Tenshi

Neither of you talked about it since your less than confident confessions, if you could even call them that. At most it was more like an omittance to being soulmates. The moment you stepped out of that cave to find that Korosensei was trying to push you and the rest of your classmates into falling in love, you and Karma shared a look. How or why Korosensei overlooked the two of you was a mystery especially since he knew what your wrist said. Don’t get it twisted, you thank your lucky stars he didn’t try pulling anything but you wonder if you guys were just too easy of a target for the romance to be juicy enough for him. Whatever the case, the class then got involved with pushing your other instructors together and you couldn’t just not help. It would have been extremely suspicious if you and Karma didn’t want to take any part in setting up Miss Bitch and Mr. Karasuma. So naturally you fell back into the flow of your erratic class and put your personal agenda on hold.

The problem is you didn’t have the right timing to bring it up after that. You’re especially surprised that Karma even reached out and asked if you wanted to come over, albeit to study but it was something. You were in his room, on his bed, seeing a side of him that your classmates didn’t even know existed. Granted you were his soulmate but to you it felt special. He’s always had this "too cool to care” kind of attitude but it felt like he was trying to put in some effort in his own Karma kind of a way. You shifted your head to look at him. This view that no one else gets to see, this is someone that you could see yourself falling in love with. 

Karma stretched as he got to the end of the page he was working on. When you first started working on solving problems you were making frustrated noises occasionally but you’ve grown rather quiet. Suspiciously quiet. He turned to catch you already staring at him with a look of awe. That caught him off guard. How long have you been staring at him? You looked so comfy on his bed and was that his DS? Wait a second you were both supposed to be studying. He slowly rolled up one of the thinner workbooks on the side of his desk and grinned as he approached.

There was nowhere for you to run. Karma was standing over you with a weapon and that devilish grin. “How long have you been playing around for?” Depending on your answer he was prepared to match that number with attacks.

You swallowed hard trying your best to keep eye contact while also saving your spot in the game. “Don’t even think about it,” you close the hand held device and hold it at the ready. “I will throw this.” You shake it around for emphasis.

Karma didn't even flinch. “I’d catch it or better yet, I'd incapacitate you before you have the chance-” You attempted to kick him but he caught your leg and dragged you closer to him. Karma tried to bonk you on the head but you parried it with the DS about to toss it aside when he grabbed your arm. He twisted it just enough to cause you to drop the DS so you tried to do the same with his makeshift weapon. 

It didn't work.

The most that it accomplished was pulling Karma more on top of you. It seemed to have surprised both of you, stopping the assault entirely. For a moment, that felt way too long for either of your comforts, you just stare at each other. If you didn’t know any better you would say Karma’s cheeks were dusted with a warmer tint than usual but the only thing you could think about was how his eyes seemed to peer down at your lips.

___

A few blocks away Korosensei was speeding along to invite his students out to a summer festival. Karma’s house was the next on his list after meeting up with Nagisa. Korosensei tapped on the redhead’s window before opening it to pitch his speech but as soon as he took a breath he choked on his own spit, absolutely startled by the picture in front of him. Karma had you pinned to the bed.

Korosensei’s appearance stunned the both of you as your heads whip around to face your teacher. What do you even say in this situation? Realistically you were in the privacy of Karma’s home, his parents were out of town and his room was on the second floor. Moreover this is not what it looked like in the slightest but knowing Korosensei his dirty mind was probably filling in a lot of blanks.

The silence, that felt like an eternity, was finally broken by Korosensei’s sheepish “Sorry for the intrusion.”

Which caused both you and Karma to yell at him and move to opposite edges of the bed as if you both had been burned. Neither of you looked at each other but you also didn’t want to look at Korosensei.

“So I take it you uh finally told him you were soulmates?” Korosensei said it so matter of factly it was embarrassing. Your voice came out strangled as you responded “Yeah, Nagisa figured out what happened and we cleared the air so to speak .”

Korosensei’s expression finally went back to normal. “Oh good, good! Glad to hear it but uh,” He paused looking at Karma who still hasn’t said much. “Consent is very important and make sure to practice safe-”

Karma lunged at him with the rubber knife he pulled out of his bag. “THAT’S NOT WHAT-IS THERE A REASON WHY YOU'RE HERE?!” Only Korosensei could get Karma this irritated you swear. Karma kept taking stabs at him and he dodged while laughing.

“Right! I wanted to go to a summer festival with your classmates but it seems like everyone else has other plans. Can you both come tonight?” Korosensei put his tentacles together literally begging you both to come.

Karma finally looked back at you, there were still traces of flush on his cheeks from being flustered. You smiled back at him and nodded. Karma only frowned and sighed. “Fine, it's not like we had anything better to do.”

Korosensei squealed with joy “Fantastic! See you lovebirds tonight and don't do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Karma closed the window violently “It's not like that you creep!”

You couldn’t contain your laughter. Only Korosensei knows how to push Karma’s buttons like this. You haven't seen him lose his cool like this since the beginning of the school year. You flop back on his bed holding your sides. That actually just happened. Oh god you got walked in on by your teacher. What a mess.

You felt the bed dip as Karma sat next to you “What’s got you all giggly?”

“It's just that Korosensei’s always teasing people about that kind of stuff but even he got unsettled by it when he thought…ya know.” You stopped laughing realizing you still haven't talked about it. Sure you were both soulmates but that doesn't automatically make you a couple. “Lovebirds” wasn't accurate either. You’ve never been “in love” so you’re not actually sure how that’s supposed to feel. You know you admire him and you like being around him. You Sit up. You're not sure how Karma feels. Well at least not how he feels thematically. You can very distinctly feel his emotions on occasion if they're strong enough but that's beside the point. 

Senshi - He usually left repairs to Chilchuck after joining the party. He was plenty capable himself, but he liked giving the young one something to do. “The youth deserve to feel useful.”, he had mused one night, earning a glare from the party’s resident half-foot. 

“Oh, because me saving all your asses from traps isn’t useful?” Chilchuck threw whatever he was working on at Senshi before storming off, ranting to the air in frustration of how thankless this job was.

“So hot-blooded.” The dwarf stared off after him before turning to the discarded project. You had already picked it up and were looking it over, it was Senshi’s empty pack. It was well-cared for, but had obviously seen many many years of use and repair. Uneven patches of cloth and thread scrawled over the whole of it. “I’ll fix it myself, give ‘er here.” But you were still holding it.

“I sew some myself, mind if I give it a go?” Senshi simply nodded, saying that it gave him more time to work on the party’s dinner tonight before turning away. You sat in a corner of the camp, evaluating the pack. It had one major hole that had worn through the bottom corner, and you noticed several old repairs that looked like they were barely hanging on. The hole itself was easy to patch, but it was the previous fixes that had you befuddled. After a closer look you wondered if any of the original fabric was even still there, or if it was all repairs. You didn’t have enough time or spare cloth to replace all of them so you settled for reinforcing what you could. It took awhile, and it had used up a lot of your sturdier thread, but it was done. Just in time for dinner. 

