Chapter Text
“So, tell me, Gen - when did you and Senku get together?” Ryusui asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in his eye.
Gen had pegged him as someone who enjoyed a bit of gossip - he’d even approached with the intention of indulging in some himself. But the question catches him off guard, and he spills a bit of his freshly made cola before he can recover. He mourns that internally - he always has to plead with Senku for a bit before he makes any more.
“I fear I don’t know what you mean, my dear Ryusui,” he says cheerfully. Ryusui is too sharp to play off his surprise, so it looks like he’s just going to have to disabuse his friend of this notion. Gen settles in on the logs placed around the fire with a sigh, hoping no one else is listening in. It’s dusk out, and people are preparing dinner around them. Ship building is hard, heavy work and the amount of calories they have to consume is insane. Gen’s on cleanup duty for tonight, and he had hoped he could rest while food was being cooked, but that seems foolish now.
Ryusui snaps and laughs uproariously, and Gen sees Ukyo, in the middle of helping Kohaku butcher a freshly caught tuna, wince. Oh good, someone’s listening. At least Ukyo keeps his mouth shut most of the time. “Don’t lie to me! You surely are together, are you not?”
“How on earth did you even come to that conclusion?” Gen asks, absolutely baffled. “Absolutely not! No way!”
Ryusui quirks his eyebrows, looking more smug than he should, considering how flat-out wrong he is. “It’s not a shame to admit to your desires, Gen! Desire is the most noble thing of all!” he booms. God, Gen wishes he would shut up.
“Yes, indeed, sure, but the key thing there is having the desire and I don’t,” he says testily. Gen has good control over himself but he feels himself on-edge, almost snapping. He finds himself searching for Senku, hoping he hasn’t heard a word of this. Senku is standing over a blueprint laid out on a table, pointing out something to Kaseki and Chrome, who both look thrilled. Senku is grinning as he scribbles on the paper.
In the dying light of day, he looks younger than he usually does. Senku often carries the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and since Tsukasa went into his cold sleep, there’s these moments where Gen glances over and worries he’s at risk of being crushed. Senku is only recently eighteen, the leader of a kingdom and the bearer of almost all modern scientific knowledge. He’s killed a friend and finished a war, all before he could have legally bought alcohol back in the modern day. Gen finds his grip on his cola bottle tightening as he watches Senku lift his head and catch Gen’s eye. Senku offers him a little smirk, and Gen grins at him before he can think better of it.
“See, that look is what I mean,” Ryusui says jovially, snapping Gen out of his reverie. “You can’t look at a man like that and say you don’t desire him!”
Ukyo wanders over, using a wet cloth to clean his hands of blood and scales. “Deboning a fish never gets easier,” he grumbles, plopping down next to Gen on the log, inspecting his hands with a scowl.
Thank god. Hopefully now that Ukyo is here, Gen can guide the topic to something safer. “It must be especially challenging, given that you used to be a vegetarian,” he warbles, hoping that will prompt Ryusui down some other path of conversation.
“Ukyo, you agree that Gen and Senku are definitely boning, am I right?” Ryusui asks instead, and Gen screams inside his head. Sometimes, Ryusui is impossible to distract. He understands why Minami cautioned Senku about picking him.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ukyo says demurely, and if Gen was into guys, he would have fallen for Ukyo immediately there. “I could see them both being the type to wait for something like marriage.” He smiles brightly at Gen.
Gen takes back everything nice he’s ever said about Ukyo. He’ll steal all of Ukyo’s arrows and replace them with ones with clown noses for tips.
“As Senku would say, ten billion percent that I don’t even have a single hint of romantic feelings for Senku,” Gen says, flapping his hand in front of his face, eyes closed, a meaningless smile curling his lips. “You guys are just making up silly stories again.”
It’s not to say Senku isn’t important to him. He is, genuinely. He’s become the center of Gen’s life, the black hole at the center of the galaxy that everything orbits around, and Gen risked life and limb to help him, would do it all again. But desire and love have nothing to do with it. Gen is an opportunistic turncoat to his core, and he knows Senku finds that useful. But a shallow man like him can’t be bothering with something as deep and as soul-moving as love - especially not with someone as kind, as driven, as honest as Senku is.
