Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Argh, fuck.”

Senku yelled out as he crashed to the floor, head smashing into the side of his nightstand. The digital clock sat on top clattered down next to him and skittered across the wood.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his head.

Not the most pleasant way to wake up.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen out of bed, years ago probably, but he decidedly didn’t miss it. At least he was alert.

He stood up and retrieved his clock, checking it was still working. The back was half hanging off, the impact dislodging the plastic casing, but the screen still faithfully blinked up at him, reading seven am. He clicked it back together and placed it back on the nightstand.

He yawned and stretched. From his room he could hear the buzzing of the radio in the kitchen, where Byakuya was no doubt already guzzling as much coffee as he could. Considering the throbbing in his head, Senku figured he could do with a cup himself.

He pulled on a pair of old sweatpants and trudged into the kitchen barefoot.

As he walked in, he was greeted by his father’s back sitting at the small table and the crackling of a radio host saying something about Christmas sales records. Byakuya was already dressed and ready for work, greying hair slicked back and wearing what, if you squinted, could be called professional clothes. Byakuya had never truly gotten over the casual comfort his jumpsuits had offered him during his stint as an astronaut back when Senku was a teenager, and had tried to recapture it after returning to being a professor. The university hadn’t much appreciated that.

Senku ignored him in favour of the kettle, flicking it on and grabbing a bowl and a mug from the cupboard.

“Morning,” Byakuya said.

He didn’t respond.

“I heard a crash, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Senku moved to grab the carton of milk already on the counter for his coffee and noticed the box of cornflakes next to it. His cornflakes.

Suspicious, because Byakuya preferred traditional Japanese breakfasts, Senku picked up the box and peered inside.

It was empty.

Nothing but the few remaining crumbs still clinging to the bottom of the box.

“Did you seriously eat the rest of my cereal?”

He turned around to look at his father, face full of cornflakes and the bowl sitting in front of him overflowing with Senku’s daily dose of cardboard.

“There was only enough for one bowl.”

“Liar.”

Byakuya swallowed. “Would it kill you to have toast for once in your life?”

“Yes. So much as touching it could fatally poison me.” Senku grabbed the bag of bread and stuck a slice in the toaster. “I suppose that was your master plan all along, bump me off so you don’t have to deal with my debt.”

“Curses, how did you figure it out?”

Senku cracked a smile. “You should know you can’t outsmart me by now, old man.”

He pulled the butter out from the fridge and dropped it onto the counter before dropping himself in to the seat across from his father. Most of the small table was taken up by the dinosaur Byakuya called a laptop, which really had no business being there. It wasn’t even open; Byakuya was too busy looking at his phone and stuffing his face with Senku’s breakfast.

“Oi, kid,” Byakuya said, glancing up. “You busy today?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” he looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yuzuriha and Taiju are leaving tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course.” Byakuya nodded. “But what about this evening?”

Senku opened his mouth to answer before abruptly closing it and furrowing his brow. “Why?”

Byakuya put his phone down, looking distinctly sheepish. “Well, it’s just that Lillian-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“I didn’t need to.” Senku leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. He saw this coming from a mile off. “You want me to hang out with your girlfriend because you don’t have the time and don’t want her to be lonely.”

“Senku, she’s my fiancée. And no, that’s not it at all.”

Byakuya was always trying to rope him into doing stuff with Lillian, and it had only gotten worse after he’d proposed. He understood that Byakuya just wanted them to get along, but Senku didn’t want to be dragged around by his dad and a woman he barely knew.

“Lillian said she wanted you to go with her,” Byakuya said. “It’s only coincidence that I can’t go.”

“Wants me to go where?”

Byakuya opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of the front door being unlocked. They both looked up as it opened.

“Speak of the devil,” Senku muttered under his breath.

“Good morning!” Lillian greeted with a bright smile on her face. Even this early, not a strand of her perfect blonde hair was out of place and her makeup was flawless. Not that Senku was surprised to see it from an international superstar, but sometimes he questioned whether she was even a real person.

“Morning,” Byakuya returned, sitting up and grinning as she walked over and bent to kiss his cheek.

Senku rolled his eyes and got up to deal with the kettle, which had chosen that same moment to go off, much to his relief.

He could still hardly believe someone like Lillian had decided to go after his father of all people, aging weirdo that he was. Byakuya had met her during his previously mentioned time as an astronaut and they had kept contact afterwards, eventually becoming… this.

“I was just talking to Senku about that shindig you’ve got going on tonight.”

She laughed. “It’s a bit more formal than a shindig. But there’ll be lots of people there and I think it would be a wonderful opportunity to-”

“I’m busy,” Senku interrupted.

“Oh, no, it’s not until tonight,” Byakuya said.

“Yeah, I have stuff to do.” Senku finished buttering his toast and picked up his plate and coffee. “So, err… sorry.”

“But Senku…”

“It’s alright.” Lillian placed her hand on Byakuya’s shoulder, a gentle and understanding look on her face. “He’s a young man, he doesn’t need to be spending time with me of all people.”

Byakuya frowned but didn’t say anything further.

Senku looked between the two of them for a moment before grunting and nodding as a farewell and beating a hasty retreat back to his bedroom.

He didn’t come out again until he heard them both leave.

Senku eventually caught his train and made his way over to the café he had agreed to meet Taiju and Yuzuriha at.

It wouldn’t have been Senku’s first choice. The place was decked out for the season, with tinsel lining every other flat surface; decorative snowflakes and paper chains hanging from the ceiling; and cheesy music playing over the ambient speakers. All a little bit gaudy for Senku’s taste.

It was packed too. Having just gone noon, the lunch rush was predictably in full swing when he arrived. The line extended to the door and every table in the place was taken up by excitable young adults with seasonal drinks, tired parents entertaining their children and the occasional salaryman looking for a break.

But if it was what his friends wanted, he wasn’t about to say no.

He looked around and finally spotted them right at the back, in a booth by the cheap looking Christmas tree, food and drinks already ordered and started on. Once Taiju noticed he was there, he stood up from his seat on the end of the table and loudly waved him over, a giant smile on his face.

Everything about Taiju was giant, from his stature, to his voice, to his pure presence, and even from the back of the room he drew a few glances as he got to his feet. Once upon a time Senku might have been embarrassed, but he’d known Taiju far too long for that to bother him anymore.

“Senku!” Taiju greeted as he approached. “We were worried you wouldn’t show.”

Senku glanced around the café once again, with its kitschy furniture, weird art, overflowing crowds and over-the-top decoration, and agreed that, yeah, under different circumstances he might have turned around and cancelled.

“I’m not about to ditch you today, am I?”

“That’s what I said,” Yuzuriha agreed.

In stark comparison to Taiju, Yuzuriha was small and delicate, soft spoken and pretty in a quiet way. But the smile she wore as she greeted Senku was painted with the same blinding sunshine as Taiju’s was.

“I’m glad you did agree to come, I know it won’t be very fun.”

Senku shrugged and pulled his heavy coat off, throwing it onto the empty booth seat. He sat down and, while he was grateful that Taiju had decided to leave the booth seat for him, he couldn’t say it was particularly worth it. “It’s not really about fun, is it?”

The two of them were leaving for a holiday in the morning and wouldn’t be back until the following autumn. It was a long time, so Senku had agreed to accompany them on a last-minute supply trip as an excuse to spend time together. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and he wasn’t so heartless as to skimp on the last time he’d see his friends for eight months.

“We’ll have fun anyway,” Taiju said with a tone of certainty that couldn’t be argued with. “It’s always fun when all three of us are together.”

“Cringe,” Senku said, smirking as he picked up the coffee he assumed was for him.

Taiju was undeterred. “The only thing that would make our trip better would be if you were coming too. Just like old times.”

Senku raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it supposed to be some kind of Soulmate thing? Wouldn’t it be weird if I was there?”

Taiju frowned, caught out by Senku’s logic. “Yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it?”

“Not that we don’t appreciate your company,” Yuzuriha added.

She didn’t have to be polite. Under no circumstances would Senku want to join them. Not only would it be kinda gross, but it also felt disrespectful to come between Soulmates like that.

While Taiju and Yuzuriha were a special pair in their own right (you would be hard pressed to find another like them as long as you lived), they were also Soulmates. As in, two people bound by fate in a tangible way.

Soulmates were rare, not so much as to be unheard of, but you’d be tempted to brag about knowing someone who had one. People made the news every now and then for their weird ‘bond marks’; a rather inappropriate name as they weren’t always a marking.

These two, for instance, couldn’t lie to each other.

Taiju and Yuzuriha had known each other for years before they realised that they were Soulmates, namely because they were both such honest, earnest people who disliked lying in the first place. But they had been inseparable ever since. They had been inseparable before that as well though; Senku thought that their ridiculous pussyfooting around each other throughout middle school was, while very annoying, also proof of the legitimacy of this whole Soulmate business.

As such, he felt distinctly uncomfortable interrupting time set aside just for them. He was glad to be spending this time with them at least, even if he’d never admit to it.

“You have today to drag me around, so that’ll have to do,” Senku said, leaning back in his seat. “What have you got planned, anyway?”

“Not a lot,” Yuzuriha said. “We need some bug spray; a new water bottle since Taiju broke his; and I thought we could do with one of those boxes that stores charge for your phone.”

“And I want some new socks.”

“And Taiju wants some socks.”

Senku snorted. “Why do you need more socks?”

“Fluffy socks. I don’t want my feet to get cold.”

“You’re going to Okinawa.”

“It’s December, Senku.”

Senku looked over to Yuzuriha but she just shrugged. He figured it was pointless trying to argue with Taiju on this, and since Yuzuriha wasn’t going to bother he let it drop.

“We also need to drop by the train station to pick up our tickets to the airport,” Yuzuriha added. “Plus, I’d like to visit the bank. It’s nothing exciting, I’m afraid, but I’m still glad you’re here.” She smiled and picked up her tea. “It’ll be strange, not seeing you for so long.”

Senku shrugged. “You can still call me.”

“It won’t be the same.”

Taiju nodded. “Yeah, we’re gonna miss you.”

“I know you will.” Senku sipped on his coffee, hiding his smile. “We should hurry up and eat so you can get on with your list.” Not that he wanted it to be over soon, but it was easier than admitting that he’d miss them too.

“Rise and shine!”

Gen clamped his eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of bright light.

“What are you doing?” He grumbled, pulling his bedsheets over his head. “What time is it?”

“It’s seven!”

Gen groaned louder. “Ryu, what the actual fuck.”

“We’ve got a busy day and that means an early morning.”

“It’s only busy because you insist on it being so.”

Reluctantly, Gen sat up, squinting against the sun streaming in through the large windows on the other side of the room. He was met by Ryusui’s dazzling smile much too close to his face.

Gen blinked, still half asleep, and pushed him away.

“I’m up, I’m up.”

“Excellent.” Ryusui sprang back and began picking through Gen’s things.

After a moment Gen snapped to attention.

What did he just do? Did he just… oh for the love of God, why did it have to be this early in the morning? He wasn’t thinking straight. Was he even thinking? Touching Ryusui so casually; he was an idiot. It was a miracle it was nothing worse.

After calming down, accepting the reality that nothing had happened, Gen bunched his hands in the duvet and watched Ryusui flit about the room, rummaging through his clothes.

Even this early in the morning Ryusui looked put together and ready to go; especially this early in the morning. The soft light from the window gave his skin a healthy glow and highlighted the definition of his muscles beneath the slim fitting t-shirt he was wearing. Ryusui was a big personality on the best of days, but when seen like this he could have been the sun itself, his blonde hair luminous in the dawn and sharp eyes gleaming with ambition and purpose.

Oh shit, he was staring.

Gen quickly averted his eyes. Stupid. What if Ryusui caught him again? There had been far too many close calls, he couldn’t keep just brushing it off as being lost in thought, that was too convenient.  Ryusui would grow suspicious eventually, he may have been an idiot but he was far from stupid.

But watching Ryusui like this, so casually running about the room, picking out Gen’s clothes… it was almost domestic.

No, he wasn’t allowed to think like that. It was futile anyway.

And… wait, Ryusui was doing what?

“Ryu, you don’t get to decide what I’m wearing today.”

Ryusui turned around, shock painted over his face. “Why not?”

“I don’t feel like I should need to answer that.”

“You see, Gen,” Ryusui said matter-of-factly, putting the shirt he was holding down on the dresser. “I’ve already planned everything. What if you wear something that throws off the balance? The three of us must make a striking appearance at the party tonight, it is of utmost importance. Today must be perfect; that is what I desire.”

And when Ryusui desires something, that is how it will go. Although, Gen isn’t quite sure he can let this one slide.

He sighed and pulled back the covers to get out of bed.

“I appreciate that, Ryu,” he said, picking the shirt up and folding it. “But it’s a little too far for you to decide what I get to wear. You’re not my mother.”

Gen looked up and saw the disappointment in Ryusui’s eyes and felt his heart leap into his throat. “B-but I suppose… I’ll let you decide for the party. But not the rest of the day.”

Ryusui’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Brilliant. Because I’ve booked us all in to get new suits for the occasion.”

Of course he had.

It was then that Gen realised not only how close they were, but that he was still in his pyjamas, which consisted of nothing more than an old t-shirt and his boxers.

At what point the previous night had he failed to anticipate Ryusui waking him up?

He’s known this was happening for weeks. He wasn’t even that tired last night, he was just being careless. One might have thought that after years of this shit he would stop making such fundamental mistakes, but no. If anything, Gen had been messing up more and more; he supposed he was finally running out of energy for it.

That was why he was leaving though. So, it wouldn’t be a problem after today.

But today was already proving to be a problem.

Mustering all of his self-control, Gen managed to reign back both the violent flinch and deep blush and turned to his dresser, pulling out some clothes of his own choosing.

“You'll have to leave if I’m going to get dressed.”

“That never used to be a problem,” Ryusui whined. “You never gave a shit about it in high school.”

This man was trying to give him an aneurism.

Gen gave many, many shits about it in high school, he had just been very good at not letting Ryusui know. “Since then, I have learned the value of my privacy, even from you.” Gen crossed his arms over his chest and pointedly looked away. “Either way, I refuse to get changed until you leave, and we can’t start on your very important itinerary until I do.” It was a feat how steady Gen managed to keep his voice, if he said so himself. He was pretty certain that if Ryusui stayed too much longer he would spontaneously combust.

“Fine, fine. Whatever. I’ll be waiting outside. And don’t take too long, breakfast will be ready soon.”

Once Ryusui left the room, Gen let out a deep breath and dropped back down onto the bed. He hung his head and sat for a moment, gathering himself, before finally stretching and yawning.

Looking in the large mirror on the doors to his wardrobe, Gen could see the dark bags under his eyes and the defeat etched into his forehead. He’d thought a decent night’s sleep might have fixed those. Maybe they would have if Ryusui wasn’t dragging him out of bed at the crack of dawn.

He cared for Ryusui so much, but keeping up appearances around him was exhausting.

Fifteen minutes later and Gen was as presentable as he was going to get with how much sleep he was running on. He had tried, of course, looking good was a matter of pride for Gen and he knew that what he wore on any given day could mean the difference between a disaster and something bearable. He had to pick out something inconspicuous, he didn’t want to be recognised while they were out and cause a hold up. But if he looked too thrown together it would look like he wasn’t trying. He was tired, but he couldn’t let the others know that, and walking out in sweats and a hoodie would be signalling that he’d given up on life in bright neon lights.

If he could have it his way, the only standard that would matter would be that it was warm. And in the end, it was, so he was content.

Gen snatched his phone from the nightstand and stuffed it in his pocket before making for the door.

He grabbed the handle, but he didn’t open it. He took a moment to gather himself.

Just one more day.

Gen took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Morning, Gen.”

He was immediately greeted by Ukyo, who was finishing up on making them breakfast, and had Ryusui draped leisurely over his back, fiddling with his hair.

It took every ounce of Gen’s self-restraint not to immediately grimace.

Instead, he plastered on a cheerful smile and shut the door behind him. “Morning, Ukyo. What’s cooking?”

“Just tamagoyaki. Considering everything Ryu’s got planned I figured something too heavy would be a bad idea.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening. I can’t wait.”

Ukyo laughed.

Gen nodded and moved to stand in the kitchen with them. It would look a little odd if he stood too far away, right? But he didn’t want to get too into their space, that would be invasive. They were obviously comfortable, Gen didn’t want to get in between that or make it awkward or, God forbid, make it look like he was interfering on purpose.

Neither of them noticed Gen’s internal debate as he rested against the countertop exactly two feet away from them.

Gen concentrated on the food Ukyo was preparing, a cooked meal that went above and beyond what was expected.

Since Ryusui had met Ukyo, he’d taken on the necessary role of mediator and vague caregiver, bringing with him a responsibility that hadn’t been there when it was just Gen and Ryusui. He was a lot less animated than either of them but warm and cheerful, the definition of placidity. Just being around Ukyo managed to make Gen feel more at ease, and in spite of every reason he had, Ukyo had proven impossible to dislike.

In fact, excluding Ryusui, Ukyo was his closest friend and confidant.

Ukyo was just finishing turning over what looked to be a third omelette, the other two were sitting on a warm plate next to the stovetop, neatly shaped and ready for cutting and plating. They looked mouth-watering.

He really didn’t deserve to have friends who went to such lengths for him.

“You two make it seem like I’m unreasonable,” Ryusui said.

Gen snorted. “That’s because you are.”

Ryusui stopped playing with Ukyo’s hair to look up at Gen and pout. It made his heart clench.

“It’s not my fault you’re going on tour. Four months, Gen. Four months without you. What if I want to see you? My desires are not something to be trifled with.”

“Your desires have no bearing over my career,” Gen shot back. “It’s not like I asked to go, my manager said it would be a good idea and I agreed.”

That was a barefaced lie but Gen wasn’t about to admit that any time soon. He had begged his manager to send him on tour and then relentlessly bugged her to make it last longer. He was lucky he had a large enough international fanbase to warrant it.

“Besides, none of that gave you the liberty to micromanage the last day Gen has to relax,” Ukyo said, pushing Ryusui off of him to transfer the last omelette and plate them. “You should have seen the original plan. It wasn’t humanly possible.”

“I’m not surprised.” Gen took the first plate once Ukyo was done with it and placed it on the dining table before sitting. He took extra care not to touch either of them, although he had to contort his arm a little unnaturally to do so. He watched the both of them for a second afterwards, to see if they had noticed. What if they thought he was avoiding touching them because he thought they were gross or something? To say he wasn’t particularly fond of their touchy-feely habits was a bit of an understatement, but he’d sooner die than make them feel uncomfortable around him.

“I just got a little excited,” Ryusui said, having very much not noticed Gen’s arm gymnastics. He picked up the plates and moved them to the table.

“A little?” Ukyo scoffed, taking the seat across from Gen. “If you say so.”

Ryusui placed one of the plates in front of Ukyo and leaned in close as he did so. “You find it endearing.”

“I most certainly do not.” The smile on his face suggested otherwise.

Gen fixed his gaze on his plate, determined to find it interesting. He was confident the two lovebirds were too fixated on each other to notice any of his strange behaviour.

He cut the slice of omelette with the blunt of his fork before skewering it and shoving it in his mouth, perhaps with a little too much force.

It tasted as good as it looked, but thinking about taking another bite made Gen want to gag.

He felt dirty, eating this. Eating something that’s been prepared with so much care. He hardly deserved this. He didn’t deserve any of this, especially Ukyo and Ryusui.

There was no one on the planet he cared about more than those two, these two people who have been so good to him, so patient and affectionate and sacrificing, all for his sake. And here he was, spending half his time wishing they were either as far away from him as possible, or green with envy at everything they had.

He was disgusting.

Gen picked up another chunk of omelette and forced it into his mouth.

It really was delicious.

Chapter Text

Senku’s day was pretty great.

As they all grew up and had to get on with their lives, Senku had less and less time to spend with his friends, and he couldn’t remember the last time they were able to just waste time together.

Predictably, Yuzuriha’s to-do list was completed within the first hour, leaving them with plenty of time before any of them had to be somewhere. Well, before Yuzuriha and Taiju had to be somewhere, Senku never seemed to be busy these days.

They dipped in and out of shops, picked up hot cocoa, looked at the public decoration displays and even visited an arcade, which Senku hadn’t done in who knows how long.

It was fun, but like all good things it had to end eventually.

“We’ll call you as soon as we land.”

“And I’ll take a lot of pictures.”

“And we’ll be sure to send you lots of postcards.”

“I’ll find you all the coolest souvenirs. Oh, and rocks, you like rocks!”

Senku chuckled. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Oh, Senku” Taiju tried to trap Senku in a hug but he sidestepped it with practised ease and patted him on the back.

“Have a safe trip, you big oaf.”

They waved back to him as they walked off and Senku watched them go until it became too awkward to keep staring. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off in the opposite direction.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time. It was only half four. If he got home and Byakuya was there, as unlikely as that was, he’d have questions to answer, and Senku didn’t fancy having to justify turning Lillian’s invitation down.

Senku’s dislike of Lillian was so strange that even he didn’t understand it. Nothing about his feelings towards her were rational. She was a sweet, thoughtful and generous person, and she made Byakuya happy. He should have adored her on the latter point alone.

And yet…

Senku just couldn’t bring himself to like her. Everything about her seemed to irritate him, from her Southern American accent; to her flawless beauty; to her unrelenting kindness towards him in spite of everything he did. How she could continue to be so patient with him was a mystery and he wished she’d just give up.

Was she trying to prove a point? Was winning him over some kind of personal challenge? Was she just trying to lure him into a false sense of security?

Logically, he knew she was probably just doing it to make Byakuya happy. And somehow even that was annoying.

Worst of all though, the thing that got on his nerves the most, was her constant back and forth between America and Japan. He had no problem with her leaving for months at a time, it was that she seemed to always take Byakuya with her nowadays.

He knew that it was only normal. She was born and raised in the US, most of her career was stationed there. It was a miracle she found the time to be in Japan as often as she did. And Byakuya was an adult, he could do what he wanted and it was only natural that what he wanted was to be with the woman that he loved.

But… It rubbed Senku the wrong way. It felt so presumptuous, that she thinks Byakuya can just leave as much as he wants like he doesn’t have a job and a life in Japan already. Senku would never understand how he justified it.

It had been on one of those trips that they’d gotten engaged. Senku hadn’t been told until Byakuya came home a week later.

Again, Byakuya was an adult, Senku was an adult, none of it should have mattered.

And still.

People just don’t get along sometimes, Senku knew this. But it was frustrating that the one person he couldn’t bring himself to like was also the person his father had asked to marry him.

Senku didn’t realise he’d walked all the way to the park until he heard the screaming of children and felt grass underfoot.

It wasn’t busy, but it was far from empty. The sun was starting to set and the festive light displays strung throughout the park would be turning on soon, so people were still hanging around to see them before heading home. Families with excitable children, teenagers showing each other their phones and he saw an elderly couple walking down by the river bank.

He continued to stroll around aimlessly until he came up next to an empty bench, pushed out of the way under a tree. It was out of the way enough to be isolated from all the people, but close enough to the main path to still benefit from the street lamps.

He took a seat, hands still buried in his warm pockets, and looked around. He was trying to waste time, but now that he was here, he couldn’t think of what to do with himself. He hadn’t brought anything with him besides his phone and money, he hadn’t anticipated needing anything more than that with Taiju and Yuzuriha, and the park was a generally boring place to be without company or purpose.

And it was cold. It wouldn’t be long before he could see his breath in front of his face.

Senku sighed and stretched before pulling out his phone.

He hadn’t actually been to this park in a long time. He used to visit a lot as a child, testing out his various projects and inventions. That was how he’d met Taiju. But he hadn’t had to resort to using public spaces as launch sites for a long time; the university had plenty of dedicated test sites on campus.

He didn’t have access to the university anymore though. If he ever found it in himself to do something, he might have to return to using public spaces until he got a job.

If he got a job.

This was the first time in his life that Senku found himself without an immediate goal or purpose. He still knew what he wanted to do with himself, he wanted to go to space, and he knew exactly how to get there. The only problem was that he… hadn’t.

There had been ample opportunity. The university he had attended was one of the best in the country; he could have filled out forms or sought out advice or even applied for postgraduate study. But in the end, he’d woken up one day to find that he’d run out of time, that his final year was over, and that he had to pack up and leave.

Of course, he wasn’t actually out of time. The university still had resources for graduates and contacts for alumni to take advantage of, but it was like there was a block in his brain that chose to ignore that. It preferred self-pity to acknowledging that it was all his fault. That the only thing standing between him and making something of himself was his own apathy.

He sat there for a couple of hours, until the sky was dark and the only people still around were commuters. The park was stained with the blue of night, the grass around him only visible under the street lamps a few feet away. Further off he could see the large light displays hanging in a canopy above the main walkway, so bright that standing under it would have been indistinguishable to standing in broad daylight.

His hands had grown cold and red by that time, clumsy on his screen and vaguely painful. After the fifth time he almost dropped his phone, Senku supposed it was finally time to go home.

He walked back along the river, further into the dark and away from the spectacle. The water flowing by was black, the occasional ripples on the surface bringing up brief panes of colour before merging back with the seamless expanse. He paused and, spying a small stone on the bank, Senku kicked it into the water.

The stone met the surface with an unsatisfying glug, leaving quiet ripples behind it but not much else.

He sighed before readjusting his scarf and continuing on to the nearest metro station.

The trains were busy, as they always were at this time, but Byakuya’s house was in a smaller, less populated part of the city, so almost everyone else had disembarked by the time the train pulled into his local station. He emerged onto a dead footpath, lit only by the white glare of the corner store that stood next to the station’s entrance.

It was still open, and inside he could see a gaggle of tweens fawning over a trading card stand by the front window. After considering whether potential interaction with children was worth it, he decided it was and ducked in to pick up some more cereal.

Despite being happy to help himself to it, Byakuya had always been puzzled by Senku’s insistence on eating cereal every morning. Senku told him it was a matter of convenience over nutrition, a bowlful of carbs and manufactured fibre, while not the healthiest breakfast option, was fast to make and eat. But, if he was being honest with himself, Senku knew it was just that he couldn’t be bothered to make anything more than that.

Getting up in the morning was hard enough without having to use effort first thing. After all, he wasn’t startled awake by way of head trauma every day.

He grabbed his favourite box of off brand cornflakes from the shelf and pulled out whatever change he had in his pocket for the cashier. He left the corner shop holding the box loosely by his side and with a mild feeling of productivity.

That wasn’t something he found every day.

The streets leading back to Byakuya’s were as abandoned as the train station had been and aside from the distant honking of horns the only real sounds were his footsteps and the rustling of the box as it bounced against his thigh.

As he climbed the stairs to his front door, the porch light flickered on, welcoming him back. Before abruptly sputtering out as he pushed the key into the lock.

He’d have to fix that, he supposed.

He stared at it.

It could wait.

“I’m home,” he called into the empty house.

He received no reply.

Senku kicked the door shut behind him and hit the light switch, watching the old wall lights blink on with a dull hum. He threw his wallet onto the table by the door, next to where Byakuya usually left his keys, and put the box of cornflakes in the cupboard.

His stomach grumbled then, loudly, which was unsurprising considering his lunch had consisted of black coffee and half a slice of cake. He poked about the fridge and found little in the way of leftovers. In the way of anything really, not even plain rice. He grabbed a packet of instant ramen and threw it into the microwave.

It tasted cheap, but he hadn’t expected much more than that.

He was tempted to stay up and channel surf for a while, but was stayed by the idea of his father returning home in the meantime. He didn’t feel like talking to him just then. Although, they didn’t seem to talk to each other much anyway.

Without bothering to clean the dishes, they could wait until morning, Senku showered and got ready for bed, throwing his clothes into the overflowing laundry basket before climbing under the covers.

As he lay down to sleep, turning off the last light in the house, the familiar feeling of emptiness returned to settle in the pit of his stomach.

At least it never kept him awake anymore.

Gen’s day was an absolute nightmare.

Ryusui had been dragging Gen around to his heart’s content since they were still children. Once upon a time he’d considered it endearing, and on a level, he still did, but as he’d settled into the misery of what was now his day-to-day life, he’d grown to resent it. The way that Ryusui would show up without warning, kicking his front door down and strong-arming him into whatever bullshit he desired that day, put him on edge.

Gen may have had a poker face like no other, but it still required effort to put on and maintain, and it was exhausting to never know when he needed it. Even when Ryusui wasn’t around, even if he was halfway around the globe, the minute chance that he could appear without warning left him unable to relax.

The guard may never come down, but at least it was perfected. Gen smiled through the day, as Ryusui pulled him this way and that, leading him and Ukyo about the city, into stores from high end boutiques to tourist trap knick-knack stores, through the park and up to every food stand that caught his eye.

Gen smiled through playing as Ryusui’s dress-up doll, he smiled through having a mountain of things he didn’t want thrust upon him, he smiled through stuffing food he couldn’t bear to eat down his gullet.

Gen smiled each time he saw Ryusui slip his hand into Ukyo’s pocket, every time they fed each other over lunch, every time they shared secret looks and whispered to each other so he couldn’t hear.

It took every ounce of his strength to stomach it all though the pervading nausea that ate away at him as the day dragged on, but he did it.

Gen smiled.

Anything for them.

Or maybe… almost anything.

Night had long fallen as they stood by the road, illuminated only by the spotlight of the streetlamp above them, waiting for the car Ryusui had called. It was a quiet street, only the occasional car passing every thirty seconds or so. The sounds of Ryusui and Ukyo’s excited voices echoed against the brick and concrete surrounding them, towering high and boxing them in.

Gen breathed on his hands, stained pink with cold and rubbed them together, trying to ignore the urge to curl up and shut down. He was doing this for them, for the last time they’d see him in months. Just one last night, just a few more hours and he’d be free.

The only thing between him and freedom would be a single night’s sleep.

Just a few hours.

A few hours of talking to people he didn’t know, pretending to be fine, all the while being flanked by the living reminders of why he could never be happy.

It was dark. Very dark. If he slipped out from under the spotlight, he knew he’d be hard to see.

The car pulled up then, black and sleek as it glided across the road. It came to a stop in front of them and the driver ran the front window down to say something to Ryusui.

He could just make out a small alley behind him. It was close, and it looked like it led onto the next road over.

Ryusui opened the car door with a quiet clunk and held his hand out to help Ukyo inside. He was helping Ukyo and not looking at him. Neither of them was.

Gen’s feet were moving before he was even aware of it.

He sprinted down the alleyway, feet rapidly beating against the concrete as he ducked out of sight and onto the next street.

It wasn’t long before he heard confused voices calling his name. Even from this distance he could make out the panic.

He didn’t stop.

He ran faster.

It was disgusting just how liberating it felt.

The chilly December wind bit at his face as he ran until his nose was raw and running. His dress shoes hit the ground underfoot hard with their thin soles and Gen felt every pebble and speck of gravel he stood on. It wasn’t long until his muscles were screaming at him in pain and his throat was scored like sandpaper.

And he savoured every second of it.

He was alone. He didn’t need to worry about where Ryusui was, Gen didn’t even know where he was himself. He didn’t need to plan out every step, every move he made to make sure his secrets stayed as secrets. He didn’t need to because he didn’t have to care out here.

Out here, the only person he had to make happy was himself.

He eventually wound down, slumping against the nearest wall, breaths coming in harsh pants that tore up and down his windpipe.

He couldn’t say that this made him happy, though.

Gen was racked with guilt. He’d left without any warning, taken off when they thought nothing was wrong. They’d been excited, looking forward to that party for weeks, and he’d just left them dry, probably hurt, confused and worried.

But the feeling of the cold winter air entering his lungs that much easier made it worth it.

He pushed himself and continued to walk. He had no idea how long he walked, wandering around without aim, ducking into random alleys and car-infested avenues.

He didn’t stop until he ended up somewhere he recognised.

The park was almost entirely abandoned at this hour. The grassy banks were devoid of people and animals alike, the only facsimile of life the festive lights hanging above his head, lighting the path with a multicoloured glow that seemed to envelope and welcome him. When had he last taken the time to look at Christmas lights? When was the last time he did it because he wanted to?

Gen sat down on the nearest bench and pulled out his phone. It had been buzzing and ringing nonstop since he’d left. Even now it was pinging from new messages from Ryusui and Ukyo. Even his manager. She was going to be livid.

Shoving it back into his pocket, he leaned back until his head hit the bench behind him.

He took a deep breath.

He could smell the grass.

If he tried, he could hear the river.

He ran his bare hands over the cold metal bench beneath him, relishing in the way it drained the heat from his palms.

How long had it been since he’d done this? Anything like this? How long had it been since he’d last let his mind rest and appreciate what was going on outside of it? When was the last time he’d done something without obsessing over the consequences?

Too long.

Far too long.

Gen could have sat there all night, he almost nodded off at one point, but he had a flight in the morning. He had to go home at some point.

He hauled himself to his feet and started the trek back to his apartment in blissful silence. Maybe he should have been shrinking away from passing cars, worrying about whether Ryusui had someone looking for him, tracing the roads for him. But he didn’t. For once, he didn’t worry about it.

He didn’t worry about passing people, in case they were in on the search. He didn’t worry about the loud voices that raised each time he passed too close to a crowded space. He didn’t even flinch when he heard the sound of a helicopter overhead, despite knowing that searching for him by helicopter was very much something Ryusui would do.

He was too content under the safety of the darkness, of the anonymity the night provided.

At least, he was until he turned onto his street.

Gen looked up at the building and gulped.

Would someone be waiting for him inside? What was he going to say to them? He might be able to deal with it if it was his manager, but the other two…

He sidled up to the door and peered through the glass to see who was in the building lobby.

