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Gen was a man of many faces, many words, and many, many more secrets. One of which, Kohaku had unwittingly pried upon with a simple question, as the village celebrated and made merry in the night.
"What about you Gen? What are your parents like?"
Maybe Kohaku did know what she was doing, in retrospect. She was very observant and clever, and even more wary of the dangers that threatened her friends. It hasn't been long at that point since he fully threw his lot in with the Kingdom of Science, so Gen wouldn't be surprised if her asking was just as much out of curiosity as it was a subtle prodding into his character.
He understood she couldn't quite peer between the contextual lines like Senku — a modern man — could. As much as he wished otherwise, it would take a little more than faith and trust and flaky reassurances to build a bond with the people of the Stone World. That being said, however, his dignity would never allow him to be so forthcoming regarding any part of himself. Especially this.
So, as the shallowest man in the world that he was, Gen decided to make a performance of it. A way to garner intrigue that could better endear himself to the group of misfits he has come to enjoy the presence of very fondly.
As well as smother down any feelings he'd rather not focus on...
"My parents?" Gen leaned back, posing as if he was looking back upon some distant memory. "Well, their statues are far, far away from here, so I doubt you'll be meeting them anytime soon." Despite the causal smile he played, pain and relief tangled up within his chest in equal measure, wrapping his ribcage up in thorns that poked upon every odd breath.
Suika turned to him with a jump of alarm, looking heartbroken on his behalf without her helmet-rind to hide her — frankly, adorable — facial expressions. "D— Don't say that Gen! I'm sure Senku will find a way to help them in no time!" Gen could only give the overly sweet child a placative smile, understanding where her intense sympathies came from. Even if they weren't completely warranted.
Kohaku didn't look very impressed either, whether by Gen's dismissiveness or with how easily he spoke of his parents' absence, he couldn't quite discern. Her eyes narrowed with a scoff, "how am I not surprised. Your mother must be a real piece of work if she raised someone as slippery as you."
Gen chuckled lightly, though he couldn't help the somewhat bitter edge of it even to himself.
They couldn't even be able to picture the half of it.
"Oh, but I wasn't raised by a mother, Kohaku-chan," he said, his tone dripping with a mysterious flair.
"What?"
"Eh?" Chrome spun around from where he had been scarfing down a bowl of stew. "No mother?"
"You didn't have a mom, Gen?" Suika’s voice trailed off, her wide eyes blinking up at Gen blindly with a sad lilt.
Gen waved a hand dismissively, his smile never wavering. “Oh, I had parents, Suika-chan. Just not a mother, per se. You see, my family was... unconventional, to say the least.”
Kohaku crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. “'Unconventional'? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He hid his face behind his sleeves, suddenly shooting up and gaining the attention of other partygoers around them. Gen allowed himself a moment to fully get in character. "Well, if you must know,” he crooned, his voice taking on a dramatic, storytelling cadence. “My parents were no ordinary folk. No... they were the most vicious and powerful the modern world had to offer!"
A small crowd had gathered in awe.
"One was a king! A man of unparalleled intellect and ambition! He ruled over those beneath him with the iron fist of dark sorcery and cursed anyone who stood in his way!"
Chrome, his mouth still half-full of stew, raised an eyebrow. “A sorcerer king? Really, Gen? You expect us to believe that?”
The mentalist placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “I’m hurt, Chrome-chan. Would I lie to you?”
“Yes,” Kohaku and Chrome said in unison, their voices flat. Suika looked between the two a little panicked.
"I— I believe you, Gen!"
Ah, how cute. The sweetness of childhood.
Gen chuckled, though it was interrupted as Suika jumped onto his pant leg, staring up at him with frazzled wonder clearly radiating of her small body, "what about your other parent then, Gen?! If they weren't the queen, then who were they?!" The firelight flickered in her unprotected eyes, and Gen couldn’t help but feel a pang of affection for her innocence.
Children always did seem to appreciate his performances the best.
He crouched down to her level, his sleeves swaying dramatically as he gestured with a flourish. “Ah, my other parent, Suika-chan, was no queen. No, no, no. They were far more fearsome than any mere monarch could ever hope to be.” He paused for effect, his voice dropping to a mischievous, dastardly rumble. “They were a dragon.”
The crowd around them exclaimed with shock, and even Chrome stopped mid-chew, hacking as he choked on a hunk of meat. "B— Ba— Baaad! A Dragon?! Modern people had dragons for real?!"
Kohaku snorted, shaking her head. “You’re impossible, Asagiri Gen.” Everyone settled down upon Kohaku's derisive tone.
“Let me get this straight,” she said, her tone dry. “Your parents were a sorcerer king and a dragon. And you expect us to believe that?”
Gen straightened up, his sleeves hiding most of his face as he lifted his arms in a gesture of mock innocence. “Believe what you will, Kohaku-chan. But isn’t it more fun to imagine the possibilities? After all, we live in a world where people can turn to stone and come back to life. Is a dragon really so far-fetched?”
"Yeah, yeah! Kohaku! Don't you want to have a world with something as totally bad as dragons?!" Chrome yelled out in excitement. Gen had to swallow a laugh at the post-modern human's enthusiasm and naivete. It would seem the self-appointed scientist still had a lot to learn before developing an advanced level of common sense.
Kohaku, however, remained unimpressed. She crossed her arms, her no-nonsense demeanor absolutely refusing to get swept up by the energy. "Dragons, sorcerer kings... You’re just making this up to avoid answering the question, aren’t you?”
Gen’s smile didn’t falter, "Oho? I have no idea what you're talking about."
Kohaku rolled her eyes, though a small smirk tugged at her lips as she turned away. “You’re impossible, Gen. I don’t know why I even bother asking you anything.”
Like that, the show was over.
As the laughter and chatter resumed around him, Gen allowed himself to fade into the background once more and enjoy the festive air. His smile softened, seeing how everyone now seemed subconsciously more comfortable with his presence despite being so new and intimidating in his fickle trickery.
Now, all that was left to do was await Senku-chan's return. Though, it would likely be more sensible for Gen to seek him out himself, but... The newly crowned village chief was likely still reeling from the day's earlier revelations.
Finding out your father has been dead for thousands of years...
Gen ignored the pang of sympathy that twisted in his chest.
A dirty rat bastard like him didn't deserve to feel like that, hadn't for a long time. Especially when it came to matters of family.