Wordlessly, you set the repaired pack by the dwarf and took your seat by the fire. The food was delicious, as always, and the party was cleaning up for the night when Senshi approached. “You did a good job, thank you.” He clapped your shoulder with his calloused hand, the gesture had more force behind it than you were expecting, but his hand was warm and the touch was kind. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Marcille - She wasn’t aware of your craft until a fight with an unlikely horde of Huge Scorpions broke out. “Why are there so many!?!” She shrieked, hitting them as hard as she could with her staff. Laios and Senshi were making quick work of the ones closest to them while yourself and the others tried to avoid getting stung or clipped. By the end of it, your party had quite the feast ahead of themselves. Laios was already talking about potential dishes to make out of their meat when Marcille sat down next to you dejectedly. Blonde hair dangling in her face and her long ears flattening down. 

Her coat had been torn in the scuffle, her dress as well. She was muttering to herself, “I really didn’t think I’d have to eat these again.”, looking on as Senshi tried to teach Izutsumi the importance of proper food preparation. Hoping to cheer her up, you offered to fix the damaged clothes. The slashes and holes were small, but abundant. You set to work. Finding a series of similarly colored threads in your small stash you began to embroider small flowers and leaves over the tears. The half-elf watched in awe at how quickly you worked.

“It would have been easier to hide the damage if you just hemmed the damn thing.” Chilchuck said, watching your hands. “It wouldn’t be as fun,” was all you offered as you finished up. Marcille was very thankful, telling you that she’d heal you first the next time a fight broke out as she dragged her fingers over the repaired cloth of her coat. The details were small, and if you weren’t looking for it, one could have assumed that it was just a design choice. 

Over dinner you told her you could fix her dress during your turn on watch that night. The night came and went. In the morning you handed her the dress, having forgotten to leave it by her pack before sleeping. “Thank you so much! It’s as good as new!” She said excitedly, turning it over in her hands. You were caught in a tight hug before you could register her words, warmth pooling in your cheeks. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Izutsumi - It’s a hobby she wouldn’t have much interest in doing herself. You tried once to teach her, trying desperately to redirect her energy from swatting at the strings. Her clawed nails catch on the fabric and it’s a slew of complaints the entire time. 

“Takes too long. The needle is hard to hold.” When she huffs in frustration you’re there over her shoulder gently prying her hands away from the cloth. Patiently, you sit with her and show her a better way to hold the hoop. She’s able to get through a single line of running stitch. It’s uneven and definitely isn’t straight, but she’s very proud of it. And you’re proud of her. Her task considered complete, by herself and herself alone, Izutsumi leaves as quickly as she came. 

You watch her settle in a corner of the camp and you’re left with the scrap of fabric. The rest of your party gets ready for bed and you sit on your cot with a project in mind for night watch. It passes the time and your shift is over as quickly as it began. You set a small sewn and stuffed fish by Izutsumi’s sleeping hand before waking Chilchuck for his turn. Settling in your cot once more, you wonder if she’ll lose it by the time this adventure ends.

The next morning, you try not to be too proud of yourself. She’s been staring at it groggily for a while as the others pack up. It was made with a bit of blue cloth that had been pulled from Marcille’s coat a few fights ago. There were two yellow buttons for eyes stitched on either side that you had scrounged from a chest that had long been pillaged of its true treasure. And on the flat of its tummy you had sewn in her work from the night prior, a red thread that ran in short and long bursts up the white fabric. You had stuffed it with some odd remaining threads that were too short to use for anything else. She wasn’t the type to say thank you, but watching her place it gingerly in her pack made your heart swell. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Laios - The tall-man had picked up basic repair skills very early on in his life, helping Falin in their old village with clothes and table cloths. It was a skill that helped in the dungeon, especially when one was too low on funds to buy new clothes every adventure. It was easier, and cheaper, to pack lightly and be prepared to fix something. But his craftsmanship wasn’t the best and he knew that. When Falin was here, she’d fix things with a spell. Or Chilchuck would make quick work of it with a needle and thread. 

Either way, he was covered. What had him interested in it lately though, was your addition to the party. Well, it was seeing the little blue fish that Izutsumi had. The button eyes reminded him of Falin, the yellow so similar to his and his sister’s golden eyes. And it gave him an idea. He had run into you on the way back from a bathroom trip when he asked you, “Can I ask for a favor?” 

It caught you off-guard, you hadn’t been asked to make things for people in so long. The pestering of your family for little toys and gifts having been almost forgotten in the journey of the dungeon. He wanted you to make a red dragon for Falin when they got her back. Nothing too large, and he promised to pay you for it once they were out and he could give the bank his promissory note. You mulled it over, it would be fun to have something consistent to work on during night watches, and the promise of extra coin from someone as loyal as Laios was nice too. The only problem was… 

“Help me find the materials, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Touden.” And so began an unlikely routine. Any scraps of cloth and thread he came across, especially if they were red, were given to you. From tables, rugs, tapestries, chests; you name it, and he had found some way to bring it to you. A few days of this you had quite the collection. It would take awhile to finish, but you set to work. Night after night working on a wing here, a spike there. Laios often would check on your progress, not in a nagging way, but in a curious one. Sitting with you during shift change as you explained what stitch you were using or how to cut a fabric with its weave. After one talk where you had explained how difficult it was to have this hobby in a place as sparse as a dungeon he had started to bring you other scraps too. All different sizes and textures, it got to a point where you had to politely ask him to stop as you didn’t have room in your pack.

It would take many more nights before you were done, but it was a good time, getting to talk with your party’s leader as you worked. And the fact that he was starting to have a stash of supplies for you in his own pack was an added bonus too. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chilchuck - Any other race would be overwhelmed with the amount of sensory overload that half-foots were built for. The sound of your pack was different, it had to be filled with mostly soft things but some hard too. Most likely glass if the muffled clinking meant anything. He found his suspicions to be true when you had woken him one night. Jars and pouches spread across your cot that you were trying to quietly collect and put away. He stretched as he stood to take his turn on night watch, eyes still bleary with sleep taking in your slow movements. 

“Hey,” you looked towards him, “why bring all this to a dungeon? Isn’t it a bit much?” His tone wasn’t unkind, merely curious. You paused, taking in the question. “Something to do, I guess.” Your voice was low and tired. He hummed an uncommitted response. He was prepared to let that be it, but something caught his eye. You were wrapping up something in a brown cloth, the contents seemingly plush and red. Was that- it was, no way. 

“Are you making a dragon??” His words were laced with an incredulousness and louder than he had intended them to be. You dropped it in shock. A soft thwump as it hit the stone floor. You hurriedly picked it back up, checking to see if anything was out of place.

“Laios asked me to make one for Falin.” You walked over to him and held it out in your palms. It was unfinished but the design was clear. A four-legged creature with a derpy toothed mouth, tiny and shiny black beads for eyes, and a one single wing. It seemed like the second one was still on your cot, unfinished, and the beginnings of the tail too. 