No one.

The place was dark and deserted. The lights only came on if someone entered, so in hindsight Gen should have already known no one was in there.

His pulse didn’t slow down as he entered though, the lights flickering on as he walked in. While the lobby was empty, he knew there was no guarantee his apartment would be the same. He hit the button to call the elevator and jumped when one of them immediately pinged and opened.

What was he going to do if someone was in there? If Ukyo or Ryusui were there? He wouldn’t know what to say. Gen could just imagine the looks on their faces, the disappointment, and thinking about it made him feel sick.

Would he have to tell them the truth? Maybe. This wasn’t behaviour he could brush off the way he had everything else. It would certainly make things easier to tell them, but if that was Gen’s biggest concern, he wouldn’t have a problem in the first place.

It had been far too long to simply tell them anyway. How do you casually tell your friend you’ve been in love with him for years? When he already has someone else in his life? Someone who is a close friend of yours?

You don’t tell him. If you did, he would hate you. They both would.

Then what was he supposed to do? He wished he could just tell them to leave, that he didn’t want to see them. Could he do that?

The elevator opened out onto his floor before he could answer that and he was forced out into the hallway. His footsteps against the polished wood echoed off of the walls and only served to further frazzle his nerves.

He needed some kind of plan. Anything would do as long it meant they’d leave him alone.

When Gen came face to face with his front door, worry blossomed into panic. The best solution he’d come to was to tell the people he cared about more than anyone else in the world to fuck off.

Gen ran his hands through his hair, gripping tightly until his scalp started to hurt from the strain.

No. No, he was overreacting. They wouldn’t take it that way, of course they wouldn’t. Ukyo wouldn’t at least, he’d understand that Gen was tired and needed to be alone. He definitely wouldn’t be impressed by Gen’s disappearing act, but he’d at least wait until Gen was ready to talk about it.

Right?

All Gen could do was hope he was right as he reached for his key and threw the door open.

The lights were off.

He looked around for the glow of a phone screen or a dark silhouette on the couch. When he didn’t see anything, he turned the lights on.

Empty.

The bedroom was empty too, as was the bathroom. The whole place was empty.

He could have cried.

After locking up, Gen crawled into bed and revelled in the feeling of cold sheets against his face.

The day was over.

Finally.

He was out cold in seconds. 

Chapter Text

“Argh, fuck.”

Senku yelled out as he crashed to the floor, head smashing into the side of his nightstand. The digital clock sat on top clattered down next to him and skittered across the wood.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his head.

What were the odds of that happening twice in a row? Years without incident and now it was becoming a habit.

Already in a sour mood, Senku picked the clock up and dropped it back onto the nightstand, not bothering to fix it. He needed caffeine and he needed it now.

Senku pulled on his ratty sweatpants hanging over the desk chair and…

He stopped mid-action to stare suspiciously at the cloth in his hands. He knew he’d put them in the laundry before going to bed. He glanced over to his basket to see not only the sweatpants missing, but also the rest of his clothes, including… He looked down at himself to see a different shirt from the one he’d gone to bed in.

Sighing, Senku ignored it and put the sweatpants on.

It was too early for this.

He scooped his phone up from next to the broken clock and made his way into the kitchen, where he could already hear the radio crackling.

Was Byakuya already awake? On a Saturday?

Scrunching his face up, Senku turned into the kitchen to indeed find his father sitting at the table, nose pressed to his phone and… dressed for work? Senku opened his mouth to comment, but then he saw the giant bowl of cornflakes.

“Can you get your own cereal instead of insisting on stealing mine?” he said crossing his arms.

Byakuya looked up and at least had enough sense to look sheepish about it. “I didn’t feel like going to the effort.”

“Evidently.”

Senku spared a glance to the radio as he entered the kitchen proper. The anchor was prattling on about Christmas sales again; was there really nothing more interesting going on in the world than commercialism?

“I heard a crash, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Senku said. Spotting the cereal box on the counter, he moved to grab a clean bowl.

“You sure? You seem grumpier than usual.”

“I’m fine,” Senku said, rolling his eyes.

He picked up the cereal and… he frowned.

Senku peered inside.

Either his father had eaten an entire box of cornflakes or Senku was going insane.

“How much cereal did you eat, old man?”

“There was only enough left for one bowl.”

Senku turned around and scoffed. “One bowl my ass, the box was new.”

Byakuya frowned, putting down his phone. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, it was. I picked up a new one on the way back from seeing Taiju and Yuzuriha yesterday.”

“You saw Taiju and Yuzuriha yesterday?”

Was Byakuya finally going senile? It would explain why he was up and ready for work on the weekend but… Then Senku remembered his clothes. And the radio.

On a hunch, he glanced into the sink to find it devoid of the dishes he’d left there the previous night. He then pulled open the cupboard to find the packet of instant ramen he’d eaten still sitting there.

Okay, maybe Senku was going crazy.

Thinking about it, Senku pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He was expecting a barrage of texts and missed calls from Taiju with a running commentary about the trip but…

Nothing.

He finally looked at the date.

“Um, Byakuya,” Senku said. “What day is it?”

Byakuya was starting to look concerned now. “It’s Friday… why? Senku, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I… No. I don’t think I am.”

Suddenly there was a clicking and the front door opened.

“Good morning,” Lillian called cheerfully. She looked just as she had yesterday. Or, maybe not yesterday?

Senku groaned and ran his hands down his face before stalking out of the kitchen. He didn’t need that on top of everything else.

He could hear the confused conversation between Byakuya and Lillian from his bedroom but he ignored it. His attention was better served elsewhere, namely with what the hell was going on.

He chased his thoughts round in circles, trying to dredge up some reasonable explanation for all of this, but nothing short of prophetic dreams and magical bullshit could explain it. This was clearly more than a simple case of déjà vu at the very least.

But, in the end, he had to give up.

He took a deep breath and convinced himself that he had to accept that something bizarre was going on and if he didn’t let it go, he would just end up angry and scared.

For the being, nothing he could come up with would be anything but speculation. He needed more evidence, and until he had it there was little he could do other than get on with his life as if everything was normal.

If it was still Friday, it only stood to reason that he also still had plans with Yuzuriha and Taiju. If it was at all as enjoyable as it had been in his head, then he supposed it was something to look forward to.

Senku once again stepped into the gaudy café, twinkling fairy lights flashing in his eyes and tinsel sparkling off of every surface. Or, perhaps he was walking in for the first time? He’d never been in here before, how did he know exactly how it was going to look?

“Oi, Senku! Over here!”

He looked up to see Taiju waving him over to the back, next to the same cheap, plastic Christmas tree he remembered. And even with the disorienting sense of déjà vu still plaguing him, seeing his friends managed to bring a sense of comfort.

“Are you alright, Senku?” Yuzuriha asked as he dropped into the seat across from her. “You seem a little distracted.”

Senku shook his head. “It’s nothing, just a had a strange morning.” He picked up the coffee he knew was for him, disregarding just how he knew it was for him, and took a sip. He’d forgotten to have his coffee that morning and the bitter taste was something else familiar in a way that didn’t make him uncomfortable.

“If you’re sure.” Yuzuriha shot him a concerned look but quickly changed the topic. “We were just talking about some of the last-minute things we need to pick up.”

Senku nodded. “Bug spray and stuff, right?” He leant back and wrapped his hands securely around the paper cup, appreciating the warmth pouring into his skin.

“Yeah, our can is low and I figured it would be better to get a new one just in case. Taiju also needs a new water bottle since he broke his, and I thought we could do with one of those things that stores charge for your phone.”

“And I wanted some new socks.”

“And Taiju wants some socks.”

Senku looked down at his coffee cup, noting the festive snowflakes adorning the red paper container. “Taiju, you know that Okinawa is subtropical, right?”

He looked up and saw Taiju staring at him with a gormless look plastered across his face.

Senku sighed. “That means it’s warm in the winter, too.”

Taiju gasped and turned to Yuzuriha. “Maybe I don’t need socks.”

Both her and Senku laughed.

Senku enjoyed spending time with Yuzuriha and Taiju again, even if it was strange to know everything that they were going to say before they did. The day passed in almost the exact same way it had before.

They completed Yuzuriha’s to-do list in under an hour, made even quicker with Senku already knowing where everything they needed was, and they spend the rest of their day aimlessly wandering up and down the high street.

Wasting time with his friends wasn’t something Senku would complain about having to repeat. If he was completely honest it was something he’d be quite happy to do again and again, although he figured it was best not to tempt fate by admitting it.

His friends were busy adults now, even if he wasn’t. They both had careers and paid for their own food and rent instead of leaching off their parents, and that took up time. They could only afford this trip because they’d been saving for it and cut all the corners they could when planning.

Unsurprisingly, being a functioning adult left less and less time for hanging out with friends.

Senku wasn’t bothered by it, they had lives to get on with and he was happy for them. The only thing that bothered him was that he wasn’t the same.  Either way, knowing how long it would be until he saw them again, Senku was glad for this extra time, even if it had been in his head.

When they eventually had to part again, Senku was left in the late-afternoon with nothing to do.

He didn’t fancy sitting in the park again, it had been boring and bitingly cold in his head, so he made his way home, disregarding the chance of Byakuya returning in the meantime. If he did, that was something Senku would deal with as it came.

The trains were less busy at this time, the rush hour only just getting underway, he even managed to nab a seat and had enough privacy that he could scroll through his phone.

When he reached his stop and saw the corner store, he considered grabbing a new box of cornflakes. He still didn’t have any after all, but the idea of having to interact with the cashier, of having to brave the gaggle of teens currently loitering around the entrance, when his brain had been running on overdrive all day was just too much.

He wanted to go home and pass out. The cereal could wait.

The streets were livelier at this time, school kids were making their way home or mucking about with their friends while there was still a bit of sunlight left. It was certainly more pleasant walking by natural light instead of streetlamps.

By the time he reached his door though, the sun had just about given out and it was dark enough that the porch light decided it should blink on… and then promptly die out. Again.

Senku stood with his hand on the door handle for a moment, frowning at the porch light.

Something had to change.

He pushed the door open and made a beeline for the supply cupboard, grabbing a lightbulb and setting about fixing it. It took no more than five minutes but it was something new, something that didn’t come with the unsettling familiarity everything else had that day.

The house was empty, again, and there still wasn’t any food.

His stomach growled in protest but Senku ignored it, flopping onto the sofa and staring at the ceiling. At some point he turned on the television on and starting flicking through his phone, but nothing grabbed his attention.

As the clock advanced and everything failed to keep him occupied, Senku could feel the itch of boredom and the threat of his wandering thoughts.

He ended up throwing the towel in early, glad for the excuse to further avoid Byakuya, not wanting to explain his behaviour that morning when he came home. Senku still didn’t understand it himself, but he’d calmed down enough by that point to be able to brush it off.

Well, almost.

After showering and settling in for bed, Senku had a thought. He felt paranoid, but it couldn’t hurt to be certain.

He looked over his desk and picked out a pencil. It was blue and had the logo of his university printed on the side. It was the only one of that kind he owned and it would be impossible to replace overnight.

After a moment, Senku snapped it in half.

He laid the two pieces on the desk and stared at them.

He was being illogical, a test like this was hardly necessary for a little case of déjà vu. But still…

It would be nice to have a little insurance.

With that, Senku finally went to sleep.

“Argh, fuck.”

Senku yelled out as he crashed to the floor, head smashing into the side of his nightstand. The digital clock sat on top clattered down next to him and skittered across the wood.

He groaned and but didn’t get up from the floor.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself.

After a moment he sat up, the throbbing in the back of his skull worsening in protest, and looked over to where he’d left the pencil.

It wasn’t there.

He hauled himself to his feet and moved to stand dumbfounded in front of his desk.

Sitting in the pencil pot was the pencil, still whole and mocking him.

Senku didn’t believe in magic or miracles or curses or whatever, but even he couldn’t deny this.

It would seem that somehow, against all common sense, he was stuck in a time loop.

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine!”

Gen winced at the sudden brightness as Ryusui pulled the blinds open, groaning and rolling away.

“Too early…” he mumbled, pulling the covers over his head. It was always too early, no matter how early he went to sleep.

“Come on, Gen.” Right on cue, Ryusui was pulling at the duvet. Gen held on tight and curled up into it, determined to hang onto the comforting warmth for a little longer. One of these days he’d figure out how to get Ryusui to give him five more minutes.

Then again, he’d been saying that for almost two decades now.

“We have so much to do,” Ryusui was still going on, finally ripping the duvet out of Gen’s grip. “And it’s entirely your fault, so you have no right to complain.”

Pouting, Gen scrambled up and snatched a pillow to cover his bare legs. His neuroticism was nothing in the face of knowing everything Ryusui was going to do. “Excuse you, but I’ll bitch about whatever I damn like.”

Ryusui laughed and leant forward to lean on the mattress, pushing his face far too close to Gen’s for comfort. “Then I’ll just have to ignore it.”

Gen’s throat ran dry. “The same way I ignore every other thing you say?”

Ryusui beamed and Gen swallowed thickly. “Exactly!”

Gen was left fighting down a ferocious blush as Ryusui pushed back off the bed and made his way over to the dresser. It wasn’t fair, if he didn’t know Ryusui as well as he did, Gen would swear the man was torturing him on purpose.

But he did.

That was the problem.

And it made what had to come next all the more painful.

“Um, actually, Ryu,” he started, reluctantly putting the pillow aside and getting to his feet. “About today…”

Ryusui didn’t turn around but hummed to indicate that he was listening.

Gen took a deep breath. “I got a call from my manager last night.”

Ryusui’s rummaging abruptly stopped. He turned around and the strained smile on his face told Gen that he already knew what was coming. “That so?”

Gen nodded. “Y-yeah.”

God, this never got any easier.

“Apparently there’s been a problem with transporting some of the equipment. I have to rework to the show to work without it and… well, we need to get it done as soon as we can. The first show’s only in a couple of days.”

As Ryusui’s smiled softened, resigned, Gen could feel the guilt claw up his spine.

“Will you at least be able to make it tonight?”

He shrugged. “No clue. Probably not.”

Ryusui nodded and sighed, pushing the drawer behind him shut.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be.” Even now through the disappointment Ryusui was trying to be understanding. “It’s not your fault.”

“I was really looking forward to hanging out,” Gen said, shuffling in place, unsure of what to do with his hands. “It’s just… this is really important.”

“It’s fine, really.” Ryusui smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It can’t be helped.”

It could be helped. Gen could just stop being such an awful person and put up with it. But he didn’t know how long it would be until he broke if he did.

He really doesn’t deserve a friend like Ryusui.

And Ryusui deserves so much more than Gen can give.

“I still have breakfast,” Gen said in a rush, his resolve breaking. “I mean… we can hang out his morning. At least for a little while.”

“Yeah?”

It was silly. Come morning Ryusui wouldn’t remember having been let down in the first place but still, Gen just couldn’t stand that this was his fault.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The way Ryusui perked up was more than worth it.

“Well, if that’s all we’ve got we’ll have to make the most of this.” He planted his hands on his hips and a determined smile plastered itself across his face. “And it’s a good job. Ukyo’s cooking as we speak and we wouldn’t want to miss that.”

Gen chuckled. “Not for the world.”

“Don’t forget to take regular breaks. And you have to feed yourself or I’ll come back and personally shove it down your throat. And since you can’t make the party anyway, try to get a good night’s-”

“I get it, I get it.” Gen rolled his eyes. “I can look after myself.”

Ryusui raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you can.”

Gen looked to Ukyo for help but was met with little more than placid smile which suggested he more than agreed with the sentiment.

“You guys are the worst.”

“I’m being serious,” Ryusui said, sounding a lot like a stern school teacher. “Your work is important but there can’t be a tour if there’s no you to go on it.”

Gen huffed. It wasn’t like he was going to get himself killed. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway, there was a large part of him that believed this whole mess couldn’t be ended even by death itself.

“If you don’t leave now, I’ll make myself collapse on purpose.”

Ukyo laughed and finally started to wave Ryusui in the direction of the elevator. “Remember to call us once you reach the airport.”

“And text me as you leave!” Ryusui called down the hall.

Gen laughed and just waved until he thought they were far enough away that he could close the door without appearing rude.

He clicked it shut and, just for good measure, Gen locked it. He promptly stepped over to the couch and collapsed into it face first, feeling every ounce of stress seep out of him.

Freedom.

The apartment was silent and empty, free from people to watch him, free of expectations to meet and exceed, free of the need to act normal, like everything was fine.

He loved his friends more than he could properly express, but now that he was free of them for the whole day, Gen couldn’t help the small smile that rose to his face. The same way it did every time he kicked them out.

His phone buzzed.

Gen picked it up and scowled.

A minute. Sixty seconds and Ryusui was already texting him.

Gen threw his phone across the room and pushed himself upright. He wasn’t going to let Ryusui ruin this day of freedom just as he hadn’t let him ruin the rest of them.

Sure, being stuck in a time loop, replaying the same nightmare of a day with a perfect tomorrow which never came, absolutely sucked. But Gen was determined to make the most of it.

As he left to get dressed Gen could hear his phone buzzing twice more from where it had fallen against the wall.

Gen had quickly lost count of how many times he’d relived this day. It had to be at least two weeks, maybe even three. It might have been disorienting if Gen wasn’t enjoying himself so much.

He spent the morning rolling about his couch, doing a lot of nothing and revelling in every second of it. Eventually he picked up his phone and, after sending a quick placating text to Ryusui, he bought a train ticket, grabbed a hat, coat and mask, and left the house. But not before another five texts came through in response.

The train carried him out of the city, the buildings decreasing in size like the world’s most unnecessary staircase and the expanses beyond the windows shifted from greys and browns into lush greens.

How long had it been since he’d done something like this? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been outside of Tokyo for anything other than business.

His train pulled into the small station a little after noon. The town was quaint and small but with Christmas around the corner their local market was in full festive swing; no doubt a tourism gimmick but charming nonetheless.

Gen took his time admiring the different stalls filled with trinkets and food. He wandered through decoration displays, equal parts beautiful and tacky even without the lights on.

It grew far more crowded once the schools let out, but Gen found himself enjoying the atmosphere despite it. There was a part of Christmas reserved for the joy of children, and even though Gen had little patience for it he could still appreciate its existence.

He even had a turn in a pop-up ice rink in the middle of the local park. Gen had gone ice skating a lot when he was younger; he was never good at it but it was something his family always did together and so it was special.

He had fun.

Until all of this happened it had been so long since he’d had fun. He did this sort of stuff all the time, he’d been to the Christmas markets and displays a number of times this year alone, but he’d gone with Ryusui and Ukyo. With them, more time was spent keeping face than enjoying himself.

When Gen stepped off of the rink, face flushed pink from the cold and exercise, he realised that it was probably time for him to head home. If he left it too much longer, he’d be stuck on an overcrowded train.

But he figured there was enough time to grab a hot chocolate, at least.

He pulled on his shoes and waited in the line for the rink's small cafe, readjusting his face mask and making sure his hair wasn’t too noticeable under his hat. Even if getting recognised didn’t matter, Gen still preferred to cover up when he went out. How was he supposed to enjoy some alone time if fans were constantly approaching him? There was a time and a place for that sort of thing, and this private pocket dimension for running away from his problems was neither.

“Oh, shit.”

Gen looked up to see the young woman standing in line in front of him digging through her purse.

“Are you sure you can’t take a card? I don’t have enough.”

“I’m sorry Miss but we can’t accept a card for orders under a thousand yen.”

She had three drinks and every coin she had spread over the counter. No wonder this was taking a while.

Gen was getting a little impatient, and the girl was rather cute, so he pulled out his wallet and took out a bill, handing it to the cashier.

“Here.”

The woman looked up at him, startled. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gen said, moving on to pay for his own drink. “I was getting thirsty. And besides…” He pulled down his mask to smile at her. “There’s never any harm in helping someone out. Especially someone as lovely yourself.”

Gen worried for a moment that he’d gone too far, he didn’t flirt very often, or at least he didn’t try to, and he didn’t want to say anything to make her uncomfortable. But from the way she blushed and looked down bashfully at her hands Gen figured that he was in the clear.

“Well, thank you. I’m sorry for holding you up.”

“Not at all.” Gen shook his head and accepted his own drink from the barista. “Do you need a hand there?” he asked, gesturing to the third drink. She would at least need help carrying it over to the stack of trays a few feet away.

“Oh, if you don’t mind.”

Gen picked up the third cup and set it down next to the drinks station with rows of sugar packets, milk and napkins. He grabbed a tray and set it down for her. “There we go.”

“Thank you so much. I wish I could pay you back.”

“Really, don’t think anything of it. It’s not money I’m going to miss.” Literally, give it a few hours and that bill will be right back in his pocket.

“No, I mean it I-” She paused, apparently getting an idea. She patted down her pockets and pulled out a pen to scribble something down on a napkin. “Here. Text me later and I can refund you then.”

Gen accepted the napkin, which had a phone number written on it in pretty handwriting. This one was smoother than she looked.

He laughed and nodded. “Sure thing. I look forward to it.”

She smiled and waved goodbye before picking up the tray and running over to join her friends at a booth in the corner.

Then he felt his phone buzz in his pocket again.

Ryusui.

Gen’s relaxed smile fell from his face and the guilt returned once again.

What was he doing? Who was he kidding with all of this shit? He was running away, looking at pretty things and doing mindless activities to keep himself distracted.

Gen sighed.

Not seeing any point in hanging around, Gen shoved the napkin in his pocket and left, making for the train station.

The napkin fell out of his pocket when he got home and pulled out his phone to finally return the dozens of texts Ryusui had sent him throughout the day. Gen picked it up from the floor and stared at the neatly written digits. He grimaced before opening the bin and dropping it in.

Even if something could have happened, even if he could turn to someone else content with the knowledge that he’d never be able to give them everything he gave to Ryusui, there wouldn’t be a point. She’ll just forget him in the morning.

Gen crawled into bed without eating and stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom. As he eventually drifted off to sleep, it was with the knowledge that he would be running away again tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Senku had smashed his head into his nightstand that morning for the thirty-seventh time. He’d been trapped in this irritating time loop for just over a month and still he couldn’t make any headway with it.

It was ridiculous. How was there nothing in the known scientific world that could explain this?

Time loops were a fiction trope, something you found in movies starring ghostbusters and trashy science-fiction novels that didn’t understand what it was they were trying to work with. Senku knew this, he didn’t believe in this kind of… magical bullshit.

At least, he wouldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t experiencing it first-hand.

He’d, of course, already tried contacting established theoretical physicists about it but they either didn’t respond, likely thinking he was wasting their time, or spouting back everything he already knew.

Senku wasn’t a plebeian, he knew about relativity and space time and the theories of wormholes, but none of that seemed applicable to his predicament. Einstein’s theory of relativity posited that time travel, while theoretically possible, only happened in one direction, forward, and was, unsurprisingly, relative to the subject. It didn’t explain how everyone around him seemed to forget everything that had happened up to this point.

Wormholes were largely science fiction in their own right and Senku had written them off almost as soon as he started. If a wormhole were responsible for this, Senku would be aware of it, and would also have already caused the planet, and probably the whole solar system, to implode into a black hole.

So yes, unlikely.

Those had been his first considerations, and also happened to be the only relevant research he’d conducted in the past month. Everything else led to conspiracy theory crackpots or sci-fi nuts or straight up movie discussions. He had taken the time to read through them anyway, he was desperate after all, but in the end, they were about as useful as he had anticipated

Still, Senku visited the library every day to scour all the theoretical physics material they had, even if he’d already read it in the past. He also scrolled meticulously through their internet archives for whatever showed even a glimmer of being useful. He was sorely missing the library of his old university, but that ship had sailed half a year ago.

However, while his research proved to be fruitless, it shone a light on something else that Senku hadn’t expected. Because as frustrating as all of this was, putting in so much effort with nothing to show for it, Senku hadn’t enjoyed himself this much since before his degree ended.

It was a breath of fresh air, having something to work on. He’d missed this feeling more than he realised. This time loop may have been shitty, but it had somehow managed to give him a much-needed kick up the arse.

He wanted to work. He wanted to get back into a lab, he wanted to conduct experiments again, explore hypotheses and prove his own theories.

Once upon a time, he’d wanted to turn the world of science on its head. And now, finally, he had the drive to do so again.

But, to do that, he had to get out of this god forsaken time loop. It didn’t matter what he did, none of it would stick. You can’t change the world if the world doesn’t remember it.

He stared at the words on the monitor in front of him. They meant nothing. They were doing nothing. He still hadn’t even figured out why he was going through this in the first place. Would he ever? There was a large part of him that doubted he would.

He slammed his head into the desk and screamed in frustration.

A minute later he heard a tentative knock at his bedroom door before it creaked open.

Senku sat up and turned to face Byakuya, poking his head in.

“Are you all right?” He asked, brow furrowed. “That’s the second time this morning I’ve heard a thump followed by you yelling.”

Senku shook his head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

Byakuya ignored him, he knew his son well enough to know when he most definitely wasn’t fine, and entered the room. He moved to stand behind Senku and placed his hands on the back of the desk chair.

“Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing.”

“Ooo,” Byakuya exclaimed, leaning over Senku’s shoulder to get a better look. “Time dilation! This stuff’s fun. Are you doing research? Have you got a new project?” His eyes had lit up and his grip was tight enough on the chair that Senku could feel Byakuya’s knuckles poke into his back.

“I said it’s nothing.”

“Nothing schmothing, this is the first time I’ve seen you researching in months. Tell me about it.”

Senku sighed. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Oh, the kids can wait ten minutes. This is far more important.”

“That’s not very responsible of you.”

“Maybe not as a professor, but I think it is as a father.”

“What about as a fiancée?” Senku shot back. “Isn’t Lillian waiting for you?” Senku didn’t mean for that to come out quite as snappy as it had.

“She’ll be okay with-”

“Really, Byakuya.” Senku turned his chair around. “You can just go. I’ve got to go meet Taiju and Yuzuriha soon anyway.”

Byakuya’s smile didn’t drop entirely, but it dropped to a point where Senku might have called it forced. “Okay, if you say so… I hope you have a good day.” Byakuya ruffled Senku’s hair before he left.

A few minutes later, Senku heard the front door open and shut.

Why did Byakuya always have to be so nosy?

Senku understood that it was probably born from worry, he knew his behaviour had been troubling, but it was still a little irritating. Maybe if it was anything else he’d be willing to share, but this? This wasn’t something he could talk to Byakuya about, it was pure lunacy. And besides, he and Byakuya didn’t have that kind of relationship.

At least, they didn’t anymore.

He took another look at his computer monitor before shutting it down and getting up. He did need to go see Taiju and Yuzuriha at some point, and he wanted to stop by the library first.

Then, as Senku was pulling on a coat, it occurred to him that, while he would never consider confiding in Byakuya about all of this, he didn’t see the problem in talking to those two about it.

Their faith in him was so unshakable that they wouldn’t think he was joking. Or at least Taiju wouldn’t. If something was bothering him, Senku could always trust them to take him seriously when no one else would.

Maybe he should…

After dropping by the library, Senku made his way to the café he had agreed to meet Taiju and Yuzuriha at. The lunch rush was predictably in full swing when Senku arrived.

It had been this way everyday thus far; it would be a shock if it had changed.

At one of the tables, right at the back of the room, next to a cheap looking Christmas tree, Senku saw his friends sitting side by side in a booth, food and drinks already ordered and started on. Once Taiju noticed he was there, he stood up and loudly waved him over, a giant smile on his face.

“Yo, Senku,” he greeted as Senku approached. “I was worried you wouldn’t show.”

Senku ignored him and sat down.

“Are you okay, Senku?” Yuzuriha asked. “We got you coffee, will that help? It usually solves your problems.”

Senku sighed but couldn’t stop the small smile that pulled at his lips. “If only it would fix this one.” He picked up the red paper cup and took a large gulp. “But yeah, I’m not okay.”

“What’s up?” Taiju leant forward, face pulled down in a grave frown. While Senku considered it a very apt mood for his situation, the way Taiju’s angry face made him look like an ape made it impossible for Senku to take him seriously.

“Is it anything we can help with?” Yuzuriha added, leaning forward too.

After looking between the two for a moment, Senku took a deep breath and placed his hands flat on the table.

“This is going to make me sound insane, but I need you two to promise that you’ll take me seriously on this. Okay?”

They both nodded.

Senku looked down at his hands before biting the bullet.

“I think I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Nothing was said for a moment, only the general chatter in the café filling the silence.

And then Taiju spoke.

“You mean… like Groundhog Day?”

Senku ran his hand down his face. “Yes, Taiju. Exactly like the movie Groundhog Day.”

Taiju’s face lit up. “That is so cool.”

“No, Taiju. I assure you, it’s very annoying and existentially terrifying.”

Yuzuriha shook her head and did her best to speak over Taiju’s incoherent ramblings about American movies from the nineties. “Do you really mean that? You’ve been living this day on repeat for… however long?”

“It’s been just over five weeks.”

“Oh dear…” To her credit, Yuzuriha was doing her best to make it look like she didn’t think that Senku had finally lost his last marble.

“Look, I know it sounds insane, but I’m being completely serious. I… okay, I know exactly what you need to buy today. We buy it every goddamn day. You need bug spray; a water bottle, because Taiju broke his; a charging bank but you didn’t know the name of it until I just said it; and Taiju wants fluffy socks even though Okinawa is hot all year round.”

“Wait, it is?”

“Yes, Taiju. I’ve told you this twenty-five times. I gave up eventually. And then you need to go to the bank and finally to the train station to pick up your tickets.”

Yuzuriha gulped. “That is… a little uncanny.”

“Exactly. Look, I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to take me seriously.”

Yuzuriha sat up straighter in her seat and nodded her head. “Okay Senku, whatever you need. Tell me all about it.”

Senku explained everything that had happened and tried to walk them through as much of his research as he thought Yuzuriha could reasonably understand, he knew that Taiju’s mind would switch to white noise the second he mentioned dilation of time and relativity.

“Wait,” Taiju stopped him midway through a rant about conspiracy theories. “Do you come to lunch with us every day?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” Yuzuriha looked stunned. “Why would you waste your time with us when you could use it to do research?”

Senku clamped his mouth shut and averted his eyes. This would be… a little embarrassing to say aloud. At the very least he could be confident they wouldn’t remember it come morning.

“Well… I don’t want to risk ditching you guys on the day it matters, y’know?” Senku shrugged. “I’m not going to see you until autumn, that’s a long time. And I don’t want you thinking I didn’t want to see you before you left if by some chance tomorrow did come.”

It required a lot of effort to ignore the sappy looks he was receiving.

“Also, if this happened to be operating via the theory of the multiverse, it’s possible that a version of me carries on into the next day with you, and it’s just my current consciousness that transferred to a parallel dimension. It may seem far-fetched but so is time travel, and I seem to be pulling that off with ease.”

Taiju looked rather non-plussed but Yuzuriha had apparently followed. “That’s really sweet. I kinda wish I remembered all that extra time we spent together; it must have been fun.”

“It was repetitive.”

“Well, yeah but we don’t get to spend much time together anymore. I wouldn’t mind if it was repetitive as long as it was the three of us, you know? It’s going to be so strange going on this trip and not getting to see you for so long.”

“Yeah. It’s a total bummer.” Taiju agreed, looking as if he might burst into tears. “There’s just no time anymore. Hey, maybe this is a blessing? Making up for all our lost time.”

Senku rolled his eyes. “I guess, but I’d feel bad if I prevented you from going on your Soulmate trip thing because I was stuck like this forever. Actually, I’d feel bad for a lot of other reasons but that wouldn’t hel-”

“Wait, Senku!” Yuzuriha interrupted, slamming her hand on the table to get his attention. “What if it’s that?”

“What if it’s what?”

“What if it’s a Soulmate thing?”

“Soulmates?”

Yuzuriha nodded enthusiastically. “You say that science can’t explain this, but don’t Soulmates go against all rules of science?”

When Senku didn’t answer immediately, staring at Yuzuriha dumbstruck, she drew back and sheepishly fidgeted with her hands. “I mean, it was just a suggestion. I know our bond mark often feels inexplicable. The fact that I can’t say certain things to Taiju… I just don’t think I could ever explain it.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. If I ever try it’s like some… magical force stops my mouth from working,” Taiju added. Then he stopped and grew very excited. “Senku, do you have a Soulmate? Senku has a Soulmate!”

Senku still just blinked.

He was floored that in all of his research, he hadn’t for a second considered a bond mark, the one thing that seemed to defy all logic and reason, as the culprit. He supposed it was mostly because the idea of himself having a Soulmate was so bizarre in the first place.

For people like Taiju and Yuzuriha, Soulmates just made sense. They were people who paid more attention to life, to actively living, to being together. They were the sort of people magical things happened to. But Senku? Senku was the last person you would expect to have a Soulmate. In fact, Senku had all but resigned himself to a life altogether absent of romantic attachment. He was the sort to be married to his work (when he was actually doing it), the life he wanted to lead left no room for a Soulmate.

But maybe, by throwing him into an inescapable time loop, the universe was trying to tell him to make room?

Either way, the thing that concerned him most was how Yuzuriha came up with this in just a few minutes where he’d spent five weeks researching and hadn’t so much as considered it?

He blamed the head trauma.

“I think you’re right… At least, I hope you are. It would make everything much less complicated.”

“Yeah, and it probably means that, to get out of the time loop, you just have to meet your Soulmate, right?” Yuzuriha said.

“Right,” Senku agreed. “Although it would probably be something a little more involved than simply meeting them, then there would be no way for me to know who they are. From what little I understand, bond marks are specifically crafted for people to find each other and stay together.”