Gen’s not capable of it. He wishes his friends would just accept that.
When he opens his eyes, Ryusui isn’t looking at him, but just past him, eyes narrowed, smirk gone. Gen turns his head and finds Senku standing there, his hand paused mid-air, as if he’d been about to touch Gen’s shoulder. His jaw is tight, his petrification scars distorted by the furrow of his eyebrows. His ears are red, stark against his pale skin.
“What’s up, dear Senku?” he prompts after a strangely long moment of silence.
“....Never mind, I forgot what I needed,” Senku mutters abruptly, turning on his heel and stalking off, shoulders stiff, fists clenched. Gen watches him go, then glances at Ukyo, baffled. Ryusui is uncharacteristically quiet, watching Senku like he’s just been handed a riddle. Ukyo looks like he’s witnessed a knife fight that narrowly missed bloodshed.
“I feel like I missed something,” Gen says plaintively, when it becomes clear no one else is going to say anything.
Ukyo, the bastard, just gives him a gentle smile. “You did,” he replies kindly.
They don’t bring it up for the rest of the evening, but the air feels shifted, off. Senku usually sits by Gen while they eat, but when Francois is done preparing the meal - grilled tuna steaks with ginger accompanied with wild rice and kogomi boiled in soy sauce - Senku takes his plate over towards Taiju and Yuzuriha instead. Yuzuriha looks surprised as Senku settles down next to her. Taiju looks thrilled.
Yuzuriha leans in and asks something quietly. Gen, sitting next to Suika and Ukyo, strains his ears but can’t make anything out as Senku appears to sigh heavily and start to reply. Ryusui comes over and sits down next to Senku, nodding along to whatever he’s saying. Infuriatingly, he keeps his tone low when he says something to Senku in a way he never does when he’s talking to Gen.
“Can you hear what they’re saying?” he asks Ukyo, who is determinedly breaking up his tuna and mixing it in thoroughly with his vegetables and rice. Ukyo - a staunch vegetarian in the modern day - has done a good job of adapting to the fact that calories are so limited in their modern environment that he essentially has to eat fish and meat, but he’s always been clear he’s not happy about it.
“That’s called spying, Gen, and it’s impolite,” Ukyo chides gently.
“Maybe I just wanted to test how good your ears are,” Gen grumbles, taking a bite of his tuna steak. It’s delicious, because Francois is an amazing cook, no matter what they have to work with, but Gen finds that it tastes oddly ashy in his mouth, and despite how much he worked today, he’s suddenly not particularly hungry. He sets his chopsticks down.
“My ears are incredible, thank you for asking,” Ukyo says, tone perfectly prim. Gen abruptly feels like he’s being scolded by an older sibling. “And I can hear what they’re saying, but I’m not going to tell you what it is. I know you two are joined at the hip, but Senku is entitled to a private conversation.” He takes a precise little bite, as if to punctuate his statement.
“That’s not what I meant,” Gen says to his tuna steak, and Ukyo snorts.
“I think you should figure out what you mean,” he replies, and Gen gets the feeling he’s missing something again.
He looks to Suika for help, but she’s ignoring them both as she feasts, clearly delighted with her dinner.
“I’m feeling a little like people are ganging up on me,” Gen mumbles, picking at his food. It’s late summer, so the air isn’t crisp, but he’s suddenly not feeling as comfortable as he was earlier. He pulls his kimono tighter around himself.
“That’s not it,” Ukyo says. “Mostly it’s just something I think we’re surprised you’re not aware of yet.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
“You’ll just have to think about it for a while,” Ukyo says, making a face at the taste of tuna. He’s probably going to revert back to vegetarianism the moment they remake tofu. “I’m not trying to be mean to you, Gen. This is just something where I don’t think I’m the appropriate messenger.”
