Archive of Our Own

It starts, as most things do in the Kingdom of Science, with Gen complaining about something.

Today the sun is setting early. Winter days are short — just a few hours of dim sunlight before the world melts away in dark, gloomy evenings. Even with running electricity, working at the ship has become progressively harder as the season progresses. They had accounted for this, of course; Senku had made a calendar and Ryusui was tasked with construction plans, and then with backup plans, and with backup plans of the backup plans, just to be ready for every possible setback. But the north wind came fast and cruel. Apparently, blizzards are common in the Stone World; all the light fades away and the snow builds up in cold, unforgiving ice. Everything freezes over — the lake, the work, even the people.

In the past few days Ryusui has been doing and re-doing the math in his head — how far behind they are on their schedule and how long it will take, come spring, to catch up. It’s not that bad, per se, just a tad bit worse than they originally thought. But a little delay is not really what concerns him, or the other generals, the most.

Building a ship is no easy feat, especially for a bunch of kids who suddenly found themself in the stone age, but without that distraction there is not much else to do. And boredom is a dangerous thing; it falls quietly, like snow. Ryusui is a sailor and as such he trusts his instinct more than anything else. There are some things he can taste on the tip of his tongue. So he knows that there is a melancholy in the air, a sense of loss still lingering. And when there is nothing else to do, nothing to keep busy with, they all go back to being just a bunch of kids centuries away from home. 

Boredom builds up bit by bit, quiet and cold, and everything freezes over — the lake, the work, the people.

Winter, in the Stone World, tastes like wild things and mourning.

Gen and Senku have been working on all kinds of activities to bring some sort of solace during the dark season. Gen’s magic shows are scheduled every other day, their mangaka is working on a weekly publication that they are managing to mass print with ink stamps; there are fashion shows and theatre performances and a load of winter sports’ gear to be buyed or rented from Nanami’s Sport Store.

But then there are moments like this — when dusk is already over and it’s too early for dinner but too late for snowboarding, or ice-skating, or snowball fights — where everything stills.

Down in the village they’ve built at the feet of the Roppongi Tower, someone is playing the record again. The wind carries the sound all the way up to the Tactics Chamber.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful — you know, since this is the only recorded evidence of civilization left for us from the old world and all that, and our dear Lillian really did have one of the most beautiful voices of our generation, too…” Gen says, with a sigh that makes it impossible to know if he really means it or if he’s just being dramatic. “But if I hear the words ‘nowhere to turn’ one more time I might go azy-cray…”

Asagiri Gen is a shallow man, he likes to complain just for the sake of doing so. Ryusui is pretty sure that most of the time he doesn’t even mean what he says, but this time he finds himself agreeing with their mentalist. Always the same badly-distorted notes, always the same static melody. “It feels like my head is about to explode.”

“No need to tell me,” Ukyo replies with a sigh. He keeps his usual soft tone and even softer smile, but those sea-green eyes are sharp, his gaze is ocean-deep, and Ryusui feels a shiver at the back of the neck. Ukyo tends to have that effect on people. Or maybe it’s just him.

“Poor Ukyo-chan. A top-tier earing-hay can’t always be a good thing, I fear~”

“And yet look who is complaining,” Chrome chimes in, abandoning the seat from where he was trying and failing to follow Senku’s work. He stretches, his back popping loudly after hours bent on incomprehensible papers. “That’s easy for you to say, Gen, you are used to it. Some of us have never heard music like this before! And can you really blame people if they want to listen to it so often? It’s the only song we’ve got!”

Gen stifles a laugh. There is a glint of amusement in his eyes, something mischievous — if their mentalist never means what he says, who can guess what he’s even thinking.

“I suppose not~”

Ryusui looks out from the doorway, to the cloudy sky becoming progressively darker as the last sliver of sun hides behind the horizon. There are tiny specks of light glinting at their feet — an unusual mix of bonfire and lightbulbs. To hear the music all the way up in the Tactics Chamber, whoever is down there really must be blasting the song at top volume.

Ryusui knew of Lillian Weinberg in the old world. Obviously he had bought a VIP ticket for all of her concerts and also met her on different occasions, from backstage to galas to red-carpet events. He supported her just like he did with every other artist, and he quite liked to play her music from time to time, but had never cared enough to learn the lyrics to her songs. Or the titles, for that matter.

Now this song is stuck in his head, and when it’s not bouncing between his ears it’s bouncing all around his ears. He knows that the first time she says ‘one small step from zero’ and the second she goes ‘one small step to hero’, and he is done. This is too much. He has no idea how Ukyo is still maintaining his sanity but he wouldn’t want to be in his place.

“Music is good for morale,” he says. “That people want something to unwind in the evening is only normal. Chrome’s not wrong, but the real problem is the lack of variety. I can’t keep having to listen to the same damn song! I want more!”

No one replies, although Ukyo smiles directly at him this time. It’s an apologetic little smirk, almost like it’s his fault Ryusui is going mad, like Ukyo himself isn’t the one suffering the worst fate out of them all. Ryusui's stomach does a silly little dance.