He looked up for confirmation and saw only the glint in Yuzuriha’s eye. Taiju was unabashedly happy for him, having a Soulmate was incredible news for anyone, but he could practically see the plans Yuzuriha was drawing up for his wedding in the way she was looking at him.

It was a little unnerving.

But if they were right about this, then he was finally a step closer to fixing this whole thing.

He just wanted out, and if finding his Soulmate was the way to do it, Senku would take it.

Chapter Text

Gen pushed little chunks of cooked egg around his plate. He pushed down on them with his fork and watched as soy sauce seeped out and oozed onto the plate.

He didn’t know what to do with his day.

Yet another day of freedom and Gen couldn’t decide what to do with it. There was so much he could do. There was that movie he’d been meaning to see; he’d considered seeing it a few times but never got around it. Then there was the café he found a little while ago, he wouldn’t mind giving that place a more genuine visit. He could always stay home, he enjoyed that as much as anything else, maybe he could buy a game and see how much of it he could get through before the clock ticked over.

He sighed. None of that felt right.

“Hey, Gen, are you alright?”

Gen looked up at the sound of Ukyo’s voice. His face was drawn in concern, brow knit together. Gen couldn’t stifle the thought that he didn’t deserve such concern before it crossed his mind.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it,” Ryusui added, expression matching Ukyo’s. Gen’s heart leapt at that but he didn’t let his face betray himself. “You’ve been staring at your plate mindlessly for the past ten minutes.”

Oh shit. Gen had thought they were so distracted by one another that they wouldn’t notice. That was usually how it went. They didn’t normally comment on this kind of behaviour. Was he being too loud? That was something he’d have to check in the future.

“I’m just…” He scrambled for an excuse. “I’m just down about not getting to hang out today. It’s four months after all, and I can’t even have this time with you, y’know?”

They both smiled wistfully.

“Yeah, it’s a shame. We’re really going to miss you.” Ukyo put down his fork and sat back in his chair. “Is there really no way to weasel out of it?”

Gen shook his head without hesitation. He didn’t have to give it a second thought, no way was he going to voluntarily subject himself to yet another day of the most stressful game of pretend he’s ever engaged in. He had freedom for the first time in years, he wasn’t about to squander it.

“Afraid not. The first show’s only in a couple of weeks, and we’ll need to complete and rehearse the changes in time.”

“I swear your job’s too demanding,” Ryusui complained, pouting. “You’re always busy with something or other. And half of the extra work is never your fault. It’s constantly getting in the way of our plans. I know you can’t help it, but it’s so frustrating.”

That gave Gen pause. He did use work as a way to wriggle out of plans pretty frequently, even outside of the time loop, he’d never deny that (at least to himself). But was he using it too much? If Ryusui was starting to question it… Was he getting suspicious? No. No, Ryusui was the sort of person who would just say if something was wrong.

“That’s the sacrifice I make for being a showman. Not all of us are born into money, Ryu, some of us have to work for it.”

“You know I’d finance you if you asked me to.”

Gen pointedly looked away. “Don’t be silly.” He could never ask something like that of Ryusui, it would be unforgivable. Besides, who did Ryusui think he was? Of course he’d rather work to earn his keep, even if he’d rather do the minimum of anything he didn’t enjoy.

“But it asks so much of you. And it makes you miserable.”

“What? No, it doesn’t.”

But before Ryusui could say anything further, Ukyo had viciously elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just projecting. Like a loudmouthed idiot.” Ukyo sighed and resumed eating his breakfast. “We both just feel that sometimes your manager asks too much of you. After a while it just stops being healthy.”

Gen looked between them, bewildered. Ukyo was staring at his plate and Ryusui was still nursing his ribs and his pride. Since when have they been hiding this from him? And what even is this? Is this really just a case of misplaced frustration? It didn’t seem like something Ryusui would do. Although, maybe Gen really had been playing the work card too much lately? At least enough for them to start actively blaming it for his absences.

That was something that he needed to fix.

Except, he couldn’t fix it, could he? Not unless he got out of this time loop…

Gen smiled and shook his head. “You two worry too much. I like my job; I wouldn’t keep at it if I didn’t. I don’t stick with anything if I don’t, you know that.”

Ryusui shot him a look he didn’t quite know how to read, but Gen brushed it off. He was in a time loop after all. He may not be able to fix this, but did that matter? The two of them would have no memory of this ever happening come morning.

“Seriously. Now come on, are we really going to spend what little time we have left sulking?”

Despite his words, the rest of breakfast was a little awkward. But it didn’t matter. At least, that’s what Gen told himself as he closed the door behind the two. It didn’t matter, he could redo that conversation as many times as he wanted. Tomorrow wouldn’t be like that. And if it was, that wouldn’t matter either.

It was truly liberating, not having to worry about picking up the pieces of a conversation gone wrong, about having to smooth over weird behaviour. He could fuck up all he wanted and who cared? By that logic, he could probably go as far as to tell them everything, just to see what would happen.

Gen winced.

No, there was no way he could do that.

It may not have mattered, but he was just too much of a coward for even that. He knew what their reactions would be, and even if they’d forget about it, he knew that he wouldn’t. He’d have to live the rest of his life with the image of their betrayal etched into his memory, and that wasn’t something he could handle.

Well, that was assuming he had the rest of his life to live.

No, no, Gen wasn’t going to think about that.

He needed something new, something to get his mind off of everything. Well, maybe not new, but a little different. At the very least he needed to do something. He needed to get away and clear his head, a change of scenery.

Gen leant against the kitchen countertop, thinking. Maybe he should go back to that Christmas market? He remembered the food being good, and there had been lots of stuff he didn’t get around to checking out. He had enjoyed that day, he knew that at least.

He was still for a little longer, weighing up his options, but eventually pulled out his phone and bought a ticket, once again ignoring the unread messages from Ryusui. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do.

The place was much as Gen remembered it. People were milling about, enjoying themselves. It was mostly very young children and adults, moving from stall to stall, from shop to shop, enjoying the decorations.

It was pretty, and cheerful, and Gen was relieved to find that he felt better walking around here than he had sat on his sofa at home. The air was a little cleaner, the faces less familiar, and it gave him a sense of forward motion, even if he’d done this all before.

There was a stand selling a range of handcrafted decorations, made of painted glass and Gen found himself in the mood to buy one. It was just a small rabbit on a string, but it was pretty. And while he knew that, come morning, it would be gone, it was still something he hadn’t done before. It was new, it was different, and the sheer sensation of doing something different was a nice one.

He walked away from the stall smiling, but it was quickly replaced by a frown as his phone buzzed once again.

He sighed and put the ornament into his pocket.

The schools were due to let out soon and Gen didn’t fancy being on the high-street when that happened. He made his way through town and into the park, where he could hear the screams of children and general chatter from the ice rink he’d visited previously.

A group of people were circling the ice happily, mostly families and couples. When he’d gone, there had been a lot of teenagers around which had made it more rowdy but also livelier. By contrast it was downright tranquil, but also less fun.

Gen didn’t fancy giving it a go this time. The physical activity was good for him, and would get his mind off of this whole mess, but he wasn’t too keen on getting sweaty. Instead, Gen found a nearby bench and sat down, alternating between scrolling through his phone and watching the skaters. His feed was exactly the same as it had been every other day but he did it out of habit.

It didn’t take long for Gen to get bored again, and when the teenagers began flooding the area, he decided it was time to leave. He readjusted his mask and stood up, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

But, as he took a step forward, someone ran into him.

They stumbled but Gen managed to gather his bearings in time to hold them steady.

“Hey, are you alright?”

The woman that had run into him panicked and looked up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Gen paused. He knew this person. This was the same person who gave him her number last time. He supposed she must be getting ready to join the queue to the ice rink.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He smiled easily. “Be a little more careful next time though, okay?”

“Thank goodness, I’m glad you’re okay. I-”

They both looked up at the sound of voices calling her over.

“I really have to go. Again, I’m really sorry about that.” She bowed briefly before running off to join her friends.

Gen watched them join the queue before he turned and left, a sour look pulling his face down. He’d met plenty of people for the first time again and again. He was used to not being recognised by people who he’d seen countless times since this started. So, why did it only bother him now?

Or maybe… that wasn’t what bothered him. He thought about how once she finished skating, she’d be back in that line to get cocoa for her friends and she wouldn’t have enough money. And this time, he wouldn’t be around to help her out. In fact, he’d only been there one time out of… however many by this point.

He’d tried to help and it had no effect.

He didn’t try to stifle the thoughts this time. As he walked back to the train station, he let them sit and fester.

Sure, it was great that his screw ups would have no consequence. He could mess up as much as he needed to get something right, but what about when he did get it right? He couldn’t change anything. He couldn’t fix anything. He couldn’t help. It didn’t matter what he did, nothing would matter.

And that didn’t sit right. Some things had to matter, after all.

The train journey was quiet, the work rush not yet in full swing, and he got home in good time.

It was quiet. And it was dark.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Ryusui and Ukyo were off doing who knows what, although whatever it was left Ryusui enough time to text him relentlessly. His manager never contacted him. She’d already agreed to give him the day to himself. And no one else ever visited him.

God, did he really not have any other friends?

Maybe Ryusui was right, he did work too much.

Gen sighed and threw his coat on the sofa. He heard it clunk and suddenly remembered the little rabbit ornament he bought earlier. He picked it up and admired the way the yellow light shone through it, making it almost seem to glow.

That made him smile at least.

He looked around for somewhere to put it. Somewhere he could admire it through the evening, as it would be gone later. He settled on the draws across from his bed.

He spent the evening sitting under his bed sheets with his laptop, watching whatever grabbed his attention on Netflix, and occasionally looking over to the little piece of glass. The little change to his day. The something new. It had been weeks since anything in the apartment had changed. Actually, it had been a lot longer than that. He wasn’t normally home long enough to bother with interior decorating. Maybe he should change it around, get some new furniture? He should at least pick up a couple of potted plants.

Actually, that would have to wait until he got back from his tour, wouldn’t it? He’d almost forgotten about the tour, despite the fact that he brought it up every morning. That was something he was supposed to be in the middle of, wasn’t it?

Would he ever get the chance to go on tour? What if he never got out of this thing? He’d certainly never be able to change up his apartment if he didn’t get out.

Gen grimaced and shut his computer. He needed to sleep.

He woke up the next morning to another chorus of ‘rise and shine’ from Ryusui, and for the first time, it wasn’t something particularly unwelcome. Gen was happy not to be alone.

He played along for a while, throwing words back and forth, before his eyes wandered over to the dresser.

The rabbit was gone.

Gen knew it would be, it wasn’t a surprise. However, as he really let that sink in, it was as if a stone had dropped into his stomach. This felt wrong. He’d been dicking about for… who knows how long, and had made no effort to get out of whatever this was because it was convenient.

He looked over to Ryusui again, his face lit up with enthusiasm as he rattled on about something or other.

Because he was a coward.

Running away forever had never been option in the first place.

Something had to change.

“Ryu,” he said, defeat evident in his voice.

Ryusui looked around from where he was picking through Gen’s clothes, startled by his tone. “Huh? Are you alright?”

Gen sighed. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry, but I think I need to talk to someone. Professionally.”

Ryusui met his gaze with concern for a moment before deflating and smiling. “Okay, do you need me to help you set it up?”

Gen nodded. “If you don’t mind.” He got up from bed and ushered Ryusui out of his room so he could get changed.

But just before he left, Gen caught his arm. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Nonsense.” Ryusui’s smile brightened until it was beaming and Gen felt a fluttering in his gut. “You’re far more important than my plans.”

Gen really didn’t deserve all of this.

“Thanks, Ryu.”

Chapter Text

Figuring out that this whole mess was caused by him having a Soulmate made Senku’s life considerably more straightforward. There was very little he could do to force a meeting between himself and someone he didn’t know yet. Not that he ceased his research. He knew relatively little about Soulmates and bond marks.

Unfortunately, so did everyone else.

Soulmates were a tricky thing, a decision seemingly made by fate that showed itself in ways that defied every known law of physics.

It was more than a little ironic that Senku, of all people, would have one.

On top of that, Senku couldn’t do anything to hurry it along. He couldn’t do much more than wait to meet them.

Bond marks were designed to bring two people together. All public research up to this point suggests that they aren’t random, and increase the likelihood of two people finding each other. Senku quickly concluded that it was unlikely his Soulmate was on the other side of the globe if he himself had no reason to be there.

So, his Soulmate was nearby. Or, at the very least, they were close enough for him to come into contact with. 

Not that it helped much. 

In a city populated by millions upon millions of people, the chance that he’d meet this person any time soon was minuscule. On the flip side, it was a statistical fact that, given enough time, he would have to run into them. But how long could that take?

There was just nothing he could do except let fate take its course.

He’d discussed it with Yuzuriha, and they concluded that if he left the areas he’d already been, he would have a greater chance of finding them. She’d subsequently given him permission to drag her and Taiju around to this end.

And so, he was on his way to meet with them once again.

Explaining his predicament as a bond mark quickly secured their belief in his plight. They’d spent a few days going to places they wouldn’t typically. It turned out to be more tiring than he could have ever anticipated, but he wanted out, and this was his best bet.

Senku took his seat on the metro train. He took the same one every day. His morning train was usually quiet and barren enough that he could sit alone without any uninvited company.

Except for today, apparently.

Senku looked up in confusion as someone he didn’t recognise stepped onto the train, talking into a phone.

This was… different.

It wasn’t too unusual for new people to appear in places he wasn’t used to them. Senku was as familiar with the butterfly effect as the next person. If he changed even a single word he said, it could cascade into a massive change to his day. It had happened a couple of times already; things changing without apparent reason.

And for the most part, as far as Senku was concerned, different was good.

He just wished different wasn’t so noisy.

“For God’s sake, I’m fine.” The person said into their phone, unfortunately taking the seat two down from Senku. Usually, an older woman occupied that seat after a couple of stops. She was quiet.

“I don’t need you to hold my hand all the… Ryu, you don’t have to tell me of all people how going to a psychologist works.” They sounded irritated. “Really, you’re just being… Oh, wait, no, Ryu, you’re breaking up. Yeah, I’ve just entered the station. Yeah, I can’t hear-” and without finishing the conversation, they hung up.

Despite himself, Senku had to keep his mouth clamped shut to stop laughing. He knew that feeling only too well; Byakuya could be just the same.

Now that the call had concluded and there was nothing left to distract him, Senku tried to ignore the anomaly on his train. But, for some reason, he found it impossible. He kept glancing over, trying to get a better look at them.

He was a young man. Senku could tell that much, but not a lot else. He was wearing a thick woollen hat that covered his hair and a mask that obscured his face. To top it off, he had glasses on, which, from what Senku could tell, didn’t have lenses in them. Was this guy trying to obscure his face?

Obviously, that meant that he didn’t want to be looked at. Senku tried to stare resolutely at his phone. There was nothing new to see on it, but it was better than creeping on someone he didn’t even know. He didn’t know why his eyes chose now of all times to wander; this wasn’t a problem he’d ever had to deal with before.

Senku pulled his hat over his ears and slumped down in his seat, face nestling into his scarf. He held his phone as close to his face as possible without it looking too weird, although maybe that boat had already set sail.

But even with a screen mere inches away from his face, Senku couldn’t stop himself glancing over to look at the stranger.

When Senku looked up, the guy was staring straight back at him.

He snapped back to his phone and felt his face begin to burn. He’d been caught. Of course, he’d been caught. He was being so obvious it hurt. What was wrong with him? Why was he being weird? Senku wasn’t weird. Okay, maybe he was a little weird, but not like this.

Even though he’d been caught and made a complete fool out of himself, Senku still wanted to say something. Not that he could think of what, but he had to stifle an impulse to talk to this complete stranger. A strong impulse. Since when does Senku want to strike up conversation with total strangers? What do you even say to a stranger? Senku had spent the last six months holed up in his room avoiding people; he wasn’t prepared to start a conversation, let alone with a person he’d just been caught staring at.

“Um, hey?”

Senku started and looked up. The man was still looking at him. In fact, he was leant over the seat between them.

At least Senku didn’t have to speak first.

“Hey.”

The other man chuckled. “I’m sorry, I just…” He seemed to think on his words for a moment. “I just wanted to say how cool your hat is.”

His hat? Ah, right.

“Oh, yeah, it is pretty cool. My friend made it for me.” He’d forgotten, but the hat he’d grabbed that morning was one Yuzuriha had made. She was a professional seamstress now, but this had been something she’d made him while they were still in high school. It was Mario themed, covered in piranha plants in the snow. Senku would have taken it off to give the guy a better look, but he was too dazed by the situation to think to.

“What, from scratch?”

Senku nodded. “Yeah, she’s always been really good at crochet and all that. I have a bunch of stuff she’s made for me over the years. I don’t know what to do with most of it.”

“That’s amazing. I wish my friends were good at… stuff. Once, one of them tried to make me a sweater for Christmas. Eventually, he came to me with a mess of wool and something that looked vaguely like a sock to prove that he’d tried before shoving one he bought in my face.”

Senku grinned and nodded. “Oh, I know that type. Had a friend try to bake me a birthday cake once. Somehow, it was simultaneously burnt and raw. This year, he tried again, and it came out much the same.”

The man laughed. Senku couldn’t see much of his face, but the way his eyes crinkled with his smile and the sound of his voice were almost mesmerising.

Okay, this was creepy, wasn’t it? Senku had known this man for all of about five minutes. These were not the thoughts one had about someone they had just met. But God did Senku want to make him laugh again.

“I’m lucky enough not to have to deal with awful food. Did you have to eat it?”

“No, thankfully. We trashed it and ate the cake my dad got. It may have been store-bought, but at least it was edible.”

“As long as he wasn’t offended. If Ryu made me something and I didn’t eat it, he’d be pouting at me for a week.”

“Nah, he was put out. He’s just very easily distracted.” In truth, Taiju was just too simple-minded to stay upset about anything for any length of time. In some respects, it was one of his best qualities. “I don’t know how I’d manage if he was anything like that.”

“To be honest, I'm not sure how I do. I love him, but he can be so dramatic and personal and touchy-feely. He’s like a helicopter parent, except that he’s my age.” The guy shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading this on a stranger. This is kinda weird.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Senku was surprised to find that it was. It was perfectly okay. With just about anyone else, Senku would have lost his patience after the first sentence, but he could probably sit and listen to this man’s grievances for hours and never get bored. Just being in his presence felt... right. 

Again, weird and vaguely unsettling. 

“My dad can be like that too. I swear that sometimes he forgets to treat me like an adult.”

“Yes. You get it. Urgh, he can be such a worrywart. He seems to think I need an escort to see a psychologist. He thinks a person with a degree in psychology needs that kind of help.”

Senku snorted. “A little on the nose, there.”

The guy rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“At least it makes sense for my dad to butt in. He’s a physics professor, and I took astrophysics.”

“Whoa, astrophysics? That’s amazing. You must be some kind of genius.”

Ah, the blush was back. Senku genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he was so affected by a compliment. Or by a person in general.

“Not really. Well, I mean, I guess it’s a complex subject, but I wasn’t the only one in the class. It’s not like I invented rockets.”

“Yeah, but it’s still impressive. It’s rocket science.”

“I mean, you spent years trying to understand the impossibility of the human mind. That’s nothing to sniff at.”

He smirked. “Wow, an astrophysicist singing the praises of a soft science. I can’t say I see that every day.”

That was true. Usually, Senku would be the first to poke fun at soft sciences, especially psychology. He respected the field even if he made fun of it, but finding out this person studied it somehow made it infinitely more interesting.

“Well, it’s a science. What isn’t there to praise?”

The man laughed again. Senku felt his stomach flutter. What the actual fuck?

“I can see where your priorities lie. But I’m glad. So many people disregard it because it’s not a subject that works with absolute truths. But they lose out on the fun of talking about uncertainties. There’s always something new to discover when you don’t know what you’re going to end up with. Oh, like, there was this one time…”

Senku sat and listened to this guy ramble about psychology for a good ten minutes. Some of it was stuff he’d heard before, some of it new, but all of it proved to be fascinating when coming from his lips. Senku could have sat there all day. It was even better when it was his turn to try and explain rocket science. He’d never had an audience so enraptured by what he was saying. Even Byakuya would blank out after a point, but this man seemed to hang onto his every word.

When he heard them call his stop, he paused before continuing with the conversation. Taiju and Yuzuriha could wait. They received his undivided attention every day. He could afford to devote a little more of it to this incredible stranger.

Senku didn’t bother to learn his name. He knew it would be pointless come morning. This conversation will be forgotten, and so will he, and this man will remain a pleasant memory. Maybe, if they’d met when he wasn’t stuck in a time loop, it could have been something more.

It was a shame, though; talking with him felt as natural as breathing.

They didn’t stop until the train reached the end of the line. At that point, Senku couldn’t find any excuse to keep the conversation going.

“Lucky we had the same stop,” the man said as they stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah, lucky,” Senku agreed, not looking forward to the journey back. He had meant to get off at least eight stops ago. He’d stopped keeping track pretty quickly. It was worth it, though. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“No, thank you. I don’t remember the last time I had such a pleasant conversation.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Well, I really hate to say goodbye, but I have an appointment to make. I…” The man paused, and Senku was surprised to see a flicker of genuine regret pass over his face. “I hope we meet again.”

Senku nodded. That regret was a feeling he shared, although, he was sure, for very different reasons.

He watched the man’s back retreat and slip around the corner before moving.

Watching him go felt like losing something important.

He would be a right downer when he met up with Taiju and Yuzuriha.

It didn’t take long to find the reverse station. Senku leaned against the platform wall and tried to quash the empty feeling that was settling back into his stomach. It was starting to become familiar, and he was surprised to realise that it had been gone.

Who knew that meeting someone new would have such an effect on him? Although maybe he’d just been lucky. It wasn’t like you clicked that much with every random person on the street.

Well, he’d have to forget about him eventually. He was meeting with his friends to search for his Soulmate. What was the point in forming otherwise superfluous connections?

Wait…

Could that have been?

It would make sense. Senku had been drawn to him like a bee to honey, even before they started talking. And he knew it hadn’t been a physical attraction. He couldn’t even see the guy’s face.

Had Senku just met his Soulmate and let him walk away without even getting his name?

Adrenaline spiked through his veins. He sprinted from the station, legging it up the stairs and to the street above. He turned this way and that, looking for the familiar hat and mask, but… of course, he saw nothing. He could go looking, but this street split in three. How likely was it that he would pick the right direction? He’d been standing around for at least ten minutes; on average, a person can walk half a mile in that time. He could be anywhere by that point.

Senku’s blood ran cold.

He’d just lost him.

His Soulmate.

Of course, there was no proof that was his Soulmate. But the more Senku tried to tell himself that, the less he could believe it. He’d never met anyone quite as stunning as that man had been, and he knew there was no good reason for him to feel so strongly about a stranger.

But he couldn’t get him out of his head. Especially not the sound of his laugh. It had been like music, and Senku wanted to listen on repeat.

Holy shit, since when was he this sappy? Was this how Taiju and Yuzuriha had felt the first time they met? No wonder they were infatuated with each other; this sensation drove away all common sense.

Then, a thought occurred to him.

He was stuck in a time loop. He’d get to meet him again if he did everything exactly the same tomorrow as today. Sure, he had no idea what he’d done to trigger this change to the loop, but he was determined to figure it out.

It was only a matter of time, after all.

And if Senku had anything, it was time. 

Chapter Text

Well, that was a complete waste of time.

Gen stepped onto the street from the psychologist’s office and huffed, pulling out his phone to look at the time. It was barely afternoon. What was he supposed to do with the rest of his day?

He hoped seeing a professional would at least take him a step closer to understanding what was going on, but the man Gen met with was just confused. He thought Gen was throwing metaphors at him, that he was growing bored with a repetitive daily life or whatever.

Gen couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was irritated.

He’d known that figuring his way out of this time loop, let alone why he was stuck in it, wouldn’t be easy. What little research he’d done up to this point was more than enough to make that clear. Maybe he should try contacting some theoretical physicists? But would they even get back to him? Would they even have the time?

That guy from the train would have been able to answer that.

A sappy grin spread over Gen’s face at the thought of him.

It was like the universe was laughing at him. Throwing a beautiful, funny, and downright brilliant man in his path the same day that he decided to get his act together. Like it was reminding him of how late he was to the party. Rubbing salt in his wounds.

Would he ever meet the man again? He sincerely hoped so.

Asking for his name or his number had seemed pointless at the time. The man wouldn’t even remember him past morning. Now, though, Gen was regretting not asking for either. At least his name, so he could refer to him as something more meaningful than Train-guy.

Oh well. Train-guy would have to remain as little more than a pleasant memory.

Which wouldn’t be hard, as Gen couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It was almost ridiculous. Gen couldn’t remember the last time he was so affected by someone. Well, someone other than Ryusui, and that in and of itself was staggering. A complete stranger had as much of an influence on him as the man he’d been in love with since he was still in high school.

Wasn’t that a good thing, though? Maybe, just maybe, it meant that Gen could move on. That he could get over all this annoying business and have a normal life again.

He would rather it be a life with Train-guy in it, though.

Gen sighed. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and walked off toward the train station.

With a fat lot of nothing under his belt, Gen would have to start at square one. And no getting deterred by big numbers or complicated ideas. It would be hard; Gen knew that the second he opened a theoretical physics textbook, he’d grow dizzy. But he didn’t have a choice anymore. 

Train-guy would probably understand all these complicated ideas. An astrophysicist would understand Einstein and whatever that universe fabric stuff was about. And Train-guy would probably be able to explain it so he understood. Gen hadn’t understood half of what he’d been told on the train, but that he’d understood any of it meant this guy must be a miracle worker.

Okay, Gen really needed to stop thinking about Train-guy.

But he had been so incredible. Incredibly smart, incredibly interesting, incredibly funny. And he was gorgeous, at least what Gen could see of him had been; the guy had been almost as well wrapped-up as himself. His eyes, though. They were sharp and intelligent and had been such a rich, beautiful shade of brown that, under the light, they had looked almost red.

It wasn’t fair. Train-guy, someone he was in all likelihood never going to meet again, had no business being so… impossible. So much more than anything Gen had ever encountered before.

Maybe he should go back tomorrow?

If he went back tomorrow, Train-guy would be there again, just like everyone else; same place, same time. Forever.

But he didn’t want to think about meeting him again. Meeting again and him having no recollection, the blank look on his face as he saw a stranger. Gen had dealt with that more than enough since this all began, and he didn’t think he could stand it from Train-guy, of all people.

He just had to figure this out and then go back before he broke the loop.

Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

He didn’t have to say goodbye forever. Just for now.

And when they did meet again, that time, he would learn his name. Gen would bet the world that it was as wonderful as he was. 

Gen was jolted out of his reverie as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He could guess who it was.

“Ryu, I’m an adult. I don’t need you checking in on me every time I do something.”

Gen could practically hear Ryusui’s pout over the line.

“But this is important. Are you okay? Did it go well? Do you need me to pick you up? I could have dropped you off, y’know. You didn’t have to take the train.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” And boy was he glad he had. “Look, I’ll talk to you about this later. I…” Gen paused and looked up. He was almost to the station now, but he was also close to the library. “I think I’m going to do something before going home.”

“What? Gen, are you sure? You shouldn’t be pushing yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m fine. I just… there’s something I need to do. It’s probably going to take a while, so I don’t think I’ll be back any time soon.”

“Gen, seriously. Is this a good idea?”

He hated making Ryusui worry like this. He’d probably done it a lot by this point, but he’d never witnessed the aftermath until now. It wasn’t fun.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I need to do it.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone at the moment. This is stressful for you, and you won’t tell me what happened.”

Gen smiled. Ryusui was far too good to him. “Really, Ryu, I’ll be fine. Maybe we could…” He bit his lip, knowing that what he was going to say was a bad idea but saying it anyway. “I know we won’t be going to that party later, but how about you come over for dinner instead? We’ll get pizza or something. If that makes you feel better.”

Ryusui was quiet for a moment. “All right, all right. Yeah, I can settle for that. Just be sure you don’t do anything stupid until I see you later, okay?”

“Do you really think so low of me, Ryu?”

“No, I just know you can be dumb and irrational. Don’t tell me you forgot about all those times I had to retrieve you from under the bridge in the park.”

Gen had tried very hard to forget that. “Whatever. Look, I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“And I’ll send the car for you.”

“No, you don’t have-”

“I’m sending the car for you, Gen.”

“Fine.”

“Good. I’ll see you later. Oh, and Ukyo says hi.”

Gen laughed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“And remember, nothing stupid.”

He hung up without replying to that.

He shouldn’t have suggested dinner, but it seemed a better alternative to Ryusui showing up at his place in the middle of the night demanding answers about where he’d been. And bizarrely, the idea of dinner with his friends didn’t seem quite so awful as breakfast this morning had.

Gen smiled as he turned in the direction of the library.

The library was quiet, as expected, but it was also pretty empty. Most of the desks and computers were unoccupied, and the librarian was away from her desk.

Gen made a beeline to one of the computers and got to work. How much progress he’d make was anyone’s guess, but he was determined to try.

He tried YouTube and random articles, looked on children’s science websites, and even pulled some books from the shelves, all far too complex for him. Regardless, he soldiered on, doing his best to understand the scope of everything he found.

Hours later, when the sun had firmly set, and the streetlamps had been on for a while, Gen could confidently say he was no closer to figuring this out. But he was getting there.

He at least understood what time dilation was and that black holes might have something to do with it. The fabric thing still failed to make sense. His perception of reality had been torn apart, but he was a little more knowledgeable when he decided it was time to pack up and try again tomorrow. He could say he learnt something, and that was enough.

Although, from what he did understand so far, he couldn’t say it felt entirely relevant. How research into literal time travel felt irrelevant to a time loop, Gen didn’t know, but it did. None of it was quite right. It didn’t match his situation.

He wasn’t about to lose hope, though. He had all the time in the world to figure this out. Giving up on the first day wasn’t an option.

As he stepped out of the library, having checked out a couple of the literal tomes he’d dug out earlier, Gen called Ryusui and had a black car pulling up to take him home.

Ryusui nor Ukyo was in the car, for which Gen was thankful, and he didn’t meet them until he walked into his own apartment and found them squabbling in the kitchen.

“Gen,” Ryusui yelled when he walked in. He smiled and ran over to envelop Gen in a hug. Entirely unnecessary, but Gen just rolled his eyes and pat him on the back. “You’re alright? In one piece?” Ryusui pulled back and started inspecting him up and down.

“Better than alright.” Gen pushed his way out of Ryusui’s reach and put the books on the coffee table. “It’s not like I was throwing myself in front of a bus. I was only at the library.”

Ryusui’s face pulled down. “Why?”

“To read stuff, why else?” He pointed to the books. “I also ended up doing research for my show. I got an idea while I was out and wanted to think it out a bit more before putting it past my manager.” That was a complete lie, but it was easier to throw something in that would divert suspicion. He didn’t fancy having to explain why he was researching theoretical physics. 

“I thought your show script was already finalised?” Ukyo said, moving to sit on the couch.

“Yeah, but we’ve got to rework bits because of the transportation issues, remember?”

“The what?” Ukyo paused midway to his seat. “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“I didn’t? But…”

Oh shit. He hadn’t said anything about it, had he? Gen had been running with that story for so long that he’d started acting as if it was reality. 

“It’s nothing serious,” Gen said, backtracking. After making it out to be so big of a deal that he had to cancel all their plans, it was weird to be playing it down. “There’s only a problem with one section of the show. I just need to rework the trick to work without the equipment.”

“God, no wonder you’ve been so stressed.” Ryusui shook his head. “I swear, this tour’s too much. You’ve been working on it non-stop for months, and now, when it’s finally finished, you have to do it again?”

“It’s not like I have to rework the whole show, just one segment.”

Ryusui ignored Gen and shoved him down onto the sofa. “I’m getting you a drink. You need to stop working for a second and relax.”

“I do things other than work when you aren’t around, you know?”

Ukyo chuckled as he sat next to Gen. “He’s just overreacting, you know how he is. But really, I’m not surprised you wanted to talk to someone if you’ve been dealing with stuff like this. How much else haven’t you told us?”

“Nothing, honestly.” Nothing they needed to know anyway. “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important.”

“Not important, my ass,” Ryusui retorted from the kitchen. “Your definition of important is as accurate as a blind monkey throwing darts.”

Gen rolled his eyes. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Ukyo put his hand on Gen’s shoulder. “We’re just worried about you,” he said. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve overworked yourself. We’re your friends. You can talk to us about this stuff.”

Gen paused and looked down at Ukyo’s hand. He considered telling them for a moment. About the time loop and everything that had happened. He knew he needed to talk to someone about this; dealing with life-changing phenomena alone was a recipe for frying your brain.

But what if they didn’t believe him? What if they got upset and thought he was making fun of them? He would, in their position. This was insane. He only believed it because it was happening to him.

Ryusui and Ukyo were his friends, though. If they didn’t believe him, no one would. And at the very least, they’d hear him out, right? They cared. He trusted in their care.

He couldn’t deal with it if they didn’t, though. If it just made them angry… Was that a risk Gen could take? It was just one more thing on the pile, after all. Not that important in the grand scheme. He didn’t want to burden them with all this magical bullshit anyway. He’d coped with everything else; he could cope with this.

Was he coping, though? They wouldn’t remember any of it, even if it did go wrong. So, what was he really risking here?

“There.”

Gen startled as Ryusui roughly shoved a glass of water in his hands and took a seat on his other side, sandwiching him between the two. 