He made his choice long ago, after all.
Xeno Houstan Wingfield was the most brilliant person Gen had ever known, as well as the most terrifying. The scientist could recite the digits of pi as easy as it was to count your fingers, he could discern Gen's lies with a perceptive instinct that had taken years to fool.
And he was so stubborn to get his way that he developed a method to create a viable embryo between two men, just so he could have a biological child with Stanley Snyder.
Gen was the culmination of their dedication to one another and to science, or at least that was what Xeno would tell him growing up. He also made sure to impart onto Gen how important it was to hide this fact. Not because they were ashamed to be a pair of gay men with a child, but because the research put into Gen's birth was done illegally— thus detrimental if made public.
As far as America knew, Gen Wingfield-Snyder was adopted and didn't have a single milligram of genetic relation to either man.
Even back then, Gen knew enough about the world to know that his parents weren't normal. Normal parents didn't spend their evenings trying to explain quantum physics over dinner or turn the living room into a makeshift chem lab. Normal parents didn't teach their child to lie about their origins before they could even tie their own shoes. And normal parents certainly didn't have their children act as their accomplice in criminal activities to fund even more illegal projects.
But Gen wasn't normal, either.
Normal kids couldn't memorize names and faces with the ease of flipping through a picture book and prefer reading 'The Laws of Human Nature' and 'The Art of War' over comic books and magazines. Normal kids didn't master the sleight of hand in the 5th grade and ask for a polygraph for Christmas so they could teach themselves to fool it (Xeno ended up building one from scratch for him— using his own funds to help encourage Gen in such an 'elegant' aspiration). And normal kids definitely didn't get away with half the things Gen did in knowing he had his parents' unconditional love and support.
He could skip classes, he could pickpocket rude strangers in the street, he could even manipulate (and in the cases of more unsavory individuals, blackmail) his teachers into giving him better grades— and Xeno and Stanley would never bat an eye.
They would even praise him for his skill and cunning, their pride in his evident talents outweighing any moral qualms normal families would exemplify. To Gen's fathers, morality was a flexible concept, a set of superfluous, stifling rules upheld by society that were better off bent or broken for the benefit of their family.
Which suited Gen just fine. After all, why should he care about such frivolous, inconsequential things when it only meant a bigger silver spoon in his mouth? When it brought life back into his father's eyes after coming home from another crushing day at work of having his inspirations denied? When it meant Stanley having to take less decidedly lethal missions across the globe?
It was only when Gen began to feel that inevitable impetus, that driving force that inspired all youths to spread their wings and venture out of the nest, that Gen started to question the world he’d been raised in.
At first, it was small things— as it always is regarding situations like these. The way Xeno seemed to grow more and more interested in Gen's post-secondary education, always quick to dissuade or find faults in any suggestions that involved him traveling past two states. Stanley himself began to express a subtle insistence of Gen not leaving home at all. It was a big leap for normal kids, after all: doubtlessly moreso for a fifteen year-old 'genius'.
Now that he was finally trying to do something on his own, to become independent, Gen had come to realize (or maybe just could no longer ignore) that their family had a bit of an enmeshment problem.
Enmeshed family; a concept first introduced by a family therapist by the name of Salvador Minuchin in the 70's. A term to define a family unit that is maintained by an overall immense control over family members to follow the same beliefs, the same emotions, and the same ambitions for the future. Loyalty is preserved as the most important quality, and the unit is typically dominated under the authority of one or few people within the family.
And then, Gen considered that maybe he wasn't as blessed as he thought he was.
Gen loved his parents— he truly did. But he also grew to be... not afraid per say, but the anxiety and dread building up inside of him in equal measure was close. As imperious as Xeno could be, it never reached the level of high-handedness, he and Stanley did their best to let him grow where he could, to encourage Gen's advancements and milestones the closer he came to becoming an independent adult. But there was an unspoken line: he couldn't leave their orbit.
He could pursue a career in entertainment and squander his scientific potential.
He could become the lowest of the low and refuse to do anything with his life.
He could become a criminal and contend with the worst of society.
He could become the president of the United fucking States.
And his parents would be content to see him through it all as long as he kept within their little controlled bubble (though he greatly doubted Stanley would seriously let him be that lazy anyway).
Their love was unconditional, but their approval was not. And Gen, for all his cunning and self-awareness, couldn’t help but crave that approval. It was a paradox that left him feeling both cherished and suffocated.
They ended up convincing him to settle with Johns Hopkins University, after several near-arguments against Harvard and Ann Arbor's University of Michigan.
“Why waste time on some overpriced institution when you could learn everything you need somewhere more efficient?” Xeno had said. “Besides, Hopkins is close enough that you won’t have to uproot your entire life. You’ll still have access to the best resources— our resources.”
Gen had smiled and nodded, as he always did, but the words had left a bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn’t that they were wrong— but the implication was clear: his father didn’t trust him to make his own choices. Even when he thought he finally had the chance to spread his wings, he was still ultimately tethered to the nest.
It wasn’t until Gen overheard a conversation between his parents late one night that the full extent of their intentions became clear. He had been on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water when he heard Xeno’s voice, low and urgent, coming from the study-turned-engineering lab.
“We can’t let him go, Stanley. Not yet. He’s not ready.”
“He’s almost as clever as both of us combined, Xee,” Stanley had replied, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
There was a beat of silence. "I'm just saying, I don't want to see him go as much as you do, but maybe a little independence would be good for him."
“I don't doubt that,” Xeno had snapped. “But that child is ours, and if the world is as stupid and uncompromising to him as it has been to us, then I refuse to have him face that alone. They'll try to break him, Stanley. They'll try to make him small and little and intimidate him with their mediocrity, and I won't stand for it!"
Gen nearly jumped as a harsh slam echoed through the house.
For a long time, nothing was said. Nothing stirred.
“The world out there will try to take him from us, Stan. We can’t let that happen.” There was a very fragile, very hurt tone that Gen had never heard from Xeno before, one that matched the dead look in his eye whenever he came home from a particularly bad day at NASA headquarters.
That night, Gen did not sleep.
For the first time, he saw his parents not as the larger-than-life figures he’d always known, but as flawed, fearful people who were just as afraid of losing him as he was of disappointing them. And in that moment, he realized something that both terrified and liberated him: he couldn’t stay.
