Chapter Text
“Eh?! Ryusui-chan really did that?!”
Sitting in the lab, Gen chooses to ignore how much of a distraction he is to the scientists in the room. Chrome, Suika, and Kaseki have claimed a break for themselves, while Joel hovers between his duties and their conversation, clearly not daring to join in fully. Only Senku and Xeno press on with their work, their voices weaving together in exchanges and technical jargon that only the two of them could possibly understand.
“He did!” Chrome insists. “You should have seen Ukyo’s face when he realized it! He was so embarrassed he kept looking away, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes, but everyone just used it as an excuse to pile on!”
Saying he doesn't think Ryusui capable of turning an unwilling photoshoot into a massive ad campaign with Ukyo’s face plastered everywhere would be a lie, but it seems his ambition and greed truly know no bounds. Suika’s laughter echoes Chrome’s words, and Gen joins in on the fun, despite the slight twinge of regret at not having been there that day to tease Ukyo properly.
“I hope you kept a copy for me to see!”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure Ryusui did, you should ask him!” Suika explains, still giggling.
Gen will have to make sure he gets his hands on it, then.
“And did you know that Ginro got arrested?” Chrome continues enthusiastically.
“Arrested? But isn't he in the police?!”
“Yes, that’s exactly why Kinro was so furious! He had to go pick him up himself to bail him out!”
After spending so much time away from them, Gen is amazed by how familiar it all feels; how everything seems so different, yet completely unchanged. He listens attentively as Chrome spins his tales, his own laughter mingling with Suika’s time and time again.
“Well, you guys certainly have plenty of gossip for me. Feels like I’ve been gone for over ten years!”
Which, truth be told, doesn't feel like much of a stretch. Even though Suika and François had given him a quick run-through on everyone’s situation, one small story keeps following another, to the point where he almost forgets about the wedding reception still in full swing a short distance away. The party has probably already started, yet here they are, still lingering.
Even if he’s useless to them, more of a distraction than any real help, Gen can't bring himself to leave.
“And did you know about Ruri?” Suika asks, an innocent, genuine smile lighting up her face. She glances over at Chrome, waiting for a reaction, but he remains completely unfazed.
“You mean for the wedding? Yeah, I heard about that from Kohaku-chan!”
Despite the pointed look Senku throws their way, unapologetically glaring with silent reproach at how much of a distraction he's being, he doesn't actually say anything. Gen chooses to ignore him and steer the conversation back to Ruri and yesterday's proposal.
"That must have been stressful, Chrome-chan! Did you prepare beforehand?"
Chrome blinks a few times. "Prepare? For what?"
"Proposing to Ruri-chan, of course!"
"No? We were watching Taiju and Yuzuriha, and they just looked so happy!"
"Wait, so you weren't planning on asking Ruri to marry you yesterday?" Suika asks, surprised.
"I mean—well, no. There's no way I'd ever marry anyone other than Ruri, that's for sure! But I wasn't planning on talking to her about it yesterday, that part wasn't planned!"
"Eriously-say?!"
"How could you be so sure she'd say yes, doing it on a whim like that? Were you even dating?" Joel inquires, finally joining the conversation for real.
Chrome squints as a faint flush creeps onto his cheeks.
"I'm not stupid or completely blind, you know," he huffs, pouting slightly. "It's just that it was one thing after another... first Ruri was sick, then there was the whole Why-man situation... It wasn't really the right time to bring any of that up, that's all."
Gen's mouth parts in shock. Despite himself, his mind replays all those old memories where Chrome, having feelings he never truly hid, had seemed pretty oblivious.
"Chrome-chan... You're actually a lot more observant and mature than we give you credit for."
"Hey!"
"Are you guys done or what?" Senku’s weary voice cuts in, without him even bothering to turn his head in their direction. Despite how casually he tries to come off, Gen realizes he isn't fooling anyone in defending Chrome. And him least of all. Recognizing that so easily after years apart from Senku brings him and odd sense of comfort.
A debate breaks out over how observant Chrome surprisingly is, but Gen tunes it out. For a moment, his eyes drift over to Senku’s silhouette, who is once again fully focused on the massive machine hogging all his attention.
Physically, he hasn't really changed in the two years they spent apart, except for his clothes. But his red cape, made by Suika long years ago, is still tied around his shoulders. The fabric is worn now— riddled with holes, even. But Senku doesn't seem to care in the slightest. Just the sight of it pulls Gen back for a moment to their journey to the moon. Gen had followed it from afar, of course, but he still remembers clutching this cape, which Senku had left in his care, through every moment of doubt... far more often than he would ever dare admit.
"By the way, Gen, how long are you staying in Japan?" Suika asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Oh? That's a good question, Suika-chan."
"It's been a while since we last saw you around here!" Kaseki adds.
"Yeah... But I have no idea." he muses dramatically, before flashing a loaded look at the scientist, who only meets his eyes with a raised eyebrow. "For now, I have a few days off, maybe a few weeks if I'm lucky. Unless Senku-chan decides to ship me off to the other side of the world, of course..."
A dry huff escapes Senku's lips as he points the piece of lab equipment in his hand at Gen, looking both provocative and utterly detached all at once. "That depends on whether you plan on distracting the team every single day like you're doing right now," he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.
"That's ean-may, Senku-chan. I haven't seen anyone in so long!"
"Yeah, yeah," Senku says, digging a pinky into his ear. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm the only one working here."
"I'll have you know your best friends are literally getting married as we speak, you shouldn't even be working in the first place! And you're not the only one, since Xeno-chan is also... Eh, where is he?"
Only now does Gen realize that Senku stands alone in front of their massive machine.
"Xeno? He left a bit ago. Stanley came to get him, so they must have headed back to the reception!" Chrome chimes in.
So focused on everything Chrome, Suika, and Kaseki were catching him up on, all the daily moments he missed while traveling the world to unite nations in Senku's name, Gen realizes he probably let himself get a little too carried away by nostalgia. He couldn't really picture Xeno as the type to enjoy weddings enough to sneak away from the lab, but maybe things were different when the request came directly from Stanley; even if he couldn't quite picture him that way either.
"Besides, I already went to their wedding yesterday," Senku answers with a shrug. "You should've gotten here a day earlier."
While the playful provocation in his eyes and tone is clearly meant to keep their usual banter going, Gen still feels a tiny pang in his heart.
"You left before it was over," Suika reminds him.
“Well, that's true,” Senku admits, unbothered.
“Onderful-way! You know what? Enough lab for today. For all of you,” Gen says, pushing himself up before clapping his hands together. A broad smile stretches across his lips, the kind he’s been flashing to his audience for as long as he can remember. Senku furrows his brows.
“Ha?”
“Yep, curfew time! In Xeno-chan’s absence, it falls on me, the responsible adult, to watch over you all.”
He manages to avoid Kaseki’s gaze.
“We’re all adults here,” Chrome points out. “Even Suika.”
“Sure, sure. Come on, everyone back to the wedding! Let’s go enjoy these final moments of such a special day with Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan!”
Despite his grumbling, Senku allows himself to be led as Gen positions himself behind him to push him toward the exit. The feel of his palms against the fabric of Senku's cape feels familiar, even if the material is coarser than it used to be. Gen swallows down the lump in his throat and raises his voice again as they all file out of the lab.
His palm catches a sudden, phantom chill the moment it strays from Senku’s body heat. He keeps his smile fixed in place all the same.
The party is in full swing when they reach the garden where the event is taking place. The mild spring temperatures in the late afternoon don't seem to bother anyone. Senku is greeted by Taiju as if he were the main character of the day, and despite all his protests, the scientist fails to break free from his bear hug.
Gen stays back and leans against a tree while everyone gathers around them. Seeing them all gather like this brings a feeling as soothing as it is nostalgic. Today, everyone goes about their own business, living their own lives. But there was a time when they lived together, stuck side by side for months. Years, even. A time when their daily lives were one and the same.