“Why the hell would Falin want a reminder of what ate her?” Chilchuck looked it over, “Honestly, his obsession with monsters-” 

“I thought it was sweet,” you interrupted, “I don’t know her like you guys do but,” you let him take it from your hands, “from what I’ve heard, her and Laios are very similar.” Chilchuck held the stuffed toy, glancing back at you as you looked over to the sleeping tall-man. “I think that the gesture will mean more to her than anything, a gift from her big brother.” You had a tired smile on your face. It sweetened and softened your face in a way the half-foot hadn’t seen before. You looked almost proud of Laios, like a parent excited their child wanted to do something kind for their sibling. It reminded him of when his daughters gave each other gifts.

 He blushed, looking back at the dragon in his hand. It was well made, despite the different scraps it consisted of. It had the same even stitching that he had noted on Senshi’s pack when he had come back to fix it after calming down. The same level of embellishment and detail he had seen on Marcille’s coat and dress. It was cute, even if it was odd to him, he couldn’t deny that. When he looked back at you he saw you looking at him. Sleepiness weighed down your shoulders but you kept that same soft smile. He handed it back to you, acutely aware of the tips of your fingers grazing his gloves. 

“Maybe so.” Is all he said as you returned to your cot to sleep for the night.

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

Thank you so much for reading! Chucklefuck Tims is my fave but I did want to explore writing for all the characters in the main party <3 Let me know who your fave is

Things weren’t looking good. They haven’t for a few hours. An unexpected fight, was, well, expected at any point of their journey. But that didn’t make them any easier to deal with. The farther they get into the dungeon, the more bullshit that gets thrown at them. The fewer spots for reprieve. It was their fourth encounter in the span of a day. Marcille was low on mana, Izutsumi out of patience, and the rest of your party was low on stamina. But what was most worrying were your injuries. 

The first two fights were fine. Swarms of angry things, annoying yet manageable. But in the third they were stuck in a trapped room, Chilchuck needed to get a gate open that was their only way to avoid being crushed. The stress, the adrenaline running out, he made a mistake. Setting off some other trap. And you’d pushed him out the way. Taking the blow that was meant for him just to give him more time. The party barely made it by the skin of their teeth when the exit forced them into a water tunnel, one that was freezing and windy. Ice slurry and snow flowing along the stream next to them. It felt a lot like the 6th level which was off putting considering how deep they were. But there was no time to focus on that. Not when you fall into the water in exhaustion, blood starting to flow and stain a bright crimson that only darkened the longer it took for them to get to you. 

Marcille and Senshi form a human chain to get Laios down to grab you. When they finally have you back at the bank is when they get caught up in another fight. You were dead weight, consciousness barely hanging on. Spite moving you forward as everyone drew their weapons. Your arms were heavy. And the wind burned you. The tips of your ears, your nose, your fingers, were burning. You feel something coming towards you but can’t react before you’re knocked to the ground. A familiar metallic twinge coating your tongue, flooding your airways. This isn’t the worst way you’ve died, you think. It still sucks. But it isn’t the worst. 

You barely hear the shouting of your party members over the wind. Over the pounding in your ears. You make out your name once or twice before you’re out cold. 

You’re back. Everything was moving so fast. What was going on? 

There was shouting, the howling of wind at the cave’s mouth. A cave? The howling of something else too. An angry monster. It made you feel silly to think that. Like a small child afraid of the dark. You feel your body be moved and know it isn’t you moving it. Why can’t you move? 

And it was getting darker. Harder. To. Breathe. To think. Thoughts flowing in and out of your focus. Just as you made sense of one you’d lose it. Forget it. And start to follow another. 

Then a change. All your thoughts come to one point. 

Pain. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“You can’t be serious!” Chilchuck sputtered while he and Senshi dragged you into the center of the room. Marcille was busy starting a magic circle next to you. 

“It’s our best shot right now-” Was all Laios could say before he heard Izutsumi call out to them.

“A little help! What’s taking you guys so long?” Her annoyance was not unwarranted, considering the bind she was in. Despite her agility, she had to be exhausted too. Especially now that she was the only out there distracting that thing for them. The ground shook with the impact of it trying desperately to catch the artificial beast-man. “If I kill another thing all by myself again you guys OWE me!” A growl in her voice that could barely be heard over the wind. 

A slight yellow glow had started in the middle of the room. The hue catching on your wet hair, shifting and shimmering as you shiver. Senshi tries to lay you down gingerly while Marcille rushes to your side. Her words wobbly, “Oh no, this is bad.” 

“Can’t you just heal her?” The picklock doesn’t mean to sound angry. And he knows that no one holds it against him in these circumstances. Still, the twinge of guilt bites at the back of his tongue. He watches as Laios pulls out a bedroll and starts pulling blankets too. Confusion takes over the panic for a second before their leader speaks. 

“Hypothermia.” The tall man grabs another large bundle from one of their packs. Working the tanned fur hide of the shapeshifter work to cover the cave mouth just as they did in the sauna. “Cold-sickness. Laying in that water, and the air. Even after Marcille's healing magic, if we can’t heat up-”

Cries fill the air. A sound you know but can’t place. A burning in your abdomen, like a knife, like acid, like fire, like death. Your voice. Contorted and raspy. The feeling of your nerves coming back to life. The moving of flesh coming back together. Things gone flat, filling back with blood, with air, with energy. And the pain that follows. Air catching in your lungs, ice cold air that dries out every inch of your mouth. Trying to cough and feeling your throat get stuck on itself. Pain. Panic. Your heart beating impossibly fast. 

And then it slows again. So slow. You’re still desperate for more air that you can’t catch. Can’t hold onto.

Not when you’re so tired.  

“That’s why you need to do this.” Chilchuck doesn’t have time to argue. Everyone is moving in tandem, trying to move you into a bedroll, trying to disrobe you. Extra blankets fluttering open and being laid across the top of you. “I mean, half-foots are notoriously hot-blooded right? Skin to skin is the fastest way.”

“Not notoriously…” There wasn’t much he could say to get out of this situation. He knew things were only going to get worse. You were getting paler by the second, lips unnaturally colored. And then Izutsumi calls out again. 

Voice haggard, exhaustion starting to get to her too. “Can someone get out here already!” And then another yell. Senshi runs out of the cave at the sound, knife and pot in tow. Marcille is still fussing with your clothes by the magic circle to dry them out. 

“It’s gotta be you Chil, you’ve got the best chances of doing it quickly.” Laios is readying his sword when Marcille stands. She has her staff at the ready, still nervously glancing at your still body. She puts the foot of it by the magic circle, imbuing it with more heat before Laios stops her. “Not too fast. It could make things worse.” She pulls back just as quickly as she starts before another slam shakes the cave. It forces the pelt to move just enough that a gust of cold air gets in. “We’ve got to lead it away from here if we can, go, help the others.” The caster joins the fray. 

It’s rare moments like this where Laios earns the respect of his party. It’s rare moments like this where everyone listens. So Chilchuck finds it hard to say no again. Especially when Laios looks at him that way. Like he knows that this is the best option. The only option. Like he knows that he can trust the pick lock to do the right thing. And then he’s gone too. Chil stares at the pelt as it falls back into place, and then to you.

