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Happy Birthday, Please Don't Call Me Again⋆˙⟡ S.Ishigami

SYNOPSIS: After a devastating breakup caused by years of distance, missed moments, and the quiet loneliness of loving someone who chased the stars, you spend Senku Ishigami's first birthday since then, desperately trying not to reach out. But with the taunting memories that refused to leave you peacefully, it led to an impulsive greeting minutes before the end of January 4th. And before you knew it, he was already calling. WC: 11,626 (I tried to make it short, I PROMISE) TAGS: The notebook and the wind rises references, the man who can’t be moved? More like the scientist who can’t be moved, angst, a bit of fluff, and crack (I think?), drinking alcohol, no beta, I’m an independent woman, gang. A/n: Had this idea before bed, stayed up to plot it instead of going to sleep and giving me and my readers peace (love you guys, mwah). PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LISTEN TO Autumn by Niki, Lover, you should’ve come over by Jeff Buckley, and Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers (main song inspo). Some angst to balance out the tooth-rotting fluff from my last fic.

The first time you had come to realize that you've ruined everything was not during the awfully messy breakup.

It wasn't when you came to a gut-wrenching decision to choose yourself over the man you swore you would choose over and over again if it meant you could love him.

It wasn't during the arguments that spanned across the Pacific Ocean over a call challenged by a 13-hour time difference and forgotten anniversaries.

It wasn't during your last conversation with Senku, and he had asked you, “...You’re giving up on us?” with a face that held the faintest crack in his composure despite being a millimeter far from breaking apart completely, and a voice so small—stripped from his usual confidence—it made you want to shake your head and reach out for him once more.

It wasn't when you could barely speak from how badly you were sobbing, yet somehow managed to let out a broken, “I’m losing myself by constantly choosing you while you choose something else.”

No.

It wasn't any of those painful moments you wished you could selectively erase from your memory, even if it meant erasing the last memory you have of him.

It was afterward, in the quiet, deafening silence. During the hollow moments that felt heavier than the weight of the world, left by the absence of him and the mourning of what could’ve been.

Because for the past year, your mind has been nothing but a graveyard of your what-ifs; your mind entertained each one even when your heart begged for it to stop.

What if you had stayed as his friend instead?

What if you had chosen to simply remain as the girl who sat beside him during lunch as he discussed rocket engines as if they were his second nature?

What if you had chosen to be selfless instead of selfishly pushing your feelings onto him all those years ago in high school, merely because the silent act of loving him began to hurt?

Perhaps then you wouldn’t have to bear the weight of losing him entirely—with nothing left of him for you to hold on besides the burning blend of memories that haunted you constantly.

Perhaps then you could’ve remained in his life alongside everyone else, even if that meant cheering and watching him from a distance instead of being right next to him.

If that had been the case, perhaps then the 4th of January wouldn’t feel like a funeral full of mourning, heavy with the reflections on what could have been and what was lost, hidden beneath the facade of a joyous celebration.

Had you truly understood Senku better than anyone else—or were you simply deluded by the fantasy of loving him meant understanding him?

No. You did understand him. You understood that science would always come first among anything else, even when he repeatedly told you a relationship with him would feel like war against his love for science, after your stubborn acts of love.

You understood that loving Senku meant a battle of sacrifices in their rawest, most merciless form.

Though that may possibly have been the problem. Maybe you had spent years understanding him, that neither of you had noticed the cracks that began to form.

The calls were once a regular part of the routine you both shared, gradually reduced in length; conversations that were once flowing easily, depleted into quick exchanges as you fought for a space between rocket simulations and research deadlines.

“You’re still awake?”

“I wanted to hear your voice, Sen.”

“It’s two in the morning there.”

“Yeah, and it’s the only time I can talk to you.”

At first, the distance felt survivable—it was nothing against the stubborn trait of yours that Senku loved the most about you. It was painful, yet manageable, for you thought love could prevail any distance as long as you were patient enough.

Because, despite being oceans apart, Senku still sounded like the Senku that made you fall victim to Cupid’s arrow.

Still remembered to text you when deadlines changed. Still rambled absentmindedly about his aerospace engineering theories in ways for you to understand easily. Still made the effort to make it up to you after postponing dates, with a gesture as simple as ordering your favorite food or sending you a new invention or scientific solution of his.

And perhaps that was why you failed to notice the subtle shift that began to slowly kill you from within, like a silent poison seeping through your veins, eroding the strength you once had.

It happened slowly—cruelly slow as if you were stabbed and left to bleed out, alone.

“Sorry. The meeting about the research funding ran longer than expected.”

“Again, Sen?”

“...Yeah.”

Over time, plans became tentative and hung in the air, waiting to be fulfilled yet constantly postponed.

“Can we move tonight’s call?”

“You said that for the third time this week, Sen.”

“...Yeah. Got stuck running experiments.”

Conversations that once lasted through hours dwindled into less than ten-minute check-ins, slowly turning into something scheduled, then forgotten entirely as an argument surfaced instead.

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it already is.”

“That’s because it is a big deal, Sen. You said you’ll fly back in time for our anniversary— Do you even miss me?”

“That’s a stupid question to ask, of course I do.”

“...Then why can’t I feel like you do?”

Another month, another project, another delay. However, how much more could you take before you fell apart completely?

The most painful part wasn’t the constant battle for his attention—no, it was the fact that you knew that he had never meant to hurt you. You knew that. You knew that better than anyone else.

Yet you should’ve known that a battle where all you did was bleed while constantly trying to be the bravest soldier, was doomed to end before you could even reach the frontlines. Especially while he remained oceans away, chasing stars instead of wars.

The events of the last time you saw him, heard of him, and from him, replayed in your mind constantly; a thought you could never push down despite the numerous attempts.

Because how could you possibly forget the last memory you shared with him? How, when it was the moment you wiped the joy on his face from finally seeing you after months spent oceans apart, with a simple, “Senku, I can’t do this anymore.”

The memory kept burning through your head throughout the whole morning and afternoon of January 4th. You thought it would eventually numb you by repeatedly playing, but no: each repeat felt worse than the last, as the memories of all the previous 4th of January bled through, offering an awfully painful combination that you didn’t ask for.

“I should’ve bought a strong dose of melatonin and slept the whole day.” You groaned into your hands, body falling in defeat against the couch.

Your energy had been completely drained after a whole day of distracting yourself from your thoughts—to which you failed miserably. Your bookshelf suddenly felt interesting to clean, a long afternoon walk suddenly felt productive, heck—even cleaning out your phone’s storage did.

Though, of course, you avoided the locked album with a pin you were too familiar with, it became an instinct.

Mustering the remaining energy you had, your hand reached out for your phone on the coffee table, fingers scrolling for a certain group chat:

You guys wanna crash at my place tonight? Please bring anything but alcohol. I need to stay sober, or else I’ll do something stupid. (╥_╥)

And that was exactly how Yuzuriha, Kohaku, and Nikki ended up in your apartment at 7 PM, with every food that could bring you comfort.

“How long do you plan to pretend your phone doesn’t exist?” Nikki pointed out, her voice slicing through your self-destructing thoughts.

