Chapter Text
If you were to ask Senku Ishigami what he thinks of “Great mentalist and magician” Asagiri Gen, he would tell you that the guy is a fraudulent trickster, a terrible writer and a pretentious loser.
That was a while ago, though.
Trashy mentalist, 11.03:
So, Senku-chan, remember when we made that un-fay bet you SWEARED you were going to win? Check this out~
*Attached link*
Trashy mentalist, 11.04:
Guess who was right and who was rong-way, dear… you owe me an ice cream now~
( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )
Because, as of today, Senku can confidently say that the guy is also a slimy deceiver, a competitive whiner and a total asshole.
He looks down at his phone:
Me, 12.27:
C’mon mentalist, it was all a matter of possibility, we both had a 50% chance to get it wrong.
(¬⤙¬ )
Trashy mentalist, 12.29:
Mmh, perhaps… but who is it that DID get it right, dear? Me~
〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜
Me, 12.29:
Shut up.
(≖_≖)
Senku had never expected that, after the Gala, the two of them would have ended like this: sure, they exchanged numbers, but the sole reason they had to contact one another was to finally put an end to their debate and declare the rightful winner between science and mentalism, not for this.
When Senku had to reluctantly admit that Gen had won their challenge —but vocally pointed out that that didn’t mean mentalism was better than science even for a millimeter— he had expected the other to never contact him again, especially since, for a celebrity like Asagiri, sharing personal information was a rather risky move.
Instead, the following day, the magician had texted him again, a simple:
Trashy metalist, 08.37:
Great ay-day ahead of you today, Senku dear?
And Senku had replied.
And then had kept replying.
Text after text, day after day, their topics of conversation had greatly varied, from scientific research and interesting psychological breakthroughs to every day, mundane things, like funny teasings, venting rants and amicable bets.
Senku told himself that it was illogical to keep texting the other, especially since this shift in conversation topics did not serve him any type of purpose or brain-stimulation: it was just a waste of his time!
…but that’d be a lie, though.
Because talking to Asagiri is always, somewhat, surprising: due to his higher than average brilliance, Senku’s not really used to being outsmarted, not in fields like research or debate, and yet the mentalist is able to hold his own against him with ease.
And Senku really, really likes that.
He had been baffled, at first: it wasn't common for him to become attached to someone that easily, to someone he had no particular prior interest in, and especially to someone he genuinely thought he disliked; yet, the simple “debate acquaintances” relationship he had with the mentalist had slowly, inevitably, started shifting.
After all, Asagiri is smart, incredibly so, and, even if his favourite topics of study are nowhere close to Senku’s, that doesn’t mean his input is unwelcomed; so, even after a month of impromptu conversations, the young scientist has yet to stop and, on the contrary, he’s often the first one to seek the other out.
It’s getting ridiculous.
Senku finds himself thinking about the magician way too often: from seeing something interesting and thinking “Uh, who knows what that fraud would think of this…”, to “Ah! This article proves I'm right! Take that, you bogus magician—” and “Mmh, I’m not sure about that… let’s ask the fucker…”
In the end, the mentalist’s on the tip of his brain more often than not.
Senku’s not stupid and he had realized pretty early that the constant pull he felt towards his phone —and his father’s knowing looks, dammit old man— had to mean something; in the end, he’s been forced to admit it: he’s starting to consider the other more than a simple acquaintance.
He’s not really sure what that means, though.
Hell, at this point a day won’t pass without the other’s notification popping up on his phone screen: they text each other often, though, due to both of their very busy lives, discussions often stretch through multiple days at times, yet neither of them ever let the conversation die.
God, evenTaiju had realized he was more attached to his phone than usual, and the shorter boy had to reassure his friend that no, big oaf, I’m not falling for on of Dr.X’s crazy ideas, I’m just texting with someone— for the other to stop worriedly peeking over his shoulder to look at his screen.
Still, conversing via texts it’s not the same as doing it in person, a fact that had started to annoy the younger teen: Senku and Gen had not seen each other again ever since the Gala and, if Senku has to be honest, he did not think they ever would.