And he curses the air. Anger and embarrassment and shame all swirling in familiar uncomfortability in his stomach. Of course he’d do it. He has to. But he hates it. Hates this. This is how parties break apart. Crossing lines in the name of it ‘being the only choice’. Healers dealt with it the most. Got away with it the most. And then the guilt gains its own voice as he stares at your almost lifeless form. “You die without this. Without him.” 

He strips. Hating every second of it. Even with the magic circle working to heat the space the air was still frigid. The cowl comes off first, then boots, and the rest of his layers follow. The cave floor was like ice. He keeps his underwear on. No amount of coaxing from Laios was going to make him do full skin-to-skin. Chil gets closer to you and can see the discomfort on your face. It pulls your brows together, lines that can’t fully form as you get closer and closer to sleep. When he pulls the blankets back he tries not to look directly at you. Instead focusing on how he doesn’t even have to touch you to feel the coolness of your skin. He hears the party grow more and more distant.

He looks at the makeshift door as he climbs behind you. His thoughts can't focus. Not flinching away from every point of contact, or, deciding on the likelihood your party wipes here. What are the odds that this cave belongs to that creature out there. Dying next to you, with you both in your-

Oh.

Oh No.

Marcille had truly removed everything. Out of what he assumed was an abundance of caution. You had to have been drenched in that water. Soaked to the bone. You were freezing. On the off they chance you both were revived he'd never live it down.

You felt like a corpse. Now was not the time. Your skin was cold. It took everything in him to not wince immediately, having to give up on the idea the flusher he pressed himself against you. Your fingers were coldest. Held in his hand like icicles, stiff and unmoving. A clamminess starting to form. You stirred, hissing from the touch. It must have felt like he was burning. He thinks of the oil that splashed on him when Senshi had him use the fire trap oil. Or the feeling of steam coming from a boiling kettle. He feels you try to move away, but the ache of the cold keeps you there.  

It makes him want to apologize, but he knows that you need this. He’s the warmest member of the party, he’s the only one here, and you are not going to last otherwise. He tries not to jostle you too much, just trying to get you on your side, have you face the fire. He braces himself and gently starts to lift you. One hand slinking beneath your mid-back, and one on your shoulder to try and pivot you. He has to use his knee to push on your hip. You let out a hoarse groan at the repositioning, and he lets out a curse at how cold your back is on his chest.

It forces a breath out of him that moves some of your damp hair onto his face. He brushes it out of the way before moving his hands to your shoulders. And then your face. Your nose burned against his palm. Cheeks slightly warmer before your ears burned the same way. He could feel you breathing. Slowly. But steadier than before.

"Are you there?" Nothing. Chilchuck moves his hands to your side, trying to find a place to rest them that was appropriate yet still gave you as much warmth as possible. "Do you…" Oh he was going to curse Laios out in so many languages. "Do you want me to hold you?" The words get quieter the longer the sentence goes. Ridiculous. This was so fucking stupid. He puts his hands to your hips. Ignoring the tenderness of the flesh. Ignoring the way goosebumps build just below his fingertips. Ofcourse you have goosebumps. You're freezing to death.

He can hear your heartbeat slowing. Hyperaware of every movement you make. Or aren't making. The hoarseness of every shallow breath.

He attempts to turn you. Because you need to get fire evenly from all sides. Feel him on all sides. The half-foot grinds his teeth. Vile. He is being vile. Still. You almost end up on your back again, but he pulls you closer, just a bit tougher. Just to keep you from falling. Just to have your back heated by the fire. But then he was face to face with you. With frost nipped cheeks and wet lashes. Closed eyes. Calm and trusting. Lips full, cracked yet so full.

No amount of logical thinking is going to help him. Your body may not be warm, but when was the last time he had laid with someone. Dire circumstances or not. Your chest is to his, your pliant arms and-

The guilt coursing through him had to be helping somewhat. Even if his consciousness grappled to be useful, the warmth of his shame had to be doing something for you. For your plight. Even if it was tauntingly serving as fuel for his own. He shifts to face away. The picklock lifts your arms around under his, grabbing you by the wrists and settling them in front. Trying to get your hands to warm up on his chest. Linking his fingers with yours.

And you finally come to. All the moving, the shifting, the pins and needles in your hands. Your feet. A whine behind his ear. He stiffens.

"It hurts. It… tickles? I," You gasp and twitch. "I can't." He can feel your hands try to move on their own. But they don't. Locked on themselves, too cold to move, too overwhelmed to pick a direction. He tries to focus on helping you. Instead of imaging your words in any other context than the one reality was based in. He presses his thumb into the meat of your palm. Pushing and rubbing it towards the center. Then taking his whole hand and trapping your four fingers into his, trying desperatley to massage them. Stretching his body to catch your cold feet with his calves. It forced your legs up, as if you were spooning him. You both hiss at the contact. At the change.

Your thighs. Your stomach. Your legs. Your chest. Every part of you touching him. His hands were holding yours as you shook and pressed your face into the crook of his shoulder.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry." Mortification seemed to rouse you further from your sleep. "How did-"

"You were freezing to death. After almost bleeding to death." He isn't sure what else to say. He's not ever sure that was the answer to your question. But you don't say anything. Instead he feels you trying to flex your hands. The slow strain as you try to unfurl your fingers, it shakes your arm just barely. "Don't push yourself." He presses your hand to his chest. "You're not nearly warm enough yet."

"I'm sorry Chil. To put you in this position. I know that…" What word do you even use here. He sits in silence with your pause. He'd go with any answer. If it meant not feeling the reverberation of your voice in his spine. The puffs of air as you speak and shiver into the nape of his neck. "that you're not. You don't approve? Of inter-party relationships. I promise, I won't read into this." He can't judge you for thinking that way. He knows exactly why. How many minutes - no - hours has he spent lecturing the party on unnecessary intimacy. On keeping calm. On understanding boundaries.

Yet.

All of that high and mighty attitude was about to crumble. If you dared to move your hands down. If you got remotely close to his stomach. You'd feel it. The extra heat. The stiffness that strained against what was left of his modesty. So he holds your hands close to his chest, and hopes that your hands were just numb enough to ignore the pounding in his chest. A feeling not at all echoed in the pulsing beneath his boxers. The blood rushing in his ears.

"Don't worry about that right now." He hopes you mistake the strain in his voice for disdain. Anything to prevent his internal struggle from being allowed to permeate his thoughts a second longer.

There’s this moment that happens in everyone’s life, where they have to make a choice. Do your principles matter?

And he has to decide. To live by his code or follow the curve of your body with his own. It’s awful. It’s stupid. It makes his cheeks heat, makes his heart race, makes him want to yell in frustration. Because in all his time, how was he supposed to be faced with his own lack of conviction, now, here. With so much else on the line? 

