#drst x reader

Senku avoids her furious stare, "...me? Scare other guys? I would never, not interested in love." He clears his throat when she leans in to glare at him.

"...well, maybe that one guy from your homeroom and the other two from down the hall..." he trails off as she huffs.

Resting her cheek against the palm of her hand as she stares outside.

"...maybe two boyfriends would be nice.."

Senku chokes at this, looking at her in disbelief.

She looks back at him, grinning mischievously, ruby eyes twinkling, "what? Can't a girl dream? Besides, that will never happen."

Before Senku could say anything else, Taiju barges into the science room, yelling at the top of his lungs.

And soon after, a green light came into view as Taiju was in the middle of confessing to Yuzuriha outside near the big tree.

Everything was dark and quiet, [Name] never once experience a silence this loud, Senku would always talk her ear off and it was strange not hearing him.

She wonders if this was death, she hopes at least Senku is safe before losing consciousness.

Waking up 3700+ years later made your head spin, the clothes were definitely not your style since Senku made them himself.

"...maybe he won't care if I alter them just a little bit..?" You mumbles as you hold the dress up to your naked body, the dress was too long. It goes all the way down past your knees and knowing Senku's plan to revive humanity, moving around in this is gonna be a pain.

After an hour, you finally finish altering the dress but maybe you cut the skirt a bit too short since it kept sliding up everytime you walked. Plus you gave the dress a open slit on the back that goes dangerous low, showing off the skin on your back.

"Oh well." You shrug your shoulders, putting the item you used to cut the dress and walking outside Chrome's hut. "I'm the older one so he has no say in how I dress." Mumbling under your breathe as you reach the ground underneath.

So long story short, from when you were revived, Senku, Kohaku, Kinro were going to enter this fighting thing, not you remember the exact details.....but apparently the winner gets to marry Kohaku's older sister. So she was probably around your age.

Humming to yourself, you wonder if Senku would fight like Kohaku would to make sure you wouldn't have to marry a complete stranger. Shrugging while shaking your head, you continue walking over to everyone else was.

"There's no way you two are siblings." Kohaku says as you sat down next to Kinro who tensed up next to you as you smile at her.

"What makes you think that?"

She stares at you then Senku, "...you don't have crazy hair like him but your eyes are the same color." She points outs.

"I actually inherited our mother's genes more, before they passed, our father would say I looked just like her."

Senku nods at this, continuing to eat his dinner as Suika giggles. "I can totally see that! Senku is the smart sibling and you're the pretty one!"

You laugh at this, "and Suika is the cutest one in the village." Adding to her words.

Soon enough, the fire slowly burnt out and one by one, everyone went their separate ways to end to bed.

Staring up at the stars, you soon realize that it was just you and Kinro still there. He was quiet, a hand on his spare as he looks at the burnt wood in front of you.

"...Kinro, right?" You call out quietly.

He blinks upon hearing his name, "oh, yes. [Name]. Am I saying it right?" Kinro asks as you grin back at him, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Yup! You know you don't have to stay here, my little brother must be making you and your brother work to death so you must be tired."

Kinro stares at you, "...you and Senku might be like Ginro and I, siblings but entirely different personality wise. You're outgoing and positive, he's all about sorcery and smart."

"Science." You correct him.

"...right, science." He corrects himself as he sighs, closing his eyes only to open them to see that you had lean in close to his face, pouting.

"I can be smart too! My little brother might be the next Einstein of this new world but I spent all my life helping him with his projects to not at least be considered smart. I practically soaked up his knowledge."

His face flushes at your proximity, his eyes staring into yours. His lips open slightly, mutters to you—"your eyes, they have a hint of [E/C] in them."

Blinking at this, you look at him surpised before realizing that you were so close to him.

"A-anyways! It's getting late, you're gonna fight in the grand thing or something so you should get some sleep!" You jump to your feet, waving at him frantically before running off to where Senku was sleeping in. He was laying on the floor, luckily he knew how much his own sister would complain about sleeping on the hard surface so he made sure to make some pillows.

"Good night, Senku." You mumbles tiredly

"Night."

And after a good silence just as he was about to dozed off, he heard you mumbles something sleepily.

"....you think Byakuya is okay?"

"Oh my fucking god, do you people not understand what draft is?!"

She groans, rubbing her face in frustration.

"Strongest people- survival of the fittest- You will all die of fucking sepsis! Your muscles aren't worth shit in a primal world! One cut can kill you!".

Thats the one flaw in Tsukasas empire.

It eliminates any intelligent thought.

"Reviving the strongest seems cool and all but oh my god- what's it worth when you'll die of lyme disease!".

Its been a month since her revival and with each day her stress raises more and more.

No soap, no medicine, primal practices, frost bite, while she knows that the kingdom of science is probably thriving with heat and god knows what else, television!

Its bullshit!

Today shes especially pissy.

She checks the temperature of the sick fighter, her brows pulled into a tight knot. He feels warm, warmer than before. Even with the added blankets, tea and shitty clay oven she made in a attempt to keep the cave warm, it isnt helping much.

She adjusts her mask before reaching out to pour him another cup of the mixture, debating in her mind how exactly she'll deal with this, the stolen fragments and the freaky two meter tall kudayari master that doesn't seem to let up.

Hes weird.

Extremely weird.

Sure, she knows hes probably tasked with keeping a eye on her. But still, are those moments where she catches him sitting on some high ground, staring in her direction, random? Duty?

Is that all there is?

Hes a psychopath, she's got to calm down.

She takes the small knife she keeps on her person, beginning to carve the ginger.

Though her thoughts wander again.

Hyoga.... And those boots.

Whats with those thigh high boots?

They're so awfully...

She feels a tingle.

"Aw fuck! Fuck! Fuck it all!"

A yelp leaves her as the knife slips, accidentally kicking her hand.

This is horrible.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuckg ugh! Fucking hell!".

There is blood.

Ofcourse there's blood. It soakes trough her glove.

The fighter beneath her only stares in shock, not moving or talking. For some reason every patient she has is eerily silent. Almost as if they're afraid of her.

Tossing the glove to the side she brings her hand to the light, assessing the damage.

Its red. The skin is damaged. It will scar.

She needs to disinfect it.

"Hey-"

"Fuck!".

The sudden voice makes her shriek and jump, looking back to see who it is.

Her eyes catch the figure of a girl, short brown hair, big eyes... Oh.

"Aye, dont sneak up on a woman like that! I have a weak heart!" and brain and well, everything.

Yuzuriha smiles apologetically, her head tilting "Are you okay? I heard you yell many profanities- oh is that a cut?!".

"Yes.".

She offers the girl a tight smile.

"You're good with a needle right?"

"Uh-"

Thats how they end up in her own cave, the scientist covering her face and biting down on a rag as she urges Yuzuriha to stich her up.

"Do it! Do it!" it comes out muffled, her eyes intense.

"I uhm- this is freaky!"

"We live in a forest! You have to adapt!"

"I never stitched up a wound before!"

"There's a first for everything! Atleast be happy you wont be here when I cauterize it!".

"Eh-!".

Its not like shes in the mood to be stitched up with bad thread and a bone needle but shed rather do that than die of some c level infection.

A sigh leaves her, realizing she should be a bit softer. This girl is like sixteen. She likes to knit. Not... Sew up skin together.

But there's something about her that sends warning alarms through the scientists head. Like shes hiding a big secret that will lead to her doom.

... Then again, she has a knack to be paranoid.

"Okay, listen. I know its scary." she sighs, glancing away "Everything is. But... You need to adapt. We live in this kind of world now. This-" she spits out the taste of the rag, shifting a little to show the wound more properly "Blood, bone, broken skin... Its natural. Only reason why you're scared is because we've been living in a life of comfort. Though... Even back then, in the modern world, not everyone was so lucky to have the privilege of avoiding the sight of death and pain. Think about it- of all the wars and... And..." her face softens "The comfort of ignorance is a privilege. This world- atleast there's... some control. " she stutters, chuckling.

"Sorry. Ive been pissy all week." she shakes her head "It isnt fair on me to take it out on you. You're scared. I get it. But you have to do this alright? You dont want me to die of some low grade infection right?".

"I... Yeah.".

Yuzuriha glances down before grabbing the needle more firmly. It seems like shes deep in thought.

Suddenly theres a prick.

And pain.

"Ah fuck!"

After a few minutes of screaming into the rug and hitting the stone floor shes finished. The scientist was so loud during it that even Yo came to check what the hell was going on.