You turned to her with a weak smile that tried to casually shrug off the weight of the question. “Hah? What are you talking about?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Yuzuriha’s hands offered a glass of water after you emotionally went through a bag of chips on your own. “Right. We could see you trying not to check your phone every five minutes, y’know?’’

Kohaku sighed beside you. “I can’t imagine her and subtle in one sentence. It’s especially worse when it comes to Senku.”

Your body froze, heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. You tried to brush it off, really. “Who said it was about him?”

All three of them looked at you with faces that screamed: Are you hearing yourself right now?

There was a brief moment of silence before you raised your hands in the air, expressing your guilt. “Okay, okay, it’s about him. Please stop looking at me like that before I have the emotional breakdown I’ve been trying to hold in since I woke up today.”

The three of them exchanged looks before their gazes landed on you again. Not judgmental, not annoyed, just gazes that held a painful understanding of your situation. Which somehow made your chest hurt worse.

Yuzuriha was the first to soften, her hand already reaching out for your shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze in hopes of anchoring you down. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”

A laugh escaped from your lips, shaky and barely steady as you tried to joke. “Yeah, well, I’ve been missing him for almost a year straight, so I’m kinda getting tired of it.”

There was another silence that filled the gloomy atmosphere.

You pulled your knees closer to your chest as if you were trying to comfort yourself. Your eyes stared blankly at the now untouched food on your coffee table.

Outside, the city lights glittered quietly through your apartment windows. And somewhere out there, Senku was celebrating his birthday— without you for the first time in over a decade.

He never made birthdays a big deal before you forcefully waltzed into his life. Apparently, it was just a regular day except for the fact that he was a year older—his words, of course.

Though the stubbornness in you refused to acknowledge the fact that birthdays were meaningless to him. Because to you, they were the total opposite. Hence, you made it your personal mission to always celebrate his birthday, to show him it wasn’t just a regular day.

Perhaps that is why January 4th lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper that refused to be silenced. You always went above and beyond to plan a celebration, no matter the distance between the two of you.

Whether he was oceans away or just a short walk down the street, you always willingly greeted him at exactly midnight to ensure you were the first person he would receive a “Happy birthday!” from.

You meticulously gathered the friends he merely “tolerated”, ensuring that their presence made him realize it was more than a regular day, and your hands would always be the ones to clutch the candlelit cake, standing proudly at the center of it all.

And despite the way Senku would always say you did too much, the warm smile on his face said otherwise as he gazed at you instead of the cake you held out. Because even when everyone’s gaze and attention were on him, his remained on you.

You ran a hand across your face, eyes staring at your friends slightly. “Why didn’t you guys attend the party? I’m sure Ryusui planned one.”

Kohaku crossed her legs. “He did. With Gen, too, actually. We chose not to go.”

You tilted your head in confusion, though part of you was happy that they kept the celebrations going even when you, the person who made the biggest deal out of it, was no longer part of it.

“Why? Knowing Ryusui, it must’ve been grand. Why would you guys skip potentially amazing food and alcohol?” You tried to joke. None of them laughed.

Nikki raised a brow and grinned. “You think we’ll leave you alone to drown in your own thoughts? Not a chance.”

You faked a frown. “Nooo, I wanted to ask you guys if I passed down the torch successfully.”

And for the first time since they’ve arrived at the comfort of your home, they actually laughed.

“Ryusui and Chrome most likely posted everything on their insta stories by now,” Kohaku said, to which you all agreed without a fight.

“We could check them if you’re so eager to find out if you succeeded,” Nikki suggested carefully.

You turned to Nikki with a small laugh escaping your lips. “You know, if I were drunk, that would’ve sobered me up instantly.”

Everyone shared another laugh at your comment. It was the kind of laughter that existed only to keep heavier emotions from crumbling completely.

The scent of takeout lingered warmly in your apartment living room, though none of you had touched the food in several minutes.

And despite your best efforts in dismissing Nikki’s idea, your mind wouldn’t let you. It felt pathetic, honestly. You weren’t even sure why you badly wanted to see whatever Ryusui or Chrome posted online. Were you seeking reassurance that Senku wasn’t celebrating alone? Or do you just want to see him again?

With a sigh, you heard Nikki’s voice slice through your reverie again. “Hey, if you wanna check the stories, you should.”

“That’s basically telling her to ruin her progress in moving on!” Kohaku argued, to which Nikki shook her head.

“Maybe, but that wasn’t my intention. We all know she won’t stop thinking about it, and it will kill her for days after this if she doesn't check.”

You groaned into your knees, “I hate that you're absolutely right, Nikki.”

She chuckled, hand already reaching out to unlock her phone. For a moment, she exchanged glances with Kohaku and Yuzuriha before returning to you.

“Are you sure about this?”

You paused, head slowly rising up from the comfort of your knees. “...Yeah, sure. Whatever makes me sleep tonight.”

A few seconds passed with just the dialogue from a forgotten movie on your television screen, filtering the atmosphere.

And then, you heard it. The loud, familiar voices singing— no, screaming happy birthday. Or so at least you could distinctly hear the loud voices of Taiju and Chrome singing their hearts out.

“Wow, they're as loud as ever,” Kohaku commented as she peeked through from Nikki's shoulder.

Yuzuriha's laugh diluted the forgotten dialogues. “I heard from Taiju that they wanted to make the celebration extra loud and special since Senku had just returned from space today.”

Nikki's eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Man is really making the distance from space look like he's just flying from America back to Japan, huh.”

You laughed, something between genuine amusement and hurt. Perhaps you were proud too that he had finally achieved his dream, even if it was when you were no longer in his life. “It's Senku we're talking about. We really shouldn't be surprised.”

Your eyes couldn't be taken off Nikki's phone screen despite your chest tightening painfully. It was the first time you saw his face in almost a year—except for the moments you found yourself scrolling through a gallery of what were once happy memories—Gosh, were you that hurt mentally that it started to hurt physically again?

Your mind was wandering how he somehow looked more mature in a span of a year, or perhaps it was the exhaustion that hid behind the facade of his eyes and the signature smirk of his. Yet you knew him long enough to know the truth.

Then, you noticed something. “Hey, why isn't anyone holding out the cake?”

Their gazes lifted from the screen and landed on your questioning gaze. There was a brief pause before Yuzuriha spoke out. “Ryusui said it was out of respect for you since you always held out his birthday cake.”

You blinked, body desperately fighting out the tears that threatened to surface. “Hah…I guess I really passed the torch down successfully.”

There was a faint crack in your voice, as if you were gathering every last ounce of your strength and self-respect to avoid breaking down completely.

A year ago, you were the one holding the candlelit cake close to his face, smiling the widest among everyone else, promising a lifetime of birthdays to spend together. This year, you were just staring at the celebration from a digital screen, miles away. How quickly for the tides to turn and for promises to end.

“Hm, Chrome mentioned something about Senku looking for a lot area to build a house while he was visiting Ruri. Apparently, he and Gen tagged along when Ryusui helped Senku in sourcing out for one.” Kohaku added, eyes drifting back to you.

Nikki turned to her, confused. “Why would Senku want to purchase a lot? And to build a house? I thought he was an apartment type of guy.”

Yuzuriha nodded. “Yeah…Senku never seemed like the type to live in a house. He's always traveling between continents for his research, too.”