Not because he didn’t love them— he did, more than he could put into words. But because he knew, deep down, that if he stayed, none of them would ever be able to grow. Gen would never find his own spotlight under his fathers' shadows; Xeno will never get over his hang-ups with control, and Stanley will never stop enabling him, so it was up to Gen to break the cycle.
He would always be their family, their son, their only child. And while that wasn’t inherently a bad thing, it wasn’t enough. Not for him.
And maybe that made him the shallowest man in the world, but Gen couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when the alternative was spending the rest of his life without reaching out to grasp his own desires and determine for himself who he wanted to be.
It was a very simple plan. On the day of his train for Baltimore, he'd be stepping on a plane for Denver, and then ultimately a flight to Japan, where he'd arrive with a passport labelling him as Gen Asagiri— or Asagiri Gen, depending on how one chose to read it. A new name for a new life, one that was entirely his own. He’d already secured a modest apartment in Tokyo, paid for with money he’d quietly siphoned from his trust fund over the years (as well as a forged koseki and record of citizenship provided by contacts he's made in assisting his parents' activities over the years).
The hardest part was the guilt.
Every time he looked at his parents, he felt a pang of remorse for what he was about to do. Xeno, with his sharp eyes and sharper mind, always seemed to be prodding at him with small talk, sensing something amiss with his child. Stanley would watch him like a hawk during Gen's weaker moments, more than once worrying Gen that he somehow knew and was just waiting for him to confess.
But he also knew that the moment either of them found out what he was up to, he'd likely never see the light of day for a month. And then they'd probably plant a tracking device in him for good measure (was he being a little dramatic? Maybe, but remembering what they were capable of was a good way to steady his nerves).
And so, on the morning of his supposed departure for Hopkins, he hugged his parents tightly, memorizing the feel of their arms around him, the faint scent of chemicals that always seemed to cling to Xeno's clothes and Stanley's nicotine. He told them he'd miss them, and he meant it— every word.
“Be safe, Gen,” Xeno had said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “And remember, no matter where you go, you’ll always have a home here.”
Stanley had ruffled his hair, a bittersweet smile on his face. “Don’t do anything stupid, kid. And if you need us, call. We’ll be there.”
It was the best performance of Gen's life, not to give the jig up then and there. He had even freaked himself out, looking back at how easily he had played along with the motions as the engines of the plane roared to life. For the first time in his life, he was truly on his own. No Xeno to guide him, no Stanley to protect him.
Just Gen, and the vast, uncertain world ahead.
He wondered if his parents had figured it out yet— if they were frantically calling the campus residences, demanding to know where he was. He wondered if they were angry, or hurt, or both. He wondered if they’d ever forgive him.
As the plane ascended, the first few tears didn't come until after the seatbelt sign had turned off.
Looking back, Gen knew he had made the right choice. His time in Japan had been liberating, a chance to explore who he was outside of his parents’ shadow.
He had found so much success and fulfillment in his new life, carving out a name for himself as a reasonably successful magician (and mentalist) in the span of four years. It did bite at him a little to play down his full capabilities to avoid garnering too much attention — one could never be too careful, especially knowing Stanley's persistence — however, the devotion of his cult following had eased the bruise in his ego, just a little.
But it had also been lonely. No matter how far he ran, he could never truly escape the guilt and heartache of leaving them behind. No matter how many people he had met over his career, the number of acquaintances he's made, not a single person capable of filling that space inside of him had appeared.
Perhaps it was something his parents had purposefully planted inside of him, being unable to truly open up to others without a veil or a mask to hide behind— something that only they could see through, another way to keep him close and ward others away.
Or maybe he was just projecting his own insecurities onto them, trying to redirect blame for the walls he had built around himself without having to look into himself.
Either way, the result was the same: a lingering emptiness that no amount of applause or adoration could fill.
And now, in the Stone World, those feelings had only grown stronger. He couldn’t help but wonder what his parents were doing before humanity came to a sudden end. Had they still been looking for him? Did they miss him as much as he missed them, despite everything?
Would he ever get to see them again...?
He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. There wasn't any point to lingering on regrets with war coming upon them. Hyoga would wait until tomorrow by the latest— no, maybe even less than that. Now that he's decided to stand with Senku's 'Kingdom of Science,' now was the time to start bringing his A-game.
Even if by some small chance — somehow — Xeno and Stanley managed to free themselves from the petrification (because God forbid one ever exists without the other), Gen... felt chills, imagining what waking up to a Stone World would do to them. Xeno was already casually entertaining the idea of making weapons of mass destruction when he left; just for shits and giggles and to vent out his ever growing frustrations.
Gen really hoped that things got better eventually as time went on, but he wasn't really an optimist. Especially if he thought too much about the blow his apparent abandonment must've had on his psyche.
Waking up in a world with absolutely no authority to intimidate them into playing nice? No restrictions? No laws? Nothing to lose? Xeno would have a complete psychotic break! And Stanley, ever the loyal husband, would enable Xeno's cacoethes without question, especially if it meant their mutually assured happiness.
Gen wasn't sure where he'd fit in that equation anymore— and frankly, didn't want to figure that out.
"Jeez..." He sighed to himself.
For once, he'd just have to pray that Lady Luck had granted both him and his parents this one small mercy.
The deck of the Perseus was quiet, save for the soft creak of wood and the steady crashing of waves against the hull. Above, the stars stretched endlessly, their cold light reflecting off the dark water in a stark illuminance that Gen had never known possible in the modern world.
Miles and miles of an endless horizon around them, the only light that shined was the heavens above, guiding their way into the unknown. Sloshing far beneath their feet, was the endless, inky black of the watery abyss. A lesser man would be absolutely enthralled with the romance of it all— it was no wonder that bottomless well of greed known as Ryusui Nanami was so smitten with sailing. Gen could definitely see the appeal in it.
Almost as much appeal he's found in... other things.
Perseus was a marvel of human ingenuity, a testament to what they could achieve even in this stone world. But she never would have been possible if it hadn't been for one brilliant mind. A great man who had put all of this into motion.
"Ishigami Senku."
It was almost laughable, really. Here Gen was, surrounded by the vastness of the ocean and the infinite expanse of the night sky, on their way towards a potentially hostile island of post-modern people; anything could go wrong— especially with this mysterious Why-man now entering the stage. Tomorrow they'd be making landfall no doubt, bright and early if the winds were in their favor, and everything could just turn on its head in an instant.