Ran away on sight.

She stands over the fire, trying to gain the courage to put her hand into the flames. The two sit in silence, a somber atmosphere taking ahold.

"... You're a scientist but you agree with Tsukasas idea of the world right? Why?" Yuzuriha asks, staring at her.

She glances back, shrugging "Why shouldn't I? Sure... Its a bit upside down. Progress isnt inherently evil but I would honestly kill myself if I had to live in the modern world again." she sighs, rolling her eyes "And me being a scientist doesn't mean im a capitalistic scum. Science had suffered greatly due to the greed of the rich. Think about how many inventions could've helped the common people but were basically unaccessible due to the pricing or the priorities of the upper class. I mean, i remember when-" she pauses.

This...

It isnt right.

She isnt supposed to be telling her this.

This is wrong.

A sudden pang hits her chest. A instinct.

She has to choose her words carefully now.

"... You should go. You don't want to see what happens next. ".

Yuzurihas expression changes a little, a flicker of disappointment and fear striking. Then she nods, exiting the small cave.

The scientist shifts, looking back at the fire.

Its dark out, probably near midnight. She'd guess atleast. No use of making a clock in this world.

Everything is strange.

The fragments missing... The hushes and whispers about the kingdom of science. Isn't Yuzuriha one of the first scientists friends? First scientist- thats how she calls him considering no one actually said his name.

He has a grave...

Maybe she should go visit sometime.

She sighs, glancing at the ceiling of the cave.

Does she fully align with Tsukasas world view? Maybe.

Only problem she has is that its inherently fascistic. Choosing who lives, who dies on some idiotic criteria...

There's no real need to destroy the statues.

Thats just a power trip.

Plus- he could get cut from doing it!

And die of sepsis!

"Are you planning to cauterize that anytime soon?"

Her heart skips a beat and she turns suddenly, her eyes widening.

"Hyoga? The hell you doing here?".

Her brows furrow at the one detail she notices immediately.

No kudayari.

"Helping a idiot.".

She barely registers it when he moves towards her and literally shoves her arm into the fire. She yells but her mouth is clamped shut, her eyes growing wide and teary.

Whats worse?

His body is close to hers.

Too close.

She can feel the warmth of his breath through his mask.

He keeps a firm grip on her until the wound is properly closed up, only pushing her off to the side. She pants, her heart beating out of her chest.

Hell shes shaking.

All that it earns her is a sadistic chuckle from the man above.

"I thought everyone should adapt?"

She grits her jaw at his condescending tone.

His fingers brush the length of a tape. It’s dated the day after his ninth birthday; he remembers it distinctly. He doesn’t need to watch the video. But he blows the dust off, grimacing at the residue on the tips of his fingers, and slips it into the slot and waits.

Abruptly, the tv lights up. Byakuya is grinning into the camera like a madman, hair tousled all about, giggling like an idiot.

The camera turns around, showcasing his bedroom door cracked open just the slightest, and when Byakuya pushes the door open, you're cuddled into his chest with his arm draped around you, chests rising and falling in sync.

When he woke up and found out, Senku had droned on about privacy and threatened to sue Byakuya— all while his cheeks burned a bright red hue.

The tape gets swapped with another, then another, until Senku’s left with tapes strewn about from him tossing them aside.

He wasn’t supposed to watch them. He wasn’t supposed to think of you, see you, or hear you.

He wanted to get rid of you. To rid himself of the tightening in his chest when he hears your name, the churning in his stomach whenever you’re in the same room as him.

Senku wanted to stop feeling anything towards you.

But he can’t.

With crossed arms, you take a seat on his bed beside him, staring at the floor. “Why me?”

“I just told you, because we’re not strangers. We love each other, don’t we?”

“No, Stanley.” You shake your head, lifting your eyes to his, clutching your bicep a little tighter when you see the panic in his eyes. “Why me?”

He takes a moment to respond, not to collect his thoughts and come up with a reason, but to give himself time. Time to prepare, to let go of the secret he’s kept well hidden under his facade. “Because I can’t imagine it being anyone else but you.” He lifts his eyes to meet yours, fingers twitching on his lap as if he were restraining himself from reaching out to you. “I don’t want anyone but you.” 

It’s not a lot, but it’s enough.

—

We won’t be awkward. He’d said, but Stanley is frozen in his place as he watches you inch towards his headboard. Even when you gesture him forward, to meet you in the middle, he stays rooted in place at the foot of the bed, standing like an idiot. 

With a sigh, you scoot back to him, taking his hands carefully and placing them at your waist. You keep your eyes on his as his fingers clutch the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it past your head. His eyes shoot down for a split second, then they come right back to yours with a soft sigh. 

When it’s his turn, his breath stutters, your fingers pause briefly, his shirt pulled up halfway, before he nods his head and shuts his eyes while you pull it off completely. 

“We can go slow, or we can go fast.” You say quietly, tracing shapes mindlessly against his skin. “Whatever you want, Stanley, I’m okay with.” 

He only nods, placing a hand at your waist and the other on the back of your neck. Slowly, he lowers you down to the bed, gulping as he takes in the way you look under him– on his bed, naked. 

“I’ve never–”

“I know.” Your voice is soft, the way you look at him is soft, your skin, your eyes, you. “I know you a lot better than you think, Stanley.” As your fingers tangle in his hair, he dips his head down slowly, brushing his lips against yours to test the waters, before he presses onto you without hesitation. 

He pulls back the second he feels like he can’t breathe, lips shiny from your tongue, wet as he immediately makes a line of kisses down your jaw to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, relishing in the feeling of your fingers digging into his skin, repeating his actions just to hear you make that sweet sound again. 

Stanley pulls back a second time to see what he’s done, reveling at the sight of the deep colored mark on your skin– captivated by it so much that something stirs inside him. He turns his head to the side, offering his neck quietly in hopes you get his message. 

I did it to you, now you do it to me. 

Your lips latch onto his neck, a strangled sound rising out of his throat as you bite carelessly into his skin. His arms nearly give way when your hips lift to meet his, one hand flying down to your waist hastily to keep you at bay, as if the action alone was enough to push him over to the other side. 

“Impatient, are we?” 

A breathy chuckle falls past your lips and onto his skin, “Shut up.” 

Despite the calm tone in his voice, his fingers tremble as they travel down your stomach. He keeps his eyes on you, forehead pressed against yours, trying hard to ignore the tightness in his chest when his fingers press into you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, a choked-back noise falling past, and your fingers dig into Stanley's skin hard enough to leave a mark. 

“You alright?” He asks, gentle, like the kiss he presses against your forehead in hopes of soothing you. 

“Yeah,” You nod, easing up on your grip. “Just feels weird.” He inches his fingers a little deeper, watching your hips lift again, then flits his eyes back to you for any word. “Keep going, I’m alright.” 

Stanley tries to hold back, but the sounds you're making, the way your body is curving into his, cloud his head, his judgment, and his senses. His pace is unforgiving, fast but somehow still gentle, with his lips glued to yours, swallowing every sound you make. 

He pauses his movements when your hands tap his shoulder, your hips are still rocking against his fingers– barely– face twisted with pleasure. “You’re doing so well.” He whispers, swallowing dryly when your movements quicken at his praise. “You sound so pretty, sweetheart.”

He drops his head down to your neck when his name comes out of you with a whimper, he kisses mindlessly, breath hot against your skin. You haven’t even touched him properly yet, and he’s already losing his mind.

When your hips no longer lift, he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, kissing your cheek when you hiss at the loss of contact. He holds them awkwardly at his side, propping himself up with one hand beside your head. 

“You want some water?” He asks hesitantly, grabbing the bottle off his desk when you nod. He looks at anything but you while you sip, jolting when you press the cold bottle against his chest. “Rude.” He takes it from your hold, tossing back a long sip before returning it to its place. 

“You have condoms?” You ask, already moving to rummage in his nightstand, cheering in triumph when you find the box. 

He stutters when you draw him close, tearing the condom open carefully. “Don’t you need to like– I don’t know, rest? You’re not sensitive?” 

“We’ll go slow this time. This is different than just fingers.” His eyes trace over you carefully before nodding, holding his breath when you slip the condom onto him, and hiding his face when his hips buck involuntarily. “Do you want me to…?” You trail off mid-sentence, but Stanley understood you completely. 

He nods, at first hesitantly, but when you don’t make any moves and just stare at him, he nods again, firmer. “Please.” He sighs, hiding his face again.