Far away from them, Gen hadn't really been aware of time slipping by. Now, he feels it in full force.
Senku manages to break away. He elbows his way out of the crowd to put some distance between them, his face worn out from the effort. His exhausted expression involuntarily pulls a soft laugh from Gen. The sound seems to catch his attention, as he turns in his direction after spotting him.
“Is that really the face you're choosing to show your best friend on his wedding, Senku-chan?”
“Oh, shut up. It's the big oaf we're talking about, he doesn't even care about things like the face I make.”
“I guess you're right,” Gen smiles.
For a moment, they remain like that in a comfortable silence, their eyes fixed on their gathered friends and the conversations taking place. Chelsea is clearly trying to kick off a dance party, her arguments winning over an enthusiastic Taiju, whom Gen isn't sure he wants to see dancing. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Senku sinking further back against the tree they're both using for support, obviously ready to vanish into thin air if the prospect of dancing comes anywhere near him.
“Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan look so happy,” Gen notes, his voice naturally soft without him even trying.
“If you only knew how much he talked our ear off about this wedding,” Senku sighs.
“It makes sense... We're talking about Yuzuriha-chan. After all, he stayed conscious for over three thousand seven hundred years just thinking about her. A wedding is almost not romantic enough to capture all that, don't you think?”
The mere thought of staying conscious for that long sends a chill down his spine. Taiju wasn't the only one who had done it, as Senku was the first to spend those millennia counting every single second. But Gen knew he would never have been able to do it himself. The bare memory of the void, the utter lack of sound and sight that he had experienced multiple times, still caught up to him on occasion. Yielding to the loneliness and allowing himself a brief rest was, in his eyes, the most rational, least painful option.
He gladly left the agonizing countdowns to Senku.
“Maybe so,” Senku admits, his voice carrying a gentle warmth that bordered on fondness.
Gen watches him for a moment, lingering on every familiar detail of his figure, the rare emotional gleam in his red eyes as they stay focused on his two friends. Even if he hadn't returned to Japan over the last two years, he had been on the phone with Senku regularly for work. It wasn't as if Senku had become a stranger to him, and yet... Seeing him like this carries Gen far back into the past. To an era he was trying to forget. A time when they were just two men from the modern age in the middle of a still-primitive village.
Somehow, he kind of misses it.
“Hey, Mentalist, it's not like you to leave so much emotion on your face. You're usually better than this,” Senku teases him, his eternal smirk lingering at the corner of his lips.
Gen winces. “It’s just strange coming back here after all this time,” he admits, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “There are so many buildings I didn't see get built, so many people I don't know because I wasn't there when they were depetrified. Everyone has their own life now. And some have a much more relaxing one than mine, you know!”
He hears Senku let out a puff of laughter, somewhere between amusement, exasperation, and something tender.
“And you're saying I'm the one dampening the wedding mood?”
“How ean-may, Senku-chan. And here I am, opening my heart to you!”
“You’re overthinking this,” Senku says calmly. “Even if we're all busy, nobody’s changed.”
“Eh...?”
“What? You think I didn't see the look on your face back in the lab while Chrome and Suika were catching you up on their stories?”
Something seems to lift from Gen’s shoulders, a weight he had been trying to ignore all day that is finally dissolving. He forces his mask back into place and lets a broad smile spread across his face.
“Oh? So you’re aware of it, Senku-chan? Does that mean you’re going to stop shipping me off to the other side of the world for a while?”
“Don't push your luck. Just make the most of your time here for now. It’s not like we're gonna have a wedding to celebrate every month, so who knows when you'll be back next time?”
Gen pouts, his lips pressed together, and lands a light, harmless swat on Senku's shoulder. It draws an amused huff from Senku, who merely digs a pinky into his ear to show off his usual nonchalance. Further off, no one is paying them any mind, with most of the crowd lost in the rhythm of the musicians and the dance moves kicked off by Chelsea and Nikki.
“Do you know where you’re staying while you’re here?” Senku asks, his voice calm and surprisingly serious.
“Thank you for reminding me that since I was sent to the other side of the world while everything was being built here, I don’t actually have a place to stay, Senku-chan.”
Senku rolls his eyes at the dramatic accusation.
“François-chan told me Ryusui-chan had something to spare for me when they came to pick me up with Suika-chan. Apparently, Ryusui-chan himself told them to mention it.”
“Well, there you go, your problems are solved. So what are you complaining about?”
“Just because,” Gen pouts.
Another silence settles between them, and this time Gen isn’t sure whether to call it comfortable or not. Maybe he really is overthinking it, letting his mind stray to everything except what really matters.
Months—years, even!—spent waiting to be reunited with Senku, and now the moment feels almost too normal.
Further off, Yuzuriha and Nikki are trying to teach a few dance moves to Taiju and Kohaku, both far too heavy-handed for anyone to spot even a trace of grace in their movements, while Suika simply lets herself sway to the music. Every now and then, Gen spots Luna casting a few glances their way, not paying much mind to it.
Now that he takes a moment to scan the area, he can't find any sign of Xeno and Stanley, who were supposed to have returned here with everyone else.
He doesn't get a chance to ponder it any further, however, as Senku speaks up again. "If you need a place, there’s room at my house.”
Gen curses the heat he feels pulsing in his cheeks as he freezes, his eyes still pinned on their friends a short distance away. His hands, clasped and hidden inside his sleeves, clench against one another. He has to suppress a sigh of relief when, out of the corner of his eye, he realizes Senku isn't looking at him. The facade of indifference is put back in place with the ease of a sleight-of-hand trick.
“Oh? Because you have a house of your own, Senku-chan? I was under the impression you spent far too much time right here in the lab.”
Even if nobody brought it up out loud, Senku's motives behind his time machine project were obvious. Gen almost feels guilty for using them to build his armor.
“I see it didn't take you long to get your bearings back and pick up info left and right,” Senku answers with a smirk.
“Of course. I see you know me well.”
Senku hadn't grown. Gen still stood a few centimeters taller than him, setting aside his gravity-defying hair. Nothing out of the ordinary; after all, at their age, growing was ancient history. His face wasn't lined with any wrinkles, nor any unfamiliar features, save for the absence of his petrification scars that had long sliced across his forehead. Yet, despite the grounding presence and familiarity he represented, something feels off.
“You know, Senku-chan, if you want to get married someday, you’re gonna have to think about making time for a girlfriend, you know? Spending all day and night in your lab isn't gonna cut it.”
Gen has no idea what he's saying. The words slip away from him, driven by an urgent need to build something, anything, to protect his own emotions, his own feelings. It's not like he actually wants to see Senku find someone.
Then, he thinks about Luna, and how she seems to still be pining for him even after all these years. He knows that Senku had agreed to be her boyfriend so that she would save his life after he’d been shot, but had he ever broken up with her?
Gen’s not sure.
Maybe he has. Maybe he hasn’t. In both cases, he realizes Senku has no reason to tell him about it anyway. This has nothing to do with Gen, and he can’t know everything about Senku’s life. At least not anymore, not now that they’re all apart all over the world.
The knot forming in his stomach rises like a wave of nausea, and suddenly he can't bring himself to look at him anymore. When Senku's head turns in his direction, his brows arched in obvious perplexity, Gen chooses instead to shift his attention back to the wedding guests.
“Ha? Where's this coming from?”
“Just friendly advice from a mentalist. Do whatever you want with it, of course.”
Senku doesn't answer, and maybe that's for the best. Gen isn't sure he could handle whatever he might have to say on the subject, even if the fact that he doesn't refute the idea of getting married or finding a girlfriend feels like having his heart trampled on.
A wedding was supposed to be a happy event. One only had to look at Taiju and Yuzuriha's beaming faces, their shared laughter rising between two clumsy dance steps, to understand the depth of their happiness.
Deep down, to say he didn't wish for Senku's happiness would be a lie. But the feelings he had been suppressing for so long weren't as selfless as he might pretend.
“Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan... Soon enough, it'll be Chrome-chan and Ruri-chan, too,” he notes dreamily. “I wonder who'll be next.”