Their voices began to fade as the realization hit you like a speeding truck with broken brakes. ‘Lot area? House?’

Your heart stumbled painfully at the thought because deep down, you knew that there was only one possible reason—unless you were pooled by delusion instead of remembrance—that Senku Ishigami would ever consider purchasing land over a convenient apartment.

And suddenly, you were fresh out of university again, lying across Senku’s bed at nearly midnight while the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminated the dark room.

The rhythmic scratching of his pencil against paper filled the quiet silence that settled in the room as a blueprint lay flat on his desk.

“You should be asleep already. Is the light too bright?” He asked without looking away from the blueprint, yet he moved the lamp closer to him and farther from your eyes.

You shook your head, “No.”

“Tch. You’ve got work tomorrow, get some sleep.”

You chose to lie flat on his bed instead, eyes staring directly at the ceiling with barely attached glow-in-the-dark stars. “But you’re working right now, and I want to watch.”

A soft click of his tongue followed, and even after years, the sound still made you feel warmth blooming stupidly without permission in your chest.

You shifted again, legs nearly tangling with the soft blanket. Your chin rested atop a pillow as you watched him silently with nothing but love and admiration in your eyes.

And truthfully speaking, you could spend hours doing this. Just silently existing beside him as he got lost in the field he was most passionate about. Because even when he worked, he never made silence feel lonely.

“I just wanna spend time with you, Sen.” You mumbled sleepily, fighting the urge to close your eyes. “Even if it’s just watching you work.”

Finally, Senku’s eyes left the blueprint as he glanced at you. His expression softened faintly; it was brief yet enough.

“What a sap.” Despite his insult, his hand reached out, sliding beneath the blanket to reach out for your hand, intertwining it with his as his gaze remained on the blueprint.

You paused, blinking once, then twice, before a smile appeared on your face. Lazily, you traced shapes with your thumb against the back of his hand.

“Hey, Sen?”

He hummed, signaling you to continue, to which you did. “If you ever settle down one day, would you rather live in an apartment or a house?”

“Apartment.”

You blinked at the lack of hesitation in his voice. “That was way too fast. Did you even consider the other option?”

He nodded, scribbling something on the paper. “Less maintenance. More efficient and strategically better if I’m traveling constantly.”

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Wow, that sounds incredibly romantic, Sen.”

He chuckled quietly, briefly glancing at you with a smirk on his face. “Should I become a poet and quit being a scientist then?”

You snorted at his joke, rolling your eyes playfully. But then, he said something with a voice softer than before.

“But I’ll leave the decision to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat almost instantly. “Wait— What?”

Senku hummed once more in response, making you pause as your mind gathered the next set of words you were going to say. “...You see me in your future?”

Finally, he looked at you properly. The blueprint and pencil momentarily forgotten as his chair turned to face you. And then, the fond gaze that settled in his eyes nearly melted you alive.

“Of course I do.” His hand slipped out of your hold as he moved it higher to flick your forehead softly. “What made you even question that?”

Your chest felt embarrassingly warm right after. Yet despite that, a grin spread across your face easily. “Are you sure I’m the sappy one?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, hand intertwining with yours again as he returned to his precious blueprint.

However, you weren’t done. You sat up excitedly, more awake than ever, and the grin never left your face. “Okay then, I want a house with a huge living room with tall windows and really high ceilings.”

“And here I thought I was ambitious.” He mocked softly.

You ignored his mocking response. “And a garden outside with all sorts of plants and flowers.”

“The maintenance would be hell.”

You ignored that as well. “And a library too,” you added with the biggest smile on your face. “Like one of those pretty libraries with ladders that slide across the shelves.”

He didn’t say anything this time, allowing you to ramble endlessly.

“And obviously a huge lab for you with every equipment that you need, and an observatory so we could always stargaze together.”

“And you question who’s the sappy one?” He scoffed playfully in pretend disbelief.

You laughed softly. Then, a sudden gasp escaped from your lips. “Can we have a weeping tree in the backyard?”

Without even glancing at you, Senku replied immediately. “No. That’s a bad idea.”

You frowned, shifting closer to him. “Why?”

“Their root systems are highly invasive and seek ridiculous amounts of water constantly, which can destroy plumbing and septic lines, have a short lifespan, are pest and disease-prone—”

You cut him off before he could list another issue, “Okay, okay, I get it, genius.”

He chuckled in victory, eyes briefly glancing at you. That was when he saw the look on your face, which clearly meant you were far from done.

“Can’t you come up with one of your scientific solutions to fix those issues?”

Senku looked mildly offended at your question, and you heard him click his tongue. “Stubborn as ever, aren’t you? Obviously, but it would still be inefficient to plant one.”

“Fine,” You huffed dramatically. “A wisteria then. Or cherry blossoms.”

“Hm. Acceptable.”

You grinned triumphantly before squeezing his hand once. And despite Senku’s focus on his blueprint, he returned the gesture instantly. Soft, firm, and grounding. As if the future you had described had already become his to accomplish, too.

The voices around you faded into nothing but muffled noises you couldn’t hear as your mind echoed violently with memories that resurfaced with cruel clarity.

Your chest tightened painfully again, as if your ribs were one squeeze away from crushing your lungs and heart. Because you had genuinely thought that conversation had only mattered to you—that maybe Senku had forgotten it beneath the pile of rocket launches, research papers, and years spent chasing stars that made you feel he was beyond your reach.

Yet no, he remembered. He remembered that he actually started looking for land. And that realization hollowed whatever was left from inside you.

You could hear Kohaku’s voice sounding distant as she called out your name, though you didn’t reply.

Your eyes remained fixed somewhere past your coffee table filled with untouched food, past the forgotten television, past the city lights that continued to glow outside of your apartment.

You were physically present. Your body was there, yet it felt like you were mentally trapped years ago inside of Senku’s apartment as he held your hand while listening to you ramble about a future that wasn’t given a chance to exist.

Back when loving him was as easy as breathing.

You could hear Nikki’s voice come closer as she tried to get your attention. Still, you barely reacted.

Your breathing started feeling strangely uneven, as if your lungs had suddenly forgotten how to function properly.

A hand touched your shoulder as Yuzuriha called out your name, louder and clearer.

You blinked more than once as reality seeped through, all at once. The warm lights of your apartment, the untouched food scattered across the coffee table, and your friends staring at you with worried faces.

Yuzuriha’s brows furrowed as her hand remained on your shoulder. “You’ve been spacing out since Kohaku mentioned the lot.”

Silence. You remained silent. Your lips parted slightly, yet no words came out. And suddenly, as if the last line of defense had been breached, your vision blurred.

‘No— not now out of all times—’

You tried to inhale sharply, yet it came out shaky instead. You instantly looked away while rubbing your eyes quickly before a tear could fall.

“Sorry,” even your laugh came out shaky. “I’m fine, just—”

Your voice cracked, and that was all it took before the dam broke completely.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, followed by another. Your hand flew to your mouth as if you could physically force all of the emotions that had escaped back inside of yourself again.

Except you couldn’t. You no longer could. The grief felt too unbearable as you mourned the future that almost existed— could’ve existed.

Yuzuriha immediately moved closer, arms already reaching out to hug you tightly as if she could keep whatever remained intact.