“Now we have…” Ryusui pulled out his phone and checked the time, “…about fifteen minutes until the pizza arrives, and you’re going to tell us how your appointment went.” 

Gen’s fingers curled around the cool glass, feeling the condensation spread across this skin.

He was fine.  

He’d figure it out soon. On his own.

He had to. 

“I don’t know why you’re so excited about all of this,” he said, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “It was absolutely useless; the guy was a hack.” 

“You’re kidding me.”

“Afraid not.” Gen shrugged and took a sip of the water. Ryusui wasn’t wrong about him needing it; the feeling of the cold liquid running down his throat was pleasant. 

“Tell me anyway,” Ryusui insisted, nudging Gen with his elbow. “I think you might just be biased.”

Gen gave in and told them what happened, in equal parts truth and lies. The psychologist was as much of a hack as Gen claimed he was, but he had to carefully avoid anything about the time loop and couldn’t bitch about the worst parts. 

It wasn’t long until the pizza arrived, and the food settled the conversation onto more mundane topics, mostly of little consequence. They put a movie on and talked through most of it. 

It was nice.

It wasn’t until after the two of them had left that Gen realised what he’d been doing.

He’d spent an entire evening squished up against Ryusui’s side and hadn’t spared a thought to what was going on. He’d let Ryusui lean all over him, and Ukyo had been right next to him! What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been thinking; that was the problem. Was he so tired now that his brain was shutting off? But he’d had such a good day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so content, the last time his brain had been moving at such a leisurely pace. 

Gen grimaced, his face warming at the memory. He was getting lazy. Was he giving up? Did this not matter to him anymore?

Had he stopped caring about keeping Ryusui and Ukyo around? 

Goosebumps flared across his skin, the hairs down the back of his neck prickling at the mere notion. He rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. He ran the tap and downed as much water as possible in a single breath. 

He couldn’t lose them, no matter what.

At any cost.

Anything.

Gen curled over and thumped his head against the cold granite countertop.

This time loop was going to be the end of him. 

Chapter Text

Senku pushed the bread down in the toaster and leaned against the countertop. He saw his warped reflection in the side of the toaster, specked with muck and streaked from an improper clean. 

He scowled.

He wasn’t supposed to scowl, but he found himself doing so more often than not. It didn’t seem to make a difference whether he scowled or not, though, as long as he spent the next two minutes in this exact spot as he waited for his toast. If he was honest, that probably didn’t make much of a difference either, but he didn’t want to do anything to make Byakuya act differently. 

Not that it had made a difference thus far.

Twenty-nine attempts to butterfly effect his Soulmate onto the train had proved absolutely pointless. But Senku wasn’t about to give up.

His Soulmate was the only way out of this mess, and without his number, name, or even his face to work with, Senku didn’t have any other option. He wanted out, and he wanted it soon.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

Senku let the scowl drop as he remembered his Soulmate. He knew so little but what he did know was just…

He caught himself wearing a dopey smile in his reflection and tried to wipe it away, but his whole expression remained soft and abated. It was hard to stay mad when he thought about the mischievous glint in his beautiful eyes; the melodic, almost performed lilt of his voice; the soft but entrancing chime of his laughter.

Senku rolled his eyes. He was acting like a lovesick teenager. But he couldn’t deny that, while he wanted to be free of the time loop, he wanted to see his Soulmate again so much more.

He jumped as the toaster pinged. 

That put the scowl right back on his face. Scared by the toaster? Seriously?

 He grumbled as he moved the toast onto a plate and reached for the butter and a knife. The same plate and knife he used every morning, just in case it made a difference.

Not that anything seemed to make a difference. 

It was all well and good repeating the same steps every morning, trying to recreate that day with painstaking detail, but none of it worked. It didn’t matter what he did, how, or when.

Even worse was that he knew his memory was imperfect. With every failed attempt, every day that passed, his memory grew more and more unreliable. What he’s confident he did that morning changed daily and undoubtedly became less accurate. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He was doing something wrong.

What was he doing wrong?

It had been almost a month, and he had nothing to show. Nothing. How many times would he have to play out this same stupid morning? Say the same stupid things, eat the same stupid toast that tasted blander every time he forced it down his throat.

How long would it be before he got it right? Before he stopped fucking up? Before he stopped being such a useless piece of shit incapable of doing anything of meaning and losing every good thing he’d ever come across? Before-

“Ow, shit.”

Senku flinched as he nicked his finger trying to cut his toast in half. He watched a bead of blood swell in the small cut before dropping onto his breakfast and pooling with the melted butter. The knife wasn’t even that sharp; he was just being careless.

“Hey, kid, everything alright?” Byakuya called from behind him, looking up from his phone. “Need a plaster?”

Senku’s hand tightened around the knife’s handle until his knuckles burned white. 

Another day wasted. He’d been awake for less than half an hour and already fucked it up. 

“Uh, Senku?”

“Fuck,” Senku yelled, flinging the knife into the sink. It hit the side with a metallic screech before bouncing back and skittering across the floor.

“Woah, Senku, be careful.” Byakuya leapt from his chair, but Senku couldn’t care less. 

He bunched his hands in his hair and sank down to the floor. His back pressed into the corners of the kitchen cabinets. “I can’t believe…” he muttered, pulling so hard on his hair that he could feel strands coming loose. “It’s all fucking pointless.”

“S-Senku?” Byakuya crouched down and put a tentative hand on Senku’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Senku didn’t respond. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to force himself to calm down. 

He shouldn’t have done that. He could have seriously injured himself or, worse, Byakuya. But he was just so… so frustrated.

Byakuya shook his shoulder. “Hey, talk to me. Did something happen?”

A lot happened, but he wasn’t about to tell Byakuya about it.

Senku raised his head and opened his mouth to brush Byakuya off when he heard the front door click and open. Lillian called a cheerful good morning and swished into the room with a brilliant smile on her face. It quickly dropped when she saw the scene taking place before she arrived.

“Oh is… Is everything alright?”

Byakuya made to answer, unsure about it himself, but Senku jumped up and sneered.

“Obviously not.” He saw his cold toast on the counter and realised that his appetite had vanished. Really, it had barely been there in the first place. He picked up the bread and threw it in the bin before letting the greasy plate clatter into the sink alongside the fresh dent. “And it won’t be made any better with you sticking your nose into it.”

“Oi, Senku,” Byakuya warned, voice low and absent of the concern from earlier. “Watch your mouth. You don’t talk that way, especially to Lillian.”

Senku scoffed and ignored him, stomping out of the kitchen and to his room. He slammed the door, locked it, and flopped onto his bed. 

He was still buzzing, hands clenched into fists at his sides and his breathing uneven. Senku tried to take deep breaths, to calm down. He was being irrational and emotional, and it was wrong to take it out on Byakuya and Lillian. He needed to get a grip, but it was so hard to keep a level head when he was plagued by the thought that he could be trapped in this mess forever.

By the thought that he might not see his Soulmate again.

Finally, he sighed and forced his hands to unclench. 

Senku sat up and timed his breaths until they returned to normal and his brain stopped overheating. He could hear Byakuya and Lillian’s muffled voices from the kitchen but did his best to block them out. Thinking about them just made him flush in shame.

Eventually, Senku curled up and started scrolling through his phone, through the same social media feeds he’d seen for weeks, through the same articles he’d been recommended ad nauseum. He didn’t move for an hour or so until he heard the front door open and close, announcing that he was finally alone.

Usually, Senku would be sitting at his computer by now, scrolling through the same couple of websites without actually reading them, just trying to trigger his Soulmate’s appearance on the train. He doubted it would have any effect, but he was desperate.

But right now, Senku didn’t feel like putting himself through that again. If his chance that day was ruined, there wasn’t much point in subjecting himself to that boredom when he could rewatch a few episodes of something or other before going to meet Taiju and Yuzuriha. And, more importantly, catching the train his Soulmate might be on.

So, he did just that, trying to enjoy himself even a little before gearing up to wait on the train and inevitably be disappointed when he spent the journey alone.

Of course, a while later, when Senku was sitting on the train and the automated voice announced the stop over the tannoy, he looked up at the doors opening onto the platform. He watched, breath hitching in anticipation. He waited to see if his Soulmate would walk on, obnoxiously complaining into his phone.

And, of course, he didn’t.

It never got any easier. Even though Senku knew that he’d fucked up that morning, it didn’t stop the giant boulder from settling in the pit of his gut. If anything, the boulder only grew larger with each day.

At least he wouldn’t have to miss his stop. 

Silver linings and all that.

The café where Taiju and Yuzuriha were waiting for him was as busy as always. He skirted around the queue and made a practised beeline for the table in the back where Taiju was waving him over.

He collapsed into his side of the booth and ignored his friends’ greetings in favour of chugging the cup of coffee he knew was his. 

The bitter liquid was sobering as it burned his tongue and slid down his throat, filling his chest with a warm calm. His stomach growled its protest, too, only now remembering that he’d thrown out his breakfast. He promptly scoffed his cake slice.

“Um, Senku?” Yuzuriha asked, leaning forward to try and catch his attention. “Senku, are you alright?”

“Senku?” Taiju was less subtle. “Can. You. Hear. Us?”

Senku sighed and gritted his teeth together. “Yes, I can hear you.”

“Oh, good.” Taiju beamed. “I thought you’d gone deaf for something.”

“Or something,” Senku muttered as he popped the lid from the coffee cup to see if he could fish out the last dregs.

Yuzuriha was less easily appeased. “What’s wrong? You’re acting strange.”

Senku opened his mouth to rattle off the usual ‘I’m fine’ and brush her off. But, looking at her, he stopped and thought for a moment.

He was far from proud of his behaviour that morning, and his finger wasn’t too happy with him either. He knew that it was because he was bottling it up. He hadn’t bothered explaining anything to his friends since meeting his Soulmate. They had done more than enough in helping him figure out he had a Soulmate in the first place, and he had been so sure that he could fix everything on his own now that he had the tools.

It was supposed to be as easy as doing everything the same and forcing his Soulmate to show up on the train again.

Except, it hadn’t been that easy, had it?

“Senku?” she asked again.

He shook his head. “It’s… It’s a long story.”

She smiled and sat back in her chair. “We have time.”

He told them everything: about the time loop, his Soulmate, his endless attempts to find him again. They were a good audience, as they always had been, and by the time he finished, they both looked pensive, which was a feat for Taiju. 

“It is a little strange that he wouldn’t show up again,” Yuzuriha agreed. “I find it hard to believe that something so insignificant could be the trigger… And there’s really no other way to find him? You know something about him, surely?”

“A bit. He has a degree in psychology. He has a friend called Ryu. I got the vibe that he was a thespian or something.” He knew his Soulmate was smart and funny and cute. And he had beautiful eyes and a laugh that Senku was borderline obsessed with by this point. 

Was he out of appropriate things to say already? Senku scratched at the back of his neck, knowing his face was in danger of flushing red. It had been weeks since he met the guy, and despite knowing absolutely nothing about him, Senku was still somehow infatuated.

Yuzuriha laughed. “Don’t worry, I get it.” She looked up to Taiju, who appeared to no longer be paying attention. “Your Soulmate is special. You don’t need a reason to love them immediately. Somewhere, deep down, you know you’ll have one eventually. Although, the feeling is a little more confusing when you don’t know it’s your Soulmate that you’ve met.” She picked up her tea and used it to hide her sheepish grin. “I must admit, I felt a bit like a lovesick idiot. It’s not exactly normal to feel that way about someone you barely know.”

“You have no idea how reassuring it is to hear that.” Senku sat back and crossed his arms. “I’ve been half-convinced that I was going insane.”

“Arguably, you have,” Yuzuriha countered, snickering when Senku rolled his eyes at her.

The two of them returned to their thoughtful silence as they mulled over the problem again, Yuzuriha coming at it fresh, Senku for the hundredth time.

But he was quickly distracted by the fact that Taiju still appeared deep in thought. He was so deep in thought that Senku wondered if it was painful. And, judging by the vein bulging unnaturally on his forehead, it really might have been.

“Oi,” Senku called, waving his hand in Taiju’s face. “Earth to Taiju?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of it and looked between Yuzuriha and Senku. “Did I miss something?”

“I don’t know, did you? You were out of it for a while.”

“Is there a problem?” Yuzuriha asked, resting her hand on Taiju’s forearm, brow laced with concern.

“No! Not at all.” Taiju rushed to cover her small hand with his huge monkey paw, squeezing it in reassurance.

The way she relaxed was visible, and Senku couldn’t help but wonder if that was what he’d be like when he eventually reunited with his Soulmate. He certainly hoped so.

He’d always thought Yuzuriha and Taiju’s relationship was slightly over the top, even with the Soulmate bond. Their blatant disregard for other people when they were together. How they could be so rapt in each other that the world could be ending, and they’d still be gazing into each other’s eyes. It had always come across as silly from the outside, an exercise in immature ideals of love that he’d always expected to fade away as they grew up. 

But now, Senku thought he understood. There was just something so powerful about a Soulmate. He could honestly picture himself acting that way; he probably had been during that blissful half hour on the train.

Taiju shook his head. “I’m fine. I was just thinking.”

“Careful, that’s dangerous.” Senku couldn’t help himself. While Taiju didn’t seem to mind, Yuzuriha shot him an unimpressed look. “What’s got your head in the clouds, then?”

“Well,” Taiju started. He frowned deeply, searching for the correct words. “I was thinking about bond marks and  our bond mark, and… aren’t they meant to be shared, or something? So, I just thought that if you’re in a Groundhog Day, maybe your Soulmate is too. Y’know, like a double Groundhog Day. ” 

Senku opened and closed his mouth like a fish, looking for the appropriate response. “A… double Groundhog Day?”

“Yeah,” Taiju nodded. “So, if you do different stuff every day, maybe he does too.”

“Actually, that would make a lot of sense.” Yuzuriha perked up; Senku could practically see the lightbulb switch on over her head. “How would you know he’s your Soulmate if you weren’t sharing the experience? It would also explain why he hasn’t been on the train since you met. It’s not because of the butterfly effect. It’s because he’s acting independently of the time loop.”

“But…” Senku worried his lip, not liking the implications but finding himself unable to argue with the logic. “But then why didn’t he come back to the train anyway? If we’re both looking for a way out, we’re both looking for each other…”

“Maybe he doesn’t know it’s a Soulmate thing yet?” Taiju suggested. “It took you a long time to work out, didn’t it? And you’re so smart it hurts my head.”

That was true. If Senku didn’t have Taiju and Yuzuriha, a pair of genuine Soulmates to confide in, he might still be down the trail of wormholes and time dilation. Sure, he would have figured it out eventually, but how long would it have taken? And if his Soulmate didn’t figure out it was a Soulmate thing soon, he might forget about their encounter. He might never know to look for him on the train in the first place. 

Senku could keep going, but it probably wouldn’t help. 

He groaned and planted his face in his arms. “I don’t know what’s worse: what all of this means or that Taiju figured it out before I did.” 

Yuzuriha laughed and patted him on the back across the table. “It’s okay, Senku. At least you know it’s not your fault he wasn’t on the train.”

Yeah, he now knew he’d wasted a month doing fuck all and getting angry about it.

“You’ll find him eventually. It’s a bond mark. It’ll work.” Yuzuriha was doing her best, but all of her words just ricocheted off of him. 

“Yeah, eventually. Who knows how long ‘eventually’ could be? The idea of bumping into a specific person in a city this large…” Senku sat up to look her in the eye. “In a city of thirteen million people, the chance of you running into a single, specific person is about point-one per cent. So even if I spend the entire day running around like a madman, it would still be less than a one per cent chance. And that’s every day. I don’t get more likely to run into him. It stays like that. Yeah, there’s a chance, but it could take months. Years. Decades.”

Neither of them had anything to say to that. Senku flopped back in his seat and ran his hands roughly through his hair. He was tugging hard, but the pain was pleasant. Distracting.

It had been bad enough when he thought he had to track down a person stuck doing the same thing every day. But this…

If fate existed, if fate had done this to him, it was laughing in his face.

“Senku.” Yuzuriha was frowning at him, and he could hear the pity in her voice. “You can’t give up on this.”

“But it’s impossible.”

“It’s not, and you know it.”

“Well, it’s certainly close,” he spat. “What am I supposed to do anyway? There’s nothing I can do other than wait.”

“Then wait,” she said. “It’s worth it. I promise.”

Senku believed her. With a Soulmate like his, he couldn’t imagine anything being worth more. But it didn’t help. He could tell himself that all day and still, the only thing that stuck was that he’d lost his chance. He’d had the opportunity to find a sliver of happiness, of stability and love in his life. And he’d let it slip through his fingers because he had felt sorry for himself. 

“I just… I need a break.” Senku said, feeling the tension drain from him as the dread and acceptance of how fucked up this all was finally settled in. “I want to go to bed.”

“Then do that,” Taiju said. “We can deal without you. This is important. And it’s not like we’ll remember.”

“Yes, but don’t forget that you must go back to looking eventually.” Yuzuriha pointed out. “There might not be anything you can do to change it, but staying in bed will only make it worse.”

Senku decided to focus on the part where he was told he could go home. She was right, though; Senku knew that. But he’d spent so long obsessing over all of this, and now he was just…

“I’ll go back to the train one last time. I’ll go tomorrow, and if he’s not there, then…” Senku sighed. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

There wasn’t much he could do otherwise. He was holding onto hope; he really was. But he figured that if he was alone on that train tomorrow, it was fate’s way of telling him to give up and let whatever stuck him in this mess take care of it.

After all, what else could he do?

Chapter Text

Gen pouted as he chewed on his omelette. 

When he set out to discover what was up with the time loop stuff, he anticipated it being hard, but he never anticipated it being impossible. How could days and days and days of research bring up nothing useful?

He grumbled around his fork and glared at his orange juice. It wasn’t his juice’s fault that he’d spent almost a month doing research that felt useless, but it wasn’t about to get offended if he did. However, his friends were apparently offended on its behalf.

“What did your juice ever do to you?” Ryusui asked, holding back a smile at Gen’s intensity. “You look like you’re planning to conduct vigilante justice on it.”

Gen turned his glare on Ryusui instead. “Maybe I am.”

Ukyo rolled his eyes. “You’ve been staring daggers at it all morning. Are you okay?”

Gen blinked at Ukyo for a second.

“I’m just upset that my research into time dilation isn’t going anywhere.”

“T-time dilation?” he parroted back. “Why are you researching theoretical physics?”

“That, Ukyo, is an excellent question because it’s doing fuck all.” Gen sighed and ran his finger around the lip of his glass. “Although I have learnt some cool stuff. Did you know there’s a theory that we may all be a two-dimensional projection that perceives itself as three-dimensional and has no way to confirm one way or the other? And that it’s all based on scientific fact and speculation?”

“I…” Ukyo stuttered, glancing over to Ryusui for help. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s crazy. And here I thought it was only philosophers out to make me question my existence. Turns out that physicists have the same agenda.”

“Okay, but why do you care?” Ryusui asked, brow pulling down. “You didn’t seem concerned with scientific theory yesterday. The only textbook you burned after high school was your physics one because you hated it that much.”

“Well… I changed my mind.” Gen pouted and hung his head to look at his plate.

And that wasn’t even a lie. Ever since meeting Train-guy, physics and all that crap seemed a lot more interesting, especially when it had come from his mouth. And besides, Gen liked the idea of being able to impress him the next time they met.

Gen constantly found himself wishing he had Train-guy around. Whether it was to help him with his research, to magically give him all the answers (which he was half convinced Train-guy could do), or just so he could look at his face. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drift off just thinking about his eyes and smile, wishing he could see them again, learn the name attached to them. 

But he had to be patient.

“That answer’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Oh, right, Gen wasn’t alone. 

He stuck up his nose and prepared to brush their concerns off, if only for long enough that they forgot. He’d done it countless times; once more was nothing.

Except…

Gen stumbled over himself, his train of thought catching him off guard.

He looked between the two of them, at their expectant and unimpressed faces. He could already imagine their faces twisted up in disgust and anger, the only reasonable reaction to something so outrageous and stupid and…

Gen screwed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe. 

They’d never looked at him like that in their lives. Why was he so convinced they would switch gears now? 

They wouldn’t. Right? They were his friends. He trusted them.

But if they did…

Gen sat up straight and set his face as neutral as he could force it. He held his hands in his lap, grasping each other so tightly he’d have red marks all day. But that didn’t matter. The slight pain was good. Grounding. 

“Fine,” he said. “You really want to know?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer, but Gen couldn’t bring himself to lift his eyes from his lap to see their reaction. Then, after a moment, he could hear the table groan under shifting weight. 

“If you’re willing to tell us,” Ukyo said, quiet but solid.

“Is it going to be the truth?” Ryusui said, although there was no malice in it. It was more teasing, and Gen relaxed slightly. 

The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I always tell the truth, don’t insult me.” He paused and chewed on his lip. “You aren’t going to believe me, but whatever.” 

He took a deep breath.

And then he explained. 

About the time loop. About his research. He glossed over the parts where he unceremoniously ditched and lied to them daily, but he didn’t think it would matter.

Gen avoided looking at them, afraid of losing his nerve. He’d started this, and he was going to commit to it. He could have been talking to thin air and be none the wiser for how little attention he was paying them. Actually, that wasn’t right. His attention was laser focused on them; they were just deathly quiet throughout. 

“Research hasn’t been going well, though, like I said earlier.” Gen tried to crack a smile, but he knew it came out as more of a grimace. Was he so tired that he couldn’t even fake a smile anymore?

Gen swallowed and, finally, glanced up, and he felt the overwhelming urge to vomit.

“… There’s a surprising — well, maybe not surprising, but I wasn’t expecting, um… you just don’t expect real science to cover time travel and… y’know.” His train of thought was rapidly running dry, and his eyes had started darting about the room.

They weren’t just unimpressed. They were upset. With him.

Ukyo’s jaw was clenched, eyebrows drawn in such a display of concern that Gen was surprised Ukyo hadn’t dragged him to a hospital already. And that would be bad enough on its own, but Ryusui…

Ryusui’s face was drawn hard, his mouth thin and eyes narrowed.

He had to swallow again; his throat felt like it had been left out in the sun. His breath came raspy as he scrambled to say something after his prolonged pause. 

“I mean, I didn’t — I wouldn’t start with my own work. Well, I kinda did, but I gave up at first and, well, it was complicated, and I was confused and I… eventually I thought I should… I should get some help from someone and—“

“Gen.”

Gen jolted, almost falling from his chair.

“We can’t help if you don’t tell us what’s wrong.” 

He didn’t look, couldn’t look, but Gen heard the metallic squeak of Ryusui’s chair as he sat up.

“I’m trying—“

“No, we’re the ones trying, Gen.”

“Ryusui,” Ukyo said.

“He’s making fun of us.”

“I’m not!” For as loud as his outburst was, Gen felt only a light breeze away from falling to pieces. “I wouldn’t do that; you know I wouldn’t.”

Ryusui rolled his eyes, and… Gen shouldn’t be looking, but now that he was, he couldn’t stop.

“I know that you try to wriggle out of any conversation that so much as threatens to be serious.”

Gen frowned, not in panic this time, but in a mirror of Ryusui’s. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation right now.”

Ryusui scoffed. “Yeah, because science fiction fantasies are serious conversation. Gen, you sound like a mad man.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“If you know, then why would even try?”

“Give it a rest, you two,” Ukyo interrupted sharply. “We aren’t going to get anywhere by bickering.”

“We aren’t bicker-”

“Shut up, Ryu.” Ukyo glowered at Ryusui before clenching his fist and composing himself. “Okay,” he said, turning to look at Gen. “I just… Gen, I can tell this is stressing you out, but you need to be honest with us here.”

“I am being honest,” Gen repeated, surprised by just how desperate he sounded. 

Ukyo held tense, eyes raking over Gen’s face before he finally sat back. “Okay. Good,” Ukyo said, nodding. “I won’t lie; I don’t believe a lick of it.” The concern was still so engraved into Ukyo’s face you might have thought he was born that way, but at least he wasn’t mad. “But I believe that you do. So, I’m willing to help, even if I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh, come on.” Ryusui huffed. “You can’t be buying this?”

Ukyo rolled his eyes. “I’m not, but I also don’t think Gen is lying.”

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Magical time loops? Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Gen. “If you don’t want to talk to us, you could just say so.”

“I do want to talk to you.” Gen clenched his teeth, pain prickling behind his eyes. “That’s what I’m doing. I never expected you to believe me; I know it’s all fucking insane.”

Ryusui stood up so suddenly that his chair screeched against the wood and threatened to topple over. “It’s only insane because you made it up.”

“I didn’t make it up.” Gen stood too, knocking over his glass and spilling juice across the table. “You’re just refusing to listen.”

“I’ll listen when you say something worth listening to.”

“Then what am I meant to say? Because apparently nothing I can think of is worthy.”

“Just tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

“Stop it!” Ukyo yelled, startling the both of them. “Getting angry isn’t going to do anything.”

“Why shouldn’t I be angry?” Ryusui’s voice dropped back to a speaking tone, apparently unwilling to raise his voice at Ukyo. 

That wasn’t something Gen had time to think about, though. 

“Because everyone’s just going to get hurt. More hurt, anyway.” Ukyo shot a look at Ryusui that said something. What that something was, Gen didn’t know, but it was enough to make Ryusui bristle and look away. “You haven’t even stopped to think about it from Gen’s perspective.”

“And what perspective is that? One where I mock my friends for trying to look out for me?”

“I’m not mocking you,” Gen muttered, arms pulling around his chest when Ryusui snapped to look at him like he’d forgotten he was there. 

Thankfully, instead of yelling again, Ryusui sighed. “Gen, I know you. You don’t actually believe in real magic. We both know it’s bullshit and illusions and stuff.”

“I did until it started happening to me.”

“Please, Gen. Unless you hiding a wand or a genie lamp or… or a soulmate up your sleeve then—”

“Wait, what?” Gen blinked at Ryusui. “What was that?”

“I’m just saying—”

“No, Gen’s right,” Ukyo said, eyes as wide as Gen’s felt. “That could actually— that would make sense. Bond marks can be pretty out there. I mean, this is pretty tame compared to some of the stuff you hear on the news.”

Gen’s knees grew weak, and he collapsed back into his chair.

He was an idiot. How had he never considered Soulmates? It was like… a rule in psychology. In science. In life. If something didn’t make sense, it was probably a bond mark. How had he gone so long without figuring it out himself?

No. Gen knew why he hadn’t figured it out.

He didn’t deserve a Soulmate. So why would he consider something like that?

But maybe he had one anyway.

“Gen?” Ukyo said, walking around the table to wave his hand in front of Gen’s face. “You still there?”

Gen looked up at him and smiled. 

“Do you really think… Do I have a Soulmate?”

Ukyo smiled back at him. “Well, it’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it?”

Gen swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.” And he was right. It was the only thing that made sense. As much sense as a bond mark can make, at least. 

He had a Soulmate.

He laughed, running a hand down his face. “God, that psychologist was useless. I’ve been stuck in a time loop for weeks; what excuse did he have?”

“Psychologist?” Ryusui parroted, still standing awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” Gen said, the joy seeping back out of his tone. “As I was trying to say before you interrupted me, I tried to see if a professional could help.”

“Oh.”

Gen frowned. “Yeah, ‘oh’. I wouldn’t lie about something this stupid.”

Ryusui, at the very least, had the wherewithal to look ashamed of himself. “I, um… I guess.” He coughed. “God, Gen. I’m so sorry, I didn’t… Ukyo’s right. I should have — I shouldn’t have just lost my temper. Fuck.”

“It’s okay.” Gen didn’t meet Ryusui’s eyes when he said it, fiddling with his fingers. “I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

“No,” Ryusui said, stepping out to join them on the other side of the table. “It’s not okay, Gen. You didn’t deserve that. I’m supposed to be your best friend. I should have—”

“Ryu, really. Just drop it.” Gen shrugged. “It’s not like you’ll remember any of this in the morning, is it?”

“But you will.”

That startled Gen into looking up at the guilt written over Ryusui’s face. He didn’t have the time to process that before Ryusui’s hands landed on his shoulders, and his face morphed back into a tentative grin.

“If this thing is just going to lead to us fighting, we should get you out of it as soon as possible, yeah?”

Gen nodded.

“But man! You have a Soulmate. How cool is that?”

“The coolest,” Gen agreed, feeling a dopey grin spread across his face. “I have a Soulmate.” He tried to stifle it, knowing he must look crazy, but the corners of his mouth refused to stay down.

Ryusui laughed in his usual boisterous way. “You’re really excited about this, huh?”

“Obviously. Wouldn’t you be?”

“Not if it wasn’t Ukyo.”

Gen brushed Ryusui off and shook his head. “We can’t all be in loving, committed relationships.” But he was about to be. Gen had never been in a serious relationship before. Sure, he’d fooled around here and there, but nothing had lasted long. Not that it couldn’t have, but pulling someone along didn’t feel right when he could only ever think of Ryusui. 

But… what if it was just the same with his Soulmate? It seemed silly, but the thought still lingered. He didn’t want to still be hung up on Ryusui when he had his literal Soulmate before him. But he’d never known anything else. No matter how wonderful they were, he’d never been so attracted to anyone else. 

Well, maybe except for Train-guy.

Gen felt his breath catch in his throat.

Ryusui startled. “Whoa, Gen, you okay?”

He’d started coughing violently, and both Ukyo and Ryusui rushed to help him, Ryusui beating him hard on the back. 

Gen nodded quickly, trying to find his voice. “Train-guy,” he said, voice hoarse and small, but he had to tell them.

“What?” Ukyo cocked his head to the side. “Who?”

“Train-guy,” he repeated, regaining control of his body. “There was this guy I met on the train this one time, and he was…” Gen trailed off as he let Train-guy reinvade his thoughts. He’d plagued Gen’s mind so much he was sure he’d never forget him, even as his face continued to blur more and more in his memory.

Could he really be…?

It made a lot of sense. After years of obsessing over one person, Train-guy had come barreling into his life and changed everything. He’d been charming, captivating, mesmerising. Strangers didn’t have any business being mesmerising.

But if that stranger were his Soulmate?

“Oh, I can’t even describe him. He was incredible. I’ve never met anyone like him. I sat down next to him and couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I’d never even met him before; it was ridiculous.” Gen chuckled sheepishly, knowing exactly how it all sounded. “But if he’s my Soulmate, then it’s a little less ridiculous, right? All I need to do is return to the train, and this is all sorted.”

They didn’t look convinced, and Gen didn’t blame them. Some stranger he’s met once? But the more Gen thought about it, the more he considered it, the more it felt… right. It was like something was clicking into place; some puzzle piece he hadn’t been aware was stuck down the back of the dresser, finally being found. 

“We might as well try,” Ukyo admitted. “If he is, great. And if not, you can keep looking. It’s somewhere to start, at the very least.”

Gen nodded, looking up to Ryusui for his approval. 

“It can’t hurt.” Ryusui beamed and pulled out his phone. “What’s his name? We can look him up online.”

“I don’t know.” Gen felt his face flare up red.

“You don’t know?” Ukyo was frowning again. “You’re convinced this guy is your Soulmate, and you never even learnt his name?”

“At the time, I thought I’d never meet him again. Not to mention that he’ll have forgotten me ages ago.”

“I think it’s just more proof that Gen is onto something,” Ryusui said, crossing his arms and nodding sagely. “He knows so little about him but is still convinced.”

He couldn’t tell whether Ryusui was being serious or just trying to make up for the argument earlier, but Gen appreciated it. And he agreed. Even with so little to go off of, Gen was sure Train-guy was his Soulmate. Suggesting the opposite sent a chill down his spine and filled him with something like dread. 

“It’s fine. He’ll be on the train; I just have to go back.” Gen stood up, determined, and moved to grab his coat.

Then he remembered that it was still eight in the morning and the train wouldn’t be leaving until eleven.

Ryusui smirked. “Getting ahead of yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“You’ve waited this long; you can wait a little longer.” He slung his arm over Gen’s shoulders and shook him gently. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Gen agreed with every inch of his being.

He couldn’t wait. He was going to go see Train-guy again. 

He was going to see his Soulmate. 

Chapter Text

Senku turned the key and the lock shut with a loud clunk, the tumblers groaning their protest. He shoved his hands and the key into his pockets and slouched off in the general direction of the metro station. 

His final attempt, huh?

After a good month of trying, knowing that this would be the last time left him with a distinct feeling of emptiness. 

He’d just wasted a month he could have spent doing… anything else, really. He could have been looking for his Soulmate, searching the city for him. He could have been enjoying his time with Taiju and Yuzuriha. He could have been at the library being productive. But no, he’d spent weeks chasing something never possible in the first place. 

There was little he could do about that now, but he was still bitter about it. 

He kicked a can out of his path with a little too much force. It skidded into a bin and scared the cat sitting on top of it. The cat scrambled onto a nearby fence and glared at him. 

Senku ignored it and kept going. He didn’t want to miss the train. 

Why was he going to the train station anyway? Sure, he’d agreed to try once more to keep Yuzuriha happy, but what was the point of following through? It’s not like she remembered him making that promise. 

Maybe he was still stuck in the routine. Still stuck in the mindset of going, just out of habit. Or maybe he was clinging to the hope that fate would finally throw him a bone and let his Soulmate actually be there, of his own accord. Maybe he’ll have the same epiphany that Senku had and come racing back to try and meet him again. 

Logically, Senku knew that getting back on the train every day was the best move he could make. It was like waiting in place as a kid when you lose your parents in a store: staying put made it easier for someone to find you. 

And Senku knew how Soulmates worked; he knew that the feeling he got every time his Soulmate crossed his thoughts was supernatural, impossible to ignore. If this man was his Soulmate, he’d come running back to where he’d met Senku too. 

