Chapter Text
Senku Ishigami is a weird kid; this is something Byakuya has always known, even before adopting him. This creates challenges and obstacles to avoid, but one mistake can have permanent, unforeseen consequences.
Senku had really gotten into batteries recently, obsessed after watching videos on how they were made. Something specific had really gotten to him; the magnetic poles in the batteries he watched being made were small. So he dug deeper and found out how you could do one, only a much larger version. Excitement got to him, and he had to try the next storm.
Byakuya being his father meant he would need permission; he’s only 8 years old, and he felt like he could handle it, but permission is still important to not cause unnecessary worry. When Senku asked, Byakuya seemed hesitant, letting his kid go up to the mountains to play with lightning obviously didn’t feel right. He let him make small ships and test them out with that Taiju friend of his, but they were always at a good distance from them.
Though pleading from a child who makes it a point not to act pathetic was jarring. So, under the condition that Byakuya got to supervise, he reluctantly agreed.
Three weeks later, a storm had finally hit. Byakuya took Senku up to the mountain. Senku had asked if he could bring his friends, but if Byakuya didn’t feel right about letting Senku play with lightning, he definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable getting three other kids involved. Taiju doesn’t even have parents to ask. Yuzuriha’s are strict, so that’s a no off the bat, and it would probably bring their opinion of them down, and Tsukasa’s… well, that kid never talks about home. Makes Byakuya worry at times, so he tries to fill in where he can. Sometimes he gives Senku two lunches so he can share, or replaces his shoes when he notices how worn out they’ve become.
All of this in mind, it meant that he and Senku were going to the mountains alone for this adventure.
When they arrived at the bottom, the gravel crackled beneath the tires, and the rain only started to sprinkle. They had made their way here before the storm started, so they had prep time. Byakuya carried the ‘device’
Said ‘device’ is a long firm handle like that of a spear without a head, then the iron pole was tied to one end of the handle with some thin rubber. When they got to the top, it would be stabbed into the ground, and they would watch from a safe distance until either the storm ended or it was struck. Byakuya had insisted on eyewear, considering you probably shouldn’t look at the lightning.
After around thirty minutes, they made it to the clearing. Senku always went to launch his rockets. Byakuya had to be led to the location as he had never actually gone there before. Only got told if the launches were successful. Each time it was obviously a no, his kid was brilliant, but he’s still a kid, not some Hollywood prodigy from all those shows.
The storm had picked up by then; they had heard thunder multiple times now. Byakuya went to the center of the clearing and stabbed the stick down. The ground was firm, and he probably should’ve either sharpened the end or brought a trowel to dig with. After a few tries, he managed to get it down decently. Senku insisted on piling some dirt at the bottom to make sure it stayed upright despite the wind.
Byakuya went about thirty meters away and put on the glasses brought just for this. He has a smaller pair in his hands waiting for Senku when he’s done.
After Senku makes a small mount around the handle, he runs over to Byakuya, a big grin on his face. Byakuya hands him the glasses, Senku turns to face the pole while opening them to put them on and…
They don’t reach his eyes in time, not before the lightning struck the pole, and an eye-watering light was shining in their eyes. Even through his eyewear, Byakuya felt his eyes water, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. His focus was his little boy, his son, whose eyes were seeing it bare.
Senku was dazed, his ears ringing, and a headache was forming. He didn’t mean to drop the glasses, but he had; his vision was all blurry, and he could just barely make out the blob that was his father begging him to confirm he was alright
Byakuya had fallen to his knees and was desperately swinging a hand back and forth over Senku’s eyes while his other hand steadied his shoulders.
Senku made himself nod, but that was technically a half-truth. He could still see, but everything was fuzzy, and his dad’s features weren’t clear in the slightest.
Byakuya met him with a very tight and shaky hug, and usually they didn’t hug; Senku was never a fan of them in the slightest. But in this moment, they both could agree it seemed appropriate. It also aided in Senku elaborating; he whispered that he could see, but his vision was all blurry.
That made Byakuya worry all over again. They were both soaked when they made it to the ER, the lightning rod forgotten on the mountain. Senku was put through multiple eye exams, asked if he felt any pain countless times. He was honest — headache, fuzzy vision, and the lights were making his eyes water.
The ER doctor who had been helping the most dimmed the lights; really, she just turned them off and opened the blinds so natural light would be all that shone through.
Byakuya wasn’t entirely honest about how this had all happened; he told the doctor that Senku had just been playing outside. It didn’t seem smart to tell them the truth and risk a very reasonable call to CPS. Senku was actually relieved when he heard the lie leave Byakuya’s mouth.
The doctor explained multiple outcomes could be born from this. She starts with the best to the worst, her voice a kind and soothing sound as she spoke, speaking deliberately soft to not irritate Senku’s headache.
First would be that his fuzzy vision only lasts a few hours, his sight will be fully restored, and he can be out playing again in no time. Except during storms for obvious reasons.
Second, there were cataracts; it seems like such a jump from fully restored, but that’s truly an option. It could cause permanent cataracts that will slowly start to form over time.
Third, the worst option was that he got optic nerve atrophy. This means that the nerves behind his eyes may slowly die over time. In a few weeks, he could become fully blind. Even if they catch it now, it’s permanent and incurable.
Byakuya was tense beside Senku, who was seated on a chair. Any option besides full vision restoration was bad, and the list only got worse as it went on.
The doctor left. They were stuck there for three hours. Senku’s vision was fuzzy the entire time, and Byakuya’s hands were tense the entire time.
Senku felt terrified. He had always prided himself on being cool in any stressful situation, but he also hadn’t experienced many, especially something this bad.
The soft light from the window made him wince until he turned his head away. Even that was just too bright and made his nails dig into his palms that lay in his tense lap.
What if he had blurry vision forever? Would he even be able to measure chemicals? Would he need a cane? What would he tell his friends? They would support him, yes, but it’s blindness, not a sprained ankle. What about his science, would Byakuya ever let him experiment again? Would it be forever restricted to soft science? He couldn’t handle that. Science has been his whole life, as short as his life has been so far he can’t go through decades of never interacting with science again.
Byakuya felt terrible. His son, his bright young son, has definitely been traumatized, and depending on the diagnosis, forever permanently damaged. All because he didn’t put his foot down, because he didn’t tell him that it was too dangerous even for someone as brilliant as him.
Sweat formed on Byakuya’s brow, his hands clenching at his sides.
Senku would’ve pouted, but he would’ve pouted with eyes that could see, with eyes that could glare and glare at him instead of into the direction he thinks he is. How would he raise him? How do you take care of a blind kid and the bullying that comes with that? Senku’s already bullied for his smarts and attitude; if blindness accompanies that, he may have to homeschool him.
But maybe… maybe, they both thought, maybe it’ll be the best option. Maybe his vision is just taking its sweet time to become normal again. Maybe it’ll only be a few days of hell, and he’ll be normal again. As normal as someone like him will ever be.
Maybe he’ll…
A click seemed to echo through the room as the heavy ER door was opened and the doctor came back.
Senku was diagnosed with Optic Nerve Atrophy.