“I’m sorry—” you whispered shakily as you fought back a sob, shaking your head quickly. “I don’t even know why I’m crying this much. It’s been so long since I did. It’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid,” Nikki said softly, eyes exchanging glances with the other two.

You wanted to stop, you really did. You didn’t want them to see you weak and crying again, as if the wound left by the breakup was still fresh. Perhaps it was, perhaps it had never been healed at all.

“I wish…” Your voice cracked badly. “I wish I could just hate him so moving on could’ve been easy—but no, it’s so hard to hate him at all.” You spoke out between heavy sobs.

A shaky laugh escaped through your sobs. “I don’t know how to stop—Gosh, I still miss him.”

Nobody tried to interrupt, offering their silent presence as comfort. They didn’t try to fix it because they knew there was nothing fixable about loving someone correctly at the wrong time.

“I really don’t know how to stop missing him— or loving him,” you finally admitted the truth that you constantly buried beneath a facade of distractions. “I don’t know how to stop missing him or loving him just because I have to.”

You wiped your tears aggressively, something he would most likely scold you for. “He’s still the first person I want to call when something good or bad happens.”

“Gosh, I even tear up whenever I pass by stores selling instant ramen because I remember how messed up his eating habits are. It’s no wonder he stayed a twink during university.” Another shaky laugh slipped from between the tears and your cracked voice.

Your weak attempt to insult Senku didn’t go unnoticed by them as they snorted slightly.

Nikki was the first to snort. “Okay, calling a literal astronaut who happens to be the most sought-after scientist too, a twink sounds insane now that his training paid off.”

Kohaku crossed her arms with a smile of amusement. “At least his progress had started to show.”

Yuzuriha let out a soft laugh, arms still holding you tight. “I still remember him forgetting to eat unless you physically handed him food.”

A broken laugh escaped you again as the memory appeared in your mind.

“Why am I even laughing and crying over instant ramen? I’m going crazy, aren’t I?” You asked them with tears flowing down your face while laughing with a broken smile.

Despite the situation, that managed to earn a genuine laugh from them as Yuzuriha hugged you tighter and Kohaku walked to your kitchen to grab some tissues.

“No, no, you aren’t going crazy,” she soothed quickly as one hand reached out to lean your head on her shoulder. “Definitely heartbroken, but not crazy.”

Nikki sat beside you, “Honestly, this is healthier than whatever you thought was better to do for the past year.”

“Which was repressing everything,” she added.

“I really wish I could just hate him, not because I want to, but because maybe it’d be easier if I did.” You buried your face in the palms of your hands. “But then I also remember how hard he worked, how excited he looked while talking about space and rocket engineering as if the universe had personally asked him to.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, “But how could I hate him for that? How could I hate him for simply dreaming?”

Kohaku returned quietly with a box of tissues. Then, she turned to you. “If it makes a difference, Senku actually loved you.”

Nikki’s eyes widened, “Kohaku—”

Kohaku blinked, staring at all of you with a confused look. “What? It’s true.”

Your head snapped upward as Kohaku frowned slightly before she continued. “He’s terrible at expressing emotions and might be the most affectionately constipated jerk on the planet, but he loved you. We all saw it.”

Your eyes watered dangerously again as you stared at her with wobbly lips. “Kohaku, I love you, but why would you tell me that right now?!”

Yuzuriha rubbed your shaking arms gently as she panic-laugh beside you. “Haha…though it’s the truth, we should’ve worked on the delivery .”

Kohaku nodded, faces already running with guilt as she apologized. “You’re right, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to help.”

You laughed through your tears, smiling at her attempt as Nikki rested her head lightly against yours. “You know, sometimes people can love each other and still not know how to grow together.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at her comment. Maybe that was exactly the fate you and Senku fell victim to. He kept reaching for the stars, and somewhere between the ocean and skies, you stopped being able to reach him completely.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Senku Ishigami had long accepted that his friends were both his greatest source of headache and one of the few things that kept him sane. Though he’d rather spend a lifetime with them than to admit it out loud.

According to the greediest man on the planet, Ryusui Nanami, every celebration deserved excess. Senku knew better that he just wanted another excuse to have all kinds of alcohol in one room for a night.

Which could explain why Senku currently sat in a private lounge, owned by Ryusui, as his friends drowned themselves in expensive whiskey around him.

The cake that was once glowing with a soft flame stared at him mockingly from across the table he was at. Nobody had dared to touch it, to hold it out for him as they sang happy birthday—and Senku didn’t need to calculate rocket science to figure out it was out of respect for you, the one who used to hold out the cake for him.

“Cheers!” Ryusui boomed loudly as he refilled everyone's drinks.

Chrome was already tipsy along with Taiju as Ukyo tried to control their alcohol intake.

Gen, however, remained close. His eyes observed the scientist in front of him, who nursed another glass of whiskey. At this point, the mentalist had lost count of how much Senku had drunk already.

“Senku-chan, are you trying to break your record immediately after stepping into the Earth’s atmosphere?” Gen asked, wearing an expression of amusement and worry.

Senku, who had just drunk from his glass, raised a brow at him. “Hah? What are you talking about, mentalist?”

Ryusui appeared again with a different bottle of alcohol in his hand as he offered Senku a lazy smirk. “Not to mention the constant checking of your phone, Senku. Waiting for someone, are we?”

Senku clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tch. Shut up.”

Ryusui and Gen instantly shared a laugh as Senku muttered something along the lines of, “I should’ve stayed in outer space.”

For a moment, the sound of their snickering lingered in the air before Gen leaned forward with narrowed eyes at Senku.

“You’re waiting for her birthday greeting, or even just a message from her, aren’t you?”

A dangerous silence filled the atmosphere between the three of them. Then, Senku exhaled through his nose and took another sip.

“...Yeah.” He gulped down another sip, and the burning feeling that ran through his throat began to numb. “It’s selfish considering how things ended.”

For a while, nobody spoke. Ryusui and Gen exchanged glances as the music in the bar suddenly sounded louder than before. The silence wasn’t awkward, just heavy with the regrets that constantly taunted Senku.

Gen swirled the drink inside the glass he was holding; the intention of changing the topic appeared in his mind. “How’s the construction for the lot that you had recently bought, Senku-chan?”

Senku raised a brow, hand reaching out for the bottle near Ryusui to refill his glass.

“The one near the outskirts,” Gen added. “Has construction started yet?”

“Nah.” Senku leaned back further into the cushion of the couch, an arm lazily draped over the backrest while the other held his whiskey glass.

The familiar burning sensation met his throat again as he took another sip. “Still finalizing the design.”

Ryusui hummed, a brow raised as well. “Oh? I thought you had finished the draft weeks ago.”

“I did.”

“Then what’s the hold-up, Senku-chan?” Gen asked as he reached out for cola instead of whiskey.

“Had to revise the window structure,” Senku replied flatly.

“Window structure?” Ryusui repeated with a laugh of disbelief. “Since when did you start caring about aesthetics, Senku?”

“Natural lighting efficiency,” Senku answered instantly. “Large windows reduce daytime electricity usage.”

Ryusui hummed in response, though Senku knew from the grin on the sailor’s face that he knew more than he let on.

Gen blinked suspiciously, eyes shifting between the two before landing on Senku. “And the giant library? Why did you design a two-story library again?”