"Chil?" He snaps back to you. Your hands pulling from his and settling into the curls of his chest hair. Finally flexible enough to splay across the surface seeking warmth. Seeking him. "Where is the rest of the party. There was that trap and then-"

"And then you risked your life. And we got thrown into a blizzard. And you fell into water. Managed to get hit again. And now the Laios and the others are trying to kill the damn thing while you take a nap." He lets frustration color his voice. Willing it to manifest as the reason for the gruffness he can hear.

You try to pull at a hair in annoyance. "Oh that's such a kind thank you. You're so welcome." Chilchuck swats at your offending hand before whirling around (as best as one can in a shared bedroll) and pushing your wrists to your shoulders.

"You should be the one thanking me. I could have just as easily let you freeze to death. The only reason I'm even doing this is because they left before I could tell them to buzz off." Liar. But you don't need to know. He's certain you don't believe him anyway, he just needs it to be any other reason the one that keeps his hips from pressing into your front. He lets you go. "I should just get up now."

"Wait!" You tense. "Please, not yet. You're so warm." Your cheeks get redder, face flushing. "I'm sorry, please, don't go." The words come out shakily, hushed. You're shivering harder just at the thought of him, his warmth, leaving you.

Torture. This had to be torture. You sounded pathetic. Sad and hurt like a lost dog. And he has to concede to his morals. He was not someone who could truly forgive himself for committing acts on base desires. Not with you. Who was so careful to maintain every boundary he has set. Who was there for every member of the party as best you could be. You who he learned to begrudgingly respect out of the bumbling fools he found himself surrounded with. So Chilchuck doesn't say anything.

He wills his muscles to stop tensing. Tries to lay down next to you and be… calm about it. When you realize he's not going anywhere you press into him. If you felt anything you don't say. He wonders if your limbs are still too numb to notice. Or if his guilt-driven reality check killed the evidence. A few minutes pass of silence. The whistle of the cold wind sneaking through the make-shift door the only real noise. Not even the party could be heard.

It makes him hyper aware of your every sound. Of his. And he can't stand it. But you beat him to breaking the silence.

"I am sorry you know. I didn't mean for this to happen, and-"

He can't stand the wobble in your voice. "You don't need to be sorry. It was my ass on the line earlier. You wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had just done my damn job." He feels you shift.

"One mistake or two the whole time I've known you. Pretty good track record in my book."

He wants to smile at that. Instead, he does nothing, you continue. "Compared to you lot, I'm a whole lot less driven." More feelings he doesn't know what to do with. Thoughts and learnings he doesn't want to get caught up on. Yet you keep talking.

"You all have goals, dreams. And I only came to this dungeon because I needed something to do." You laugh. It's small and turns into a cough that presses your chest to his with every staggered breath.

When you still he speaks.

"You're… a valuable member of this party…" His words are quiet. And he wonders if he is really saying any of this out loud. "Don't be jealous of us. Your life is your own. I just happen to be stupid enough to rent mine for hire."

You laugh again, more life behind it this time. "You know, I've seen that bill. Might be getting a pretty good deal." He hums in response. Choosing to be grateful for the normalcy you both were attempting to maintain.

And it goes like for a bit. Silence, shifting to keep your blood circulating, then tidbits of a conversation before slipping into silence again.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"You miss the snow?"

"Silly isn't it." Neither of you have to say yes. Not when you were still struggling to open and close your fist half and hour ago. "But I do. I miss getting to play in it, and have the choice to come inside after."

That pulls a laugh from him, and you continue. "Warm blankets, a fire that smelled like fire. Sounded like fire. Don't get me wrong, Marcille's magic is great but-"

"What?" He can't help the interruption. "Being magic takes the magic out of it?"

"I guess I'm not making a lot of sense." Embarrassment obvious in your voice.

"No you are. It just makes you sound like Senshi." You try to give a feeble smack at his side. And it has more force to it than either of you thought. He lets out a strained laugh as the air is forced out of him. If he was honest, he likely could pull away and you be fine now. And if was being more honest, he knew he didn't want to.

Not when you laid there curled into him. Hands starting to absentmindedly play with his chest hair. Your head tucked into the crook of his neck, leg hooked over his. He can't remember the last time he just -is cuddled even the right word- had someone hold him. Chil wants to run far away from here and never move again at the same time.

And you don't seem to be moving any time soon either. But it does have to come to and end. The party approaches, their after battle banter starting to carry over the wind. You can't hear it like he can, so he tries to absorb every last minute. Catalogue the way your fingernails lightly scratch his chest. The way your breathing has evened out with spirit behind it. How in this small amount of time he has learned more about you, shared more with you, than he ever would have otherwise.

Yet the inevitable still arrives, the subtle shifts you both take, the silence of him removing himself. The shuffle of clothes returning to bodies as Laios and the others get closer. Their leader enters first, exhaustion not hiding the excitement of eating this new monster. Izutsumi is complaining about the fight. Senshi is prepping their meal.

He could pretend like things were normal. He could pretend that he wouldn't think of this for many nights to come. He could lose himself to the routine.

He could hope you do the same.

Marcille enters next, immediately rushing to your side, hand on your forehead. Chilchuck rolls his eyes at her fussing. It's a practiced motion, but can't stop the way he observes now. The way you flush when you make eye contact with him. The fact that he can still feel your touch like a whisper on his skin.

He could hope all he wanted.

But he knows where this goes.

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

And if I said I wanted to write him as a pathetic mean pervert instead what would we say.... any yays in the crowd orrrr.... :D

The moment the third period came to an end, Senku dragged you out of class without saying anything. You had grown used to it, hence you let him tug on your wrist softly without asking questions. 

He guided you swiftly through the bustling hallway. The two of you reached his locker, and before you could peek to check what he was reaching out for, he handed you a small milk carton. It was still cold.

He clicked the roof of his tongue out of annoyance. “Your glucose levels crashed halfway through the third period. How many times do I have to tell you not to skip breakfast?” 

You gave him a cheeky smile, already familiar with the gesture. “Thanks, Sen. I woke up late again, okay?” 

Behind the two of you, Taiju and Yuzuriha watched the interaction. Both were clearly shocked, however, for two completely different reasons. 

Taiju aggressively pointed at the milk carton in your hands, “Senku! How did you keep it cold?!” 

“Insulated water bottle and ice. She won't drink it unless it's cold.” He said so casually while reading something on his phone. 

Yuzuriha, however, wasn't curious about the science behind the cold milk carton. No, she was curious about the scientific explanation as to why you acted as if this was normal. How Senku acted as if this was normal. 

“Was that really normal? I don't think it was…” she asked when it was just the two of you; her voice remained soft and polite. 

Senku had made his way to the science laboratory while Taiju was eager to see another fascinating experiment of his. 

You hummed, “Yeah, that's just how Senku has always been. I call it his acts of science. He says it's to keep me efficient.” 

Senku always did things like that. He had a knack with his small gestures, weaving them into the fabric of your daily life.

It wasn't strange or new to you. Not really. Not when he's been consistently doing it for years. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

You constantly complain about headaches almost every afternoon, especially during study sessions. Muttered complaints fell from your lips easily, and rubbing your temples became a habit. 