Seems like he’s wrong, though: guess he owes the magician an ice cream now.
He huffs an amused laugh, grabbing his phone with both hands:
Me, 12.39:
When do you get back, so I can get you that ice-cream? Let’s do it quickly, I don't want to hear you whine like you always do.
(¬_ ´¬ )
He can already imagine Asagiri’s answer, a flourish I don’t whine! Meany, Senku-chan, meany— with a myriad of angry emojis following and some weird, eccentric food request, and the thought has him laughing quietly to himself: for being the self proclaimed “greatest mentalist who ever lived”, the guy could be absolutely easy to rile up.
He’s about to send another text when a hand taps his shoulder, making him startle, “Earth to Senku!”
He snaps his head up to meet Yuzuriha’s brown eyes, “So, Senku, which one did you put?”
“...Uh?”
She shakes her head, laughing gently, while Taiju’s voice booms, “We are talking about question number seven, Senku, which answer did you put!?”
The young scientist blinks, finally putting his phone away as he turns towards his friends: they are sitting on the school roof top, enjoying some spring air as they eat their lunches, chatting amicably as they compare their latest test’s answers; he must have been more caught up on his phone than he realized, if he didn’t even hear the question.
“...I put B, that was the correct one.” He replies, smiling fondly when Yuzuriha beams and Taiju deflates realizing he had gotten it wrong, “Don’t worry big oaf, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just one wrong answer.”
“That’s right Taiju! Ryuzuki-sensei is very understanding and, also, she sees how much effort you put in her class! I’m sure it’s gonna be fine!” The girl reassures the brunette boy, patting his shoulder in comfort; Taiju’s face flames, and Senku snorts when the big oaf awkwardly stutters his thanks.
Looks like his best friend’s crush is still raging hard.
“Anyway, enough of that!” Yuzuriha suddenly exclaims, clapping her hands together as she zeroes on the scientist, “Senku, you have been pretty entrenched with your phone lately, so much you have started zoning out! Care to share why~?”
Her smile is kind, but her eyes have a distinctive mischievous glint in them, and Senku can’t help but being a bit scared at the sight: looks like her intuit is as pointed as the needles she handles.
“What? Senku has not told you? He said he’s always texting with someone!” Taiju interjects enthusiastically, before turning towards his childhood friend, “Though you have not said who this person is…?”
Next to the big oaf, Yuzuriha’s eyes light up, both brunettes now looking at him expectantly; Senku sighs, “It’s just a guy I met a few weeks ago: remember the Gala me and Byakuya went to? That’s where we sa-agH—” Senku’s voice gets cut off by a wheeze as Taiju suddenly grabs him by his shoulders and shakes him.
“Wait! You met him at the Gala? He must be super important then!”
When Senku finally gets his footing back, shoving Taiju’s away by putting a hand to his face and pushing, forcing the older boy to release him with a ah, sorry Senku!— the young scientist mumbling something about too many muscles and too much energy, does Senku finally answer, “Nah, nothing like that,” he frowns, thinking about the mentalist whole… deal, “just some trashy mentalist-wanna be.”
He sees both Taiju and Yuzuriha tilting their heads astonishedly at his words, before the girl chirps out, “Oh, so he might be pretty likable if he managed to get your attention like… that…?” she trails off, confusedly staring at Senku’s expression.
Senku’s not sure what his face looks like right now, but by his tone it is clear he disagrees with her words, “Absolutely fucking no,” he shakes his head to emphasize his statement, “I have never actually met anyone more insufferable in my life.”
Taiju and Yuzuriha, in front of him, share a quick, confused look, blinking owlishly before the big oaf’s face lights up, an idea clearly forming in his head, “Ah! Then this guy must be super duper smart, right?!”
Senku pauses at that, humming and sticking his pinky in his ear as he looks up, pensive: the mentalist is exceptionally cunning and, even if he has skills and knowledge which are completely different to Senku’s, the young scientist still recognizes and respects him; so, yeah, turns out the big oaf is kinda right.
“Mmm… I guess he does have his own thing going on...”
