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“So, the girl Taiju-kun likes is Yuzuriha, huh?” exclaimed Shiba—the science club secretary who often left tablets on the lab table. In front of him, the science club president, Ishigami Senkuu, never once lifted his eyes from the test tube in his hand, still focused on attempting to create gasoline from bottle caps.
“That big gorilla is quite bold,” Kanda replied with a sneer, holding a thermometer in one hand while tapping his glasses with the other. “It’s kind of surprising that a blunt and energetic guy like Taiju-kun is into a calm and gentle girl like Yuzuriha-san. Like a horned owl longing for the moon.”
Hearing his friend’s cynicism, Shiba grimaced. “You’re kinda harsh, Megane-senpai.”
The bespectacled vice president shot him a cynical glance, snorted irritably, and returned his focus to the task at hand. Shiba was about to resume his own experiment when a knock echoed from the lab door. He glanced at the club president, who remained absorbed in his work, and finally took the initiative to open the door himself.
Standing beyond it was Tachibana Miko, the high school’s primadonna and the vice president of the student council—beloved by all.
“Oh, Tachibana-san. What brings you here?” asked Shiba, his cheeks flushing as he gazed at Miko’s lovely face.
Just like her name, the girl before him was as beautiful as a shrine maiden. A tall, slender figure like a model, silky hair, captivating violet eyes, and a charming smile. Whether she would become an idol or not remained to be seen, but 90% of the male students were already fanboys of this girl.
“Anyone who dates her is incredibly lucky,” Shiba praised inwardly.
Her violet eyes scanned the room, falling upon the club president who continued to ignore the new arrival in the lab. Shiba asked, “Are you looking for the club president? Is there a student council meeting or something? If so, Kanda-san can handle it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Our president is far too busy to waste oxygen like that,” Daichi mocked.
Miko shook her head, her gaze soft like a shoujo game heroine. “There’s something personal I want to talk about with Ishigami-san.”
Kanda turned his head, sneering, “That’s what she said, President.”
The president sighed in annoyance. He finally turned around, brows furrowed, muttering like an old man, “What do you want?”
Shiba stepped aside, allowing the high school primadonna to enter the lab. When they faced each other, the girl bowed and held out her hand to Senkuu. In her hand was a letter wrapped in a pink envelope adorned with heart stickers. Everyone in the science club were top-ranking geniuses. It was easy for them to deduce what the high school goddess was about to do.
“The school primadonna is confessing to Ishigami Senkuu!”
Everyone thought the same thing.
Except one person—
“What’s that?” Senkuu asked flatly, unfazed. “A warning letter about the school’s budget or something?”
BLAM!
Lightning metaphorically struck the science lab, freezing everyone like stone statues. There’s no way a genius like Senkuu didn’t realize the high school primadonna’s intent. No way, right?
Miko, though momentarily shaken, remained strong. “Ishigami-san, these are my feelings for you.”
She continued with a soft, persuasive tone, once again like a shoujo protagonist who could conquer any male character. “Last week, you helped me catch the stalker targeting young girls. At that time, you truly felt like a hero to me. I really admire you.”
Sadly, that honeyed tone didn’t work on Senkuu, who casually scratched his ear. “Ah, that. I told you it was nothing. I just happened to be looking for that stalker for a while now.”
That statement struck the school primadonna’s face like a slap. The same went for the science club members who ‘somewhat’ idolized her. Who would’ve thought Senkuu could say something so cold to the girl who saw him as her hero?!
“Coincidence?” Miko asked in disbelief. “Was it just a coincidence that you helped me back then?”
Perhaps because she had been the school’s primadonna for so long, the girl possessed a fairly high level of narcissism. Senkuu certainly noticed that—but he didn’t care. He replied flatly, “Ah, my friend had a problem with that bastard. So I hunted him down—and this and that happened, and that’s how it went.”
Tears welled up in Miko’s eyes, her violet gaze shimmering with sadness, her once-charming smile now evoking sympathy. One hand still extended her love letter—now slightly crumpled from being gripped too tightly—while the other wiped her tears like a wounded princess.