Silence falls in the room while the pencil Senku is using keeps scratching on the paper without a care in the world. For a few seconds they listen to Lillian Weinberg singing in the distance. It’s too dark to see anything more than indistinct shadows moving down there between the shacks.

“You seem rather unbothered, Senku-chan.”

It takes Senku a moment to register Gen’s voice. In the months since his de-petrification, Ryusui has learned that it is almost impossible to get an answer from their scientist when he’s working on something that requires his full attention. For how much he enjoys explaining in detail every step of his work, he is prone to long hours of silence, and no one can bring Ishigami Senku back to reality when he needs absolute concentration.

Ryusui has also learned that their mentalist is an exception to this rule. Francois once confided to him that they find it quite romantic.

Senku’s eyes lift off the diagrams and numbers scribbled on the paper and focus on Gen.

“Oh, this is nothing for me,” he says. “My dad used to listen to Queen on repeat, I grew up thinking Freddy Mercury was the only singer to ever exist. And also that music consisted of like, three songs in total.”

And just like that he goes back to his math. But this time his hand moves just a little slower and it’s clear that, although he has not stopped whatever was that his mind was doing, he’s still listening. It’s an enviable multitasking ability.

“A Queen fan, huh?” Gen muses, “I myself prefer ABBA.”

Ukyo lights up. “Really? Me too! What’s your favourite song?”

“My my, Ukyo-chan, that’s a ard-hay question… I’ll say Super Trouper, or maybe Lay All Your Love On Me. I was a Mamma Mia fan first, if you get what i mean~”

“Same, although I prefer Money Money Money.”

Ryusui makes a mental note of it. And then he makes a mental note of the way Ukyo’s gaze meets his. It’s a matter of an instant, sea-green eyes sparkling, a skipped heartbeat, something unsaid and thrilling. And, oh, isn’t that interesting?

“Hey hey, slow down! What are you talking about? What’s an abba?”

“You see, Chrome-chan, back in the old world we had a lot of bands who made music, like people singing and playing instruments, dancing, performing… It was super fun!”

Ryusui snaps his fingers. “It’s decided, then! We’ll create the first record label of the Stone World, I’ll call it Nanami Records. I’m sure we can hold auditions to find the next global pop star.”

“And does that look like a good idea to you?” Chrome dares to ask, like he has no idea who he’s talking to. Ryusui is not backing up now.

“It’s not like we can do much with this weather anyway.”

The song ends. There are some blissful seconds of silence, then the record is rewinded and Lillian's crystalline voice starts over. Gen sighs.

“Are you eally-ray sure there is no way to bring back more music from the old world, Senku-chan?”

This time Senku answers without lifting his gaze from his scribbling. “Not even for a centimetre. Even if we created Nanami Records, and even if we woke up contemporary artists to re-record their music, we can’t dig up Mozart or Mercury. All that is one billion percent lost—”

But then he stops.

Ryusui’s instinct is never wrong. There are some things he just knows — that winter is cold and grief is colder, that some people have eyes the color of waves glimmering under the shining sun, sea-green and ocean-deep and mesmerising. That their scientist never lets himself get distracted and no one can guess what their mentalist is thinking. That sometimes the right people find each other. 

Francois thinks that it’s quite romantic, he thinks so too.

Senku Ishigami falls silent, staring at the paper in front of him without really looking. Gen Asagiri lets out a soft hum. None of them say a word, they don’t even look at each other. But there is a rustling of fabric while Gen shifts his weight, Senku’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly upward.

And Ryusui is sure.

These two bastards are scheming something.

*

Lately, Ukyo has been getting abducted at the most random of times.

It usually happens per Senku’s order when there is a job designed specifically for him, and it keeps happening even after Ukyo has made it clear that he’s more than happy to help without the need of being summoned in such unconventional ways. But there are also the times when Gen manages to escape Kaseki and someone else has to keep the old artisan company while he works, Kohaku’s ambushes when she and Chrome need him during their explorations or hunting expeditions, Nikki asking him for an extra hand with keeping order among the numerous fighters in their ranks, and Yuzuriha counting on his patience when it comes to rebuilding statues. More recently, Francois has also started popping out of nowhere with the most unlikely request — it’s no easy feat to sneak up on him, but somehow they manage every time.

It’s fine, really. Even when he has to be in three places at once and even when Francois’ tasks look like they’re really just testing him for something, Ukyo likes to help. He’s happy to.

It’s a little different when Gen takes him by the crook of the arm and leads him to the lab without a chance of parole, smiling in a way that looks like danger. He never knows what to expect when their leader and his right hand man come together with some new idea, but it’s usually something bordering on immorality at best and illegality at worst.

Although to be fair he should have guessed what he was signing up for the first time, when he decided to help them commit identity fraud. It’s no use to complain at this point, and it’s surely too late for any regrets. Ukyo can’t do much more than just focus on breathing and accept his fate.