He shrugs, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he clarifies, “Still, no way in hell he’s important, nor likable, don’t you ever say that to him: his ego is far too inflated to handle these words without popping.”
He gives a small chuckle while his friends smile, intrigued, “Well, Senku, you should introduce us one day then!” Yuzuriha says as the big oaf excitedly proclaims that’s right, Senku! You totally should!
Senku looks up, imagining the scene: Taiju would probably bounce around like a 95 kilos muscle wall bouncing ball at the idea of meeting someone new, while Yuzuriha would probably act like a calm and gentle mediator between the big oaf’s excitement, Senku’s exasperation and Asagiri’s teasing.
The mentalist would probably be the worst of them, trying his hardest to embarrass and poke fun him, flourishly pouting and whining while Senku’d have to deal with his friends’ scoldings of don’t be mean to him, Senku—
It’d be a mess.
It’d probably be pretty funny.
He smiles, amused, before shrugging once more, raising his hands as if in defeat, “Meh, maybe one day, depends if that trashy mentalist deserves it.” He jokes, making his friends laugh.
He looks up at the sky, smile still on his lips as, at his side, Taiju and Yuzuriha start chatting together; Senku feels excited at the idea of meeting the other again, though he definitely knows it’ll be a pain: he's sure that Asagiri will jump on the chance of boasting about his winning bet and Senku’s also fairly sure he won’t let him ever forget it.
Asshole, he thinks.
He’s smiling, though: he sent the text, so, now, all he has to do is wait for an answer; he’ll see what the mentalist will say.
It’s late in the afternoon when Asagiri finally texts back, Senku’s phone lighting up on his desk as it buzzes; when he unlocks it, he can’t help but let out a loud snort:
Trashy mentalist, 18.12:
First thing first, I don’t whine, Senku-meany!
ᕙ( ᗒᗣᗕ )ᕗ
Trashy mentalist, 18.12:
Second thing second, I’ll be back from Kyoto in two ays-day, dear! I’ll collect my prize then~
I want double whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles!
(๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)
Ah, Senku thinks, smiling amusedly, I knew it.
In the end, they had decided to go to a place Gen recommended via phone and the two boys had agreed to meet around 16.00 to get their treat; so, here is Senku, standing under the shop sign, eyeing it suspiciously as he waits for the mentalist.
The bastard is late.
Senku puffs his cheeks, absentmindedly kicking a pebble with the tip of his white snickers as he shoves his hands in his denim jacket’s pockets: even though days are way less cold than before, the cool May spring breeze could still get you and Senku is glad he had the foresight to wear something warm over his grey sweatshirt and jeans.
He’s about to fish his phone out and text the other where the hell are you at— when someone stops next to him; raising his gaze, he blinks when his eyes meet a pair of dark shades.
“...what the hell are you wearing?”
Asagiri pouts, “Ah, rude! How is this the irst-fay thing you say to me, Senku-chan! Meany!” He whines, puffing his cheeks in indignation and childishly stomping his foot, making his checkered tote bag sway with the motion.
Senku hums, observing the other: he might have been a bit too harsh considering that, beside the shades, the mentalist is dressed pretty unremarkably, with dark pants and a white polo, the collar peeking out from under a soft looking lilac colored cardigan.
“Eh,” Senku starts, “why are you even wearing sunglasses when the sun’s barely out? Also, you are late, mentalist.”
Asagiri tuts, “I know you don’t believe me when I ay-say it, dear, but I am famous: trust me, it’s better if people don’t recognize me, or you’d be in for a un-fay afternoon, Senku dear~”
He looks around, “Better if we get inside-yay, actually, it’s less risky this way.” He says, grabbing the handle and opening the door for the younger boy; once they enter, Senku stops dead in his tracks: the place’s walls are painted in various pastel colors, with soft cushions and a few booths enclosed by tinted glass walls through which you could see little bunnies lazily hopping around.
The suspicious shop sign outside, adorned with two cute chubby bunnies, one black and one white, suddenly makes much more sense:
They are at a pet cafè.
Asagiri goddamn Gen just brought me to fucking a pet cafè.
Senku feels his eye twitch.
