Luna comes up to ask her about Senku, or rather, Kohaku’s relationship with Senku specifically. Kohaku answers the questions as honestly as she can while simultaneously dodging the crux of the questions themselves. 

That doesn’t feel odd to you? Working with your sister’s ex?

No, it could hardly be called a marriage. She really does often forget that it actually happened.

Is it true that you kissed Senku?

For a moment, she thinks Luna is talking about one of the many times she and Senku have, indeed, kissed, but quickly realizes that can’t be the case. Only one person could have told her such a thing, and Gen would only have shared something that is public knowledge. 

That kiss was nothing, Kohaku ends up saying. And it hadn’t been, at that time. It was also nothing compared to all the ones that followed.

She realizes that she isn’t used to being questioned about her involvement with him—their friends having been long accustomed to their closeness. It’s odd trying to put words to it; nothing really fits. Lovers seem too serious, friends too shallow. Perhaps just partners on a quest to save humanity. 

She also doesn’t know how to explain the restlessness she currently feels. Is it due to the time apart? Or simply that they are now on the run from Stanley? The days are exciting and the nights unbearably stressful. She isn’t used to being hunted, usually being the one to do the hunting. 

Kohaku rolls her eyes at herself. If Senku could hear her thoughts, he’s call her a—

“Lioness.”

“Not a lioness!” she hisses as Senku comes up beside her. They’re trudging through a marsh in their nearly acquired rubber boots, fatigue marring all their faces. 

“That was a nasty scare out there earlier with Suika. How are you holding up?”

“Hah. Did I make you worry?” She puts on a brave face, but then it softens immediately. “We have a good team and we’re safe.”

He doesn’t say anything for several minutes, but his shoulder brushes against hers as they walk. It’s all they’ve been able to do since meeting back up, these small comforts. She’s starting to become acutely aware that it isn’t enough. 

“We should be able to make camp tonight,” he finally says, “and take a bit more time to ourselves.”

She doubts anyone can hear them above the slushing of the water but she doesn’t blame him for being extra safe. 

A bit of relief floods her. Briefly, she tangles her fingers with his before pulling away just as quickly to sweep her hair behind her ear. 

“That will be a welcomed change.”

The sun sets and they all dine and make merry. Kohaku takes the first shift of the night watch as the fire’s embers dim to a soft glow. Most of the team goes to sleep at a decent time whereas Dr. Xeno, Ryusui, and Gen hang out by Senku’s tent near the river. The only thing she can tell is that they’re hashing out some plans, swarming around something Senku had drawn out. She’s surprised Chrome hadn’t joined in on the party.

Eventually, it’s just Senku right outside his tent adding some final touches to what looks to be a road map of his latest idea. It’s not until the moon, full and bright, reaches its peak in the sky does he glance at her and disappear into his tent.

Not long after that, Tsukasa joins her and she passes the proverbial mantle to him. He pretends to look the other way as she heads towards the river.

Or rather, to the tent by the river, where she finds Senku laying out his bedroll. Kohaku wastes no time, straddling him and sliding off his tunic in one fluid movement. The weather is warm and the night has settled and she realizes she really is just impatient after being away from him for so long.

But she stops when she sees his wound, the one he had gotten from Stanley. It makes her blood run cold despite the humidity of the Amazonian forest.

“So you’re concerned after all?” Senku smirks as he looks up at her. “I was second guessing myself when you made no mention of it.”

“Oh please. I knew you’d be fine.”

Even so, her fingers quiver as she traces the outline of the gnarled skin near his chest. Its location is just so close to his heart, she shudders just thinking about how he only narrowly avoided death. With their Medusa out of commission, they wouldn’t have been able to mend him through petrification. 

One of his hands finds her thigh, eyes soft as his thumb strokes calming circles into her skin. The tension in her shoulders deflates a level. 

“Does it still hurt?”

He shrugs. “A little sore if I move certain ways, but I’m managing just fine.”

She nods, allowing her fingers to glide up his chest and over his shoulders. “Does that mean I should be extra gentle with you tonight?”

“I think,” he starts, lips grazing her collarbone and working up her throat, “you can take me however you want.”

Another shudder runs down her spine, but for different reasons this time. He looks annoyingly pleased at himself.

He works at her dress, untying the rope beneath her bodice and slipping the blue fabric over her head. They’re skin to skin as she leans down for a kiss, purposefully slow to let him acclimate. He responds by pressing into her, hands running up her back to undo the bonds in her hair and letting her golden locks cascade past her shoulders. She melts into him and he hums appreciatively, fingers strumming across her skin as if to reacquaint him with her body.

Her hips move in small circles. She feels more than she hears the way his breath quickens with how his face is buried into her neck. This must be her favorite part of their union, the way the ever-composed Ishigami Senku unravels under her touch. In terms of affection, his actions always spoke louder than his words, and his actions during their private nights sing of devotion. 

“And to think I’d come back to you with a girlfriend,” she murmurs out loud.