Meanwhile, Shiba observed the scene from near the entrance, enjoying this rare romantic comedy performance in the science lab. Beside him was Daichi, offering sunflower seeds—from who knows where, maybe his Doraemon pocket—as a popcorn substitute. Shiba happily accepted the sunflower seeds, softly humming, “Hmm, caramel flavor,” as he tasted them.
Kou, who usually never averted his nearsighted eyes from the computer monitor, now turned away from his electronic wife. He chose to watch the cheap drama instead, to ease the furrow in his brow. Kanda, still as serious as ever, remained focused on his tablet and glasses, though his ears were wide open for the latest gossip.
“Even so, I...” Miko cried out, eyes glistening, staring at Senkuu. “Even so, I still love you. Please, please be my boyfriend—”
The rejection came as swiftly as the confession. Senkuu spoke as if he were fed up, as if they’d all been wasting precious time on something completely pointless. “Sorry. I’m 10 billion percent not interested. Go find someone else.”
The rejection left the girl crushed. But for the science club members, it was nothing new. They were used to seeing girls confess to their president and get flat-out rejected. It was honestly a little sad—how their nerdy, bookworm president could attract women so easily.
“The girls before were no less beautiful or influential than Tachibana-san,” Shiba muttered.
“Ah,” Daichi agreed while chewing sunflower seeds. “Three months ago it was the daughter of a programmer, right?”
“And two months before that, it was a scientist’s daughter,” Kou added, somehow having moved from the computer desk to their side, sneaking some sunflower seeds. “Then one month ago it was the daughter of someone in the JSDF—or whatever. I don’t remember.”
“Don’t forget the daughter of the famous model Megumi and model ‘White Snow’. Even though she didn’t follow in her parents’ footsteps, she’s still drop-dead gorgeous,” Daichi clicked his tongue in frustration. “Our club president really is a lady-killer, huh?”
Their attention returned to the figure who had become the subject of their daily gossip. There, Miko still hadn’t accepted the rejection. She protested, “But why? Please give me a chance. I can benefit the science club’s budget with my position as vice president of the student council. Please reconsider me, just once?”
“Oh, she said it,” Daichi smirked mischievously, the way he always did before making a bet. “100 yen if Senkuu accepts her offer.”
Kou munched a handful of sunflower seeds and swallowed them in one gulp, replying, “200 yen says our president will reject her.”
Shiba rolled his eyes. No need to bet to know the very obvious answer. In front of them, Senkuu rubbed his face in frustration and stepped forward to take the love letter from Miko, holding it in his hand. That action gave Miko a flicker of hope—that her confession had been accepted.
Shiba also chimed in, “Hmm, maybe Miko is the President’s type.” A remark that was immediately cut short as Senkuu threw the letter into the flames burning the gasoline. The paper burned to ash as quickly as Miko’s hope was crushed.
Senkuu sighed in irritation, glaring at Miko with annoyance, making Shiba think, “This is when the President’s classic rejection line comes out,” which was proven right when Senkuu muttered dully, “I’m not interested. Leave.”
Then those red eyes turned to the three who were lazing around with sunflower seeds in their mouths like squirrels. “And you guys, stop slacking off or I’ll douse your books in sulfuric acid.”
Shiba scratched his head sheepishly, while Kou stole another snack from Daichi’s doraemon pocket and returned to his computer desk. Daichi simply shrugged and hopped away, grinning. “Oya-oya, looks like the President rejected another girl. Makes my dumb brain wonder, what kind of girl is his type?”
Senkuu stood sideways, shooting Miko a cynical look as he remarked, “My type is someone who doesn’t interfere with my work or experiments.”
That was a direct hit. A sharp jab that made Miko back away and leave the lab with tears in her eyes. Shiba closed the door behind her, sighing with sympathy. Even so, even though Miko had a massive fanbase at school, none of the boys dared go against a scientist with over ten dangerous chemicals in his pockets.
They might love their goddess—but they still wanted to live.
Even so, Shiba still wondered—“I wonder what your type really is, Senkuu. The girls who’ve confessed to you are always so different from each other, but you’ve never accepted even one of them—ah, speaking of which, my type is the Onee-san character.”