“You're dehydrated.” You heard him say from across you while working with a circuit board, one that was too complex for you to understand. It wasn't a question; it sounded like a statement from his observation.

You lift your head up, tired eyes meeting his striking red ones. With a weak smile, you muttered out, “Thanks for the diagnosis, doc.”

“Tch.” 

He didn't say anything else as he pulled out a water bottle from his bag, followed by a pack of electrolyte powder. 

He pushed the opened bottle forward, the bits of electrolyte powder already dissolving into the water. “You’re inefficient when your body is malfunctioning.” 

You gave him a knowing smile before he continued to work on his circuit board. Senku's focus returned to it, or so you thought. 

“And your caffeine intake is garbage. Stop consuming it like a lifeline.” 

Your smile faltered. “Hey, you're acting like you don't drink coffee too, genius!” You retorted, frustration lacing your tone.

Without even glancing up from his circuit board, he shot back, “Unlike someone, I don't rely on it to function properly.”

You threw an eraser at him, to which he dodged effortlessly, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

Still, despite your banter, there was an undeniable truth. Senku always seemed to notice everything before you did.

Yet you never asked. That was just the way he was—always too observant. Always a step ahead.

Right?

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The science laboratory always smelled like chemicals, metals, and something burning whenever Senku felt like it. 

It was enough to remind students passing by that Senku Ishigami was inside—most likely taking something apart or fixing it, mixing chemicals, or accidentally blowing something up. 

The laboratory wasn't just occupied by him; there were multiple other students working on something. Though they were never as over-the-top as the ones Senku worked on.

In the middle of it all sat Senku, who had recently cleaned up after a chemical experiment. The sleeves of his lab coat were now rolled, revealing his forearms as he worked on the blueprint of his next rocket model. 

The room around him hummed with conversation, though most people knew better than to interrupt him while he worked. 

Which was why a question from another student caught everyone off guard. 

“Hey, Senku.”

“What?” He replied flatly. 

The student hesitated briefly before pointing at Senku's wrist. “What's with the hair tie?” 

Every head in the science laboratory turned immediately because now that someone was brave enough to mention it, there really was a black hair tie looped around his wrist. 

It wasn't unusual at first. Not until people started noticing months ago that Senku always had one on his wrist. They assumed it belonged to him, perhaps to tie his hair during experiments—but no, his hair defied the laws of physics. 

And he never used it. Not even once. 

The student leaned back against the table, a grin on his face as he asked, “You got a girlfriend or something?” 

The room instantly erupted as the question flew out of the students’ mouths. 

“No way! Senku? Seriously?” 

“As if! You really think he has any time for romance?” 

“There's no way, are we talking about the same Senku Ishigami?” 

“That's what a hair tie means, though!” The student argued defensively, pointing at Senku's wrist. “It's literally a thing, guys wear them when they're taken.” 

Senku didn't even bother to look up from the blueprint he was working on, though an irritated look was evident on his face. 

“Dumbest thing I've heard all day.” 

“So that's a no, Senku?” 

“Tch, idiots. Use your brains for once.” 

That unfortunately didn't answer anything. However, everyone seemed to be too interested and eager in the conversation. 

“So is it someone's?” A student from a corner asked. 

Senku finally looked up from his blueprint, clicking the roof of his tongue. “Obviously. Why would I use one when my hair defies gravity and is never in the way?” 

The room went silent before, 

“OHHHH?” 

“No way?!” 

Senku looked far more annoyed after hearing their reactions, which, unfortunately, only encouraged everyone further. 

“It's basic efficiency." He deadpanned. “Unlike you idiots, I account for predictable patterns to avoid unnecessary situations.” 

Then, the doors of the science laboratory suddenly opened. 

“Senku?” Your voice cut through the room of chaos, completely unaware of the chaos you've interrupted and caused. 

Everyone turned to the door, not just Senku. 

You blinked, feeling uncomfortable at the unexpected attention from everyone. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” 

“No reason,” half of the room replied in unison before pretending to focus on their work again. 

You frowned suspiciously, eyes settled on Senku as your facial expression asked him questions. He didn't say anything, just stared back as you walked towards him. 

You stopped next to him and allowed the suspicion to simmer down as you remembered the reason you were there. “Do you have a hair tie?” 

Without saying a word, he lifted his wrist toward you, as if by muscle memory. Your fingers moved automatically and reached out for it. 

“Lost another one? You're too careless, idiot.” 

You ignored his remark, and with one smooth motion, you slid it off his wrist before tying your hair with practiced ease.

“Thanks, Sen.” You gave him a grin. “I'll see you after school.” 

“Hm.” 

Senku returned to his blueprint without saying anything else the moment you left. 

The room stayed silent for three seconds after you closed the door behind you before erupting into chaos once more. 

“What was that?!” 

“I knew it was her!” 

Senku ignored their loud chaos, his hand already reaching out for the pocket of his pants, and pulled out another hair tie, slipping it onto his wrist. 

“Tch, you people are seriously annoying.” 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

You never questioned Senku's acts of science. Never. Not even when Yuzuriha’s teasing became a little too frequent. 

It was normal; you were used to it for years. Why bother to question it now?

The sound of rain suddenly falling from the skies sliced through your reverie. You halted, staring at the building window next to the staircase, before a groan escaped from your lips. 

“Great. Just great.” You had forgotten your umbrella. Although you always forget to bring it, this time was different. You had asked Senku to go home without waiting for you. The same guy who never forgets to bring an umbrella and checks the weather forecast. 

You made your way down the stairs, and your mood was a perfect match with the gloomy weather outside. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Your head snapped up toward the familiar voice, and your gaze immediately landed on him, Senku. One hand in his pocket while leaning against a wall near the staircase.

Your mouth fell open in shock. “Sen—?! What are you doing here?!” 

“I was waiting for you, what else?” He answered casually. Too casually, as if you didn't ask him not to wait for you. 

He walked closer to you, his lab coat hanging on one shoulder while his bag hung on the other. An umbrella settled on one of his hands. 

“I told you not to wait!” 

“And?” 

“It's raining, and it's late!” 

“Yeah, no kidding. I'm not blind.” 

Without waiting for your response, he threw the lab coat on your shoulder, catching you off guard again. “Wear it, you'll get cold if you don't.” 

You frowned, yet slipped on his lab coat. “You should've gone home.” 

“Yeah, and leave you here with a 10 billion percent chance of being stranded? You never bring an umbrella or check the weather forecast, idiot.” His tone was completely matter-of-fact, like the answer should've been obvious.

He watched as you struggled with the sleeves. He clicked the roof of his tongue before walking closer, hands already hovering over yours. 

“You're hopeless.” He spoke with a tone that was softer than before. Then, with quick, efficient movements, his hands adjusted the sleeves and collar of his lab coat. 

Your breath got caught in your throat for a brief moment because of the proximity. “You really didn't have to wait for me, y’know?” Your voice sounded small.

