Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Taiju had noticed the scar on Senku’s chest had been at a sleepover. He hadn’t really thought much of it at the time, considering the two of them weren’t all that old, and there were more important—more interesting—things to do than to ask about a gangly, gnarled, red scar. Over the years, the scar had simply become a fixture of the reality of who Senku was, and Taiju—well—he’d admit it, he was a simple guy, and all that really mattered was that Senku was Senku.

He couldn’t have cared less that his best friend had bad days, where he’d rock up to school looking like a soft gust of wind could knock him over, or that he struggled up the numerous stairs in the school. Nah. Taiju took it all into his stride naturally, adapting, protectively, making sure that those days were the days he stuck nearer to Senku so if he did fall over, Senku would fall on him. It never really occurred to him that it was odd for Senku to be excluded from sports, because Seku found find ways to participate in his own way that made it seem like he was included. Sports—Senku said—was science. All things—Senku said—could be broken down with science. Their school’s volleyball team, and basketball team, both male and female, were heading into the spring finals this year.

Having Senku around was a bit of a cheat code.

Folk just had to see past Senku’s prickly nature and his very thick sarcasm, and if they did, then they’d be handed all sorts of fascinating wonders if they just took the time to listen. Senku was actually a pretty charismatic guy, it was just a lot of people didn’t notice his sort of charisma as being charisma because of how unusual it was. But Taiju did. He saw it, and he appreciated Senku’s smile. That his best friend was strong enough to wear a smile when he was silently struggling up the school stairs made Taiju just grab his bag without hesitation. They were like that with each other.

It was a particularly ordinary day. Life was like that. The days blended into each other during high school. They’d finally finished their club activities and were heading home.

“I’m telling you, Senku. I’m going to do it! I will confess, you’ll see. End of this week. I’ll do it.” Taiju bounced into his shoes.

“Ah. Sure.” Senku was a little more dignified as he removed his shoes from his locker. “Stop making the ground shake, you big oaf.” Senku ruffled around in his school jacket, finding a hair tie, and as he did exactly on the dot, the moment they walked out the school doors, he wrapped up his pale white, flimsy hair into a knot.

Senku rolled back his shoulders, glaring at the sun in disdain. “Bane of my existence.”

Taiju handed him his sunglasses. “Put them on.” He insisted.

“I look like a dork.”

“You are a dork.” Taiju laughed.

“Brutal, man.” Senku slipped the glasses on. “Brutal.”

“I speak but honest truth.” Taiju wrapped his arms behind his head. “Wanna head to the arcade.”

“I can’t.” Senku shifted his bag in an uncomfortable motion. “Hospital.”

“Ah. Right.” Taiju nodded. “Want me to come?” He’d offer, as he always did. Senku would reject it, but, it was always the right thing to do—to offer.

Senku dropped his shoulders back. “Nahhhh. It’s totally fine.”

It wasn’t. Really.

But Senku wasn’t one to show cracks. It wasn’t that he was overly analytical, or that he was incapable of emotions, it was a barrier of protection he’d walled up around himself. Taiju was a simple guy, sure, but he had a feeling that was why he was the one who could wiggle his way through Senku’s walls. Once, he’d been curious enough to head to the library and find books on foster kids, and kids that had medical trauma. He hadn’t really understood much of it, but he’d grasped enough to know Senku was a lot more complicated that his dry sarcasm and tendency to get obsessed with a project. 

People in their class so often dismissed Senku as a jerk, and while it was true that he could be blunt and dismissive, to those he truly cared about, he paid attention. When someone was in Senku’s orbit, he made the conscious choice to observe them, and learn everything about them—to see them smile. It had really frustrated Taiju when they’d been younger, that Senku could put in so much effort, but no one really returned that effort—so—he’d planted himself like a planet to Senku’s sun. He’d be there—forever—

“By the way, you missed math tutoring today.” Senku turned around, skipping a step. “Mega disappointed.”

Taiju blew a rasp. “I got distracted.” By trying to come up with ways to confess to Yuzuriha Ogawa. That was completely understandable.

“If you want to pass the exam, you need to study, I am offering to help.”

“I know. I know.”

“Then show me and be proactive.” Senku clapped his hands. “Come on, come on, passing grade this time, Taiju. You can do it.”

“You’re—”

“Brillant.”

Taiju laughed. He couldn’t argue with that statement of fact.

00000

No matter how much the hospital tried to cover up the smells of alcohols, chlorines and formaldehyde with floral and citrus scents, they never could. The chemicals were distinct and irritating, making the nose tingle and run. There was no way to escape the fomentation of gloominess that circled around due to the unsettling smells.

In all his years of being in and around the hospital, Senku would have thought he’d have grown accustomed to the scents and sometimes unnerving sights that the environment held, but he hadn’t. The long, unnaturally tinted corridors, with their eerie lighting, were just as unsettling as the first day he’d found himself aware he was inside a hospital.

Obviously, he’d been born in one, but, as good as his memory was, he couldn’t remember his own birth, something he was remarkably relieved about. He had biological parents, but he had never known them well to profess care. He did know they’d wanted him, and the man who he now called father had been their best friend. It was incomprehensible to him, irrational even, that someone would be so selfless as to take in a child on their own. Humans were humans. Complicated. Messy. Illogical. Hundreds of thousands of years would never change that about their species.

But the wonderful thing about irrationality were the people willing to love the unloved. That was also so very wonderfully human, and it was why he was still alive—today—because someone had chosen to be irrational. Byakuya Ishigami was such a someone.

The natural order dictated that one should protect themselves and their own, not the weak and the ill. Science had allowed humanity to rise above the natural order.

Science had given them hope.

Senku eased open the heavy, double doors into the children’s ward. Several nurses waved at him in greeting and he forced a smile in return. The nurses were sweet and kind, they tried endearingly to chase away the dark cloud of illness by brightening up the children’s ward with streamers and art. Senku arched an eyebrow at the new Mario themed wallpaper that lined the gaming room. Hiroto would be a little irked that just as he was going to leave, they finally got rid of the old flaky paint. Lame.

“Good evening, Miss. Segumi.” Senku greeted the short, steely woman behind the nurses station.

“Ah. Senku. Good. I have some papers for you to sign. Hiroto’s condition is on course for his release tomorrow.”

Several wads of medical sheets were handed to him. Segumi was always prompt with him. He appreciated that.

“Thanks.” Senku reached for a pen.

“Have you heard from your father?” The nurse asked.

Byakuya getting into the space program had made their little family unit somewhat legendary at the hospital, and the attached university, wherein the old man had maintained his solid professorship. Almost every nurse on the ward had gone through at least one class with his father.

“Hoping to connect with him in about an hour.” Senku offered as he signed the forms and handed them back. He shifted through the medical sheets to check them, frowning at several points of conjecture. “He’s still on opioids?”

It seemed excessive, especially considering they were on week four of recovery.

“His pain has been significant.” The nurse sighed. “But it should improve. Returning him into a home environment will allow for greater distractions.”

Senku flipped one of the sheets over. “I’ll have to take tomorrow off school. Could you write me up a form for that.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks Miss. Segumi.” He gave a small bow, turned, and headed down the corridor, folding up the medical sheets and tucking them into his backpack as he walked. It was a very familiar path. Not just because he had walked it so often to find Hiroto’s room, but because he had once been a resident of the same ward. It was how he’d first met Byakuya Ishigami—before the adoption—they spent a long time here, together. So, he supposed there was something special about the ward, because of that. He could admit to that sentimentality.

Senku pushed through the door into Hiroto’s room. Soft afternoon light fed through the large window, highlighting a little bump on the large bed that was swallowed up in blankets and a mountain of pokemon plushies. It was a tad bit obsessive, but, considering their Dad was away, and the surgery had been particularly major, Senku had figured the whole protective wall of toys was a better alterative than tears and trauma. Senku set his bag down on a chair and hoisted himself up onto the bed, jostling it about.

He removed several of the toys, a Phanpy that Yuzuriha had gifted Hiroto, and one of the many Eevees.

Hiroto’s tiny little hand slipped out from the blankets, searching for the lost pressure of his beloved toys.

Pale pearly skin, a mirror reflection of his own.

Genetic abnormalities, the two of them. Even the holes in their hearts had been genetic flaws. Perfect machines, the human body was so wonderfully—perfectly designed—that altering the code could damage a heart so bitterly from birth.

Byakuya Ishigami had been walking the children’s ward again late one night and found little Hiroto. Unwanted. No hope. Byakuya Ishigami was in the business of giving hope.

Senku tucked a knee under his chin.

Science was amazing.

Science had allowed humanity to patch up two damaged hearts.

Or maybe three—

He smiled.

He supposed, in a way, by trying to heal him and Hiroto, Byakuya had healed himself.

“Senku…” Hiroto rubbed wearily at his soft pink eyes. “I’m tired.”

“I know, bud. It’s the wacky drugs.” Senku glanced at the intravenous drip hanging by the bed. From just squinting at the words scrawled on the side of the bag, he could tell it held several sedative qualities.

“Can you…stay with me?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Senku reached into his bag, dragging out his laptop. “Got some good news.”

“Dad’s coming home?” Hiroto perked up, hugging a Piplup tightly.

“Ah. No. Dad’s still in space, but we can talk to him, in space! Get excited!”

It was really awkward timing, the whole astronaut space trip thing, but it wasn’t like he could blame Byakuya on the timing of the trip. When space called—space called—and he couldn’t ever deny Byakuya the chance to go into space. Byakuya would be there for Hiroto’s graduations, his wedding, his first kid, and all that shite—but their old man only had one more chance at space.

This was the gift they could give Byakuya, because Byakuya had given them both a chance.

Hiroto rolled around, giving a huff of annoyance. “I hate space.”

“Funny, yesterday you said you loved space so much you wanted to go there right now.” Senku set his laptop down on the nearby tray table, ready for the linkage.

“Space took Dad away.”

“We talked about this, Hiroto. We’re being brave, so that Dad can fulfill his dream.”

“But my chest hurts, and Dad always makes me feel better.”

“I know, bub.” Senku brushed at Hiroto’s stringy white hair. “Want to make origami with me while we wait for Dad’s call? It would be nice to give something to the nurses, to say thank you for taking such good care of you.”

Hiroto nodded. “I can help.”

After setting up the laptop to wait for the very long-distance call, Senku swung himself onto the foot of the hospital bed, pulling out assortments of coloured papers. Origami was a peaceful pastime he’d picked up very early on in life, it had eased the chaos that had been—well—

A very manic environment he hadn’t been able to control.

The order of origami had given him back control.

As he worked, Hiroto every so often held out his own wonky little flowers for him to inspect.

“Perfect.” Senku praised. “The nurses will love them.”

“Do you…do you think Dad is having fun?” Hiroto asked.

“You know Dad, he’s capable of having fun no matter where he is. Remember that time we went camping, and all it did was rain.”

Hiroto crinkled his nose up. “Oh yeah! That was heaps of fun!”

Senku smiled. “See, you only remember how fun it was, not the dreadful weather.”

“But you and Dad made a mud slide and we got so dirty!”

Senku laughed. “We did.”

“It was the best.” Hiroto stuck out his tongue as he focused on his flower.

He was glad that was what Hiroto remembered. Senku glanced down briefly at his arm and the thin, pale skin. That camping trip had triggered one of his longest hospital stays. Byakuya was good at blaming himself for it, but really, there wasn’t much more that could be done about his heart, other than a full transplant he supposed.

But he wasn’t at end stage heart failure yet, and it was unlikely he ever would be—he could simply never push himself—never go beyond the limits set by the roll of nature’s dice that hadn’t been in his favor.

He’d never—

Never get—

To—

Space—

Senku jostled at the jingling tone of the laptop. Hiroto scrambled up in excitement. “Dad! Dad! Dad!”

Bending over, Senku flicked at the screen, receiving the call. The image flickered and splintered with pixels before finally settling into a boxy reception, but a good enough view of their father.

“Yo!” Byakuya waved. “How are my boys?”

“Dad! Guess what! I get to go home tomorrow!” Hiroto burst out. “The hole in my heart is all better! I am like Senku now! It’s fixed!”

Senku managed a small smile. Yep. All fixed. Totally.

Byakuya bobbed about, clapping his hands. “Such wonderful news! You’ve been such a trooper, Hiroto. I am so incredibly proud of you.”

Hiroto nodded. “I’m proud of me too. Is my Pikachu still okay?”

Senku hid his laugh. There it was, asking about the plush toy.

Byakuya took it seriously and held up the toy that he had wasted precious weight on. “He’s loving space!”

“I love space too!” Hiroto grinned.

Oh—

Oh, did he now? Fickle brat.

“I know you both do. We’re Ishigami. We’re born for the stars.” Byakuya grinned. “You’re doing great, bub. I know it’s been hard, going through this big operation, but you’ve been so brave.”

“Senku did it, I can do it.” Hiroto squared his shoulders.

“That’s the spirit. Alright, well, to celebrate the wonderful news of your recovery, I’ve got you your own private space concert with the famous Lillian Weinberg!”

An American woman appeared on screen, squishing up against their father to fit in the view. Her mountain of blond hair was stiff and chaotic against the gravity, causing Hiroto to laugh. Picking up the amusement, Lillian bobbed her head around, making her hair dance, and Hiroto dived into Senku’s lap, dissolving into giggles.

“Waow, he’s adorable.” Lillian beamed.

“I am not!” Hiroto protested.

Byakuya chuckled. The Pikachu plush just kept floating around in the background, every so often Byakuya would nudge it.

“He knows English?” Lillian gasped.

Senku gave his hand vague wobble. “He’s six, it’s basic.”

“What Senku thinks is basic, tends to be other people’s genius.” Byakuya offered, as if translating. “So, yes, both my boys speak English.”

Senku rolled his eyes at the proud father act the man was giving off.

“Do you know the Pokemon song?!” Hiroto asked.

“From the first movie?” Lillian rubbed her chin.

Hiroto nodded.

“Sure I do, sweetie. I can sing that for you.” Lillian’ smile was sweet. Senku tried to ignore the way his father’s head tilted at her, and his pupils dilated. Ick. Really. Really?

Alright—

Whatever—

Hiroto’s delight at the song soon turned into exhaustion and Lillian’s sweet, warm voice drifted down into a final note. Senku tucked a blanket around Hiroto.

“Is he going to be okay?” The woman inquired, more to his father than to him.

“He’ll be fine. I wouldn’t have left them if I wasn’t hundred percent confident in his full recovery.”

That was true. Byakuya would have given up on space—and therefore never met this woman who was probably going to be their new mother if he was reading any of the body language right.

Her lips pressed into a very thin line. Senku smirked. Ah. There it was, the quintessential feminine irk that came out when sick kids were involved in something.

“You can never be a hundred precent sure of anything.” She huffed. “You left both your boys alone to come to space.”

“Yep.” Byakuya grinned. “They told me too.”

Senku laughed. “To be fair on him, we did. It was a mutual family decision.”

“We don’t do anything without a family discussion.” Byakuya held up a finger.

Lillian giggled. “Well then, I’ll leave you two to your family discussion.” She waved. “It was lovely to finally meet you, Senku. You and Hiroto are basically all Byakuya has talked about for six months during training.”

Senku inclined his head. “You as well, Miss. Weinburg.”

Byakuya watched her leave before swinging around to face the camera again. “So?”

“So, what?” Senku stuck his pinkie in his ear idly.

“What do you think?”

“You’re an old pervert.”

Byakuya ignored him. “Do you like her?”

“She’s literally all I have heard about for six months, Dad. I think you were more excited about finding a mate than space.”

“Er. Maybe.”

Senku gave a chuckle. At least the man was honest.

“Space is amazing though. Can’t wait for you to get up here.” Byakuya breathed out, his gaze seeming to shift to a window.

Senku’s shoulders dropped. “Dad. You know—”

“Hey. I want none of that defeatist attitude from you. I never would have imagined being my age, finding a pretty girl, having two amazing sons, and being in space. Senku, life has a way of surprising the shite out of you. Let it surprise you. Remember, hope is the product of endurance.”

Senku swallowed the uncomfortable pain his throat and nodded.

“You have endured a lot, bud.” Byakuya floated forward, taking the camera. “So keep hoping. Never give up hope. Promise me that.”