It could be anyone. If he set his bitterness aside and thought pragmatically, Senku actually had a high chance of being the very last on the list. Plenty of their friends had time to find happiness before that ever happened. And yet, he'd rather not think about it.
“How should I know?”
“Aw, Senku-chan, as if you could make me, the mentalist, believe you don't care about your friends.”
Senku says nothing back, not even attempting to defend himself or offer an excuse. Maybe he knows there's no point in front of Gen, so Gen doesn't push it further. As his gaze continues to sweep over the crowd while night gradually falls, he feels the outline of a tender smile touch his lips, seeing Suika's happy face, her laughter reaching all the way over to them. For a brief second, in her awkward yet confident dance steps, he sees the little girl they used to know again.
“Someday, maybe the next one will be Suika-chan,” he murmurs softly.
“Ha?”
“Well, it’s true! Look at how much she’s grown. She was so young when we first met her. Even if I feel guilty for not being there for her during those years she spent all alone, you have to admit she’s an adult now. Someday, she’ll be the next one getting married.”
Seven years spent alone, growing up without a soul around and working tirelessly with the sole objective of depetrifying everyone. Gen couldn’t imagine himself in her shoes, and for the sake of his sanity, he preferred not to even try. But that didn't smother the melancholy and the guilt.
“Are you playing the nostalgia card? The guilty mentalist?”
“You’re just heartless, Senku-chan.”
Senku sighs, but there's a pause before he answers. “I hope so for her, I guess,” he merely says, without any hidden meaning. Without beating around the bush. Without trying to hide his emotions.
Turning his head toward him, Gen sees that he’s smiling, his gaze lost on their friends just as his own had been moments ago. Because despite everything he tries to project, Senku has always put them ahead of himself.
“Then again, it depends,” Gen resumes, adopting his light tone once more. “Unless she follows in your footsteps and ends up in a lab all alone near thirty and still single, right?”
Senku’s eyes, in all their incandescent glow, meet his with a spark of amusement. Gen realizes he misses the petrification scars that had long crested above his eyes.
“I'm not near thirty, Mentalist." Senku muses. “And who knows? Maybe she’ll follow in Chrome’s footsteps instead.”
“Ah, Chrome-chan... Honestly, I wouldn’t have put my money on him for the next wedding, to be fair. I was starting to wonder if he was even aware that his feelings were mutual,” Gen confesses.
The light tone in his voice draws a snort from Senku.
“Beats me. It’s not like I care.”
"Yeah, of course you don't."
From the edge of his vision, Gen realizes their friends are starting to notice their absence and are watching them from a distance. Where Ryusui points at them without an ounce of embarrassment, Luna offers a timid wave, which Taiju joins in on far more eagerly. With her hands on her hips, Kohaku looks ready to come haul them back herself, even if it means throwing one of them over each shoulder.
“Peace and quiet’s over,” Senku sighs, pushing off from the tree he had been leaning against throughout their conversation. “You coming? I don’t have one millimeter of intention to dance, but I’m not giving them the satisfaction of coming to get us.”
Everything about his presence remains painfully familiar to Gen. Almost as if he’d never left, as if their paths hadn’t diverged for two whole years. Yet, in his smile, he can tell this is no longer the Senku he used to know by heart. The one whose every answer, every expression he could anticipate.
Unable to tell whether he'll accept it or not, whether he should try to uncover and learn every reaction of this new Senku or leave it be, Gen falls into step behind him.
“And besides, you know...” Senku continues, his back now turned to him. “To go back to what you were saying, just because I spend a lot of time in a lab doesn’t mean I’ll never want to get married.”
About to take a step, Gen freezes mid-motion.
“I’m pretty busy, it’s true. But I could consider it, I guess.”
Gen doesn’t know what to do with his heart as he feels it fracture and shatter into pieces at his feet. He stands motionless, the sentence repeating on a loop in his mind, then swallows, relieved that Senku can’t see him. Taking a deep, silent breath, he steps past him, pulling ahead by two good meters before turning around to throw him a wink.
“If you want my blessing, I’m afraid that’s gonna cost you a few extra weeks of vacation, you know!”
Senku arches an eyebrow before a smirk curls his lips. “As if I needed something so futile,” he smiles, something like a challenging spark glinting in his red eyes.
Gen chooses to push to the back of his mind the suffocating feeling in his chest—that sensation of choking for a few brief seconds—knowing he’ll have to prepare himself to face it the day it actually happens. Instead, he waits for Senku to catch up to him, and they set off toward their friends, who are motioning for them to join.
Gen had never known whether Senku’s offer for a place to stay had been serious or not. Not sure he wanted to know the answer, he had preferred to stick to his initial plan: Ryusui, his greed, and his numerous spare rooms in the excessively large house that now served as his home near the Ryusui Conglomerate headquarters.
He remained pragmatic. Being housed and pampered like a guest, or ending up in a place that was constantly empty because the owner was busy elsewhere? The choice was simple. And it was thanks to that very choice that François was currently driving him along the long, now-paved road leading to what had once been a simple primitive village. With a unique emotion swelling in his chest, he watched the scenery roll past, both familiar and yet filled with so much unknown. Where the forest had long stretched as far as the eye could see—that same forest he had once run through to lie to Tsukasa in order to save Senku—buildings now stood tall. Some were still under construction, others finished though still simplistic; but the result was the same.
“We are arriving,” François announced in their usual calm voice.
The sea stretched endlessly, enveloping the untouched Ishigami Village in its sole embrace. Today, nobody lived there anymore; all the residents had preferred to seek the comfort of real houses among those being built in New Tokyo, and nature was already beginning to reclaim its rights.
A little further down, a vast expanse of asphalt emerged into their field of view, where a small crowd was gathering around an airplane. It wasn't a real airport, situated a bit far from New Tokyo, but for now, they made do with it.
“I see we’re not the only ones who wanted to come for these goodbyes!” Ryusui says enthusiastically, snapping his fingers from the passenger seat.
“Of course,” Gen singsongs. “Our American friends are heading back home after these few days spent here, so it’s only normal to want to see them off. I hope you’ll all be out in equal numbers when it'll be my turn!”
“Naturally, Gen-sama. You can count on us.”
“How long are you staying here, Gen?”
Gen shrugs nonchalantly as François parks near the runway. “That’ll depend on Senku-chan’s moods and when he decides he needs me on the other side of the world, I suppose? For now, as you can imagine, I’m enjoying my well-deserved vacation!”
It had been nearly a week since Taiju and Yuzuriha's wedding, and so far, Gen hadn't heard any news regarding a potential new departure. Even though he expected to be called anywhere at any moment, he was using these days to secretly make up for lost time. When he wasn't hanging around near the lab to lend an unofficial hand to the science team, he was at Yuzuriha and Taiju’s clothing shop, at the training dojo with Kohaku and the others, or simply out in town. In other words, these days of rest were only half-vacation, but he was spending them in good company.
“We were wondering if you were ever gonna show up,” Ukyo teases them as the three of them step out of the car.
“One must know how to make himself desired, my dear Ukyo!” Ryusui responds with gusto. “Did it work?”
Ukyo rolls his eyes, unable to hold back a faint smile, but chooses to avoid giving an answer.
A little further down, in front of the plane that would soon take off, Senku is talking with Xeno, a silent but visibly attentive Stanley at their side. Luna is crying hot tears, alternating her hugs between Kohaku, Suika, and Chelsea, while Max and Carlos struggle to hold back theirs at the top of the airstairs. The rest of their friends, gathered for this final occasion, watch the scenes with amusement and emotion.
At the exact moment Gen joins them, he is pulled back a few years into the past. He sees them all again, building that rocket; that era when their daily lives were just one and the same. For a split second, it feels as though nothing has changed.
“It’s not that discussing the Alcubierre metric and its effect on the negative mass field with you bothers me, Senku, but it would be inelegant of us to leave late,” Xeno declares after scanning the crowd.
