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Gen enjoyed thinking in pictures. Every so often when he tried to remember stories of the old words, he would say how things were as he thought of them. Like he was following a script and reading out. Despite his performer theatrics, much of Gen’s old life relied on absorbing pure information, statistics, cue cards, contracts, schedules, and whatever words he needed to twist to get his way.
Since his talk with Senku, Gen tried to branch his mind beyond thinking of words. The villagers seemed enthralled no matter how Gen relayed the past, but Gen noticed the difference. Gen tried to spend more time really thinking in pictures and remembering the feeling of being alive back then. From the texture of his glittery purple phone case to the sterile smell of his apartment to the taste of the awful diet colas his managers only permitted occasionally.
All the sensations of memory Gen started to forget of the millennia. With every passing second, Gen wondered if any of it was worth remembering. The paparazzi, the scandals, the pressure.
Then Gen remembered Senku counting in pictures for millennia to bring it all back, and Gen understood. The past had a lot of beauty in a way only humans could create. Beyond anything else, Senku kept striving for the beauty that is human dedication and ingenuity. Too many irreplaceable creations must have disappeared from the Mona Lisa to Lillian’s music. But people could still come back and create all over again. When Gen remembered how hard Senku worked for everyone, Gen pushed himself to think of the full picture. The grueling work’s end goal could be art and magical along the way. The art of creating instead of just beauty of creation.
Not that Senku appreciated or noticed Gen’s new mentality in the slightest.
“Hey, Mentalist, you need to wrap up your story to the kids. Lunch break is almost over,” Senku’s voice cut into Gen’s pleasant nostalgia retelling of when he saw smartphones come out when he was around 8 and the benefits of flip phones. Not that the village children would have an opinion on technology either way, but Gen was passionate about flip phones having charm holders.
“Boo, you’re no fun, Senku-chan. There’s no way lunch is almost over. It’s only 12:19.”
Senku’s lip twitched. “Are you seriously counting? It’s 12:36.” Senku picked at his ear and pouted in a way that seemed more disinterested than childish. “You’re not even close, but I guess it’s better than your attempt at telling me when lunch was about to start yesterday.”
“Damn. I had hoped you’d take my word for it and believe me.” Gen pouted for show, but in actuality, Gen enjoyed knowing he had been — relatively — close. Every day Gen tried to figure out what time it was without Senku’s guidance. Depending on the task, Gen found he could be up to an hour and 13 minutes incorrect. For what being wrong was worth, at least he got the time with 20 minutes.
“Three minutes and a half of lunch and you want to bicker instead of finishing your story?”
Well, no, Gen had no bone in his body that enjoyed “bickering,” but he enjoyed Senku and having their familiar back-and-forths. As far as Gen understood, they established their own way of flirting through it. A sign to show they thought of each other enough as equals that they could mess with each other and have their own special word play. They could speak so casually and without restraint, all the while being entirely restrained in public to not reveal too much of their unorthodox relationship.
Gen gave Senku a wink before turning back to the children. “I’ll be done in two minutes.” If the wink didn’t make Senku roll his eyes at Gen, the idea of Gen managing to count to 120 seconds while talking did. Still, Gen put a challenge on himself so he turned to the children and started his story again. “So all my smartphone ever had on it were boring adult things like emails and schedules and recordings of shows. But my 2009 flip phone had a cute Hello Kitty sticker and a cute charm of a white bunny in a top hat, and an 8-bit Princess Peach.”
“Gen, what’s a top hat?” Suika asked.
Totally missing the point, but in a distracting way. Gen already used, if he had the number right, 38 seconds of his 120 left. “Well, it’s a fashionable hat magicians use for tricks. If Yuzuriha makes one, I’ll be sure to show you the bunny trick. But anyway, flip phones contained a dedication. If you texted someone back, it showed real care for the other. It meant you really put in work and time to get yourself and your point across. Smartphones make talking so easy and unremarkable it defeated the purpose.”
There. Gen made it. “See, Senku-can. Only needed 2 minutes. I bet I even had 17 seconds remaining.”
Senku twitched his lips as he stared down Gen. he turned to Suika and the others. “You got it under two minutes, but it was close. Now let’s get the area cleaned from lunch so we can start on the next task.”
The children signed or groaned as they scampered around the meal station to grab any used bowls or utensils. The kids became fairly independent for menial chores, which gave Senku all the power to boss around Gen and Gen alone. It could have been romantic if not utterly grueling most of the time.
Senku started to walk away, which Gen took as cue to follow. “I already have the others set up at their stations. Chrome is scavenging materials, so you’re my lab assistant today. Not too ‘grueling’ for you?”
Gen shrugged as he walked with his hands hidden by his sleeves. “You find a way to make everything terrible in some way.”
“That so?” Senku paused his step to side-eye Gen. “Does that imply my cola is terrible, too?”
Gen gasped and reached out to hood Senku’s hand, giving him a firm tug. “Never. That’s the best part of this whole place.” Even as a joke, Gen had exactly one luxury, and could not afford to ruin it.