“You get sick too easily. You have the immune system of a Victorian child.” The tone of his voice remained soft as he buttoned the coat properly, ensuring it was secured around your body. 

You laughed at the last part, eyes admiring the way his hands moved with the same precision he had when working on an experiment. 

He took a step back after he was done. "Besides, Byakuya would never let me hear the end of it if he found out I left without you.” 

You grinned, already hooking your arm with his. “Yeah, he would probably say he raised you better than that. Let's go home, Sen.” 

That evening, the two of you walked home through the wet streets and drizzling rain. Yet you remained dry. Senku's lab coat protected you from the raindrops as well as the umbrella he held tightly above the two of you. 

You never said anything regarding the proximity or the gesture. You were used to him acting like this. It was normal in your vocabulary. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Your mother's loud knocking on your bedroom door finally woke you up from your slumber. 

“Aren't you hanging out with Senku today? Why are you still sleeping?” She asked as she entered your room, eyeing your sleepy figure, who had just woken up.

“Hang out with Senku…?” 

Your eyes shot open in realization. You were supposed to help Senku purchase an engine component for his new rocket model today.

You immediately got out of bed, nearly tripping over your blanket, and ran straight to the shower, one of your hands grabbing your towel on the way there. 

“Be careful!” Your mother yelled out of concern.

After a shower, you scrambled to get ready. Your clothes were everywhere after you forgot to prepare an outfit the night before. After selecting one, you searched for a pair of socks before rushing downstairs. 

“Senku's already outside.” Your mother said as she watched you hastily put on your socks, hands already reaching out for your sneakers. 

You bid your mother goodbye, already making it past the front door. Your eyes spot Senku, who was waiting for you. 

He turned right before your hands fell to your knees for support, panting and out of breath after you practically ran while getting ready. 

“You should consider using an alarm.” His voice was laced with amusement as he knelt down, hands already reaching out to tie your shoelaces. 

“You could've tripped over your shoelaces again.” 

Your heart skipping a beat didn't help you at all. It was normal, you swore to yourself. He fixes your shoelaces all the time. It was just efficient.

Your breathing finally returned to normal. “I did, I slept through it.” 

He chuckled before standing up, hand reaching out to flick your forehead. “Idiot, did you sleep late again?” 

You raised a brow, hitting him playfully. “You're one to talk, genius.” 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Senku's experiments were a constant source of fascination. You were always interested and could hardly take your eyes away whenever he was mixing his colorful array of chemicals in the lab.

“You're too close,” he said, voice edged with concern.

“Huh?”You replied, momentarily distracted.

Before you could process his warning any further, you felt Senku's hand grab your wrist, pulling you behind him right before the Erlenmeyer flask erupted,  bubbles frothing violently at the surface.

Your eyes widened in curiosity as you peeked from behind him. “Whoa,” 

His grip never left yours, never loosened; it remained steady around your wrist.  “Exactly why I told you not to stand too close.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “You say that every single time, Sen.” 

“And you're stubborn every single time.” He countered back, his grip tightening around your wrist, ensuring you wouldn’t inch any closer.

His grip felt firm, protective, and undeniably comforting. It felt like a silent assurance that you were safe in his presence. You didn't question it; after all, Senku always did things like that, didn't he?

⋆⭒˚.⋆

One of the perks of living near Senku meant you could always crash at his place, and Byakuya allowed you to do so. Especially whenever he's busy training to be an astronaut on the other side of the world. 

The living room of the Ishigami household was lit by the television screen across you, as well as the faint light coming from the windows. Senku's presence was near and grounding as the two of you watched another move that you picked, of course.

You didn't realize you were crying—not at first. The dialogues bled with a soundtrack that was clearly designed to hurt you slowly. 

Beside you, Senku exhaled through his nose. He couldn't comprehend why you kept choosing movies that clearly tugged at your heartstrings.

“Statistically speaking, you've chosen emotional damage 6 times in a row.” He spoke, voice flat as he stared at the screen with a look of boredom. He wouldn't be watching these movies if it weren't for you.

“Shut up, Sen.” You laughed through your flowing tears. Your voice was shaky as the soundtrack was starting to affect you harder. 

That was when he finally looked at you, a frown appearing on his face as he saw the tears streaming down, your hands already hovering above your eyes to rub them. 

You were crying again. Rubbing your eyes on top of that, too. 

“Stop doing that.” He said immediately, tone firm.

You blinked, “Huh?” 

“Tch,” his hands reached out, pulling yours away from your face before you could even process it. His grip was gentle, quick, and precise. 

“You’re going to irritate your corneas if you keep rubbing your eyes,” he continued, as if a doctor was scolding their patient. “Damage delicate blood vessels, make the inflammation worse— do you want me to continue?” 

He warned, and you shook your head. “I'm just—” 

“Crying and rubbing your eyes.” He finished for you, clearly unimpressed. 

His hands never released your wrists. With a sigh, he pulled them down gently. “Why do you always choose movies that do this to you? It's stupid.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to argue and defend your choices. “It's part of the experience, Senku.” 

“Yeah, right, I believe you,” he mocked softly. 

He shifted closer, hands releasing your wrists. And with the same irritating precision he used for everything else, he reached out for your cheeks, gently wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumbs. 

His touch was careful, almost too careful. As if it were another adjustment made to a system that had slightly fallen out of equilibrium. 

“The movie wasn't even great,” he muttered, yet his thumb didn't stop. “Crying over a predictable plot outcome?” 

You glared at him with angry tears, yet he smiled in return as you lunged to attack him. 

“Stop watching them with me if you're only going to judge me, you menace!” 

His chuckle filtered the dialogue from the movie, letting you tug at his hair all you want. 

“Who will stop you from damaging your eyes if I stopped?” He countered casually—too casually, as if it was a natural response. 

You halted, your hands frozen in his hair for a moment before he gently pried them away. 

“What?” He asked, red eyes already staring into yours, the light from the window behind you reflecting on it. “You're acting like I don't do it often.” 

Right. He does. He does it so often that it has always felt natural. And somewhere along the way, you stopped noticing it entirely. Perhaps you’ve noticed, yet dismissed the thoughts. Never allowing yourself to look further into what those actions actually meant.

Because it was Senku. 

Senku Ishigami, the genius who treats inconveniences as problems to solve for the sake of efficiency. However, he was also the boy who remembered things nobody else did. 

And still, despite everything, you never called it anything else. It was just Senku's acts of science. You chose to dismiss the feeling of your chest tightening painfully as the realization was coming closer. 

No, it was just his acts of science, right?

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Wrong. 

You were wrong, utterly wrong. Or at least you thought so, as the realization refused to be dismissed any further after being buried from years of excuses, the familiarity of routines, and the comfort that you understood Senku's nature. 

Because that was easier. It was easier than confronting the terrifying realization that maybe everyone else had been right all along. 

Perhaps it was never purely about science. Maybe it wasn't just about efficiency, logic, or the fact that Senku disliked being unable to solve inconveniences. 

Maybe—

Your breath got caught in your throat again, between your tempting realization and the reflex to push it down. The thought settled painfully; it felt almost impossible to make it go away. 