The moment your lips wrap around him, his heart nearly seizes in his chest. His hips stutter, and he’s sure that if you weren’t holding them, he’d have bucked right into your throat without warning. 

Someone once told him sex didn’t feel as good when wearing a condom, he wonders if that person was lying to his face– because this feels just like heaven. 

Stanley doesn’t bite back his moan when you take him in fully, doesn’t shy away when your eyes lift to meet his; he stares back with flushed cheeks and pinched brows– something about that tells you he’s already close. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, grabbing a fistful to tug experimentally, something a friend of his had mentioned once: ‘It feels good in the moment,’ or something like that. His teeth sink into his lips when that draws out a moan from you, breath catching when the vibrations go straight through him. 

“If you do that again, I won’t last another minute, seriously.” He says shakily.

You pull off him briefly, licking your lips at his tuckered-out face. “Good.”

Your hand moves at the same relentless pace he’d shown you earlier, not letting up even when he nearly falls over from how good it felt. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” You whispered against his skin after his body had curled down to yours. His hands grip your shoulders subconsciously, half needing something to ground himself to, half just wanting to touch you. 

He nods into your shoulder, stuttering out a broken plea, over and over again until his whole body shudders, and he’s filling the condom full. 

“Such a mess, pretty boy.” 

Stanley drags a hand down his face, still struggling to catch his breath. “Shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me?” His head lifts at the challenge, eyes darting to your hand as you carefully slip the spent rubber off of him and replace it with a new one. “Comfortable yet, Stan?” 

He pushes you down with a little more force than he means to, but when your body lifts from the bed to grind against his, he figures you would be alright with him not holding back anymore. 

———

Stanley has four days left before he leaves. 

He ignores you for the first two, an immature solution to keep his overflowing emotions at bay. But he still texts you to reassure you (and himself) that he doesn’t regret the other night, that he’s just sorting things out at home, and that he’ll see you soon. 

On his last night before deployment, Stanley finds himself sitting with you in his backyard, staring mindlessly as his dog chases fireflies out of the bushes. 

“Will you miss me?”

He knows it was a simple question; one where you’re not looking for an honest answer, just something sarcastic, an answer that was one hundred percent him. But it still hits him in a place he never imagined would hurt as much as it did. It sinks in slowly, present, like watching a doctor inject something into you. 

“Yeah,” he swallows thickly on the words aching to come out. “I guess.”

A weak laugh fills the silent air around you, forced, almost as if you felt the same way as he did. “I guess I’ll miss you too.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He says, whether to assure you or himself, he didn’t know. You can only muster up a nod in response, Stanley tries to ignore the sight of tears brimming in your eyes, and starts talking to you like it’s just another day. 

As if he wasn’t leaving you behind. 

—

Stanley’s been gone for three months. It’s short, a summer's worth, but it felt like forever. 

He’s still the same, with shorter hair and a stance that feels more rigid than composed, as if he wasn’t convinced he was as hardened as others thought. 

There’s less than a week before he has to leave again, he doesn’t know how long this time, a month or a year– maybe even longer– and Stanley’s feet carry him to the one place he’s been dreaming of since he set foot off the base. 

The door to your house mocks him as he lifts his fist to knock, breath caught in his throat because he isn’t prepared for what, or who, he’ll see on the other side of the door. 

But it opens before he can rap his knuckles against the cold steel, you’re in the middle of laughing at something someone inside says, utterly unaware that he was right in front of you. 

And then you bump into his chest with everything but grace, cursing under your breath at the, quote, brick wall you’ve just collided with. Your hand is on his chest, whether you knew it or not, and your eyes haven’t quite met his yet. 

“Missed me?” He asks softly, almost afraid of what you’ll answer with, nearly bashful about wanting to hear you say yes. 

“Stanley.” When your eyes meet his, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling too widely. Only offering half a smirk to maintain his cool image. “You didn’t–” a laugh of disbelief slips past before your fist hits his chest playfully. “You didn’t tell me you’d be home!” 

When your arms wrap around him, Stanley feels like he’s reached heaven. Melting into your embrace unashamedly, holding you tightly against his body until you pulled away. 

“Look at you,” you huff, eyes slowly tracing his figure. “Only three months, and you’ve gone through a second puberty.” 

He scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just muscle gain.” You respond with a shrug, watching as his eyes travel across you without a care, narrowing your own when he hums. “You’re just as pretty as the day I left.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“So be it,” he shrugs, slipping his hand into yours. “As long as it means I’m yours.” 

“Oh, wow.” You whistled, tugging lightly to bring him closer to you. “Did they teach you that in your training camp? How to woo someone with precision?” 

He hums, nodding his head. “Part of the manipulation tactics of war. Pretty interesting stuff.” A laugh breaks out when you shove him away from you, only for him to bring you back in even closer from behind. “I’m kiddin', sweetheart. You know that.” 

“Course I do,” a light kiss to his cheek makes his grip on you falter, just enough to let you turn in his hold. “I just like seeing you chase.” 

“Well, I’ll keep running after you my whole life if it means I get to hold you like this every time.”

—

Before you can get used to him, Stanley tells you he’s leaving again in a week. It’s quick, mumbled blearily into your hair as he awakes from slumber, and it pierces through your heart fast like an arrow. 

You try to pull away before he can take in too much of you. 

Yet, you still indulge in his every desire. You go to the street fair with him, you accept the ugly stuffed duck he wins for you, and you take a bite out of the nastiest fried food you’ve ever had when he holds it up to your lips. You do everything you said you wouldn’t do because he asks. 

Because this is Stanley’s last bit of freedom and pleasure before he’s off to board a Naval ship to god knows where for months, maybe years. A place where he couldn’t coax an employee to let him toss a few more rings on bottles to win his date a prize, a limited area where the closest thing to leisure was quiet hours when you weren’t on watch. 

You still have him for three days, but you tell him you miss him anyway.

“I’m right beside you, sweetheart.” He says with a laugh, but you can feel how heavy it is.

“I know,” he pulls you closer. “It just feels different when you don’t know how long you’ll be gone.” 

Stanley tries to make it up to you the next morning. Though it was executed poorly because he’s just given you a taste of waking to an empty, cold bed. 

He walks in with a tray, kicking his bedroom door shut before the dog can waltz in and demand a bite. Two plates, one undoubtedly his by the odd colored pancakes compared to yours– protein-rich, he tells you, they taste horrible from what you can remember. 

He talks to you in a hushed voice, for what reason you can’t decipher. Brings his fork to your lips so you can try a bite of his pancake, and holds a napkin to your lips when you make a face of disgust. 

It’s too domestic, even for you. 

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” 

Stanley sighs, not in annoyance, but in a way that feels like he’d just been handed the weight of the world. “Depends on where I end up. Could be months, could be years.” You only nod in response, moving the berries on your plate around. “You’ll still be here when I come back, won’t you?”

“I don’t want to wait around and wonder when you’ll be home, Stanley.” 

He shakes his head, “That’s not– I meant, will you still love me, even when I’m away?”

“I’ll love you for as long as I can.” 

It’s not the answer he hoped for, not a promised forever, but he accepts it anyway. 

—

Stanley spends the next day with his parents. He gets out of bed at seven in the morning despite your reluctance to let him go because his Ma wants him to come to church, and he’d rather let you sleep than drag you with him to listen to the pastor drone on about things he couldn't care less about. 

He runs deliveries with Pa, behind the wheel instead of nestled in the passenger's seat like before. Makes small talk with the customers and drinks nine full glasses of water before the sun fully rises because he couldn’t say no to the people who are kind enough to support his parents' farm. 

His phone dings as he waits for Pa to come out of the gas station bathroom, tugging it out of his pocket and flipping it open to see a text from you. 

Just had to fight Polly for the last slice of pie.

He laughs as the sight of you fighting a golden retriever over pie flashes in his mind, typing out his response as fast as the, quote, ancient, flip phone allowed him to. 

She’s an old girl. Let her win sometimes, would you?

He gets sent a frowny face in return, just as Pa wrestles the truck door open with that obnoxious knowing look on his face. “Are ya texting your sweetheart?” Stanley sighs in faux annoyance at his teasing, but nods his head regardless. “I remember when your Ma and I were like that.” 

“How did you and Ma handle being away from each other so long?” 