Daichi received the test tube handed to him by Senkuu, only to toss the task onto Shiba. He said, “Eh, you’re pretty pervy too, Shiba. I prefer the Imouto-type characters.”
Senkuu and the entire science club stared at Daichi with disgust. Their eyes said one thing: “Lolicon!.” Meanwhile, Kanda, who had the most mature mindset among them, shouted, “Kou, call the police!”
Daichi showed no remorse as he revealed his type of girl. He simply laughed proudly. Meanwhile, Kou shouted from behind his monitor, “Okey-dokey—oh, can I join? My type is idols like Vtuber Deredere-chan. She’s going live at 8 PM—everyone, please support her.”
Upon hearing that, Senkuu and the entire science club facepalmed in unison. They were caught in a dilemma—whether to mourn the fact that their innocent clubmate had become a fanboy of a 2D character that might, just might, be played by a bespectacled old man behind the screen, or to laugh at his genius-level intellect that was so incredibly naïve.
Kanda scolded Kou, “Kou, be careful when using the internet. You should know this better than anyone, right?” Kou replied innocently, “Hmm, understood. So, what about the vice president’s type of girl?”
Kanda’s hand on Kou’s shoulder twitched. He walked away with stiff steps, pretending to be busy to avoid the question. But the science club members, driven by curiosity—especially a mischief like Daichi—would never let such a golden opportunity slip by. After a bit of coaxing, Kanda slammed the table and shouted proudly with a clenched fist.
“A nyandere maid! A proper Yamato Nadeshiko! That is my ideal!”
That statement was downright shocking coming from someone as serious and stiff as Kanda. While the others laughed and teased him, Shiba turned to their president and asked, “So, what’s your type of girl, Senkuu?”
Senkuu, who had been listening the whole time while keeping his hands busy with work, replied with a bored tone, “My type is someone who doesn’t interfere with my work and experiments. If they bothers me during research, I will never entertain them—no matter the reason.”
Shiba laughed. “As expected of you. So pragmatic.”
Shiba had known Senkuu since their third year of junior high, so he knew for certain that the words of this scientist, who upheld logic and science above all else, were absolutely true. If Senkuu said “that’s my ideal type,” then it was a fact—“that is Senkuu’s ideal type.” Amazing, really. From all the girls who had confessed to Senkuu, not a single one had matched the scientist’s unreasonable criteria.
“It feels almost impossible for Senkuu to have a girlfriend, let alone a wife,” Shiba thought. “Except maybe science itself.”
That was what he thought.
Until a second later, the ringtone of an incoming call rang from the club president’s phone, which was usually in silent mode. Shiba watched as Senkuu picked up the call without a second thought. The voice on the other end came through clearly, though it was hard to tell whether it was male or female. But Shiba and the other club members felt like they had heard that voice somewhere—from a certain TV broadcast, maybe.
“What do you want, you stupid futaneko,” Senkuu muttered in irritation. No surprise there. Their president had already been bothered twice in a single day. Perhaps this unfortunate soul—who turned out to be a futanari—this unfortunate futaneko, was about to get a scolding.
The ears of every science club member perked up to eavesdrop as the conversation continued for nearly a full minute. It was surprising that Senkuu didn’t immediately hang up and put his phone back in silent mode. “Who is this special person?” they wondered.
“I’m in the middle of an experiment. Just get to the point,” Senkuu demanded impatiently.
“Hah?” Senkuu barked in frustration. It seemed the caller was really testing his patience. “You said no one’s picking you up? Are you an elementary school kid who doesn’t know how to ride a train?”
Alright. Shiba had gathered a few facts. This futaneko—whom Shiba assumed was one of Senkuu’s annoying friends (according to Senkuu himself)—was probably asking for help. Or, in this case, a ride.
The caller apologized and whined about booking an online taxi or something like that, preparing to end the call when suddenly Senkuu shouted, loud enough to make Kou lift his head from his monitor.
“Stay where you are and don’t wander around, stupid cat,” Senkuu snapped. “I’ll be there in 2 hours and 45 minutes.” Just like that, Senkuu turned to Kanda and said, “I’m leaving early. Don’t forget to lock the lab before you go,” then returned to the call, grumbling, “And you—keep your location on before I tap your phone.”