The laboratory doesn’t have a door, but Ukyo doesn’t fail to notice how quiet the Roppongi Tower is today. The majority of the Kingdom of Science is off to the frozen lake of Ishigami village, enjoying the rare winter sun and clear icy-blue sky, far from their main base. It’s a beautiful day, ideal for ice skating — trust in Gen and Senku to turn it into the perfect diversion for their plans. No one will come snooping around.

He sits between Chrome and Yuzuriha. Kaseki is also here, which means that the entire artisan team is present for this one. And as Senku seems to have gathered some rolls of paper that look like his usual maps, Ukyo can guess that whatever this is about, extra labour will be involved.

Sitting right in front of him, Ryusui doesn’t seem concerned at all — splayed on the lab table with a hand holding his head, a lazy grin on his lips, and not a care in the world. Golden locks are intertwined between his fingers, framing his chin and neck, and it’s maddening, really, why does he have to look like a sultan directly from a fairytale in every situation?

Ukyo focuses on breathing and silently accepts his fate even harder, and that is the moment Gen claps his hands to get their attention.

“Welcome to this uper-say secret council! You will be wondering why Senku-chan and I have gathered you here~”

At his left, Senku scratches his ear with a pinky, acting like he’s not excited at all (he is). “Get on with it, Mentalist.”

“This is about the other day, right?” Ryusui snaps his fingers — trust on him to always catch up with what is happening. “Come on, I wanna hear it!”

“First you have to swear absolute ecrecy-say. Not a word of what will be said here must reach other ears—”

“It's karaoke,” Senku cuts him off. “We’ll have to build instruments and a sound system.”

Gen sighs dramatically, “You are so anticlimactic, Senku-chan.”

Oh. Ok. Ukyo breathes a little better now. This is not so bad. It could have been so much worse, but karaoke is legal. And it will also be appreciated by everyone for sure. Even if instruments and a whole sound system sounds like a lot of extra labour, Ukyo can live with it.

That’s not bad at all.

“THAT’S BAD!” Chrome screams right in his ear. “I’M IN! What’s karaoke?”

“People come together to sing really popular songs really badly, it’s lots of fun!” Gen sums up for him. Chrome screams again.

Meanwhile, Senku has started to unravel his maps on the table, already focusing on the most technical parts with the rest of the artisan team. “I was thinking of at least a couple of guitars, drums, and maybe a piano — or a harpsichord at best, we’ll see. A couple of microphones and some new speakers will also be necessary...”

“Wait wait wait… don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” Yuzuriha asks, and Ukyo can hear the slight tremble in her voice. The poor girl. “It’s one thing to be an artisan, but making instruments it’s almost an entirely different craft!”

Kaseki bends over the maps and everyone in the room is suddenly mentally preparing themself for the moment his clothes will come off. “I’ve already built instruments for the village, are modern instruments much different?”

“Real modern instruments are one billion percent out of discussion, it will all be very amateur. It’s not like we can go and wake up some luthier from the old world. These will be stone-age instruments and we’ll count on nostalgia to do its part. The important thing is to get the tune right.”

That is the moment both Senku and Gen turn to look at him.

“Ukyo-chan, do I have reason to believe your top-tier earing-hay comes with a perfect pitch?”

Ah. So that’s what this is about. Ukyo finds himself tilting the tip of his hat just slightly over his eyes, trying to avoid a certain hazel gaze that is now scorching him. Sometimes, Ryusui looks at him with an intensity that is difficult to endure.

“You would be right,” he admits. And if the tips of his ears are turning red, maybe the hat will hide them too.

Senku and Gen exchange a look. Bingo, Gen’s eyes say. Shut up, Mentalist (affectionate), Senku’s eyes reply.

What Senku says out loud is: “I’ll assume the heir to the Nanami empire took at least some piano lessons.”

Ryusui laughs, loud and bold (and it’s maddening, really, the way he turns every sound more vibrant than ever). “That’s right! But I personally prefer the guitar. And I want an electric guitar, Senku. And I want it red. Francois can play the piano, or the drums, or anything really.”

“Then we’ll involve them too. We’ll need the extra help anyway—”

This time it’s Gen that cuts Senku off. “But this is a very secret project, so please everyone refrain from mentioning it with anyone else. We don’t want to spoil the surprise, right?”

“Which brings us to the next point...” Senku rolls his eyes, “Seriously, Gen, I have no idea why I’m playing along, this is depraved.”

He tries to act like it’s bothering him, but Ukyo hears the way his tone shifts every time he talks to Gen, the soft breath in his words like a muffled out laugh. His voice changes even just slightly, it becomes a little fonder.

Gen smiles like he hears it too.

“Right, we can’t make too much noise. That would efinitely-day spoil the surprise!”

And Ukyo realises, perhaps a little too late, that karaoke may be legal, but one can always count on Ishigami Senku and Asagiri Gen to tamper with the morality of it all. “So… you want us to build instruments, and tune them, but we can’t play them?” he asks, just to be sure.

Now they’re both smiling and there is nothing fond about it. They exchange another look. Muahaha, Gen’s eyes says. Muahaha, Senku’s eyes reply.