Your memories weren't much help either, as they replayed endlessly without permission, refusing to stay harmless. 

The reminders, the way he noticed things before you did, the way he was always prepared for your inconveniences as if he had already calculated them, the way he always remembered. 

The realization was everywhere, taunting you dangerously. You could see it in everything you dismissed as his acts of science.

Which was why the sight of the small metal tube of lip stain on your hands felt almost unbearable as it weighed and catalyzed your realization. 

“Try it already,” Senku spoke from his desk chair across from you, who sat on his bed, your usual spot. He sounded mildly annoyed at your silence. 

You couldn't really blame him. You've been silent for too long, buried in your thoughts that refused to go quiet. 

It was almost funny, really. A lip stain was all it took to catalyze your realization. However, it wasn't just any lip stain. It was a replica of the one that you've been searching for endlessly for the past few weeks. 

The same lip stain you cried over with embarrassing levels of devastation after losing it, especially since it was discontinued everywhere. You could recall the countless times you brought it up whenever you were with Senku. How the shade was your favorite since it suited you so well, and how you couldn't find any alternatives. 

“You…made this?” You spoke out softly, finally finding your voice again.

He clicked the roof of his tongue. “Yeah? Why are you acting so surprised as if I hadn't made things before?” 

Your eyes refused to leave the lip stain in your hands. The metal surface felt cool against your fingers. You noticed the engraving of your name on the packaging, which wasn't like the packaging of your previous lip stain with stickers that wore out easily after a few uses.

You heard the wheels of his desk chair roll closer towards you. “I changed the packaging since you always complained about the lettering wearing off easily.” 

“How did you remember the shade?” You looked up at him, and your eyes immediately met his again. He was already looking at you. 

He gave you his signature laugh. “That was the hard part. Learning cosmetology was 10 billion percent easier. I had to rely on information and pictures online, as well as yours.” 

“I would've finished it within a week if you had tested out the shade samples yourself.” He smirked, “Byakuya kept whining that it'd ruin the surprise.” 

You tilted your head, “Byakuya knew about this?” 

“Of course. He caught me watching a cosmetology crash course at 2 AM.” 

You found yourself laughing at his response. Your grin was wide, so wide that it made your cheeks hurt. You were genuinely so happy.

You kept smiling even when you were no longer laughing. Senku raised a brow, mirroring the previous tilt of your head. “What?” 

“You're—” your grin appeared again, your cheeks were really starting to hurt. “You're so sweet, Sen.” 

He paused in disbelief. “Hah? What are you talking about—” 

Your sudden hug caught him off guard, and your added weight pushed the desk chair backward slightly. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, one hand still gripping the lip stain tightly. 

“Thank you, Sen. Seriously, I don't know how to thank you enough.” 

He clicked the roof of his tongue again, acting annoyed, yet the smile on his face said otherwise. As well as his hand that steadied you against him, returning the hug. 

“You can thank me by actually trying it. How else am I supposed to know I got the shade right?” 

The grin on your face remained as you pulled away. “Okay,” your voice became strangely soft. 

You were about to use your phone screen as a mirror when Senku reached out to grab the lip stain from you. “It has a built-in mirror. Less hassle.” 

You stared at him in awe. “Oh my gosh, you really considered the design of the packaging.” 

He shrugged, handing the lip stain back to you. “The original design was inefficient. You would need a separate mirror each time.” 

He didn't say anything else as he watched you apply it to your lips. A satisfied smile formed on your face, and Senku nearly exhaled in relief. He didn't fail; he succeeded in reviving your favorite lip stain. 

Your eyes shifted to meet his again, your smile refusing to leave your face. “How do I look, Sen?” 

He paused for a second, “The same but with a different shade of lip color.” 

You gasped and hit him playfully. “How rude! You learned cosmetology but not about how to compliment a girl?” 

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Why would I waste my time with the latter?”

You rolled your eyes before admiring the shade with the built-in mirror. “You could at least say I look prettier.” 

“You always do,” he responded too quickly, without any hesitation in the tone of his voice. It was too straightforward, as if he were reciting a fact.

You short-circuit for a few seconds, cheeks burning up slightly as you look away.

“You're really amazing, Sen...” You mumbled, admiring his creation while trying to ignore the warmth from your cheeks.

“Yeah?” A quiet chuckle escaped from him. 

“I've built rockets, and this is what impressed you the most?” He added, a teasing grin on his face. 

“Well, this one is the most unexpected thing you would do, y’know?” 

He shook his head with another chuckle. “You're welcome.” He moved himself using his chair, a hand reaching for a notebook on his desk. “I haven't tested the transfer resistance yet, but it stains better than the original.” 

“Why not?” 

“Do you expect me to wear it?” 

You laughed out loud, “Wouldn't you do it for science?”

“Nice joke.” He deadpanned. “I did it for you, not for science, idiot.” 

Somehow, that confession hit harder than anything else. 

“The Senku Ishigami is doing something that isn't for science? Is the world meeting its doom soon?” you joked mockingly. 

“That's worse than the previous one.” He deadpanned again. 

You giggled, hands reaching out to pull his chair closer to you, a mischievous idea had already appeared in your head just seconds ago. 

“What are you doing?” 

You didn't answer. Instead, you tugged his head down, closer to your face. With a swift motion, you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. 

You pulled away, satisfied with your results. There was a clear mark from the gloss, yet no pigment. The only pigment you found was the burning ears of Senku, dusted with a faint red. 

“Results concluded, it's transfer proof.” You grinned at his frozen state. “You can log the results in your notebook now.” 

A teasing smirk formed on your face as you eyed his silent and flustered figure. “You good, Sen?” 

“Yeah…” he muttered out after snapping out of his frozen state, voice low as he turned away from you to reach for a pen. 

Oh, you were savoring every moment. That was your payback after he made you spiral over his acts of science.

Perhaps the two of you wouldn't talk about it further for now. However, you were—as Senku would say it—10 billion percent sure there's time for that in the future. 

For now, you'll mainly appreciate his acts of science, or his way of showing that he cared far more than you thought. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Bonus:

“Where did you learn how to make cosmetics, Senku-chan?” Gen’s curious question hung in the air, capturing Senku's attention. 

The scene unfolded in front of the two of them, along with Suika and Soyuz, who were gathered around Amaryllis and you. Together, you were meticulously applying makeup on Kohaku’s face in preparation for the selection. 

“It's chemistry, mentalist.” His gaze briefly flickered towards Gen and deadpanned. 

Gen sweat dropped. “Yes, but I never expected you to touch that part of chemistry, Senku-chan…” 

The scientist shrugged, dismissing the comment. And before Gen could question him further, you suddenly walked to Senku with a bright grin on your face. 

“Sen, can you make my lip stain again? I've been missing it lately.” Your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, something Senku could never say no to.

‘Ah.’ Gen's question had been answered the moment the words fell from your lips. The mentalist wasn't even surprised anymore. ‘So this is the so-called acts of science Yuzuriha-chan was talking about.’