Shiba and the others watched as their president grumbled, as if his pet cat had just caused a mess at home—scratching up the couch and smashing a flower vase. They exchanged glances, silently asking the same question.
“The president said he wouldn’t entertain anyone who interrupted his research, right?” Kou murmured.
Kanda adjusted his glasses. “Maybe there’s a small exception for a friend.”
“But this is different from Taiju and Yuzuriha,” Shiba added.
Daichi shrugged, twirling two fingers and whistling. “Maybe it’s an exception to the exception.”
Maybe so.
Maybe the pragmatic scientist had a special variable—an irresistible and tempting anomaly, just for himself. Or something like that. Shiba didn’t get the chance to think further, because a few weeks later, he saw a green flash—and his consciousness faded as though he had fallen into a deep sleep.
3,700 years later, when the towering buildings of Tokyo had been replaced by lush forests and steep cliffs. When the wide asphalt roads of Shibuya Crossing had turned into damp and rugged earth. When the smooth fabrics of clothing were replaced with woven straw and animal hide. When those who called themselves Nanami Corp led him and his high school friends—who had just been revived from stone—to the government building for a long explanation of history. Shiba realized that life had truly left him behind by a full ten thousand years.
“So, basically, our club president Ishigami Senkuu was the first to wake up, discovered the stone-breaking fluid, drove off the evil alien Medusa from the moon, and rebuilt human civilization. Right?” said Kanda—ever the one quickest to grasp the situation and adapt.
At that moment, Shiba knew one thing for certain: Ishigami Senkuu, the Dr. Stone of the new world, had truly captured the hearts of women around the globe with his brilliance
Just as Daichi had said—“That’s cheating, club president. He must’ve had hundreds of thousands of women fall in love with him and propose. Who the hell is that person? Could he still be dating science?”
“Hmn, maybe someone influential in the new world. Maybe a fellow scientist who helped rebuild civilization. Could be someone in the military or a government official. Maybe even a doctor. The possibilities are endless. But one thing’s for sure—that person must be amazing,” Kanda remarked.
“Even so, we don’t know for sure whether the President actually has a partner,” said Kou.
Shiba thought the same thing. And as if the gods were answering their curiosity, the latest news flashed on the TV screen mounted on the wall. There, Senkuu—now looking several years older than them—was seated alongside astronauts who had once fought on the moon. Each of them had five microphones in front of their faces, along with dozens of pointless questions.
“Dr. Ishigami Senkuu, what’s your ideal type of partner?”
“Dr. Senkuu, are you currently seeing someone?”
“Dr. Ishigami, we heard you were close with Luna Wright. Did you date during the previous U.S. conflict?”
“Dr. Stone, could you tell us—who did you propose to right before the crew landed on the moon?”
Daichi clicked his tongue in irritation. “Aren’t they all just asking the same question?” Then his eyes sparkled like a fox. “Wanna bet again?”
Kanda protested, “Stop it. We’ve just been revived and have nothing on us but the clothes we’re wearing.”
Their attention returned to the screen, where Senkuu responded in his usual way, pinky finger in his ear. It made them think, ‘Ah, of course there’s no partner. It’s Senkuu, after all. What were they expecting?’
But surprisingly, they were all dead wrong.
“He’s a futaneko—male, annoying and troublesome, like a cat circling your feet and interrupting your research.”
“As for type? He’s good at acting, and can be a caring Onee-san character or a cheerful imouto character like that Vtuber Deredere-chan. Oh, he’s also cute when they act all nyandere in a Yamato Nadeshiko kimono.”
“Oh, and if you ask about their family background—well, it’s impressive. One of their fathers was a scientist who helped complete the two-way rocket and rebuild civilization. The other was a former military officer who flew our rocket. Their uncle’s a machine technician from the U.S. elite military unit. Yeah. In short, they’re incredible.”
“That’s all I’ll say.”
The announcement left all gossip-hungry reporters speechless. Each one of them was stunned by Ishigami Senkuu’s response. Beside Senkuu stood a female futaneko and the rocket’s assistant pilot, the two of them exchanged sly smiles and chuckled. Meanwhile, the main pilot and sharpshooter, Stanley Snyder, looked like he was just moments away from pulling the trigger.