Gen hums, and looks towards Senku. He’s listening to Ryusui ramble on about something, face serious. Yuzuriha looks almost sad, gazing at Senku with undisguised concern. Gen wonders what they’re saying, what Senku clearly didn’t think he could come to Gen with.
Whatever. Sometimes people just need a bit of time. Like Ukyo said, Senku always returns to Gen’s side. He just has to give him some space for now. Heartened, Gen forces himself to eat some of his dinner. It’ll all be okay in a day or two.
—
After a few days, Gen’s forced to admit he judged this wrong. Senku is talking to him, but he keeps conversations short and to the point - mostly just asking Gen to do whatever needs to be done and then walking away before Gen can draw him into conversation. They had been sharing a tent, but Senku abruptly moves into one of his own. He doesn’t sit besides Gen at evening meals, instead mostly sticking close to Ryusui, Yuzuriha, Taiju, and Chrome.
Gen keeps seeing Senku in small groups - often Ryusui, Yuzuriha, or Ukyo and sometimes Kohaku, Nikki, or - weirdly - Ruri. The conversations never look enjoyable - Senku’s expression, at a distance, is reminiscent of someone undergoing a root canal. But they keep happening, and when Gen approaches, people clearly stop discussing whatever it was they were talking about and switch to a lighter topic until Senku can make an excuse to leave.
Gen feels unsettled by it. He’s used to being the first person Senku turns to when he needs something, used to being the soundboard for his plans, used to reading between Senku’s words to find out what’s nagging at him.
To suddenly be one of the problems weighing on Senku in some form feels terrible. He’s such an important person in Gen’s life that Gen can barely remember existing without him at all.
Out of desperation, Gen decides to stop waiting around and start problem-solving. Since he’s not sure he can pin down Senku long enough to get an answer out of him, he goes with the second-best option and corners Yuzuriha when she’s leaving her sewing tent, a pile of freshly-constructed clothing draped over her arms.
“Yuzuriha, hi hi,” he chirps as he walks up. It’s the middle of the day - most everyone else is occupied with food production or ship building. Gen’s supposed to be on paper-making duty, but he was able to convince the children it was a fun game and wiggle out of doing it himself so he could come find Yuzuriha. He probably has about half an hour before the children get rounded up by Ukyo and Nikki for afternoon classes, and he intends to use the time well.
“Oh…hi,” Yuzuriha says, sounding unsure and flat. She doesn’t smile, which is odd. Her arms tighten around the pile of clothes. “I thought you were making paper.”
“I finished early,” Gen lies easily, and Yuzuriha narrows her eyes, looking suspicious. She starts walking towards the shack where they keep all the clothing, her body language clearly screaming that she doesn’t want to talk to him. Gen follows, trying to not give away his nerves. “Anyway, I had a question for you.”
Yuzuriha makes a non-committal humming sound as she puts the clothes down on a table and starts neatly folding and sorting them. Gen takes that as an invitation to keep talking.
“I noticed our dear Senku seems stressed,” he begins, and Yuzuriha pauses momentarily. Her fingers curl into a fist before she shakes her hands out and picks up the pace, folding shirts like they’ve done her personal injury. “I just wanted to see if there is a way to help out.”
“I don’t think you can help with this,” Yuzuriha says, not looking at him.
Ouch. “What good is the resident mentalist, if I can’t help with our dear leader’s issues?” Gen presses, and Yuzuriha closes her eyes and inhales deeply. “I am deeply concerned with social stability, after all.”
“If that’s true, then leave Senku alone,” Yuzuriha says firmly.
“But - “ Gen starts, and Yuzuriha slams her hands down on the table. The sound is so shocking that Gen falls silent immediately, staring at Yuzuriha warily.
“Stop,” she orders, voice firm. “You asked and I told you. This isn’t an area you can help. Leave it alone, Gen.”
“Will you at least tell me why he seems upset with me?” Gen asks, dropping the act. Yuzuriha is clearly not in the mood to be charmed.
Yuzuriha gives him a flat stare, eyes cold. It's so out of character for her what Gen finds himself taking a step back involuntarily. He has suddenly remembered that she's quite good with scissors. “I am trying to be polite with you, Gen, but you are making it challenging,” she says quietly.