He laughs quietly, holding her hips steady and craning his neck up to look at her. “What? Jealous?”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s so warm beneath her. She knows no one else ever sees him in such a state.

“Not at all.”

“Good.”

He says it so smugly that she doesn’t miss his implicit trust in her and her ability to read the situation. And she’d have to agree. Doubt is not something she has ever associated with in terms of her feelings for him.

She knows him well, and he, her. When she feels the tremors in his body from holding up their weight, she coaxes him down until his back hits the sleeping mat.

Ah, but I don’t intend to let you sleep much, she thinks. 

“I expect nothing less from a ravenous lioness.”

She makes a face but he just laughs again, pulling her down with him. 

Senku has never been one to say something as mushy as I love you, but when he kisses her behind the ear, she thinks it sounds quite similar.

They do sleep—after she tires him out. It’s been a long time since she’s been able to wake up next to him. It’s only been a few hours but the sun's rays have begun to peak over the horizon. The diffused glow splashes across his face, highlighting the slope of his nose and the angle of his jaw. He looks peaceful and serene.

He stirs when she moves, turning to bury his face into whatever part of her he can find. It’s so endearing she can’t resist planting a kiss on his forehead. 

“I’m going to go rinse off in the river,” she says quietly, feeling as if she spoke any louder, it would break the tranquility. He mumbles something into her skin, and then rolls her on top.

“You need more sleep,” she insists, though makes no effort to resist. He’s mumbling again, something along the lines of whose fault is that.

His fingers skim along the side of her body, starting at her thighs and wandering up until he’s lazily drawing figures in the space between her spine and shoulder blade. More likely than not, he’s doing some sort of calculation and using her flesh as a makeshift canvas.

Already, this early in the morning. 

She rolls her eyes, and then drags the tip of her nose along the column of his throat. Finding the spot where his pulse throbs visibly, she nips at his skin, sucking gently at the spot until it blooms into a lovely shade of red. She doesn’t miss the stutter in his fingers nor the hastening of his heart rate. 

“Sleep,” she insists again, then pushes off of him. He follows abruptly, glaring at her as he sits up, sheets pooling around his waist. 

Instead of throwing on her dress, she steals his tunic, and he almost convinces her to stay a bit longer.

Perhaps not staying was a mistake, however. She exits the tent and nearly jolts when she feels someone watching her. She turns to see Luna wide-eyed with a water flask in hand.

Ah, trust Senku to rub his bad luck on her.

“Good morning,” Kohaku says as sunnyly as possible, very much ignoring the obvious. Luna tries to smile back but it comes out more like a grimace, the question or accusation at the tip of her tongue barely contained. Kohaku has no desire to explain anything; she’s sure doing so will cause the very distractions she and Senku are trying to avoid. So she pushes on with small talk, keeping her face and tone neutral even as the conversation inevitably turns into one about the scientist behind the tent flaps.

Maybe I can double check him, Luna persists. Actual confirmation of his health, or to see if Kohaku in Senku’s clothes is truly indicative of what she suspects? They both know the answer.

But Senku is surely listening in on the whole conversation, so she trusts him to prepare accordingly and steps aside.

At least her luck is better than Senku’s, for she is saved by Ryusui intervening with a snarky remark and a rather knowing look. Though he could have been more subtle, she is ultimately grateful.

(And to be fair, wearing Senku’s tunic is not very subtle either.)

She takes her time in the river to prevent any more run-ins, and returns to Senku’s tent only after she sees Luna return to hers. 

He’s still awake, with a very annoyed look and bags under his eyes, when she walks in. 

She raises a brow. “What did Ryusui say?”

“Tch. Just called me out with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.” He then sighs, running a hand through his hair. “And offers his sympathies for Luna.”

She winces. “I guess wearing your clothes was a bad idea.”

“Ten billion percent,” he grumbles, but a sly smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “So I am going to ask Yuzuriha to make me a lab coat, and then I’m going to need you to wear that, and only that.”

“Hah, that sounds counterproductive.” 

“I’d argue that you can make me quite productive on occasion.” She rolls her eyes, sitting next to him just to shove him lightly in the shoulder. His easy smile doesn’t falter. “Let them talk. People will always say things when they don’t understand what they see. Trying to deflect will only garner more attention.”

She hums in agreement, leaning her head against him. Glancing up, she notices the mark she left behind had begun shifting from a rich red to a deep purple. 

“You’re going to need to cover that up.”

“Then I’m going to need my clothes back. Your dress doesn’t cover much.”

She laughs at him, removing his tunic and tossing it at his face. She then throws on her dress and straddles him, much like how she did just several hours prior. But instead of kissing him, she pushes him back down, pulling the sheets up to his chin. “You still need more sleep.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes but he doesn’t deny it. “Fine, fine.”

She helps him put on his tunic then leaves after one last fleeting kiss. Ryusui is talking to Tsukasa when his eyes catch hers again. And he grins.