Senku didn’t answer, which enhanced Gen’s suspicion. Then, the mentalist’s expression transformed abruptly as realization slammed into him.

“Oh.”

Senku clicked his tongue hard while Ryusui’s grin widened. The sailor even had the audacity to laugh behind his glass.

“Have you finally figured it out, Gen?” He asked, eyes teasingly shifted towards Senku.

Gen stared at Senku with an incredulous look on his face. “...The ideas for the house were never yours, were they, Senku-chan?”

Senku didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he chuckled bitterly as he stared quietly at the amber liquid swirling inside his glass before he downed it again. “...Yeah.”

Ryusui turned to Gen with another grin on his face. “You should’ve seen him compare land locations based on sunlight exposure, soil and terrain conditions, flood and hazard zones, distance from the city—”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to expose me further, Ryusui.” Senku cut him off in annoyance, though he didn’t deny anything.

Senku Ishigami—the man who dedicated his entire life to chasing the stars—had been planning a home permanent enough to always return to. And somehow, before construction could even start, he had already lost the part that made it feel like home.

“I want to call her. I want to apologize for being the biggest jerk on the planet— screw that, the whole of the Milky Way.” He admitted bluntly, making the other two stare at him in shock, though part of them already expected that Senku would say something like that.

“Has the alcohol finally caught up with you, Senku-chan?” Gen teasingly asked.

Senku shook his head. “Nah. I’m not stupid enough yet to act selfishly and ruin whatever progress she made in forgetting me.”

Ryusui leaned forward, hand placing his glass down. “But do you want to?”

Senku let out a laugh that sounded like a mix of honesty, bitterness, and disbelief. “Yeah, ten billion percent do.”

“Will you ask for Ryusui’s strongest bottle then, Senku?” Ukyo asked teasingly as he appeared out of nowhere and sat between Gen and Ryusui. His teasing tone earned a snort from both of them as they looked far too entertained at the situation bound to unfold in front of them.

Senku snickered behind his glass. “How much have you heard, Ukyo?”

“Enough to know that you could also be a love-sick fool.” He offered Senku a smile.

Ukyo’s answer made the other two laugh out loudly as Senku playfully rolled his eyes before finishing the rest of his drink.

“Tch, you people are ten billion percent annoying.”

“And yet you’re here, Senku-chan.” Gen pointed out with a smug look on his face.

“Ryusui kidnapped me immediately after I landed. Didn’t even bother to say anything as he did.” Senku deadpanned.

Ryusui laughed loudly with a proud grin on his face. “Don’t ruin my reputation, Senku. I did what any other good friend should.”

Senku merely clicked his tongue, hand already reaching for the bottle before anyone could.

“Oi,” Ryusui called out, a faint laugh hiding his concern. “Are you seriously trying to speedrun self-destruction immediately after returning from the ISS?”

Gen chuckled nervously, “He already looks like he’s halfway there.”

Ukyo sighed softly as he eyed the scientist with amusement and concern. “You do realize your alcohol tolerance isn’t infinite, right?”

Senku raised a brow. “Hah? Obviously.”

“That’s not reassuring.” The other three said in unison.

Though Senku ignored them completely, quietly checking his smartphone for the hundredth time since he landed. And as if he didn’t hear Ukyo’s recent warning, his hand was already reaching out for an unopened bottle and opened it himself. The amber liquid reflected against the dim lights of the private lounge as silence eloped them briefly.

Gen leaned lazily against his palm before speaking. “For someone who claims that he doesn’t want to ruin her progress…Your actions say the opposite. How many times have you checked your notifications?”

Senku snickered before responding. “It’s called multi-tasking, Gen. Pretty basic skill.”

All three of them gave him a look that clearly said: Easy for you to say.

Ukyo leaned back, eyes studying Senku’s exhausted expression that he tried to hide. “You know, I think this is the most emotional we’ve ever seen you. Besides when your rocket first successfully launched into space, that is.”

“That was the happy type of emotional Senku; this one is the sad and regretful one.” Gen added beside Ukyo, earning a snort from Ryusui.

“Must be the lowered gravity from space messing with my brain.” Senku reasoned casually.

Ukyo and Gen sweat dropped visibly. “Sure, let’s all agree to blame NASA and JAXA for that.”

Taiju suddenly appeared out of nowhere from behind Senku, voice suddenly serious as if he wasn’t drunk moments ago. “But do you still love her, Senku?”

Senku was faintly surprised— no, all of them were when Taiju suddenly joined the conversation. Yet a small smile appeared on Senku’s face, the softness, regret, and certainty hidden beneath the facade of his smugness.

“That’s the dumbest question you could ever ask me, big-oaf.”

“Then why let her go if you still do, man?” Chrome asked out of nowhere as well, suddenly sober. Randomly appearing the same way Taiju did.

Senku blinked, eyes shifting between the two flatly. “Where the hell did you two even come from?”

“That’s not important right now!” Chrome shot back, climbing the couch from behind to sit next to Senku.

“It kinda is…” Ukyo sweat dropped.

“We heard everything, man!” Taiju added, far louder than chrome as he mimicked his actions.

Senku looked mildly annoyed as he downed a glass of whiskey. “Yeah? You two got Ukyo’s insane hearing now?”

The other three laughed instantly at the joke, looking far too amused at the growing crowd around Senku.

Chrome, however, wasn’t laughing. He had a frown on his face and looked too serious for someone who had been drunk minutes ago. “Honestly?” He glared at Senku. “That wasn’t a cool move from you at all, Senku.”

That made everyone glance at Chrome, and Senku looked at him with mild offense. “Hah?”

Chrome clicked his tongue out of frustration. His hand suddenly slammed his glass down, and a bit of whiskey splashed out. “You just let her go like that!”

The atmosphere shifted into silence instantly. Chrome rarely sounded angry at Senku. He was always admiring him.

“I mean, c’mon,” Chrome continued roughly. “You’re literally one of the smartest guys on the planet— heck, the smartest.”

“Tch, that's ten billion percent debatable.” Senku shot flatly.

“You’re the only guy on the planet who built a homemade rocket at the ripe age of ten!” Chrome snapped back. “How could you not come up with scientific solutions to keep her?!”

A heavy silence followed Chrome’s frustrated outburst. The others remained silent as they watched his anger unfold. Because, despite how irrational Chrome sounded, he was logical in the language of love.

Chrome ran a hand through his hair. “If Ruri asked me to leave her someday, I won’t be able to do it. Even if she argues that it’s for the better— I just can’t do it.”

He looked genuinely devastated now, as if he was grieving a relationship that wasn’t even his. Then, he continued. “Because if you love someone, aren’t you supposed to fight for them?”

Everyone saw how Senku’s expression faltered. It was barely noticeable, yet they saw it and knew that one hit him harder than his failed rocket launches.

For a moment, Senku remained silent as he looked at Chrome with an unreadable expression. With a voice that lacked his usual sarcasm, he admitted, “I did.”

Then, his gaze shifted towards his glass of whiskey. A bitter laugh followed right after. “You think I didn’t try?”

“She genuinely looked so hurt and exhausted when she told me she couldn’t do it anymore.” He paused briefly. “I kept telling her and myself that things would calm down after every project.”