“Wait, that's it already?!” Gen gasps.
Not that he expected anything else. Neither Xeno nor Stanley were the type to lose themselves in sentimentality. Yet something in the gaze the scientist shoots him, drawn by his voice, catches the breath in his chest. Not especially harsh nor affectionate, but it gives him the impression of probing into the absolute depths of his thoughts.
Senku takes a few steps back to join the line they had begun forming in front of the plane, while the Americans move closer to the stairs leading up to the vehicle.
“Thanks for coming all this way for our wedding!” Taiju suddenly shouts, and Yuzuriha joins in his gratitude with a bow before repeating his words. “We should do this more often!”
“Um... Taiju-chan, I’m not so sure that’s the kind of event you do multiple times. You’re married now, that’s it.”
“Then we can celebrate our one-year anniversary with the exact same ceremony! What do you think, Yuzuriha?”
She smiles, genuinely touched. “Yes, why not?”
“It’s settled, then! You’ll come back in a year!”
Senku’s scoffing laugh echoes his enthusiasm in a way that betrays a certain tenderness.
“Maybe even sooner, who knows?” Kohaku pipes up. “We still don’t know when Ruri and Chrome will get married!”
“Maybe we’ll even be surprised by another wedding in the meantime, who knows?” Chelsea adds. “We’ve got some popular guys around here, after all!”
Gen isn’t sure who she’s referring to, but having phrased it that way, Chelsea leaves nothing to chance. She’s one of those people who don't beat around the bush with innuendos, so much so that he’s almost certain that if Luna hadn't interrupted her by bursting into tears again, she would have continued with actual names.
“Senku!” Luna sobs, her cheeks flushed red with tears.
Everything in her body language indicates she’s holding herself back from throwing her arms around his neck, likely due to their audience.
“You know, I’m a cool and capable gal, and I fully intend to finish my medical studies and succeed, okay? But if you really asked me to, I could also consider staying here for a while. Not that I’m desperate, of course not, but just so you know!”
As it turns out, Gen doesn't need Chelsea to finish her sentence after all. Just like everyone, he remains silent, aware that Luna doesn't need her improvised audience to chime in on a sadness that’s so obviously sincere. Senku, behind his pragmatic surface and guarded emotions, is likely realizing it as well.
A smirk playing on the corner of his lips, the scientist places both hands on his hips. The gaze he locks onto her is direct, proof that he’s giving her his undivided attention, clearly aware of the feelings she harbors. For a moment, this isn't the manipulative Senku who relies on others to achieve his goals, but simply a human being walking on eggshells so as not to hurt someone in their affection.
“You won’t be of any use to us here as a half-baked doctor, you know,” he sighs. “Like we were saying just two minutes ago, you’ll all be coming back. At the very least next year, just as the big oaf decided.”
Despite his words, which could have sounded harsh coming from anyone else, he keeps smiling. This idea seems to satisfy Luna, who wipes her eyes with the back of her hand before nodding in agreement. Gen hates the knot forming in his stomach at the sight of them in a bubble where he has no place, and the guilt that gnaws at his conscience at the thought is even worse.
He ignores the tactless comment from Chelsea, who bounces back on her words and starts talking about marriage again.
“I’m pretty busy, it’s true. But I could consider it, I guess.”
Gen looks away, then takes a step back. He has no memory of the moment the plane took off.
When his thoughts finally anchor back to the reality around him, part of their small group has already scattered. Only the science team remains, along with the newlyweds, Ukyo, and the kind souls hosting him and playing driver. Before he even realizes it, Senku is standing right in front of him, arms crossed with his perpetual smirk on his lips.
“Hey, Mentalist. You coming to the lab with us today? We’re gonna need y—”
“Sorry, Senku-chan, but today I promised Yuzuriha-chan I’d help them at the shop. And a man never goes back on his word, right?”
Senku raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second, but doesn't make a single comment. From the corner of his eye, Gen catches the unspoken questions in Yuzuriha’s gaze—he thanks her mentally with everything he’s got for not contradicting him.
“Fine, just don't slack off then,” Senku replies with a casual shrug before turning around. “Chrome, Suika, let's go.”
Deep in conversation with Ryusui a bit further away, Ukyo sighs, aware that as their driver, “let's go” includes him as well.
“Gen, need a ride back?” Ryusui calls out to him from a distance.
Now that he has lied, he can't really back out of his commitments anymore. From the corner of his eye, he sees Taiju waiting patiently for his answer. Behind him, a little further off, Ishigami Village takes shape on a familiar horizon.
“If Taiju-chan wouldn't mind driving me, it’d be easier if I went back with them so I can help out with the shop,” he singsongs, hands tucked into his wide sleeves.
“Of course! No problem, Gen!” Taiju beams beside him.
Ryusui and François disappear a few minutes later, the distant shadow of their car joining Ukyo’s. The three of them stay like that for a few seconds in silence, on the concrete ground of a runway that had once been a forest whose dirt he had walked barefoot. Yuzuriha’s voice weighs heavily behind his back:
“We’d love to have you, Gen, but are you sure you’re okay? Why lie to Senku?”
“Eh? It wasn’t today that I promised I’d drop by?” he muses dramatically, spinning around before letting a broad smile stretch across his lips. “Did I mix up the dates?”
Yuzuriha's gaze softens, yet she says nothing. Not only is she not fooled, but Gen has to admit he has put on better mentalist acts before. He finds himself elaborating, before she can even ask more, “It’s a bit complicated,” he admits. “And besides, I wanted to stay here just a little longer... Would it bother you if I took a small detour? I’d like to go see what’s left of the village.”
They both approve as if it goes without saying— they are, after all, deeply kind people. He isn't surprised not to hear them follow in his footsteps right away as he starts walking toward the village, cursing under his breath the physical effort needed to trek back up there and the distance he had underestimated.
Gen feels emotion overwhelm him the instant he arrives before the rope bridge he had crossed so many times. Moss is beginning to spread over it, and despite a few worn-out planks that inspire little confidence, he crosses it as though placing blind trust in it, as if this bridge carrying all these memories could never betray him. The village looks exactly like what one would expect of a primitive village left abandoned. Vegetation is starting to reclaim its rights over this massive rock surrounded by the sea, and the few thatched roofs still intact can be counted on one hand. With a single glance, he sweeps over the landscape, and suddenly he’s nineteen again.
He can hear Magma and Mantle groaning; the high-pitched voices of the Sparkly sisters gossiping about the villagers. He can see Suika and the other children running past him, Kokuyo telling them to be careful and not to fall. He catches sight of Ruri from the top of her hut on the other side of the second bridge, a gentle look in her eyes as she watches over them, ready to step in at a moment’s notice.
Gen turns on his heel.
Behind him, on the other side of the bridge he had just crossed, Chrome’s hut stands out against a now-unobstructed horizon, stripped of its thick forest. On its roof, the observatory they built. Gen isn’t sure he fully understands all the emotions washing over him seeing it, but the village suddenly no longer holds his interest. His shoes tread on the planks of the bridge once more, and it feels like betraying his memories not to do so barefoot in this mild spring air. He moves forward, striding with a sure step across the few hundred meters until he stands right in front of the observatory. Head tilted up so that nothing else is in his sightline, he forgets the lab even exists to his left. He remains frozen there, mouth agape, for long seconds. A distant sound indicates approaching footsteps.
Without really thinking, he steps inside and climbs up to the observatory, guided by habit, a muscle memory he didn't think he had retained for so long. The scent of dust lingers, proof of the abandonment to which the place has been left, yet that isn't all. It's subtle, but there's something else. A faint warmth that contrasts with the dust, and Gen notices that the door handle to the observatory is indeed completely free of it. He freezes as he steps through the doorway.
Where he expected to find the tattered remains of a primitive telescope in an empty room, there is none of that. The wood is intact, as though polished and carefully reworked. On the floor, brand-new books, yet worn down from being read over and over, are laid out. Loose sheets of paper, scribbled on and annotated in every direction to the point of becoming illegible. And in the middle of the room, a futon sits. Unmade, or rather, poorly made.