“You know I don’t like sentimental tripe.”

“Promise.”

“Gah. Fine. I promise.” Senku blew a rasp.

Byakuya clapped his hands. “So, how is school?”

Bleh. That was an awful parental question. Senku dropped his head back in annoyance. Even from space, a parent was still being a parent.

“About as asinine as usual.” Senku tugged on his ear.

Byakuya sighed. “You don’t have to attend, you know, you could—”

“Dad, let’s not have this conversation again. I’m fine where I am. I don’t care about advancing or shite.”

“Don’t swear in front of Hiroto.”

Senku glanced down at his brother, curled up tight and asleep from exhaustion. “Ah ha.”

“I got a message from Dr. Wingfield.”

Senku puffed back his bangs. What was it about certain personality types and their desire to control people. It was such rot.

“He thinks you’re wasting your potential, being an ordinary school student.”

Rubbing his face, Senku took a stabilizing breath. No. Refocus. He couldn’t get emotional. “Dr. Wingfield is an arsehole and a creep, and all he is out for is to use those under him for his own credit and benefit. He is not a scientist, he is an industrialist. Worse. He might end up in Silicon Valley.” Senku shivered in horror. “I’m not aiming for Silicon Valley, I’m aiming at the Moon, and Mars and beyond.”

It might have been an impossible dream, with his health condition, but hell would he put himself in a position underneath someone who would stifle that dream.

Byakuya nodded. “Alright. Fair assessment. If you don’t wish to associate with him, then I won’t force it. You carve your own path, Senku.” Byakuya glanced around at a shout and he pouted. “Ah. So, apparently, I’m taking up precious bandwidth. I gotta go. Sorry, bud.”      

“Nah. All good.”

“You sure you’re fine with Hiroto?”

“I hired a nanny. I’m not an idiot.”

The look he received told him otherwise.

Senku pouted. “Okay, you know what, sometimes when it comes to people, I am a bit nerfed.”

“A bit?”

“Goodbye, Dad.”

“I love you!” Byakuya mockingly called out.

Senku cut the connection, rolling his eyes. The man could really play it up when he had an audience. He was so charismatic. It was no wonder he was getting smoochy with that American singer.

Senku halted that thought.

Oh—

Ew—

Scrub that—

Scrub it—

He flopped back onto the hospital bed, curling up beside Hiroto to take a deep, solid breath. He supposed even he couldn’t stop the collision of two people meeting, and the corresponding reactions thereafter.

He smiled, closing his eyes.

It wouldn't be so bad, adding someone else to the family. Dad deserved the happiness.

He startled awake.

Segumi looked down at him over the top of a clipboard. “Sorry, Senku, I was just checking Hiroto’s vitals.”

Senku sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Whoa. He’d fallen asleep. He looked to the window, staring out at the evening. Whoops. He needed to get back to the apartment to—er—clean—

He really didn’t want the nanny coming into the house tomorrow to find all his experiments lying everywhere. That’d be awkward.

“It’s okay Segumi. I need to get home.” He quickly packed up his laptop.

The nurse held out his jacket to him.

“You sure you don’t want to stay the night? We can just roll out a bed for you.”

Senku shook his head. “I have things I need to organize at home.” He brushed at Hiroto’s hair and tucked the blanket tighter around him. Okay. Good. He was fine.

Segumi held out an envelope. “Here is a note for your school about your absentee tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He bowed. “I will be back to discharge him in the late afternoon, is that adequate.”

He received a nod. “Be careful on your way home, Senku.”

0000

It was late and Senku hadn’t eaten since lunch. Thankfully, he knew the location of every vending machine within and nearby the hospital, and their different assortment of goods. Standing outside in the parking lot, under the glow of a streetlamp, Senku glared at the coffee can in his hand.

He had not selected this coffee drink, and yet, it was what his favorite machine had spat out at him. Obviously, the numbering system had been altered. He couldn’t drink anything caffeinated.

Senku took a dismissive glance at the teen on the bench by vending machine. The school uniform was different than his. Reika High, a prestigious school for athletics. Interesting. Taiju had been accepted into that school, but the loveable oaf he was and ended up choosing to follow him and Yuzuriha. It was probably for the best. Taiju’s nature was one of passivism, he’d have been eaten alive in a competitive sports environment.

Senku held out the coffee can. “I can’t drink this. Do you want it?”

The teen looked up through the long dreads of his abundant hair. Almost like a thick mane. Senku bit back the ball of jealously in his gut. Oh—to have hair that nice, and that tinted with melanin, and skin that tanned, and muscles that thick, and bones not brittle and breakable—

And probably a heart that wouldn’t cark it at even a fraction of physical stress.

It was hard to not be jealous of such amazing stamina.

“Thanks.” A large hand took the can.

Senku shrugged and turned back to the vending machine. Right—this time—this time it would give him the right drink. He smacked it. A soft, warm chuckle came from the teen on the bench.

Senku tipped his head around, arching an eyebrow at the guy. “Problem?”

“Nope.” The giant hulk sipped the coffee.

The vending machine pinged, and the juice dropped down. Senku beamed. Yes. Success. He happily bounced to the bench, plonking himself down beside the giant to tuck into his vending machine meal of crisps and juice.

“You here for someone?” His fellow bench mate asked.

“Little brother. You?”

“Little sister.”

Senku nodded.

“You don’t look all that great yourself.”

“That obvious, is it?” Senku glanced back at the guy, annoyed by the assessment.

“I’m a professional athlete.” He said, as if it was supposed to give him any sort of credentials. An eyebrow was arched at him. “You’re barely able to stand.”

Senku shrugged. “That’s life. It is shite. You get on with living and don’t complain about the lottery number the universe spat out at you.” He glanced down at his trembling hands wrapping up the empty crisp bag. “I fundamentally believe that everything can be eventually solved through the wonders of science. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday…”

Hope was endurance and endurance was hope.

Senku hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “Best wishes to your sister.” He stepped out of the light into the encroaching night, leaving the highschooler on the bench behind.

0000

It had been a whirlwind week and Senku was rather glad to find himself back in the science laboratory at the end of the day, working on his project for the school science fair. The world was easier to process when he was focused on something.

He winced as he heard the door of the classroom slam open and Taiju’s distinct voice boomed out. “Alright Senku! I’m going to do it! I really, really am—”

Taiju cut himself off.

“Er…why is Hiroto here?” Came the confused splutter.

“Hi Taiju!” Hiroto burst out. Senku heard the stool Hiroto was standing on squeak as his little brother bounced around happily.

“Er. Hi Hiroto…Senku! Why is Hiroto here?”

“I heard you the first time, you big oaf.” Senku placed a tool down and carefully eased himself out on the old skateboard he was using to roll beneath the engine he was building. “The nanny had a family emergency, so, she dropped him off at the school at midday. That’s why I left class for a bit.”

Taiju did his loud gasp of shock.

“I had fun with the teachers!” Hiroto beamed.

Taiju held out his hands at Senku. Taiju was a very expressive guy. Did a lot of his talking with his body movements and hand gestures. Senku was positive it was one of the reasons by Yuzuriha liked him. “You’re telling me he spent the afternoon in the teacher’s lounge.”

“It was better than going home.” Senku wiped his oily hands on a towel. “It’s fine. The faculty are all aware of the situation. Sometimes irregularities accrue, and you simply must adapt. They just gave him some algebra to do. You had fun with that, didn’t you, Hiroto?”

“Yep!” Hiroto flung up his hand, only to wince and grip his chest.

“Careful, bud.” Taiju worried. “Don’t reopen those stiches.”

“They don’t use stitches anymore.” Hiroto shook his head. “I got glued up!”

Taiju cringed. “I don’t want to know.”

Senku held out a glass flask. “So, want this love potion I made? If you drink it, Yuzuriha will find your pheromones irresistible.”

Taiju snatched up the flask and dumped the contents into the nearby sink. “I don’t need something like that. Our love is true.” His chest inflated and he squared his shoulders as he thumped his way back out of the science lab.

Senku chuckled, shaking his head.

Several of his club fellows gathered around the sink in despair. “Aw, we could have totally used that.” One of them bemoaned.

He looked at them all in dull horror. “Ah, guys, it was just gasoline I created from bottle caps.”  He motioned at the motor he was making. Really—shouldn’t it have been obvious? Couldn’t they smell it?

“What?” Sanji—president of the science club, because Senku really hadn’t wanted that responsibility—spluttered out a protest. “Why would you give it to an idiot like Taiju! What if he had consumed it?”

Senku removed his googles and gloves, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Taiju would never take the easy way out.”

Their small group had shifted attention to the windows overlooking the schoolyard and the scene below. Senku shook his head in amusement at their gossiping. He hoisted Hiroto off his stool. “Want to get a drink?”

Hiroto nodded.

“I bet she total rejects him.” Sanji laughed.

“Oh yeah, totally. Yuzuriha has way more class, she’d never go for such a dense guy.” One of the others chimed in.

Senku arched an eyebrow as he leant on the doorframe. “Nah, they’re ten billion percent into each other. It’s super obvious. You’re all the dense ones.”

Sanji scoffed. “Yuzuriha is way too smart, and beautiful, for a jock like Taiju. She could do way better.”

“Your bias is hanging out, Sanji, careful.” Senku waved as he heaved open the door and nudged Hiroto out.

“Yeah, well, not everyone gets special privileges like you do, Senku. Some of us work for our position.” Sanji called back. “We don’t all have Space-Dad’s and government grants that let us kiss teacher’s arses.”

“Must be nice,” Senku poked his head back around the doorframe, “living with so much free room in your head that you can be that jealous. Go do some science!” He gave a mock salute and happily skipped off. Hiroto bounced after him, giggling as he twirled through the legs of several students.

“Senku, can we go watch the volleyball?” Hiroto asked, catching up with him and grabbing his hand.

“Sure. I think the team is in the gym today.” He rounded a corner, finding the vending machine in the student lounge, Hiroto selected a juice and he checked over the contents briefly before handing it down to him. Taking his own favorite—totally not caffeinated—drink he headed idly into the hall and glanced down into the school yard.

His brow crinkled.

What was Taiju doing?

A dance?

Oh no—

What was the big oaf up too—

Wait—

No—

What the fuck—

Light?

Green light—

The can in his hand slipped out, clanking, chattering, spilling across the floor. Senku breathed in. Move. Think. Do. Action.

He crouched and grabbed Hiroto, hoisting him up.

“Don’t look at it!” He pressed his brother’s head firmly into his chest. Hiroto curled around him, arms tight around his neck. Senku glanced at Taiju and Yuzuriha in the yard below, the green light was like eerie visible radiation leaking around them. It was moving through the walls, ceiling and floors of the school.

Several of his classmates began to run.

“Don’t run!” He shouted.

Ahead of him he caught a glimpse of a figure hitting the floor and shattering.

He inhaled.

And his world went black.

Chapter Text

Senku exhaled.

Air.

He choked, gasped and struggled against an oppressive weight that was—

Reality.

Numbers echoed in his head.

No—

No—

He didn’t need to count anymore.

Senku curled his nails downward, feeling soft soil. His vision blurred, but, hazed by that blurriness was blue sky, dotted with flaky white clouds, and the shimmer of crystal sunlight glinting against bright green leaves.

The air—

It made his lips buzz.

It was so fresh. He’d never tasted air so sweet and thick, it may as well been a liquid.

The numbers still echoed in his mind, counting, flipping—one—after—the—other.

Shite—

It was going to take a while for his mind to reset. It’d been a very long time.

First thing first—

Where was he? What had changed? He could smell earthy scents, and hear the creaking of tree branches, and feel the heat of sunbeams against his skin. He shouldn’t lie here long.

Though—

How long had he been lying here feeling like a statue even though he had been freed from the stone prison. He shifted. His limbs were intact. Good. Nothing was broken. He was unharmed. Senku crinkled his brow. No—that was odd—he felt oddly amazing.

Better than he’d ever felt.

His heartbeat was solid. It didn’t feel like it was fluttering or struggling.

“Oh—” Senku raised a trembling hand to his mouth. What had happened?

Possibilities filled his mind. The sparrows he’d been researching—so—it had been some sort of phenomenon after all. But that didn’t make sense. Something that only effected humans and one species of bird.

Senku breathed in deeply, smiling.

This was nice. He was in the middle of a dense forest, and his heart didn’t feel like it was going to give out on him. Hopefully it wasn’t temporary. Gosh—he hoped it wasn’t temporary.

Suddenly—

His world pivoted.

Wait—

Hadn’t he been holding Hiroto.

Was that the weight he was feeling?

Senku snapped upright. Stone flakes fell all around him, cracking and shattering as he moved sharply. He shook off the stone fragments from the tiny, huddled up body curled around his shoulders and chest.

“Hiroto!” Senku felt for a pulse. “Please…please…come on.”

Oh—thank goodness—it was there—as strong and solid as his own.

Had they broken out of their rock tomb together? He frowned at the cracked remains beneath him, holding one up to the sky. It was worn down, weathered, and curiously, smooth on the inside. Now that was very interesting. He filed that information away.

“Senku…”

He jostled, startled at the voice. Hiroto was rubbing at his eyes. “Owe…what…what happened? Where are we?”

“I cannot entirely articulate what occurred, but, I do believe we were entombed in stone for three thousand seven hundred and twenty one years, two months, two days, four hours and fifty five minutes and forty seconds…forty one…forty…two…”

Senku sighed, nursing his head. He hoped the counting eased off.

“Senku…are you…okay?”

He startled, jostling sharply. What?

Hiroto was shaking him.

Crap—had he faded into counting?

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” He assured. “Ah. You know, we should…move around…yeah.”

They might have woken up out of their stone-slumber during early summer—when he’d hoped—but being butt naked was still dangerous in a world they knew nothing about. Hiroto’s stomach choose that moment to give a very dissatisfied grumble.

Senku sighed. “Yeah, sorry, bud. Don’t think there are going to be any vending machines left.”

“Ramen?”

“Ah. You know…er…I’ll work on that.”

Senku looked around their new world.

First things first—

He had to work out how they’d survive their first night. There was no telling what predators had established themselves after three thousand years. Right now, he could think of several things he didn’t want to run into, first one being a pack of wild dogs.

They needed water, food, some basic clothing for protection, and a basic camp—then he could revaluate. Senku breathed in deeply and heaved himself up. He wasn’t Taiju. This wasn’t going to be easy. He’d never been the guy who did the heavy lifting. Even Yuzuriha had always known to grab something heavy for him, his two best friends had come to do it on instinct until he’d accepted it.

“Senku!” Hiroto was bouncing around on the moss. “The ground is squishy!”

“Yeah. Would appear we landed in an area with a lot of bryophyta.”

Rather fortunate for them, and he wasn’t going to question the luck on having his stone body cradled safe and snuggly by natures cushions.

“Bryo-whaz-it?”

“Moss,” Senku stressed.

Hiroto flopped onto the moss and Senku winced at his little pale naked butt facing the sky. “Just say moss.”

“No.” Senku studied his arms and clenched his fists. He wasn’t just imagining it. He really did feel radically improved on a physical level. This had to be tested. He needed to physically exert himself. Looking out at their surrounds, he pulled a disgusted face. Yeah. Okay. He’d find out soon enough if this miracle was real or not.

His skinny arse wasn’t made for this sort of labour.

“Senku!”

“Yeah.” He swept back his bangs. His hair tie was gone. Annoying.

Hiroto had wiggled up like a worm and was now standing in front of him. “Look! My scary scar is all fixed.”

Senku’s head snapped up. It was what? He stared at Hiroto’s chest.

The medical bindings that had strapped up his chest, covering the surgical wound from the open-heart operation were gone, just like their clothing. What remained was the oddest of cracked lines. Senku reached out, brushing his fingers at the soft pale skin. Flakes of stone chipped away.

So—

The petrification hadn’t been entirely undone. Fascinating. Hiroto’s hand reached out and Senku smiled as his own old surgical scar down the centre of his chest was poked at. “Does yours hurt still?” Hiroto whispered. “Dad said it hurt you lots, it made me scared I’d hurt too.”