“I tried fixing it the same way I tried fixing everything else.”

Everyone in the room knew that Senku expressed his care or love differently compared to others. He was never vocal about it; his actions always spoke out for him. Be it when you complained about winter being too cold, hence he modified thermal fabric and mailed it to Japan along with custom heatpacks. Or the time you told him you missed stargazing with him and his telescope, he custom-built a compact telescope to fit your apartment balcony and wrote a calendar of astronomical events for you.

They were never just scientific solutions— no, that was just the way Senku Ishigami knew how to love.

Gen, who was quietly listening the whole time, sighed softly as he had already decided to lend their dearest astronaut a hand. “In Senku-chan’s language, that was how he showed his version of devotion.”

Senku scoffed in annoyance. “Don’t make it sound weird, mentalist. Devotion is a strong word.”

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Gen countered softly.

Then, he turned to the other scientist. “Chrome, most people would write poems or say ‘I love you’”, his gaze briefly returned to Senku. “But Senku-chan solved her problems as if it were rocket science.”

Ryusui snorted softly. “In other words, Senku modified science as a love language.”

Gen dramatically pointed a finger at Senku. “He would rather rebuild modern civilization from scratch than to vocally express affection.”

Somehow, that earned a laugh from everyone, even Senku himself.

“The problem was,” he continued softly. “That she stopped needing solutions— she just wanted him.”

Senku didn’t deny Gen’s conclusion; he knew he was right. He, himself, knew that the most. He could find a solution to anything as long as he dedicated himself to it.

But emotional reassurance? Senku could learn every complicated topic in the world, yet he would still lack the knowledge to give you what you needed the most.

It wasn’t the lack of love or effort that slowly made loving him hurt— no, it was the fact that two people were speaking different love languages.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The apartment was now occupied by silence again— except for the loud thoughts that refused to die down without a fight.

Yuzuriha, Kohaku, and Nikki had returned home half an hour ago. You insisted they did despite their refusal. It was late, and you wanted to retire for the night, was the reason you gave them.

Yet you find yourself staring at your bedroom ceiling as if it could magically solve your problems. And of course, you didn’t need to be sober to realize it couldn’t. Though perhaps he could— no, scratch that, he was the problem you were currently facing.

Sleep wasn’t coming around easily, nothing was really. You’ve tried about everything: a warm shower, walking around every corner of your apartment, wearing your comfiest pair of sleepwear, changing the temperature of your thermostat—yet nothing worked.

Somehow, the sound of your clock on the bedside table was getting louder, as if it was personally mocking you as you resisted the urge that resurfaced countless times throughout the day. The urge to greet him happy birthday.

Your eyes shifted towards your phone that lay flat on the bedside table, next to your clock. If you weren’t spiraling, you would’ve laughed at the combination.

There were exactly fifteen minutes left before January 4th ended. And for some reason, you couldn’t exactly tell if time was going by slowly or fast.

Your eyes shut close as you felt the pain in your chest start again. You repeatedly reminded yourself not to do it, not to ruin the progress you fought tooth and nail to build.

Your fingers curled into the soft fabric of your blanket as your thoughts continued to clash against one another. Part of you didn’t want to, yet a bigger part of you wanted to. Because it’s his birthday. You had continuously greeted him for more than a decade, when you were merely a teenager who admired him, when he had yet to love you back.

You used to stay awake until midnight just to ensure you were the first to greet him. And of course, Senku complained about it. Something along the lines of ruining your sleep schedule just to acknowledge that he was a year older.

Yet he always sounded pleased despite it.

And now, a year has passed without a single word from you or about you reaching him. Or perhaps there was, and you were just unaware. Gen and Taiju would’ve most likely informed him even if he didn’t ask.

Was it cruel of you to suddenly disappear after forcing yourself to be a constant in the equation of his life?

That seemed to have done it as your hand abruptly reached for your phone before a second thought could form. You opened your messages and scrolled till you reached his contact.

Your throat felt dry as you hesitantly unlocked him, your last message mocking you silently.

Senku, where are you?

Can we talk?

Your fingers trembled against your keyboard. Maybe it was selfish, selfish to suddenly appear after disappearing for so long. Maybe it was cruel to reopen wounds that barely healed at all.

Then, more thoughts formed, far more cruel than the previous ones. What if he doesn’t reply? What if he does, yet he replies coldly? What if—

You quickly typed out “Happy birthday, Senku.” And clicked send before another thought could form. Then, you tossed your phone across the other side of your bed and buried your face flat against your pillow.

Your pulse rose violently. You felt stupid, yet relieved and everything in between.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Senku was halfway through Ryusui’s strongest bottle, now fully aware he was starting to feel tipsy. He wasn’t the type to drink often, yet he had been exposed to numerous chemicals already that his body had slowly grown immune to them. Or perhaps he just had a high alcohol tolerance.

He usually tested his tolerance with Ryusui, who wanted to test out every available alcohol out of greed. That same Ryusui was currently refilling everyone’s glass as François appeared with a new tray of food. This time, it was sushi.

Senku was about to swallow the sushi in his mouth when he heard a specific notification that nearly made him choke as everything around him seemed to halt, the chopsticks falling out of his hold.

Taiju, who was next to him, heard it. “What was that, Senku? Are you choking?!”

Ukyo didn’t need to be next to him to hear and recognize that specific sound, after all, it was he who pointed out before that Senku set a custom notification sound for your messages. The genius reasoned that it was efficient.

“Is that…?” Ukyo asked with wide eyes.

Senku, however, didn’t answer as he swallowed the sushi in his mouth, hand already reaching out for his phone so quickly he nearly knocked over his drink.

And there it was, a greeting from you.

Funny how that was all he needed to sober up, or at least he thought he did. And before anyone else could say something, he was already standing and rushing out of the room.

Gen visibly perked up, everyone did. “Senku-chan—?”

Senku was already out of the private lounge.

His heart was beating loudly, drowning the worried calls of his companions. Yet for a moment, that didn’t matter as his thumb hovered over your message.

He blinked once, then twice as if he was waiting for the message to disappear. Though to his surprise, it didn’t. It was still there, waiting for a reply.

Unfortunately, or fortunately—he couldn’t quite tell anymore—the alcohol made him reckless. Or maybe just honest.

Because before any logic could catch up, he pressed call out of desperation.

The phone rang more than once. And somewhere else in Tokyo, your stomach dropped painfully at the sound.

You immediately sat up, hands reaching for your phone that rang violently. You stared in horror once you saw who was calling you. It was him.

Your breathing became uneven, hands shook as they held the device with the little strength you had left. He wasn’t supposed to call.

Your mind fell into a dilemma. Were you going to answer him or not? What were you even going to say to him? That you’ve been spiraling over greeting him the whole day? About reaching out?

And before you could come to a decision, the call ended. Then, a message appeared.

Answer me.

Please.

Another call rang out a second after you read the messages from him. Once, twice, then you finally clicked the green button before you could rethink your decision. Perhaps it was out of instinct—the instinct to answer whenever he called.

You were met with the muffled sound of music from somewhere far. Then it was heavy and uneven breathing mixed with disbelief. Like he had run somewhere despite his mind still processing.

And finally, you heard his voice. “...You actually picked up.”