And all Gen had on his mind was one infuriatingly brilliant, relentless, and cunning scientist. He could practically trace the image of his face by imagination alone with all the time they've spent together: his gravity-defying hair, sharp, red eyes that see through almost everything, slim eyebrows, a small, snub nose, thin lips that curved into the most evil grin...
Damn, what was he? A blushing highschooler? He was twenty one for goodness’ sake. This was ridiculous, really. Absurd. And yet, he couldn’t help himself.
The cool night air brushed against his face, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and seaweed. It was peaceful, almost too peaceful considering the situation, and it left him with far too much time to think.
He thought about Senku— about the way he spoke of science and lived through it vicariously, the way his voice carried that unmistakable edge of excitement and pride when he took the time to explain their next science project. He thought about the countless hours they had spent together, working side by side, their minds in perfect sync as they tackled one impossible challenge after another. He thought about the way Senku had looked at him sometimes, with that sharp, calculating gaze that seemed to see right through him, past all the masks and the lies, straight to the core of who he was.
It made his heart go crazy.
It made Gen feel so seen.
It terrified him.
Because Senku was... well, Senku. He was brilliant, yes, and relentless, and cunning, but he was also so much more than that. He was kind, in his own way, and fiercely loyal to those he cared about. He was the kind of person who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, but he would never sacrifice the people he loved in the process. He wasn't afraid to get his hands metaphorically dirty, following along with Gen's rat-bastard antics and even made his own skeevy plot or two. There was chemistry that even someone as phony as him couldn't deny.
And yet, he was also so much like Xeno.
The thought sent a shiver down Gen’s spine, and he quickly shoved it to the back of his mind, where it belonged. To liken Senku to his father was like comparing a star to a black hole— both were brilliant in their own right, but one consumed everything in its path, while the other illuminated the darkness.
And most of all, Senku didn't deserve that. He was brutally honest, almost to a fault, and he was pragmatic — almost cold — with the way he expressed his care, but Senku was brimming with a— dare Gen say, humility that Xeno had never possessed. Senku’s brilliance wasn’t wielded like a weapon to control or dominate; it was a tool to uplift and protect. Never more than a warning to defang their enemies.
Still, the similarities were there, and they gnawed at Gen like a persistent itch he couldn’t scratch. The sharp, almost transcendental intellect, the unyielding determination, the way they both seemed to see through him as if he were made of glass... It was unsettling, to say the least.
Could he really just... let this be?
It was stupid, really. Gen had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to manipulate situations to his advantage, to keep all his cards close to his chest. But when it came to Senku, he found himself slipping. Without him noticing, the more time he spent around the Kingdom of Science and it's unofficial king, the more his armor had began to peel itself back. Piece-by-piece, more of himself started to shine through the seedy, self-absorbed facade.
Gen hadn't realized just how much shit he was in, until that conversation with Ukyo.
"...I'm really glad you sided with Senku instead of Tsukasa or Hyoga."
He had hung up the phone, trying not to let the comment get under his skin. Really, he had. Gen had laughed it off with his usual melodrama, waving away the sentiment as if it were just another throwaway compliment. But it wasn't.
Gen wasn't supposed to be on anyone's side but his own... Or at least, that was how he was supposed to make it look. But Ukyo saw differently. Chrome saw differently. Hell, even Kohaku could parse through his bullshit now, if the knowing look in her eye whenever Gen tried to play off his ulterior motives was anything to go by.
He wasn't used to this...
The way Senku would glance at him sometimes, when he thought Gen wasn't looking — with that same, piercing intensity that made Gen’s skin prickle like he'd been stripped bare — was starting to become a problem. Senku didn't look at people like that. He looked at problems, at science, at possibilities— but never at people like that.
Except when it came to Gen.
And oh, how he loathed how much that fact would stir butterflies in his stomach, in equal measures of anxiety and excitement.
"Get a grip, Asagiri," Gen whispered under his breath, hugging himself with a sardonic, faint smile. "You're a goddamn professional. The best mentalist there is in this Stone World."
He needed to get over this fast.
Gen shut his eyes, breathing in the salty air in an effort to clear his head. Tomorrow was a big day — landfall, possible confrontation with an unknown force, Why-man — there was no logical reason why he should be wasting brain space on the fact that Senku’s trust in him made his stomach do flips.
How he let Gen in and made room for him effortlessly...
How they could chat long into the night so naturally...
How easy it was to relax around him, knowing Senku would have his back. Unconditionally...
Just like his fathers had done for each other.
"Bury it. Bury it and move on. You've done it before."
Except... Gen hadn't had to do this before!
No one had ever gotten this far under his skin! No one had ever made him feel like his place could ever be beside another person! No one had ever made Gen — a man who prided himself with how diligently he maintained his selfish, charming persona — genuinely comfortable enough to disregard his mask!
And if Senku ever found out? If he realized that Gen had fallen in love?! With him?!
The humiliation alone would kill him! Gen knew better than to expect a gentle rejection! Senku hadn't the faintest interest in something as 'illogical' as romance, the man was career-focused to the bone! If you cut him open, he'd probably bleed mathematical formulas!
And even if he did — oh, even if by some cosmic miracle Senku felt the same — what then?
They were trying to rebuild human society from scratch. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and Gen knew from bitter experience that nothing in his life — nothing — was ever built to last. If he let his heart get tangled up in someone like Senku, something would give eventually. Too much was riding on them now. Eventually, they'd get to the stage where they'd have to juggle between multiple civilizations, devise ways to maintain progress and order. Senku would not rest until every last human was saved, and that was a dedication worth a lifetime.
Gen knew better than to think that they could maintain a relationship through all of that. It was better to just—
“You’re thinking too damn loud, Mentalist.”
Gen nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Senku’s voice. He turned, heart jumping dangerously, to see the scientist approaching from the lower deck, picking at his ear with a plussed expression that vaguely bordered between concern and annoyance.
“S— Senku-chan!” Gen said, forcing a wobbly smile onto his face. “What brings you out here at this hour? Couldn’t sleep?”
Senku shrugged, stepping closer until they were against the railing side-by-side. “Something like that. I could ask you the same thing.”
Gen chuckled, already coming up with an excuse. “Ah, you know me. Just enjoying the night air. It’s not every day you get to see a view like this.”