That tugged on something in him. Crap. He’d tried to hide it, but he supposed he hadn’t been a good enough liar in the end, that or, it really was true that kids could see micro-expressions better than adults. He was inclined to believe that. He’d never wanted his experience to influence Hiroto. Everyone responded differently to the wonders of science.

Senku shook his head. “I’ll be okay, bud. Everyone is different, that’s what is great about humans.” Senku hoisted himself up. “Come on, I’ve got an idea for some clothes.”

“I like being naked!” Hiroto burst out happily, bouncing away, seemingly enjoying this entire scenario. Senku really wondered how long it was going to take for the realisation to hit the kid. No more pokemon. No more crisps or soda-pop.

Civilization had collapsed—

Their father—

“Well, I don’t.” Senku gave his stiff neck a crack. It sounded like stone grinding. Interesting.

“No one can see us.” Hiroto spun around. “My butt is free.”

“Ultra-violet rays can see your butt, and they will burn it.” He wiggled his hands about, playfully chasing after his little brother.

Hiroto gasped, slapping hands against his butt. “No! I don’t want my butt burned.”

Senku grinned. Ah, too easy.

00000

Senku studied the clay dishes he’d made. They were so raw and basic it was painful to even look at them. He’d tried—he’d really tried—but he just wasn’t good with his hands. He could draw up a complicated schematics and design intricate origami no problem, but when it came to crafting and moulding, making something practical look beautiful, he was rather hopeless.

Hiroto had added cute little details to the clay dishes though, which did give him hope that his little brother was a little more artistically inclined than he was.

With a sigh he eased himself down by the stream and idly began washing the dishes from their morning meal. Routine was important in a situation like this. Maintaining basic human decency was important. He couldn’t forget what he was striving for.

Science.

And science meant—

Washing dishes.

Because washing dishes meant there was less risk of getting sick if they kept up good hygiene.

The dishes meant nothing the moment he heard Hiroto’s ear-piecing scream. Senku dropped the first clay pot. It shattered. He turned and bolted, snatching up his wooden spear. What—what was it—

It’d been five months and four days since they’d woken, and he was managing—barely—with basic traps to catch rabbits. Fire had been his biggest hurdle until he’d realized he’d been tackling it like a Neanderthal. Idiot. He had access to tools.

This was it though, his biggest fear—

The reason he’d built their shelter in a tree.

Senku ran into the clearing and froze.

Dogs.

Crap—

Eight of them.

He’d never wanted to shout for Taiju so badly before.

But he was alone.

Completely—

Alone—

In a stone world.

The vicious, ferocious creatures ripped and clawed at their shelter with murderous intent. They hadn’t even noticed him.

They’d never encountered humans before.

He had that advantage.

He’d prepared for this.

“Don’t run…” he whispered. “Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.”

That would be the end of him. He could not run. He could not falter. He had to face them. Slowly he reached into his pouch, tugging out the tool he’d fashioned for just this moment. He raised it and swung it. The bamboo shoot attached to the string released a piercing shriek as he twirled it in the air above his head. For the briefest moment, he had a horrible thought that it wasn’t going to work, that they’d rush him, but a single beat later the eight blurs of grey and brown fur tore back into the surrounding forest.

Senku dashed for the ladder, scrambling into the shelter. Hiroto was curled up tightly in the corner, covered by the mossy blanket he’d fashioned for the boy. Blood—there was blood over the floor—

“Hiroto! Hiroto! Where are you hurt?” Senku dragged back the blanket.

This was bad. He wasn’t prepared to treat anything this significant. A feral dog—it could have rabies—though—Japan had been rabies free for decades—no—hang on—did—did that matter three-thousand years into the future? What had changed? Had the disease returned?

What was he thinking?

 Even if Japan’s dog population had remained isolated, a dog bite was ripe for infection. Senku pealed back the torn leather of Hiroto’s crudely made pants and he almost sagged in relief. It wasn’t a bite. Fuck. It wasn’t a bite. It was a clawing. It was still bad, but it wasn’t as bad as a bite. He could manage this. He could. Right. He could. Hiroto sobbed as Senku studied the torn paper-thin skin of his little leg. Okay—okay—it hadn’t sliced any major artery. He was just going to have to work on keeping out infection—and fucking hope the dog wasn’t a carrier of some futuristic disease he had no knowledge of that incubated through scratches.

“I’m going to die…” Hiroto sobbed.

“No.” Senku lifted him. “Don’t be silly. You’re going to be fine. I promise. Science can fix this. I can fix it. Come on. Let’s go to the beach.” It was a long hike, but he’d manage it. Senku offered his back to Hiroto.

“The beach?”

“The salt water will help, then I’ll wrap it up with seaweed.”

“Seaweed? Really?”

“Yep. Seaweed.” Senku assured. “Nature has provided us with all we need.”

And it had.

All he needed was to figure out a way to extract it.

00000

Senku stared at the stars through the hole in the ceiling of their shelter. Never had he seen such a clear view of the night sky, not even when Byakuya had taken them camping had the stars looked so vibrant and inviting. The sight of their shimmering wonder coiled up a disturbing loneliness that clenched his chest tight and constricted his airways. The world echoed now. Echoed with an endless click of numbers flipping over—over—over—over—

He was so tired.

He couldn’t close his eyes without the darkness lighting up with numbers.

When would they fade?

It had been months now.

Senku brushed a hand over the scar down his chest. Think of something else, focus beyond the numbers. Why—how—had his heart been repaired? What had transpired in the time he’d been petrified that had fixed what medical science could not fix. His finger traced his scarring, following the odd pattern up around behind his neck to the stiffness that remained there. He automatically cracked his neck to relieve the building tension and the annoying pain eased a little. There was a hypothesis he had—but it was crazy and totally radical.

 What if the petrification had filled in the tiny fissures within his heart that the doctors hadn’t been able to sow together. What if, for once in his life, blood was finally pumping and flowing correctly through the right chambers. He was finally receiving the right amount of oxygenated blood, his organs weren’t starving, his muscles weren’t cramping.

It was all because—

He had a solid heartbeat.

“Dad…” Senku looked back at the stars. “I wish you could hear it.”

He wondered if, right now, he and Hiroto were the only two human hearts beating upon the whole of planet Earth. It was an overwhelmingly daunting thought.

Hiroto had survived the dog clawing. It had been a terrifying, stressful month of wound treatment, but, Senku was now rather certain that Hiroto was out of the woods. It’d be an anxious year, waiting for any symptoms of old-world diseases, but, after tracking down the dogs to study them he was pretty confident that none of them looked at all rabid.  

But the whole situation had confirmed one thing in Senku’s mind.

He needed Taiju.

He could not do this on his own.

Senku curled up, fighting off the overwhelming crush of emotions, but it didn’t matter, the tears scorched his cheeks anyway and he covered his mouth to quieten his sobbing.

He was so tired.

So alone.

He’d almost lost the one thing Byakuya had entrusted him with.

Man really wasn’t made to face the world alone.

Man needed a friend.

So that was that—

It was time to find Taiju.

Chapter Text

They’d found Yuzuriha in their second month free from the stone. Hiroto had been ecstatic, and it had taken Senku some time to explain that no, he could not wake her up, which had led to tears—lots of tears—and the eventual full emotional realisation finally hitting Hiroto that they were truly alone.

Byakuya was gone. 

Hiroto didn’t speak for several days after finding Yuzuriha, then, one morning, his little brother had simply smiled and followed him to collect mushrooms, asking questions about their surrounds as if the world was normal once more and they were taking a simple stroll. He supposed that was the elasticity of being a kid.

Yuzuriha was their starting point.

She had not moved from her position for over three thousand, seven hundred years. It was remarkable. It caused the itchy, emotional part of his brain to feel comfort that made his toes curl up in his rabbit leather shoes.

The camphor tree, once a fond shade spot in their school yard, had grown to be enormous around Yuzuriha, cradling her like she was a princess, trapped in an eternal slumber from some video game, or a cheesy movie.

Senku propped a hand on his hip. “Yeah, well, I’m not the right prince…” He chuckled. “And I don’t think a kiss would work in this scenario.”

He paused, looking up through the camphor’s wide, arching branches, covered in deep, thick moss and sprouting layers of ferns and grasses. Beneath the thick canopy, the air was cool, the leaves almost appearing black against the tickle of sunlight that glinted upon their shiny surfaces. Senku closed his eyes, tasting the dampness in the air as his feet crushed the moss and decomposing soil. He could almost believe that there truly was an ancient spirit dwelling within the great tree that cradled Yuzuriha. It was completely illogical and irrational, but even he could let himself fall into the wonderous moment when wind rustled leaves, and cool air tickled the neck to goose the flesh.

 His lips parted in a soft sigh. “Well, I suppose whole world was turned to stone, don’t know how much more fantastical one can get, really. Maybe I did accidentally sidestep into an alternate reality that embraces fantasy.”

That was an overwhelming thought.

What if this was an alternative reality.

What if that green light had phase shifted them all into a different universe, and being turned to stone was the only way they could travel safely between dimensions. Did that mean Byakuya and all the other astronauts had been left stranded? Or had they been caught up in the green ray too? Either way, it was an ill fate for his father. He was dead either way. The International Space Station would never have survived in orbit this long.

Unlike this beautiful tree, their man-made marvels had long crumbled and shattered against the assault of time and the will of nature. It made him feel so insignificant.

Senku huffed. He had no viable way right now to tell if this was his Earth.

So he’d just have to work on the assumption that it was, and hope he wasn’t royally fucked with the directions.  

“Fucking old tree.” He arched an eyebrow.

Hiroto ran up to him, and toddling along behind him on a leash was one of many leather and grass stuffed creations that Hiroto called his pokemon. They looked more like monsters than the original pocket monster’s ever had. His little brother held up a daisy chain. “Look, I made it for Yuzuriha. Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Er. Sure.” Senku heaved his little brother up, helping him climb the twisted, mangled roots until he reached her. Hiroto settled the daisy chain on her head to replace the pervious one from an earlier visit, and gave her a pat.

“Don’t worry, big sis, we’ll save you!”

Senku hoisted Hiroto down. “We will. With science, but first, let’s go find Taiju.”

“Yeah! Taiju! Taiju! Taiju!” Hiroto bounced away. Senku took up his spear and tracked after the brat.

He made an educated guess that Taiju was around the same area that he and Hiroto had been in, as there were many familiar petrified classmates scattered about. They spent most of the day checking, and by the late evening Senku could feel a tightness of worry beginning to grip his throat.

What if he wasn’t here?

What if the big oaf had been washed further downstream in the catastrophe that had caused them all to end up so far from their original position. By just looking at the walls of the cliffs, it was clear that an enormous rush of water had torn through the area in a terrifying flash, carving out the ground. How long ago this was, he couldn’t really say, but the oldest trees around him were all at least several hundred years old—and Yuzuriha’s Tree had survived whatever flood had accrued so, at the time, it must have been large enough to withstand the force of the water.

Senku sighed, leaning on his spear as he watched Hiroto dig around a hand sticking out of the ground. The sun was getting low. They were going to have to camp out tonight. He’d need to find a good tree to climb. Start this whole search again in the morning when he wasn’t feeling so worn out.

The weight of near on four thousand years felt heavier with each passing day. Senku held out a hand, studying the callouses and torn up skin he had to keep strapping. Even with the mud he kept coating himself and Hiroto with, they were getting burnt, so, he was growing careful, trying to keep their movements to the early mornings and later evenings, but this just reduced his working hours again.

Everything stung, everything hurt—everything—but his heart.

He was still horrendously weak, and he really doubted he’d ever be what someone considered strong or fit, but the fact that he could run without feeling like his chest was going to explode was incredible. He tightened his hand into a fist. The question of what that green light had been, and why it had petrified all humanity, he needed to know—

“Senku!” Hiroto’s shout startled him. “Senku! I found Taiju! I found him!”

Senku sucked in a sharp breath. Wait—really?

He ran, collapsing onto his knees beside the body Hiroto had been digging up. The face was partly revealed. Senku felt a sting against the edges of his eyes. A laugh bubbled out of him and Hiroto leapt into his arms, squealing in happiness.

“Taiju!”

“Yes!” Senku cheered. “Come on! Let’s get him out before sundown.”

“What are we going to do with him? How do we free him from the scary stone?”

Senku dug around the body quickly, ignoring the pain in his grazed fingers. “Remember that cave I took you too awhile back, the one we woke up nearby.”

Hiroto nodded. “It smelt so bad.”

“Why did it smell bad, do you remember what I told you?”

His little brother twisted up his nose.

“Come on. This is just like the memory game we’ve been playing with math, and the rocks, and the different trees and all the elements.”

“Because of poop.” Hiroto deadpanned seriously.

Well—

That wasn’t quite the answer he’d been looking for, but technically correct.

“Okay. You get half a point.” Senku held up a finger. “We’ll add it to your chart when we get back to camp.”

Yes.

He had made a chart, out of charcoal. Hiroto’s learning wasn’t going to backslide just because they were in the stone world.

Hiroto flopped onto the ground. “Aw!”

“The correct answer is bat guano. You need to be specific.”

Hiroto stuck out his tongue.

“This is important, Hiroto.” Senku studied the freed Taiju. “You were supposed to go back to school after you recovered from your operation, now that’s impossible, so, we’ll have to make do with me teaching you.”

“I know.” Hiroto grumbled. “Dad would have been better.”

Senku managed a sad smile. He wasn’t going to take that personally, because, it was true. Hiroto was different than he’d been—he’d absorbed information naturally and on his own, Byakuya hadn’t really had to worry too much about his love of learning as he’d simply gone out to learn.

Hiroto was smart—yes—but—he wasn’t much of a self-learner. He’d required a teacher, which had been a lot more work for their Dad. Senku smiled in warm recollection. Byakuya had known how to make learning fun. He could only hope that influence had rubbed off on him a little bit.

“Help me drag Taiju’s arse to the cave.”

“Why?”

How could he make this simple enough and yet still comprehensible. “Right…so…I think the reason why we broke out of the stone is because I was thinking the whole time, and the human brain requires fuel to function, so, over all those years, my thinking was drawing energy from the stone.”

 Hiroto nodded slowly as he got beneath Taiju’s legs and they shuffled along together, struggling through the undergrowth towards the cave.

“I think, and I’m just going off a hypothesis here, that the bat guano formed nitric acid in the ground, which helped break us free.”

“So, bat poo turns into magic!” Hiroto burst out.

“Er. No.”

“We’ll call it the Magic Cave!”

“Er. No.” Senku pulled a disgusted face.

“Miracle Cave!”

“Bit better.” Senku chuckled. It was a bit of a miracle, he supposed, that the nitric acid was dripping from the ceiling of the cave. Finally, they managed to drag Taiju into the foul-smelling cave. Hiroto dashed out again, collecting moss to pad around Taiju to project his body while it lay there upside down. Senku cracked his neck. Hopefully this way Taiju didn’t end up with a fucked-up neck. He crouched, watching as a drip of nitric acid splatted onto his friend’s neck. Yep. Perfect alignment.

“Come on…” he whispered, resting a hand against Taiju’s shoulder. “I need you. Come back to me. Please. You big oaf.”

Senku breathed in deeply, casting his gaze out into the low cast shadows shimmering through the forest. The evening was awash with the symphony of birds and chirping bugs. Slowly he eased back onto his feet, heading out into the cooler air of the dusk. Hiroto was making more daisy chains, adding them to statues, wishing each one a goodnight.

His little brother looked to him, smiling. “I want them to know they’re not alone in the darkness.” Hiroto shuffled his feet. “The darkness was so scary.”

His chest tightened. Senku padded across the damp forest floor, taking Hiroto’s hand. “It was scary.”

“You mean, you were scared too?”

“I was.” Senku nodded. “I still am.”

He could admit that. Perhaps not to anyone else, but to Hiroto, yes.

This was a completely different world.

A world where science was all he had to hold onto, and even then, he felt like he was reaching for the unobtainable stars. He chuckled, shaking his head. Near on four thousand years into the future, and he was still dreaming of space.

Senku clapped Hiroto playfully on the back. “Come on, let’s go find a tree to camp in.”

“Yeah! Tree camping! Let’s go Piplup!” Hiroto whooped. He skipped away, rattling the self-made pokemon toy along behind him on its leash.

Senku smiled at the sight.