Senku rolled his eyes and kept walking to the observatory, hand still locked in with Gen’s. “I can’t believe I spoil you this much,” he said with a sigh, but something tugged at Gen’s heart about how he said it. Gen knew that if he asked for more, Senku would move mountains — entirely in a literal sense — to provide what he could. Senku was just like that with everyone, while also trying to ensure it came across as the benefit for everyone and fit into an even larger and more grandeur plan.
The grandeur of trying to do everything for everyone all the time in terms of planning inventions removed some marvel. Gen sensed it the same as Senku as he felt worn recreating the old inventions instead of exploring the new just to make society the same it was 3,700 years ago. Senku wanted more, more for Gen.
Senku wanted to spoil Gen.
Gen wished he could ask for more. Gen knew all the things to ask for that was more than a bare necessity that the old world could offer.
As it turned out, his life lacked for nothing. He had more than he had ever had before. Even if he had to work for it.
“C’mon, assistant,” Senku said as he climbed up the latter. Gen stayed respectful as he climbed after Senku with his eyes forward and not glancing at the definite show Senku put on.
“I feel like you’ll make me your lab rat more than your assistant,” Gen chided as he reached the top only to see Senku look at him with a wicked expression.
“You should feel flattered then. I actually find lab rats to be the most valuable and capable assets in any lab. And they’re pretty cute.” The words themselves did nothing to confuse Gen other than maybe confirming that the word “cute” actually came out of Senku’s mouth.
“I’m . . . surprisingly not offended being called a lab rat,” Gen admitted as he approached the main table Senku would use to work. Senku himself stood near the observatory opening and stared out the distance. The breeze coming in scattered the fallen locks of hair off his face so Gen could see the full spread of his face. Senku smiled without an ulterior motive in his mind. Something more akin to pride or contentness on his face. The sight nearly took Gen’s breath away until he turned away. “S-so what experiment did you want me to help with?”
Senku turned away from his spot and strutted toward Gen. Gen tilted his head in confusion considering Senku enjoyed going into details on experiments, even through Gen could also tell he enjoyed teasing Gen and the villagers nearly just as much. “How long do you think it took us to get here from the meal area?”
Senku was definitely the type to answer a question with a question. Gen just had to play along to connect the dots then. “Maybe about, mm, three minutes. Or if it’s coming from you, two minutes and 28 seconds.”
Senku put his hand under Gen under Gen’s chin and pulled his face in closer to his own. “Close. It was two minutes and 55 seconds. How long do you think we’ve been alone in here?”
Gen swallowed. “About. About the same. Two minutes. Twelve seconds?”
Senku leaned in even closer. “Close. Two minutes, eight seconds.” Senku took a step closer, effectively pinning Gen to the table’s edge. “How long do you think we have to stay alone together?”
Gen began to understand Senku, and also completely missed how he got into the current situation. “About thirty minutes before Chrome comes back with stones and offers to help.”
“Correct,” Senku said with his breath against Gen’s lips. “Not nearly long enough.”
Senku closed the distance as Gen wrapped his arms around his neck to deepen it. Kissing Senku came too seldom, and Gen wanted to have as much of Senku as he could. Only the need for air convinced them to separate.
“W-ow. Senku-chan, it’s not . . . It’s not even 11:56 yet,” Gen teased, though his tone was more longful than playful. Senku may have agreed to be sweet and romantic with Gen at 11:56 more often, but even then it was never a guarantee. Sometimes they were already asleep. Sometimes Senku would only kiss Gen on the cheek before continueing to do something else. But the tenderness of their relationship never existed outside that minute or so around it at night.
“You’re right. Relatively speaking, it’s nowhere close. How long do you think that kiss lasted?”
Gen sighed. The experiment Senku wanted assistance with suddenly came into full clarity. “About 28 seconds.”
Senku kissed Gen again, quick enough to count as more of a peck. “Close. 26 seconds from my start,” Senku answered as he slid out of Gen’s hold to grab his pen and paper. “How long have you been practicing keeping track of time, Mentalist?”
Gen rolled his eyes. He paused to think the answer through seriously, despite Senku not having any way to verify if Gen was right or wrong. “About . . . 9 days and . . . 13 and a half hours.”
Senku scribbed something down in his journal before turning back to Gen with a smug expression. “So since a little afte our first kiss?”
Pushing down any embarrassment or pride, Gen nodded. “You’ve been keeping track of that moment, too, then, Senku-chan.”
Senku averted his eyes and bit his lip. “Shut it, Mentalist. I’m naturally like this, keeping track of everything. I can’t really turn it off. Why did you start practicing?”
Gen sighed, not in any particular tone besides the need to get the breath he help out. Gen put his hands back into his sleeves and shrugged. “Maybe I was just being a little desperate and couldn’t wait for 11:56 in hopes you’d touch me like you had again. Or maybe I wanted to count with you, every precious moment dedicated to my heart. Point is that I started trying to keep track, and I like it too much to stop.”
“You’re getting good at it,” Senku observed as he wrote in his notes. “How are you keeping track.”