“I had a feeling you’d want to come here,” Yuzuriha’s soft voice rises behind him.
“Why is there a futon?”
He turns toward her, unbothered by Taiju’s absence. The smile she offers him matches the softness of her voice.
“Senku comes here fairly often,” she explains calmly. “Taiju drops him off every time, and he usually spends the night.”
Gen can’t control the shock that appears on his face at the news. His heart suddenly beats so hard he wonders if, in the small space of this quiet room, Yuzuriha can hear it.
“Here? But... what for?”
“You know the answer to that question, don’t you? Senku will never admit to being nostalgic, but he’s sentimental all the same. Taiju-kun and I, we never really lived here with you guys. But even I can understand how this place is dear to Senku. You guys built it for him, at a time when it was still difficult to do so." She pauses to let him process the information, before continuing. "He says he comes to watch the stars and have some peace and quiet, though. To quote him: ‘at least here, people leave me the hell alone.’”
She accompanies her words with a soft chuckle, but Gen is already only half-listening. In the narrow space of this special place, he envisions Senku, sitting on the floor scribbling away in his books, over his loose sheets of paper. Eating a cold ready-made meal between glances through the telescope. Then slipping under the covers at an hour so late into the night that the first rays of the sun would have almost already peeked out.
Today’s resources, far more advanced than back when they built this telescope, should allow Senku to observe space much better. He could have done it from home without needing to call on Taiju and his freshly acquired driver's license to come all this way from New Tokyo. And yet, he comes here.
If Senku ever dares claim he isn’t sentimental, Gen will never believe him again— not that he ever really did.
Does he think of him, sometimes, within the four walls of this observatory?
As for Gen, he traveled the world in his name, without a single day passing where Senku wasn't playing on a loop in his mind.
“Gen... You’ve looked a bit sad ever since you got back.”
Gen stifles a wince before dramatically clapping his hands over his chest. “Yuzuriha-chan? How can you say that when you and Taiju-chan just got married? Are you doubting my affection for you two?”
She smiles again. Gen hates how impossible it is to lie to her when she looks at him like that.
“No, not at all. Thank you for coming back all this way for us, Gen. But if you want to travel less and be here more, you should talk to Senku, you know. He’ll understand.”
A quiet, nervous chuckle escapes him. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, Yuzuriha-chan, but I’m not so sure Senku-chan would accept that. Quite the opposite, actually. You know how he is, don’t you? Always pragmatic. All that matters is getting the job done.”
“Maybe, but he—”
“And besides...” he cuts her off, unsure he’ll have the courage to pour his heart out if he waits too long. His hands, clasped inside his sleeves, clench against each other. “It might be hard to understand, but I like being useful to him. I’ve traveled to so many countries to make his voice heard, to open doors he needed opened. Even back when it was just the Kingdom of Science, that was what I was good for, right? That’s what Senku-chan expects from me. So for that, for him, I’m willing to keep going, even if it’s true that it gets a bit lonely and makes me kinda sad sometimes.”
Yuzuriha doesn't answer, and somehow Gen is grateful for her silence. Her eyes speak for themselves anyway, and he's suddenly afraid she can see right through his suffering, see even deeper than the words he allowed himself to voice.
“I respect your choice, then,” she says simply, her face wearing her signature gentleness.
Before he can answer, she gives a slight bow and excuses herself, leaving the room. Gen remains alone in the middle of the space, aware that his two friends are waiting for him to leave, yet unable to bring himself to do so.
In a final burst of clarity, he realizes that what blends with the scent of dust, far too subtle to be truly distinct, is the familiar scent of the Senku that has shared several years of his life. The sole witness to his regular presence, in this place that means so much.
“You’re not fair, Senku-chan,” he whispers.
Days slip by in a monotony Gen could easily get used to. Before he realizes it, several weeks have already passed, and Senku still hasn't brought up the idea of a departure. Too busy or uninterested in the subject, no doubt, but Gen won't complain. He settles for a few videoconferences, mostly with the United States and different countries in Europe to maintain the ties they've established, then returns freely to more interesting pursuits.
He keeps up his rotating schedule: the lab, the clothing shop, the training dojo, and generally anywhere his friends happen to be—with the exception of Tsukasa, who set off again on his long journey a few days earlier.
At this pace, Gen is starting to wonder if it might be better for him to find a place of his own. Not that staying at Ryusui Conglomerate displeases him— far from it. After all, he even gets to kick back regularly and enjoys plenty of perks, starting with the car Ryusui lends him. But it’s a bit strange not really having his own place, and if Senku remains in the mood to keep him here, maybe he should think about having something called a 'home' to come back to every day.
He’s arriving in town when his phone starts ringing, displaying Senku’s name on the screen. It isn't quite a smartphone like the ones he used to know yet, but technological advances are moving forward at a dizzying pace all across the world.
“Senku-chan?” Gen asks, surprised as he picks up.
“Yo, Mentalist. Where are you right now?”
“I was just about to go see Kohaku-chan and the others,” he explains, stopping in front of the building’s entrance. “Why?”
“Did you drive there?”
“Of course. How else do you think I'd get here?”
“Perfect, then. Swing by the lab, I’m waiting for you. Hurry up.”
He hangs up without even giving him time to respond, and doesn't bother answering when Gen tries to call him back. Letting out a quiet sigh, he gives in, casting one last glance at the doors of the training dojo before turning away. It’s with a chest tight with apprehension, afraid of hearing Senku tell him he needs to leave for the other side of the world tomorrow, that he gets into Ryusui’s car and heads toward the lab.
Massive compared to what had once been Tsukasa’s lair and the rest of the town below, the building carves into the landscape with its surprisingly rounded shape. Gen realizes he now knows the way by heart.
For someone who had sounded so impatient on the phone, Senku doesn't seem in much of a hurry after all, as no one is waiting for him at the entrance. He has to state his identity, as he does every time, before being guided to the most secure room at the end of a long maze of hallways, where the science team is working relentlessly on their time machine.
“Gen!” Suika greets him enthusiastically.
“Took you long enough,” Senku mutters in a flat voice.
“Are you kidding?! I came as soon as you asked me to!”
Senku’s smirk shows he was just winding him up, and Gen lets out a sigh.
“So? Why am I here?” He tries to ignore the apprehension still pulsing inside him.
“I need you.”
“What for?” Gen asks.
“To drive me.”
Gen blinks. Once, twice, maybe more; he has no idea how long he freezes. But in front of him, Senku remains impassive, a pinky dug into his ear.
“You're twenty-six, Senku-chan. Don’t you think it’s about time you got your driver’s license?”
Those words weigh even more now that he knows Senku often asks Taiju to drive him to the observatory.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, let’s go.”
He barely has time to properly greet Chrome, Kaseki, and Joel before Senku starts dragging him out of the lab, without even giving him a chance to see their progress with his own eyes. Senku sets the Why-Man box down on the table, entrusting it to them while he’s gone, before they leave the room. Senku’s grip on the back of his haori, at the nape of his neck, loosens once they’re in the hallway before releasing him completely.
“Senku-chan... Are you going to explain what's the plan?”
“Xeno had an express delivery sent to me.”
Gen raises an eyebrow, not quite sure what conclusion he’s supposed to draw from that statement. “Congrats, I guess?”
He senses more than sees the scientist’s exaggerated eye roll.
“I don’t want to waste time waiting for it to get here. The mail service is improving, but it’s still not efficient enough, and I’d have to wait days for sorting and distribution to be done. So we’re going to pick it up directly when the plane lands.”
Unable to tell whether he’s admiring such dedication or dumbfounded by the sheer absurdity of the request, Gen remains speechless for a few seconds. He searches Senku’s eyes for any sign of a joke, but naturally finds none.
“But... that’s right next to Ishigami Village,” he states matter-of-factly. “That’s pretty far from here. Are you sure about this?”