000000

Hiroto swung himself down the bamboo pole from their treehouse, landing with a bounce and a roll. Okay! It was time to hunt some pokemon! Adventure time!

From above he heard his brother’s groggy shout.

“Don’t stray from the paths I’ve marked!”

“I know! I know!” Hiroto snatched up his pack from their equipment stand, looping the belt around his waist. He checked to see if his sling was there. It was, good. He needed to find some smooth stones for it, then he’d be able to practice his throws and show Senku how amazing his aim was getting.

“Hiroto! I’m being serious.” Senku’s head appeared over the edge of the treehouse, his eyes squinted shut, half asleep. He still had yesterday’s mud caked on his face. Hiroto hated the mud paste, it was so gross, but Senku made him slather it on everywhere, so the sun didn’t burn him.

“I know, Senku! I’m just going to the river to hunt for poki-balls! Then I’m going to check on Yuzuriha.” He called back as he headed for the path down towards the river.

“Be back by lunch!” Came Senku’s final shout through the trees.

Hiroto giggled. Senku would deny it, but he worried about things, especially chaos, and Hiroto liked to think he was all chaos. As difficult as the last seven months had been, they’d also been incredible—because—he’d been with his big brother, and Senku made the world so magnificent, and he also made it safe.

Senku had even spent time making him pokemon plushies so he could have a whole bed full of them to snuggle into at night. He’d named every single one of them, and they were his best friends. Sometimes the grass inside them got a bit deflated, so Senku had to restuff them.

His brother had never been good at crafting things, but he would try. He said that was what science was—trying—and trying again—and trying until something worked.

Like Edison’s lightbulb.

That had led to a really boring and long story about lightbulbs, but Hiroto just liked listening to Senku’s voice.

When Senku was around, it felt as if the impossible was possible. His brother would grin wildly when confronted with a problem and declare that it was time to get excited, and Hiroto would feel a tingle in his toes.

But—

But he had seen Senku in the darkness at night, looking out at the stars, and how sad he was. He must have missed Dad. He’d never, ever say it out loud, but Hiroto could see that loneliness etched into his brother’s face. Dad had been Senku’s rock. The person who’d told him to strive for the stars no matter his silly illness.

Hiroto slapped his hands to his hips. “I’ll have to be Dad now!” He burst out. “And tell Senku he can do it!”

He spent way to long searching for good rocks in the shallows of the stream. They had to be perfect poki-ball rocks. Senku had made him his sling after the whole wild-dog incident, not that it’d help much, but he felt safer with it. Senku’s weapon, the loud one that he spun around and around really fast and it shrieked, was still their best defence against the scarier animals. Senku didn’t like using it though, insisting that the more he used it, the less effective it became.

Hiroto picked up a nice rock, grinning at its soft, silken surface. He held it to the sky. Perfect rock. He would get stronger. He would protect Senku, so Senku didn’t have to worry anymore.

A twig snapped.

Hiroto dropped low in the shallows.

Dog?

The monkeys? Those unfriendly monkeys had been stealing their supplies lately. What if they’d finally become aggressive! Worse—

Hiroto froze—

What if it was a lion. They’d only heard the roaring, soft and distant, but they had heard it. Slowly he slinked his way out of the stream, crawling on his belly to shuffle across the grass and undergrowth. Senku had marked out the safe path back to camp very clearly with strips of red dyed bunny pelts. Make it there. Shuffle his little butt there. Shuffle. Shuffle.

“Hiroto!”

Hiroto startled. He rolled behind a tree, pinning himself against it as panic shot through him. He heaved in gasps of air as black dots dazed his vision.

A voice—

A voice that wasn’t Senku.

Who?

They knew his name?

His sling slipped down from his hand and he covered his mouth, trying to stop his rapid breathing.

Did he attack? What if they were evil! What if they wanted to hurt him!? Senku had once said that the scariest animal on earth was man.

“Hiroto. No. It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Taiju.”

Taiju!

Hiroto poked his head around the tree, squinting. In the motley light through the branches, Taiju’s strong frame stood out with an eerie starkness. Another human. Big globs of tears dripped down Hiroto’s cheeks. His legs moved. Happiness filled him with a burst of warmth that reddened his pale cheeks. He erupted into a run, throwing himself at Taiju who swept him up in a crushing hug. Oh—oh it was so cuddly! Like a teddy bear. Hiroto gripped his brother’s best friend tighter. It was so different than hugging Senku. He could hold Taiju as tight as he wanted and never worry that he’d hurt him.

“Hey, little bub.” Taiju cradled him gently as he wailed into his shoulder. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Taiju carefully set him down and crouched in front of him, rubbing at his cheeks to wipe away his globby tears. “What are you doing here, Hiroto?”

“Oh, me? I’m looking for poki-balls!” Hiroto proudly revealed his pouch of stones. “I will use them to protect Senku.”

“Senku is here!” Taiju burst out loudly.

Hiroto laughed, dragging Taiju up the path. “Of course he is. Come on! Come on! He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Taiju swept him up effortlessly and Hiroto pointed forward, whooping with glee as Taiju took up a swift pace. They were back to the camp in almost no time at all. Hiroto bounced down from Taiju’s arms.

“Senku! Senku!” He shouted.

He looked back at Taiju. The taller teen was stumbling a bit in his awe at their little home. Senku had worked hard to make it comfortable, though, his big brother had kept saying the word ‘practical’. Hiroto thought the treehouse was the best part, because it was fun! Senku had even made him a swing, and he was working on some high rope bridges so they could move around and store their supplies up in the trees with a pully-system without worrying about the dogs and the—

Well—

The lions.

But it was a lot of work for just Senku, sometimes, Hiroto found himself feeling very alone, because Senku worked so hard to look after them.

“Isn’t it amazing!” Hiroto flung out his arms.

“Yeah…it is…” Taiju whispered.

Senku rounded the large tree and Hiroto dashed up to him, grabbing his leather coat. “Senku! Look! Look! Look!” Hiroto bounced around. “It’s Taiju!”

Senku eased the basket he’d been carrying down gently and mopped at the sweat across his brow. He threw on a wild grin as he cracked his neck and just seemed to sag with enormous relief at the sight of Taiju.

“Se…Sen…Senku!” Taiju hollered in relief.

“So, today is the 5th of October 5738.” Senku rubbed at his eyes. “You overslept, you big jerk. Hiroto and I have been awake and working for more than half a year."

Taiju choked out. “How…how do you know the exact date?”

“Er. I counted.” Senku drawled.

Hiroto quickly sprung to the side as Taiju tackled Senku, hoisting him into the air and twirling him around.

“Oie, oie, nope!” Senku hollered. “I don’t need your nakedness near me, get off!”

Hiroto giggled. Taiju ignored his brother’s protesting and smothered him. By the small smile Senku was trying to hide, he wasn’t actually that upset, and his trembling hands curled tight around Taiju, burying into his skin.

0000

Senku leant on the large oak tree that formed the base of their camp. He’d chosen it because its branches were strong and spread out wide, well suited for the foundations of a tree-house. He watched Taiju finish tugging on the crude hide clothes he’d made for him, they weren’t anything fancy, but deep inside, he was a little bit proud of his skills—

He kind of hoped that someday, Yuzuriha would tell him he did okay with his sewing.

That’d be nice.

He drank in the sight of his best friend, every hair, every pore, the fascinating new fractures that the petrification had left behind. Just seeing Taiju up and walking made him a little lightheaded.

Another voice to drown out the numbers clicking over in his mind.

Thank goodness.  

“Wow, these are comfortable.” Taiju gushed enthusiastically at the clothing.

“No, they’re shite.” Senku scoffed. “And I would cheat on a test for some underwear.”

“Nah, there is something cool about going back to the basics, you know, feeling nature!”

Senku rolled his eyes at Taiju. Always the optimist.

“Right. Sure. Enjoy all this nature until you run into some poison ivy, or eat something that makes you crap for a week—”

Taiju’s stomach took that moment to rumble loudly.

Senku chuckled. “Come on,” he twirled on his feet, motioning with a nudge of his shoulder. “You’re just in time for lunch.”

“Lunch!” Taiju exclaimed. “Yes!”

He’d dug out a fire pit, dragged up rocks from the river, and made an allocated cooking area. They burnt through a lot of wood. It was one of his major frustrations, being surrounded by a forest, and yet incapable of gathering enough wood due to his frailness. But a low fire was really all they needed; it wasn’t yet winter. Taiju was with them now—they’d be fine for winter—

He didn’t have to worry.

They’d be okay.

They’d survive the freeze.

Hiroto was already frying up several gutted fish on a large hot rock.

“Whoa.” Taiju crouched down beside him. “These smells amazing.”

“I’m a great cook.” Hiroto proudly raised his chin. Senku ruffled the brat’s hair as he passed by.

“Anyone can be a great cook with some salt and herbs.” Senku drawled, thumping down on one of the logs.

“Which is why I am a great cook.” Hiroto retorted.

“You have salt! And herbs!” Taiju gushed.

“Sure.” Senku pulled out their roughly made clay plates, using a stick as a prong to dish out the fish and the wild potatoes.

“And potatoes!” Taiju held up his plate like it was some sort of offering. “Whoa.”

“We’re growing them.” Hiroto pointed across to their small little—very sad—vegetable patch.

“No way! Awesome!”

Taiju had a way of making everything seem so much more incredible than it really was. Senku really did appreciate that about the big oaf.

“They’re about all we can grow.” Senku sighed. “Let it be known, I suck at gardening.”

Taiju laughed. “I remember when you killed the class pet in grade three.”

“Hey, hey,” Senku jutted one of the carved chopsticks at his best friend. “I was trying to improve the quality of the soil!”

“You killed it.”

“Sacrifices have to be made in the name of science.” Senku scoffed.

“You killed a class pet?” Hiroto gasped.

“It was a dionaea muscipula.” Senku mumbled. “Wasn’t like I murdered a hamster like Botan did in grade five.”  

“What’s a dio..muscus?” Hiroto stuck out his tongue.

“Venus flytrap.” Senku lazily replied. “I wanted to see if I could make it grow bigger by increasing the fertilization in its soil. Ah. Apparently that’s incorrect and increased nitrogen burns their roots.”

“Brother, you’re weird.” Hiroto mumbled around a mouthful.

Senku grinned. “Has that ever been in doubt.”

Their meal was finished, the scraps dumped into the fire to burn away in the heat though Senku did idly salvaged some of the usable fish bones for needles, but he highly doubted either Hiroto or Taiju realised that was what he was doing. He wasn’t in the mood to explain either.

It was peak heat of the day, and there wasn’t really to much he could do other than cower in the shade. Hiroto tugged on his sleeve. “Can I practice?”

“Keep to the shade.” He nodded.

Hiroto scrambled up, running happily to their little designated practice area in the grass. Senku leant wearily on his knees, smiling at the warming sight of Hiroto fiddling about with his sling. The kid tried so hard, with so much vigour to strike the targets painted on the trees. He missed most of the time, but was improving.

“He’s getting better.” Senku mused. “Fascinating.”

Taiju frowned as Hiroto gave a whoop, having finally hit a target square centre. “What is it?”

Senku fished around in his own pouch, pulling out another sling and a smooth, bullet coned stone, showing it to Taiju. “It’s a Balearic Sling. I think I got the design right. I only saw it once during a museum trip Byakuya took me on. Apparently, if used right, you can get velocity for instant kill shots. The issue is getting the technique right.” Senku eased to his feet, heading towards Hiroto.

Hiroto pouted up at him and Senku smiled. “You’re getting better.”

“I can’t hit the targets very well.”

“That’s not really the point at the moment, it’ll take time for your brain to get used to the movement, but it will. Go stand next to Taiju.”

“Okay.” Hiroto dashed back to Taiju, landing in his lap.

Senku planted a foot back and began twirling the sling. It hissed and hummed, cutting the air, and a split second later, a snap echoed through the camp as the leather cracked and the smooth stone hit the target on the tree, splintering the wood.

Hiroto flung up his arms, jumping as he squealed in delight. Senku chuckled. Hiroto was a very enthusiastic supporter.

Senku looked back to Taiju and his stunned, wide jawed expression. “Something so simple makes someone like me immediately a threat, but, it has taken me nights of practice.”

“Oh, wow.” Taiju breathed in.

“I’ve been using it to hunt.” Senku handed the sling to him. “But I can’t carry much. I’ve been struggling to do just the bare minimum.”

Taiju arched an eyebrow at him and looked around the camp. “Yeah, you know, your idea of ‘bare minimum’ is a bit quacked.”

Senku sat back down beside him. “What I mean is, I’ve been focused on making sure Hiroto and I survive, I haven’t had a chance to focus on science.” He tapped the etchings on his face. “What was that green light, how did it petrify the whole of humanity, and is there any way to revive people.”

Taiju nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I get it. Well. I’m here now! You can focus on your science stuff, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting!” He slapped a hand to his chest. “Leave it to me!”

“Glad you’re back.” Senku smiled. “Now we’ve got brawn to our brain.” He looked down at Hiroto still flopped on the grass. “Get excited.”

Hiroto crinkled up his face tightly. “If Taiju is brawn, and you are brain…what I am?”

Senku ruffled Hiroto’s hair fondly. “You’re the heart.”

00000

Adapting to the stone world was tiring. Taiju was going to admit that. It was—or it had been—the joke around the school, that he’d had limitless stamina, and he was pretty much great at most sports as long as they weren’t played competitively, but he did get tired. He wasn’t some superhuman. He’d damaged his shoulder badly helping a classmate train for tennis one boring Saturday, and it’d taken months of rebab to move it without making it hurt, but he’d just laughed it off. He always tried to wear a smile, he never wanted to show how much his homelife had sucked. The nights he had gotten to stay over with Senku and his Dad had been a lifeline, like being given oxygen to live just a few more days as a kid.

He was sure that Byakuya had seen the bruising on his arms and neck, and it was probably the reason why his Mum had ended up being raided by the authorities several times, though nothing had ever really come of it. He presumed his mother was really good at bullshitting her way out of things. She had that personality type.

Taiju shifted in the grass padded bed beneath him.

He wondered where that woman was?

What had happened to her?

Had she survived all this, or was her stone body broken and shattered into pieces somewhere. Was it awful of him that he really didn’t care, and all he cared about was that Senku and Hiroto where safe with him, and he knew where Yuzuriha was.

His family.

Taiju sat up abruptly, a chill spilling down his spine as howling filled the night. It spiked every flight response his body had, and his muscles clenched tight to root him on the spot. The noises of the stone age forest were loud and scary, compared to the comforting tight world of concrete and metal he had left.

Senku’s hand pressed gently against his shoulder in the darkness. “It’s okay. It’s just the wild dogs.”

Wild dogs?

What—what wild dogs?

Senku’s hand slipped away. He heard his best friend shuffling up and the soft glow of the outside night world intruded into the small treehouse as he roped up the weaved netting that he used as a door. It was amazing that Senku had made everything he saw, on his own—sure Hiroto was with him—but that actually made it more incredible. Hiroto was six. He was still obsessed with Pokemon. Taiju paused—heh—actually—that didn’t mean much these days, even adults adored Pokemon. Byakuya had taken one of Hiroto’s plush-toys up into space though, that was Hiroto’s level of adorable obsession.

Taiju eased himself over Hiroto’s sleeping form curled up amongst the grass and leather of their beds, and carefully sat himself down beside Senku at the edge of the tree house, joining him in looking out at the ignited night sky.

The moon was so vibrant, he’d never seen it so enormous and bright before, and never witnessed such an incredible silver glow encase the world, almost making it impossible for a single shadow to exist.

The world was eerily still.

Not a breath of wind stirred a single leaf.

Senku sighed.

“It’ll be hard to sleep for a bit.” He cracked his neck. “You’re missing the sounds of civilization.”

“Oh.” Taiju whispered. “Oh, wow…that’s what has been missing!”

Senku smiled at him wearily. “I noticed you’ve been having a bit of trouble the past week. It will fade. You’ll get used to this new normal.”  

Taiju relaxed. He rubbed at his shoulder.

 “Shoulder hurting?” Senku curiously tipped his head to the side, his expression one of sudden pique interest. Taiju knew that look, it was hunger for knowledge.

