Chapter Text
It was impossible.
No matter how many books, theories, hypotheses, or calculations you devoured — reaching Senku Ishigami was like trying to calculate infinity with a broken calculator. Your rivalry with him began even before the petrification, 3,700 years ago, back when Senku didn’t even bother to see it as a competition. To him, you were… interesting. But never a threat.
And that ate you alive.
Senku didn’t ignore you. He saw your efforts. Maybe even appreciated them. But in the ruthless logic of a genius, the only way to draw out your true potential was to destabilize your reasoning, mock your arguments, and ridicule every attempt to reach the pedestal where he shined.
You hated him for that. And maybe hated even more the fact that...
you wanted to prove you were worthy of challenging him.
Or worse: of matching him.
Or far worse: of being touched by him, in the way only he knew how to ignite.
Ishigami Village — Laboratory
Morning light filtered through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the flasks and tubes of the improvised lab. Senku stirred the contents of a flask with precise movements, while you watched him from the corner of your eye, trying to keep up with every calculation he ran in his head.
“Do you actually believe in the multiverse theory?” he asked suddenly, as if the topic was as casual as talking about the weather.
“I do,” you replied, confident. “It’s the most elegant interpretation of quantum mechanics. The idea that every choice creates a branch in another reality seems... almost inevitable to me.”
Senku didn’t look at you. He just gave a small smirk, still focused as he carefully added table salt to the sulfuric acid.
“So, if we go with the idea of infinite possibilities, is there a universe where you’re smarter than me?”
You bit your tongue. That wasn’t a question. It was a provocation, meticulously crafted.
“If there are infinite universes, Senku, then yeah, there is. Even one where you’re humble.”
“Hah. The problem with that theory,” he looked up, and for the first time, met your eyes with that mocking glint, “is that it nullifies merit. If everything is possible, then genius becomes luck. Chance becomes king. And in that case, your brilliant existence would be... statistics. Not achievement.”
You froze. The comeback died on your lips. His gaze pierced through you.
“Holy crap... can you speak Japanese or something?” Chrome cut in, awkwardly, carrying a basket of materials. “Multiverse? Quantum what? Are you brewing potions or just philosophizing?”
“We’ll explain later, Chrome.” You gave a slightly embarrassed smile. You had forgotten he was even there.
But Senku hadn’t.
“Nothing to say? No counter-argument?” he nudged, still stirring the green liquid. “Or was that just another pretty quote from a poorly understood book?”
“That’s just your inflated ego talking,” you shot back, trying to regain control.
“Oh, don’t worry. I have exactly one cubic millimeter of doubt about it. Kukuku.”
His laugh was unbearable. The kind of sound that made your blood boil.
“Alright, alright!” Chrome jumped in again. “What about the antibiotic? The fight’s tomorrow! Are you two gonna philosophize while Kinro dies?”
Senku turned, his face now serious. Fully focused.
“We’re going to synthesize chlorosulfuric acid.”
You raised your eyebrows, surprised by the choice.
“We’ll need sulfur trioxide, or at least some form of sulfur oxide. Maybe we can find the mineral in the hot springs where Kohaku gathers water…” you suggested, crossing your arms.
“I’m going!” Chrome already took a step toward the door. “Leave it to me! The king of explorers will find any weird rock!”
“Negative,” Senku cut in. His voice was calm, but filled with finality. “We won’t rely on an unlikely possibility with such a tight deadline.”
He turned, walking over to a chest where they kept materials from past expeditions. He rummaged for a few seconds and came back with a vial in hand. The sound of small stones dropping into the glass echoed precisely.
“What…?” you stepped closer, suspicious.
“These are sulfuric acid precipitates we collected on the previous trip,” he explained with annoyingly simple clarity. “Instead of chasing after a mineral that might not even be there, we’ll use what we already have.”
“Of course. Always your way,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
“It’s not ‘my way’,” Senku said, and for the first time, his voice lowered in tone. “It’s the way with a 99.999% chance of working. And you know that.”
You opened your mouth. Then closed it. The words evaporated like acid vapor against hot glass. He wasn’t being arrogant. He was right. And… cruelly charming.
“I’d even try your way… even if it wasn’t better than mine,” he added, gently swirling the mixture with a glass rod. There was a trace of honesty there. Cruel, but sincere.
“Acid precipitate…?” Chrome frowned. “That’s like… solid goo?”
Senku smiled.
“Two soluble ionic solutions. When mixed, they form an insoluble compound in solid state. It’s a chemistry classic.” He leaned against the bench, arms crossed, as the liquid began to change color. “The kind of thing you should’ve predicted… if you were thinking clearly.”
You stared at the chemical reaction. Crystals slowly formed at the bottom of the glassware.
It was beautiful. It was exact.
And it was undeniably brilliant.
You were speechless.
And he knew it.