But he’d been sitting on the train waiting for him to show up countless times. He’d been getting on that train even before that. How many more times could he do it before he just broke?

This would be the last time, at least for now, because Senku didn’t know if he could cope if it weren’t.

The world beyond Gen’s front door trundled along as it did every morning, time loop or no, but as Gen stepped out onto the street, he could have sworn the air was electric. 

He was vibrating with excitement. 

“Steady, Tiger,” Ryusui said, clapping a grounding hand onto Gen’s shoulder. “We still have to reach the station on time.”

“And the train doesn’t leave until eleven,” Ukyo added.

“Getting ahead of yourself isn’t going to help.”

Gen pouted. He knew they were right, but he’d been restlessly pacing his apartment for the past three hours, and that tension doesn’t just dissipate when it’s told to. 

“I’ll feel better when I’m on the platform and not a second before.” Gen forged ahead without waiting for their responses, not caring if he left them in the dust.

He heard Ryusui’s laugh behind him and beating footsteps as the two jogged to catch up. He didn’t pay them mind as they fell into step or the conversation they were having around him. 

“You know, I’ve never actually ridden a train before.”

“You… what?” Ukyo was baffled, but Gen just rolled his eyes. For as long as he’d known him, Ryusui had only ever used private cars and planes for domestic travel. 

“It’s true. It’ll be interesting seeing one.”

“You won’t be seeing anything,” Gen said. “I’m not letting you follow me onto the platform. You’re lucky I let you this far.”

“Oh, come on, Gen.” Ryusui elbowed him. “Of course, we want to be there. This is important for you! This is a Soulmate we’re talking about, and as your friend, it’s something I want to be there to support you with.”

Gen shook his head but didn’t shoot him down further. He wasn’t looking at Ryusui, but he could hear the over-eagerness in his voice and feel the tension in his arms as they brushed against his. Ryusui was doing his best, Gen could tell; he wanted to make up for that morning. 

He wouldn’t lie; Gen was still a little hurt. He wasn’t about to let it interfere with him reuniting with Train-guy, but it still stung. Even so, knowing that Ryusui regretted his actions, knowing that he was trying to fix it, to show that he wants to be there in the way Gen needs him to be, had a warmth spreading through Gen’s chest. 

He was so lucky to have a friend like Ryusui in his life. He was human, he made mistakes, and Gen was okay with that, but it wasn’t every day that you met someone so willing to put everything aside to make you happy.

He’d thought it a thousand times, but Ryusui was far too good for him. Gen could never be what he deserved, but he was too selfish to let him go. 

But… that wasn’t quite right anymore, was it? He had a Soulmate now; he could finally get past all of his hang-ups and be everything he should have been up to that point.

Just another half an hour and everything could go back to how it used to be.

The station was far more populated than the streets had been, and for Senku, it was a relief to be able to merge into a crowd. A constantly moving environment more than sufficed as a distraction from the stream of irritating thoughts still rattling about in his head. 

For as repetitive as getting through this station had grown, weaving through people, bumping shoulders, passing gate after gate after gate, it was at least something he had to concentrate on.

It may have been brief, but even brief respite was still respite. 

Senku found his way onto the platform faster than he would have liked and leaned against one of the pillars to wait for the train to arrive. He reached for his phone to scroll through the same page he looked at every morning but then remembered that he didn’t have to do that anymore. 

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. 

While his mood was sour, his morning had been otherwise pleasant. His head may have been throbbing after he was thrown out of bed that morning, but it quickly subsided when he remembered that he didn’t need to follow ‘the routine’ anymore.

Senku had eaten rice for breakfast that morning. He’d dug around the kitchen until he’d unearthed their ancient rice cooker and eaten something that wasn’t toast. It had been glorious. If Senku ever ate toast again, it would be too soon. 

The spontaneity, the lack of planning and thought that had gone into that decision, was liberating. It was change, and change was something Senku hadn’t experienced in far too long. 

But then again, the constants, the same-ness of everything, brought a unique brand of comfort. It was worrying how well he’d adjusted to the time loop. Knowing exactly what would happen every day, not having to deal with unexpected or unpleasant variables, eliminated an everyday stress. He could walk into a conversation with Yuzuriha and Taiju or Byakuya and know where it would go, what he needed to say to shut them down quickly or say what he needed them to. Senku had never been fussed about social etiquette but the removal of that human anxiety of messing up or making a fool of yourself…

How would he cope once he got out?

It was inevitable; even if it took millennia, Senku would one day meet his Soulmate and escape this nightmare. But would he be okay once it ended? How would he adjust?

Senku had been so focused on getting out that he hadn’t given much thought to what came after. He supposed he assumed everything would go back to how it had been, but it can’t really, not after this. 

Although, it wasn’t all bad. It’s not like he’d have to go through it alone. There was someone else out there, a certain someone with eyes that could have swindled the mountains out of the earth, that was experiencing this too. Someone who would only be free of it once they met again, properly this time. Someone with whom Senku knew he would always belong next to. 

Someone that would make all of this worth it.

As the train finally pulled up, Senku was doing a terrible job of staying grumpy.

While he still felt a right to, and immense joy from, making fun of Ryusui’s lack of experience with the train system, Gen couldn’t deny the fact that up until he got stuck in this time loop, it had been almost a decade since he’d last had to use public transport. 

Gen was worth nowhere near as much as Ryusui, but he earned enough money for his manager to insist on having him take private cars everywhere. It made avoiding being recognised a lot easier, that was for certain, and Gen didn’t enjoy wearing glasses he didn’t need or the three extra layers that had him sweatier than cooked onions.

Considering all this, it was hardly surprising that Gen didn’t have a rail card or an account on the train ticket apps. He didn’t see himself using the Japanese railway system much while touring the United States of America and so had opted to buy tickets instead of any of that nonsense.

Gen had used the ticket machines plenty of times since the start of the time loop, but he still hated them with a passion. 

“It’s strange that passengers have to calculate how much their own fare is,” Ryusui said, staring in awe at the railway map on the wall and watching as Gen poked at the touchscreen. “Doesn’t it make more sense to program the machine to do that for you?”

“It’s an old system,” Ukyo said, shrugging. “Most people just use their phones now. Why update a technology nobody uses?” 

“I need another hundred yen.”

Ukyo pulled some spare change from his pocket and dropped it into Gen’s hand.

Ryusui’s eyes lit up at the sight of the coins. “I’ve never actually used change to pay for anything.”

“There’s a lot of mundane things you’ve never done,” Gen stated, slotting the last coin he needed into the machine. “Nothing is stopping you from doing it.”

“It’s just change.” Ukyo smiled. “It’s nothing special.”

“But they’re so small.” Ryusui picked up one of the coins Gen had set down. “I don’t know where mine end up. I daresay Françoise does something with them.”

After an unnecessary amount of faffing around with unresponsive touchscreens, the machine finally spat out Gen’s ticket.

Now the only things that stood between him and Train-guy were the ticket gates and time. Gen looked at the ticket and let it sink in that he was really about to go and meet his Soulmate. He was about to meet his funny, quick-witted, gorgeous and outrageously intelligent Soulmate. To think that he would ever have a chance with someone like that, that fate itself would ever think he deserved to have someone like that in his life…

At least Gen thought Train-guy was his Soulmate. He’d never met anyone who’d thrown him so completely off his feet before, and it was explicitly abnormal to be infatuated with a complete stranger. 

But what if he was wrong? What if he’d leapt at the idea of Soulmates prematurely to explain these weird feelings, to give him a way out, a simple explanation and fix-all solution? 

Or what if they are Soulmates, but Train-guy doesn’t want him in return? He had been pretty sure Train-guy was into him; he put up with talking to a complete stranger for twenty minutes. But… what if he wasn’t into him this time? Train-guy will have forgotten him entirely by now. What if he makes a bad impression? What if he says something stupid or offensive or creepy? What if Train-guy just doesn’t believe him? Gen knows he wouldn’t believe someone he doesn’t know claiming to be his Soulmate. That would be insane. 

Gen startled as a large hand landed heavily on his shoulder. 

“You’re going to rip your ticket in half,” Ryusui said, taking it from him. Gen hadn’t even realised how tightly he was gripping it. “You’re getting worked up, aren’t you?”

He pouted. “No.”

Ryusui rolled his eyes and shook Gen’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, you’re worrying over nothing.”

“It’s a bit of a habit of yours,” Ukyo added, snickering when Gen turned to glare at him. “Ryu’s right. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Considering how he’d just come up with an extensive list, Gen could have answered that question easily, but he figured this wasn’t the time. 

“The worst isn’t going to happen,” Ryusui said. “This guy’s your Soulmate; he’ll be thrilled with you no matter what. He’s gonna be damn lucky to have you, and he can get fucked if he doesn’t realise it. But he will. Because no one can be that blind.”

Gen blinked up at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know what was more concerning: that Ryusui could read him so accurately or that he was being so vulnerable with them today. Maybe he’d just been stuck in this time loop long enough that his energy had been so thoroughly depleted that he couldn’t keep up his guard. 

Either way, in the end, it didn’t matter. The familiar grin and warm hand on his shoulder had a warmth spreading through Gen’s chest and drained the static buzzing through his brain. 

“You’re going to miss the train if you don’t go soon,” Ukyo said, taking the ticket off of Ryusui and giving it back to Gen. “It’ll be fine.”

“Better than fine,” Ryusui insisted, pushing Gen towards the gates. “Now go get ’im. And call us when you’re done.”

Gen stumbled forward and looked back at his friends, both watching expectantly for him to leave.

He smiled. He really didn’t deserve these two.

"See you later.”

He waved and ran off to the ticket gate, following the winding halls to where he knew the train with his Soulmate would arrive in a matter of minutes.

The train trundled along, the rumbling of the wheels on the tracks echoing throughout the train car. The carriage was as sparse as usual, and Senku was sitting in the same seat he always took. 

He’d sat in that same seat every day since the time loop started, but most importantly, he’d been sitting in this seat just over four weeks ago when his Soulmate waltzed onto the train carriage, loudly complaining into his phone.

Senku could still remember it with vivid clarity: the confusion, the curiosity, the burning embarrassment. It had been so strange, being so drawn to another person. It was a foreign feeling, and while he understood it now, it didn’t stop the sensation from being bizarre.

Would it be the same when he met his Soulmate again? Would his eye still be drawn to him? Compelled to observe every minute change to his expression, calculated but relaxed; the movement of his fingers, long and nimble and restless; even the rhythm of his breathing. 

Or would the magic be gone? With the trick revealed, the curtain drawn back, would Senku view him like any other person?

No. 

He could say that with confidence, and not only because this person was his Soulmate. 

Senku grimaced. He was letting himself grow hopeful. It was dangerous; he knew that. He desperately wanted to look up when the train drew into the station and see his Soulmate climb aboard, looking for him. He wanted this to be over. He wanted to settle and be happy and forget all the other bullshit in his life. And it all hinged on this moment, a moment he was convinced wouldn’t happen.

And still, the hope festered, small but sure. 

But what about afterwards? If those doors opened and he didn’t walk through, what would happen then? This was his last attempt. He was giving up after this…

Was that wrong? Was that cowardly? The idea left Senku feeling guilty, like he was abandoning something precious, something important. Probably because he was. 

But he needed a break. He needed to take a step back and think about it. Because no matter how badly he’d deal with it afterwards, he’d have to be an idiot to realise he wasn’t dealing with it well now. 

But still, there was hope. And it wasn’t dead yet.

The voice over the speakers announced the name of the next station.

Senku took a deep breath and prepared himself.

The train let out a hiss as it stopped, the whole carriage shuddering as the brakes clamped shut and the doors groaned open.

It was time. 

He could hear the racket of the train around the corner. It was here. 

Gen bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to keep still. He turned the ticket around with his fingers but stopped abruptly when he saw the lights pierce through the darkness.

A soft squeal pierced through the platform as the train hit the brakes, pulling to a practised stop in line with the gates.

Beyond the windows, Gen could see people waiting to get off, and others crowded around, ready to board.

The doors opened. 

Gen had never been more ready for anything in his life. 

It took every ounce of his self-restraint not to shove everyone out of the way in his quest to board as quickly as possible. It was finally happening, and no one was getting in the way. All he had to do was pass these doors, and there would be…

No one.

Gen blinked at the empty seat in front of him. The seat he knew Train-guy had been sat in before. He could remember it vividly: how his gaze had been dragged over to Train-guy like a magnet even as he complained at Ryusui through the phone. He’d sat as close as he could without being awkward.

Gen collapsed into the seat he’d taken last time, unsure of what else to do as the train doors closed behind him and threatened to move on before he’d found purchase. 

He stared into the empty seat two down from him. 

He remembered catching Train-guy staring at him, although Gen had blatantly been doing the same thing. The way he’d panicked and turned back to press his nose to his phone, a violent blush on his face. The best part was the obvious conflict running through his mind, signposted over his face in ways only Gen would have been able to spot. It was rare to meet someone so subtle in their expressions yet obviously unpractised. Watching the slight movements in Train-guy’s face, the fractional widening of his eyes when Gen had initiated contact, the slow adjustment of his body language from flustered to absolute comfort as they talked, the way his whole person seemed to illuminate when they brought up his studies. 

And now it was all missing. 

Had Gen done something wrong? Was he just on the wrong train? The wrong station? Wrong time? No, no, he had that right. He’d triple-checked all of it before setting foot out of his building. 

Had there been some tiny action in his day that prompted Train-guy’s appearance, coincidence the only reason Gen was present to witness it?

No, that was so improbable as to be entirely written off. Gen had spent that entire morning in his apartment trying to ignore Ryusui and Ukyo’s babying and praying for the clock to pick up the pace. What could he have possibly done to change the routine of a complete stranger so drastically? 

And then it hit him. 

Soulmates were a shared experience; bond marks showed up in pairs. What would the point of all this be if his Soulmate weren’t also in the time loop?

At the very least, this meant he’d been correct. Train-guy had to be his Soulmate. If he wasn’t, Gen would be chattering away to him right then, setting himself up for disappointment. 

Gen ran his hands through his hair and slumped back in his seat. He was such an idiot. How could he have ever assumed this would be simple? Things just don’t work out that well in life, at least not in his. 

But that’s all right. It doesn’t matter. Just because it didn’t go the way he planned this time didn’t mean it wouldn’t go right eventually. He hadn’t built his career in a day; he was used to having to work for what he wanted. This was no different. 

Something as good, as wonderful as a Soulmate deserved his every last ounce of effort, and Gen knew it would be worth it in the end. He just had to try.

Right?

It was the best he could do to convince himself.

Chapter Text

The apartment was predictably silent when Senku returned home; the midday sun seeped through the windows and cast a pale, dull light over the room. It was still dark despite the sun shining beyond the clouds, leaving the place feeling distinctly alien.

Although that may have just been Senku. 

He made a beeline for his bedroom and threw himself on top of his covers without bothering to pull his coat off. His keys jangled in his pocket and stabbed his side as he fell on top of them, but he didn't care. He lay still, not even bothering to shift his weight to ease the pain. 

It was dumb. He was dumb. But Senku couldn't shake the overwhelming dread that enveloped him when those doors opened and closed with no sign of his Soulmate. 

There was officially nothing he could do anymore. Nothing meaningful, anyway. He had asked the universe a question, and it had given its answer. He was the only one at fault if it was an answer he didn't like. 

Senku knew that crawling into bed wasn't the logically sound reaction. He should have returned to the plan Yuzuriha had laid out for him: searching, spreading his horizons, going places he wouldn't usually. He should have continued to get on that train and get on with his life until fate finally decided it was time to sort it out. 

The very idea of it made him feel queasy. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Senku ignored it.

Then it buzzed again. 

And again. 

Eventually, Senku groaned and fished it out of his coat, finally shucking it onto the floor next to his bed. He clicked the phone on and saw a couple of texts from Yuzuriha asking where he was, which explained the buzzing, and a barrage from Taiju, who he usually kept on silent.

He'd forgotten to tell them.

Senku slammed his face back into his pillow. Of course, he'd forgotten. That was just typical. He'd been so engrossed in his self-pity that he'd neglected to tell his closest friends that he would be ditching them to lie in bed all day.

Yet more guilt to add to the pile.

He flinched when the phone began to ring, vibrating under his hand. After a few moments, it fell silent again as the call went through. 

Senku wasn't sure he could talk to them. Not like this. Not when he couldn't force himself to act on logic, letting his emotions get the better of him. Not when he'd let them down like this. It didn't matter if they wouldn't remember in the morning. Senku would remember.

The phone began to ring again, and Senku relented and answered the call.

"Hey," he grumbled, face still half buried in his pillow, the phone sitting next to his head. 

"Senku?" Yuzuriha's voice rang through the speaker, tinny over the line. Senku's phone was old, and the sound quality was garbage, but it did its job. "Where are you? Are you okay? You don't sound it."

"Senku!" Taiju yelled over the phone. Senku gritted his teeth as its sheer force threatened to shake the whole bed. "Are you alright? Your coffee's getting cold."

Senku sighed. He would have killed for that coffee any other day, but right then, he couldn't muster up any appetite. The thought of putting something in his mouth was almost as sickening as getting back on that train. 

"I'm at home."

"Did your alarm not go off?" Yuzuriha asked. 

His current alarm consisted of his forehead smashing against his nightstand, so there was no way it would fail to wake him up. Seven am sharp, every time. 

"No."

"Huh? Then why are you at home?"

"Because I went home."

"Why?"

Senku opened his mouth to explain, to rattle off all the shit about Soulmates and the time loop the way he had so many times already, but something stopped him.

Trying to form the words made his chest tight. Having to voice everything that had happened, admit to all the time he'd wasted out loud, admit that he'd given up, admit that he'd lost his Soulmate, felt impossible. He knew it was all in his head. But the pit in the bottom of his stomach and the prickling behind his eyes were all too real.

Was he really on the verge of tears? Was he really that pathetic?

"Senku? Are you still there?" Yuzuriha's voice broke him out of his spiral and brought him back into a reality where he had to let his friends down for the first time since this all started. 

"I can't…" He tried to push out an excuse but even that much threatened to be too difficult, his voice catching in his throat, words raw as they scraped up his throat. "I'm gonna…" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm not great. I'm gonna stay home and sleep it off." He paused. "Sorry."

At the very least, his voice hadn't cracked. Senku knew he probably sounded like shit, he felt like shit, so it wouldn't be surprising, but he hoped that they wouldn't come looking for him. If he told Yuzuriha and Taiju that he didn't want them visiting, they wouldn't. It was part of why he got along with them so well. Unfortunately, he also knew that if he sounded like he was hiding something, they would try to force it out of him. He was obstinate and would rather die before seeking someone's help. And they knew that better than anyone. 

"Oh no, Senku! Are you sick?" Taiju exclaimed, his obvious worry serving to give Senku a headache. "Do you need us to bring you something? We could make you soup."

"No." Senku shot that down before it could go any further. "I'm not sick."

"Are you sure?" Taiju pressed. "We could bring medicine. Or a hot water bottle. We could buy the soup if that makes it better."

Senku shook his head. He appreciated the gesture; of course, he did, in theory anyway. He was finding it difficult to accept the idea that these people cared about him so much. But he couldn't face them right now. 

"No, don't. I just want to be alone."

"If you say so," Yuzuriha said, voice laced with doubt. "Are you really going to be okay?"

"I'll have to be. You guys still need to prepare, so…" Senku trailed off. It's not like it would matter. They wouldn't be making that trip anyway, at least not yet. Or maybe they would in some alternate reality he'll never live to see. That had been something he wanted to avoid. He couldn't prove whether that was happening one way or another, but it was a risk he wasn't prepared to take.

Until now, anyway. 

"All right. We'll call you tomorrow once we arrive," Yuzuriha said. "Take care of yourself."

"Yeah, we'll talk to you later," Taiju agreed, much louder and more cheerful. "Hope you get better soon."

Senku hummed in acknowledgement and lay still until he heard the call cut out.

He didn't move immediately, just staring at his now silent phone, head entirely empty.

The room was quiet. The rumbling of his old pc, the stomping about of the neighbour through the wall, the distant roar of cars. It all faded to white noise as he lay there. 

He figured it was finally time to take his shoes off. While he was at it, Senku pulled his sweats back on and ditched his socks before climbing under the covers. 

It was weird, taking a nap in the middle of the day. Senku's life had become sedentary of late, but not like this. To think he used to consider sleeping a waste of time when he could have been building, learning, experimenting. 

And here he was. Sulking. Swamped in self-pity and bogged down by immovable apathy. 

Thinking about it made him want to get out of bed even less.

Maybe that was one good thing about the time loop: he could spend as long as he wanted like this, and nothing would change. 

Senku was roused from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. The light from the hallway streamed into the room. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. 

"What do you want?"

He could hear Byakuya startle. 

"Just checking in on you." He moved to flick the bedroom light on. "Is a father not allowed to do that anymore?"

Senku bit back a remark about him not being a child and propped himself onto his elbow to find and pick up his phone from the table. The time blinked back at him. 

"You're back early," Senku said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was far too early; it was barely even dinnertime. This was the earliest he'd seen Byakuya back… ever. At least since the start of the time loop. He had no idea what it was, he'd never bothered to ask, but Byakuya had some sort of late-night engagement keeping him from that thing Lillian had going on. So why was he here?

"My last class ended an hour ago. I'm not early."

Senku shifted until he was sitting up and looking at Byakuya. He'd just arrived home, coat draped over one arm and scarf still wrapped around his neck. 

"What about office hours?"

"The kids can do without me for an evening."

"An evening in which you have a… something to do."

"Is grabbing dinner a crime now?" Byakuya shook his head and smiled, but it quickly dropped to a look of confusion. "I don't remember telling you about my meeting."

Did he not? Senku tried to remember what he'd said to Byakuya that morning. When he'd been repeating everything, he'd had to endure Byakuya's whining about Lillian every day and couldn't remember what he'd said or done. He'd just been happy to be free. 

"Your memory is fading, old man." Insulting Byakuya's age tended to get him out of most things. 

Byakuya shook his head before throwing his coat onto a hook in the hallway and entering Senku's room, letting the door shut behind him.

Senku furrowed his brow. "Do you need something? I was a little busy," he said, gesturing at the bed.

The springs squeaked as Byakuya sat down by Senku's feet, ignoring him. He looked at Senku with an unsettling seriousness, softened by concern.

Senku was confused. 

"Are you feeling alright?" Byakuya asked, leaning forward, unperturbed by Senku's bewilderment. 

"Why?"

Byakuya paused for a moment, picking his words carefully. Senku didn't much like the look of that. If Byakuya felt he needed to find a delicate way to say something, that couldn't mean it was good. "You seemed… off this morning."

"More so than usual?"

Byakuya rolled his eyes. "Yes, Senku, more so than usual." He took a deep breath and sat up straight. "You've been distant lately, especially this morning. I don't remember the last time I saw you so… agitated."

Senku raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He knew that Byakuya, more than anyone, had been concerned about him over the past year, but he'd thought he'd be the most likely to let him figure it out himself.

"I know you don't like to talk to me about these things, but I got a call from Yuzuriha today. If you aren't talking to her and Taiju about this, then it must be pretty bad."

Senku groaned and flopped back onto the bed. That rat. He never could have predicted that she'd pull the most underhanded trick in the book: telling a parent. 

"Senku, it's obvious that you're upset about something."

"Yeah, and?" Senku spat back, mood quickly dropping back to how it had been before he'd fallen asleep. He'd almost forgotten about it all with Byakuya distracting him, but the events from that morning came rushing back all at once. The sheer grief invaded his every nook and cranny in an instant.

Why couldn't Byakuya have let him stay asleep? Sleep felt a lot less depressing than this. 

"And you know as well as anyone that keeping it to yourself isn't a good idea."

"Doesn't mean I have to talk to you about it."

"But you won't even tell your friends, and they're leaving in the morning. Do you even have anyone else to tell?"

Wow, way to hit him right where it hurts. Senku didn't need to be reminded of that just then, not when he was lamenting the idea of being entirely alone and bored out of his mind for decades to come. 

"I can figure it out on my own," he grumbled, turning his head to stare at the wall. 

"Senku, please," Byakuya said, leaning to try and fit into Senku's periphery. "You don't have to do this on your own. I'm your father; helping you is a part of the job description."

"I don't need your help." Finally fed up, Senku got out of bed and began to push Byakuya up and off the bed. "And I don't want you in here."

Byakuya stumbled as he let Senku push him towards the door. They both knew that if Byakuya didn't want to leave, Senku wasn't strong enough to make him. "It's okay to depend on people from time to time."

Senku sneered as he finally pushed Byakuya across the threshold. "Why would I want to depend on someone who's barely around?" He clicked his tongue and shook his head, ignoring the shocked look on Byakuya's face. "Whatever. G'night."

He shut the door with much more force than was necessary and sighed, relieved to finally be alone.

He grimaced as he walked to his window to draw the blinds, regret piling on top of the guilt and emptiness. He shouldn't have said that. He barely knew where it had come from. He didn't realise he was quite so bitter about Byakuya's constant trips. Senku was an adult, and he didn't need to get in a tizzy about what his father did with his life. 

Senku sighed. He really was pathetic, wasn't he?

He turned the lights off before locking his door and crawling into bed, drawing the covers over his head. 

This would be so much better — so much easier — to deal with if he could hurry up and find his Soulmate. Then he could leave this stupid time loop bullshit behind him and get on with his life, figure out his shit, and get back to doing what he loved. 

So he told himself. 

But doing that would require getting out of bed. It would require getting dressed and being presentable, and going outside.

It would require getting on that train again. 

He sighed and settled down, curling up and screwing his eyes shut to force himself to stop thinking about this shit and go to sleep. He could deal with all of that tomorrow. Or the day after. Or even the day after that.

It's not like it mattered anyway. He wasn't losing time, was he?

At this point, he was starting to wonder what, if anything, really mattered when this was what his existence was shaping up to be. 

Chapter Text

There are a lot of things in life that you don’t fully appreciate until you’re forced to work around them. Like how you don’t realise how much stuff you own until you have to move it all into a van. Or how big a research assignment is until you’ve left all the work until the night before it’s due.

In that way, Gen had never realised how many people lived in his city until he had to find one among millions.

His cheek smushed against the window, the December chill seeping into his skin through the glass as he watched the people walk beyond it. The sun threatened to set soon, the weak light shifting from white to yellow.

How many faces were there? He couldn’t even see them all from where he was. People facing away, wearing masks or glasses, or obscured by the volume of the crowd.

He wouldn’t miss his Soulmate, though, would he? The way he drew the eye was magnetic. Gen didn’t think he’d be capable of it.

So why couldn’t he find him?

“You’re fogging up the glass.”

Gen blinked and glanced to where Ukyo was looking down at him, a bemused smile pulling at his mouth.

Ukyo wasn’t wrong. Clouded condensation obscured his view, his breath gathering in drops and snaking in rivulets down the window. Gen looked behind him into the clothing store where Ryusui was paying for his purchases. Three large bags were draped over his arm, and he was on the verge of being suckered into buying something sitting by the register.

Gen sighed and pulled the sleeve of his sweater over his hand, rubbing the glass clean. Well, not clean, the streaks of his breath remained, but Gen didn’t care as he planted his face back against the cool surface.

Ukyo’s smile stayed but soured with concern. “Whatcha doing?”

“People watching.”

“Oh yeah?” Ukyo followed Gen’s gaze out onto the busy street. “There’s plenty to choose from.”

Gen nodded but didn’t say anything further.

This was one of the busiest streets around. Thousands of people passed down it every day. Unfortunately, it was the same few thousand people every time he looked.

How long had he been looking now? Gen couldn’t remember. It must have been weeks, but time was so difficult to track when nothing remained to mark the passing of it. Or the lack thereof. That wasn’t a bad thing, Gen supposed. He had all the time in the world at his disposal. The universe made sure of that and reminded Gen of it with every corner he turned.

It would be worth it when he found his Soulmate. He knew it would be.

It had to be.

Why else was he here, otherwise?

Gen blinked and realised the glass had fogged up again. He couldn’t see anymore.

He didn’t bother to wipe it clean this time.

“All done.” Ryusui’s voice rang from above, the scraping of paper accenting his movements. “We ready to move on? I thought we might grab something to eat. It won’t be long until this thing starts.”

Would Gen need another excuse not to go? It wouldn’t be difficult to convince them that he wasn’t feeling well, judging from how his friends looked at him.

It didn’t matter what they thought. They’d forget it. Gen rose to his feet and shoved his hands back into his pockets, eyes still trained on the street.

Neither of them made to move, though.

Gen looked over and found them still looking at him. Had they said something? Was he that out of it?

Who was Gen kidding? He’d been out of it since this thing started.

“Food sounds good,” he said, hoping it would pacify them.

They didn’t look pacified, but they did at least move on, the bell above the door tinkling as they left.

He let Ukyo and Ryusui lead the way through the busy street, their combined figures cutting a neat path in the crowds for Gen to follow. His attention was elsewhere, scanning his surroundings, noting the absence of his Soulmate. Gen knew that he was willing to wait forever for this, for his escape. But how long would forever be?

He’d always been a patient person, one couldn’t survive in his field without at least a little of it, but he found himself antsy now.

Desperate.

Unsure.

Up ahead, his friends were muttering to each other. Gen didn’t miss the worried looks they threw back at him; they weren’t subtle about it. But he also didn’t miss how their hands had slotted together the second they left the store. How their shoulders bumped as they leaned into each other’s warmth with the familiarity of two people in love.

It made his stomach wrench.

That’s what was waiting for him. It would be his.

Soon, hopefully.

Right?

Then why did he feel so sick thinking about it?

It was a bondmark. These things were set in stone. It was supposed to be the easiest thing in the world, as certain as the rising sun or the sky above him.

But was it?

Gen didn’t realise he’d stopped moving until someone jostled him from behind, saying something rude.

How could something so certain feel so utterly out of reach?

Gen panicked when he felt the welling of tears behind his eyes and ducked out of the street into the first alley he could find. He tried to control his breathing. It’s not like this was the first time he’d done this. How many times had he fought back tears before?

They wouldn’t fall.

He wouldn’t let them.

“Gen?”

It was Ryusui. Or Ukyo? He couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered. Gen continued down the dark alley, emerging onto the next street over, and he didn’t look back.

Facing those two was bad enough on a good day.

Maybe he should have felt guilty about ditching them. It was wrong. They cared about him, worried about him so much. All of it was misplaced but still genuine, and this was what Gen did with it?

Although, the pit opening in his stomach dwarfed any feeling of guilt. His soul could have slipped through, and he wouldn’t have been surprised.

Gen wasn’t aware of where he was going, wandering around the city. Maybe his Soulmate would be around the next bend, in the window of the next store he looked in. That would have been too easy, though. All Gen got was an insistent buzzing in his pocket.

He didn’t turn it off. He didn’t even bother to pull it out.

The sun started setting in earnest after a while. The pale yellow now burning gold and reflecting off of every available surface. The cold settled in, too, no longer a nip at his fingers but a discomfort seeping through his flesh and leaving him shivering.

Gen finally stopped beside a river. Looking back, he must have been following it for a while. The throngs of people still occupying the street pushed him up against the railing, and he looked down to the water far below him.

A couple of small boats puttered along the murky river, caked with the silt of urbanisation but still glittering in the setting sun like a tarnished mirror. There was a bridge up ahead and, before it, a stairwell.

The space under the bridge looked dark.

Gen pushed through the wall of people and stole into the gap in the railing, looking down the narrow steps. They led to the damp and muddy riverbank, a few particularly disused boats moored to the stone walls. It was a chore to pick his way down, but no one said anything to him as he descended and the thrum of people above grew muffled the further he went.

His feet finally landed in the slush of mud splashed across the concrete, the squelch underfoot oddly satisfying.

Gen finally took a deep breath. The smell of stagnant water and festering algae met his nostrils, but the cool air felt like liberation to his lungs.

He followed the riverbank further, careful on the slippery path, until the bridge loomed overhead, the dark shadow cloaking him from the view of passing pedestrians.

It was a little damper than Gen might have liked, but it was isolated.

He curled up behind a large concrete pillar.

It was easier to clear his mind down there. The chill spreading up through his legs was a pleasant distraction from the pit still growing in his gut.

With the rush of emotion slowing down to a trickle, Gen realised how rash he’d been. Running away was what children did. He was supposed to be a better friend than this. Rational adults didn’t let impossible, defeatist thoughts jerk them into fight or flight.

But dismissing those thoughts was easier said than done.

Had he done something wrong? Upset the wrong person? Put a foot out of line? Something to deserve this?

Happiness had been right there. An escape from everything that hurt him the most laid out on a silver platter, and he’d lost it. Thrown to the floor and smashed to pieces, trampled underfoot.

Would he ever meet his Soulmate? Had he lost him? If it took too long, would fate decide to take this away from him and break the bond of its own accord? Would his life never go back to normal, to a point where he could look at his best friend and feel anything but sick to his stomach?

“Gen?”

Gen jolted to attention. He looked up and winced at the sight of a piercing flashlight.

“What are you doing?”

He recognised Ryusui’s voice before he saw him. He lowered the flashlight on his phone and stepped forward, cloaked in the evening darkness. Gen hadn’t noticed it getting so dark. How long had he been there? It felt like he’d only just arrived.

“Sitting,” he replied, tightening his grasp around his legs.

“Yeah, but under a bridge?” Ryusui looked around, shining the torch up the pillar and across the underside of the road. “How’d you end up down here?”

Gen buried his face in his knees. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Seeing that Gen wouldn’t move any time soon, Ryusui sat next to him. “Find a friend. I knew it would come in handy.”