Taiju dropped his hand away from the shoulder. “Surprisingly, since I woke up, I haven’t had any trouble with it.” Taiju rubbed at the old irritant. “But I keep rubbing at it, as if my brain wants me too.”

“It’s a mental conditioning. The neuropathways in your brain haven’t altered yet, so they’re still reacting to the stress trigger. Whenever you feel anxious or annoyed, you’ll probably do it more as a tic until you consciously alter it.” Senku tapped the side of his head. “Our brains get lazy, they like being comfortable. That’s why habits form.”

Senku dragged a leg up, tucking a knee under his chin as he leant wearily on the doorframe. In the soft moonlight, everything about his best friend was ethereal and ghostly, the moonlight highlighting his true deathly paleness and eerie pomegranate eyes.

“You’re amazing, Senku.”

“Oh, ew. Don’t get sentimental on me.”

“It’s true!”

Senku stared at his scuffed hands. His thin shoulders sagged. “I’m not built for this. I’m exhausted.”

He looked thinner. That was a worry.

“Your heart…” Taiju breathed in sharply. “Senku, are you…”

Senku shook his head, only to wince and reach up, cracking his neck. Taiju frowned. That was weird. Senku had never had such a habit. Maybe he’d hurt it with all this physical work. Yeah—that was probably it.

“I’m fine.” Senku insisted with a tone a little too sharp.

“You’re just saying that.” Taiju worried. “You always say that, and then you black out and fall down the stairs.”

Senku had the decency to wince. “Heh, yeah…”

“And then you cut your paper thin skin, and bleed everywhere and Yuzuriha freaks out and it’s all tears and a trip to the hospital.”

“Gee, I’m sorry, okay. Sheesh.” Senku turned away.

Taiju sighed. “I’m not blaming you.”

“I know, Taiju.” Senku gave frustrated scoff. “I just…it’s hard. Being born sick, and only knowing life at once pace, and seeing everyone else living at another pace, it was cruel and I detested it.” His gaze shifted back to the night sky. “I worried you and Yuzuriha would someday leave me behind.”

“Never.” Taiju denied. “Senku, never.”

“And now all humanity is frozen, and I somehow, miraculously, can run.”

Run—

Taiju breathed in deeply.

“Yeah.” Senku’s grin was wild and manic. “I can run, Taiju. Whatever that green light was, whatever it did, it fixed my heart.”

Taiju quickly scrubbed at his tears. Senku gave his arm a small pat.

“So…so you’re…you’re okay?” Taiju whispered, his hand pressed against Senku’s chest, trying to feel for a heartbeat. “You’re not going to die.”

“Not yet.” Senku grasped Taiju’s wrist. His hand was roughened, calloused, the nails all chipped and bloodied. “But even with a working heart, I’m always going to be weaker, nothing will change that unfortunately. Formative years have past and all that. Don’t think puberty is going to do much else.” He blew a rasp, wiggling his thin arms about.  

Taiju frowned. “And there is your skin to worry about.” He squinted at Senku. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about his friend upon seeing him in this new world. The increase in freckles and thicker skin texturing where pale skin was obviously being burnt.

“I’ve been using a thick mineral paste for the worst of the heat, but I do sometimes forget to use it.” Senku grumbled.

“Not anymore, not now that I’m here. I’ll remind you.” Taiju nodded in affirmation. “We need Yuzuriha, so she can make you guys some proper sun protection gear.”

“What I need is sunglasses.” Senku rubbed at his eyes. “At this rate, I’m going to go blind by twenty.”

“Wait? Seriously.”

“Yeah.”

“Dude! Okay. We really need to wake Yuzuriha. Okay. What do we do?”

Senku looked at him and laughed. “I’m not waking your girlfriend just so she can help me not go blind. I’m going to wake the whole of humanity.”

“Can we just start with Yuzuriha. The whole of humanity seems a bit…you know…a bit much right now.”

“True.” Senku dropped back on his spindly arms. “Probably should start with Yuzuriha, I mean, this may take a while. Who knows, you guys may get busy—”

“Stop talking. Stop. Stop.” Taiju slapped a hand over Senku’s mouth.

Senku laughed around the large fingers.

“Whimp,” he muffled out.

“Shut up.”

“Did you even ask her out?”

Taiju covered his face, groaning as he rolled back.

“Wait, you didn’t!?”

“Oh, come on, the world ended!” Taiju protested.

“So!? That doesn’t matter one millimetre!” Senku started poking him. “You are so lame.”

“As if you’d ever ask a girl out.” Taiju griped.

Senku shrugged, leaning back. “Current statistics aren’t in my favour, that’s for sure.”

Chapter Text

Autumn tinted the world a warmer hue, which was a contradiction, since Senku could feel the chilled air nip and bite at his exposed skin. The sun still hadn’t lost its harshness, but the early mornings and evenings were beginning to drape themselves in uneasy coolness. Preparing for winter had an enormous list—a list made far easier now that Taiju was doing the chunk of the manual labour. Their tree-top camp was really beginning to take shape, with the final pully-system installed for the small elevator that allowed much ease in carting up supplies to the higher branches.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t have his laboratory in the treetops, as safe as it felt higherup, it was simply illogical. The laboratory had to be close enough to the camp that it was easily accessible, but far enough away that if it caught fire, or any other hazardous happenstance accrued it wouldn’t affect their home.

So, they’d built the laboratory on the grassy meadow just beyond the camp, and with its establishment, finally—

Finally—

He was getting somewhere.

Seven long months—

And finally—

He was moving forward, just an inch.

Senku accepted another petrified sparrow from Hiroto, adding it to the collection along the shelves of the laboratory. Hiroto had done a great job, gathering up all the little sparrows over their months alone together, as if, knowing that someday, they’d work on the problem.

“Will we save them?” Hiroto asked, his nose propped up on the blocky tabletop.

“Of course.” Senku ruffled his brother’s hair. “Come on, let’s go get started on that. Run off and find Taiju for me. We’re going to head to the Cave of Miracles.”

And he couldn’t say that name without feeling a little bit like some snake-oil salesman, but, it did suit their current situation, so, the name had stuck.

“Yay! Miracle Cave! Miracle Cave!” Hiroto dashed out the laboratory. Senku gave the table a small pat. The wood was awful. Nothing was sanded back, and it wasn’t as if he and Taiju had the tools to make proper cabinets, but they’d hacked and chipped with stone tools to lock logs together to form furniture. There was a sort of sweet crudeness to their attempts to create familiarity in this unknown. As if they were grasping at thin air, hoping to catch something of what once was. Their teachers would be impressed. Shame this wasn’t a school technology assignment, Taiju might have finally passed something with flying colours.

Senku lowered the woven door flap, dropping some rocks in place to hold it down. He took the path marked out by more rocks that Hiroto had collected and rolled up from the river. Supplying his little brother these mundane tasks gave the brat something to do. Find rocks. Put rocks along path. Simple tasks, but they kept him occupied and it was better than him running off to tame wild dogs in his quest to have a ‘real pokemon.’

Back at camp, Taiju was stretching out a hide on one of the tanning racks. Half his attention was on what he was doing, the other half was on Hiroto, who was enthusiastically explaining the qualities of each one of his poki-ball rocks from his pouch.

To Hiroto, the world was an imaginative play-pen of wonder and brilliance, and his eyes shone with that excitement. He had to make sure that shine never left his little brother’s eyes. It was precious.

“Up for a bit of a hike?” Senku grabbed his daypack from the supply rack. “We’ll visit Yuzuriha.”

“Yeah!” Taiju burst out.

Senku rubbed a pinkie finger in his ear. Ouch. Loud.

“Neat. Let’s go. Hiroto, grab your daypack, and put on some more mud.”

“I hate mud.” Hiroto protested.

“Put it on, or you’ll burn.”

“Maybe I wanna burn.” Hiroto stomped around.

The clomping was put on, obviously. Really, if Hiroto was like this already at six, Senku was beginning to worry how rebellious he was going to get at sixteen.

“Hiroto.” Senku held out the pot of the mineral goop. He crouched down, slopping up his fingers to begin rubbing his brother’s arms, smearing the paste. “We need to protect our skin. Look, even Taiju has too.”

“Yep!” Taiju slapped his muddy hands on his face. “Need to keep this face handsome for Yuzuriha.”

“Ew.” Hiroto stuck out his tongue. “He’s worse than Dad.”

“Ten billion percent worse.” Senku rubbed his own arms and face, before setting his woven cone hat promptly on his head. It was a pretty sad hat, and it’d taken him over a dozen attempts to get something workable, but he’d finally managed the conquer the design. He plonked Hiroto’s hat on, tightening the leather strap under his chin, and his little brother grinned happily from beneath the shade.

“We’re explorers!”

“That we are.” Senku took up his spear, that honestly, he used more as a walking stick, but he liked to think it had a dual purpose.

And so, the three of them took the familiar path through the forest, heading for Yuzuriha and the ancient camphor tree. Autumn had bought new hues to the canvas of the alien world, and even Yuzuriha’s camphor tree was gilded in ornamental little purple fruits, like precious gems adorning the great spirit.

Sometimes, when he went foraging on his own, he’d find himself back here, under the camphor tree, sitting beside Yuzuriha. It was peaceful. He could talk to her. Yuzuriha always understood. She may not have been able to answer him, but somehow, her presence was still as comforting as it had always been.

Senku rested wearily on his spear, looking up at her.

She was beginning to look a little bit like the statue of a goddess, the way Taiju and Hiroto draped her in flowers and leaves. Hiroto had woken up one night crying hysterically, and it had taken both himself and Taiju a good while to figure out that the kid was worried Yuzuriha was cold without clothes and a blanket.

So they’d made her clothes, and draped her in a blanket of leaves, just so Hiroto could sleep—so they could all sleep.

Senku rubbed at his eyes.

Fucking numbers.

Sometimes, he caught himself fading, dropping into the oblivion of counting. He’d be doing a mindless task, like weaving a new basket, or chipping at wood to carve a bowl, or foraging for nuts, and the numbers would consume him. By the time he jerked himself out of the daze, hours would have passed and Hiroto would be yelling for him.

It was getting better.

But it was still difficult.

“Senku.” Taiju’s hand rested on his shoulder, giving him a small shake.

“Hm, yeah.”

“We can keep going.”

Senku breathed in. “Okay.”

“The numbers again?” Taiju asked.

Hiroto ran on ahead of them as they took a familiar path through the forest, following the sound of the river. Senku shook his head. “No. Just thinking. There is always a lot to think about.”

“Is there?” Taiju pondered.

Senku smiled. “There is.”

“Hm. Can’t say I find thinking that fascinating. I prefer doing.” Taiju thrust his arms about.

“And you’ve been doing great.” Senku praised. Psychology 101, praise someone, even best friends—ah—no—especially best friends.

“Aw, nahhh.” Taiju blew a rasp. “Just making sure you and Hiroto are safe. Winter is coming, we need to be prepared. What are the chances we make it?”

“Heh…” Senku watched Hiroto scramble up the rockface of the Miracle Cave, attempting to reach some of the stone statues stuck in the side of the cliff to hang daisy-chains on them. He should probably discourage such actions, there was always the chance Hiroto could fall, break a leg, get a scrape on his knee, infection and all that—

But—

That was life—

Right?

He couldn’t stop Hiroto from being a kid because of fear—

Could he?

Senku breathed in, he forced a smile. “Ten billion percent chance we’ll make it.”

Taiju clapped him on the back, sending him stumbling forward. “I trust you!”

He was so very glad Taiju was with him. He felt like some sort of emotional vampire, leeching off his best friend’s positivity. Despite feeling healthier than he ever had in his life, he’d never needed Taiju more. That was a strange place to be. Nothing changed. He’d always need people.

That was okay.

Right?

That was allowed.

Right?

He supposed, if he thought about it logically, humanity had survived due to its integral skill in forming community bonds. As horrendous as human history could be, those bonds shone bright. The human heart. That which could not be quantified by science.

Taiju had vanished into the Cave of Miracles, most likely to explore where he’d first emerged from. This was his first time returning after all. Senku looked up at Hiroto, sitting on a ledge in the cliff, making another daisy-chain.

“Be careful.”

Hiroto motioned to the teen, frozen in stone beside him. “He needs a friend. I will sit with him, so the darkness is not so scary.”

Senku nodded. “Good idea. Call me if anything happens.”

“I will!”

Senku headed into the cave. He’d treaded this path many times now, first to check on Taiju, then to check on his experiment.

“Senku!” Taiju suddenly grabbed at him.

Whoa! Strong hands. He was shaken like a rattle.

“Someone else is here! Someone put something in the cave! Come and look!”

He was dragged down to the spot right where they’d plonked Taiju down, and where one of his claypot creations was now sitting, gathering nitric acid from the ceiling.

“See!” Taiju thrust his arms down at the pot. “Look! Someone put this here!”

Senku arched an eyebrow at Taiju.

Really?

Was he that dumb.

Nope.

Nah.

Don’t question it. This was Taiju.

“I put it there, you big oaf.”

“Whoa!” Taiju clasped his cheeks. “Of course you did!” He whispered. “You’re the secret other person.”

“You’re a colossal idiot.” Senku flicked Taiju’s ear . He crouched down beside the pot, watching as a drop of the nitric acid landed with a rippling drip.

Taiju rubbed at his red forehead. “So, er, what is this stuff?”

“It’s a miracle.” Senku chuckled.

“A miracle?”

“Yeah.” Senku tipped his head to the side. “Hiroto coined it. The Miracle Cave, adequate, considering I’ve never heard of nitric acid naturally accruing in this fashion before, but, just because I’ve never heard of something, doesn’t mean it is impossible.” He tapped his chin. “I think it is because of this cave that you and I broke free of the petrification, or at least, the nitric acid in the soil around here.”

He motioned to the pot he’d placed on the ground. “I’m collecting it. See, I’d hope that I could use it for de-petrification but…it doesn’t work.”

“But you just said it worked.” Taiju frowned. “I’m confused.”

Senku tossed a hand back and forth. “It’s complicated. Our brains were active.” He gave a frustrated huff. “What I really need is nital.”

“Nital?”

“Basically a stronger corrosive, you get it by mixing nitric acid and alcohol…but…” Senku looked around, indicating their entire situation. “No alcohol.”

“So…what are you going to do?”

“Heh.” Senku shrugged. “I’ll think of something. Was thinking of using the potatoes to make alcohol, but…we just don’t produce enough of them. We kind of need them for food. They’re a good veggie.”  

Taiju nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out when I’m foraging.”

“Don’t eat anything weird again.” Senku picked up his spear, heading for the cave opening. “Please come and ask me before you scoff a berry down.”

“I know. I know!” Taiju snatched up his basket.

“You say that, I don’t trust you.” Senku glared up at him. “Hiroto!” He shouted. “We’re heading home. Come on, I want to be back by before nightfall.”

Home.

When had their camp become home.

Fascinating.

0000

Senku pressed his ear gently against Hiroto’s chest, hearing a soft wheeze as his little brother slept. It wasn’t overly concerning. Probably just a seasonal cold. It itched the back of his mind though, the worry that three thousand, seven hundred years was a long time for mutations to happen, for a virus to figure out how to jump from an animal to a human, and he still—

He still didn’t know if anything had infected Hiroto from when the dog had scratched him all those months ago. Maybe it was a bacterial infection? He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t dwell on something he couldn’t change, fix or know. The highest probability was, it was just a seasonal cold, and Hiroto would be up and about again in a few days.

Idly he checked the little clay pot in the middle of the bedroom of their treehouse. He’d fashioned it to hold hot coals and rocks, to keep their little dwelling warm in the winter months, but it could also be used to gently burn the oil he’d worked hard to collect and dispel from the old camphor tree. It was a soothing oil, and hopefully it’d help Hiroto’s breathing. He brushed his little brother’s forehead gently, tucking the blanket around him, before slipping carefully out the door and down the ladder.

Taiju was sorting through his morning’s foraging run. He looked up, brow raised.

“Hiroto okay?”

Senku dragged a hand through his hair. “I’d have presumed without humans around, most viruses would have just faded…but…”

“Yeah…but…”

“It’s been a long time.” Senku shrugged. “It could be an avian flu, hell, the monkey’s keep bothering us, or, maybe something mutated in what we’ve been eating. There is just no way of knowing how time has changed things on the microscopic level.”

