Chapter Text
Love was an interesting word to Gen. Growing up, his dads had always shown each other love and attention, but they never actually said it out loud. They had shown Gen ample amounts of affection growing up. (Well, Stanley did…)
He had only learned to use the word from Aoi, but it stuck with him. He would say it rarely, but it was always on the tip of his tongue. However, his snake-like nature refused to let the syllables slip out of his mouth, the words getting stuck between his teeth uncomfortably.
Such a small word consumed his every waking thought. Emotions ran wild through the hollow of his skull and bashed painfully into the barrier, causing headaches and discomfort. He had heard of dying from a broken heart; could that happen from proximity?
A large sigh left Gen’s lips just moments before Senku opened the door to their shared bunk room. He had been rooming with Ryusui in the same room prior, so watching Senku navigate around the room with his eyes closed, tossing a pair of gloves to the side into a pile of other lab equipment, came as no surprise.
Senku sat down on his bed facing toward the middle of the already cramped room.
“Mentalist,” he started, eyes darting around the room, taking it all in for the millionth time. “Corn City is going to take the entire winter season to set up at minimum. Housing is going to take up a large majority of that time. Motivation-wise, since we don't have enough housing on the Perseus, do we revive people once minimal housing is complete, or do we revive people immediately and make them build their own housing?”
It took a moment for Gen to process Senku's question, his brain catching up to the sudden attention before he ran through his mental rolodex. He contemplated for longer than usual; the intricacies of the situation had lots of variables. Unfortunately, Senku was watching him intently, making it hard to focus. His answer came quickly to mind once he recovered from the disruption.
“Since we have a solid population currently, setting up minimal housing for those we leave here and those we revive would be a better idea than adding more people to our ranks immediately. It will, however, make the building and farming process slower.” Gen spoke, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of manual labor. Senku nodded toward him before lowering himself fully onto the bed.
“I have another question.” Gen made a hum of surprise, shifting slightly to his side and setting his hand against the mattress. Senku turned his head to the side, facing him eye to eye. “Are you happy?”
Gen startled, his brain short-circuiting for a moment as he blue-screened at the question.
Since when did Senku care about that?!
“My, my, Senku-chan~” He tried to play it cool, but his heart spiked so fast he could practically feel the pressure grow against his ribs. “Since when did little old me mean so much to you~” Senku’s eyes narrowed, nearly engulfing the red irises in darkness. The remaining red pierced into him in disapproval.
“You're indispensable to this team, to me. Now answer the question, Mentalist.” Gen huffs at the response, cheeks heating up into a pale pink only Senku could see. He always worried he was too easy to read since he and Senku had worked together so long. There was no way the scientist hadn’t figured out a few of Gen's tells.
“I suppose I’m rather happy, if that makes you feel better,” He started, head drifting up toward the ceiling. “I do miss Japan, but at least the modern beds on the Perseus are more comfortable than our futons. However, the thought of manual labor does make me less happy in the grand scheme of our plans.”
“That’s it? You’re a bit stuck, but both of us are already useless enough in the grand scheme of strength to begin with. I’m sure our fighters will be more than happy to build while we continue with infrastructure planning for Corn City.”
Gen let out a sigh, head lolling to the right before falling forward again. An impending headache reared around the corner, ready to strike the moment he heard anything more about work to be done. Relief washed over him, if only for a moment, as he registered the implications of all his work being done within the confines of the ship.
Silence washed over both of them, the only sounds that rattled through the walls being the crash of waves against the hull. It was peaceful, if Gen had to describe it. Silence between them had never been awkward. The silence felt more like home than the chaos. Despite his conniving personality, he grew up in a calm home with two very rational people. Senku reminded him of that.
Maybe that’s why Gen had developed… something.
Although he already knew the word, he refused to say it. Not even to himself. If he said it, it became real. For now, he would tuck it away into the recesses of his mind; he would pretend it had never been a thought conceived. Gen knew that would only take him so far. He hoped it would at least take him across the sea. However, Senku and Gen’s luck was notoriously bad. He knew it was only a matter of time before something went horribly wrong.
“Well, if that’s all, I was planning on going to sleep.” Senku gave a nod and turned over, a small whisper beneath his breath Gen couldn’t make out. He didn’t ask, just lay down and pulled his shabby blanket over himself. Snuggling into the deflated pillow, Gen closed his eyes and set off to dream.
He didn’t. He tossed and turned and replayed every moment since his depetrification on loop. The years blended throughout the night. When he finally fell asleep, he woke only a few hours later to no one in the room.