At his side, the mentalist raises a hand to remove his glasses as he gives an exaggerated wave to the only employee in sight, “Hello Miri-chan~”
The server, a lithe brunette with a short bob and a cute bunny hairclip keeping her bangs out of her eyes, politely bows as she stutters, “W-welcome back to our establishment, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Asagiri-sama!”
Senku’s eyes widen astonishedly, “The fuck—” he starts, but a hand siddenly pulls him fowards, successfully shushing him, “Thank you Miri-chan,” Asagiri sings-sangs, pushing Senku towards a table in the corner of the room, “We’ll be sitting at my able-tay, I’ll see you later for our order~” and then, the mentalist all but shoves him in their booth.
“What the hell—”
“Hush, Senku-chan, or you’ll scare the abbits-ray~”
After sitting down, Senku finally speaks, “Wait a second, hold up, did she just call you Asagiri-sama? The fuck?!”
The mentalist smiles cockily in the face of the teen’s indignation, “Senku-chan, when you have a fan base as big as mine, you have to expect things like this,” he hums, putting his tote bag on the cushion next to him as he flourishly brings a hand to his heart, “it’s not easy to manage such big harem of cute fangirls, but I do what I an-cay~”
At Senku’s disgusted face, the mentalist finally breaks character, laughing wholeheartedly, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding Senku-chan! I told you to stop frowning like that or you’ll get wrinkles~” Gen yelps when a kick to the shin cuts him off as Senku crosses his arms.
“So, she’s not a fan then?”
Gen hums, massaging his aching leg, “Oh no, she totally is, dear.”
When Senku frowns, the mentalist sighs, “Miri-chan opened this place around a year ago, and I happened to stubble upon it: it’s really cute, yet she did not have many visitors back then, and I thought it was a real pity, considering how great this place is,” he grabs the menu in front of him, adorned with little carrots, “this is not only a pet cafè, Senku dear, but also a rescue center for bunnies.”
He raises the menu, showing a second sheet of paper underneath and passing it to the younger teen, who takes it curiously, “On this aper-pey you can find all the information about each bunny they have and, if you are interested, you can adopt them!”
Senku curiously looks at the paper, adored with chibi replicas of the animals around them, also decorated with little colorful carrots and with little hearts surrounding each bunny’s info slot: it’s clearly made with love.
In front of him, Gen tilts his head, “I’ll have you know, Senku dear, that I quite like bunnies myself, so I had to do omething-say about this cute little shop,” he smiles fondly, “that’s why Miri-chan and I made a deal: I promote her work and, in exchange, I get to come here once in a while to see the little angels while the place closes temporarily, allowing me to enjoy the stay without fans bursting through the door!”
“...I see,” Senku says carefully, before frowning again, "still, it’s weird she calls you that.” He huffs when the mentalist gives a little laugh, “So, do you have pet bunnies then? I don’t think we ever talked about something like that.”
Gen hums, “I used to when I was a child, but now that I live alone I can’t keep any: as you know, I avel-tray a lot for work, and it’d be unfair to the poor creature to carry it around Japan —or the globe— because of it.” He smiles, “I can arely-bay keep my plants alive as it is, so forget a whole animal-ay!”
Senku blinks at the new information, “I had no idea you lived alone.” He states and Asagiri blinks, “Really? It might not have ome-cay up…”
Then, he claps his hands, “But enough of that dear! Go on, pick something from the menu! After all, I have been ating-way for my treat for two days now and I’m kinda hungry~” he jokes, making the other snort.
“Eh, alright, but it’s your fault you are hungry, you were the one late, not me.”
Asagiri deflates, “You are right about that dear, and I apologize! Rehearsal lasted longer than anticipated and also, after finally getting out, traffic was so jammed I got stuck in the same block for almost ten inutes-may, can you believe it!”
He pouts, but his whine gets cut short when he meets the other’s eyes: Senku, who had been reading through the menu options, has suddenly looked up, dumbfounded.
“...You have a car?” The teen asks, voice dubious and bothered at the same time.
Gen blinks, “I– I do, yes?”
Senku’s frown deepens, “And you drive?”