“So…he’s…okay?”

“He’ll be fine.” Senku tossed a hand about. “I’m not worried.”

“Yeah. I can tell. You’re worried.”

“I’m not.”

“Hm.” Taiju went back to his basket. Senku arched an eyebrow at the foraging supplies, crouching down beside him. “Dude…are you trying to kill us. I told you, if it looks like it’s from a Mario game, it’s bad news.”

“But it looks delicious!”

Senku held up the offending red and white fungi. “This will kill you. You didn’t eat anything, did you?”

“Er…” Taiju shuffled awkwardly.

Senku’s chest clench.

Fuck.

“Taiju!”

Taiju stuck his hand into the basket, pulling out a bunch of sad looking grapes. “It was just some grapes, at least, I think they’re grapes, right?”

Yeah, they were grapes. Ugly arse grapes, but they were grapes.

“You found a grape vine?” Senku spluttered.

Dude. He’d been awake for near on nine months now and he hadn’t seen any grape vines. How did Taiju have such good luck.

“Yep!” Taiju rubbed his chin. “Now…you can make alcohol out of grapes, right? I know that much.”

Senku grinned. “Oh. Get excited.”

“Whoo yeah!” Taiju jumped up. “Time to get more grapes!”

Leaning lazily on his chin as he watched Taiju vanish back into the forest, Senku heaved a sigh. Yep. That was Taiju, stumbling around, having luck on his side, and always managing to somehow do the right thing.

“He’s some sort of universal anomaly, I swear.” Senku mumbled fondly.

0000

Senku hoisted himself up into the bedroom. The air inside the treehouse was warm from the heated coals in the clay basin, and the scent of camphor oil had filled all corners of the little sleeping space. Hiroto was sitting up, pawing at his eyes. He had a brighter hue to his cheeks, and feeling his forehead, the hint of fever he’d been fighting off had faded. What was that saying about dodging bullets? They’d a hundred percent dodged one. Sometimes all a kid needed to do was sleep for a solid twenty-four hours to shake off an illness.

The human body was truly an amazing thing.

“Feeling better, bud?” Senku offered a cup of boiled water.

Hiroto took it and sipped. He nodded. “Can I go play?”

“You can, but stay around the marked out camp. Taiju and I are working on a science project, so, best you don’t wander away from us.” Senku wrapped Hiroto’s mop of hair into a bun with a leather strip.

Hiroto crinkled his nose. “What is the smell?”

“Camphor oil, from Yuzuriha’s Tree. I think you had a bit of chest congestion. The night air might have gotten a bit cold for you. Camphor oil is an anti-inflammatory, and can also help clear the chest and nasal passages.”

“Yuzuriha saved me!” Hiroto’s eyes shone with wonder.

“Ah. Well—”

“I should thank her.” Hiroto burst out. “I will make her something!”

Senku pursed his lips as Hiroto scrambled out of his bed and down the ladder.

Right—

Yuzuriha was really living up to that goddess figure. Another few months and she was going to cement herself firmly into that role in Hiroto’s mind. Kids formed weird ideas really quickly, with wild imaginations firing away.

“So unscientific.” Senku grumbled.

He shuffled his way back out of their bedroom and scaled down the ladder. Taiju was pressing his latest gathering of grapes, and Hiroto had dashed over to watch him waddle around in the icky concoction. A good stream of liquid was dripping out into a pot that was almost full. Senku quickly switched it over with a fresh one.

“What are you doing?” Hiroto asked.

“We’re making alcohol.” Taiju offered.

“Isn’t that what grownups drink?” Hiroto frowned over at Senku. His little brother began waggling a finger in disproval. “Senku, Dad said you should never use your power of science for naughty things.”

Senku laughed. “He did say that, didn’t he.”

“Didn’t know you ever did naughty things, Senku.” Taiju paused from his stomping and sloshing about. Hiroto peered over the edge of the basin, scrunching up his face at the sight of Taiju’s purple stained feet.

Senku offered Taiju a cup of water. It was intense work, pressing grapes—which was why he wasn’t doing it. He’d given it a go, but his legs had started burning from lactic acid buildup after only five minutes, which was totally lame. Really, he’d have thought he’d have gotten a little fitter after all his work and effort over the passing months surviving on his own.

“I am capable of bending rules and being very naughty.” Senku grinned. “Remember that time I couldn’t go out with you and Yuzuriha to the movies?”

“To see Godzilla! Oh yeah!” Taiju clapped his hands.

“I was grounded.” Senku sat back on a rock. “Byakuya caught me attempting to make bromine out of pool supplies, in the kitchen.”

Hiroto giggled. “Dad was so angry!”

“I had it handled.” Senku grumbled. “It was more the kitchen part Dad was upset about, not the bromine.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I was grounded, but…I did end up getting full access to the university laboratory afterwards. Guess Dad realised I needed a space.” He scratched his chin.

“Yeah, let’s not mix the weird chemicals of doom with the ramen.” Taiju started up his grape stomping once more.

“I miss ramen.” Hiroto sniffled.

Senku held out his arms and Hiroto huddled into his lap. “That’s why we’re making alcohol, so I can work on bringing everyone back, and we’ll have ramen again.”

“Really?” Hiroto’s clutched his arm, his voice pitched full of hope and longing.

“Really.” Senku assured, holding a hand to the cloudy autumn sky. “We’ll use the power of science to figure out what caused the petrification event, and take back our world!” He tickled Hiroto, causing a squeal of laughter to erupt from his little brother. “Get excited!”  

000000

It took three and a half weeks for the fermentation of the wine to fully take hold, with Taiju stirring their pots daily to make sure nothing dried out. It’d have been a shame to waste anything, not when they’d have to wait another season for the vines to fruit again.

Perched on Taiju’s shoulders, Hiroto bounced with excitement as Senku removed one of the wooden lids on a pot stored by the laboratory. They’d made extra certain that none of the pots would be damaged by the autumn foul weather. The skies were turning against them, and soon, they’d be facing a very harsh reality of survival.

Winter.

But first—

Senku scooped out a cup of the wine, holding it up to Taiju, and then scooped out his own.

“Can I have some?” Hiroto bent over Taiju’s head.

“Ten billion percent no.” Senku sipped the wine.

Eww, that was disgusting, but also, not half bad. He swirled it around, smiling at the liquid. For a first attempt, he’d give that a passing grade.

Taiju spat it out, coughing and spluttering.

“That was disgusting!” He choked.

“Yeah. Worse than anything that was ever on the market, but still, pretty good for two high school brats.”

“Er.” Taiju squinted at the wine in his cup. “Right, yeah, isn’t this highly illegal?”

Senku laughed, holding out his arms for Hiroto to climb off Taiju’s back. He settled the boy on the grass and Hiroto peered into the pot, pouting at being forbidden from drinking the juice.

“I think we’ll be fine for now, Taiju.”

His best friend took another sip, only to roll up his shoulders and cringe. “You know,” he managed to squeak out. “This was a lot easier than I expected.”

Senku heaved Hiroto up, dumping him away from the pot, and he slapped the lid back on it. Hiroto stuck out his tongue. Senku raised a single finger in warning and his little brother stomped off, swinging his sling around in annoyance. He refocused on Taiju. “The hard part comes now, we have to distil this wine down to ethanol…”

“And…ah…how do we do that?” Taiju asked.

Senku sighed. “Patience.” He cracked his knuckles. “Thankfully, I have been working on it!” He thrust his thumb in the direction of the hideous looking clay monstrosity that sat over the firepit in front of the laboratory. Taiju gave him one of his classic shocked faces.

“That thing! The thing you’ve been making! We’re using that!”

Senku thrust his arms out at his in excitement. “Humans have been doing this for thousands of years. I’m pretty sure I’ve got the design right. I saw a picture once. Come on! Let’s test it!”

Yeah—

So—

He had the design right.

It was just the structural integrity didn’t hold and his beautiful creation collapsed, losing them time, and wine. Senku nursed his head. This was science. Science meant failure. Taiju helped him clear away the ruins, and he got to work remaking another distillery. By the time he’d finished a piece of it, the sun was below the tree line, and he eased back on his heels, wiping his clayed up hands on his roughened hide clothes.

Something was off, and it wasn’t the rising sense that the weather was changing. No. Hiroto—Hiroto hadn’t bothered him all afternoon. Usually, Hiroto was in his peripheral somewhere in the camp. Senku frowned. He slowly stood, looking around the camp. Taiju was by the woodpile, chopping wood for the winter supply, and the treehouse seemed peacefully empty. The rope ladders and bridges between the platforms and rooms voided of Hiroto’s usual traversing form bouncing around, singing his favourite pokemon songs.

“Taiju!” Senku shouted. “Have you seen Hiroto?”

Taiju paused from his work. “No.”

Shite. Shite. Shite.

Senku moved. “Hiroto!” He shouted. “Hiroto!”

No answer.

By now, Taiju was also calling for his brother. Senku grabbed his day pack, stuffing it with supplies before snatching up his spear. He checked the treehouse. Nothing. Now his heart was racing.

“Hiroto!” Senku did a sharp turn around. The sun was setting. Hiroto could not be out beyond the camp borders after sundown. None of them could. That was the rule. He knew that. Hiroto knew that.

“I shouldn’t have scolded him.” Senku looked up at Taiju.

“No, you do need to discipline him, especially out here. It’s dangerous. But I think maybe you need to involve him more in what you’re doing, you’re very independent Senku, and he needs you.”

Senku swallowed. He sucked at this.

“You have to start letting him work with you on your projects, even if it means they don’t go as well, or as fast, or they get messed up. He won’t learn any other way, and you’ll be able to keep an eye on him.” Taiju’s hand settled on his shoulder. “And he can keep an eye on you.”

“None of it will matter if we don’t find him in the next hour.” Senku flung out his arms.

“Stop panicking.” Taiju’s hand on his shoulder tightened.

“Don’t tell me to not panic—”

“Senku.” Taiju’s tone dropped, firming up. “Think for a minute. Think. Stop being emotional. Think.”

He had to be in a bad way if Taiju was telling him to stop being emotional. That didn’t happen all that often. He could actually count the times on his hand. Senku breathed in deeply. His heart loud in his ears. It felt like it was going to erupt from his ribcage. It took considerable effort to calm the shaking of his hands, and claw back control of his aching, rasping throat to breathe steadily again. Taiju gave his back a pat. “There you go.”

Right—

Think—

Where would Hiroto have gone to pout?

The river? No. The Miracle Cave? No. He hated the smell.

“Yuzuriha’s Tree.” Senku smacked his forehead. “Fuck, of course.”

Taiju laughed, already heading towards the marked path. “That took you way longer to figure out than I expected.”

“Shut up, you big jerk.”

Taiju dodged a swipe of the spear. “Oh no, so scared, the scrawny little scientist is trying to poke me.”

Seeing Hiroto curled up tightly at Yuzuriha’s feet was both a moment of relief and sorrow. Taiju was right, he’d been neglectful, becoming caught up in the day-to-day grind of trying to survive, and trying to ‘save humanity’ that the most important thing had slipped between his fingers. Nothing mattered more than Hiroto. He was all he had left of Byakuya. Climbing up the mangled root system of the old camphor tree, Senku settled himself down beside Hiroto, curling around him and wrapping them both up in a leather throw to ward off the night chill. Taiju joined them, forming a barrier on the other side, and the warmth increased. Hiroto mumbled something, shuffling around and burrowing into Senku’s chest.

Senku kissed his forehead.

“This is nice.” Taiju beamed, his gaze on Yuzuriha above them. “All of us are finally together.”

“Wow. How to make something uncomfortable and weird.” Senku grumbled.

“No, that’s just you, Senku, that’s just you.” Taiju chuckled. “You’re a jerk.”

0000

Winter crept up slowly, like a haunting phantom. Day by day, the world grew ever quieter as the wildlife became scarcer, the birds vanished from the skies, their morning songs no longer waking them. It was ever more difficult to leave the warm comfort of their toasty bedroom and the little hearth of coals that burned through the cold, still nights.

But there was science to be done, and preparations for the snowfall that was likely to come any day now were underway. Inside the warmth of the laboratory, Senku and Hiroto sat, watching the earthenware distillery slowly work its magic. It had to be watched twenty-four seven, so Senku and Taiju had worked out a system of shifts, as exhausting as it was. Senku usually took the night shifts, as Taiju tended to do the heavy physical labour during the day hours.

Senku glanced over at Hiroto, seated beside him, working on one of the snowshoes they were fashioning. Incorporating Hiroto into his more complicated projects, and even his not so complicated projects, had been—a challenge—he wasn’t Byakuya.

He didn’t make things fun.

Senku sighed.

He was boring and quiet and liked to sit on his own and just focus.

Taiju and Yuzuriha hadn’t minded this, they’d sit and chat together while he did the science shite in the corner, and then he’d drag them out to some crazy abandoned warehouse to blow up something, or shoot a homemade rocket into space, or tryout an electrical go-cart that was more than likely illegal.

He sucked at explaining science.

Because it was already all in his head, and getting what was in his head, out and into words, had never been his strongest stat. Sure—sure—he could wax on about science for hours, but that was completely different than actually helping someone learn.

“Is this more fun than putting rocks on the path?” Senku asked.

Hiroto nodded. “It is!” He held up the wonky weaving of leather strips between the curved sticks forming the snowshoe. It was a good first attempt. Senku ruffled Hiroto’s hair in praise. Hiroto beamed in pride.

“I figured the past week would have been a bit boring, you know, sitting with me, watching the distillery.”

Hiroto quickly shook his head. “No. We’ve been making things! Like our winter coats, and the winter blankets, and our snow hats, and snowshoes, and we made a new axe for Taiju together, we started learning more maths.”

This was true. He’d make up random equations, draw them out on the ground and Hiroto would have to finish them. He was annoyed at himself for not reading more mathematical textbooks. Actually, he was growing annoyed that he hadn’t read more of everything. It was a frustrating thing about eidetic memory, it wasn’t like a camera, the knowledge, if not applied, could fade from his mind. He was going to lose a lot of important—random—shite—that might be useful.

So, to combat the numbers that haunted his waking and sleeping hours, he’d started reciting books he’d read. Right now, he and Hiroto were about half-way through Odyssey. Hiroto didn’t seem to mind it. Indeed, most nights he fell asleep, curled up in his arms, listening to the fantastical tale of Odysseus.

“I like being with you.” Hiroto added softly, his head bowed. “It’s been lonely. You’ve been working so hard. I’ve been lonely.”

Senku’s chest tightened. Oh—Hiroto—

He set the snowshoe he was working on aside and held out his arms. Hiroto clambered into his lap and they snuggled together, huddling beneath the laboratory’s roof, watching the first soft flakes of snow fall and melt on the ground.

“It’s so pretty.” Hiroto wiggled about happily.

Senku smiled. “It’s fascinating.”

The whole of creation was a remarkable, captivating marvel, and he would never get tired of being in awe of every tiny, fragile detail.

Chapter Text

Senku stared down at the fleshy, dismembered body parts in front of him. His stomach did a little flip inside. He’d suspected this might have been the case, but he’d had to know, and now that he did know, he felt rather awful about the result.

Well—

The Revival Fluid they’d spent the whole of the winter completing, worked on human body parts.

That was now an established fact.

He sighed, looking around the area he sat within. Several of the stone bodies were so severely eroded and shattered, he could barely make out that they’d been human. The elements had abused them over the millennia, and the results weren’t looking positive. He wondered, depressingly, how many lives had been lost due to erosion and weathering such as this.

“Heh. This is annoying.”

Senku cracked his irritated neck, and the frustrating pain subsided a little. The headache it gave him was dull. Cracking his neck did relieve the pressure that seemed to build up, but he couldn’t get over how irate it sounded inside his eardrums; cracking and grinding stone. It was such a wrong sound to hear from a human body.

Taking out his small stone spade, he began to dig a hole. It’d be disrespectful to leave these pieces out in the open, and it would attract the dogs. They hadn’t been a problem all winter, but now with spring blooming all around them, he was getting nervous again about the larger predators.

“Hey! Senku!” Taiju’s voice rattled through the trees.