You felt your chest tighten physically, which made you lean against your headboard, eyes staring straight at the ceiling as if it could instruct you on what to say this time.

His voice sounded lower and rougher than usual. And if you weren't hearing things, it sounded slightly slurred.

You shut your eyes briefly, hand tightening around your phone. “You rarely say please…Are you drunk?”

A faint snicker from him reached your ears, weak yet filled with amusement. “Hah, that's the first thing you chose to say to me after a year?”

“You sound terrible. I'm assuming that's Ryusui's doing.” You remarked, already thinking of what to tell Ryusui for letting him drink that much.

“Tch. Compared to earlier, I'm basically sober right now.”

This time, your stomach twisted painfully. “Just how much did you drink?”

You heard soft movements from the other side of the line, enough to make a guess that he was leaning against a wall.

With a casual voice, he said, “Dunno, Ryusui kept bringing new bottles…The refilling part was on me.”

You felt your stomach drop as you frowned. Despite everything, you were still concerned about him. “Didn’t you just return from space and you're already trying to destroy your liver?”

And you hated that you still are. Hated how naturally concern came to you when it was about him. Hated how even after everything, it was still your instinct to question if he was taking care of himself, if he was overworking himself again.

He snickered. “Must’ve left 90% of my logic in outer space. The remaining 10% evaporated when you texted me.”

You sighed, hand running through your hair. “I shouldn't have messaged you—”

“No,” He interrupted softly, voice suddenly sounding desperate. “Don't say that.”

Silence eloped the two of you as you didn't know how to reply to that. Your knees curled closer towards your chest as your mind fought to think of what to say.

And before you could say anything, he beat you to it. Voice suddenly sounded low again. “...I was waiting for you.”

Your vision blurred right away at his words. Was it because he sounded so genuine? Was it because this was your first conversation in a year? Or was it because he said he was waiting for you when your relationship used to revolve around you waiting for him?

A soft chuckle escaped from his lips, stripped off from his usual confidence. “I kept checking my phone like an idiot all night. Gen and Ryusui noticed first and kept bothering me about it. Then Ukyo appeared, followed by Taiju and Chrome.”

You felt a tear slip, hand instinctively rushing to cover your mouth before a sob came out. Gosh, must he tell you that?

“...You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“I know.” He murmured. “But you used to greet me constantly at midnight for over a decade. Couldn't help it.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose. “That was before, Senku…Things changed.”

“I know,” he repeated quietly. “But I happened to be selfish tonight.”

Now you were really wishing that you hadn’t called, because his response was telling you that he was thinking of you. How were you supposed to move on quietly after that?

The noise from the bar began to fade further away, as if he was walking farther from everything else.

“I screwed up.”

Your eyes burned with tears as you clutched your phone tighter than before after it threatened to slip out of your hold after hearing his words.

A sharp exhale from him followed after. “I really thought I had more time.”

“After the next launch, research, experiment, conference, project— I assumed I'd have more time.” He continued, voice filled with the regret that had been piling up for a year.

You laughed weakly despite the tears silently falling. “I never doubted your love for me, Sen.”

“I knew you loved me; everyone knew you did, even if you were the most affectionately constipated person in the group.” You added before he could respond.

You aggressively wiped away your tears with the back of your hand, a sniffle escaping through your defenses. “I saw that you loved differently. I saw it whenever you patiently taught me topics I found confusing, when you built things for my convenience, or when you fixed things without me having to ask.”

Your voice and defenses had failed you completely halfway. Your sobs broke through your words, and that broke something in him as he had to listen to you cry because of him again.

“But eventually,” you sniffled again. “I stopped needing your inventions or scientific solutions.”

A painful silence settled briefly. “...I just needed you, Sen.”

The line grew terrifyingly quiet afterward that for a second, you considered the call had disconnected.

Then finally, a shaky exhale came from the other side of the line. “...I know.”

And the way he said it nearly destroyed you. There was no defensiveness behind it, no excuses or attempts to justify himself. It was just the raw truth of realization and understanding.

“And that's what's been screwing me up for the past year,” he let out a weak laugh. “Building rockets was easier than when I kept thinking of that.”

Your lips parted slightly, though nothing came out because of how stunned you were. How could you not be? What were you supposed to even answer to that? The Senku Ishigami sounded lost for the first time, as if he had run out of scientific solutions to use, defeated over love.

“I kept thinking if I worked hard enough,” he admitted quietly as regret laced his voice. “Then eventually I could give you everything that you wanted.”

“The house, your ridiculously hard-to-maintain garden, your two-story library— the future you wanted.”

At Senku’s side, he stared beyond the city lights behind the window in the hallway of the building he was in. And for a moment, he could see the future that failed to occur: your laughter filling the silent hallways, the warmth that radiated from your smile making the house feel like home.

And now that he could finally start the future you asked for, you had already left his side.

His grip tightened as his gaze lowered. “Failed to realize you needed something way simpler that time.”

The call went silent again right after he said that. You were nearly speechless, your tears halted. The heel of your palm pressed against your forehead as you managed to let out a weak laugh.

“Senku,” you called out, voice weak with a painful amusement and disbelief.

“I was willing to attend a hundred funerals of every version you would grow up to be if it meant I could stay by your side forever—” your breathing shook unevenly. “The high school student who launched a homemade rocket to space, the university student who tried to survive on instant ramen, the doctoral student pursuing a doctorate at MIT,”

You continued on listing every version you saw of him, built on the ambition that made you fall for him, yet was the very same ambition that made loving him hurt.

“...The scientist worldwide agencies and governments wanted, the astronaut in training. Somehow, between the listings, your tears found you again as you tried to choke back a sob. “But I didn't realize those versions of you would kill me too.”

Another heavy silence settled, and it was suffocating. Afterward, he said the most unexpected thing you could hear from him.

“... I'm sorry.”

You blinked painfully, “Senku—”

“No, I mean it.” He cut you off softly.

His voice sounded rougher than before. “I'm sorry I kept making you wait.”

“Stop.” You pleaded, the heel of your palm pressed harder on your forehead than before.

“I'm sorry I made you feel alone—”

You interrupted this time. “Senku, stop. You're making this harder for the both of us.”

“That wasn't my intention,” his response was immediate and firm. “You spent years trying to understand me, least I could do is acknowledge how badly I screwed up.”

You paused, unaware of what to do now. If anything, how this conversation was leading felt like tearing open wounds that never truly healed in the first place.

Because hearing him like that, apologizing with dangerous self-awareness, made a part of you want to stay. To try again.

And that terrified you. The thought of how things ended, the thought of losing yourself while trying to love him, scared you.

You tried to push every ounce of hesitation back down before speaking. “I think this should be our last conversation.”

You tried to say it properly, you really did. Yet your voice still decided to crack halfway through.

The response came instantly after a sharp inhale from him, barely any hesitation in his voice, unlike yours. “No.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes shutting once again. The situation was hard enough, and he was making it far harder. “Senku—”

“You're saying that as if it's strategically the best outcome for the two of us.”

His tone shifted into something quieter right after. “...Is that what you really want?”

You were speechless again. You could hear it, the dismay in his voice.

“Will your life be better if I remain out of it?” He asked quietly.