Light filtered in through the small porthole window, assaulting Gen’s eyes as he struggled to blink them open. He could feel the stale air caressing his skin, beckoning him to stay down and ignore the pressure. Only for a moment did he entertain the thought.
Rising to his feet, Gen stretched himself out with his hands in the air. Small pops followed his movements as he got dressed. His overcoat felt comfortable under the ship, but on deck it could be miserable. Thankfully, the air was starting to cool as they neared North America in the autumn.
Upon shutting the door behind him, Gen was assaulted with the sight of Ryusui and Ukyo arguing as they walked down the hallway. Ukyo turned his head the moment Gen took a breath, his keen hearing alerting him to a third participant in their conversation. He held his head high before turning his body toward Gen.
“Gen, be honest, do you think our communications system is as powerful as the Perseus can contain?” Ryusui whipped his head to Gen, a smile on his face and a crazed glint in his eyes. It made Gen uneasy.
“Well, I would have to say yes; we just don’t have the capacity physically to add any more components, I believe. Although I suppose we could always make room, but we would have to make other sacrifices.”
“Thank you, Gen. Someone gets it.” Ukyo looked back up to Ryusui, who had a now slightly frustrated smile. He snapped his fingers, the sound reverberating off the metal walls and echoing throughout Gen’s skull.
“I’ll get it all, one way or another! We’ll make space!” Ukyo smiled apologetically as he directed Ryusui away. Ryusui turned back over his shoulder before Ukyo could force him to walk too far. “Gen!” He continued. “Senku wanted to see you when you woke up! He’s in the control room!”
Something swelled inside of Gen, his heart fluttering uncomfortably. Senku wanted to talk to him alone. If Ryusui and Ukyo weren't going, there was no way Chrome was invited either. If it wasn’t a five-wise-commanders meeting, what could it be? Why could it not have happened in their room last night? The other two commanders were gone before Gen could ask any questions.
Without any clue of his purpose, Gen walked to the control room. Upon entering, he saw one of Ryusui’s trained assistants at the helm and Senku standing over the island table. On the table was a drawn-out map and a few pencils. Senku didn’t even look up as he approached.
“Good morning, Senku-chan!” Gen sang, hopping into his resting spot at Senku’s side. He got a grumble of agreement. He handed Gen a pencil before they settled into their positions. They were nearly touching; the distance made Gen’s heart flutter. How long had it been since it was just them? It felt like those days back when he was nothing but a shifty spy. This time he was making the information, not just gathering it.
“We’re planning out Corn City like I said last night. Get to drawing.” Gen blinked in surprise, a flash of confusion visible on his face. He pushed his smile to the side to get the point across more visibly.
“If we’re doing urban planning, shouldn’t all five of us be here?”
“I don’t need the other three; I need you, Gen.”
The use of Gen’s name seemed to startle both of them. For the first time since entering the room, Senku lifted his head from the blueprints and stared straight at the adjacent wall. Rose wasn’t a pretty enough word to describe the shade his face was. If Gen could stare at that color forever, he would be content in life.
They both cleared their throats at the same time. A little giggle passed through Gen’s lips at their synchronization. He stood up straight for a moment to find his balance before slumping back down to Senku’s height. Head to find some humor to break Senku’s tension.
“It’s just my name, Senku-chan! It shouldn’t be embarrassing to say!”
“It’s not just your name.” Senku started, his hand coming up to his ear, pinky out. “You’ve just been so distant lately. I need you back, that’s all.”
Gen’s mouth went dry. Senku had noticed they had been separated. Senku had done something about it. He hadn’t thought Gen was being clingy or loud; he thought Gen was gone! A smile broke out across his face as he did what he always does with Senku. He spoke without thinking.
“Oh my, that sounds like a love confession, hm~.”
Senku’s mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish out of water, his heartbeat nearly audible in the still silence of the room. His face returned to that lovely shade of pink Gen found himself so fond of.
“I just need my mentalist, okay? This kingdom doesn’t run without you.” He took a pause. “I don’t run without you. Science can only get us so far if we can’t convince people to fight for our cause. Being in a full room without you is nerve-wracking, alright?”
Gen couldn’t breathe. Air fluttered by his face, but no air could make its way into his lungs. Forming words became impossible in his mind; he just smiled and nodded without any reason.
“I see,” Gen brushed it off. “I guess I’ll have to stick by you from now on! You won’t be able to get rid of me.~”
“I don’t want to get rid of you. I never will. We’re stuck together, forever.”
“See, Senku-chan! Now that sounds like a love confession!”
“Because it is, Mentalist.”