One look at his face, and he’s sure his Pa has him all figured out. “Oh, son,” he laughs, not in a mocking way, but in understanding because he’s been in Stanley’s place before, because he knows why he’s even asking. “It’s gonna hurt like hell, but it’ll be worth it in the end.” 

He starts driving home after Pa’s seatbelt clicks, radio static filling his ears. It’s quiet, but it’s too much. 

It startles him, the stray tear that cascades down his cheek. He tries to wipe it before his Pa can see it, but his hand reaches up to his face before Stanley’s can. “It’s alright, son.” 

Stanley tries to accept the possibility that maybe you won’t love him for as long as he will, but he can’t. 

—

He doesn’t tell you he cried at the thought of you no longer loving him. You don’t question the red under his eyes or the tight-lipped smile he gives you before he brushes past you to shower. 

His parents don’t stay for long, calling out from downstairs to tell you they’re going dancing —to relive their youth, they’d said. They aren’t that old, but you don’t argue with their reasoning. 

When the door clicks shut, you walk to the bathroom, knocking softly against the wooden door until Stanley replies with a loud ‘huh?’ 

“Can I come in?” 

A beat passes. “I’m showering.”

“I’m aware.” 

Another beat. “Alright then.” 

You twist the door open and find Stanley’s head popped out from behind the curtain, hair slicked back. “Hi.” You greet, as if he isn’t naked behind that curtain, as if this were something normal. 

“Did you want to join me or something?” 

“If that’s alright with you.” 

Stanley meant it as a joke. 

But now you’re standing with him under the stream of water, diligently working shampoo through his hair while his hands are wrapped around you in fear of you getting cold. It should feel suffocating, he thinks. But it’s so sweet that Stanley feels a cavity form at the thought of doing this with you again. 

He leaves tomorrow. 

The joke is on his tongue. The same one he said to you before he left for boot camp, the same one that ended up with you being tangled in his sheets, sharing a warmth that only came from two people who loved each other. 

He doesn’t say it. 

Arguably, against the words of a lot of his squadmates and friends, this was a lot better than sex. 

The feeling of your fingers carding through his hair, massaging shampoo into his hair, and washing it out with that same care. Your hands running along his shoulders to wash away soap, the laughter that follows when you reach that area, and your hands freeze in midair just before you could touch him. 

“You take such good care of me.” He whispers, faint, almost unheard. 

“Only because I love you.” You respond, sighing at the feeling of his thumb rubbing circles over your skin. 

He doesn’t say it back, not just yet. 

——

You try to leave Stanley before he can leave you. 

It’s the break of dawn, and he’s begging you not to leave. 

“You should spend the rest of your time with your parents.” You try to tell him, but his only rebuttal is that he’s spent his whole life with them already. He holds you close, grip loose enough for you to escape, just in case you truly wanted to leave him so early. 

Your body relaxes— melts, practically— into his arms. You curse yourself for giving in to him so easily, but don’t make any effort to leave a second time. 

Stanley holds you tighter. You feel like you can’t breathe. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

It comes out quick, a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear. Stanley doesn’t say anything at first, not that you expect him to.

“Don’t,” he sighs, nudging his head against yours. “Don’t say things like that.” You can hear it, despite his effort to muffle it; the slight tremor in his voice, the heartache that he tried to push down. “I might actually stay.” 

Your hold on him gets tighter. Stanley feels like he can’t breathe. 

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing between two friends who loved each other a little more than anyone else. A parting gift– something fun. 

He wasn’t supposed to fall deeper in love. You weren’t supposed to let him any closer. 

“You know,” you start quietly, loosening your grip slightly. “When you first left, I tried to hate you.” Stanley hums in acknowledgement and lets you continue. “For how you left– our goodbye, I mean—”

“I didn’t like how we left things.” You admit, “That we had sex and said those half-hearted goodbyes that probably meant everything back then.” Then with a scoff, “I didn’t even say I love you back, Stanley.”

“It’s not like that this time, is it?” He asks, staring at your back when you move to sit up. He watches you shake your head, as you try to hide the tears behind your hand, while your shaking shoulders betray you. 

“I love you.” He says, “I’ll love you when I’m away, and love you more when I get back.” Your eyes are hidden, but you can hear Stanley moving to sit in front of you. “And even if you find someone else when I’m away,” he grabs your hands gently, moving them away from your face and to his lap. “I’ll still love you.”

“You don’t mean that.” 

Stanley, with the nerve, chuckles at your doubt. “I do. Have I ever lied to you?” 

You want to throw a rebuttal, but you can’t because no, he hasn’t. 

“I’m sorry I said I wouldn’t wait for you.” At your apology, his posture straightens slightly– almost unnoticeable. “I didn’t mean it, I was just upset.”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain to me.” He assures, smiling softly. “I’m sure I would’ve said the same.” It’s not a total lie, despite his composure and level-headedness (his words), Stanley was just like everyone else; someone who spoke before thinking in the heat of the moment.

“Does that mean you’ll wait for me?” 

The room feels smaller than before at his question, too abrupt, too expected. He doesn’t look at you, almost like he knows how you’ll answer, as if he knew you wouldn’t.

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.” 

Chrome and Suika are on the herb collecting crusade courtesy of Senku sending them to get you some sweet flag for your much needed caffeine dose. You, Kohaku, and Senku all gathered near the fire, patiently waiting for the fish to finish grilling along with some king oyster mushrooms you and Suika foraged while Kohaku was off fishing. Kohaku and you are almost done with preparing breakfast when you finally spot Reina near the bridge. She lost the cape and looks a tad bit disheveled, with sleep still clinging to the corners of her eyes. She watches all of you, a tad bit uncertain once more. Sharing a look with Kohaku, you shrug and let Reina be.

The water for the tea is done boiling, and you pour it into the clay teapot to steep, disregarding her presence so Reina can continue with things at her own pace. After a couple of drawn-out moments, she takes a seat on the log near you, quietly greeting everyone and receives a mismatched chime of greetings back. Some are more enthusiastic than others, but you and Senku are kind of running on empty and won’t survive the day without your favorite proto-energy-drink sweet flag concoction. You are more than sure it’s obvious that something happened tonight, but nobody is tactless enough to bring it up and neither you nor Senku are about to start airing your own private lives to clear the air. It will pass, you just need Chrome to hurry the hell up with those herbs.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Reina says as Kohaku offers her the first bite. The mackerel is piping hot and still sizzling on the stick, but it’s evident Reina is already enjoying herself way more now that there are some other food options available. Not for long though, she doesn’t know she’s up for nothing by foxtail millet noodles, seafood, mushrooms, and dubious pickles courtesy of yours truly for the rest of the cold months of the year till you rediscover better ways of preservation.

“You people never learn,” Kohaku deadpans, oddly reminiscent of that time when she warned you about being overworked to death by Senku’s mad ideas.

“I hope you know he’s going to work you into the grave now,” you chime in, quoting the infamous warning you received on the morning after your hasty escape. Catching Kohaku’s gaze from across the fire, neither of you can hold a straight face for too long as you start laughing. Nobody but the two of you finds your line hilarious, unfortunately. Reina isn’t in on the joke and Senku is too busy scarfing down his breakfast like it’s about to be taken from him.

“Hell yeah, I am,” Senku croaks out while almost choking on a stray fish bone. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins at Reina, although the bags under his eyes are weighing his uplifted mood down by quite a bit. “Welcome to the right side of history, Otonari Reina.”

You can almost see Reina forcing herself not to roll her eyes. She just nods, muttering a sarcastic word of gratitude and then resumes with picking at her fish. You guess she’s not really used to such loud mornings, at such an early time, too, but Reina really needs to brace herself for it to get about ten times louder with Chrome and Ginro around. She needs to invest in a lot of patience and some restraint, as well. There’s only so much beating Ginro can take before he falls apart, and Kohaku is already doing her absolute best at keeping him roughed up.

“Yo, everyone! We’re back,” Chrome calls out, turning all the attention back to him and Suika. The woven basket they left with is full of random greens, so you guess that’s the reason they took longer than intended. He drops it in front of you, proudly showcasing his latest find. “Check this baad thing out, [Name].”

It looks like they have been paying attention to your botany tangents. Apart from the sweet flag and mint you were asking for, there are a lot of water spinach, watercress, and Japanese knotweed stuffed inside the basket. All not only perfectly edible but also having some medicinal properties as well. There’s a bunch of water chestnuts lying at the very bottom as well, and despite them being edible when cooked properly, you really hope neither of them tried eating those raw; the last thing you need is treating Chrome and Suika from fasciolopsiasis. It’s harmless on its own, thankfully, but you still need to warn them not to try those without a thorough bake just in case.