Frowning, Gen dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. The traitor. He dropped it on the concrete next to him and rested his face so it pointed away from Ryusui.

They sat in silence for some time. Gen wasn’t sure whether the quiet was a welcome thing. He fiddled with the hem of his sweater as he waited for Ryusui to say something, the anticipation ballooning with every passing second.

Would Ryusui understand if he tried to explain? He wanted to believe that his friend would take his word for it, but Gen had already seen what happened when he tried to talk about this insanity. At some point, Ryusui’s patience for him had reached a tipping point and was still teetering on top of it.

And Gen was afraid to see how little force it would take to push him over.

He jumped as Ryusui nudged him. “I can’t be the only one getting deja-vu?”

Gen shrugged.

“Don’t you remember? When we were kids, you’d run away when you started crying, and I’d always find you hiding under the bridge in the park.” Ryusui chuckled at the memory, but Gen clenched his teeth.

He remembered it vividly.

That cramped hole was always dirty and wet, but the river was loud enough that it drowned out the sound of his sobs. If he forced himself in far enough, no one would ever know he was there.

Except for Ryusui, of course.

He remembered how Ryusui would wade through the river water to find him. The way Ryusui would pry his hands out and pull until he fell into the mud beside him, too stubborn to move. How Ryusui would kneel next to him, clothes stained beyond repair and hands slick with grime, and hug him until the tears subsided.

But most of all, he remembered how the sound of Ryusui’s footsteps, the sloshing of him wading through water, was a sound of comfort. A sign that things were about to get better, that his lifeline had arrived.

It wasn’t fair. Once upon a time, his friend had been the thing to make everything better. Now he was back under that bridge in middle school; Ryusui had come for him, and he felt nothing but dread.

“Come on, Gen. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He could hear Ryusui’s resigned sigh, the shuffling as he turned to look at Gen in the darkness.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asked. Gen didn’t need to meet his gaze to recognise the hurt behind the question.

Gen didn’t respond.

“I don’t like seeing you like this. I’m your friend. It’s what I’m here for.”

Was he doing this on purpose? With every word, the guilt weighed down heavier and heavier. Gen didn’t want this. He didn’t want to push Ryusui away. But he couldn’t deal with it right then.

Why wouldn’t he leave?

“I just want to help.”

“You could help by going away,” Gen snapped.

Ryusui didn’t respond, the air growing thick around them.

“Gen, please don’t be like this. I care about you. Is that so unreasonable?”

Gen rolled his eyes. “Considering that your idea of caring about me is butting your nose into my business when I don’t want you to, then yeah, maybe.”

“I don’t—” Ryusui stuttered. “I don’t do that.”

Gen scoffed. “You let yourself into my apartment this morning. While I was still asleep.” He finally braved meeting Ryusui’s dumbfounded stare. He would have felt bad about it, but he couldn’t think straight beyond wanting to be left alone. “You show up and strong-arm me into whatever takes your fancy.”

“You’ve never complained about it,” Ryusui said, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?”

Gen opened his mouth to reply but abruptly closed it, realising what an honest answer would mean. “That doesn’t mean you can traipse into my home whenever you want. When was the last time you showed up because I invited you?”

“Good fucking question.” Ryusui drew back, shoulders rigid and arms crossing over his chest. “You never call anymore. Or text. Or… or anything. If I don’t force my way into your life, you don’t let me in at all.”

Gen paused, blinking up at Ryusui. “What?” He shook his head. “No, that’s not—”

“No, Gen. The last time you called me was months ago. My best friend’s acting like he doesn’t want to know me; what am I supposed to think? What am I supposed to do?”

Was that true? Had it been that long? Now that he was being called out like this, Gen couldn’t deny it. He thought he’d picked up the habit of avoiding his friends since the time loop started, but no. He’s been like this much longer than that.

“Was it something I did? Something I said?” Ryusui ran his hands roughly through his hair, pushing himself to his feet and pacing. “I swear — maybe I’m being paranoid, but it feels like you’ve been distant for years. Like, I’m only noticing now because you’re always pushing me away.”

“It’s not like that.” Gen tried to speak, but Ryusui wasn’t listening.

“I don’t get it, Gen? Why?” He paused and looked down at Gen, expression both beseeching and angry. “What did I do? If you don’t like me anymore, I’d rather you told me than… whatever this shit is.”

“Shut up,” Gen finally yelled, jumping to his feet too. “Don’t be such an idiot. Of course, I like you. That’s the whole fucking problem!”

The buzzing frustration and panic were so much that it took Gen a second to register what he’d said.

It only took a moment longer for Ryusui to realise what it meant.

“You… huh?” His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. His face passed from shock to confusion to dawning realisation with each blink.

“Wait, so you — are you serious? Is that why…”

But then his brow furrowed in thought and, finally, pulled all the way down until his expression looked nothing short of offended.

“Wait, what the fuck? That’s why you—”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so pushy,” Gen interrupted, loudly cutting him off.

Ryusui drew back, thrown off. “Huh?”

Blood was rushing through his ears, his breaths coming faster. He couldn’t let Ryusui talk. He couldn’t let him say it. Not now. Not ever. Words started pouring from Gen’s mouth with reckless abandon, filling any available gap so Ryusui couldn’t get a word in.

“You never give me any space or let me think for half a second. You micromanage my life and treat me like I can’t do anything on my own. If you’d just give me a bit of privacy one in a blue moon, I wouldn’t have to stay at work longer than I want. Or invent things to keep me busy so I can breathe without you hovering around my head like a helicopter.”

Ryusui let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “Are you trying to blame me for this?”

“So much of it is your fault,” Gen said, jabbing Ryusui in the chest. “If you weren’t such a control freak, I wouldn't be in this mess. You’re in my room every morning, wrenching open my curtains, shoving food down my mouth, dragging me around for hours every fucking day. If you weren’t always there, putting me on edge from the second I wake up to the second I fall asleep, then I would have figured this out sooner.”

Gen paused to catch his breath, panting and balling his fists in his sweater, pulling it to breaking point.

“I wouldn’t have spent so long trying to get away from you and having a life. I would have known what was going on. I wouldn’t have missed him. He wouldn’t have gotten away. I wouldn’t have lost him.”

Gen’s voice faded more and more until it died. As the cold wind picked up and bit at his cheeks, Gen realised he was crying. He began to scrub the tears away, fighting back the shuddering sobs and hating how weak and pathetic he felt.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“What are you talking about?” Ryusui asked, face scrunched up in confusion. “How does this have anything to do with your feelings for me?”

Gen’s breath hitched.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He had to get away. Far away.

Now.

Ignoring Ryusui, Gen turned and ran.

“Gen, wait!”

He darted back across the riverbank to the steps and leapt up them two at a time. He didn’t care about how dangerous it was; he wanted to escape. Behind him, he could hear Ryusui chasing him, his feet splatting against the mud. But then there was a squelch and a thud as he slipped in the dark.

He felt bad for not turning to see if Ryusui was okay, but not bad enough to stop. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he bolted down the street and dodged into the first alley he could find, unwilling to give Ryusui any time to recover and find him.

Gen didn’t stop there. He kept running until every breath felt like sandpaper down his throat, and his muscles screamed at him to stop. When they gave up, he collapsed in a heap against the side of a building. His breaths came hard and deep, but as they began to die down, they could no longer keep the tears at bay.

He buried his head in his hands and wailed, glad for the privacy of the alley and the roar of traffic drowning him out.

This had always been inevitable. He’d known it from the start. And still, he couldn’t quite believe it had happened.

Of course, Ryusui would never accept it. Of course, he’d be angry. Gen had intruded on his life for years, bringing this disgusting, selfish side to every interaction. Even after Ukyo had entered the picture. Ryusui had every right to feel betrayed. To hate him.

Gen already did. He knew how easy it was.

The tears started to subside, giving way to deep, shaky breaths.

At least this time, he didn’t have his phone buzzing away in his pocket. He’d left it under the bridge. Ryusui couldn’t track him without it, which was definitely a blessing.

There was no way he could face Ryusui again, not after that.

He didn’t have a choice in the matter, though.

Once he recovered enough to be steady on his feet, Gen got up and started wandering like he had back on that first night. It felt like an eternity ago now. To think back then, his biggest problem had been dealing with his manager in the morning.

That morning had never come, though. He still didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Gen didn’t know what time it was when he finally worked up the courage to return home. It was late; he knew that much. He gulped when he turned the corner and saw his building looming above him. Would Ryusui or Ukyo be waiting for him inside? Would they be staking the place out, trying to catch him as he tried to retire for the night?

He could always stay outside all night. Wait until seven ticked over, and he woke up back in his bed as nothing had happened.

…But a lot had happened. So much. If no one else remembered, would that make it better? If a tree fell with no one around to hear it, did it make a sound?

That wasn’t quite right, though, was it? Train-guy remembered the time loop.

Gen let the thought of his Soulmate calm him down. This would all be worth it eventually, right?

Right?

He entered the building.

A few minutes later, he was facing his front door again, and his hand hesitated over the handle. What was he going to do if one of them was inside? Walk back out? Maybe if he was quiet enough, they’d be asleep, and he would escape without them noticing.

Gen took a deep breath and opened the door.

It was empty.

The tension seeped out of his shoulders, and Gen kicked the door shut behind him, locking it tight and leaving the key in the door.

He flicked on the light and saw a small piece of paper on the kitchen countertop. Picking it up, Gen could see the unmistakable scrawl of Ukyo’s handwriting. He screwed it up into a ball without reading it and dropped it in the bin.

He didn’t bother changing out of his clothes before crawling into bed. The clock read three am, which didn’t surprise him, and at least meant that he would likely fall asleep soon.

He didn’t.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the fight, Ryusui’s face, the anger and disgust. He kept rewinding it, reliving the moment, reminding himself over and over again of how pointless it was. How stupid he’d been, how naïve.

Then he thought about running away, how Ryusui had fallen in the pursuit. Was he okay? Was that why the apartment was empty? Because he was hurt? Was he in the hospital right now, thinking about how Gen hadn’t even turned around to see that he was okay?

Gen would never know.

He curled up tighter, hugging the pillow to his chest and waiting for sleep to overcome him.

…

“Rise and shine!”

Nothing could have prepared Gen for the clock ticking over, waking up without having slept a wink. Ryusui turned around to smile at him, and all Gen could think about was his scowl. His yelling.

“Hey, what’s up?” Ryusui paused, noticing Gen’s obvious distress.

Gen closed his eyes and schooled himself into something controllable. It only had to last until he could run away.

He forced a smile. He knew it was weak from the frown still pulling at Ryusui’s face. It took Gen every last shred of effort to ignore the images that brought.

“I’m fine.”

Ryusui hesitated. “You sure?”

“Yep.” Gen nodded, knuckles clenching white in the sheets pooling around him. “Just tired.”

Chapter Text

The sun was just rising through his window. The sky was dyed a light pink, the night above fading into paler hues as a dawn that never came threatened to break. 

Senku reached over and clicked the light on his alarm clock.

6:57

He sighed and sat back against his pillows. His bed covers pooled around his waist, crinkled with use, and provided enough warmth that it was too much of a hassle to grab a jumper. 

It would be draped over his desk chair again in a few minutes, anyway. 

He looked at the clock again. 

6:59

He turned on his side and watched the seconds count up to the minute. Each second seemed to take longer than the last. Despite being digital, he could feel each second tick in his head, echoing in his ears and rattling his bones. 

Well, it was time.

Senku braced himself. 

Thunk.

Senku hissed as his skull collided with the bedside table. He found that he could avoid yelling if he was ready for it. When he yelled about it, Byakuya came to check on him before he could fall back asleep. 

Ignoring the broken alarm clock, he got to his feet and slid back under the covers, nursing his sore forehead as he pulled the blankets up to his nose. It had to be the day he woke up to head trauma, didn't it? 

Senku shut his eyes and tried to finally sleep. It was strange; while the time loop seemed to reset his body every morning, he was still tired if he didn't sleep. And he didn't sleep, not at night anyway.

He didn't have to feel so guilty at night. 

Senku was dozing off when he heard the knock at his door. Had he been lying there for that long? Time seemed like such a non-entity. It wasn't surprising; a man with infinite time eventually loses track of it. 

"Senku?" The door creaked open, and Byakuya pushed his head around it. At least, that's what Senku assumed he was doing. He did the same thing every morning. "I'm off to work."

Senku didn't move, pretending to be asleep. It wasn't hard. He didn't have the energy to be awake. 

After a few moments, the door shut again, and Senku rolled over to stare at the ceiling. It wasn't dark, his blinds didn't block out enough light to give him that luxury, but it was dim enough that his eyes didn't have much to adjust. 

He yawned and propped his hands behind his head, eyes stinging with the effort to stay open. The throbbing in his forehead had gone, but the shock to his system kept him awake. He yawned again and scrubbed at his eyes, watery tears smearing across his face in punishment for not being asleep. 

When was he going to stop this and go outside again? How long had it been since he went outside? He had no idea; he'd stopped counting the days by this point. A couple of weeks, maybe?

He sighed and turned over, wrapping his arms around the pillows and shifting until he was comfortable.

It could wait. 

Infinite time and all that.

Senku was recharging. This shit had been hard. His Soulmate had to give him that, at least. He probably felt the same. 

He clenched his teeth. Excuses weren't going to help.

Sleep was much less confusing. 

He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but it was still light out when he blinked the sleep from his eyes and turned away from the bright window. If the sun was still up, it had to be half-three at least.

It had been weeks since Senku had been awake at any time close to this. 

He closed his eyes again, but his mouth was dry and uncomfortable. Scowling, he sat up and swung his feet over the side of the mattress. 

Senku much preferred waking up the normal way.

He stood and padded through the hall into the kitchen, not bothering to put any extra clothes on, content to walk around in his shirt and boxers. Byakuya wouldn't be home for at least a few more hours. The laminate in the kitchen chilled his feet and woke him up a bit as he made for the cupboard to pull down a glass. 

He yawned as he filled it with tap water and took a sleepy sip, leaning against the counter.

Click.

Senku frowned, looking up at the door as he heard it unlock. 

His immediate thought was intruder, but his brain wasn't coordinated enough to simultaneously register that as a threat. The next moment the door opened and a sheet of flawless blonde hair poked through. 

"Oh, Senku!" Lillian said as she saw him. "Byakuya said you might be here." She walked in without asking permission. "Sorry to intrude, but I left my phone here this morning. Luckily it wasn't my work phone, but it's still been rather inconvenient. I'm sure you understand." She smiled genially. Senku stared back. 

Normally he would have skulked off, embarrassed by his state of dress or unwilling to be in the same room as her for any length of time. But Senku watched as she began to poke around, badly trying to ignore his presence. 

"I don't suppose you've seen it have you?" She looked up. 

He shook his head. A part of his brain was urging him to elaborate the point, but instead he clenched his glass tighter in his hand. 

Why was she here? Was she here every day?

Senku looked up at the clock. It was about half two. He was usually out with Taiju and Yuzuriha at this time, and he was always asleep while he'd been here. Had Lillian been dropping in every day since this whole thing started, and he just… didn't know?

If he'd known, he would have waited it out in his bedroom. It was a bit late for that now. 

"Oh well. It must have fallen out of my bag at some point. I could have sworn I had it on the sofa." Lillian began lifting up sofa cushions to look and ran her hands down the crevices. "Byakuya said you weren't feeling well this morning," she said as she looked. "I do hope you're feeling better now. He seemed worried."

Why was she sticking her nose in his business? Why was Byakuya sharing it with her? He supposed the obvious reason was that it was Byakuya and this was his fiancée, but still. It was annoying. 

"I'm fine."

She jumped and looked over at him. "Oh, good. I'm glad to hear it." 

If he’d had the energy to, Senku would have grimaced.

"Byakuya's always worrying about you in one way or another," she continued and moved onto the armchair, the sofa having borne no fruit. "He's always got something imaginary to fret about. I keep telling him that you're a grown adult that can handle himself, but he only half listens to me. I suppose that's what it means to be a parent, though. Not that I would know. Ah, found it!" she exclaimed as she pulled up her phone, the case a garish blue-pink thing. "But yes, it's a feat that he doesn't call you thrice a day while we're in the US; he would if I wasn't always reminding him that you're an adult with a life to get on with."

Senku narrowed his eyes but hummed in non-committal agreement. 

"I swear, I considered confiscating his phone once or twice. I don't know what I'll do when we return in February."

Senku's mind short-circuited, and the next thing he knew, his ears were full of the sounds of glass shattering and Lillian yelping.

"Senku! Are you alright?"

He looked down to see that he'd dropped his drink. His feet were unhurt but were now wet and surrounded by broken glass. 

He ignored it. 

"You're already planning the next trip?" He looked up at Lillian, eyebrow raised and face sour. This was the first he'd heard of another trip. Why hadn't Byakuya told him? 

She looked between him and the floor, confusion and worry plastered across her face. "Huh? Oh, um… yes." She eyed the glass again. "Let me grab a dustpan, and don't move. You could get hurt."

"You only got back from the last one a month ago." 

Lillian paused at the tone of Senku's voice. He wasn't sure where it was coming from, but it was a dark, ugly place that he didn't recognise but found he had no power to quell. 

"Well, yes. My career is based over there; I have to go back a lot."

Senku clicked his tongue, turning his head away and crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course, he's just chasing you all over the place."

"H-huh?" Lillian took a step back. "I don't…"

"I don't know how he justifies it. He has a job, a life. It's ridiculous to uproot it all to go gallivanting around the world with his girlfriend." Senku scowled. "He's always liked it here, and yet now he can't wait to get away from it."

Lillian stuttered, staring at Senku with wide eyes. She was holding her shaking hands in front of her, rapidly losing composure the longer she listened. "I don't know what you're saying," she said, looking like she didn't want to know the answer. 

Senku turned and met her unsteady gaze with his, resolute in its bitterness. "I'm saying you're destroying what little I have to call a family."

He seethed for a moment before it dawned on him what he'd said.

Lillian, on the other hand, was muttering about being late for something or other. He looked up as she turned away and knew that he saw her eyes glazed over with tears. 

She snatched up her bag and hurried off, leaving Senku behind in a puddle of broken glass and a pile of bricks he didn't know how to account for. 

He stood dumbfounded. Where had that come from?

Senku wanted to brush it off as him being angry and confused. He wasn't coping well to begin with; being confronted with Lillian and news he wasn't expecting weren't about to help. It was no wonder he'd started saying such awful things. But the more he tried to tell himself that, the less it stuck.

He'd meant it. 

Those were real feelings, unearthed in a tired stupor. And somehow, they were feelings he'd been oblivious to. 

What he didn't understand was why? He didn't understand where those words had been dug up from. Somewhere deep, presumably. 

He'd known for a long time that he didn't like Lillian. And he could admit that, at some point, he had begun to dislike her too. And now… well, apparently, that was why, but it didn't make any sense. It doesn't matter if Senku likes her if she makes Byakuya happy.

But maybe Byakuya's happiness had never been his priority?

Senku sighed and looked down. In the moment, he'd thought he was unhurt, but now that he'd been stood for a while and his adrenaline had run thin, he could feel the sting of sharp cuts across the bridges of his feet. A trickle of blood was seeping down the side of his right foot, mingling with the water still pooling between his toes. 

What was he supposed to do with this mess?

He lifted his right foot and looked for somewhere that looked free of glass to step. A few careful steps later, Senku was clear of the puddle and sat on the sofa, dabbing at a new cut with a tissue. 

The glass had shattered spectacularly and spread from the fridge all the way to the door leading into the hallway.

Cleaning it up seemed pointless. If he waited for the loop to tick over, it would clean itself up. What was the point? And right then, Senku couldn't be bothered. He couldn’t look after himself; how could he be expected to deal with this?

Senku fetched his slippers from the front door and found his way back to bed without sustaining further injury. He pushed his shoes off and kicked his feet in front of him, eyeing the developing scabs. 

Why did he care so much about Byakuya being away? And why did it hurt so much that he hadn't told him?

Byakuya was an adult with a life to get on with. And so was Senku. He had no reason to be clingy or bothered by Byakuya doing what he wanted. Senku shouldn't even be there. He should be off getting on with his career, establishing a place for himself within the world of scientific research and space exploration.

But he wasn't doing that. 

He was here, freeloading off of his father and getting pissy when he left him home alone like a spoilt child. 

He really needed to stick a plaster on his foot. 

Senku bandaged himself before laying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do now? He wasn't the sort to shy away from being trapped in his own thoughts, but right then, they weren't exactly pleasant. 

He'd been using sleep to distract himself from other unpleasant thoughts and…

Great, now he was thinking about his Soulmate too. Fantastic. 

Senku groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair, thinking that maybe if he gripped hard enough, he could disrupt his brain through brute force. That sounded like something Taiju would come up with, but he was willing to try anything. 

He spent the next couple of hours trying in vain to distract himself. Video games proved a failure. So did television and scrolling through social media. It was all mindless, and that in itself was the problem. But he couldn't focus for long enough to do anything engaging and ended up lying on the floor, face down, nose smushed against the floorboards in the dark. 

He heard the front door open.

This wasn't going to be pretty. 

A few moments later, Senku heard swearing from the kitchen and soon after the sound of his bedroom door opening. He squinted as the lights switched on, but he didn't stir otherwise, preferring the view of the floor over the way he was certain Byakuya was looking at him. 

"Senku, what the fuck?"

There it was.

"I got a call from Lillian earlier." He paused, presumably waiting to see if Senku would respond.

He didn't. 

"She was in tears because you told her she was destroying our family."

Senku shrugged. "Essentially."

“Senku,” Byakuya warned. "This is not the time to be 'funny'. And would you get up?"

Reluctantly, Senku pushed himself up to his feet, unsteady and head woozy from the sudden movement. It took a lot of effort to affix a neutral expression to his face. 

Byakuya was standing in the doorway of his room, brow knotted in a hard line. He hadn't even taken his shoes off.

They stared at each other for a moment before Byakuya made a jerky movement as if to say 'so?' 

Senku rolled his eyes. "What do you want from me? Yeah, I said it."

"Why?" Byakuya asked, equal parts incredulous and furious. "What part of you thought that saying anything close to that was okay? For even a second?"

"Why else?" Senku clenched his jaw, that ugly feeling from earlier resurfacing. "I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean."

Byakuya blinked at him. "Are you serious? Lillian? Who has done nothing but try to make you happy?" He shook his head in disbelief. "How dare you."

"That's right, side with her. You always do. It's always Lillian," Senku said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I bet you didn't even think for a second that I might have had a good reason to say something like that. Because no, Lillian has to be right. She always has to come first."

"She's my fiancée."

"And I'm supposed to be your son," Senku shot back, voice raising as his frustration continued to mount. "I barely even see you anymore. You're always out with Lillian, attending shit with Lillian, abroad with Lillian. You didn't even tell me you'd already settled your next trip in a month."

"I can make decisions without your approval," Byakuya said, voice straining to keep level. "If you wanted to spend more time with me, you could stop being so standoffish. Every time I invite you out, you always say no."

"Because you always want to bring Lillian." Senku scoffed, walking forward to meet Byakuya in the doorway so abruptly that he forced him to take a step back. "I knew you were dense, but I thought you might have figured out by now that I don't fucking like her."

"You've never tried to." Byakuya regained his footing and stood to meet Senku's glare. "I want you two to spend time together. I want you to get on. But you've always been an obtuse piece of shit about it. Why would I want to spend time with a son who doesn't even try to get along with the woman I love? If anyone's destroying this family, it's you."

Senku's eyes widened, eyes stinging from the sheer intensity of his reaction. "If that's how you feel, then maybe I shouldn't be a part of this family."

"Maybe you shouldn't."

It was as if Byakuya had ripped his lungs out of his chest and crushed them to dust. His whole being, his whole consciousness, froze, and Senku wasn't sure how he managed to stay upright.

He stared up at him, unable to comprehend how much those three words had affected him. He watched Byakuya's expression morph from pure rage to confusion to paralysed shock.

When Senku felt streaks of water down his face and tasted salt leaking into his mouth, he understood why.

He was crying. 

Senku didn't cry. And yet tears streamed down his face, staining his cheeks and dribbling down his chin. He breathed in, shuddering, and touched his face, looking down at his wet fingers as if he needed further proof. 

When was the last time he had cried?

He sniffled, grateful that the tears weren't being accompanied by sobbing. He leaned against the doorframe, feeling his knees growing weak. "I guess it makes sense," he said, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. "My parents never wanted me. Why should I expect you to?"

Byakuya didn't say anything, but Senku wasn't about to hang around to find out why.

"Senku," Byakuya's voice was soft, the anger from before evaporated. But before he could say anything else, Senku turned back into his room and slammed the door shut, locking it. 

He took unsteady steps backwards until his leg collided with the corner of his bed and he tumbled to the floor. His pelvis stung from the impact, and he could hear Byakuya shouting his name from the hallway, but Senku ignored both. 

It seemed he had his answer.  

When the fog over his brain dissipated a little, Senku was overcome with guilt. He shouldn't have said that; it was cruel to say anything resembling that to the man that had loved and raised him. Byakuya had sacrificed so much for him over the years, done so much more for him than he ever needed to, and here Senku was, throwing it all back in his face. 

Byakuya cared for him. Senku knew that. But he was angry, he was hurt and…  

Senku clenched his jaw and forced his brain to a halt. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter how much he rubbed at them.

He needed to get up. He shouldn't be lying on the floor. 

Instead, Senku curled up further until his forehead touched his knees and laid there. He took deep, quivering breaths, trying to calm down until the only evidence left was the raw skin around his eyes.

He could hear Byakuya elsewhere in the apartment, cleaning up the broken glass, muttering to himself. Every now and then, the padding of his feet would stop outside Senku's door, but he never knocked or tried to enter.

Eventually, Senku regained control of his body, heaving himself off the floor and crawling under his covers, pulling them up over his head and willing his thoughts into static.

He had to deal with this at some point. But that point wasn't now. 

Senku lay in bed, curled up and staring at the fabric of his duvet for hours, waiting for sleep to claim him. 

It didn't. 

Chapter Text

The omelette stared up at Gen. It glistened with a freshly cooked sheen, still slightly steaming with an herby aroma. He sliced the side of his fork through, speared the chunk and held it up.

The idea of sticking this thing in his mouth made him want to be sick.

Ryusui and Ukyo were still chatting in the background. Gen didn’t need to listen to know what they were saying. He knew he could get away with at least another thirty seconds before an interested hum would be needed to convince them he’s still aware of the conversation.

Gen twirled the fork around, watching the egg spin and contemplating it.

Steeling himself, he delicately placed the omelette into his mouth and chewed, summoning a look of thoughtful appreciation for the ash rapidly crumbling across his palette and clogging up his throat. Or at least, that’s what he’d been going for; who knew if he’d succeeded.

Ryusui was saying something else, and he could hear Ukyo’s soft laughter in response. The sound tinkled like a tuneless rhythm, echoing through Gen’s head like a rock tumbling through a ravine. It was followed by the next beat of conversation, Ryusui’s deep tone chiming in, loud and carefree.

His friends’ conversation bounced back and forth, playing off one another in an effortless duet. One that Gen had heard them rehearse countless times and yet still couldn’t find a way to join in with a harmony. Not without tainting the performance.

He sighed and forced his hand to cut another piece of his breakfast. It was harder to raise his hand, harder with each mouthful to convince himself that he wanted to eat it. Eating anything was a chore nowadays.

Then Gen finally realised that the music had stopped and Ryusui and Ukyo were looking at him, mirrored concern on their faces.

Oops, thirty seconds had passed, apparently.

Gen… was finding it harder to care. Did it even matter if implosion was inevitable?

“Are you even listening?” Ryusui asked, a small pout pulling at his lips. Gen grimaced, seeing that pain, the disgust contorting Ryusui’s handsome features. Reminding himself that he didn’t deserve their care.

“Gen?” Ukyo asked, seeing the flash of discomfort.

Well, now was as good as ever.

Gen pasted on an airy look of dissatisfaction and let out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I’m sorry, I’ve been spacing out. I feel a little off.”

“What’s wrong?” Ryusui asked, leaning forward and Gen had to force himself to hold still.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He stood up. “Breakfast is delicious, Ukyo, but I think I need to get some fresh air.” Gen pushed his chair out and reached out for his phone on reflex, but pulled his fingers back.

That thing was more trouble than it was worth.

“Are you sure?” Ryusui asked, not moving to follow him, which Gen considered a victory.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He grabbed a coat and shrugged it on as he opened the door. “It’s probably just nerves. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“Can’t blame you for that,” Ukyo agreed. “If you hang around, we’ll meet you down there in ten, okay?”

“Thanks!” Gen called back as he let the door click shut behind him.

Once Gen reached the lobby and stepped out into the crisp morning air, he knew he’d been right. The fresh air was preferable to the stuffy apartment with a lingering reminder of everything he was doomed to lose.

He took a deep breath, lungs filling with cool air, and walked on, leaving his friends far behind.

Senku pushed back, the metal chains creaking above him as the child’s swing he was occupying protested under his adult weight. This particular swing set was as old as Senku himself, entertaining children since before he and Byakuya had even moved to the neighbourhood. Senku used to play there when he was very little, but such an enclosed space, with high brick walls on all sides and minimal available floor space, was a poor environment to conduct experiments in. He’d ditched it pretty quickly.

But right then, it was serving Senku just as faithfully as it used to. Middle schools wouldn’t let out for another hour or so, and while the area was shielded from the wind it was still a bitterly cold December afternoon. So Senku had time before he had to shift. Not that he knew where he’d go.

He’d taken to staying out of the house, abandoning the cocoon of his bed. If Lillian showed up there every day, Senku wanted nothing to do with it…

In some ways, he’s happy for the time loop. This way, he doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of what he did.

Now, days later, Senku can think about it all with more clarity. He’d been out of line, he could admit that much. A small, angry, hurt part of him didn’t regret it, but the logical part of his brain did. Regardless of him being the only one who remembered it.

Overshadowing all of that though, was the lingering unease the experience left him with:

Why had it happened?

He just… didn’t get it.

Senku had never been an emotional person, not like that, anyway. He didn’t let things get the best of him. It was pointless. Irrational emotions like that didn’t belong anywhere near logical thinking. And yet…

By this point, even Senku could admit he’d had been an emotional wreck for far longer than the time loop.

Senku kicked at the ground, watching the cold dust spray up into the air and settle again, the chains clinking above him with the sudden movement.

He’d always assumed it was about Lillian. That made sense, from an objective perspective. Ever since she’d popped up in their lives, he’d never been her biggest fan. Sure, she was fine at first, but it hadn’t taken long for her forced cheeriness and Grammy-award-winning smile to start grating on him.

People just didn’t get along sometimes, especially when one of the parties is trying to push the issue so hard.

It was normal to not like the person your dad is dating, to a degree. They change your life; they’re inserted somewhere that hadn’t been made to accommodate them.

But… Senku had never thought it was jealousy over Byakuya. That was just… ridiculous.

Wasn’t it?

Jealously was also pretty normal. Humans are naturally possessive and resistant to change. Especially when they perceive themselves as losing out on something, but…

Urgh.

Senku ran his hands through his hair.

It still doesn’t fit.

He could probably admit that he was a little jealous, Lillian was taking a place in Byakuya’s life Senku hadn’t had to share before. But it didn’t explain everything. And besides, he was a bit of a mess, but he liked to think he had enough dignity to not get so upset about his dad’s girlfriend. He wasn’t the type to let something like that affect him to this degree.

And there were many other pieces to that particular puzzle.

Then, Senku’s phone buzzed.

It was Byakuya, asking if he was alright. It was a text Senku had received dozens of times.

He didn’t bother reading it, just sent a thumbs up a stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

Maybe it was time for his brain to shut up. Senku was tired. He was done with thinking for the day.

Gen shivered in the early morning breeze, hugging his arms around himself, the thin jacket doing little to keep the chill at bay. Running out on his friends that morning had been more rushed than usual and he’d forgotten to grab his warm coat.

He just couldn’t stand being there for another moment.

By this point, Gen was probably an expert on running away. He hadn’t thought there was room for improvement, but he continued to prove himself wrong. That morning’s manoeuvres had been flawless: slipping out of the door while Ukyo had his back turned and Ryusui was absorbed in his musings.

Well, actually that was yesterday morning now. He had been wondering around for hours and hours, idling his time away, and now the tick over was fast approaching. The sun was making an earnest attempt to make that final climb past the horizon.

It would never get there.

His stomach growled loudly. He hadn’t bothered stopping for food. This jacket didn’t have any money in it, and his phone was still at home, as always. But Gen couldn’t say it bothered him. In some ways, the pained protests of his stomach felt right. Something he deserved.

It hadn’t really mattered either way. He just had to keep moving. If he stayed in one place for too long, it just made it more likely that Ryusui or Ukyo would find him. And that would defeat the point, right?

Avoiding them to keep from losing them.

Gen never had been the sharpest knife on the rack; he was just good at convincing other people that he was.

And besides! Exploring was just a good way to increase his chance of running into Train-guy. Right? It might have been delusional, but the hope persisted.

It was an escape, after all.

The streets had grown more and more busy over the past few hours, more and more people showing up for their morning commute.

Gen couldn’t give the exact time, but he could feel seven o’clock approaching. Somewhere deep under his skin he could just sense it. It wouldn’t be long now before he was thrown back into his bed, those stupid curtains being ripped apart.

He paused.

It really was that close, now.

Gen quickly ducked into the nearest alley. His feet screamed their approval at the rest as he propped himself against the nearest wall.