Shiba didn’t know whether Stanley actually pulled it or not—because the press conference had abruptly cut off.
Right after that, the broadcast ended and switched to international news—or more precisely, from America. It was a talk show featuring a special guest, a diplomat from the Kingdom of Science. Shiba and the others instantly recognized that face—it was the same one that used to grace the cover of Magic Psychology magazines they’d read in the lab. The same face that showed up on TV programs they always had on in the background during overtime at the lab. Even though Senkuu constantly criticized the person’s appearances, he’d get pissed if anyone dared to turn it off.
Daichi whistled. “So that street magician ended up becoming a diplomat of the Kingdom of Science in the new world? Fate really is full of surprises, huh?”
Shiba nodded in agreement, eyes still fixed on the broadcast in front of him. After it ended, they all went home with blank stares and empty minds.
A few days later, the four of them gathered again over cups of coffee—with a few things still weighing heavily on their minds.
“That magician’s name is Gen Snyder-Wingfield. Turns out he’s the son of Xeno Houston Wingfield and Stanley Snyder—the scientist and pilot who played a huge role in the new world,” Kanda explained while adjusting his glasses. Everyone nodded in unison.
“And he’s become a top diplomat who united the entire world with nothing but honey-sweet words.” Kanda continued. Once again, they all nodded.
“And he wears the same silver ring that Senkuu wears on his finger. Which means he is….” Kanda growled, and the others growled along with him.
Then came the explosion.
“Damn you, Ishigami Senkuu! He turned down so many influential girls back in high school. Pretending that his type was someone who ‘doesn’t interfere with his research’ and all that crap… damn it. And in the end, he got a wife who’s—Tch!—absolutely amazing!” Kanda was the first to curse. “A wild wolf, a cunning snake, a fierce crocodile—every ideal type we ever dreamed of got stolen by that damn Senkuu, all wrapped up in the form of Gen Snyder-Wingfield!”
Daichi crossed his arms behind his head. “I always thought he’d be hopeless in the romance department. But no, he ends up with a superstar. And on top of that, his fiancé is really hot, isn’t he? Not only did he help save the world, but now he’s got a sexy wife too? That’s just unfair.”
Though Shiba agreed with his friends’ sentiments, deep down he genuinely felt happy for their club president. He reached for the wedding invitation on the table, stuffed it in his pocket, and stood up with a grin. “Alright then, let’s see just how ferocious our science club president is when it comes to devouring his new spouse. I brought a new experiment from the stone world—it’s called the simplest contraceptive device.”
Daichi smirked like a villain. “Oh, you made that? But it can’t beat my gift.” He pulled out a wrapped dark chocolate treat shaped like a Valentine’s gift. “My experiment is chocolate that boosts human pheromones.”
Across from him, Kanda and Kou weren’t about to be outdone. They unveiled a large box filled with costumes that would make anyone’s nosebleed and smiled wickedly. Kanda declared, “Let us celebrate our science club president’s wedding with this ultimate experiment.”
“Ishigami Senkuu, this is our gift that transcends three millennia.”
.
.
Epilogue:
Ishigami Senkuu deeply cherished his friends, especially his old high school science clubmates. They were his partners in crime back in that tiny club, and gossip buddies during every heated discussion about ideal types—though Senkuu mostly just listened and joined in silently.
So when Senkuu found out they had been revived, he sent them his wedding invitation with Gen. It was his way of repaying them for the times he never really joined their romantic banter in the past.
But little did he know—those partners in crime were just as wicked as he was.
When he opened their wedding gifts the night after the reception, only one thought echoed in Senkuu’s mind:
“I want to try everything with Gen. Especially that cat costume. Except for that contraceptive thing—even if the wrapper says it comes in various candy flavors.”
Apparently, his mind screamed as loudly, and that scream shot up like a rocket and slammed into the moon’s backside.
And what did Ishigami Senkuu get in return?
Nothing less than sleeping on the couch.
On his wedding night.
Still a virgin.