“Nice one, Chrome,” you say, going for a congratulatory fist bump.

“Is that water hemlock?” Senku’s question catches you by surprise, and you drop your hand down, searching for the plant in question amongst the random greenery Chrome and Suika brought with them. Then you spot what is potentially a bunch of seri plants, and you are suddenly far less excited than you were just a second ago. “Are you trying to kill us, Chrome?”

You want to laugh it off and say that Senku is exaggerating but he’s not. If ingested, water hemlock root can cause poisoning so severe that some harmless vomiting can escalate straight into seizures, respiratory paralysis and then death. All of your favorite fun things. Chrome must have confused water hemlock with the water dropwart, which is a popular edible plant throughout East Asia, with a lot of ways to cook it. Luckily for you yet unfortunately for Chrome, it is a part of a family known to have a lot of similar-looking and extremely toxic plants. It’s a common mistake to confuse those, but it’s also your fault for not properly warning the two to not collect it without you around to explain the difference in real life.

You take the plant in your hand, spending your sweet time examining the stem and the root to make sure it’s actual water dropwart and not one of several extremely poisonous lookalikes. Senku leans over your shoulder to take a closer look at it as well, humming a vacant ‘never mind’ when he notices that it’s not, in fact, water hemlock. No poison for you today, but it sure is edible. You squish the stem of the plant and sniff it, the parsley-like scent filling your senses, then lick your fingers clean of any herbal juice just to give Chrome a little scare.

“It’s seri, but be careful with this next time, okay?” You show Chrome and Suika the water dropwart stem, explaining the differences in smell and making sure they remember the key distinctions between the stem of this plant and that of its toxic counterpart. “Don’t go judging by leaves alone anymore. There are many poisonous plants that look almost exactly like this one. You don’t want to eat those, trust me.”

Despite your harmless fearmongering receiving the expected reaction from Chrome, he doesn’t particularly mind it nowadays. He is getting better at telling whether you are joking or being serious about the dangers of the wild, so he nods sternly, one quick glance thrown to water dropwart before he beckons Suika to come closer. Her travel backpack is also full, you realize then. They sure took a detour, but both of them look so proud of themselves, you can’t even stay mad at them for wasting their energy.

“We saved the best for last, trust.” Chrome’s promise sure is enticing. although Suika seems a little unsure, tugging at the straps of her backpack shily, and it makes everyone even more curious. “Cmon, Suika, show her what you found.”

The girl is quick to take her backpack off, opening the lid to showcase a bunch of lotus roots. “Suika saw it in the journal before. It’s edible, right?”

You grin; your efforts are finally starting to pay off, it looks like. You never mentioned those are edible, she read it. If it’s not an achievement, then you don’t know what is. “Yeah, and it’s delicious. Thanks, Suika-chan.”

She beams at you, running off to find her spot next to Kohaku and promptly remove her helmet as the older girl all but stuffs the grilled fish in her hands the second Suika takes a seat. Chrome settles too, although not for long, as he spots Reina sitting next to you, nursing a cup of tea. “It’s you!” You have no idea how he only just noticed her, but Chrome’s one-track mind needs to be studied along with Senku, so you accept it as a given and move on. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist our baaad science, Reina.”

Reina seems to be still a little unsettled by the odd dynamic you have established here, but you guess it’s only fair. You, too, felt out of place at the beginning. You still do, to a certain extent, especially when you have a hard time finding a useful niche to settle on. There isn’t a discipline you are good at that Senku can’t fill in just as easily and you don’t want to lie by saying it doesn’t bother you. It does, and you are still jealous, but Senku just dumps certain things on you expecting everything to be done without him needing to worry about it, so you guess he doesn’t mind you stealing the spotlight once in a while.

Ishigami Senku is annoying, you despise him. That’s why when you leave the bonfire to mix the energy drink for the two of you, you make it thrice as potent and put no honey in it. Not because that’s how he likes it, but because you are leaving it all up to fate by letting the natural caffeine kill him. Tsukasa should have tried recruiting you as an assassin, even if the odds of you actually murdering someone are in the negatives.

When you return everyone is already done with their tea and Reina throws a quick, suspicious glance at the bottles in your hands. You shrug, passing one of them to Senku and chugging half of yours in one go. Kohaku makes a passing comment about the two of you being obsessed and neither of you denies it, which just earns you another confused glance from Reina. This dose of caffeine, as insignificant as it is for someone who spent half their conscious life downing energy drinks and americanos, is the only thing that the two of you look forward to in the morning. If anything, Kohaku should join you in doping herself, she needs a lot of energy for all that iron collecting.

Reina clears her throat, thumb scraping over the imperfections of the ceramic cup. “So what’s on the agenda?”

Senku finishes the rest of his energy drink and stuffs his pinky finger in his ear. “We’re speedrunning the iron age.”

Chrome blinks, a little puzzled tilt of his head. “Wait, I thought we were there already?”

You click your tongue disapprovingly, setting your bottle aside and picking up Senku’s as well so you can return them back to the storehouse. “That was a free trial for Ruri’s sake.”

Kohaku shakes her head with a groan, a vacant tone of her voice adding to her blank expression. “You just totally lost us.”

While Reina is trying to help Chrome and Suika to figure out what exactly ‘free trial’ is you ask Kohaku to get you a pair of sandals. The two of you set off to drop by her hut, greeting Kokuyo and Jasper by the bridge and informing them of today’s grueling schedule. It’s going to be infinitely easier to collect iron sand with this many people to back you up but it’s still a long and taxing process, so you make sure at least a couple of people stay behind to prepare and bring you lunch over to the river.

The stone geta are rather terrible shoes to wear and you can already feel just how much of a skin rubbing nuisance the rope straps are going to be, but it’s better than walking barefoot. You’ll figure something out for when the winter inevitably comes to bite you in the ass, but it’s a bridge you will not be crossing any time soon, thankfully.

When you return back to the lab, everyone is already ready and Senku is in the middle of his short lesson on magnets. Not only that, but Kinro is also here, bleeding through his bandages and with less than willing Ginro who’s still half asleep and barely standing straight hovering next to him. You chase Kinro down to his family’s home, finally having the chance to test that laudanum out by mixing a less-than-necessary dose in his tea and forcing it down his throat. And Ginro is so terrified of getting knocked out by your concoctions, he suddenly finds it in him to be very much awake and willing to work. Which is just great, really.

Senku gives you a puzzlingly smug side-eye when he notices your new footwear, asking if you are actually planning to crawl around the river wearing those but all you offer him is an impassive shrug. You know how to get rid of back pain, not how to grow back toes. You aren’t a lizard and you don’t think petrification just magically regrows limbs. Realizing he’s not going to win this one, Senku drops the teasing and wraps up the lecture.

The rest of the day goes without much trouble. The water is not too cold now that the sun is out in full swing to fry you with its last autumn heat, and you allow yourself a couple of breaks when the girls you asked to stay behind bring you lunch and then dinner. There’s more than enough iron sand, but a good chunk of the river is now stripped bare and it’s painfully obvious that you need to discover an actual mine sooner rather than later. Thank God Chrome exists, considering his vast rock collection you are more than sure he knows some good caves you can exploit later down the line.

The next morning Kohaku shows up with Reina tailing behind her. Kinro is back again, far less pale than he was yesterday, so you decide he’s good to go but only if he’s contributing to some non-taxing labor and not hauling carts of sand like he is clearly planning to. You are particularly useless not only during the iron making process, but also during the actual forging so you decide not to get in the way and find something useful to busy yourself with.

Reina seems to be feeling just as jobless as you are, conversing with Suika quietly, seemingly deep in thought, while absentmindedly drawing something on the ground with a stick. You take it as a prime opportunity to steal those two for your own nefarious plans, so you link arms with Reina and wave your hand so Suika can follow as you try to quietly escape the unpaid labor camp.

Hopefully the three of you can find something edible to go as a dessert for today’s dinner. Everyone is working hard and you want the villagers to know that their contribution does not go unappreciated, despite Senku never actually admitting to feeling grateful. Relatively fancy meals are all you can offer them, so you hope to gather some berries to make quick jam and finally put Suika’s goldmine of lotus roots to good use.