“Oh, no, that would be insane,” Senku scratches his ear with a pinky. “We’ll build them in Tsukasa’s cave so that the waterfall will cover any sound. And then we will find a way to bring them from the cave to the village. I was thinking of making dismantable instruments.”

Ukyo can see Yuzuriha’s soul leave her body. Kaseki’s clothes explode.

Gen claps his hands with the most innocent smile plastered on his face. “It will be fun!”

“Not really, no,” Yuzuriha’s ghost faintly replies.

“It will be when we’ll finally celebrate the Kingdom of Science's first grand karaoke night!” Gen retorts. “Just imagine: all the big classics of music revisited, brought back to life by yours truly — I can imitate almost every singer, you know? And you all will have a special place in the setlist, of course. For a very limited time, and for just a very limited amount of eally-ray special, hard-working people, I’m taking requests!”

And Ukyo remembers — a lifetime ago, centuries away, coming back to a small, dark apartment that smelled of dust after months of deployment. Hanging his uniform, taking a long, hot shower, cooking dinner in a dimly lit kitchen, finally getting to sleep in a real bed. A small radio playing ABBA during slow afternoons spent reading a book, while making coffee on rainy mornings. He misses the music.

“Then I want to buy the rights to the first song!” Ryusui proclaims, as everyone should have expected, really.

Gen shoots him an unreadable look, eyes glinting almost dangerously. “That depends on how much you are willing to pay, Ryusui-chan.”

For some reason, it sounds like a threat.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Chrome says, abandoning for a moment the conversation between Senku and Yuzuriha about building pianos without previous experience. “Some of us don’t even know songs to request!”

“We could also play some music from Ishigami Village, it will be a great way to get to know each other’s culture~”

Ah. There it is, their mentalist at work. Asagiri Gen always has ulterior motives, and that’s why Ishigami Senku trusts him with his life.

There is something to be said for forming a community out of two armies that not long ago were ready for war. Some of them have been tricked with false hope by their very leaders. Others are still trying to adjust to the hardships of a completely new life. Everyone is a thread about to snap.

But humanity was born around a fire, after all, in those still moments in between survival, when there was nothing to do but come together to tell stories, sing and dance, listen to each other. In this Stone World frozen cold, where all music has been lost, karaoke might do a small miracle.

“I think we could get it done in a couple of weeks,” Senku states, finally leaving his spot hunched over the table and making his way back beside Gen. “Once we figure out how to transport all the stuff to and from Tsukasa’s cave.”

“Why don’t we include the battle team?” Chrome asks.

“Because that would be the astest-fay way to ruin the surprise.”

“The Big Oaf will scream it out loud for everyone to hear without even realizing it, Nikki I would normally trust, but she’s too much of a fangirl to act calm about this, Ginro not even in a billion years, and Kohaku would surely tell Suika,” Senku lists.

All fair points, but even without telling her anything Ukyo doubts that Suika wouldn’t notice their sudden secretiveness. She’s too smart for that. And if she decides to find out what they’re hiding… “Do you think we can really keep it a secret from Suika?”

“Nobody tells Suika.” Ryusui jumps on his seat, suddenly very involved. “Nobody even makes Suika suspect a thing and that’s definitive. I want that little girl to have all the best surprises we can give her, and they have to be the best surprises ever!”

“That’s the spirit, Ryusui-chan!”

“Okay, then.” Ukyo looks directly at Ryusui, “I’m in, though I fear it won’t be easy.”

Ryusui smiles back at him in a way that makes his heart speed up. “But that’s what makes it worth it.”

(Sometimes Ukyo really just wants to take that maddening handsome face between his hands and drown him in kisses.)

Later, when the super secret council has long ended, the sun is set, and the village is again bursting with life, Ukyo finds himself in Gen’s company — if only by chance.

The things to do and the people to help are all done for today, snow is falling, and the record is playing again. By now Ukyo knows every single carving in the disc, every pause in between the statics and all the points where the needle stumbles.

“Do you think we’ll finally get to put it away?”

Gen huffs, his breath condensing in a little cloud around his lips. “With only one karaoke night? Not even for a entimetre-cay. But hopefully it will be the start of it.”

“So that’s what we’re trying to obtain with this, to wean people off the record.” It’s not a question as much as it is a guess. Asagiri Gen always has an ulterior motive — he smiles like a fox, sly and cunning, in the dark his eyes are darker.

“You know me, Ukyo-chan, I have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m trying to obtain three or four different things at the same time.” He pauses, hands hidden in his sleeves, and now he’s looking at the snow glinting white between their feet. His smile changes, loses his edges, turns softer. “But… the record is made out of glass. It would be a real shame if something were to happen to it, don’t you think? If it was used too much, or too recklessly, and ended up broken… It’s an artifact, after all. It should be treated with more care, so maybe it’s time for a change. I’m sure Senku has thought of it too.” Another pause. Another cloudy breath. And then, even more softly, “After all, Lillian’s voice is not the only treasure kept in there.”

For being a master manipulator, sometimes their mentalist is incredibly easy to read. Ukyo knows him and his ulterior motive — the only one that matters — well enough.