“Far? It’s an hour’s drive at most, Mentalist. Don’t exaggerate. Is it your car?”
“No, but—”
“Great, so we’re taking advantage of the fact that Ryusui is bankrolling you, then.”
Despite the satisfied smirk stretching Senku’s lips, Gen catches something in those crimson eyes. Like a light shining without spark. He recalls Senku's offer to stay at his place, then quickly sweeps the thought from his mind.
“Aw, Senku-chan, I could almost believe you’re jealous when you put it like that," he teases.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Mentalist. Come on, hurry up. I’ve got work waiting for me back here afterward.”
Gen refrains from pointing out that if he was so swamped, he could have sent someone else to run this errand for him. Gen himself would have willingly gone alone had he asked. He would have complained, of course, just for show. But he would have gone gladly, with the satisfaction of being useful.
They get into the car Gen had parked in the lab’s lot, its engine purring with an old familiarity that never truly faded. Ishigami Village isn't exactly next door, but being somewhat removed from the old Tokyo as they are, they’ll reach it in a single hour.
When Mount Fuji reveals itself to accompany them through the landscape, Gen finds himself back a few years in the past.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve driven me around like this,” Senku drops with something resembling amusement.
“Right? You made me drive that horrible tank years ago! I remember it like it was yesterday, you know.”
Senku snickers, clearly far from remorseful.
“We covered this route more than once back when it was just Ishigami Village and Tsukasa’s Empire, didn’t we?”
“Yeah,” Senku agrees, perhaps more nostalgic than he’d ever admit.
“There was the motorcycle in South America, too. I was the one driving you then. You’re almost making a habit out of this, aren’t you?”
“You sure complain a lot,” Senku chuckles.
Gen doesn't take offense at these reproaches that aren't really reproaches. He continues, thoughtful, “We built those things so fast back then... it’s a miracle we’re still alive, honestly.”
“At least this time it’s a real car on a real road, so stop whining.”
A real road where uneven spots can barely be felt; one that would have looked primitive three thousand seven hundred years earlier, but now feels to them like one of the new wonders of the world. Focused on his driving, Gen doesn't answer, letting a soothing silence settle between them, during which Senku takes in the scenery lining the drive.
The last time Gen took this road, it was with François and Ryusui to say goodbye to the Americans. It was only a few short weeks ago, a recent memory he remembers very well. And yet, his thoughts drift much further back; millennia ago. To a time when he came alone, without warning a family who wouldn't have noticed his absence anyway, to gaze at the torii gate along Lake Ashi and the view it offered of Mount Fuji.
“I used to like Hakone,” Gen offers nostalgically.
Senku turns his head toward him without answering, aware that there is more to come.
“I came here as a teenager when I needed some room to breathe. I miss it a little, and it’s sad to think that the temples and torii are gone now. But in the end, I prefer Ishigami Village. I hope it’ll be preserved, even long after we’re gone.”
Senku’s reply takes so long to come that Gen eventually tears his eyes from the road for a few seconds to glance fleetingly in his direction. Frozen, his eyebrows half-arched in obvious confusion, the scientist is staring at him. Where Gen expects him to reply that he’s getting lost in useless sentimentality, that he couldn't care less what is preserved or not after his death, especially when it comes to that kind of futility, he doesn't. If anything, something in the way he stares indicates he’s genuinely trying to understand something. Something that is clearly beyond Gen.
“What’s with you today?”
“How ean-may, Senku-chan. I’m trying to open my heart, you know?”
“That’s precisely my point.”
It isn't as if he can talk to him about this suffocating nostalgia and sadness that have seized him ever since returning to Japan, after all.
“Forget I said anything, then,” he sighs.
Though Senku doesn't retort, Gen feels his lingering gaze on him for much of the drive.
The plane is already there by the time they reach the outskirts of the village. Gen follows the now-paved road winding down toward the runway, parking as close as he can. They don't even need to give their identity to enter, Senku’s presence alone, his face known by everyone by now, is enough to grant them access pretty much anywhere they go.
Gen follows as Senku strides with determination toward the entrance booth, where he’s recognized and greeted enthusiastically.
“Doctor Senku! Are you here to pick up the package held for you?”
“Ten billion percent, yeah.” Senku smirks.
The man sets aside the report he was writing and turns to grab a tape-sealed box resting behind him. He hands it over to Senku, who takes hold of it as if it’s the most precious thing he’s laid eyes on in years, and they head back to the car.
“That was fast,” Gen comments. “How did they know?”
“Oh, I called ahead to tell them to hang onto it because I was coming to get it myself. And Xeno had specifically set the package apart so they could spot it easily.”
“So your whole story about the sorting process not being efficient yet was a lie?!” Gen protests, more surprised than genuinely annoyed.
“Huh? Of course not. They would've mixed it all back together if I hadn't come pick it up.”
Gen settles for a sigh, far too used to Senku’s antics to take offense. Instead, he shifts his attention to the package, recognizing Xeno’s cursive handwriting on it. He realizes he doesn't even have the faintest idea what they actually came all this way to retrieve.
“What is it?” Gen asks, leaning toward the box.
“An ytterbium optical lattice clock module.”
“A... what?”
“It’s an atomic clock, Mentalist.”
Right. An atomic clock. Of course.
“With a drift of one second every three hundred billion years, that should be enough to keep us from sending petrification beams straight back to the Mesozoic.”
“Right... obviously...” Gen sometimes wonders why he even bothers seeking an explanation, if he’s being honest.
Maybe he just likes the passionate look on Senku's face whenever he’s asked about anything science-related.
When they reach the car, Senku places the package on the back seat, but doesn't get into the front right away. He stands there for a few seconds, with his back to him, his gaze lost toward Ishigami Village in the distance. Lost toward the observatory, even though they can't see it from this far.
“Feeling nostalgic, Senku-chan?”
“Nostalgia doesn't achieve anything efficient, Mentalist,” Senku says flatly, without denying it.
“Oh, really? And yet, I would have thought it was precisely what left a futon up in Chrome-chan’s hut. You know, the observatory?”
Senku turns his head toward him so fast Gen wonders if he hasn't strained his neck. Raw incomprehension veils his gaze, and for a split second, Gen sees the surprise of a teenager learning that someone has counted the days to figure out his birthday just to give him a priceless gift.
“I saw it when I went up there last time,” Gen explains, leaving Yuzuriha unmentioned. “When we said goodbye to our American friends. Amidst books scribbled with familiar handwriting.”
He feels a soft smile reaching his lips, perhaps one of the most sincere he has worn in days. Senku’s expression would have been worth any kind of teasing, had it not deeply touched him the way it does.
“Do you want to swing by?” Gen offers in a gentle voice. Too gentle to have been fully controlled.
Senku has work waiting for him, he said so himself. Just as Gen readies himself mentally to brush off a refusal, already prepared to counter by saying that he could have come here alone if Senku was really that busy, he’s surprised to see the scientist crack a smirk.
“And you are the one trying to lecture me about nostalgia, Mentalist?”
“But I never claimed otherwise. You know me, Senku-chan. I’m a sentimentalist. A romantic, even.”
“Bullshit,” Senku smirks, but there’s fondness in it.
And Gen knows that’s his way of accepting the offer. They naturally take their seats in the car, bound by a silent agreement and a mutual understanding to spare themselves the walk up to the village. Gen parks just a few meters from the observatory, and they stand outside for a few moments, taking in the place as if they haven’t seen it in years.
“I come here from time to time,” Senku declares, his voice surprisingly soft.
Seeing him suddenly willing to make this kind of confession, Gen chooses to feign ignorance. He doesn't bring up the fact that he already knows, even though he mentioned the futon just a few minutes earlier.
“By yourself?”
“Taiju drives me.”
“And you dare tell me getting your driver’s license isn't a priority?”
“I feel a bit guilty for taking advantage of him for that,” Senku admits with a quiet laugh. “I like this place. I come here when I need to focus.”
