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4th of December 2032 was an important date; Not because of what happened on that day, but rather because of what didn't.
That day marked 13 years, 6 months and 1 days since Byakuya had last seen his son. A number which was now officially a day longer than the distance between the petrification event and adopting Senkuu in the first place.
They had been apart for longer than Byakuya had gotten to spend with Senkuu.
Perhaps that was why Byakuya had decided on his current plan. There was nothing holding him back, not with all of his fellow astronauts long since dead. Even Lillian had left him, four years ago now.
The pain of her absence had dulled with time, like the sharp edges of a glass shard left behind in the sea. And yet, for some reason, the wound of his son's absence refused to heal despite all the time that had already passed.
It is true what they said: a parent is never ready to bury their child.
Good thing, then, that Byakuya didn't have to do that. Senkuu wasn't dead, after all. He was indubitably already scheming, plotting ways in which to bring back the world. If there was anyone who could do that — remain conscious and alert even when turned into a stone statue — it would have been his boy.
Byakuya held unbreakable faith in his son.
He would break out of the stone. He would save humanity. He would achieve his dreams, even if he had to rebuild the world step by step in order to do that.
And Byakuya wouldn't get to be by his side when that happened.
Even if Byakuya could never hear Senkuu's voice again, at least he was able to leave the record for him, even if most of it was used for Lillian's song. He wouldn't be able to have a conversation, but he could leave behind the 100 Tales, make it just that tiny bit easier for Senkuu to communicate with their descendants.
But...
He had said once, when asked, I want to see my son again.
He had thought, Bad enough to die for it.
And that desire had never once left him, not in the last thirteen years.
So he acted on it. The moment he could, the moment he knew their children would survive without him there, he prepared a bag, said his temporary goodbyes, and set for the mainland.
He thought of his son with every stroke cutting through the waves. He thought about Senkuu with every step through the dilapidated streets, following the old, crumbling roads back to their homecity.
His feet led him to their flat, first, even though he knew he wouldn't find Senkuu there. The building had not weathered well at all, turned into a messy ruin. Byakuya hardly wanted to risk entering it. There were some items he particularly missed — including the photos album — but none that warranted digging through the unstable pile of rubble. With a cursory glance, he set out for Senkuu's school.
Based on the time he knew the petrification his Japan, and what he remembered of Senkuu's schedule-
There he was.
Lying on the ground with his eyes wide open, expression on his face proving that he hadn't been caught entirely unaware.
Byakuya slid to his knees. The floor was slightly sticky where a decade-old stain of discarded soda had lain, but that hardly mattered to him.
His fingers shook as he moved to trace Senkuu's signature strand of hair, now nothing but stone under his fingertips. Their hairstyles almost matched now, he thought with a smile, even if his strand had split into two despite his best efforts.
His son. His perfect boy. His beloved baby.
At long last, he could see him again.
Tears blurred his vision, falling over the worn school uniform as he bowed over Senkuu, hands clutching at his stone-hard body. This was the closest to hugging his child he'd ever get.
If only he knew more about the petrification, if only he was able to figure out a way to reverse it.
If only he could have been more useful.
But no. All he could give Senkuu was the single record, whatever bits of Soyuz would survive the passage of time, the 100 Tales and the future generations of their descendants, people there to help him whenever he woke up, even if it happened long after Byakuya himself was gone.
"It's all up to you now, Senkuu," Byakuya whispered, pressing a kiss against the boy's forehead. A true love's kiss. If this had been a fairytale, his parental devotion would have been enough to rouse his son from this unnatural slumber.
But this was real life, and Senkuu remained motionless.
Byakuya stood up slowly, his knees creaking. There was no point in sitting vigil by Senkuu's side. The boy hardly ever needed him, now less than ever. But-
"Your siblings still could use this old man's advice," he told his son. It was a weird thing to say. It was weirder still to think Senkuu might never meet any of them at all. "I better make my way back to them, huh?"
Even if his heart would break with every step he took away from Senkuu.
"You would have hated this display, wouldn't you?" Byakuya chuckled, the sound devoid of any actual amusement. "You would have thought I was being corny. Forgive me, Senkuu- Your old man never stopped being a sap."
There was nothing left to say. Nothing that would have made any difference. Nothing Senkuu hadn't known already, Yet still-
"I love you, son."
Byakuya hadn't looked back as he walked away, face turned firmly forwards, towards the future.
One day, Senkuu would bring everyone back again. And Byakuya would be there with him. Even if only in spirit.