“I’m not doing anything,” Gen says despairingly, flinging his hands towards the sky. “Senku can barely talk to me, you’re mad at me, and everyone keeps having these super-secret conversations with Senku - what is happening to everyone?”
Yuzuriha purses her lips and looks down at her clasped hands. “I think the specifics will need to be explained to you by Senku, but you really hurt his feelings, Gen.”
“How on earth did I do that?” Gen asks, absolutely baffled.
Yuzuriha looks conflicted for a moment, before she sighs. “Senku is not the type to say things in words,” she says carefully. She’s clearly thinking through every word she says, weighing the potential consequences before voicing it. “He’s always been more of an actions person. When his dad was selected for the space mission, I don’t think Senku ever directly said he was proud or that he would miss him. But he did spend hours and hours figuring out how to capture the taste of their favorite ramen place in one of the rehydrated meal packets. He’s direct, but not about his feelings.”
She looks at him steadily, mouth firm. “You need to assess his actions right now, Gen, and then think about what you might have said.” She takes a step forward, and points at him threateningly. “Don’t approach him until you’ve thought about it good and hard and until you’ve determined what you want,” she warns. “He deserves better than that.”
She turns to walk away, and calls over her shoulder, “And I know you’re lying about finishing the paper.”
Gen watches her go, baffled. He puts a hand on his hip, presses another hand into the back of his neck. He feels like he’s been presented with all the information he needs, just scattered and mismatched, and he’s unsure if he can piece it together. Since awakening in the Stone World, Gen has felt in control in a way he never did in the modern world, useful in a way he never expected to be. All of a sudden, he’s remembering how it felt to be so ingrained in show business, have his fate linger on how polite he could be to people he hated.
He has a role to serve, so he doubts he’ll be cast out, but suddenly Gen feels lonely in a way he hasn’t since he met Senku.
He goes back to paper-making right as Ukyo comes to gather the children for class. Ukyo looks distinctly unimpressed when he realizes Gen had conned the children into making paper for him, but they’re so excited to show Ukyo the stacks of drying paper that he doesn’t do anything worse than give Gen the stink-eye, even as he praises them.
Ukyo sends the children ahead and tells them to get set up for maths practice, before he turns to Gen, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. “You need to be careful with what you’re doing,” he says warningly. “I heard you talking to Yuzuriha. She’s really just trying to look out for Senku here.”
“Is there anything you don’t hear?” Gen grouses, picking up the heavy club they use to pulp the fibers. He never feels the need to physically work out his energy, but the fizz of anxiety through him is compelling him to move. He starts beating the mass of fibers, using every ounce of strength he has.
Ukyo lets out a quiet sigh. “Sometimes it’s very clear I’m five years older than most of you,” he mutters. “Gen, you’re a dear friend. I don’t think you meant to hurt anyone. But I do think you’re not being honest with yourself. I think you want something, and you're so deep in denial, Senku’s reading it as rejection.”
Gen doesn’t answer. He just keeps swinging, finding new reserves of energy he didn’t know he had. The repeated thud of the club fills the silence.
Ukyo watches him for a long moment. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away.
Gen keeps swinging long after he’s gone, like the truth might come loose if he just hits it hard enough.
—
Gen does think about it for another few days, turning Senku’s actions over in his head. The cola-making. The work assignments. The late-night conversations. The way Senku had stared at him, shocked, when Gen unveiled the observatory back in Ishigami village.
What could Senku possibly have interpreted as rejection?
The truth is, Gen can’t pinpoint anything out of the ordinary. Senku has always treated him the same - curt and logical, yes, but with a thread of compassion he never quite hides. It’s the kind of quiet care Gen’s long since learned not to call attention to. Senku doesn’t do well with people noticing how kind he really is.
Still, a week into this new, strange distance between them, Gen can’t take it anymore.
He knows Yuzuriha or Ukyo likely won’t be thrilled with whatever he’s about to do, but Gen’s never been one to let someone else’s discomfort stop him from acting when it counts.