People continued to bustle past him, heedless to his watchful eyes. Even on a Saturday, they were rushing to wherever they were expected. It was almost funny that they were in such a hurry, they’d never reach their destinations and it was all Gen’s fault.

He might have apologised if he could be bothered to talk to anyone…

How long had it been since he had a proper conversation? How long since he’d bothered to engage with anyone outside of the standard phrases he knew would reap the desired response? It took a moment for him to reach an answer, and it was at least a few weeks. Maybe not even since the bridge…

The brick wall was cold, and as Gen sunk to the floor the concrete beneath him was too. He curled up smaller, resting his forehead against his knees. As if being smaller might make the universe overlook him this time.

He just — he couldn’t go back.

He didn’t want to.

Why couldn’t Gen stay there? In that alley? The grit digging through his old jeans was more comforting than the idea of his bed. Anything was better than being greeted once again by the reality that his friend would never let him stay. Confronting the memory of Ryusui’s fury, reliving that look of betrayal and confusion as what dregs of friendship they had left finally slipped between Gen’s fingers for good.

Regardless of the beautiful fantasy a Soulmate provided, Gen couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been better if he’d just got on that flight and had a few months to calm down.

Was a Soulmate worth losing his best friend over?

Although… thinking about it, he might have lost Ryusui either way.

Not long now.

It was almost like there was a clock ticking through his veins, his heart beating with each approaching second.

He braced himself.

There it was.

It wasn’t jealously.

Okay, maybe a little bit, but that wasn’t the core of the issue. Senku was reasonably certain. Maybe not ten billion percent, but close. Like nine billion, nine-hundred and ninety-nine million percent.

Yes, he didn’t like Lillian. And yes, it bothered him that Byakuya felt comfortable just picking himself up and running off without even telling him. Like a child with his favourite toy, Senku was reluctant to share. But when he looked at it clearly, actually considered it, he knew that wasn’t the problem.

Which left him with the question: then what is it?

Senku couldn’t say it’s something he’s ready to accept, but he supposed, on the face of it, it must be to do with his parents. Right? That’s where the evidence pointed, anyway.

Despite so much evidence though, it still didn’t make sense.

Senku had never cared about his parents, and yet… they came up in that argument. Senku had brought them up.

Part of him wanted to ascribe it to just being angry, to feeling hurt and wanting to hurt Byakuya in turn. He just tried to say whatever he thought would sting most in the moment. He found the worst thing he could say, and spat it in Byakuya’s face.  

He said something he didn’t mean in anger.

It was wrong but it was normal.

But… that wasn’t right either.

As much as he’d love to deny it, Senku knew he’d meant what he said. At least, he was pretty sure he had. He’d been there, he’d felt that overwhelming sensation of… something. Something that drenched him in an unnerving feeling of vulnerability. He’d been brought to tears by it, at least. That was bizarre enough on its own.

He’d always hated that feeling, the feeling of raw openness. Of being see-through. Or of having a wet face, for that matter.

Damn it. Senku stamped his foot down on a rogue can in his path, the metal crunching with a satisfying crack.

None of this made sense. He wasn’t good at unpacking this kind of thing, he wasn’t a damn therapist. Where was his stupid Soulmate when Senku needed him, huh? He’d know what was going on…

Senku paused, foot still crushing the aluminium under his shoe.

Right. That.

He… should probably get on that. At some point. Especially now that he’s out of the house again. But he hadn’t been searching or anything; Senku had just been doing circuits of his neighbourhood for hours and sneaking back home before Byakuya returned from his meeting.  

It wasn’t exactly logical, but…

Whatever.

Infinite time, and all that.

Gen finally came to a stop, his final footsteps echoing off the high archway of the bridge above him. The rumble of traffic seeped through the stone and the gentle sloshing of water lapped against the tiny jetty behind him.

He looked around. Just took it all in again.

Why had he come back here?

To torture himself, maybe? To toughen himself up? Knock a bit of sense back into his skull? To isolate himself?

Well, he’d succeeded head over heels in the latter.

Despite being surrounded by crowds, the echoes of their busy lives ricocheting around him, Gen had secluded himself with deft precision. It was easier, being by himself. No one to perform to.

He turned and looked down to the slushy mud at his feet, leading back up the way he came.

Did… Had Ryusui really been hurt that night? Did he ever get back up? Had there been blood across this stone and Gen just… refused to look back?

Maybe that was why he was here. To remind himself that it didn’t matter. That it had been erased.

…Gen still didn’t know if he was glad that he’d never know for sure.

After a moment, Gen finally sat down, reclaiming his seat behind the large pillar. It was still damp, it was still cold but it was, in its own way, welcoming. Closed off. He could see why he’d run down here.

He closed his eyes and willed the space behind them to stay black. He refused to let himself remember everything he’d faced. To remember that the fears he’d told himself were irrational had turned to be well-founded.

He wouldn’t have to deal with it again. It was fine. He just had to muscle through this time loop. Find his Soulmate and be done with it. And this time, sitting down here, he was sure Ryusui would never be able to find him.

Without his phone there was nothing to track.

Gen was, this time, well and truly alone.

No one was coming.

No one.

…

Gen opened his eyes.

Nothing.

Just the cold, damp underside of a bridge.

Right.

What had he been expecting?

Why had he wanted someone to be there?

Gen curled up further, hugging his knees close to his chest. His friends weren’t coming for him this time. Really, they shouldn’t come for him, they never should have. What had he done to deserve it? All he’d done was burden them with his inability to control himself and then made it their problem by pushing them away and hurting them. Again and again. For longer than he’d even realised.

It had hurt at first, seeing his friends so happy. Ryusui had been with plenty of people, he was just that kind of guy. It had never mattered until Ukyo. And then suddenly, someone else had what he wanted and he’d wondered how long it would be until he fell apart. Until grinning and bearing it no longer worked.

It all would have been so much easier if he didn’t like Ukyo. But no, Ukyo had become more precious to him that he could ever have anticipated. He was important, just as important as Ryusui himself in many ways. He brought an element of stability, of security to Gen’s life that hadn’t been there before.

And how sick it was to have found that in Ukyo of all people.

Because apparently Gen wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

He knew he didn’t deserve them.

But… but he still wanted them. He didn't care if it’s what he deserves.

Sure, he’s a lousy friend. A lousy person. He’s self-absorbed, a coward and a poor excuse for a mentalist. Maybe he’s all of that,  but still…

He just… misses his friends.

Gen sniffled.

Wow, he thought he’d run out of tears.

Huh…

…Since when had being alone turned into being lonely?

Senku did not care about his parents. He never had and he never would, it was just a fact. One he was ten billion percent confident in.

Sure, he’d asked about them when he was young. He was curious by nature and always had been. But even back then, Byakuya’s vague answer of ‘you’re the kid of an old friend’ was enough to sate it. After all, there were far more interesting things to investigate than the people who gave him his genes and then didn’t bother sticking around to see him grow into them.

Even with an adult’s understanding of what it could mean for him, medically or financially, Senku still didn’t have even a millimetre of interest in these mysterious people. He could come face to face with them and only see strangers. And that was fine by him. He could hardly call them ‘parents’ to begin with.

Besides, he already had Byakuya.

His father, who had more love for him than two people combined could ever hope to. Who had done everything in his power to foster Senku’s passions. Who taught him to never feel anything less than proud of being himself. Who had always put Senku first. Who prioritised his happiness above all else.

Byakuya had sacrificed so much for Senku over the years, and Senku knew that he could never need anything more than —

Senku’s feet came to an abrupt stop.

Yes, Senku didn’t need more than that. But… could he live with less?

He’d always been so confident about his father’s position in his life. But obviously, he’d been wrong. Things had been changing for years, their bond had been frayed long before the time loop.

Senku had almost severed that trust they held the other night. Or however many nights ago it was. And it hadn’t been Lillian’s fault. It hadn’t been Byakuya’s for putting her first or whatever.

It would have been Senku’s.

Senku, who has spent years slowly pushing his father away.

Senku, who made the woman his father loves cry.

Senku, who accused his father of not caring about him.

…Senku, the one who’s been systematically destroying what little family he had.

Before he was completely aware of it, his legs had turned to jelly. The nerves in them seemed to cut out at the same time the pain from hours of mindless wandering finally caught up to him. He flung his arms out in a desperate attempt to control his fall, managing to drop onto a grassy bank beside his path instead of collapsing in a puddle of limbs and hurting himself.

There it was again. That empty feeling.

He was at once out of breath and holding far too much of it.

It was like ice pouring down his spine.

It was being raw and flayed. It was weakness and fight or flight.

It was dread.

Fear…

…Oh.

Really?

Huh.

Put like that, it was almost simple.

Fear of losing Byakuya to someone else. Fear of no longer having a family. Fear of being left behind. Again.

Senku groaned and buried his face in his hands.

It all seemed so obvious and just so, so… cringe.

Was he, Ishigami Senku, dealing with abandonment issues?

That was gross. And worse, it was over people he didn’t even know or care about.

He hated how much sense it made. He hated how it made the pieces of this stupid puzzle finally snap into place.

There was a certain logic to the irrationality of human behaviour, and Senku was following it to a tee. He wondered what his Soulmate would have to say about this. He’d probably have answers. Maybe this was why they were paired up, because Senku was apparently a complete mess.

Senku jumped as a car zipped past.

Hmm, he hadn’t seen any cars in a while, actually. He usually expected more of them in his neighbourhood around his time of… evening? What time was it? And, as he looked around more, where even was he?

Senku pulled out his phone. It was off; he’d done it to pre-emptively block out concerned messages from Taiju and Yuzuriha.

…Yep. Dozens of missed calls. Twice as many texts.

Oops.

He hadn’t really been thinking about what he was doing that morning. He’d slipped out soon after Byakuya left for work and just didn’t stop. Well, he’d stopped to rest every now and then — he didn’t have the stamina to walk for what had apparently been eleven hours straight, no matter how slowly he went. But other than that, he’d just gone.

And now he was lost.

Or, he would be if not for his phone. He opened the map and… woah. Wow, he was clear of the city entirely, no wonder everything looked so suburban.

Now, about getting home.

He could just stay out all night. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but it was the easiest solution. Although, that would be a good twelve hours of sitting around in the cold in a strange neighbourhood.

He hadn’t brought any money with him either. And he’d never bothered setting up phone payments — he didn’t like the idea of his phone having all that on it.  

Of course, he could always call for help, but Senku only knew one person with a functioning vehicle —

Ah, fuck it. It’s not like she’d remember it come morning, right?

It wasn’t until after he’d dialled the long-buried number that he remembered Lillian was supposed to be attending some fancy pants party at this time.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Senku?” she said, voice loud through the receiver and much more panicked than he’d expected it to be.  

“Yes?”

“Oh my God, are you okay? Nobody knows where you are, Byakuya’s been beside himself. Are you safe? You’re not hurt, are you?” Her frantic questions quickly slipped into English, her babbling fast and almost incomprehensible over the line.

Senku couldn’t do much more than blink into the middle distance as he let everything catch up with him, Lillian’s barrage of questions not showing signs of finishing.

“Lillian,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

She heaved a relieved sigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. Ten billion percent,” he said. “But I am kind of stranded. I need you to pick me up.”

“Of course!” She agreed without hesitation, and he swore he could already hear her moving. “Where are you? Text me your location, I’m leaving now. Stay put.”

Senku told her his general location before hanging up and sending over a GPS link. All that was left was to sit and wait.

That had gone much better than he expected.

Senku was only sitting around for a little over twenty minutes before Lillian pulled up beside him in a surprisingly non-descript car. He was halfway to his feet when she launched herself from the driver’s seat and rushed over to make sure he was okay.

As he dusted himself off, she held her hands out, seemingly restraining herself from reaching out to pat him down for injuries or help straighten out his thoroughly crumpled clothes. Considering that the last time Senku saw her she was in tears, it was… disconcerting, to say the least.

“I’m fine, really.” He said as she continued to scan him. “See?” he gestured at himself and turned around. “I’ve not been kidnapped, and I’m not running away.”

A small smile rose to her lips at his tone. “Just lost.”

“Yep. Somehow.”

“Good. Good.” She nodded once, firm and curt, before scurrying around him and ushering him to the car. “Now go. Get in, it’s cold. Honestly, Byakuya’s been all over the place.”

Senku let her open the car door for him, sinking into the blessedly warm vehicle and finally feeling the chill that had set into his bones start to fade. But he didn’t have long to appreciate it before Lillian had settled in behind the wheel and started pushing things into his hands: a water bottle, a lukewarm thermos and a protein bar.

“I wish I had more for you but I didn’t have time to get much. I’m afraid I’ve already taken a sip of the tea, but it should still be warm.”

“No, it’s, err, it’s okay. Good, even. More than enough.”

Despite his words, she watched him apprehensively. So, he cracked open the water bottle and gulped enough down to satisfy her. At long last she started the engine and began the drive home.

Lillian seemed to calm down exponentially as they left the suburbs further and further behind. She kept throwing him looks as they drove, the car snaking around the city with a quiet purr that belied the vehicle’s quality. She’d ask if the tea was okay (he hadn’t even tried it yet), if he wanted her to turn up the heating (any warmer and he’d boil), if she was going too fast (he wouldn’t care if she was going at the speed of sound), and 10 minutes in Senku had said he was fine so many times it was becoming his new catchphrase.

It was predictably awkward. It was always going to be an uncomfortable experience — trapped in a cramped space with a person who knows you don’t really like them.

But more than that — why was she so worried about him?

Why was she even here?

Wasn’t she busy?

“Didn’t you have some kind of… thing, tonight?” he asked. “I didn’t actually think you’d pick up.”

“Hmm? Oh, right.” Lillian shrugged. “Yeah, I was still getting ready, it doesn’t start for another hour or so. But you don’t need to worry about it.”

“You didn’t need to come if you were busy.”

“No, no. Really,” she insisted. “An old friend invited me and my manager likes it when I show up at these things. It’s nice to talk to people, but I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime.” She chuckled at her own comment, and Senku thought that even her laugh sounded vaguely musical. He’d hate to hear Byakuya wax poetic about it. “I can afford to be late, or even miss it for something important.”

Senku hummed in understanding.

So, he counts as ‘something important' then?

She was so… genuine.

He’d always thought Lillian was forcing herself to be nice to him. She’s obviously bubbly and friendly by nature — the exact kind of person he knows compliments Byakuya’s over the top enthusiasm. But Senku had always seen it as — superficial? He thought she did it out of obligation. She was dating his dad; you’re just supposed to be nice to your partner’s kids. It’s a thing.

But this was all a bit much.

Senku wasn’t the best at reading people, but even he could see how sincerely concerned for him she was. For Senku, of all people. After days of isolation, weeks of it by now it was all — well, it was nice. It felt good to see someone care about him, even if it was also a little uncomfortable.

He felt that pang of guilt anew. All that stuff he’d said to her — it was all so much worse than he’d thought.

And for what? Some unfounded fear of being left behind?

He’d never been left behind at all, he just refused to come with.

Senku pressed his mouth into a hard line. Well, it wasn’t too late, at least.

He tried the tea, just for something to do. It was brewed well, although it was a little cold. Ginseng, he was pretty sure. A good choice for taking care of your voice.

Maybe he could ask her how she made it.

“Here we go,” Lillian announced as they rounded the corner and saw the Ishigami apartment come into view overhead.

She parked and jumped out to hold the door for him, even though Senku really didn’t need her to. He tried to invite her in, although he knew he sounded reluctant even to his own ears.

Lillian just smiled and shook her head. “I think you two probably need some time alone.”

He nodded. “Well, thanks then.”

She blinked, a little surprised, before beaming. “Nonsense. I’m happy to help. You two have a good night, don’t go to bed too late. You need the rest!”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, and instead just watched as she hopped back in the car and disappeared around the streetcorner.

Right.

At last, he turned around and made the climb up to his front door. The creaky metal stairs protested under his weight but it was a pleasant sound, almost like a welcome back. After hours of walking around aimlessly, truly coming home was a relief.

As Senku approached his front door, the porchlight flickered on without protest. He snorted — Byakuya had always been the type to make himself busy when he was stressed.

He pushed the door open, looking in on a lit but otherwise empty apartment. Was Byakuya even here? Was he out looking for Senku?

“I’m home?” Senku tentatively called out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

This was followed by a loud thump, a door slamming and frantic footsteps before Byakuya appeared in the entrance to the back hallway. “Senku,” he gasped. “You’re back.”

“I am,” Senku agreed.

In an instant Byakuya had pounced on him, patting Senku down for injuries, pushing his face this way and that as he looked, pelting him with questions: what happened? Had he been arrested? Kidnapped? Is he hurt? He has scrapes on his hands, what happened to him?

Senku answered each one with an ‘I’m fine,’ ‘no, I wasn’t kidnapped,’ ‘I just fell over.’ Eventually Byakuya seemed to run out of worst-case scenarios, each one shot down with clipped answers that Senku barely had enough time to make heard before another was thrown at him.

After an eternity, Byakuya took a step back, holding Senku at arm’s length as he looked him up and down.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked one final time, an apprehensive look pulling at his eyes.

Senku wasn’t used to this: Byakuya looking at him as if he were a stray cat, on the brink of running off. Asking one question while searching for an answer he was convinced he wouldn’t receive aloud.

Or, maybe he had seen it. Many times, actually. He just hadn’t noticed until all of this time loop business started.

It was strange, thinking about it now. How many times had he told Taiju and Yuzuriha about it? And he hadn’t even told Byakuya once.

Years ago, Byakuya would have been the first person he turned to.

Senku sighed, ignoring the concerned look Byakuya sent him.

What has he done?

Without thinking about it too much, Senku stepped forward and hugged his dad.

He won’t remember in the morning. He won’t remember Senku’s vulnerability or be able to tease him about it down the line. And when Byakuya, after a moment of shock, returned the embrace with a surprising amount of restraint, Senku was glad he had.

“Sorry I made you worry,” he mumbled into Byakuya’s shoulder.

He felt Byakuya chuckle more than he heard it. “As long as you’re okay now.”

Senku pulled back, awkwardly disentangling himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. Just… I’ve just been distracted. But thank you.”

“For?”

Senku shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Well then,” Byakuya said, not letting it deter him. “You’re welcome!” Then he abruptly threw an arm over Senku's shoulder and started pushing him towards and onto the sofa. “Now you sit there and I’m getting you a warm drink.”

Senku accepted the tea Byakuya handed him, as well as the blanket he wrapped around Senku’s shoulders, and the extra cushions he started to pile up. Byakuya then plonked himself next to Senku, watching him drink the tea with great scrutiny, and Senku even entertained that. He started a conversation himself and after a while, found it easy to keep going. There was a lot Byakuya didn’t know about his life recently. And a lot Senku hadn’t known about Byakuya’s.

They talked about Byakuya’s time in the US; Taiju and Yuzuriha’s indefinitely postponed Okinawa trip; Senku’s research into time dilation and soulmate theory — even if he didn’t explain why.

Anything that came to mind.

It was nice.

It was something Senku had missed.

In all the palaver about soulmates, about Lillian, about his stupid abandonment issues, Senku had forgotten how much this meant to him. How close he was to losing it forever.

His relationship with his father was falling apart. He was lucky it wasn’t entirely broken. But… he couldn’t repair it. At least not yet. Not while anything he did was erased and rewritten, back to square one.

As the night dragged on and hour after hour passed in sleepy conversation, Senku finally, finally figured something out.

He needed to get out of this loop.

Not for his sanity.

Not to find his Soulmate.

But to put things right. To tell Byakuya he was sorry. To fix this.

Before he knew it, Senku was slumped on the couch next to his father, the two of them letting sleep consume them in the wee hours of the morning. And as he drifted off, Senku had a goal.

One that couldn’t wait any longer than it already had.

Chapter Text

The park was peaceful. The middle of a working day wasn’t the most popular time to visit public parks, so the only real company Gen had as he kicked his way through the grass were the children too young for school in the playground, and the birds twittering in the branches swaying above his head.

Gen shivered in the gentle but frigid breeze, pulling his arms around himself. He’d forgotten his coat entirely that morning. Idiot. How many times had he done this by now? How could he have made such a basic error? It was hard to mope when he was too busy feeling cold.

He made a valiant effort regardless.

Since the thought had first come to his head a few loops ago, Gen hadn’t been able to shake this persistent yearning. It had started to plague him, pulling at his willpower and begging him to go see his friends. Reminding him of how much he missed them.

Part of him knew how easy it would be. To waltz back home, act like nothing had happened. To do what he liked without worrying about the consequences, taking what he wants and however much of it he can get and just… having something good.

Surely, he could let himself have what he wants for one day? Just the one, for it to be erased the next. If things go wrong, they’ll always reset. Right…?

But he’d already been there. He’d seen things go wrong. He’d seen them reset. And that fear, that need to avoid all of that, his desperation to never have Ryusui look at him like that again. It all overpowered any yearning, any force of will, or any logic, for that matter. That’s why he ran away: from consequences, from rejection, from something he now knew was inevitable.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t even just them. Gen could hardly remember a day where he wasn’t on guard all the time. When he wasn’t analysing his actions, or the way others reacted to him. When he wasn’t so trapped inside his head that he could barely see outside of it to appreciate what was there.

Since when had he last just enjoyed something. Anything! Without that looming cloud of avoidance or dread. That feeling that he was just biding his time until something world-shattering finally caught up to him.

Even the time loop, as liberating as it began, always started with him lying to his friends. Rejecting them again and again and again just to get his way.

They deserve so much better than him. They’re good people. They’re funny, intelligent, diligent, caring. Gen coveted their attention and yet he couldn’t just enjoy it. They were too good to risk losing, and it was why he couldn’t bare for them to find out.

Gen could recognise the wobble in his legs and shortness of breath for what they were, and quickly collapsed onto a nearby bench before he could go much further. He fisted his hands around the cuffs of his shirt, wrestling down the surge of emotion threatening to swell and embarrass him in public.

God, even in a public space he couldn’t help but feel alone.

He was sick of it.

He knew that it was all hypocritical, that he couldn’t isolate himself for weeks — for years — and then complain about the successful outcome. He can’t run away from people who care about him and simultaneously wish they were beside him. But even standing in the same room as them had started to feel like they’re miles away. At this point, he can’t imagine he’d feel any different on stage in America than he would with Ryusui’s arm around his shoulders and Ukyo’s warm smile glowing at his side.

Gen folded in on himself, clutching strands of hair between his fingers.

He had no right to whine or be upset. He’d dug this impassable gulf with his own two hands and now it was his turn to sit on the edge of it and gaze across, knowing how he’d plummet after a single step.

But still… what he wouldn’t give to see one of them try to pass it. To risk that drop for his sake.

He wanted someone to find him again, even if it was painful.

“Gen?”

Gen jerked upright, spine snapping straight at the calm voice behind him.

He spun around and there was Ukyo, behind the bench looking down at him.

“Sorry for sneaking up on you,” he said, a sheepish expression pulling at his face, although not quite into a grin. “I was worried that if I called out you might have run off again.”

“Right,” Gen said, unsure of how to respond.

After a moment, Ukyo seemed to come to the conclusion that Gen wasn’t about to say anything further, but wasn’t about to run off either. So, Ukyo circled around to sit beside him, leaving enough space between them so that he didn’t feel caged in.

Then he abruptly pulled off his own coat and draped it over Gen’s shoulder. “You must be freezing,” he said tutting. The lingering warmth from Ukyo’s body seeped through onto Gen’s back, but instead of any kind of fuzzy relief, it was simple cold being replaced by an emptiness. Gen grimaced, but still pulled the jacket tighter around himself, nodding his agreement.

Ukyo hummed, and sat still for a moment before speaking again. “Y’know, I’d ask if you were okay but, well…” He raised a hand to Gen’s face and gently swiped a thumb across his cheek. It came back wet.

Gen just heaved a shaky sigh; he wasn’t even surprised at that point.

Ukyo’s expression dropped from cautiously light-hearted into something much more concerned and direct.

“Gen, please, what are you doing out here?”

He met Ukyo’s gaze head on, not willing to give more ground than he already had.

“Sitting.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Ukyo’s brow furrowed.

“Crying?”

“Yes. Yes, obviously. I mean—" Ukyo took a deep breath as he tried to figure out his plan of attack. Gen didn’t know how well his own defences would stand. “I mean, why did you run off this morning? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Gen replied without hesitation.

It was clear that Ukyo was doing his best not to get frustrated, and Gen knew he was being obtuse but he’d rather just… get around this.

“Look, Gen. Please. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to make you. But just level with me here for a moment. This is… it’s scary, seeing you like this. You seemed fine yesterday.”

Gen opened his mouth to repeat that nothing had happened. Because really, as far as Ukyo was concerned, nothing had happened. The catalyst was far, far away; wiped from history a long time ago.

But then he actually thought about what he’s doing.

Gen’s pushing Ukyo away entirely on instinct. It’s… what he does. He’d never liked being emotionally open. Even when his heart is bleeding for all to see, dribbling down his front, he’ll fight to evade until the bitter end.

But… but isn’t that the opposite of what he wanted?

Gen was only moments ago begging for someone to show up, for something to change. And now Ukyo was here! Wasn’t this what he’d wanted?

Gen didn’t have to be a mentalist to see the pained concern on Ukyo’s face either. He was there to help because he cared, and Gen was just throwing it back at him.  

He’d long accepted this issue for what it is, but he’d been so wrapped up in how Ryusui had reacted, that he’d forgotten someone else had been hurt by it too. Gen knew how to read people, especially his friends, and he could tell even through blurry vision and a conflicted mind that Ukyo’s distress wasn’t rooted in that morning. It wasn’t rooted in any of the mornings he’s forgotten either. No, this was older. This was simply the last straw.

After all, while Gen’s lived that morning countless times, for Ukyo it was fresh, confusing, and awful.

“Alright, alright,” Ukyo said, slumping and seeming to give up as Gen did nothing by stare at him blankly. “I get it, I’m probably not the one you want to talk about this with. But just… would you at least come home? It’s cold and we’re worried about you. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Right.

That.

Alone.

Ukyo’s right. He shouldn’t be, he doesn’t want to be, but does he have a choice?

Well… here’s his choice. Ukyo’s giving it to him. Here’s a chance to talk, a chance to come home. He just wants Gen to go back, and Gen wants that too. So what’s the issue?

The issue is that Ukyo can offer it all he wants, but he won’t be able to deliver on his promise. Not the way he wants to, not while he’s still in the dark about everything. Gen’s already been through all this anger and hurt with Ryusui, he doesn’t need to see Ukyo reject him too—

—Although, maybe he’s making assumptions.

After all, Ukyo’s their “balance,” isn’t he? That’s what Gen’s always, anyway. He the level headed one. The one who listens. Who tries to understand. And… and…. He just needs to tell someone.

“Hey, Gen? You still there?” Ukyo asked, leaning forward to force his face into Gen’s line of sight.

Gen met his eyes and, before he could actually consider what he was doing: “I’m in love with Ryusui.”

The following silence was deafening, Ukyo staring up at him with his mouth slightly agape.

“Excuse me?” Ukyo asked, voice quiet.

“I said… I said that I’m in love… with… with Ryusui. You know, your boyfriend?” Gen felt like he was digging himself into a hole, which might have been pointless what with the precipice he was already standing on. He’d never said it aloud before, and now that he had it sounded awful. The form of the words tasted like sand on his tongue, but still, he kept on. He’d already started, after all.

“I have been for years, actually. Long before we met you; middle school, probably, but I couldn’t tell you exactly when. And… look I’m sorry — I’m so sorry. But I couldn’t tell you — obviously — and I tried to stop it from being an issue, you have no idea but it just keeps getting worse and nothing I do makes anything better and I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.” Gen’s voice dropped into something quiet as he finished, and if it were anyone but Ukyo, he wouldn’t be sure if they heard him.

But Ukyo definitely did, and it took him a moment to respond.

Eventually, though, he straightened up and said, “Yeah. I know.”

“You… Eh?” Gen squeaked, shame quickly climbing neck and staining his face crimson.

“Or, well… I suspected anyway. You do always play your cards close to your chest. But, y’know, since we actually become friends— well I like to think I’ve gotten pretty good at reading you. Which is useful, since Ryu is still so inconsistent with it.”

Ukyo chuckled like this was all amusing. Like it was no big deal. But Gen was still reeling, feeling like a goldfish suffocating in a room full of people who refuse to put him out of his misery.

“But doesn’t it bother you? This is… I mean it’s this!”

“Huh? Oh, hmm. No, not really.” Ukyo shrugged and Gen genuinely considered the possibility that this was some kind of fever dream. How could he be so… nonchalant?

“Not really?” he repeated, no other words coming to mind.

“Yeah. Well, maybe a little at first. It was only really a gut feeling until right now, but it was a weird thought. It made sense though; it made your stranger behaviour make sense. Y’know?

“But it’s not like that changed anything. Sure, things were in a different perspective, but… well it’s not like you tried anything. I don’t think you’ve ever tried anything, not even when we’d just met.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Gen squawked, offended at the idea. “I may not be a good person, but I wasn’t about to sabotage you guys.” Gen let his ruffled feathers settle a little. “What you two have is good, I wouldn’t dare to jeopardize that.”

Ukyo smiled at Gen’s outburst, but after a moment of thought it abruptly dropped into a deep frown. “This isn’t why you’ve been so distant lately, is it?”

Gen averted his gaze, glad his face was already red so Ukyo couldn’t see his embarrassment more than he had to.

“Really?”

“I just— I’m tired,” Gen started, before Ukyo could give anymore pitying remarks. “It’s so constant, keeping it up, being unaffected. It takes effort. I guess I just thought it might go away one day — that I’d get my shit together and let myself just be glad that you two are happy, but… but it just didn’t. I thought I was better than stupid, childish infatuation, but apparently I’m not. It just grows bigger and angrier and uglier and holding it back hurts.”

“Gen—” Ukyo tried to say something, voice soft, but Gen hurtled on, not even hearing it.

“And it just wasn’t worth it, you know? Risking letting everything come loose and get between you two. I mean it, I would never, never want to hurt you guys. I couldn’t lose either of you over something so pathetic. So, I thought that maybe keeping a bit of distance would make things easier on all of us. Hell, I planned this tour just to get away and — and to cool off, or something. Anything that would make this salvageable.

“I just wanted to go back to when things made more sense. But all I did was make things worse and… and… I’m...”

Gen jerked when Ukyo’s hands landed firmly on his shoulders. “Did you really think I’d get mad over something like this?”

He gulped, but nodded all the same. He already knew how Ryusui would react, could he really be blamed for thinking as much?

Apparently, Ukyo thought so, as he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You mean a bit more to me than that, Gen.”

Oh.

Ukyo’s face lifted into a warm smile. “For the record, I do not and never could hate you. I mean, look at you. What sort of an imbecile would I have to be to throw away someone who’d go through this much heartache just to keep me happy? I wouldn’t trade your friendship for anything.”

Gen struggled to draw breath, feeling like the weight of Ukyo’s hands on his shoulders and his kind gaze on his face was crushing his whole being.

“And while we’re on the subject, don’t think I missed that ‘I’m a bad person’ crap. A bit shallow maybe,” he said with a snicker, “but not a bad person. Especially not for any of this. You’re someone I’m proud to know, and that’s not about to change.”

And he didn’t know whether it was what Ukyo said, or the way he gently squeezed Gen’s shoulders, or just that after all of this having someone so close was overwhelming; but that was when Gen finally gave up.

He crumpled physically, falling forward and latching his arms around Ukyo’s back. He began to sob loudly, shuddering and hiccoughing and letting go of all the pent-up fear and shame. And Ukyo sat patiently, rubbing slow circles into Gen’s back, uncaring of the mess Gen was making of his shirt.

Ukyo’s hand was solid against his spine, warm and comforting and Gen didn’t know when Ukyo had managed to ford the gap, but now he was here and Gen couldn’t let go.

Having his friend here, knowing he’d be staying, knowing he was loved at least in one place, was enough to flood him with utter relief.

The sobs eventually died to sniffles which eventually become no more than shuddering breaths and Gen still bunching Ukyo’s shirt between his fingers like his life depended on it. He hadn’t had this kind of physical contact in too long, and sitting there drinking in the warmth of a friend’s body was comforting in a way he’d forgotten about.

He could feel Ukyo gear up to say something before he did, a deep inhale of breath and his hands pausing against Gen’s back.

“Y’know, I’m not the only one you need to tell this to.”

And all at once, any peace that had returned to Gen drained away.

The way Gen had physically stiffened would have been hard to miss, so he was ready for it when Ukyo pulled back with a small frown, ready enough to keep his gaze to himself.

“Come on, Gen. I know this isn’t going to bother him. He cares about you just as much as I do. Moreso! He wouldn’t let something like this come between you.”

But… but Gen knows differently.

He’s seen differently. He’s already lived it; you can’t argue with that.

“He wants to know,” Ukyo tried, frown deepening as Gen just dug his heels in. “He’s been so worried about you being distant, he’ll be relieved this is all it is.”

Gen pressed his lips into a hard line and shook his head.

He… couldn’t.

Ukyo sighed and opened his mouth to try again, but then stopped. He withdrew, hands falling from Gen’s shoulders and gaze shifting from mild frustration to confusion. To apprehension.

“Why… why would you think that?” Gen hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t that. It was enough to make him snap his gaze back to Ukyo, to see the concerned cogs turning in his brain.

“I just…” Gen started, faltering. This wasn’t something he could explain. “I just know,” he said, quiet and defeated.

Ukyo watched Gen’s face, searching for something and Gen sat there under the scrutiny. As Ukyo’s posture drew into himself, his expression hardening into something guarded, Gen could feel a pit start to fall through his stomach, certain that Ukyo was about to change his mind when…

“This is Ryusui we’re talking about, right?” he asked. “He’s not the type of person to be bothered by something like that. At least, I don’t think he is… Is he? He hasn’t done anything to— to make you think otherwise? Has he?”