He hears all the things Gen won’t say out loud hidden between the words he speaks. The way his voice changes when he talks about Senku and, even just slightly, becomes a little fonder.

He wonders if Senku hears it too.

*

One might have some reservations about the concept of building instruments and organising the logistics of a karaoke party in the same cave where an enemy turned ally is being kept in a cryogenic state as a last resort to save his life. But if one ignores the big refrigerator-tomb — and also the fact that the only access to the cave is a rope ladder suspended mid-air next to an extremely deadly waterfall — it’s really not that big of a problem.

And Chrome is sure that Tsukasa wouldn’t mind. Once they find a way to save him, they can even throw another karaoke party just for him.

For almost a month they hide and work in the freezing cold on a branch of science that is pretty much all about craftsmanship — like, more than usual. After the first couple of days Chrome ends up with a flu; Ruri gets really worried, Kohaku gets really mad, and Senku just stuffs him in antibiotics. In two days’ time he can use both nostrils again. To think that villagers used to die for something like that. At times Chrome still feels like a child, one whose world has become so big so fast, he’s still trying to catch up with it. He knows how to refine animal skin until it’s paper thin and how to nail it to a wooden shell to make drums, but then Senku asks for a specific type of wood to be cut in an even more specific way, talks about air and vibrations — the same concept they used for the phone now applied to music and Chrome is a child hungry for knowledge, eating it all up.

The world keeps growing and so does he.

They make drums and bronze discs that can be assembled together. There are some similar instruments in Ishigami village, but when Francois tests the new drum kit the sound that comes out is different — a storm approaching, thunders rolling down from the mountains and lightning crashing. Then Gen comes asking for tambourines, too. So they make tambourines that sound like cicadas buzzing during a hot summer day.

Yuzuriha and Kaseki cut and lacquer the wood to form hollow chambers and long necks, Chrome and Senku make different strings out of bronze, nickel, and steel. They assemble several acoustic guitars with different combinations of wood and strings; the work starts getting slower, there are more test and scrapped pieces. Ukyo keeps picking at the strings with a thoughtful expression, Senku keeps tightening them. They start to take cover when one of them snaps.

By the end of the first week the science and artisan teams are sleeping in the cave, Kohaku goes up and down the rope ladder to bring them food and materials, Gen goes with her at least once a day to check on them and their progress. He, Ryusui, Ukyo, and Francois are setting up the most performative part of the show and at the same time managing the Kingdom of Science while their leader is effectively a hermit living in a cave with no sunlight or contact with the outside world, so Gen has taken it on him to inform Senku on everything that’s going on. Sometimes they discuss in ushered tones and shared glances, probably to not let Kohaku find out about the karaoke. She looks around the encampment, studies the figure of the drum kit covered with a shroud and all the scraped bits and pieces of wood and metal, seems very disappointed about it all, but doesn’t ask any question. Chrome wonders how Gen managed to convince her to help without knowing anything of what they’re doing.

Finally Ryusui gets handed the first acoustic guitar of the Stone World. He picks at the string in a not so different way from what Ukyo did for the last few days, turns and fixes the tuners until he seems satisfied with the sound. He plays some notes with increasing confidence in the instruments. Chrome has never heard a sound so warm, so sweet.

Then Ryusui makes direct eye contact with Ukyo and plays an entire song.

“I can’t believe the first serenade of the Stone World is Money Money Money of all songs,” Gen whispers. Senku snorts. Yuzuriha shushes them both.

If Ukyo hears them he doesn't seem to care. He looks like he can’t decide between laughing, crying or straight up killing himself — or Ryusui.

Chrome has the impression that something just happened and he didn’t get it.

They build another guitar. Apparently this one has to be red. The body needs a different shape, and while Kaseki and Yuzuriha focus on woodworking, Chrome and Senku build electromagnetic pickups, an amplifier, some cables and generally a lot of electric components. They also revisit the whole sound system they had made for theatre performances.

Ryusui’s smile is so big when he finally gets his red electric guitar; Chrome can’t help but think that this one is the coolest of them all, because it sounds like science — it’s evolution, the sweet notes from before moulded into new sounds, music turning into something different. So Ryusui starts teaching him how to play. 

Christmas comes and goes. Gen insists on getting them out of their hermitage for the festivities, Chrome has a good time playing in the snow with Suika and Kohaku, he watches the Christmas lights with Ruri — her hands are warm even in the cold weather. 

The snow doesn’t reach the cave, it melts near the waterfall. They spend almost two weeks working full time on the piano. It’s so much bigger than a guitar, so much more complicated than a drum kit. Between short naps and broken keyboards, band’s rehearsals and scarce winter light, the days start to blend together.

Gen passes by and takes away Yuzuriha for some ‘absolutely ecessary-nay’ wardrobe changes, so now they’re down two hands among other things. Ukyo tries to help as much as he can with strings and hammers, but he and Ryusui are busy trying to distract the Kingdom of Science and Suika specifically. Senku says something about how they’re really just trying to win the custody battle, Gen tells him that Suika still prefers them. Chrome is way too tired to get the joke. Kaseki is crying.