Senku’s been keeping himself surrounded by people lately, never leaving enough space for a private word. Whatever this is, Gen refuses to have it out with an audience. So one morning, before the sun has fully risen, Gen drags himself out of bed. Senku, cursed with being a morning person, always likes to start the day before most people are even coherent.
Gen is waiting by the creek where Senku likes to wash up when Senku meanders down the little path, yawning. He stops abruptly when he sees Gen perched on a rock by the creek, suddenly alarmed. There’s a tension to his face, and he looks like he might bolt.
Gen stands up, hands out placatingly. “Senku dear, I just want to talk.”
Senku stares at him warily, like Gen is a lion that might lunge. “This feels more like an ambush than a discussion.”
Gen’s temper feels a little frayed, but he tries to keep his tone level as he says, “I didn’t think you would want to have me try and talk to you around other people.”
Senku presses his lips together, looking displeased. “I don’t really want to be talking to you in general, right now,” he says quietly. Ouch. “Just…let me be, Gen. I’m working through it.”
“Senku dear, please talk to me,” Gen begs, reaching out to grab his arms. Senku withdraws them before Gen can touch him.
“I was trying to nip it in the bud,” Senku mutters, his voice tight. He won’t meet Gen’s eyes. He’s always looked Gen full in the face - to not see his eyes now feels wrong. His ears are red again.
“Nip what in the bud?” Gen asks, perplexed. “Anger? Irritation? What did I do?”
He can’t stand Senku not talking to him. All his life, Gen has felt like a badly-cut puzzle piece in the jigsaw of society: edges too sharp, curves too jagged. He never fit anywhere until he burst out of the stone, saw his birthday carved into a tree, ate the worst ramen of his life, and watched a teenager rebuild a lightbulb from nothing. For once, his polished mentalism felt like more than a parlor trick - Senku made it feel like it mattered. With Senku, he could stop wars, rally allies, rebuild the world. And now?
To suddenly feel cast aside is the most achingly lonely feeling Gen has ever had, lonelier than millennia in the stone.
Senku closes his eyes and inhales steadily, deliberately, like he’s bracing himself for something. He lifts his head, exhales, opens his eyes. He looks determined, but like he expects the worst case. “This is on me, not you,” he says warningly, and then swallows hard. “Gen. I like you.”
The world suddenly goes very quiet. Gen feels dizzy, like the earth has shifted beneath him, like the rules of gravity have suddenly changed. It reminds him of the silence before a disaster fully strikes - when it’s just started, right before the full devastation becomes clear.
“....Like in a friendly way, right?” he asks quietly. That must be what Senku means. He’s so reluctant to admit care for anyone, even the people he has known forever, that confessing to friendship alone must put Senku in a bind.
“No,” Senku says. “Romantically.”
Gen’s heart stumbles, then starts racing. The air feels too thin, like he’s standing at the peak of a mountain, scraping the sky with nothing stable beneath his feet.
Senku searches his face for a moment, eyes hard. He doesn’t seem to find what he wanted, because he draws back with a sharp inhale. “I don’t expect you to return my feelings,” he says tersely. “Just…let me deal with them. A brain in love is illogical. Let me keep debugging my buggy head and leave me be.”
“...Senku,” Gen says, his voice quiet, reaching out a shaking hand. “You can’t mean that.”
Senku smirks, his eyes sad. He looks lost. He looks eighteen. “I ten billion percent do, mentalist. I think I have since the moment we met. I’ll say this now - I don’t need you to comfort me. Just leave me be while I get over this.”
There’s a yawning void opening within Gen. He feels dizzy, nauseous, like the world’s tilted too far off center. Senku looks at him for a long moment - eyes glassy, mouth soft, brows drawn in something like regret. “I don’t blame you,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse.
He turns and walks away, disappearing behind the trees without looking back. Gen stares after him, absolutely lost for words.
For the first time in years, Gen feels like he’s missed a cue he didn’t know he was supposed to deliver.