“Over here!” Senku called back.

Taiju made a terrible amount of noise as he blustered through the undergrowth. Despite all the months through the winter that he’d been awake, he really hadn’t learnt squat about how to move silently through the forest. Turned out, Taiju sucked at hunting big game.

It amused Senku—so very much—that he was still the one doing their main hunting with his sling. Taiju truly lived up to his pacifist nature, even when it came to animals, he struggled to take a life—any life—

He respected it.

Taiju was Taiju. Not everyone was impartial about situations as he was.

His best friend thumped up to him, carrying one of their wicker baskets over his shoulder, full to the brim with fresh spring gatherings. Taiju halted abruptly, staring down at the squishy, very real body parts on the ground.

“Er. Oh.”

“Yeah.” Senku drawled, scratching his itchy chin. He didn’t have to contend with the same amounts of facial hair as Taiju, who’d grown a shocking full beard over the winter that Hiroto had marvelled at. His measly offering was soft and spotty, only visible in certain light, and he fucking needed a razer because it was fucking annoying.

“Well…er…it works?” Taiju cringed.

“Yeah.” That was Taiju, the optimist. “Let’s not tell Hiroto about this.” Senku buried the human remains in the hole he’d dug. “He doesn’t need to know the macabre details.”

Taiju nodded in agreement. “He’s waiting at the camphor tree.”

Senku heaved himself up with his spear. “I swear the brat is more excited about waking up Yuzuriha than you are."

Taiju laughed as they headed through the forest together. “Yuzuriha is just that wonderful.”

She was wonderful. Senku had to agree. She was the only girl he’d ever known who’d bothered to take the time to sit and listen to him without judgement, because she just rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. She knew exactly the right moment to lean on his shoulder when he was having a complete meltdown internally, because she saw the look in his eyes, and patiently waited it out with him. There were those times when the three of them would spend the holidays being typical teens, out in the arcade, traversing the shopping streets and Yuzuriha would offer the sleeve of her blouse for him to hold as they navigated the crowds. It was the simplest of gestures that showed she knew—she saw—

He'd felt seen by her.

Senku paused, his brow creasing in a deep furrow.

Taiju looked back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“No, something just…I just…realised something…” Senku sipped water from his bamboo canteen as he eased down on a rock to take a break. His gaze shifted to the sky, as it always would when his mind found itself drifting to Byakuya and Miss. Lilian.

“For his sixth birthday, Hiroto asked Dad for something really ridiculous.”

Taiju arched an eyebrow. “Not more pokemon.”

Senku shook his head. “A mother.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Senku cracked his neck. Fuck. It hurt. “It’s never been something he had to think about with me. Dad never worried that I was lonely, or that I was bored…I always had something going on in my mind. Dad didn’t even ask me about adopting Hiroto, he just presumed it’d be fine.”

“Was it fine?” Taiju crouched in front of him.

“I didn’t really care either way. Why waste emotion on such a frivolous thing.”

Taiju sighed. Obviously, that hadn’t been a great answer, but he didn’t care. Taiju had been dealing with his shite answers for years.

“Hiroto is different than I am. I can compartmentalise. He needs…what’s that saying…”

“A village?” Taiju offered.

“Yeah. It takes a village to raise a child or something.” Senku flapped a hand about. He actually knew the quote, but after enduring high school, he’d come to understand the flow of conversations usually called for lazy language. If he got to his point to quickly, it blocked the other person from conversing with him and that had been lame.

Taiju laughed. “It may take us awhile to get to that point.”

Senku playfully ribbed him. “Time to wake up the girl you waited three thousand seven hundred years to ask out.”

It was fascinating, how quickly such an idyllic moment as the two of them, casually walking along their marked path—that they’d walked hundreds of times before—could turn violently wrong.

Senku caught the movement in the shrubbery, and maybe it was the months of being emersed in the forest, surrounded by the sounds and sensations, being their primary hunter. He could come up with dozens of reasons why he noticed the predator and not Taiju, and why he shoved his best friend roughly forward.

“Run!”

Taiju obeyed, without hesitation.

It happened in slow motion in his mind, though undoubtably, it was nothing more than a few seconds of action; his step backwards, his bracing the butt of his spear against a rock, and the crushing weight of the predator landing on him.

His spear cracked, splintering as it burrowed deep into the chest cavity of the beast.

Dead weight.

Senku scrambled backwards through the warm blood coating him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’d killed a lioness.

Fuck.

His spear had worked.

Fuck.

Get up.

Get up.

Why weren’t his legs moving. This was what adrenalin was for!

“Fucking move.” He ordered himself. Hey—the power of positive self-reinforcement worked, he was up. Senku heaved in gasps, grasping at the shattered end of his spear as three more lionesses emerged from the undergrowth.

His skin crawled in pure terror.

Lionesses hunted in teams.

Lions hunted alone.

Of course, with his luck, the lionesses had come upon them.

He wasn’t going to give them time to reevaluate.

He moved. Dumb. Dumb idea. Wow. He was a colossal idiot. He’d just made himself a target. Was this just instinct. Running in fear. At least he was running away from the camphor tree, away from Taiju and Hiroto.

Think. Think. Think. He needed to climb—something—anything—

No—

Wait—

Lionesses could climb, right?

His chest was beginning to burn, air rushing from his lungs in heavy, sharp gasps. He was missing his steps. Any second now, he was going to be pinned and his throat ripped apart.

His feet hit air.

Just air.

And he fell, swallowed up by clawing darkness that ripped and tore at him. Senku smacked down hard, his neck crunching, his head collecting a roughened surface, and his world went blank.

0000

Senku stared up at the small opening he’d fallen through. It was far above him, best estimate, thirty meters. The light that filtered down from the hole was barely enough for him to see by, but he’d been down here for a good while now, and his vision had adjusted to the dimness. He’d been lying on the cold stones, in a semi-awake state for an hour, give or take a few minutes. The sheer shock of the fall had knocked him out, and that complete unconsciousness, he had no idea how long that was, but it probably hadn’t been more than a half hour, according to the light from above. He was only alive because of the angle of his fall, and the mangled, angry tree roots that had caught him on his way down.

Senku took a deeper breath.

Hot, sharp, stabbing pain knifed deep into his chest.

Okay—

Okay—

He took a lighter, shallower breath.

That was either a cracked rib—or—hopefully—just bruised.

He tested his legs next. They worked. Arms seemed fine. Everything was scuffed up and bruised, but, nothing else seemed broken. He was bleeding from several deep gashes, the blood already globby and coagulated against his thready skin.

Senku hissed out his pain as he shuffled up. His head spun and he swallowed the urged to vomit as his throat burned with saliva. Concussion? Fuck. He hoped not.

Right. Okay. Assess. He still had his supply kit with him. He had some rope. His sling. His whistle. Water. Some food. A blanket roll.

Senku held up a vial.

The Revival Fluid.

He breathed out a sigh of relief.

It hadn’t shattered. Sometimes the universe smiled at him despite his shite luck.

Carefully he shuffled upright. His vision swam and he swallowed vomit. Senku clenched his teeth. He’d been through worse. Focus through the haze. Think. Think. Think.

Taiju—

Yeah—

There was no way he’d know he was down here.

Senku sighed. Well. He’d just have to climb out himself then.

He stared up at the opening and gave a sarcastic laugh.

“Fuck. Nope.”

He could have fashioned some sort of rope out of the roots around him, but he’d never have the strength to throw the rope high enough. Okay—different options—

Where was he? What had he fallen down into?

Time to do some investigating. He breathed out. If—if he could—move.

It did take him awhile, acting as slowly as he could, trying not to jar his head to roughly and cause a swell of nausea to burn through him, but eventually he gathered up enough dried roots. Wrapping them around a good, long stick he pulled out his flint from his pack. Sparks hissed and spat in the darkness. After several attempts, the sparks ignited, and the torch came alive. Senku tucked away his flint and held out the torch, carefully steeping his way down the dark tunnel he’d fallen into. It had been long enough that what did remain of civilization was that which had been created from reinforced concrete.

Stone.

He supposed.

Stone for a stone world.

Like the Great Pyramids, or the ancient Colosseum of Rome, those ruins had survived the test of time. He was rather sure he was clambering his way through the remains of the subway system, and that belief was confirmed when he almost tripped over an enormous assortment of bodies, piled up in parallel lines. Some in standing positions, others awkwardly seated. Many were missing limbs; some had crumbled completely. The way the glow of his fire torch danced off their grey faces made his stomach churn, and certainly, the hollow moaning sound of wind blowing through the tunnel did not help his shot nerves. Senku hesitantly moved to the side, away from the eerie entombed humans. It was just his imagination—it was just that annoying, subliminal part of his mind—that felt as though their eyes were following him as he headed deeper into the darkness. The ground beneath his feet compressed, growing boggier, soon he was slipping, then sinking and slopping about in ever deepening mud that gradually became water.

More bodies.

Hundreds of them. This—this was a station—it had to be a station!

His ankle snagged on something. Senku slapped over, cursing as skin tore against stone and his right ankle snapped off someone’s hand. He barely managed to keep his light above the water as he struggled about in the bog.

His jaw clenched, holding in a cry. Air heaved out of his nose. No. No. He was fine. He was fine. There was light ahead. Just reach the light—

One of the nearby stone statues shattered into pieces as a monstrous, jawed, scaled beast lunged for him.

“Fuck! No. No. No!”

Japan didn’t have fucking crocodiles!

Why was there crocodiles—

Nope. Not questioning it. Senku splattered through the bog and madly heaved himself up onto the cracked and broken platform, dragging himself up the crumbled stairs by a tangled vine as the enormous reptile took a swipe for his legs. He barely managed to roll onto the outcrop of the old station platform, flopping back and heaving for painful gasps of air. Senku gripped at his chest, rolling over as he heaved out an opened mouth cry, curling his legs up.

White blinding pain.

He breathed.

That was all he could think of doing.

Just breathing.

Slowly. Inhale. Exhale. The pain ebbed, easing enough that he could unfurl and drag his soggy, muddy body upright. Senku looked longingly across the nasty bog to the light on the other side, light and freedom.

“Well, shite and sticks.”

Of course there were giant man-eating monsters lurking in the bog of doom. Wasn’t like he could wrangle a crocodile. Could he distract them long enough to wade through the bog? Doubtful. Maybe scare them with fire? That was a possibility. Senku tipped his head back.

“Wish I had some really strong ammonia…” He puffed out his cheeks. “Guess I could try pissing on them.” He gave a sarcastic chuckle, only to wince and grip at his chest. This was ridiculous. If the light from outside was any indication, it was late afternoon, which meant he didn’t have much time to get out of this situation and back home.

Making a new torch, he padded around the platform. The area seemed to flood from time to time. He was lucky he’d fallen into the subway during a time when it hadn’t been flooded, or he would have really been crocodile food. There were countless statues, many in the bog itself, which explained what he’d caught his foot on. Senku glanced at the bleeding gash down his leg. Heh. Heh. He was leaking a string a blood, and he had absolutely nothing clean to tape it up with.

Nope. Not going to worry about that possible infection hazard right now. Later.

He almost walked past the statue.

He probably would have, but his soggy leather coat caught on a hand and almost took off the poor guy’s finger. Senku cursed, apologising to the statue on instinct. He blinked. Wait. He knew this guy. The face, highlighted in the flickering glints of his torch, it was familiar. They’d met once before, outside the hospital, by the vending machine, under the glow of a streetlamp.

“Well, ah…you’re…a fine example of human form.” Senku pouted and bought up one of his lean arms and snorted in amusement. He looked back across the bog and arched an eyebrow at the crocodiles. Senku sighed, tugging out the Revival Fluid from his kit. “Sorry, Taiju. You’re just going to have to wait a month…” at least long enough for him to recover. With a very nonceremonial action, he dumped the Revival Fluid on the teen.

It worked faster than he expected. Cracks began to form, coiling around the worst of the erosion, and sections of the stone casing crumbled away, piece by piece. Senku crouched, cocking his head up at the teen. He raised a hand. “Hey yo, I’m Ishigami Senku. This is the situation; whole of humanity has been petrified for around about three thousand, seven hundred years. I got chased by lionesses, fell into the old subway, there are now crocodiles. Don’t question it.”

“I see.”

“Glad you do.” Senku noticed the teen’s eyes flick to his wounded, bleeding leg. “Ignore it. It’s fine.”

“It does not appear fine.”

“Trust me, not the worst thing I’m dealing with.” Senku took a shallow breath.

The teen stood, causing the stone around his lower body to crack and shatter. “Shishio Tsukasa.” He inclined his head.

“Nice to finally put a name to the face.”

“Likewise.” Tsukasa glanced around the eerie underground tunnel, and the bog below. “I can carry you.” He motioned to the network of vines above them. “We’ll avoid the bog, and the crocodiles by going overhead.”

“I had thought of that.” Senku arched an eyebrow at the vines.

“But you are wounded, yes. Which is why you woke me up.”

Senku looked back at the powerful teen. “Astute observation. It is. Though, I don’t know you. You could decide to shrug me off.”

“That would be counterproductive.” Tsukasa crouched, motioning to his back. “It is obvious you know more of this new world than I do, that you have been awake for some time.”

“Again, astute observation.” Senku ripped a vine from the wall. “But, hope you don’t mind, I’m going to make sure you can’t drop me.”

He received a chuckle. “I will not take offense; indeed, it is a good idea, encase your arms fail you.”

“Which is more likely…” Senku mumbled.

He fashioned a workable harness from the vines and lashed himself to the teens back. Was it awkward—heh—yeah—but only if he thought about it to much. It was best not to think about things. Besides, he was in too much pain to really care. Senku tightened his hands against Tsukasa’s shoulders, not really believing the teen was capable of carrying them both across the distance.

This was how he died—crocodile food. Yay.

“It’s okay.” Tsukasa spoke gently, his tone warm, reassuring. “You’re safe with me.”

Yeah—

That’s what people who weren’t safe, had to say to assure their victims. Or maybe the guy had been getting judgemental looks all this life and learnt charisma to counteract such negativity. Both possible. Which was annoying.

“I didn’t know there were crocodiles in Japan.” Tsukasa paused, halfway across the bog, looking down.

“Three-thousand seven hundred years is a long time. There could have been an ice-age, continental shifts, global floods…any number of mass events that caused the movement of animals.”

“Without humans, it is a pure world.” Tsukasa started up again.

Senku breathed a sigh of relief. “I donno, I’d just call it a world.” At some point, he had to close his eyes from what he decided was nausea stemming from his headwound, so he missed Tsukasa making landfall on the other side of the bog and hoisting them both out of the subway and into daylight.

“Oh…wow…” Tsukasa breathed out.

Senku eased off his back, swallowing bile and shading his eyes from the intense glean of low sunlight leaking between the forest. He did remember being rather impressed with the sight when he’d first woken, so, he supposed it all was rather beautiful.

“Come on…” Senku sighed. “We need to make it to the safe zone before nightfall.”

“There is a safe zone?”

“Nothing is entirely safe, but it’s a radius of land we know well enough and have mapped out. I’ve got emergency stashes in different spots for…well…emergencies.”

He needed his medical kit right now. Leaves were not going to cut it for the gash down his leg.

“I can carry you.”

“I’m fine.” Senku held up a hand. He wasn’t—really—but he’d deal with it.

“We will move faster.”

“No.” Senku hissed. “I’ve done my touch quota for the day. Piss off.” He dragged himself into the forest, heading for the river that was always their constant guide through the valley. It took focus to set one foot before the other, and that was all he did. Forward. One foot, the next foot, find the river, head up the river, find home.

At some point, night fell, the air grew chilled, and he started shivering.

One foot. The next foot.

“Senku!”

He breathed in sharply, looking up at the shout that carried through the forest. Taiju.

“Seeeeenkuuuuu!”

Light. Light danced in the darkness. Lanterns. Two of them, dodging about through the trees and undergrowth.

“Senku! Senku! Where are you?! Senku!”

Shite—

Shite—

They where out looking for him! Fuck!

Senku breathed in deeply, “Taiju!” he shouted. “Left, no, your other left. Down by the river.”