They divert on making new microphones for Gen, although he already has microphones from his previous performances. Chrome would know, he helped build them. New Year’s Eve comes and goes, Yuzuriha comes back; they leave the Kingdom entirely to Ryusui and force Francois, Gen and Ukyo to pull an all-nighter with them. Chrome just hopes they’re gonna come back to the Kingdom of Science and not Nanami’s Empire, but he tells himself that if Ryusui were to attempt a coup Tsukasa would certainly start rolling in his grave and they would know something is wrong. Then he tells himself that maybe he’s going crazy. He starts to scream whenever Gen tries to complain.

And the piano is done, finally.

It’s beautiful, terrific, majestic. A monster of science and craftsmanship — one finger on a plastic key, an invisible hammer beating on a string hidden in the belly of the beast, chords vibrating, sound wavering. Francois plays something for them that sounds like a rainy night and Chrome feels that beautiful sense of satisfaction that only comes at the end, when all the hard work suddenly makes sense. Suddenly, with perfect clarity, he can see that karaoke night is gonna be so, so bad.

Then Gen asks for more colored spotlights and sparklers visual effects and Chrome is about to tell him exactly where he can shove it all, but Senku is already noting down everything they need.

Ishigami Senku is not the kind of person that would jump off a bridge just because Asagiri Gen told him to do it, but he’s surely the kind of person that would build the bridge for him.

And if Senku is building something, Chrome will take part in it. He likes to be included.

So here he is now, setting up the new stage lights while Senku and Kaseki finish assembling the piano Kohaku brought in pieces from the cave. Compared to theirs, his job is pretty easy — just a matter of putting up different colored lightbulbs in the right order and then connecting everything with the control panel to make sure they’ll be turning off and on at the right time — but the lights are making the stage way too hot for a January evening. All their coats have been piled up in a corner and Chrome is covered in sweat, even more than Kohaku that has been carrying stuff for hours. The only thing he can think about is that if he catches another cold Ruri is gonna worry again.

“Everyone is already here!” Suika announces, spying from a gap between the curtains. She’s beaming and full of energy, “They like the seats!”

For how much they’ve tried to keep the whole karaoke thing a secret, she still realised that something was going on and insisted on helping how she could. The clearing in front of the stage has been adorned with fur pelts and cozy sacks to sit on and plenty of blankets and small fires to keep everyone warm.

“We’ll start in ten,” Gen says, although he’s still in his usual clothes and Senku and Kaseki have just finished with the piano. Ryusui is strutting down from one wing to the other sporting his new outfit that matches his red guitar, Yuzuriha right after him mumbling about the right amount of studs on a leather jacket. Ukyo is desperately trying to hold a conversation with Francois, red faced and fidgeting, he really must be suffering the heat.

Chrome is not so sure they’ll be ready in ten.

“I still have no idea what this is all about,” Kohaku points out, rather disappointed.

“Right,” Suika agrees, “and how does this work?” She has found one of the guitars they left backstage and is now studying it with great interest.

“Stop right there, Suika-chan,” Gen catches her hand when she goes to pick on a string, and then takes her in his arms while Ukyo gets the guitar and runs to hide it again in one of the wings. “Or you will give away the surprise.”

Kohaku crosses her arms, unamused. “It better be as good as you promised, Gen.”

“Wait just a little bit longer and you’ll find out~”

She looks like she could jump him at any moment, but Senku puts a hand on her shoulder before she can make up her mind about it. “Ok, Lioness, let’s get you off the stage before you murder the main performer. Chrome, hurry up.”

“You guys go ahead, I’m almost done” Chrome mumbles. He hopes that Senku will let him finish setting everything up for himself. It's all fun and games to build stuff together and learn new things, but sometimes he just wants to prove he can do it too.

Luckily, this is one of those times when Senku lets him do his own thing. He’s too distracted trying to get Kaseki, Kohaku and Suika to follow him and Ukyo off the stage, and also shooting back a last grin to Gen. “I did my part, Mentalist, it’s your time to shine.”

If Chrome wasn't busy trying to finish up the last few remote electrical connections, he would point out that everyone did their part, what is he talking about?

“Well, well, Senku-chan finally stepped away from the stage.” He hears Gen’s mutter right as he sets in place the last light. “I was afraid we’d never get rid of him.”

“Just hurry up and put this on!” There is a rustle of fabric as Yuzuriha strips him of his purple coat to get him in his stage costume, much to Gen's complaints. “We’re on in five!”

All done, Chrome hurriedly makes his way off the stage, catching only a glimpse of Gen’s outfit as he goes.

He joins Senku and Kohaku at the far end of the clearing, standing behind the rest of the crowd, keeping a watchful eye on everyone. After hours under the warm lights, the freezing cold of the new year is almost nice. Basically the entire Kingdom of Science is here, everyone is eager to know what all the fuss of the last couple of weeks has been about, Chrome can feel the excitement in the air.

“Listen up, Senku, I’m pretty sure Gen was wearing that same—” he starts, but that’s the moment the stage curtains open.