“We’re making jam today,” you announce, pulling out your journal to check if you wrote down the recipe or not. You spent a lot of alcohol on making sugar, but it should be just about enough for a decent batch of fresh jam or confit. Maybe you can even use that foxtail millet flour to make prehistoric pancakes. They taste wrong for your modern taste buds but nobody from Ishigami village will notice the difference.

Not unlike Gen, Reina can’t quite believe you are involving her in your antics already. “We?”

“Yes, we,” you deadpan, lifting your eyes from the pages of the diary and pointing at yourself then Suika, and finally at Reina. Then you make a half-turn, directing them to look at the villagers, hard at work with melting the iron sand. “Everyone needs a little moral boost once in a while.”

You are all up for slacking, that is quite literally what you are doing right now. You could have been helping around with loading the sand crates, but instead you are hiding in the shadows of Chrome’s storehouse, so the evil overlord of science won’t find you. It’s better to frolic around the forest than break your back while trying to keep the heat in the furnace consistent. Kinro is forbidden from being chained to the dynamo, so that spot is free for anyone who wants it and it sure as hell won’t be you. Neither will it be Reina if you have anything to say about it, she should be grateful for you saving her, really. Even if you just rope her into some other type of labor, albeit less physically exhausting.

“We are going to look for autumn olives, or maybe hawthorn if we’re lucky,” you explain, turning the journal around to make sure Reina and Suika can see what you’re talking about. You spent an egregious amount of your free time drawing those plants and you are a twinge too proud of your work to not brag about it just a little bit. “The last of wineberries and wild strawberries should still be there, too.”

Reina doesn’t look particularly amused by the prospects of spending all her free time around the forest but Suika’s eyes light up when she spots the strawberry bushes, so you guess she knows where exactly those are. Easier for you, maybe you will be done faster than you expect, and this leaves you with a lot of time to find what you are most interested in. Which is rowan. Any edible plants that are also poisonous is always a great find, and you are a tad bit too excited to add those to your collection.

“Maybe we can find some mountain ash fruits, as well,” you continue, trying to sound impassive, although with the way Reina’s eyebrow lifts the second you mention the rowan bushes it’s obvious she can finally see some of your ulterior motives. Damn that excitable face of yours. “They’re stuffed with parasorbic acid and are toxic when eaten raw, but it’s going to be fine if we freeze or cook them.”

Reina doesn’t particularly mind that you are exploiting her for your own personal gain as well, thankfully. The last thing you want is for her to get the wrong impression. You are not inherently selfish; it’s just an added bonus and if you don’t find any mountain ash you won’t be disheartened. Your intention is to slack off in a way that is beneficial to the rest of the community, first and foremost. But you actually need to escape your employer for that to happen.

“Okay, we get it,” Reina interrupts your tangent with a sigh, rubbing her temple lethargically. “Let’s just go before we get caught.”

Assigning Suika as the leader of your recon squad, you let her lead you down the path to the forest as inconspicuously as possible. Your journey doesn’t last long, however. You make no more than five steps outside the shadows of the storehouse before you are met face to face with Senku. He’s visibly irritated, soot smudged all over his left cheek where the stray strand of his hair keeps getting in the way. So much for slacking off.

“I don’t remember saying we can take five,” he grumbles, pointing an accusatory finger at the three of you.

You roll your eyes, exponentially more annoyed with yourself now that you have to admit that you are not, in fact, slacking off, but simply on a side quest of your own. You can’t even pretend to not care, Senku really likes being the face of make-believe nonchalance around these parts. He better be ready to fight for his spot, however, if he wants to keep Gen around for a bit longer. And you want Gen around, as much as it pains you to admit it, so Senku needs to step up his game.

“We kind of have plans here, you know,” you huff, sharp canines digging into the flesh of your cheek as you pass him your journal.

Senku flips around the pages, smudging the corners of some of them with his charcoal-stained fingers, until he gets to your grandiose plan of Pavlovian conditioning the hell out of the villagers by feeding them some more sugar after a hard day of work. At first glance it might seem pointless since everyone is already giving it their all without any incentive, but you like investing in the future. Especially with Magma and his seven dwarves of inbreeding roaming around. They work well and they get rewarded. And if they put twice as much effort, maybe they will get a better reward. They will never know until they try. And you know a couple of gluttons who will do just about anything for some prehistoric jam and pancakes.

Senku’s eyes lit up recognition and he cackles evilly, which is just the reaction you expected, really. “Ah, some good old bribery. Nice one, [Name].” Senku grins wickedly, teeth and all. “Sure, go ahead and cook it up, I don’t mind,” he says, returning the journal to you. Cool, glad to know you get another Senku stamp of approval. And as much as you are glad that Senku supports your dubious schemes fully, you opinion that that hasn’t changed. You still don’t think you need his permission to be doing any of that. “You are coming with me, though. They can handle this without getting babied.”

You, apparently, also don’t even have that very permission to begin with, as he grabs you by the hem of your haori and unceremoniously drags you away from Reina and Suika. You have half a mind to hiss at him, but that would be a bit too embarrassing, and you wasted all your humiliation quota already on that Byakuya drawing you made. You save the hissing for another day and just let him do whatever he wants. It’s easier this way, anyway. But just because you give up and let Senku manhandle you around, doesn’t mean you can disregard your own feelings like that.

“What the hell am I supposed to do back there?” You snap, your voice breaking for what feels like hundredth time today. “I’m just sitting around doing nothing. Has it ever occurred to you that Dr. Inferiority Complex hates feeling useless?”

You despise that you sound the way you do: raw and borderline hurt. In front of other, uninvolved people, too. Today really is the day that pays homage to all the events you’ve been through ever since you woke up, isn’t it? You remember feeling the exact same way arguing with Gen near the miracle cave. You can recall it in far too much detail, so much so that it just adds to your overall sour mood and you just fan the fire instead of saving your face like you would have usually done. Because this time you are not upset about being the second choice, you are butting heads with Gen’s first option. And as much as you admire Ishigami Senku, you are still jealous of him. You are well aware that you need to just suck it up, but you don’t think you will ever get over your insecurities even if you want to eradicate them more than Tsukasa wants to implement his unrealistic eugenics worldwide.

It's an awkwardly prologued moment in which the two of you just stand there. Senku lets go of your collar, yet another metaphorical step back someone else is forced to do for your sake. Only you are not talking to Gen, Senku isn’t about to start pulling flowers from behind the folds of your clothes or play charades with you to make you feel better about yourself. That’s not who he is, and you can be quite an emotional nuisance, despite having no desire to be one. The two of you are on the same page about a lot of things, but you are bound to clash at some point, even over such minuscule and otherwise unimportant things. It really depends on who’s willing to be the bigger person between the two of you, and with how greedily you take in the taste of blood on your tongue, you fear that it won’t be you. And thus, it won’t be anyone.

You are wrong.

“Well, aren’t you lucky today?” Senku asks, voice dripping with sarcasm to cover up the fact that you made things inherently more awkward for everyone. “I have just a job for you and you would have known that if you actually listened.”

Despite rather unenthusiastic delivery, Senku sounds still very much annoyed, which is understandable on his part. You are a headache sometimes but it’s truly not the issue here, at least not for you. It takes every ounce of your self-control to not recoil the second those words leave Senku’s mouth. ‘You didn’t listen to me at all, you sure love sabotaging yourself, [Name]-chan.’ You can almost hear this agitating, grating noise of Gen being proven right and it messes with your head way more than you are willing to admit.

You have been thinking about that guy too much since that incident with the cup. That’s in no way healthy for your heart, or your brain for that matter. Next thing you know, you might just do something stupid and utterly unspeakable. That’s just awful, the last thing you want is to fall for his fake foxy charms, and forged smiles laced with toxin that is deadly for stupid people. But you love poison in a way that makes your heart stutter and that’s precisely the issue here. The feeling of your throat closing as the neurotoxin spreads through your system is exceptionally addictive, you wouldn’t mind if–

“Kinro finally pulled his head out of his ass, so you are going to polish his lenses.” Senku’s voice breaks your chain of thought before you can cross the line into something that is far too dangerous to even ponder over, much less to record in your journal. “I need my least useless employee to do her damn job.”

You are eternally grateful for how blandly Senku talks when he’s treading a dangerous line. It helps your brain to move from topic to topic with much more ease than if he were to put some emotional depth behind his words. You keep saying that men are liars and talking about how easy they are, but it’s because you aren’t any better. You are, in all honesty, way worse, but it’s not really your fault that you are this way. Still, you can’t actually believe how pathetic you are right now. All it takes for you to feel better about yourself is a half-assed, backhanded compliment. You are such a loser.