The mentalist, clearly confused, looks at the other dumbly as he answers, “Uh, yes? Of course I do? That’s what one does with a ar-cay after all—”
“And they let you drive?” Senku interrupts, concerned, but his facade’s breaking as his mouth fights back a smile, “Someone gave you a licence?”
Gen pouts, offended, finally realizing the other’s been messing with him, “Of course I do, you meany! I’ll have you know that I’m a great-ay driver— Don’t you laugh at me!”
When Senku doesn’t stop, the older boy throws a tissue at him, “Rude, Senku-meany! Dumb move, see how I’ll order the pricest thing on the menu now!”
“Eheh, it’s worth it, you bogus mentalist.”
When Miri, the server, finally steps closer with a notebook in hand, Gen smirks menacely at the other, “I’ll show you worth it, Senku-chan…"
That night, when Senku comes home, Byakuya’s waiting for him on the sofa, “Welcome back, dear son,” he smiles, “where did you go today, leaving your poor old man all alone on the last day before his departure for the great Americas?” The mean teases, sitting up as he watches his son remove his shoes.
“Eh, I went out with the mentalist today,” he pouts, “I lost a bet and I owned him a ice cream, and the fucker all but choose to go to a pet cafè—” he starts, absentmindedly telling his father about his day as he changes.
Senku frowns, thinking to himself while his old man cheerfully explains to him his lovely video date with Lillian— as his son tunes him out: in the end, Sanku has to admit that the place him and Asagiri went to had turned out to be really good, both his coffee flavoured milkshake and the mentalist’s “double-whipped cream and extra rainbow sprinkles gelato cup, with cookie crumbles, chocolate syrup and fresh strawberries slices”— had been exceptionally tasty and, even if the venue had been three too many shades of pastel colors for his personal likings, the atmosphere had been calm and tranquil.
Even the bunnies had been nice and quiet, making the experience different but enjoyable: he remembers how the mentalist had seated on one of the pillows on the ground, gently running his fingers through the soft black and white fur of this one is my favourite, Senku-chan! His name is Oreo-chan— as they chatted; Senku himself isn’t a big animal guy, but he also fell for those floppy, furry ears, scratching them lightly as the little caramel colored bunny in his hold nimbled at a carrot treat.
He has to admit it: the afternoon he has spent with the mentalist has been a lot of fun and he hopes there will be other opportunities to meet again.
He wonders what that entrails.
“So,” Byakuya smirks, breaking him out of his thoughts as the man throws him a knowing look, “did you have fun with your new friend?”
And, at that, Senku’s brain comes to a sudden halt as the loose dots in his head finally connect.
Friend: by definition, a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, someone you enjoy spending time with, whose company you seek and opinion you listen to, who knows you and your tells, your likes and dislikes.
That’s what friends are.
Friends.
He and Gen are friends.
And they have been such for a while, at that, since well before today’s meet up; Senku wonders, all of a sudden, how that happened: he and the mentalist had not had the best first encounter, exactly, yet even back then, at the Gala, they had managed to spend quite a few enjoyable and stimulating hours together, which had led to them exchanging phone numbers and seek each other out.
Then, their text chains, long and stretched through weeks of conversations, keeping Senku entertained and excited —and humble, at times, he has to admit— teasing and witty, fueling Senku’s brain and curiosity non stop, making him laugh and curse and then laugh again as topics and days went by.
And, at last, this late afternoon: it had been fun, very fun, but especially, Senku realizes now, it had been intimate and relaxing, something that the teen has never felt with anyone outside of Taiju and Yuzuriha, his best friends of literal years.
That’s completely unprecedented.
“Have you made a new friend?” his father had asked him, weeks ago, during the car ride after the Gala, and Senku had waved him off, sure that the man had gone crazy with a suggestion like that.
Now, all he can do is bury his red face in his hands at the sudden realization: he can’t believe his father had been right and, mostly, he can’t believe he had not realised earlier.
Well, Senku finds himself thinking, that's embarrassing.
Dammit Byakuya and his foresight.
Senku and Gen by dear @Layluzz Thank you sm they are so cute!