Silence falls on the clearing almost immediately. One single cone of light shines on Francois sitting at the piano and someone from the old world is already gasping at the instrument when a second cone lights up the centre of the stage — exactly as Chrome has set them to do, that’s bad!

Gen is definitely wearing one of the outfits that Senku had tried on during Minami’s first photoshoot. He recognises the white tank top and tight pants, the black belt and even the little armband shining under the lights.

“Tonight,” Gen starts singing right at the same time Francois hits the piano, with a voice that’s not his, in a language that Chrome doesn’t know. Next to him, Senku inhales sharply. Like he recognises the song by the first note alone. “I'm gonna have myself a real good time. I feel ali-i-i-ive. And the wooorld, I'll turn it inside ooout, yeah, I'm floatin' around in ecstasy. So!” 

“Don't!” literally everyone from the old world sings, or rather screams, as if they all knew exactly what they needed to do. “Stop! Me! Now! Don't! Stop me!”

“‘Cause I'm havin' a good time! Havin' a good time!” Gen answers the crowd's excitement with his own. Francois changes the rhythm and what started as a rather slow melody becomes fast and lively.

"I'm a shootin' star, leaping' through the sky like a tiger, defying' the laws of gravityyy! I'm a racin' car, passin' by like Lady Godiva! I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stoppin' meee! I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit, I'm traveling at the speed of light" Gen winks right at Senku, there at the edge of the clearing, like he knew exactly where to look for him. "I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!"

Senku’s expression is unreadable. Chrome has never seen him cry, but maybe that’s his face when he tries to hold back tears. His lips are a pale, thin line; he hangs his head low and covers his eyes with one hand, almost like he’s regretting ever having anything to do with Asagiri Gen, who is currently dancing on stage like a madman.

“Don't stop me nooow!” the crowd screams. At some point Yuzuriha must have given out the tambourines and people are playing them to the beat of the music.

“I’m havin' such a good time, I'm havin' a ball!” Gen sings.

“Don't stop me nooow!”

“If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call!”

“Don't stop me nooow!”

“'Cause I'm havin' a good time!”

“Don't stop me nooow!”

“Yes, I'm havin' a good time, I don't wanna stop at aaaall, yeah!”

Even the villagers are enjoying it, without needing to know the song or the words; the music and Gen’s performance alone are enough to spark excitement. There are people singing and dancing together, laughing and crying at the same time. Karaoke is so bad!

“I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course, I am a satellite, I'm out of control! I'm a sex machine, ready to reloooad, like an atom bomb! About to oh, oh, oh, oh—”

“Oh, explodeeee!”

“I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit! I'm travellin' at the speed of light! I wanna make a supersonic woman of you!”

“Don't stop me, don't stop me,” the crowd keeps chanting and Gen keeps inciting them, dancing on his own, Francois skilfully accompanying him with their music. 

Chrome suddenly realises that this is exactly what Gen used to do in the old world. This is him in his element. He has a glow about him that’s the same one Senku gets when he’s doing science. The same call Chrome feels when he’s lost in exploration.

The third light turns on, and the sparklers, and Ryusui does his guitar solo like he was born for this. Chrome decides that what Gen is doing is very cool, but electric guitars are cooler.

“Ooooh, I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit, hey! Travellin' at the speed of liiight! I wanna make a supersonic man outta you, hey, hey!”

Then he notices that, right beside him, Senku’s shoulders are shaking, and although he still refuses to move his hand and actually watch the show, he’s grinning.

More than that, Ishigami Senku is full on smiling. Kinda like an idiot, too.

“Senku, are you alright?” Chrome asks when he finally drops his hand; but he can see from the look in his eyes that Senku is not even there. He’s somewhere else, too distant to hear Chrome calling for him — at least at the other side of the clearing, in top-row right under the stage.

As the song reaches its final notes, Senku picks up one of the unused blankets and starts making his way towards Gen still dancing under rainbow lights.

Chrome turns to Kohaku, not sure how to approach this matter, but a burning question has started forming in the back of his mind, and he really needs to know he’s not the only one that has noticed something rather unusual.

“Do you think Senku is in love with Gen?”

Kohaku opens her mouth to answer, stops, looks at him for an unnecessary amount of time, almost like she’s trying to understand something most absurd.

“You just noticed that?!”

*

Gen smiles when he gets off the stage and finds him waiting in the small space between the theatre structure and the rock face; for a very dumb moment Senku finds himself thinking that under the moonlight he shines like platinum.

“Did you like the surprise, Senku-chan?” he asks, still breathless, leaning on the wall behind him and taking a long sip out of his flask.

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously. Gen seems already pretty satisfied with himself.

There are some things they simply don’t say. There is no need, not between them. Their affinity is all about the subtext — Senku has spent a whole life explaining things to people that needed details, but Asagiri Gen understands him in the way of someone who speaks the same language. It’s easy, like second nature.