Realizing that Senku could have asked him to drive him here every single day if he wanted to and he would have complied, Gen is suddenly struck by how limitless his own devotion truly is. A prickling heat flushes his cheekbones at the thought, taking him off guard, but he quickly composes himself to slip back into his usual mentalist mask.
“You really are more of a sentimentalist than you claim to be, Senku-chan.”
“Shut up,” Senku sighs, and Gen approaches the ladder of Chrome’s old hut with a smile on his lips, leaving it at that.
He climbs up ahead, Senku behind him, and paused at the first level, before continuing to the second floor. “After you, Senku-chan,” he says, bowing dramatically to let him enter first.
“Drop the unnecessary formalities with me, Mentalist,” Senku replies, but there's no reproach, as he's going ahead anyway.
Gen would drop every pretense, every wall, for him, if Senku asked him to. But he doesn’t, so instead, Gen simply follows him.
Returning to the observatory for the second time in just a few weeks stirs up another wave of emotions in Gen. But stepping through its doorway with Senku by his side calms him in a way he could never put into words.
The cityscape now stretching beyond the entrance fades from existence. Instead, Gen sees nights scattered with stars, each brighter than the last; evenings spent scheming over countless roadmaps; a promise to go happily into Hell together. He sees a frail sixteen year old boy, yet ready to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then he sees him at seventeen, leading a war he never wanted.
And then, all at once, too many years and too many petrifications have passed for either of them to truly know how old they are anymore. Yet they're adults now, building a rocket that will carry them to the Moon, and still, the observatory continues to witness some of their evenings; their doubts.
"The place looks brand new,” Gen comments, tucking his hands into his sleeves to help serving as a shield.
“Well, of course,” Senku states, a pinky into his ear. “Like I’d spend my evenings in a ruined observatory.”
Gen spares him from pointing out that he is clearly seeing through him. Instead, he walks into the room and sits down right in the middle. There are no stars to look at, this close to noon, yet Senku follows suit. The silence that settles between them carries more emotion than Gen wants to admit.
He wonders how many more moments like this he’ll get to share with Senku before he has to leave again. A few times, he’s wondered if Yuzuriha ever told Senku about the conversation they had, before eventually resigning himself to the fact that she isn't the type to speak for someone else without their consent. But he’s reached a point where not having an answer weighs on him just as much as the thought of leaving everything behind once again, so he decides to break the moment, even if he ends up regretting it later.
“So, Senku-chan? I’m just gonna ask you directly, since you don’t seem to be thinking about it all that much, but I need to know where I stand.” Senku turns to him, his brows furrowed. Gen continues before he has a chance to speak when he sees his lips part. “How much longer am I gonna be able to stay here? Not that the world could be falling apart without me, even though I imagine a lot of people might be missing me, especially in the States. But I know it’s only a matter of time before you need me somewhere else, so I’d rather ask.”
He's suddenly painfully aware of how cramped the room is, how low the ceiling is, and how it's only the two of them here, in Ishigami Village. Even though he can feel Senku's gaze on him, he can't bring himself to face him anymore.
"Do you want to leave again?" Senku asks, and there's a genuine confusion in his voice.
"That's not the point, is it? I'm a diplomat now. My job is to be abroad, right?”
“Is that what you want?” Senku asks again.
“You know, Xeno-chan isn’t always the most diplomatic without me around. He doesn’t exactly make my job any easier, and I’m a little worried about what might happen to him while I’m here. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust Stanley-chan to smooth things over, but... well, no, actually I don’t trust him to do that either. And don’t even get me started on the situation in Europe. The last time I went to France…”
He has no idea why he’s saying any of this. He doesn’t even know if he’ll ever want to leave again. But if it's not for that, he's of no use to Senku. He hopes he could simply stay here forever, within the few square feet of this observatory, with Senku by his side. There’s already a futon, after all— and he wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor next to it.
"I see," Senku interrupts him. "I can’t help it if that’s how you truly feel, I guess."
“Yeah.” Gen doesn’t know what else to add. Senku has already done a better job of seeing through him, if he’s being honest. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed.
"Aren’t you scared of feeling lonely?"
"Uh?" Gen is confused for a moment but doesn’t let it last. "Who knows? Maybe I’ll find my fated person somewhere along this long ourney-jay after you send me off to the other side the world," he lies, because that’s what he does best; because he can’t tell the truth. Because it’s easier than saying I love you.
"Don’t play dumb with me, Mentalist."
Gen smiles, and he doesn’t really know the reason why. "But I’ve been gone for the past two years already, in case you forgot, Senku-chan. Why are you asking now?"
"You know that for a mentalist you’re pretty transparent, right?"
He knows that’s true, he can’t help it; and he’s tired of pretending. But he also knows how wrong Senku is, because Gen’s biggest secret is still here, only for him to know.
There’s a shift in the air. He does his best to look away, to ignore that Senku has moved and turned fully toward him, but it’s no use. Not answering him is already an admission of what he’s been keeping to himself; he isn’t ready to face Senku about the rest.
Gen has always had perfect control over his emotions. His face only shows what he wants others to see. But at this very moment, his composure fails him; and looking away is the only option he has left.
A half-stifled start escapes him when Senku’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder and hesitantly turns Gen to face him.
There’s no escaping those red eyes; Gen's already drowning the moment he meets them. His emotions are suddenly so raw that he wonders if his own body might betray him and give way to tears. Senku sighs, but doesn't let go.
"You stupid. I’m asking one more time. Gen, do you wanna leave again?"
Gen likes his job. He knows he's good at it, and there's a huge satisfaction in being helpful to others just by doing what you're good at. He wants to keep being useful for Senku. He knows he'll never have the chance to stand next to him the way he'd want to, but what's with hoping anyway?
"What do I do if I don't work for you as a diplomat?"
"If you—what? Gen, you don't work for me. We work together, we always have. That's what the Kingdom of Science was about. What it is about."
As Gen is left speechless, the grip on his shoulder tightens. That's not what he's been wanting to hear; or maybe it is. Senku’s voice suddenly feels so far away that he wonders if he only imagined hearing it.
The next second, he barely registers the pressure of the hand on his shoulder before he’s pulled against Senku. The chest his cheek ends up pressed against is bony, not really comfortable, but the warmth seeping into his skin moves him so deeply that he could lose himself there forever. For a few seconds, he’s too stunned to utter a single word, to pull away, apologize, or get back on his feet.
He could try to convince himself it hadn't been intentional, that Senku hadn't meant to draw him this close; but he's not fooling himself, not again. He knows the embrace is deliberate, and he can feel just how desperate it is.
"Senku...chan?" he tries as he feels the heat rushing to his face. His heartbeat is so loud that he's afraid Senku might hear it— or worse, feel it. But Senku doesn't answer. The hand on his shoulder slowly slides down his back, and the other soon joins it. Senku's breath against his hair is enough to shatter the last of his defenses.
He returns the embrace instinctively, his arms slipping beneath Senku's, clinging to him with something that borders on despair. He's barely aware of it himself. He straightens just enough to bury his face in the crook of Senku's neck.
For a moment, nothing else exists.
He has no idea how much this embrace truly means, or what Senku really is trying to convey through it. It would never even have crossed his mind to hug him in the first place, let alone imagine Senku hugging anyone at all. But he lets himself melt into it completely, as though nothing else matters.
They’re alone. In this place that means so much to them. Senku, who’s always too busy, has taken a step toward him, and he wants to meet him halfway.
“I love what I do as a diplomat, but I love being here, with all of you. I know my job matters, but I wish I hadn’t missed those two years,” he confesses slowly, weighing each word. Senku doesn't move, doesn't answer. He simply listens. “I love traveling, and I know I’m not the only one who has to. Tsukasa-chan takes his new role very seriously. But my memories are here... and soon, they won’t be anywhere.”
Senku still doesn't pull away. His breath is steady against Gen’s skin; he can feel it lightly brushing his ear, and fighting off a shiver becomes harder with every passing second.