Whatever. You don’t care. Neither about Gen nor about Senku. Not at all. In fact, from now on you declare yourself to be the most apathetic woman of the stone world, with your only soft spot being Suika. And maybe Kohaku and Reina, but they are on thin ice right now. The rest can die for all you care; you won’t even try to resuscitate them if the need to do so arises.

You sigh, knocking the spine of the journal against your forehead. Your blood tastes even saltier than usual today and the itch to sink your teeth into something persists, although your own flesh doesn’t seem to satisfy you anymore. “Correction, you are making jam today,” you say, surrendered, and then throw the diary for Reina to catch. It almost hits her square in the face, proving that her terrible handling of soap isn’t just a one-time thing. You two are hopeless. “Everything you need is in there. Good luck, have fun, do not eat anything raw.” You point at Suika, just to make sure your message gets through. Then you turn to Senku, who is trying to figure out if you are going to make a run for it or not. He should know better, Reina clearly doesn’t know either the Wabun code or the Uesugi cipher, and you aren’t good with the IMC, so there won’t be any cryptic messages passed around between the two of you. “I don’t need a leash, but I do need to get paid.”

You are only joking. For the most part, of course. You don’t particularly mind being put on a leash under the right circumstances; God knows you actually need it sometimes. And your dream of a glorious capitalistic comeback remains, and the second money is back on the table, you will be at the center of it all, playing new world game of monopoly. It’s a bit too early for that, though, so for now you can only throw half-jokes around.

Senku knows that; that’s why he dismisses you with a laugh. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and you take his words with a heavy grain of salt.

Although he can’t necessarily bribe you with all the humble luxuries available at his scientific disposal, it can’t be said about other people. You suspect he also has some reward conditioning schemes of his own, and they mostly involve Gen and Reina. If you are being honest, you don’t want to be bribed, either. You will work for that bulletin board all on your own, and if Senku says no, well… You’ll just ask Kaseki instead, you are more than sure that old man won’t refuse if you sell your project just right.

It's obvious by now that Senku isn’t particularly interested in holding grudges and has a penchant to sweep issues under the rug just to not think about them for the sake of saving everyone the embarrassment. At least for as long as it’s advantageous to his cause. But it’s not quite the same as your outburst over Ruri’s recovery, so you’d rather apologize here and now. For your own benefit, more than anything. If you want to get over yourself, you need to actually think of the two of you – all of you here – as a team. A thing that Senku thinks you are and a thing you can’t imagine yourself being, at least not with your current state of mind. And you really, really, really want to stand equal next to competent people. If not because of your own desire but simply out of spite.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize meekly, wrapping your arms around yourself for some imaginary moral support. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I just–”

The grimace distorting Senku’s face is rather comical, and he is still terrible at genuine display of emotion, especially when it’s in relation to him. “I don’t care, not even a millimeter,” Senku interrupts what would have been your long-winded speech, his deadpan voice going even flatter when he says that. You still hate how no-nonsense Senku is sometimes, but it really doesn’t mix well with how casual he behaves. Pinky finger in his ear and everything. He really doesn’t have many female friends, does he… “People with a functioning frontal lobe dispute all the time. It’s the best part of developing cognitive thinking. I like it. Keeps things exciting.”

You hum in surprise, taken aback by such an out-of-pocket revelation. It’s not often that Senku admits to enjoying something, more so in regard to interaction with other people. But it sort of makes sense, you guess. Not a lot of people can keep up with someone like him, and if such a person does exist, they ought to clash sometimes. As all strongly opinionated people do. So Senku’s having a bit of a bias towards some charged banter seems like the most logical outcome.

You just don’t really understand why you are involved. Yes, you are by no means stupid, but there is such a glaring gap in expertise between the two of you, Mariana trench seems like a little puddle in comparison. It already feels like being in a general vicinity of a moderately smart person is melting your self-esteem to the bone. So it would have been amazing if you weren’t feeling like a fraud every time you stand next to anyone remotely intellectually proficient. Your life would have been so much easier that way. But your own actions lead to your father deciding you are far too dangerous with your full skill set, so he nerfed your confidence into oblivion. Now you are playing this game of life in survival mode and zero buffs. So much for picking a couple of wrong dialogue options.

Video game comparisons aside, it’s not that bickering with Senku makes you feel stupid or that you dislike it in any way, you just don’t think you are on the same level for him to get any enjoyment out of it. You are also afraid of crossing the line of harmless banter into genuine animosity. And you don’t do anger; they already got a taste of your ire, and you want to stay as far as humanly possible from this whole ‘you are your father’s daughter’ thing from now on. You love your dad, but you don’t want to love him.

That man may adore you and he may be right about you, but he’s also a weak-willed wimp with severe anger issues stemming from his inherent inferiority not only in his personal life but also in a professional setting. He will never truly understand what it’s like to be you, or your mom, or Mashiro, or Gen. Why does it always go back to Asagiri Gen? Your father doesn’t even know Gen exists. From what you remember, of course. Damn it.

“Well, I don’t,” you say hastily, trying to direct your line of thought somewhere more appropriate. “I hate arguing with you.” It takes a moment and one unimpressed look from Senku for you to realize how your words sound, so you fix it before he can misinterpret further or, which is arguably worse, use it against you later. “Or other people. Doesn’t matter. I just don’t.”

“Call it a debate, then.” Senku shrugs, dismissive, then digs his charcoal-covered fingers right in the middle of your forehead. “We’re all equal here. Use that fascinating mind of yours and figure something out,” he says, a rather interesting emphasis on the word fascinating. Senku could have toned down the sarcasm just a little bit, really, there’s no need for that much. “Otherwise, this is not gonna work. And if we want to restore humanity, I need this to work. Basic math.”

Not basic at all. Not even math, for that matter. You will probably find a cure for cancer before you get over almost ten years of conditioning. You will also die of embarrassment before that, because just how easy is it to see right through you? Good thing Senku doesn’t linger long enough to see just how irrationally flustered you look. He simply changes the subject as if he hasn’t just Pacific War during August of 1945 the hell out of you. But history does repeat itself, as it turns out. Because it works: you surrender.

“Yo, Ginro,” Senku calls out, spotting Ginro sitting around on a crate of iron sand, although he’s not fast to deliver any punishment, except his usual verbal lashing. He gets swept up by Chrome and his crazed rambling far too fast to even say a proper goodbye. “Quit scratching your balls and go help [Name]. Just wash your damn hands before doing that.”

You wipe your forehead. Stupid charcoal. You don’t mind if Reina snoops around your journal, you just hope she can keep a secret. I want to show you something fun, just promise you’re not the one to kiss and tell. You need an urgent lobotomy, it seems like. Everything reminds you of Gen today. Maybe you are actually worried about his life, after all. Well, it can’t be helped now, can it? You will patch him up again if things come to it, you are far more prepared this time around. He won’t even feel a thing if you need to stitch him up, too. Damn it, who are you kidding? You sigh. So much for trying to become the most indifferent woman of the stone world.

You should pick your words arefully-cay, [Name]-chan. I can just leave you in the forest alone. Funny thing Gen said that, considering you are the one who left him there alone in the presence of Tsukasa’s gym bros and your deadly ex-crush. Sometimes words are not enough when weapons are involved and despite being capable, you’d rather not collect Gen’s limbs to sew them back to his body. There must be a way to look after him while also aiding the cause, and the thought that comes to mind right now is to sabotage Hyoga.

You can’t rely too much on the power of the so-called battle team, anyway. There’s only so much time they have to master wielding a katana, and Hyoga is the best of the best. If he lures any of them on the bridge (which he will) or if Magma won’t listen to instructions (which he won’t), you will lose this fight without it even starting. The only viable option is to tamper with Hyoga’s spear, but Gen has zero inconspicuous weapons at hand, and it was a real bad choice on his part to not keep your knife for himself.

What you do have is a trail of black nightshade and the smartest little girl of the stone world. You just need Reina and Suika to come back. And, which is arguably more important, talk this scheme out with Senku first. That’s probably the only thing you need permission for, really. Just in case you endanger someone by acting in secret.

