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Deep in the lab he propped up in the village at Roppongi, Senku was going through photos looking for the oil field. Most had gone to bed, but he was hunched over the table, arms supporting his weight. Desperate for answers. He looked ethereal by candlelight, platinum hair turning golden and beads of sweat sheening his skin.
Gen made his footprints a little louder. The scientist stiffened.
“I know you're there, Mentalist.”
“Ah, Senku-chan! I didn't expect you to be up and working so ate-lay,” Gen greeted. Platitudes, platitudes- he ten billion percent knew Senku would still be at work.
“What do you want?” Despite the clipped words, his voice was soft and as low as the moon.
“Can’t a man have a chat with his friend~? Anyway, you should try to get at least a little sleep.”
“The oil field can’t find itself.”
“No, but how useful is it to look for it by yourself under candlelight, really?”
“Maybe I should install lightbulbs in here. We’ve beaten the night already…” Senku swayed in his steps, so Gen instinctively put his hands on his shoulders to steady him. “We have batteries, copper for wires... A switch for ease of use is stupidly simple, we just have to break or connect the circuit. All we need is a conducting metal… for example…” he slurred.
He rubbed circles into his back, hoping to be a little relieving. “Senku-chan, as much as I love listening to you, you really should be sleeping .”
Really, Senku left this mentalist no choice but to drag him out of the lab.
They lay side by side in the makeshift hut, both of them unable to sleep despite their earlier words. After a few beats of stretching silence, Gen cut through it with a question.
“Senku-chan, I’ve been wondering…”
“Hm?”
“Why don’t you sell cola at the department store?”
Senku’s answer was a little too quick. “The materials are hard to obtain. Water takes a long time to carbonate.”
“But unlike making ramen from scratch, it’s an automated process, is it not? The waterfall’s doing all the work.”
“Yes, but it has very little yield,” Senku droned, turning to lay on his side, back facing Gen.
“Really, Science Man Senku-chan has trouble mass-producing cola? If you really wanted to, we could be drowning in cola right now. You could surely make it happen.”
“You just want another cola.”
“Of course I do, sure, but imagine how much everyone’s labor potential would increase!” Gen exclaimed. “Having access to icy, chill cola in the middle of the day after doing some errible-tay manual labor… doesn’t it sound like a dream~?”
“I was with the villagers when I made ramen and cotton candy. They saw the process, they know all about how to replicate it. But no one actually saw me make cola.” At this, Gen inhaled softly, involuntarily. “I’d have to teach them, and I would rather use the human resources elsewhere.”
“Why are you afraid of having a shortage of human resources when you could be increasing it by 10x?”
“For example ,” Senku scorned, “we can’t bother Kaseki with making glass bottles. He’s already hard at work on the ship.”
That was bullshit, even for Senku. He must be really sleep-deprived. Who said the cola has to be in glass bottles, Gen wanted to say. Instead, he analyzed the answer. Why would Senku be so opposed to adding another food item to their repertoire, especially since they were already in a friendly competition with Restaurant Francois? There was no shortage of people to delegate the task to, they had the recipe, Senku had already made it once…
Oh.
“Maybe you wanted me to be the only one that’s ever tasted it.”
Senku is so subtle in every movement he makes. If Gen wasn’t paying attention, if it wasn’t Senku , Gen wouldn’t have noticed his breath hitch.
“Now you’re just fishing for attention, Mentalist. That’s egoistical, even for you.”
“I suppose you’re right… you did make Minami-chan a camera. You made both of us our favorite things. In return, you got my loyalty, and from her a vial of revival fluid. But right after gifting her her beloved camera, you casually wheeled over a dozen more.”
“Cameras can be reused. Cola can’t. So what’re you getting at?”
“Yes, but isn’t silver rarer than cilantro?”
The tension was palpable. Gen wanted to play with it for a little more, but decided to spare the scientist.
“It was never a question of resources or even time. You didn’t mass-produce cola because you didn’t want to.”
Gen bared his fangs.
“You wanted it to be mine.”
Senku's voice dropped to a low murmur. “You really love hearing yourself talk, huh?”
I win. He grinned wider. “I wouldn't be a mentalist if I didn't.”