The scientist glanced out at the vast ocean, his gaze distant, but Gen couldn’t help noticing the slight way his lips twitched, as if he were considering something before dismissing it. “Yeah, it’s pretty amazing,” Senku said, his voice was casual, but Gen knew better than to let his guard down yet. “But I think we both know that neither of us have a millimeter of interest in the view.”
Damn. He hummed in stiff agreement, allowing himself a moment to devise a new strategy. It looked like deflecting wasn't going to cut it.
Senku sighed, visibly unimpressed with Gen's silence. "Y'know... you’re not nearly as slick as you think you are."
“Y— You’re overthinking again, Senku-chan,” Gen forced out, ignoring his upset pride as he tried for outright denial. “Really, I just needed some air to clear my head, that’s all.”
Senku didn’t respond right away, but Gen could feel his gaze sharpening, honing in on him with a precision that left no room for escape. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until finally, Senku spoke again, his voice low and steady.
“Gen...”
When he didn't say anything more, Gen had reluctantly turned Senku's way, only to startle to find the younger man invading his space, wrapping an arm around his waist as his free hand cupped around his neck, thumb pressed right into his carotid pulse.
Anyone would probably agree that it was perfectly understandable to freak out, as Senku leaned up a bit to press their foreheads together. Gen thinks he might have stopped breathing for a moment. He could fool a polygraph test, but suddenly being pulled into such an intimate embrace with your hopeless, dead-end crush was a completely different ballpark!
The closeness, the intensity of Senku’s gaze— it was too much. Gen knew his face must've been puffed up with heat. “S— Senku-chan!” Gen stammered, his voice barely able to keep to it's casual, playful tone. “Wh— What are you—?”
“Shut up for a second,” Senku interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. His crimson eyes bore into Gen’s, unwavering. Serious.
“Elevated heart rate,” Senku murmured, his voice low and clinical, as if he were observing an experiment. “Dilated pupils. Flushed skin. Sweat. Chances of elevated levels of norepinephrine, vasopressin, and dopamine are ten billion percent." He smirked, "you’re not exactly subtle, Mentalist.”
Gen forced himself to school his expression. "Ah...? I haven't the foggiest idea as to what you're talking about, Senku-chan."
Senku raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as he leaned away with a narrowed glare. “Really? You’re going to play that card, Mentalist? After all this time?” He heaved a sigh. As if truly vexed by Gen's non-cooperation.
“You’re in love with me, Gen. And honestly? I’m not mad about it.”
Gen’s eyes widened, only feeling more frazzled knowing he couldn't cover-up his micro expressions this close. Senku had probably done that on purpose, putting Gen into a corner to force him to have this conversation. A part of him wanted to be mad that the scientist had gone to such lengths to do this, but honestly Gen knew that he probably never would have pried it out of him any other way.
He had spent so long burying his feelings, convincing himself that they were better off ignored. And now, here was Senku, calling him out in the most Senku way possible— blunt, straightforward, and utterly merciless. Gen had little defense against words spoken so earnestly.
Without any other options, Gen reluctantly gave in, preparing himself for the most awkward heart-to-heart of his life. But hey, at least it seemed that Senku wasn't just going to laugh him down.
"...Alright, so what? We both know that nothing will ever come of it, Senku-chan. So there's—"
"And who said nothing would come of it?” Senku interrupted, his voice cutting through the mentalist’s rambling like a knife.
Gen felt his mouth go dry, staring at the other man incredulously as he registered his words in full, in every angle possible.
"...You can't be serious."
"I'm serious, Mentalist. One billion percent."
Oh. This was too much.
“Senku-chan,” Gen began, his voice trembling, “you don’t understand. It’s not that simple. I—”
“It is that simple,” Senku interrupted, his tone firm. “You’re overcomplicating it."
The scientist stopped for a moment, bit his lip, and then groaned, sounding somewhat like a— fuck it, before deciding upon what he wanted to say. "Listen, Gen— I don’t do mushy, romantic crap. I do science. And science is about facts. And the fact is, I reciprocate your feelings. Which is so damn illogical, considering how much of a pain in the ass you can be.”
Gen stared at him, his mind struggling to process what he was hearing.
This wasn’t how he had imagined this conversation going— if he had ever imagined it at all. Senku wasn’t supposed to feel the same way. Senku wasn’t supposed to be this... this nonchalant?
It was hard to feel anxious with how calmly Senku himself was facing the issue, and Gen found himself a lot more calm himself in turn.
“You... You reciprocate my feelings?” Gen parroted back, with a blank look on his face.
Senku rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, I do. And before you start overthinking it, let me make one thing clear— I'm not gonna pretend I understand whatever it is that's making you conflicted about your feelings for me, but whatever it is you’re worried about, we can figure it out together. That's one of the whole point people pair up, isn't it?"
Gen felt something inside him crack, the walls he had spent so long building crumbling under the weight of Senku’s words. His sincerity.
Could he really have this...?
“Senku-chan,” Gen said softly, his voice soft, maybe afraid, “I... I don’t know if can let myself... be this vulnerable.”
Senku’s expression softened, just a fraction, but it was enough to make Gen’s heart skip a beat. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Gen. Hell, I don’t have any of it figured out either. But that’s the thing about science— you don’t have to know the answer right away. You just have to be willing to experiment, to try. And if it doesn’t work out, you adjust and try again.”
Gen blinked, caught off guard by the analogy.
Leave it to Senku to turn something as messy and complicated as emotions into a scientific experiment. But somehow, it made sense. It made the idea of opening up, of being vulnerable, feel a little less terrifying. To picture it like another one of their projects, constantly marching towards that single goal.
“So,” Senku continued, his tone lighter now, “are you willing to try? With me?”
Gen hesitated, his mind still swirling with those doubts and fears. But as he looked into Senku’s eyes — those sharp, crimson eyes that had seen through his lies and masks from the very beginning — he felt something shift inside him.
“I...” Gen started, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose I am, Senku-chan. But don’t expect me to stop being a pain in the ass anytime soon.”
Senku smirked, his usual confidence returning. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mentalist.”
The tension between them eased, replaced by a quiet understanding. They stood there for a moment, the sound of the waves and the gentle hum of the ship filling the silence. It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t simple, but it was a start.
And for the first time in a long time, Gen felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The Perseus cut through the waves, the distant outline of the American coastline growing clearer with each passing hour. Everyone on the ship was practically vibrating with excitement, electricity was crackling in the air between bodies as they seamlessly flew by one another in the preparations for landfall. It was easy for Gen to go along with the energy, swapping latent unease with the bubbling thrill spreading throughout the crew.