You must be freezing, Senku does not say while draping the blanket around his shoulders. He can feel the body heat radiating from him, Gen’s skin is lucid with sweat, the tank top soaked and sticking to his chest, his breath heavy, his lips wet with water. You’ll catch a cold, Mentalist.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asks instead.

“Why, but since the beginning, obviously~”

On the other side of the stage, Nikki seems to have beaten Ryusui to the microphone. One would think that the Nanami heir would be eager to go first, but he’s been behaving rather strangely this evening — Senku just knows that his mentalist has something to do with it — and he limits himself to accompany her with the guitar while Francois switches from piano to drum kit.

Nikki starts singing Lover by Lillian Weinberg — three thousand seven hundred years later and Senku still remembers the discography of a singer he didn’t even used to listen to, damn his father.

“You said ‘dad’, remember?” Gen’s voice is almost a whisper between the notes, his eyes stay on the flask in his hands. “Usually you call him Byakuya or Old Man, but you said Dad, and I thought I wanted to do something for you.”

“You made me plan a whole ass concert just because I said dad?”

Gen lifts his gaze on him. He does not say Happy Birthday, Senku-chan, nor What do you think of your present? Does it compare to last year’s? Did you really think I was going to use the same tactic twice? He just smiles at him and for another, even dumber moment, Senku thinks that Asagiri Gen is what the moon must be like.

But he does not say that he did not care for birthdays, before him.

“How did you know the song?”

Gen’s smile turns sly, “A lucky guess~”

“Mmh.” Senku really doesn’t want to believe it, but there would have been no logical way for him to find out one of Byakuya’s favourite songs. It's as simple as that — Asagiri Gen has turned his world upside down more than three thousand years of petrification could ever do, and keeps turning it over like the moon turns the tides, just to prove him how wrong he is one more time. How much he still doesn’t know yet.

He would have liked you. You two would have joined forces against me, to annoy me to death.

Senku does not say Will you dance with me, just this once?

Instead he offers his hand and says, “Come on then, let’s dance.”

Gen accepts with a chuckle. “Oh my, Senku-chan, are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Don’t push it, Mentalist.” 

He pulls him in, away from the wall. Gen makes an extra step, so that his foot ends up between Senku’s and the distance between the tip of their noses is barely a breath.

“Statistically it was bound to happen at least once in our lifetime, you know.” Gen squeezes his hand, the other finding its place on Senku’s shoulder, a thumb mindlessly stroking his collarbone. In an involuntary reflex, Senku’s grip tightens a little around Gen’s waist.

“And what do you know about statistics?”

“Absolutely othing-nay~”

They start swinging gently, almost but not quite to the beat of the music. Senku raises his arm and Gen twirls under it.

Never in one billion years would he have imagined to end up slow-dancing in a dark alley threaded between a rock face and a wooden wall, on a freezing January night, away from people and prying glances.

It’s actually nice. Gen’s hand fits in his in a way that can only be described as natural. Their steps match with ease, just like their minds do.

He does not say any of that.

“Now I want to know how you convinced Ryusui to let you go first.”

“Curious much?”

“You know me,” he smiles because it’s true in ways he can’t even begin to explain. “There’s no way he gave up his spot without something in return.”

“Firstly, semantics. Technically he beat me to it when he played Money Money Money, so I got the opening number. Obviously that wasn’t enough for him, I also helped stage his love confession.”

“So that’s what that solo was about.”

“He was eager to go first, but you simply cannot start a karaoke party with a love confession. It’s acky-tay. You need to break the ice first, get everyone going and only then you can—”

Take A Chance On Me starts playing, everyone immediately starts singing, and Senku pulls back just enough to shoot a look at Gen. You got other people onto this? After all the secrecy talk?

“Money can buy silence, Senku-chan. And a chorus to sing Take A Chance On Me a capella like ABBA intended, apparently.”

There are dumb moments like this — when Gen looks at him with shining eyes full of mischief and he’s the most exhilarating thing ever to exist — in which Senku really wishes that Byakuya got to know him.

Oh, he doesn’t say, because he barely allows himself to even think about it. Oh, he would have adored you just as much as I do.

“At least they’ll stop pining on each other in the middle of our meetings.”

It’s Gen’s turn to make him twirl. “What do you think our friends think of us, dearest?”

“That’s one billion per cent not my problem. I can’t believe we’re missing Ryusui serenading Ukyo in front of everyone.”

“We can go back, if you want.”

He does not say that he doesn’t really mean it, and Senku does not say Let’s stay here just a little longer, they’ll manage without us.

“It’s karaoke, after all. You shouldn’t be the only one singing.”

“Right~”

Take A Chance On Me ends in a thunderous round of applause and whistles, but they keep dancing even in the pause of the music. Even when Nikki comes back with another Lillian song — Mastermind, this time, she’s such a romantic.

“So, what do you want me to sing next?”

“I thought you didn’t take requests once the show started.”

“Usually yes, but you get the ecial-spay, premium treatment.”

“Really?” Senku grins, “And why is that?”

Gen doesn’t answer. There are some things they don’t need to say. He just looks at him, eyes shining — and he is the moon.

“Then do Father To Son next.”