These thoughts remain creeping at the back of your head all throughout your lens polishing process. Which takes embarrassingly too long, your brain is clearly not cooperating well with you now that it found something to obsessively worry about. Senku left you with a lot of metal wire, a far more suitable material for a frame than bamboo, and you are almost proud of how good the glasses turn out to be, even if Kinro picks the worst damn shape out of a dozen that you presented him with. The lenses themselves are a way easier of a task: Kinro isn’t as blind as Suika is, which makes your job less time-consuming but infinitely more boring, if only Ginro weren’t complaining about needing to help you the whole time.

By the time the three of you are done with Kinro’s glasses, Reina and Suika return with an assortment of berries, and you rope Kinro into helping the three of you with making fresh jam, while shooing Ginro back to work. Senku, Chrome, and Kaseki are already wrapping up with sharpening the blades, so you don’t have much time left even if you are glad that the preparations are almost over. The wind is getting progressively moodier the closer it gets to nightfall, and you give it a day at best before the autumn weather finally catches up to you with rain. Which is just barely enough time for the kingdom’s makeshift battle team to get used to using swords instead of spears.

When the day comes to its end, you are immensely relieved that everyone enjoys your – or, well, Reina and Suika’s at this point – treat of gratitude. It’s just enough time for you to corner Senku alone inside the lab and get him into your plan of tampering with Hyoga’s kudayari. Not the most proper thing to do, but you aren’t strait-laced or even up for playing by the rules. Never were and never will be. If it helps you to gain the upper hand against a potentially murderous man, then sure, you will stoop so low you will be swimming with deep-sea fish. Anything is fair – except murder – and you will use everything that you have at your disposal. Be it your own crocodile tears, your weaponized watermelon child, or your silver-tongued mentalist.

Senku, as much of a bastard as he is, grins at you in complete agreement, twirling a little pocketknife on his index finger. “Great minds do think alike, after all.” You scoff at that, rolling your eyes. If he wants to butter you up with sarcastic flattery, then sure. It works, so who cares. “What’s up with you and Hyoga, anyway?”

You know damn well that Senku isn’t insinuating anything, he’s not that kind of person and you genuinely think hell freezes over before he’ll be interested in anything of sort. Still, you ask, “What do you want to know?”

Senku cracks his neck, hand pressed against the back of his nape. There’s still a little charcoal residue clinging to his skin right under his jaw. “Anything you say can and will be used against him.”

That’s not how Miranda warning goes, but you don’t bother arguing when it’s supposed to be a joke. You do your best to explain what kind of man Hyoga is while evading the more foolish parts like your now-nonexistent feelings. Although you don’t know much of Hyoga’s personal life to properly testify, it’s a drawn-out back and forth of Senku asking hyper-specific questions and you swerving around the sensitive topic. Not much fun for you, but Senku has the time of his life watching you squirm, so it’s great that at least one of you gets to relax today.

What really sticks with you, however, is Senku’s question of whether or not Hyoga has someone worth reviving. You really can’t answer that. There’s a higher chance of you explaining in great detail how the kudayari works than any of Hyoga’s interpersonal relationships. You haven’t met outside of the dojo and most of the time it was just Kenjiro keeping the conversation going for the sake of humiliating you. That boy is a spawn of Satan (his father) but he’s not malicious, he only does that because he knows you are fine with it.

“Nobody that I know of, I’m sorry,” you say, rubbing your temples in slow, deliberate circles. Despite saying that, for the second time today you can’t shake off this itchy feeling of something unsettling drilling holes in your skull. It’s like you forgot something, and no matter how hard you try to recall it, the memory won’t return to you. This used to be a common occurrence back in the day but today is the first time you have experienced this since your revival. Whatever it is that you forgot must have been important for your nervous system to flare up like that. Still, against all your efforts, nothing comes to mind. “But let me think about it, maybe I–”

“Knock yourself out, doc,” Senku nods, albeit a little skeptical, which you can’t blame him for.

It’s a ghastly sort of dread biting at the nape of your neck while you try to force your brain to dive deeper into the trash bin of discarded files, and you dig your nails into the healed-up wound on your palm. The yellow stains on your fingers are a striking contrast to the rest of your skin, even more so to the little discolored scar on your palm. You feel like you are almost at the right spot within your memory when Reina pokes her head inside.

“You guys should eat before the food gets cold,” she says, although her tone loses its cheerfulness halfway through when she finally catches on the tense atmosphere.

“Don’t wreck your brain over this, we still need it,” Senku says to you, providing zero context to Reina. “Let’s go before Ginro eats us into debt.”

You nod solemnly, still disheartened by the fact that you can’t make yourself remember things even with a functioning brain. Logically, you know it’s impossible to recover completely lost information, but some part of you still hoped for petrification’s wonder healing to be truly miraculous. A little naïve, but a girl can dream sometimes. Whatever, who cares about useless memories involving pathetic men when you can make new ones with… men that aren’t much better but far more enjoyable to be around.

You spent your mealtime filling Suika in on your plan, promising her she will find her way to Gen no matter what. She’s as eager as always, off on her quest before the sun has completely set. You spend the rest of your evening savoring a glass of wine, accompanied by Ginro’s delighted cries over getting a new shiny weapon, although both Kinro and Kohaku aren’t far behind in terms of excitement. Even Kokuyo seems to be far more into the science of weaponry now that it’s aiding him.

Almost everyone is already asleep when Suika returns from her mission. It’s just you, Senku, Reina, and Kohaku patiently waiting for her near the fire. You waste your time sketching away as Kohaku swings her katana around, with Reina and Senku conversing about something in a rather heated manner. You try not to pay much attention to that particular part, the last thing you want is to start feeling jealous over the person you are jealous of. It doesn’t even make any sense, but you are a loser and your impostor syndrome is a thing that is utterly irrational. And Reina is a very competent woman. Damn it.

You hear Chalk barking before Suika rolls into your line of sight, a satisfied thumb-up thrown your way. Kohaku heaves a sigh of relief, and you would be lying if you said you also don’t feel a lot of weight slipping off your shoulders when you spot the watermelon helmet. For both Suika and Gen.

The girl hastily updates everyone on her trip, basking in congratulations for yet another successful mission from Kohaku and Reina, and then offers you a flower. You stare at it, pursed lips and charcoal cracking in between your fingers. That damn mentalist. Where did he even get a bluebell from in the middle of autumn. Whatever. At least you know he’s alright. That’s all you really wanted, anyway. You guess you will add the bluebell to your pressed flower collection later; it’s getting quite big now. No thanks to your own efforts.

Kohaku sheathes her sword, petting Reina on the shoulder to let her know it’s time to return back to the main islet. Reina picks Suika up, the girl waving you and Senku goodbye from her vantage point, and they leave the two of you alone. You really hope tonight will be the night you actually get some sleep, but with the way Senku is eyeing that damn flower, you guess not.

An unapologetic snort, Senku doesn’t let the opportunity to taunt you to pass him by, “Someone’s desperate.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, planting your forehead right against the mess of charcoal you smushed all over the page. “He doesn’t–”

“I meant you,” Senku elaborates, making the whole thing just so much worse. All you can do is stare blankly at him, marveling at the sheer audacity of this guy.

“I am dialing Tsukasa,” you mutter, grinding your teeth. A baseless threat you will never follow through, but damn it, where do your acting skills go whenever it’s time to defend your own honor? Why can’t you sound a little more believable?

Senku doesn’t even blink when you say this, just picks up one of the charcoal pieces scattered around the journal, and appropriates it for himself. “You sure?” Senku asks, scribbling something down in between the drawing you made of him and Reina together. “You are his PEN2 now.”

Senku cackles, but he’s ten billion percent serious. You stole something from the emperor overlord of lithic brawn, and he will inevitably be mad about it. An achievement, for sure, but not the kind to be proud of. Your life is a joke, even if it’s damn hilarious. But really, what kind of world are you living in? You can’t even be someone’s arch nemesis without competing for the crown with ten other, way more competent people. Damn it. You laugh so hard, your stomach hurts.

At least the two of you finally get to sleep well tonight.

hiiii welcome back!! 8.4k words in this one.

it's kinda filler (anything i write is lmao) but reina is finally here!! some senku and mc bonding as usual. gen is missed dearly. he will return in the next chapter 100%. also idk if i mentioned it before bc my memory is that of a goldfish but every time there's any sort of flowers mentioned in relation to gen they have a meaning! just a cute little something ig. also things will pick up drastically from the next chapter so beware. i'm serious. it's ridiculous from now on.

mc has severe anger issues but she hates having anger issues so she is trying to suppress them. she also has a raging inferiority complex and she's jealous as hell sometimes. all the good stuff.