But of course, it couldn’t last. The closer they got to the shore, the harder it became for Gen to ignore the gnawing dread creeping into the edges of his lungs. He tried to distract himself— chatting with Chrome, helping Taiju with some gear, even offering to assist Ryusui with something or other.
Yet after they made landfall, as others were in awe from the intensity that was American wildlife, all Gen could feel was an awkward, uncomfortable knot in his stomach. Just the fact that he was back in the land of his childhood, knowing that his parents' statues were somewhere — likely miles away, potentially buried under layers of earth — where he might never reach in this lifetime...
Well, it was a good thing their search for the ever elusive corn belt bore a deadline. It kept him from thinking about such things for the most part, especially when the absurdly large crocodiles bore their teeth... and promptly wound up as dinner for the battle team and search party.
Gen never thought he'd ever have the chance to try crocodile hamburgers before, but hey, he never thought he'd ever live to be over a thousand years old either. He gave up on trying to expect anything from common sense ever since they made a telephone from scratch.
“You okay, Mentalist?”
He wasn't surprised to see Senku situate himself next to him, as it has become more and more the norm these days— especially after the scare that was 'Treasure Island.' Gen would be more than happy to live the rest of his life without having to worry about megalomaniacs with Medusa devices, but something told him that with Why-man still being out at large on the moon, the worst was yet to come.
The scientist’s sharp red eyes were studying him with that familiar mix of curiosity and mild concern, lighting up that small part of Gen that just felt so damn lucky— if in nothing else, this.
It was easy for Gen to let a smile overcome his features, his sleeves fluttering as he waved a hand dismissively.
“Oh, Senku-chan, always so worried about little old me,” Gen said, his tone light and teasing, “aside from our excitement this afternoon, I think I'm doing quite well." His gaze trailed to the partially digested cob of corn set on the ground between them, the curves of his lips softening with meaning as he discreetly leaned closer to his partner.
"Now that we've got concrete proof of corn having survived the Stone World, I imagine you must be feeling quite exhilarated, huh?"
Senku paused for a moment, the younger man frowning with a conflicted look that made Gen reassess that assumption.
"Senku-chan...?"
"Yeah..." Gen was suddenly reminded of his own anxieties, watching the scientist's face take a turn for the serious. "Without a doubt there's corn upstream from here... but..."
"But what?"
Senku made a face, as if struggling for the proper words, before eventually just shaking it off and shrugging the matter away with a dry laugh, "nah, it’s nothing." He glanced at Gen, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly, "though, it’s not like you to be so mild, Mentalist. You’ve been quieter than usual. Something on your mind?”
Gen’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, "ah, are you worried, Senku-chan? I guess even when we're in a completely new country, the great Senku can’t resist fretting over me,” he teased.
The scientist simply rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of something softer in his expression. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mentalist. I’m just making sure you’re not about to keel over from exhaustion or something. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, and I need you at your best.”
Ah, there's that little slave driver.
Without missing a beat, Gen pushed the corn out of his way as he scooted over to practically lean against the other man. Nobody blinked twice at the sight, even Mozu and Kirisame have grown accustomed to recognize the nature of their relationship over the course of their travel. And Gen had no problem in taking full advantage of that.
"Ah!~ Senku-chan is sooo romantic! Already can't wait to work me down to the bone, huh?"
Both of them pointedly ignored the looks thrown their way by the battle team, and the whispers shared between Chrome, Ryusui, and Ukyo.
Like, damn, can't a man talk dirty in peace?
Senku didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned back on his hands, his gaze drifting to the horizon of the river. “You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me. I’m not great with the whole ‘feelings’ thing, but I’m not completely useless either.”
That ache in his lungs constricted. He wanted to tell Senku everything— about his true origins, his parents, the unresolved emotions surrounding them. But Gen knew he couldn't.
The moment he opened up about his family, he knew Senku would put that on his shoulders as well. The maniac would probably add it to his list of impossible things to do:
1. Go to the moon.
2. Save humanity.
3. Find Gen's parents and revive them.
And while Gen really, really, really loved that part of his boyfriend, he also knew that Senku already had enough on his plate. The weight of the world — literally — was already resting on his shoulders. Gen couldn’t bring himself to add to that burden, not when Senku was already pushing himself to the limit every single day.
So, instead, Gen leaned his head against Senku’s shoulder, his voice softening as he deflected. “You’re sweet, Senku-chan. But really, I’m fine. Just... thinking about the future, I suppose. It’s a big world out there, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
And that was that.
The next day, everyone woke up nice and early— though in Gen's case it was ungodly early, since the scientist he was sleeping with insisted on getting a head start on their mission. Everything was sunny and optimistic from there, the further upstream they went, the closer and closer the corn seemed to be. Everything was looking up, yet Senku only seemed to look down at his crude maps and notes in befuddlement.
And that in turn kept Gen from relaxing fully, which turned out to have been good instincts on his part. Really, he should've kept Senku's abysmal luck in mind when things were seemingly going too well.
Because shortly after night fell, everything went to utter shit.
They were attacked by some mystery man.
With a MACHINE GUN.
WHO THE FUCK MAKES A MACHINE GUN IN THE STONE WORLD???
Bad only ran crying to worse, as not only were they all forced to swallow the idea of another scientific force existing with higher grade weapons and substantially concerning callousness, but that said enemy decided to give chase in a fighter plane.
Yes, you heard that right.
Gen's heart practically dropped into his ass like a stone. He didn't even need to fake himself going pale and clammy with fear. All he could do was watch in absolute horror as the plane flew down from the sky to seemingly finish them off, only to have their skins saved by Senku's quick thinking and Kirisame's sling-throwing skills.
But of course, it was just like Senku to save everyone from the flames, only to later throw others into the fire.
"No, I mean... Who's going to chase them?"
Apparently, being shot at from a plane wasn't a close enough call for Gen that day. Not at all. No, instead of getting to decompress from the frankly nerve rattling experience, the magician found himself walking right into the mouth of the lion, trailing after their would-be killer along with Chrome and Kohaku.
Perhaps there was a reason after all, why pride was such an infamous sin. There was nothing else to blame, when it evidentially led to this precise moment. A huge ass gun, right in his face, held by a unidentifiable man in a frankly- creepy armored suit, looking straight off of a sci-fi movie set. And Gen was all alone. Even with Kohaku's insane speed, he'd be dead before she could come rushing at the sound of his scream.