Oh shit. Gen’s face blanched as he saw where this had gone. “Of course not!” he blurted out. “Of course he hasn’t, this is Ryu we’re talking about!” he said, lying through his teeth. “He’s hot headed and he jumps to conclusion, but he’s not like that!”

Ukyo’s face washed with relief which was all too quickly replaced by something perplexed. “I don’t get it then. Do you think he’ll take it well or not? Why are you so against it?”

And well, Gen just didn’t have a meaningful answer to that.

Because… because Ukyo was right! Yes, Gen had lived his worst nightmare. He’d accidentally let it slip and Ryusui had — he’d not — it hadn’t gone well.

But that didn’t erase the fact that Gen knew Ryusui. There wasn’t a soul on this planet that knew him better than Gen did. Or at least, he’d thought so, because in spite of all of his fear and paranoia, Gen knew that Ryusui wasn’t the person to get mad over something like this. According to all logic, after a childhood of being together, he knew that Ryusui should not have reacted like that.

But he had.

Ryusui had reacted badly.

Why did he react so badly?

Gen had been so preoccupied by how awful it all made him feel, wrapped up in self-pity and loathing that he’d never stopped to consider how none of what happened made sense. Because as far as Gen was concerned, of course his friends would hate him for this. Gen hated himself for it!

And yet… Ukyo didn’t. And all reason would dictate that Ryusui shouldn’t either, even if Gen would never blame him for doing so.

So maybe there was more to this? Maybe — just maybe — Gen was missing something. After all, he was an expert at reading people, but when it came to Ryusui he was pathetically short sighted.

Gen… considered it. He looked at Ukyo and considered what he was asking of him.

He remembered the last time he tried to tell them something difficult. When he told them about the time loop for the first time, before Gen knew about his Soulmate and the bond and Train guy.

He and Ryusui had devolved into yelling that time too. It was almost like a portent of what was come. But it hadn’t ended that way.

Because Ukyo was there.

While they were busy gearing up for a screaming match, Ukyo had stepped in and diffused it. He’d listened, even when he didn’t believe what Gen was saying. He tried to help.

Maybe, if Ukyo’s with him, he could do this?

He wanted answers. He wanted to know what happened, why none of this made sense.

It terrified him, but… well, worse comes to worst, it’s not like anyone will remember it. Right?

Gen took a deep breath and fidgeted with his hair. “You, um — you’d be there too, right?”

Ukyo smiled. “Obviously, if you want me there. Besides, if Ryu doesn’t take it well, I want to see it for myself.” He leaned forward and took Gen’s wrists in his hands. “And I mean it. I know it’ll be okay. Everyone’s going to feel so much better after this.”

For as much conviction as Ukyo said that with, Gen still had his doubts. He’s still afraid. He doesn’t want to do that again. But… he wants to believe Ukyo.

So, he nods.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Ukyo led the way back through the park, calling Ryusui to let him know he’d found Gen. While Gen couldn't hear what was being said, judging but the loud noises coming through the line, Ryusui was relieved.

So much as hearing his voice put Gen on edge, reminding him of what he was agreeing to. As worried as he was though, Gen would trust Ukyo. He was going to get his answers.

And… knowing that Ukyo was prepared to stand beside him, no matter the outcome, was what kept him putting one foot in front of the other.

They walked back to the apartment, Ukyo deciding that Gen needed the time to properly collect himself. Also, that it was a bad idea to stuff him into the back of a car belonging to Ryusui, possibly also with him in it.

A good call, all things considered.

The park wasn't close to Gen's place, so it took them a while, but it still felt like his apartment building came into view far too quickly. He refused to drag his feet, not wanting to disappoint Ukyo after everything — and really, he’d lost enough face as it was — but he couldn't hide the subtle shaking of his hand as he pressed the button to call the elevator.

If he noticed, Ukyo didn't mention it.

Gen didn't have his keys with him — he'd left those behind with his phone — but the door was unlocked when he tried it.

He had a strong sense of déjà vu, standing there with his hand on the door, apprehensive as to what could be on the other side. Except this time. Ukyo was there to lean forward and push the door the rest of the way. "It'll be fine," he said, patting Gen on the back and guiding him inside.

“Gen!”

It was a matter of seconds before Gen had a faceful of Ryusui to deal with.

“Oh thank God you’re okay. You’re not hurt, are you? Come on you should — holy shit, you’re so cold, here take mine too.” Ryusui wasted no time swaddling Gen in another warm coat and trying to coax him further in to the apartment. But Gen didn’t move.

“Hey what’s…?” Then Ryusui noticed the way Gen was holding himself and how Ukyo was hovering around them, unsure of where to stand. “Is something wrong?”

Gen hesitated, turning to look at Ukyo beside him. He smiled and nodded, nudging him forward.

Gen turned back to Ryusui and finally allowed himself to really look at him. Maybe for the first time in weeks.

He looked at his best friend, at his face full of expectation and remembered what it contorted into last time. He remembered the confusion, hurt, disgust, anger… and wondered how any of that even happened?

How was his Ryusui ever capable of that? What had he missed? What had he done?

“Err, Gen?” Ryusui tried, smile starting to look a little forced.

Gen took a deep breath and conjured every scrap left he had of his confident, public-facing facade. Affixing the mask to his face felt rather like donning war paint. “I have a, um — a confession to make.”

“Oh.” Ryusui looked between the two of them quickly, realising they both already knew. “Really?”

Gen nodded but when he tried to open his mouth, his tongue felt like lead. He grimaced and slapped his cheeks with both hands before running them up through his hair, pulling at it as if it would force his thoughts back into place.

It was okay. He was okay. He could do this. He’s in control this time. He isn’t crying, he isn’t alone and Ryusui is his friend.

He’s got this.

He balled his fists at his sides and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, shoulders hiking up around his ears as he did. “I have been for… for as long as a can remember, really.” With the worst bit out of the way, Gen still didn’t open his eyes. He just barrelled onwards while he had momentum.

“It’s why I’m always so cagey about my privacy, and my personal space. It’s why I zone out sometimes when I shouldn’t. It’s why I’ve never really dated anyone and it’s… it’s why I’ve been isolating myself. From both of you, but you especially. I kept making the tour longer, pushing to do more or — or space things out. I just— I just needed to get some space. I couldn’t deal with this anymore.

“So, um, I’m— I’m sorry. F-for all that.”

With his piece said, Gen waited for anything really.

But nothing came, not for a moment, anyway.

The seconds stretched and with each one, Gen had to remind himself that it was fine. He could feel Ukyo just beside him, his presence reassuring and solid. He let himself relax a little; maybe Ukyo was right after all.

Maybe it would be alright.

“I’m sorry. That’s why?” Ryusui sputtered, voice harsh and confused.

Gen jumped, eyes flying open to look up at Ryusui.

He… huh?

“That’s why you’ve been pushing us — pushing me away? Are you kidding me?”

This was… he didn’t… No. No, no, no, he knew it. It was happening all over again. Why did he ever let Ukyo convince him this was a good idea, why did he ever expect anything different. He’d been right, it was happening, Ryusui was angry, he hated him, he’d been right, it was happening why was it happening again why—

“What are you saying!” Ukyo suddenly leapt in, startling Gen out of his spiral. He watched as Ukyo stepped forward and shoved Ryusui’s shoulder. “You should be happy about this! I expected you to start sobbing with relief considering how much you’ve been moping about Gen hating you.”

Wait, he’d been what?

Ryusui was definitely taken aback by Ukyo’s outburst, and the edge left his tone, but he still wasn’t happy. “Yes, I know that. You’re right it’s… but come on! Like, seriously?”

His attention returned to Gen, who was caught like a deer in the headlights under the intensity of Ryusui’s exasperation. “I know you, Gen. I know you. If you’ve been cutting yourself completely from this it’s because you’re scared of— of something. Of what? Rejection? Of being tossed aside because you have a few complicated feelings?”

Ryusui crossed his arms over his chest, gaze still blazing but Gen knew the signs of defensiveness when he saw them. “Do you really think that low of me?”

And Gen felt his mouth drop open, completely and utterly speechless.

“Ryu, stop it. I get that you’re confused but you’re not helping anything.” Ukyo started pulling at Ryusui’s arm, but was shaken off.

“No! I can’t just let this go. It’s insulting!” Ryusui set his jaw and averted his gaze. “Is a lifetime of friendship really that meaningless?”

And finally, at long last, Gen got it.

He understood.

He could see that night under the bridge and pinpoint the exact moment things went wrong; when Gen said something he shouldn’t have. The point where they both let their pride and fear get the best of them until it turned into everything it had.

It made sense.

And that was something Gen could navigate.

Gen didn’t say anything, but walked forward until he was close enough to knock his forehead onto Ryusui’s collar.

“Gen, what are you—?”

“I hate you,” Gen said, smacking his fist against Ryusui’s shoulder. But his voice held no malice. “You’re so… loud.” He hit Ryusui’s shoulder again. “And— and dramatic.” And again.

“I hate your stupid, smug face.” Thunk. “And how you just let yourself into my bedroom while I’m asleep.” Thunk. “You just take and do anything you want without thinking about how I feel about it.” Thunk. “I hate that you somehow also manage to care too much about me and what I think about you.”

This time Gen’s fist hit with barely any force. “And that you somehow know me better than anyone in the world and still don’t know me at-fucking-all.”

He finally ran out of steam, arm stopping until his fist rested limp against Ryusui’s chest.

A large hand rose and planted itself in Gen’s hair, gently ruffling it in a familiar way.

“Did you seriously think I would abandon you over something like this?”

Gen shrugged. “Yes? Maybe?” He sighed. “I don’t know. I just… I couldn’t risk it. You’re too important.” Gen let his fingers cling onto Ryusui’s shirt, the soft fabric warping under the desperate clenching.

At least he wasn’t crying this time.

“I’m so happy for both of you, and I couldn’t hurt that. But the longer I went it just… I couldn’t anymore. It become too much.”

“Yeah, well,” Ryusui said, snorting. “That’s what happens when you bottle everything up behind that dumb mask of yours.”

Gen’s face pulled up in a grin he couldn’t stop. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He stood back, looking up at Ryusui and saw a face painted with relief and sadness and love and Gen at last felt his fears blow away like ash in the wind.

He could see plainly how much he’d let himself warp it all. How he’d projected his own self-hatred onto his memories. This face, brimming with affection, could never be disgusted with him. Could never hate him.

And Gen knew that he was right to covet this, because it was more precious to him than anything else.

“But man,” Ryusui said, a whine in his voice. “You have such bad timing! You couldn’t have said all of this a month ago instead of the day before your tour?” Ryusui let his arm fall and used it to pull Gen beside him, so he could prop his elbow up on Gen’s shoulder. “You’ll be gone for months! It’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” Gen said, smiling. “It’s not fair at all.”

But not for the reasons Ryusui thought.

This was all Gen could have hoped for. More than he’d dared to dream of. But he was all too aware that it was also temporary. No matter what they do, what they say, think or feel about the matter, as soon as the clock strikes seven it’ll be back to square one.

Although… that wasn’t completely right, was it?

Gen knew that even if this conversation was wiped from all memories but his own, that things would still be different. Sure, Ryusui will still let himself into his room and yank those curtains open. But next time, Gen will be happy to see him, for once.

He can say good morning and know that it is a good morning. He can greet him as a friend and not as a fugitive in his own home. He’ll enjoy his breakfast, he’ll enjoy the conversation, enjoy the time he spends with these people. He can just be there, in body and mind, with the people he loves more than anyone.

And not only that. But he could do it as many times as he likes! Or at least until he found his Soulmate.

Perhaps it would be a good thing. Maybe by the time he found Train-guy again, he’d be a person worthy of a Soulmate.

“Well!” Ryusui announced at a volume that could have made Gen’s ears bleed from how close they were standing. “With all that said and done, we have a lot of catching up to do and not a lot of time to do it in.”

Ukyo sighed loudly and Ryusui started to rub his hands together like he was preparing to uproot the stock market again. “You can’t seriously expect us to do everything you wanted us to?” Ukyo asked. “It was too much even before we lost the morning.”

“No!” Gen butted in. “I want to!”

“Seriously?”

But Ryusui whooped loud enough to drown out Ukyo’s surprise. “Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Maybe not all of it though,” he corrected with a grin. “Let’s just grab a late lunch before picking up our suits for the evening. Yeah?”

Gen never did get to go to that party. He’d spent weeks dreading it, and didn’t so much as set foot through the door.

Now that he knew he wouldn’t be spending the entire evening waiting for an inevitable meltdown, it actually sounded fun. Besides, above all else it would be different. And considering his current state of affairs, anything different was automatically better than average.

Sure, it’s not like he was going to run into Train-guy at a smarmy important person party. But he’d waited this long. Surely one more day couldn’t hurt? And he was sure Train-guy couldn’t fault him the chance to mess with snooty rich people. Like come on, it would he hilarious.

Ryusui and Ukyo both nodded at the sound of the plan.

“But can you dress for the weather this time?” Ukyo asked.

“I will, I will. I wasn’t shivering my ass off by design, I assure you.” Gen was already halfway to his bedroom. “Just give me a minute.”

Gen was still feeling the jitters from his panic spike, and he knew things wouldn’t be fixed that quickly. Things were good now, but old habits died hard.

But they were going to die.

And the prospect of that was more exciting than anything else.

Sorting himself out would inevitably take help and time. But now, they were both something Gen had in spades.

Chapter Text

“Ow,” Senku hissed, rubbing the back of his head. He was well and truly sick of falling out of bed, but he’d grown pretty good at controlling the fall. At least he wasn’t yelling about it anymore.

After his brain stopped swimming, he climbed to his feet and stretched, bracing himself through the woozy feeling and enjoying the pull at his back.

For once, he wasn’t in a foul mood.

In fact, he felt fantastic. His path was clear, he had something to focus on. He was motivated again.

And now he had even more to gain from it.

He pulled his ratty sweatpants from his desk chair and hopped about as he pulled them on. It was all well and good knowing that he wanted to go looking for his Soulmate again, but he still wasn’t sure what the most efficient course of action was.

On a normal day, he’d hang around in his room, doing research until it was time to meet up with Taiju and Yuzuriha. Or go to the library, if he felt like it. Leaving the apartment in some capacity was probably a good idea.

That would take him off the train though, and he’d almost had the right idea before: it was always wise to stay in the same place when you “got lost.” His Soulmate was an intelligent person, he’d figure out what this was — if Taiju could, anyone could. And once he figured out what the time loop was, the first thing he’d do was go back to the train. Although, who knew how long ago that ship may have sailed.

Maybe he could try harder with technology. Bombarding social media was certainly an option. If it changed in any drastic way, it would be sure to catch his Soulmate’s attention. Assuming the guy used social media at all; he seemed the type, but he shouldn’t make assumptions.

It had been a while since he’d played around with large-scale hacking. The only reason he hadn’t gone farther with it at the time was that he knew getting arrested for something like that would affect his NASA application, and it’s not like that was a problem any—

“Oi, Kid?”

Senku jolted and turned around, seeing Byakuya sitting at the table, phone out and bowl overflowing with cornflakes. But right then he was looking up at Senku with mild concern.

Senku wasn’t even conscious of entering the kitchen in the first place, but now the crackle of the radio and the smell of coffee hit him all at once.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Senku blinked before nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Byakuya asked. “I heard a crash.”

Right, that question.

Senku hadn’t told anyone about falling out of bed before. Not for any good reason, but mostly because… it was embarrassing. While he could take a joke, Senku didn’t exactly like being laughed at. Especially first thing in the morning when he’d just suffered head trauma.

But… Byakuya was just worried. It wasn’t like he would remember anyway. Besides, Senku had made a decision. Whether it made an impact or not, he didn’t want to be that sort of person anymore.

“Yeah, really, I just fell out of bed.”

Byakuya immediately laughed at him.

Senku rolled his eyes but honestly, he didn’t mind. He even felt the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“I don’t think you’ve done that since you were a toddler.”

“I know,” Senku groaned. “Hurt like a bitch. And my clock broke in the fall.”

“Need a new one?”

Senku shook his head. “Nah, the back just came out. I’ll fix it later.” He wouldn’t bother; it’s not like it would matter, but he appreciated the offer.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of more bad news,” Byakuya started, picking up and brandishing his cereal bowl. “But I’m afraid I finished off your cornflakes.”

“I can see that.”

“In my defence, there was only one portion left.”

“Liar,” Senku said. “If you’re going to be a thief, you should own it. Although I don’t know if pigs are entitled to attorneys.”

“I don’t know about that; I’ve seen plenty of them find willing lawyers.”

Senku snorted before turning around to reheat the kettle.

His morning hadn’t felt this pleasant in… ever? Years, maybe. It was like the previous night, staying up late and talking with his father into the wee hours. Nothing seemed to feel more natural than a casual back-and-forth with Byakuya. It was easy in a way you could only achieve with someone you knew as well as they knew each other.

Judging by the bright grin on Byakuya’s face, he felt it too.

How had Senku ever let this fade?

“We still have bread. Toast’s an option?”

Senku looked over at the loaf and grimaced.

He’d rather throw himself off a cliff.

…hmm. Would dying actually have any effect on the time loop? Would it end, or would he just wake up at 7am as usual, not a scratch on him — except the angry lump on his head. Maybe the day would start over early? But then would his Soulmate’s day be—

“Senku!” Byakuya called out, waving his arm about wildly. “You zoned out again,” he said.

“I was just thinking.”

Byakuya raised his eyebrows. “Wow, back to your old hobbies?”

Senku didn’t deign to answer that, flipping his father off before turning to start frying eggs. It was better than any alternative.

He pulled out a pan and whisked the eggs with a little soy. The radio switched from the false cheer of the host to a series of bland Christmas tunes. But Senku didn’t really mind, absently swaying to the upbeat music as he poured the eggs onto the hot pan.

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who just fell out of bed,” Byakuya said, sounding a little bemused but not unhappy.

Senku shrugged. “Guess I am.”

Byakuya continued to watch for a second before choosing to pry. “You got plans?”

“Yeah, of a sort.”

“Of a sort?” Byakuya repeated.

Senku nodded and finally turned around, pulling his breakfast off the heat. “It’s hard to explain. There’s something I need to do, but I’m not entirely sure where to start.”

“Hmm, tricky business,” Byakuya said, nodding. “You need a second opinion?”

Senku paused.

It had crossed his mind last night, but he really hadn’t told Byakuya about this yet. Ever. Weeks and weeks of a time loop, and not once had he considered turning to his own father for help.

He’d been too busy avoiding him for something like that. Pushing him away before he could be left behind in turn. Trying to win a very, very sad game that he’d imposed upon the both of them. It had gotten so bad he’d found it better to consult Taiju about time dilation.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not. But, err…” He turned to leave the pan on the side. “I need to explain something first.”

Byakuya’s brow furrowed, taken aback, but he nodded. “Of course.” He put his phone down and pushed the bowl out of the way so he could give Senku his full attention.

Senku dropped into the seat across from Byakuya, trying to put the right words in the right order.

It was a bit ridiculous how seriously he was taking this. After all, how many times had he told this to Taiju and Yuzuriha? He just had to spit it out and get on with the conversation, but saying all of this to Byakuya felt a lot more meaningful.

Well… if he thought about it, this was a bit like telling his dad he got married somewhere offscreen in the last 24 hours. That was a lot more stressful than anything the time loop wanted to throw at him.

Come on! He’s never been the type to beat around the bush. He just has to say it.

“Right, so it turns—”

Click.

“Good morning!”

Shit, of course. How could he forget? Lillian arrives at the same time every day!

Whatever. Senku deflated a little but let it happen, watching as Lillian pulled off her headscarf and hung it up on her peg by the door.

But… he wasn’t the only one put out. Across the table, he didn’t miss the brief look of disappointment flash across Byakuya’s face. It was weird to see anyone upset at Lillian turning up, but especially Byakuya. It felt… wrong.

Ah fuck. This is Senku’s fault too, isn’t it?

It didn’t take long for Byakuya to perk back up, greeting Lillian with a tempered smile and happily receiving the kiss she bent down to give him. He asked if her drive was safe, and they exchanged meaningless small talk the way you expect a couple to do first thing in the morning. Until eventually, Lillian turned to him.

“Good morning, Senku,” she said, a bright but apprehensive smile on her face. Did she always look at him like that? He wasn’t sure; he couldn’t say he’d paid much attention to it. He hadn’t cared until now.

He considered ignoring her. It was instinct, after all; one little epiphany wasn’t going to eliminate years of learned behaviours, but… Regardless of the time loop, that still didn’t make it okay to treat Lillian like that. It was objectively wrong, and he saw for himself that she honestly cared.

Maybe if he started now, by the time he actually broke out of this thing, he’d be good at talking to her.

“Morning,” he replied.

Lillian was obviously thrown by him responding at all, but maintained her professional smile through it. “I trust you slept well?”

“Yeah, actually. I did.”

“Even after falling out of bed?” Byakuya teased, but Senku just ignored him and rose to his feet.

“I was about to make myself coffee. You want some? I think we have tea if you’d rather.”

This time, she just blinked at him for a moment, at a loss for words. Byakuya had a similar gormless look on his face. “T-tea would be lovely, thank you.”

“You take honey?” he asked, pulling down two mugs before turning to the cupboard he thought he’d seen tea in a few weeks back.

“Please.”

He pulled down the honey alongside the tea. That stuff had to be years old; he expected it to be crystallised solid. But no, the bottle was not only fresh but already a third empty. The tea as well, it was practically new.

“You sure you’re alright, Kid?” Byakuya asked as Senku poured out the two mugs. “Didn’t hit your head too hard?”

“Are you seriously complaining, Old Man?”

“No, not at all,” he said, but Senku could still feel the mildly suspicious gaze on his back. Or maybe it was just concern. He couldn’t tell, both would be warranted. As far as Byakuya was concerned, Senku had made a 180 overnight.

He finished up the drinks and finally plated his now lukewarm breakfast. He squeezed it all onto the table around Byakuya’s laptop, pushing the tea towards Lillian in a silent invitation to take the third seat.

When did they add that chair? Senku couldn’t remember; they’d only ever needed two.

Actually, it was probably added for Lillian, now that he thought about it. She’s the only person who would fathomably use it; it wasn’t like Taiju visited much anymore. And… that wasn’t the only thing, was it?

Lillian has a dedicated peg by the door that even Senku knows not to use. He and Byakuya only ever drink coffee, so the tea must be exclusively for her. They even stock honey for her to sweeten it. She has a house key to let herself into their apartment in the middle of the day!

When had that happened?

He suddenly felt like he was miles behind in a race he didn’t remember entering. This had never been a matter of making an effort to accommodate Lillian into their lives. She was already there. It was that Senku hadn’t let her into his.

Her ambient presence was already everywhere in this apartment. No wonder he’d felt like she was too comfortable in his home; Lillian had already been accepted into it and Senku had been trying to push her back out.

She belonged in his home.

So… if she was going to be family anyway, it wouldn’t be such an issue to talk about this with her here, right? If she was going to stick around, she’d find out one way or another.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Across from him, Byakuya and Lillian had their heads ducked in hushed conversation. He could only make out bits and pieces, but Senku knew it was about him.

“Hey.”

They abruptly stopped and turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” Byakuya said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“So, as I was trying to say earlier,” Senku started, not letting it bother him, “it turns out I have a Soulmate.”

Neither of them responded.

Both of them were staring at him with varying looks of stunned.

Senku resisted the urge to sigh and barrelled on.

“It’s all kind of weird. See, I’ve already met this guy before, but we didn’t meet meet, so it didn’t appease the bondmark or whatever. I know we’re going to meet again eventually — that’s just how this shit works; Soulmates are beyond the rules of physics, but they have an internal consistency. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t making my life a living hell. Anyway, I know all I need to do is get out there and look, but that’s easier said than done. We’re talking about a city with over thirteen million people in it after—”

“Senku.”

“What?”

“Give us a second to catch up, would you. It’s… this is… are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

“You… Since when?”

“Since today, I guess. If we wanted to be pedantic about it, I’ve always had a Soulmate and only recently found out about it—”

“No. No. Stop. This is a big deal! And you’re being so casual about it!”

Senku sighed. “I know it’s a big deal. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also a complete nightmare. At this point, I just want to get it over with.”

“A nightmare?” Lillian frowned, speaking up for the first time since this started. “That doesn’t sound like how Soulmate bonds are supposed to go.”

“Tell me about it,” Senku said, melting back in his chair.

But Byakuya seemed determined to be excited. “Don’t be like that! This is incredible. Of all the people in the world, my son has a Soulmate? We need to celebrate! Have you told Taiju and Yuzu yet? They’ll be over the moon.”

“Yes, I get it, I know. I…” Senku already knew all that; of course he knew that! If anything was worth celebrating, it was his Soulmate; the second he found him, Senku would be right there alongside the rest of the world as it rejoiced and finally spun across a new day. But for now…

“I just want it to be over.”

Any joy that had been in the room seemed to fizzle out, and Senku must have looked more defeated than he intended. He had two pairs of worried eyes on him now, and months of stress and uncertainty were finally making themselves known.

Why did this feel so difficult? Telling Taiju and Yuzuriha was always so easy. ‘Soulmate’ was almost a magic word for them, they’d play along the second he brought it up. But this?

It shouldn’t be like this. Hadn’t he just found the determination he’d given up on weeks ago? He’d woken up ready to figure it out! He needed to figure it out. He had a good reason for it now!

“Senku?”

He looked over to see Lillian leaning forward, a concerned but patient smile on her face. “What’s really the issue?”

“What?”

“You should talk about it. So we can understand.”

Beside her, Byakuya was looking between them intently, apparently not confident enough in his words to speak himself.

Senku thought about it for a second.

“It’s just so… typical, I guess. Even something as easy as a Soulmate can’t go right for me. None of this is meant to be complicated. Taiju and Yuzuriha never went through this. Sure, they’re weird in their own way, but it at least it makes them happy.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I just don’t see why my bondmark has to make me so damn miserable.”

“How so?” Lillian asked, sitting up and pulling her chair a little closer.

“Our bondmark, it’s a time loop. Until I find him, I’m stuck living this day over and over and over and over. Ad-fucking-nauseum.”

“Wow, that sucks.” Byakuya blurted out, blunt as ever. Lillian slapped his arm, but Senku nodded.

“Yeah. It does. It really sucks. Nothing I do today matters. No one remembers anything I say. Things need to change; I want things to change. I want to change myself, but it never sticks and… and it feels like it’s never going to.”

Byakuya sat back, making a show of thinking. Senku raised an eyebrow; this was hardly the time for his dumbassery. “How long has this been going on? For you, that is, I get that it’s only been a day.”

Senku shrugged. “No clue. I stopped counting.”

Byakuya faltered. “What? You? It’s been that long?”

“Not really, it’s… it’s complicated.” He didn’t fancy opening that can of beans just yet. “It just stopped mattering at some point. It’s been at least four months; I know that much. Probably a bit more.”

“Okay,” Byakuya nodded. “That makes sense. After all, you don’t feel anything like the Senku I saw yesterday.”

“Yeah, obviously?” Senku’s face twisted in confusion. Was the old man messing with him? “It’s been months.”

“Exactly.” Byakuya’s face broke into a smug smile as he leaned forward and poked at Senku’s shoulder. “You’ve changed. Tangibly. Those loops mattered.”

“Urgh. Stop it,” Senku rolled his eyes, fighting a grin. “You’re old, not wise.”

Lillian laughed at Byakuya’s pout but quickly turned to pull them back on topic. “I have to wonder though, what is it that you want to change so badly? Can it really not wait?”

Senku gulped. “That’s— um…” He clenched his jaw and avoided her gaze. This conversation was quickly diving into territory he hadn’t prepared for. It was embarrassing, and he’d already been talking about his “feelings” enough already, but… urgh, fine.

“It’s, y’know,” he stuttered, trying to find words that didn’t feel too cringey. “This.” He gestured at the room, at the three of them.

“This?” Byakuya asked.

“Yes! This. You. Us, whatever.” He stubbornly stopped, feeling like he’d made more than enough sense, and leaned back, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

“Oh.” Lillian was the one who caught on first. “Oh, Senku.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, feeling an angry blush rising to his face.

This is the worst.

“Really?” Byakuya asked, finally catching up.

“Yes, obviously. I… look, I know I’ve messed up, and I just want to fix it. But it’s all so pointless. I can’t do shit until this is all over. Every morning puts me back at square one. You won’t even remember any of this in the morning.”

Senku winced when he heard the squeak of a chair and startled when there was suddenly a large hand in his hair. He shrunk back and looked up at Byakuya, making a half-hearted effort to swat him away.

Byakuya wasn’t deterred. “It’s okay, kid. Apology accepted.”

“I didn’t say sorry.”

“Sure you didn’t.” His hand dropped to Senku’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Really, though. You wanting all of that is enough for now.”

“I agree,” Lillian said. “I’d just prefer you didn’t let any of this turn into resentment towards your Soulmate.”

“R-right.” He didn’t think that was worth worrying about, but it was hard to argue with the way she was looking at him.

“Just focus on finding your ‘one and only,’” Byakuya assured him, winking as he retook his seat. “We can wait. Maybe some things need to change, but we don’t need fixing. Our little family’s made of tougher stuff than you think.”

Senku couldn’t respond to that. A large part of him didn’t believe it; he’d meticulously pushed them to the brink just a week ago, but… He also remembered what had happened afterwards, listening to Byakuya’s indecisive footsteps pacing in front of his door, his shock at seeing Senku so vulnerable.

And hearing it. Hearing Byakuya state it so plainly, with Lillian nodding alongside him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even if they were wrong, would it be so bad to at least trust them?

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and felt the tension drain from his shoulders, slumping back in his chair. “Sure, if you say so.”

“Good. Now! Onto more important matters,” Byakuya pulled his chair close and leaned his elbows on his laptop, pushing his face as far across the table as it would go. “Caught yourself a Soulmate, huh? What’s he like?”

Senku felt his eye twitch.

“Oh hush, he doesn’t know, that’s the problem,” Lillian said, stifling her laughter. “So we should try to fix it!” She clapped her hands together. “You need to go out and look, right? Where will you start?”

“No clue,” he admitted, picking his mug up and lacing his fingers through the handle. “I could go out and walk around at random, but it doesn’t feel particularly effective. But staying here and trying to orchestrate something bigger feels like a waste too. There’s only so much I can do in a day.”

Byakuya nodded along sagely. “I can see why you asked for a second opinion—”

“I didn’t ask for shit, you offered.”

“—and I am more than happy to help. Although, err, I can’t say I know how to start either. What do you know about this guy?”

“Next to nothing.”

“Helpful.” Byakuya frowned and seriously considered it. “At the very least, putting yourself out of your comfort zone would help.”

“That won’t be hard,” Senku scoffed. “My comfort zone is my bedroom.”

“Well, walking around isn’t a bad idea,” Lillian insisted. “He’s never going to find you in here, after all. Making a scene could be effective, drawing as much attention as possible. What about social media?”

“Yeah, it would be especially effective if you helped out!” Byakuya agreed.

The two of them started throwing around ideas, flipping between them with rapid excitement. They were way more into this than Senku expected them to be, but he liked it.

He liked this feeling. Of being doted over. Of having his parents gossip about his love life. Of being with his family.

Senku sat back and watched them brainstorm, finishing off his cold coffee and eventually giving up on his breakfast. At some point, Byakuya had pulled out his phone again to start making notes, trying to take down everything they said and deleting whatever Senku dismissed.

“What about that party you’ve got tonight?” Byakuya asked, lowering his phone as he turned to Lillian.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “That’s a little too far out of Senku’s comfort zone. And what’s the chance this boy will be attending something like that in the middle of a time loop?”

“I guess—”

“No,” Senku suddenly interrupted. The other two turned to look at him and he shrank a little under the sudden attention. “I mean, maybe I should go.”

Lillian seemed at a loss for words, but Byakuya was quick to cheer — mostly happy about being told he was right. “See! Senku says it’s a good idea!”

“That is not what I meant.” He shook his head. “Getting ready for this thing would be a good excuse to get out. And… well, it wouldn’t be so bad for us to spend a bit of time together. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“That’s very sweet, but I promise that can wait. Finding your Soulmate is more important.”

“No, really,” Senku insisted. “I want to. I already know you were planning to invite me, and after a couple dozen invitations, I might as well see what the fuss is about.” He shrugged. “Besides, I won’t get the chance once this is over.”

Lillian pressed her lips together, conflicted, but quickly gave in. “Oh, alright, if you really want to,” she said. “But don’t complain to me when you realise it’s a waste of time.”

“It won’t be a waste of time.”

“Fine, fine.” She was trying to put on a look of exasperation, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness, but was failing to hide her obvious delight.

Senku knew he was right. This wasn’t a waste; it was effort. Towards fixing things, towards getting to know his father’s fiancée. Sure, the night would undoubtedly be a bust, but getting to spend time with Lillian was a good thing. And even if she forgets, he’d get to remember it.

He’ll remember that she cares, and that she wants to get to know him too.

The two of them made some concrete plans to meet up later once Lillian had finished her morning meetings. It gave Senku time to meet up with Taiju and Yuzuriha too, so they settled on where to meet. While they put their heads together, Byakuya cleaned up after breakfast, casting unsubtle glances back at them.

They had to leave for work not long after that, and Senku was inevitably left alone in the apartment again.

But this time, it didn’t feel empty.

This time, there was nothing missing from it.