"You should have said something about it sooner," Senku sighs, and Gen is almost sure he hears relief in his voice.
"Don't get me wrong Senku-chan, but I'm pretty sure you would have said something about not being lazy and going back to work." The snort that answers him almost seems kind.
"Yeah, probably, if you had just blurted it out without putting your real feelings into it."
Touché, Gen thinks. Him not answering anything is enough of a confirmation, he knows it, but can't help it. The silence that settles over the room helps him clear his head, even though he still doesn't know whether nor when he'll have to leave again or not, let alone when.
Gen wonders if Senku is aware of the patterns he's tracing with his fingertips on Gen's back, or if he's just doing it without realizing, unable to keep his hands still for too long. Despite the blush he feels rising in his cheeks, he choices not to point it out loud. It's all about pretending.
"Hey, why didn't you take my offer for a place to stay when you got back here?"
Taken aback, Gen can't help but pull away from him. He instantly misses the heat of Senku's body, the comfort of his neck, and the embrace of his arms. He doesn't stand too far, though— close enough that Senku's hands rest on both his shoulders. "It was serious?"
"Ha? Of course it was. Why else would I have said it, then?" Senku says flatly.
Gen barely notices that one of his palms is resting against Senku’s collarbone; or maybe he just chooses not to dwell on it. "You know, Senku-chan... I kind of got the impression you weren't home all that much, aren’t you? Whether it's sleeping at the lab, or coming here." He smiles, but this time, there's no sadness in it. "Weren't you just asking me if I wasn't scared of feeling lonely?"
For as long as he can remember, Gen has always been used to loneliness, to the absence of his parents. Looking back now, he doesn't really know when that changed. Somewhere along the way, in the daily life they had all forged for themselves during those years spent together, it had simply become natural.
Apparently, two years abroad away from them weren't enough to erase those habits.
There is something in Senku’s gaze, so close to him. Something unsaid, and Gen catches himself hoping, trying to read into it what he wants to see. I would have made the effort to stay with you, if you had been there. But this is Senku he's talking about, and even considering the possibility already feels surreal.
"I get that you wanted to take it easy, and you knew Ryusui's place would deliver on that. But seriously?" Senku deadpans, and as he digs a pinky into his ear, both of his hands release their grip on Gen's shoulders.
He hates the sudden cold, and he finally becomes completely aware of his own palm still resting on Senku's collarbone— and he doesn't know what to do about it. It would feel stupid to pull it back now.
"It's not like I was gonna work you to the bone," Senku continues. "I know how hard you pushed yourself for the past two years."
"So you admit working someone to the bone is some habit of yours?" Gen tries to tease, and Senku smirks. That’s the moment Gen chooses to remove his hand and stand back a little.
"Like I’m some kind of tyrant," Senku says, without really denying it.
Gen just laughs. Even if he won’t show it, he welcomes the praise. His hands shake slightly, and he can still feel the ghost of Senku’s body against his skin; his warmth, so fleeting, yet now anchored in his memory. Despite the ache of its absence, he knows how precious this moment will remain to him.
"Did you plan all this just to wring a few confessions out of me?" Gen asks, gesturing with his arm at everything around them, the teasing definitely back in his voice.
"Nah, don't get ahead of yourself. I really was waiting for Xeno's package; we need it for our research," Senku says flatly, back to his normal self. "You're the mentalist, not me. I wouldn’t even think of tricks like that."
Gen doesn’t even try to tell him that he can see he’s lying. His heart is just filled with the idea of Senku going out of his way for him. Even though he knows the part about the package is real, he now understands why Senku didn’t just send him alone.
Of course," Gen sighs, but he realizes how much of the weight he was carrying on his shoulders seems to have lifted considerably. It’s as if, now, he can finally let himself breathe again.
"And so?" Senku prompts, one eyebrow arched, his face painted with a forced nonchalance.
"What?"
"Are you planning to leave again? In the end, you didn't properly answer."
"Erisouly-say, Senku-chan? You made me confess so much more than just an answer to that. I'm already embarrassed enough."
"Quit it out, Mentalist. You’re not even a millimeter embarrassed."
Sometimes, Gen is relieved by how easily he can slip his mask back over his emotions. He has worked on his performances as a mentalist for years, after all; it’s only natural. And in situations like this, he considers himself lucky to have done so. Because even if Senku doesn’t seem to realize it, Gen is actually mortified.
"I don’t want to leave yet," he admits, glad he’s able to offer Senku a small and genuine smile. "I know at some point I will need to, but I wish it wasn’t years-long trips."
"We could work on it, adapt. The more the world goes back to what it was before the petrification, the less you'll need to leave for long. We can already do so much more remotely than we could two years ago."
The fact that Senku is putting real thought into this fills him with a joy he feels is enough to sustain him. Despite his urge to bring the conversation back to something lighter, because it’s what's easiest to deal with, he holds back.
"Alright," Senku declares, standing up abruptly. "So the problem is solved? We can go, then."
"Ah, always true to yourself, Senku-chan," Gen sighs, straightening up as well. "Emotional moments really aren't your thing, right?" There are no reproaches in his words.
"I told you, I came to pick up Xeno's package. We still have an hour's drive left, in case you forgot."
"This light in your eyes is scary, Senku-chan. Are you indeed planning to work me to the bone, once we’re back at the lab?!"
Senku’s smile is the same one he uses when he’s been caught red-handed but isn't the least bit sorry. "You better make yourself useful if you plan to stay here longer, Mentalist."
"I’ve just driven you here and you’re already thinking about what to do with me after this?! How ean-may." Maybe he just doesn’t mind as long as he’s with Senku.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go back." But the grin on his face is contagious and Gen has to stifle one of his own.
Senku is the first to walk away to leave the room, and Gen follows in his footsteps after a final glance toward the telescope. The sun is high in the sky when they reach the car, and the warmth of this day of May makes Gen want to stay here— maybe that’s not the only reason. Even if he’d like to stay here with him forever, or at least until the sun disappears past the horizon, he knows that Senku wants to keep moving forward with his project.
Because he knows that Senku likes doing science; but more than that, he knows that Senku still holds onto the hope that he’ll see his father again someday.
"Senku-chan," he starts, hesitant, as they get into the car. Senku gives him a silent look. "Want to take a detour?"
"Why?"
"I was just thinking, since we're not too far away, that maybe you would... need to go see your dad?"
Senku’s face twists, one eyebrow shooting up in an exaggerated perplexity. Gen is at a loss as to what he's supposed to read on his features. "Need? What for? You wanna go grave robbing?" Senku asks, deadpan.
"Wha—Why is that the first thing that comes to your mind?!"
The small laugh that escapes Senku is soft, proof that he enjoys either his own joke or Gen’s reaction; maybe both. Gen doesn’t mind the sound. Actually, he likes it. But he wishes Senku would open up to him the same way he just did.
"I was being serious, you know?" he tries again.
Senku is only half paying attention to him, as he’s tearing into the cardboard box to open Xeno's package. "I know," he murmurs, his hands freezing for a second. "But it's good, I don't need it."
"Are you sure? I know you seem to come here pretty often, but you—"
"Mentalist. I'm good. Really. I haven't been back there in years, and there's no point in me doing so."
Senku has never been one for sentiments, but somehow Gen knows that this is not about that. Right here, right now, he's trying to express how he truly feels; he's saying that he's grieving his own way even if he can't put it into plain terms. Because he knows Gen understands him well enough to see through it, to peel away the shell of his words and retrieve what’s left inside— so well hidden that no one else could ever reach it.
Senku is good, truly. And he's actually opening up to him the same way Gen just did.
"I see," Gen smiles, and his eyes find the infinite vastness of the sky. It's beautiful, and it's the same sky whether you are in Japan or anywhere else in the world. The sky he'd been watching for the past two years was always the same sky Senku's been obsessed with.
He likes the idea. And he likes that Senku is right beside him, following his gaze without adding anything, as they go back to New Tokyo.