So it was all up to him right now...
Gen could see his life flashing before his eyes, right behind all the scrambled thoughts of anything and everything he could do and say to make it out of this alive, should their assailant prove to be completely uninterested in negotiations.
But... something, strange stuck out to him.
The moment the — assuming from their height and overall body shape — man managed to take a good look at Gen, the muzzle of the gun dropped slightly, as if the armored figure was momentarily stunned. The action helped Gen relax from his furious bout of adrenaline, giving him more room to breathe and think.
Was this hesitation? Shock? Perhaps the enemy was expecting someone older? More capable?
The moment they lowered the weapon, Gen didn't waste this opportunity to fire off questions.
"Who are you? Where did you come from? I didn't notice you at all!"
Absolute silence. Obviously, this guy wasn't much of a talker— or thought better of saying anything that could be incriminating?
Gen didn't get long to think about it before the mystery man was suddenly shoving Gen in the opposite direction from where he came.
"Ah—! What? You want me to follow you?"
No answer of course, but another more urgent shove made it clear that the armored figure wasn’t asking.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Gen relented, giving them an obedient look whilst actively sprinkling a trail of petals as they went.
Exasperated, he quietly relented to his new mission as a spy, figuring he was being led back to the gunman's base, where ideally, the corn and this hypothetical 'dark scientist' figure was.
The building they arrived at was imposing, a stark contrast to the almost quaint and rustic surroundings. It looked like something out of a dystopian novel— sleek, metallic, and utterly out of place in the Stone World. Gen’s unease grew as they climbed the stairs, his instincts screaming at him to run.
Because something he's come to learn from all of these near-death experiences as of late? The more dramatic and eccentric the enemy was, the more dangerous they were going to be.
The armored figure pushed him through an empty doorframe, leading into a dark room with beakers and flasks lining the shelves in droves. It was a very... humbling sight, as the variation and refinement of their chemistry — not just their engineering — was most definitely further along than the Kingdom of Science.
The dark figure evidently heard them come in, but had yet to turn around or step into the light where Gen could make them out better. "Stan? Have you brought us a visitor?"
Gen felt his entire body freeze at the sound of that voice.
It was smooth, calculated, and chillingly familiar. His breath hitched, his mind racing to process what he was hearing. No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
Panic had him looking back, only to wilt as the mystery man — no longer a mystery — finally removed his helmet, a small smirk on his face as he carefully peeled away the suit with relaxed, confident movements. "I brought back something better, I'm afraid."
"Better?" Gently putting down whatever he was working on, Xeno finally looked back, only to visibly stiffen at the sight of Gen, a sharp intake of breath puffing out his chest a little. Gen still couldn't make out his expression clearly in the dark.
But the silence that followed was deafening. Gen’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind a whirlwind of emotions— shock, disbelief, fear, and a strange, aching longing.
He hadn’t seen his parents in years, hadn’t allowed himself to think about them too much, and now here they were, standing in front of him like ghosts.
It was too much...
It wasn't until Xeno had him pulled into an all-encompassing hug that Gen realized that he had phased out of reality for a moment. "Gen,” Xeno said finally, his voice soft and weary in a way that made tears spring up in Gen's eyes. “You’ve finally come home.”
Gen’s mouth went dry. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. He could only hold on for dear life as his fists dug into the back of Xeno's coat, curling into the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. The scent of chemicals and faint traces of nicotine — so achingly familiar — flooded his senses, and for a moment, Gen was a child again, safe in the arms of his father. But the illusion shattered as quickly as it had formed.
This wasn’t the home he remembered. This wasn’t the Xeno he remembered.
“Father,” Gen said finally, his voice trembling. “What... what are you doing here?”
Xeno pulled back slightly, his hands resting on Gen’s shoulders as he studied him with a mixture of pride and something darker, something manic and fierce that frightened the younger man more than even almost dying earlier today. “Building a new world, Gen. A world where our family can thrive."
Xeno smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And now that you’re here, we can finally move forward together.”
It was like he was being dunk into a frozen lake, watching his worst anxiety, the biggest fear he had regarding his parents come to life. This wasn’t the man who had taught him to read, who had ruffled his hair and called him his greatest creation. This was someone else. Someone dangerous.
Before he could open his mouth, Xeno had stepped back and released him fully, eyes more intense and wild and full of childish glee as he spread his arms out, as if presenting the room — no, the entire world — to Gen. “Look around us, Gen! Isn't it elegant?! This is just the beginning! We can create a world where our family will never have to worry about anything again! Nobody can intimidate us anymore, with my science, with Stanley's gun skills, and—!" Xeno reached out, cupping Gen's face and pulling him in with a sinister, elated grin, "and now, with your clever trickery, we can become this world's ultimate dictators! Power! Control! Ours!"
Gen’s stomach churned. He wanted to argue, to scream, to tell Xeno that this wasn’t what he wanted, that this wasn’t what they were supposed to be. But the words wouldn’t come.
What the hell could he say with Xeno already being this far gone?
Stanley stepped forward, his presence a steady, grounding force as always. He placed a hand on Gen’s shoulder, his grip firm but not unkind. “You’ve been gone a long time, kid,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Gen looked up at Stanley, his mind racing. Stanley had always been the more level-headed of the two, the one who balanced Xeno’s intensity with his own quiet strength. But now, even Stanley seemed different. There was a hardness in his eyes, a resolve that Gen hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Stanley was fully committed to Xeno’s vision, no matter the cost.
“I...” Gen started, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't understand. This..." Shit, he just wanted to kick himself, why was he messing up?! Get your head on straight, mentalist! "This... I don't think I can understand this, dad."
Xeno’s smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something — hurt? Sadness? — crossing his face before it was replaced by that same wrongminded confidence. “You’ll understand, Gen. In time, you’ll see that this is the only way. The only way to protect what’s ours... Yes, you're still young after all, it would be unrealistic to imagine you accepting everything right away.”
Gen’s chest tightened. He wanted to believe them, to fall back into the familiar comfort that had cradled him so long, at his weakest and most vulnerable. But the cold, detached glint in Xeno’s eyes, the unyielding resolve in Stanley’s grip— Gen knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with this.