No. You thought immediately. It wouldn't. You weren't even sure if time could heal the wounds left by over a decade of loving him.

You fought back a sob, yet your voice cracked again anyway. “Yes.”

Senku went physically still at your response, and you had to muster any remaining strength in your body. “I think our relationship fell the moment I started missing you even when you were right in front of me.”

“You would still be working even when you were home.” You added painfully. “At first, I was okay with it. But then the distance started to feel as if you were still thousands of miles away.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, fighting back a sob. “Loving you didn't feel as easy as breathing anymore…It felt like I was losing myself instead, while you were constantly going.”

With a shaky breath, you concluded. “...And I don't think I can go through that again without completely losing myself.”

A long silence followed your words, the longest one yet since he called. And you knew that he was calculating every possible variable that could somehow change your mind and the outcome you gave him. Yet he couldn't.

“...I see.” He said quietly. You heard a faint sound of shifting, not out of agitation, but out of resignation. “Can't really argue about that, can't I?”

That was the part that made him feel ill to his stomach. Because he knew that the old version of himself would've, he would've calculated something, debated against it.

But the present Senku couldn't. Not when he heard you admit about losing yourself again, because of him, out of all people.

You shook your head as if he could magically see it. “No, you can't.”

Your hand clutched the soft fabric of your bedsheets, and the painful realization that this was really the end settled through. “Take care of yourself, Senku.”

He gave you a chuckle as an attempt to hide his dismay. “I should be the one telling you that.”

You smiled bitterly, a tear escaping silently. “Hah? I wasn't the one living on instant ramen throughout my undergraduate degree.”

He snickered. “As if your eating habits were any better.”

You laughed, genuinely this time. Afterward, you called out for him using the nickname you developed after establishing your relationship with him.

“Sen,”

He hummed, already knowing where it was leading to.

You hesitated, suddenly feeling weak again. This was it, there will be nothing else left except grieving the future you could've had again.

“...Happy birthday, please don't call me again.”

Senku's eyes shut right after. He saw it coming, so why did it still hurt him so much? Far worse than the impact of a moving train with its highest velocity.

“I really loved you, y’know?” You sniffled. “I really admired you, too. You were always so amazing in my eyes, and I knew you could achieve anything with that never-ending dedication of yours.”

“...I hope space felt like everything you ever wanted.”

And with that, you ended the call with trembling hands. Your body completely shook right after, as you hugged your knees tighter again out of desperation, your phone slipping out of your hand.

The tears fell continuously, and each sob was louder than the previous one. At first, it was a strangled sound, then you were fully sobbing before you knew it.

You fell sideways on your bed, body curling instinctively as you wrapped your arms around yourself as if you could keep yourself together, but you couldn't. Everything came crashing down, and nothing stayed in place anymore. Not your breathing, not your thoughts, not your tears.

Your hand reached for your phone again, part of you hoping that Senku would magically take back his words and go against your decision; however, you knew how his mind and logic worked. You still hoped anyway.

Yet no new call appeared, and silence still remained. And perhaps that was the cruelest proof that he truly loved you.

The act of choosing to let you go, even when he desperately didn’t want to, simply because losing you hurt less than ruining you further.

January 4th had come to an end, making way for January 5th. His birthday ended, and somewhere between midnight and the last call, the two of you did too.

Bonus:

The call ended at exactly 12:15 AM. And if anything, Senku thought the universe was mocking him.

For a long while, he just stayed where he was. Eyes glued to the floor after a tear had escaped without his permission. His jaw was clenched, and so was his fist.

His mind replayed the conversation, especially the last thing you told him before ending the call.

“...I hope space felt like everything you ever wanted.”

He wanted to respond and tell you that it didn't, it didn't feel like everything he ever wanted. Not when the only constant variable in the equation of his life had completely disappeared in the process of achieving it.

The conversation hollowed him completely. The alcohol he had consumed earlier no longer aided him.

Then, he heard the familiar heavy footsteps of Ryusui come closer.

“There you are!” Ryusui announced loudly as he walked towards him. “We thought the alcohol had finally caught up, and you passed out somewhere.”

Senku clicked his tongue automatically. “Tch, as if.”

Ryusui noticed how it was all bark and no bite. Yet he didn't ask, as Senku just followed him back to the private lounge where everyone else was waiting.

When they entered, Taiju was the first to ask. “Senku! How was—?!”

Taiju wasn't even cut off by Senku vocally, no. He was interrupted by his astonishment as Senku strided into the room, hand reached out for the bottle of Ryusui's strongest whiskey as well as his glass, already downing a glass full before anyone could say anything else.

Everyone stared in shock at what had just unfolded.

Ukyo frowned immediately. “Senku, you've had enough.”

He didn't answer. He simply ignored the warning as his body slid back to his initial place before the call, the hand that didn't hold the glass folded to cover his eyes.

Then, he chuckled bitterly, with every ounce of regret and dismay. “I screwed up badly.”

Across from him, Gen's expression shifted. “That bad, huh.”

Senku laughed again, but it was humorless before he took another gulp. “Hah, she told me to never call her again.”

The table fell silent. There was nothing to argue about, just the acceptance of the two people who loved each other deeply, yet still failed to see each other till the end.

After a moment, Ukyo gently leaned to take the bottle away from Senku, and unlike earlier, he didn’t fight back. But that was mostly because something in his pocket felt unbearably heavy.

That was when Chrome noticed something from the pocket of Senku’s pants, how come he had yet to notice it after hours of being in the same room?

“Senku, what’s that—” he halted, eyes went wide as his voice left him out of shock.

That caught everyone’s attention as they shifted closer to have a look. Taiju was the first to see what it was since he was sitting next to him.

“Is that?!”

Senku snickered next to him, head falling back against the couch as if he was admitting defeat. “...Yeah, a ring box.”

The entire table froze, except for Ryusui, who looked at Senku with empathy, not bewilderment.

Chrome nearly choked, his hand flung up in the air. “The hell?!”

Everything suddenly made sense in a horrifying way. Why Senku was always overworking himself, the obsession over stability, projects, and the insane amount of pressure he placed on himself.

Ryusui sighed and finally decided to say something. “I told you waiting was a terrible strategy, Senku.”

Gen’s head whipped towards him instantly. “You knew?!”

“Of course,” Ryusui’s eyes shifted from the shocked faces staring at him before they landed on Senku again. “Who do you think he dragged across three continents to look for the best lab that makes diamonds?”

Senku laughed in defeat, eyes meeting Ryusui’s. “Yeah, yeah, my calculations failed me on that one.”

Gen’s head returned back to him. “How long have you had the ring— and when were you planning to propose?!”

Senku sighed lazily, eyes drifting towards the ceiling. “Six months before she wanted to end things. I was planning to after my first trip to space, y’know, the sappy ‘I love you to the moon and back’ that she likes.”

Then he chuckled miserably. “Kept it with me ever since that night…It even made it to space.”

A/n: The call ended at 12:15 because it was no longer January 4. Get it, get it? This was genuinely the hardest fic I’ve ever written. I was struggling so hard trying not to make Senku ooc (I’ll let you guys be the judge of that again) tell me why I thought this was easier to write than the stanley fic I was writing before this one. tell me what u guys think abt this fic with some angst, mwahaha.

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