“Weirdly enough, in pictures since you mentioned it. ‘One-thousand-seven-hundred-and-fifty-nine’ is too much to remember than just a quick ‘1,759’ passing in the background as I tell stories. But I also think in broad pictures. I’ve been trying to entrain the feeling of how long it takes to tell story and how long it takes people to understand the story well enough to laugh then how long the laughter lasts. Or been trying to picture the length it takes to cook foxtail ramen in 38 and the image of cooking becomes my benchmark for how long 38 minutes lasts. It’s. Weird. Time as pictures.”
“Jeez, you’re so weird. A mentalist through an through. That’s not . . . what I meant by pictures at all. I can’t believe you remember that number, too.” Senku’s face looked a tad picked than it had before. A welcomed change from how these sorts of conversations went at night when Gen could only guess if Senku had a blush or not. “You shouldn’t get attached to having an imagine as a time reference.”
Gen shrugged again before he approached Senku and poked him on his cheek. “To each their own. I’m still practicing. Some images have stronger time feelings than others,” Gen stared at Senku with such a hot intensity as he spoke he ensured the imagine burned into both their memories.
“Let me guess, I’m something cringy and cliche like 3,700 or 11:56pm?”
“Close,” Gen replied with far too much satisfaction to use Senku’s own word against him, “Well, close that it’s cringy. Your guess actually sucks, but . . . you’re the image I have for eternity,” Gen started his words strong, but they got softer until the word eternity came out as a whispered promise. “Forever by your side.”
“That . . . jeez, that’s worse than embarrassing,” Senku said as he tried to hide his face in his collar. Not that it helped at all. “That’s just because there’s no point of eternity. You don’t have to bother counting at all; it’ll just continue anyway.”
“Oh, get off your high horse about counting. Eternity can be a person.” Gen punctuated his words by grabbed Senku’s hand and giving it a squeeze. Slowly, Gen leaned down to kiss Senku’s cheek. “It can be a feeling. Like of being with you. Even if it doesn’t make scientific or mathematical sense, it makes total sense.”
“Well,” Senku started, voice clipped as he scribbled another note down, “not even I can count to eternity. Consider yourself better at counting than me - for that one number.”
“Have you seriously never lost count before? Not once?” Gen asked.
Senku squeezed Gen’s hand back, and looked anywhere else besides his right-hand man. “Once,” Senku mumbled.
“I can’t hear you.” Gen rested his forehead on Senku’s. “Let me guess. It’s something cringy or embarrassing?”
Senku stared up at Gen, despite the close proximity making them both feel a bit cross-eyed. “Maybe you’ll think so, but it’s you. I mean, it’s literally you, the reason I lost track of time before. I’ve lost count of all the times you’ve made me . . . fall for you.” Senku pulled away with his hand gentle pushing against Gen’s chest to get Gen to take a step away. “Not that I’d lose count again! It’s just! It’s so frustrating, y’know?
“One minute, you’re some sketchy mentalist scheming for cola, the next I want to kiss you and reset the world with you by my side more than anyone else. I think it’s because there was a categorical change I didn’t know to compartmentalize when it started. All these things happened in between us, but I don’t know which are the things that made me like you as a friend and which made me like you as a partner-and-confidant and which made me like you as, uh, ugh, as a . . . whatever we are.” Senku let out a frustrated breath and took in a slow inhale. “If I tried to count now, I’m sure . . . I’d count every moment with you without fail as a reason I like you.”
Gen’s own face heated as Senku finally seemed to cool down. Senku seemed calmed now that he got to vent his turmoil to Gen, something Gen wished Senku had done long before if Senku really considered him his confidant. Slowly, Gen took the step foreward again and put their foreheads together. Once Gen knew Senku would not push him away again, Gen leaned in even more and stole the most chaste kiss he could from Senku’s lips.
“It’s more ironic than embarrassing. My passion for you makes me wants to dedicate every second I have to you, and you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Gen spoke so softly Senku could almost forgive the joke. Almost.
Senku shoved Gen away again, not nearly as gently as last time, and laughed. “Damn, this is annoying. Even that was a moment I have to count as one of the reasons why I love you so much.”
Gen’s breath hitched in his throat. “And I,” Gen started before the words felt thick in his chest so much they could burst out, “and I love you, too. For eternity.”
Senku made one last scribble in his notes, much more rushed than and feverishly written down, before slamming down his makeshift pencil and pulling Gen close. “We only have about 21 minutes before Chrome walks in on us. Want to start a new experiment with me?”
“Depends. What time is it now?”
“About 1:12.”
“‘About’? Since when have you been ‘about’?” Gen asked with a raised eyebrow as he wrapped his arms around Senku’s waist.
“Since the seconds don’t matter enough to say if it means extra time my lips aren’t on you,” Senku replied as he highlighted every other word with a kiss in various parts of Gen’s body from his forehead to his hands to his neck.
“Will you be this sweet with me at about 1:12 tomorrow?” Gen pleaded as Senku kissed a sensitive spot behind his ear.
“I’m always this sweet to you. Too many times to recall.”
Gen giggled as he felt Senku’s hand roam over his body. And his words rang true. Senku really was sweet with Gen more times than he could count. With the drive to be as loving as he could too many times to count in the future, just the same.