“You’re tired,” Xeno said, his voice softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from Gen’s face. “Why don’t you rest and get yourself situated in the castle? We’ll talk more in a moment, my son.”
Gen nodded numbly, allowing Stanley to slowly guide him out of the room and down a dimly lit hallway. The walls seemed to close in around him, the weight of everything pressing down on his chest.
Stanley stopped in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a small, sparsely furnished room. “Get some rest, Gen,” he said, his tone gentle and slightly misty. “We’ll figure everything out tomorrow...”
He hesitated for a moment, before suddenly pulling Gen into a tight hug, nearly squishing all the air out of his lungs.
"Missed you a lot, kid. Never gonna let my eye off you again."
Finally, the tears Gen had been holding back burst free.
"Hey, hello there."
Senku felt his chest seize.
"I see. So, your communications... work on this frequency."
Shit. That was way faster than he was hoping. Though this opportunity in itself could prove to be useful. Based off of that voice, the enemy was a male a little past the peak of youth. Mid to late thirties? Six feet tall, maybe? Maybe they can get something out of this guy— ideally more than he'd get from them.
"Nice to meet you, ladies and gentlemen of the Little Kingdom of Science."
Well, the guy certainly had an ego to him, if he was so quick to belittle them after all of those close calls.
"I'm Dr. Xeno. I'd like to speak to your science leader, if you don't mind."
Senku took in a steadying breath, allowing a grin to slide over his face.
Here we go.
"Yo, this is Senku the science man speaking, and I’m guessing you’re the one who’s been causing all the trouble for my crew. What do you want, Xeno?”
There was a brief moment of silence for a moment, before incredulous laughter suddenly burst over the comm.
"What?" Magma made a face.
Ukyo looked more disturbed if anything, as did many of the others. "Why is he laughing...?"
Once the seriously sinister sounding cackles died down, Dr. Xeno seemed to have the mind to muffle himself before regaining control over his voice. "S— Senku... of course, how elegant for things to turn out this way."
Taiju's eyes were nearly bugging out of his head— as were Senku's but likely for a completely different reason. "Senku?! You know the evil scientist?!"
"...No, not really. But..."
"It's been quite some time, my little protege."
"WHAT?" Senku had to slam his hand over the speaking tube as the ship went into chaos under the new revelation. Things were starting to look dicey.
"I'm sure you understand by now, how we're worlds apart in terms of scientific prowess."
Senku’s jaw clenched, feeling a bead of sweat go down his temple as a nervous chuckle sparked far in the back of his throat. "What do you want?" The scientist’s grip on the speaking tube tightened, bracing himself for what could be the worst.
"We're a refined, professional team, leagues above your little make-believe science club. We want you to surrender and serve us willingly."
Alright, they can work with this, that wasn't—
"Or at least... That is what I would have said before, however, I am grateful to you, Senku. You've brought me something beyond priceless. So, as long as you and your friends make sure to never cross us again, I can be more than willing to claim this little misunderstanding as under the bridge and let you all go."
What...?
Everyone began to mutter to one another in unease, exchanging glances as they tried to make sense of Xeno’s words. Senku’s mind raced, his sharp instincts piecing together the implications faster than the others. His stomach dropped as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
There was only one thing— or more importantly, one person with Xeno right now.
“Gen,” Senku muttered under his breath, his voice low but laced with urgency. “He’s talking about Gen.”
Tsukasa's eyes widened, likely feeling the same dread that was building in Senku's stomach. “Gen? What does he mean by 'priceless'? How does an American know Gen?”
Senku didn’t respond immediately, his mind working overtime to process the situation.
How was the mentalist involved in all of this?
Senku’s jaw tightened, his grip on the speaking tube turning white-knuckled. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “Xeno,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “What are you talking about? What did we ‘bring’ you?”
Xeno’s laughter crackled over the comm again, cold and mocking. “Oh, Senku. Don’t play dumb. You know exactly who I’m talking about... My son, Gen.”
The crew erupted into chaos, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of shock and confusion.
“GEN'S HIS SON?!” Taiju roared, his voice booming.
“What the hell is going on?!” Ginro added, his tone panicked.
Senku slammed his hand against the console, silencing the room. “Quiet!” he barked, his sharp tone cutting through the noise. He turned back to the speaking tube, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “Xeno,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you’ve done anything to Gen—”
“Done anything?” Xeno interrupted, his tone dripping with the implication of insult. “On the contrary, Senku. I’ve reunited with my beloved son after years of separation. Thanks to you, he’s finally home where he belongs. And for that, I’m willing to extend my gratitude where it is due. Leave now, and I’ll let you and your little crew go unharmed. But if you interfere... well, let’s just say I will no longer be so generous.”
Senku’s mind raced. He couldn’t afford to let Xeno’s threats rattle him. Not now. Not when Gen was in danger. He needed to think, to strategize. But one thing was clear: their mission had just taken a drastic turn.
He refused to leave anyone — leave Gen — behind.
“Senku,” Ryusui said quietly, his voice tense. “What’s the plan?”
Senku didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the speaking tube as if he could see Xeno through it. Finally, he straightened, his expression hardening with resolve and forced confidence— they will make it through this, ten billion percent.
“We’re not leaving without Gen,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. “No matter what it takes.”
The crew exchanged determined glances, their earlier panic replaced by a shared sense of purpose. They might not have all the answers, but they trusted Senku. And if Senku said they were getting Gen back, then that’s what they’d do.
Senku turned back to the speaking tube, his voice sharp and commanding. “Listen up, Xeno. You might think you’ve won, but you’ve made one critical mistake.”
“Oh?” Xeno’s tone was amused, almost condescending. “And what might that be?”
“You underestimated us,” Senku said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you underestimated Gen. He’s not just your son. He’s one of us. And we don’t abandon our own.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, for only a brief second. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same cold, mocking tone.
“We’ll see about that, Senku,” Xeno said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The line went dead, leaving the crew in tense silence. Senku turned to face them, his expression serious but determined. “Alright, listen up. Our priority has changed. We’re not just here for the corn anymore. We’re getting Gen back, too. And we’re not leaving without him.”
The crew nodded, their resolve hardening. They might be up against a powerful enemy, but they had something Xeno didn’t: each other. And that was a force to be reckoned with.
And the day Ishigami Senku got chased off by something as lame as some overprotective mother hen trying to preserve their child's chastity, was the day he up and died.
Gen, we're coming for you...!