It was Hiroto’s lantern that he spotted first. His little brother barrelled towards him with arms out wide. Senku tried bracing himself. It didn’t work. He was too weak. Hiroto smacked into him and he stumbled backwards. Behind him, Tsukasa took his weight, large hands gently pressuring his shoulders to keep him upright.

“Senku. Senku. Senku. Senku!” Hiroto sobbed. “I thought you were dead!”

Very dramatic. But—also—yeah—he’d thought he was dead too for a minute there—

“It’s okay, bub.” Senku murmured wearily. “Sorry for scaring you.”

Taiju approached, wary of the newcomer, but also anxious at his obviously busted up state. “We need to get you home.”

“Yeah.” Senku nodded. “Ah, I’m concussed. Probably got a bruised rib or two, my leg is fucked. I’m going to need to stitch it.”  

“I’ll carry you.” Taiju ordered, and it was an order from his best friend.

Senku was in half the mind to object, but a concussion wasn’t something he was capable of simply laughing off. It was going to slow him down for at least a few days, considering it had been bad enough to cause unconsciousness.

This wasn’t ideal. Could he trust the stranger behind him.

“Senku.” Taiju was gently shaking him. “Senku.”

“Sorry. Phased out.” Senku murmured.

His best friend’s face pinched with worry. “Right. Let’s get you home.”

He didn’t protest to being hoisted up like a piece of luggage. It wasn’t the first time, and he highly doubted it be the last either. He glanced down at Hiroto, checking that his little brother was safe and still with them. The little boy had attached himself to Taiju’s leg and wasn’t letting go.

“Hiroto, I need my leg, bub.”

Hiroto shook his head, refusing to move.

Before Senku could speak, Tsukasa had crouched down and gently scooped Hiroto up. Senku clenched. He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t—his tingling lips didn’t even let him speak. Shite.

Tsukasa cradled Hiroto against his shoulder. “Lead the way.” 

Taiju nodded.

Senku dropped his head wearily. This was out of his hands now. He had to trust Taiju.

Chapter Text

Senku smiled at the wrapped pack of herbs sitting on the small coal burner in their bedroom. Hiroto had been paying attention to classes then.

Slowly he raised his leg. The bruising was substantial, but that wasn’t surprising, both he and Hiroto tended to bruise easily. He’d expected his little adventure into the old subway to have caused some damage. It seemed someone had been reapplying the seaweed compress to his leg wound. Peeling it back gave him a better look at the stitching job he’d managed to do even with his concussion.

Heh—

It wasn’t that bad.

He was glad now that he’d taken the time to make some catgut suture from the deer’s he had managed to bag. Sure, it had added to his list of things to do, but being prepared for any situation was far better than the alternative. Using tiny fish bones as delicate needles he’d sutured up the gnarly wound, and so far, the high salt of the seaweed seemed to be keeping infection away from all his cuts.

This had to continue.

An infection in this stone world would be the end of any one of them.

Without antibiotics—

Wasn’t worth thinking about it.

Senku looked around the bedroom. His spare set of clothes were set out for him, and he reached for them, carefully pulling them on. Heh. Everything still ached. How annoying.

It was with deliberate ease and slowness that he climbed his way out of the treehouse and down into the camp. The morning air was warm. If it was already this warm now, they were going to be in for a rather uncomfortable summer.

“Oh, Senku! You’re awake!”

Senku paused, looking up to spot Taiju on approach. He was chewing on a willow stick, probably to clean his teeth—as it was unlikely he had a headache, or even knew of the aspirin qualities of the willow tree.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Senku tested his wounded leg with a wince. “Who did my wound care?”

“The new guy, he’s pretty good at it.” Taiju set his axe aside, “Though I’m not surprised. You do know who you woke up, right?”

“Yeah, some buff guy called Tsukasa.”

Taiju dramatically dropped his arms back, flopping around. “He’s the Strongest Primate Highschooler.”

Senku burst out laughing. Not a great idea with a healing bruised rib. He wheezed in pain, gripping Taiju for support. His best friend chuckled down at him and his sorry state.

“You did that to yourself.”

“Shut up, oaf.” Senku grumbled.

“Tsukasa is a teen MMA fighter. He’s one of the best. You woke up a champion.” Taiju praised. “I’ve seen his fights. He’s amazing!”

“Great…” The sinking feeling in his gut increased. “Hang on, you watch MMA fights? Taiju, you’re a pacifist.”

“Just cause I’m a pacifist, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the art, or learn how to defend people and myself.” Taiju clenched a fist. “I will never raise my hand to another person to protect myself. Never. But I must…I would…to protect my family.”

This is what he liked about Taiju. His steadfast convictions. They were grounding and solid. He always knew where Taiju stood, and he never had to worry or concern himself over the goalpost being moved with Taiju because Taiju was Taiju.

“So…ah…what’da say to this new guy, you know, about all…this…” Senku shuffled awkwardly.

“Well…” Taiju rubbed his chin, which had begun to get a little hairy again. “I explained the bare minimum, I figured that was the best, yeah. That you and Hiroto woke up first, then I did, and we’ve been working together to survive ever since.”

Taiju washed his dirty hands in the wash basin, scrubbing hard with the soap. Hygiene was something Senku had drilled into them, over and over. Always wash hands and wash feet. Never be slack about it. Infection kills.

It was nice to know that his nattering on had worked, and Taiju had continued to keep up the routine even if he’d been out for a few days. Senku took up a new spear from his collection, rubbing at it sadly. It just wasn’t the same as the first one he’d had—who knew he’d get sentimental over a piece of carved wood of all things. Sheesh.

“So you didn’t say anything about the Revival Fluid, or the Miracle Cave?”

Taiju scratched the back of his neck. “Nah. I kinda figured that science-y stuff is your area. Did I figure right?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good.” Taiju breathed out in relief.

Senku smiled. “Come on, let’s go visit Yuzuriha and apologise for being unable to wake her yet. I’m going to presume that’s where Hiroto is?”

“Yep.”

“Is he pouting?”

“Nahh, once he realised you weren’t on death doors, he bolted.”

“Whoa.” Senku touched his chest, playing insulted. “My own little brother, abandoned me.”

“Pretty sure he’s more enthused by the whole, ‘there be lions out there’ thing.” Taiju laughed. “He’s set on getting himself a ‘real life pokemon’.”

Senku groaned. “Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“And you know what,” Taiju bounced around happily. “He’ll do it.”

“Don’t jinx it, you doofus.” Senku waved his spear about.

“One of these days, we’ll see Hiroto walking back into camp carrying some lion cub.”

“Nope. No. Nope, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

0000

The spring weather was being overly pleasant, which irked Senku. Sure—sure—the uncomfortable itch in his neck may have been the result of the petrification, but something was unnerving him. He simply couldn’t put his finger on it, so he was left making plans and preparations for worse case scenarios.

Yeh—

He wondered if his growing headache was perhaps a result of heightened cortisol levels from the stress.

Breathing in deeply he looked to the sky, and the soft white clouds. Okay—take a moment—appreciate the sweet, gorgeous air that was so, so delicious. Breathe in, breathe out. Fill up the lungs until his aching, healing ribs hurt.

The headache eased a little.

Senku cracked his neck.

“Fucking hell, that’s getting annoying,” he grumbled.

Slowly he shifted his attention to the distillery, and he crouched, watching a drop of ethanol leak out. This time, he wasn’t risking things—or leaving their fate up to his shite bad luck—he was going to make enough Revival Fluid for at least a Plan B, and a Plan C.

Cause he was apparently smart—or something—

Gah.

Why did it take a long time though.

And his leg hurt.

He glanced down at it.

Please don’t be infected.

Please don’t be infected.

He carefully pealed back the dressing and studied the ugly wound. Well—it didn’t look inflamed, or pus-filled. Senku sighed. “I guess this just proves that I am, indeed, a weak arse wuss.”

He cracked his neck again, reducing the tension.

“Senkuuu!”

Hiroto’s loud, frantic cry made him snap to attention. Senku scrambled upright, ignoring his leg. He snatched for his spear and barrelled down the path from the laboratory towards the main camp.

“Hiroto? Hiroto, where are you?”

Why the fuck did he always loose his little brother? He needed to put a bell on the brat.

Hiroto slammed into him, almost knocking him over. Senku struggled to remain standing as the terrified boy tried to climb him as if he were a tree.

“Okay. Okay. Whoa. Okay.” Senku staggered. “Hiroto, what is going on?”

“You need to come! Come quickly! Come!”

Er—

Did Hiroto want to hide, or go? He was giving mixed signals here by hiding in his arms, but also pointing into the forest.

“Senkuuuu! Go! Hurry! You need to save them!”

Save who?

Hiroto began shaking him, and himself. “Go. Go. Go.”

“Okay. Hiroto, calm down. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Senku grabbed Hiroto’s cheeks, squeezing them together. “If I put you down, will you calmy show me what’s gotten you all worked up.”

“Yes.” Hiroto mumbled around his hand.

He set Hiroto down and together they headed into the forest that had long become their home. They’d made pathways and mapped out routes through the trees, learning the rock formations and valley dips and what Senku was sure were old remnants of decaying buildings here and there, but it was hard to gauge. The area from the Camp to the Miracle Cave, with Yuzuriha’s Camphor Tree in between was deemed the ‘safe zone’—though—as they had learnt from the whole lioness incident, it wasn’t exactly ‘safe’.

Some enormous disaster involving a considerable amount of water had torn through this area during the three thousand, seven hundred years and carved out several large ravines in which smaller creeks now ran through, eventually meeting up with the main river. It was one of these ravines that Hiroto led him into.

They had named this ravine The Mall, as it’d been full of statues just walking about. Hundreds of them, happily enjoying a day in some random arse shopping complex probably. There’d been a lot of babies that he’d had to collect and bury for safe keeping. That’d taken him a few days in his early awakening months—but—it had seemed important.

No.

It was important.

Wouldn’t want to wake up a mother, only for her to not have her baby around.

That’d be fucking awful—

Senku stared down at the shattered remains of what had once been a human.

Ah—

He was pretty sure this statue hadn’t been broken into a million pieces the last time he’d taken a stroll through The Mall.

This was—

One of the mothers—

“What…what the hell…”

He slowly slid to his knees as a heat gripped his chest.

What—

What happened—

Why—

He looked through the valley.

Tears burned the edges of his eyes. Not the mothers. He’d spent hours—hours and hours—carving stone bracelets for each one of them and their babies, so he’d know which one was which.

They were all—

No—wait—

Not all of them.

There were statues remaining.

Hiroto was standing next to a girl and a boy, around about his own age and height.

Senku breathed in. Oh—oh—okay—so that’s what was off about this scene.

It was all young people and children.

The adult’s lay in pieces around him.

“Hiroto, what happened here?” Senku called out.

Hiroto had dug a hole and was valiantly attempting to put all the pieces of what was obviously the father of the two children into that hole for safe keeping. He was sobbing. Senku knelt to help him, though he wasn’t sure how much help it would be, that wasn’t important right now. Hiroto saw himself in the children—and he was seeing Byakuya in the man shattered into fragments on the ground.

Hiroto curled into his arms and Senku rocked him. “It’s okay, bub. It’ll be okay.”

“I miss Dad.”

“I know. I know.”

“He’s gone, forever, and ever…and ever…and we never got to say goodbye!”

Senku swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I want Dad. Senku. I want him back. Bring him back!” Hiroto shrieked.

Senku closed his eyes as Hiroto gripped his coat and tried to shake him. He let him unravel until he was a puddle in his lap, and he was left gently patting his back. Seemed he’d been bottling that up for a while.

“I’m sorry, Senku.”

“It’s okay, Hiroto.” Senku brushed at Hiroto’s damp, swollen cheeks. “I miss him too. So much.” He heaved Hiroto up. Oh—gosh—he staggered.

Hiroto giggled.

“You know, bub, soon I’m not going to be able to carry you.” Senku puffed out. “Frankly, you’re already too old for this.”

“Nah ah, I am not.”

“Dude, you’re six.” Senku scoffed. “You’ve got legs. Evolution gave them to you to use.”

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“Tah, fine.” Senku rolled his eyes. “Piggyback then.” It had worked for generations of parents; it’d work for him.

“Yay!” Hiroto bounced about in his arms.

“Alright, alright.” Senku plonked him down and turned around, offering his back. “You still haven’t told me what happened here?”

Hiroto was quiet. Senku peered over his shoulder at his little brother. “Hiroto?”

“It was…” Hiroto looked around before leaning in closer and whispering in his ear. “Your new friend. He doesn’t play nice.”

Senku blinked rapidly, trying to process the information thrown at him in such simplistic language. As he hoisted Hiroto up onto his back, his gaze shifted back across the valley, and the eerie ruins of defenceless people—broken—shattered—deliberately.

Could it be called murder?

Senku sighed. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. Taiju is probably freaking out about where we are since I didn’t leave a note.”

“Yip, yip!” Hiroto bounced. “Go, go.”

This was humiliating. The things one did for kids. Senku smiled as he marched on, ignoring the pain his leg. These precious times together, they wouldn’t be forever. Hiroto would grow, he’d change, he’d no longer want to be carried.

Someday—

Probably someday soon—

This peace wouldn’t be peace.

This soft sunlight, like diamonds against their skin as it shined through the new spring leaves, would turn grey and sour and he would have to protect Hiroto from a terrible storm.

That awful sense of loneliness tightened his throat again.

Don’t panic.

Don’t overthink it.

Heh.

Asking himself to not overthink something was hilarious. For all his posturing that he was totally capable of rationality, he was also capable of death spiralling into oblivion—

Senku halted on the path.

“Senk—”

“Shh.” He silenced Hiroto as he slowly crouched, releasing his little brother from his back. Ahead, two lionesses were tearing into a carcass of a deer—right on their path. He was pretty confident they hadn’t been noticed.

He had some choices.

One—

He could attempt to kill one of them with his sling. His aim was getting extremely accurate. But if he missed, and simply wounded the beast, he wasn’t entirely sure how they’d both react.

Choice two—

He could try burning some of the camphor branches in his kit. Lionesses were just big cats, right? So—if little cats found camphor poisonous, wouldn’t a big cat?

Nah—okay—that’d take way too long—

Choice three—

Sneak around them.

They seemed rather more interested in the deer.

Why bother with two totally lame, very not tasty Humans.

Senku signalled to Hiroto with several hand gestures and carefully, they began to pick their way through the undergrowth. They where a good distance from the two giant felines, far enough away that he was positive they’d escaped that disaster, when Hiroto smacked straight into the arse of the king lion.

Whatever little gremlin had given him a low luck stat, Senku was going to find them, and roast them slowly over a Bunsen burner.

Hiroto shrieked.

Senku leapt over him. That was it—that was all he could do—he was probably going to die immediately, and then Hiroto would die—but his body simply responded to protect. Then nothing happened. Just noise. The lion made some sort of painful huff and grunt. A nearby tree groaned and shattered. Footsteps.

Senku slowly peeled his eyes opened and peered through his hair.

The lion was dead.

Senku snatched Hiroto up, crushing him in a hug. He looked slowly over at the looming figure, hands dripping in blood. Tsukasa had taken on a lion, bare handed, and won.

In this world—

Did strength win?

Was he useless—

Was he worthless—

Senku bent his head, curling around Hiroto.

He couldn’t even protect the thing most precious to him.

As if adding salt to his wound, Tsukasa spoke; “All children are precious. We must treasure them.”

Those words weren’t comforting, they were ominous.

Senku hid Hiroto away in his chest as Tsukasa strolled away, dragging the lion’s corpse behind him.

“Shite…” he whispered.

The fact was, everyone responded differently to crazy situations. This was the test of the human condition, the human soul.

He could not—

Would not—

Let this fucking stone world break him.

Senku gave a shuddering breath. “I think I woke up a demon.”

Fuck his bad luck.

00000

The spring nights still had a bite to them, as though winter was trying to cling tightly to the spinning wheel of the seasons and drag it back in her direction. From his favourite sitting spot at the door of the treehouse bedroom, Senku looked out across the camp, studying their wonderful homey little base. He was going to be loath to leave it.

But—

What was that saying—

All good things come to an end.

Happiness is fleeting—

Or some nihilistic shite like that.

He sighed and reached back into the bedroom, tugging at one of the spare bed-wraps. It was time to attack a problem head-on and see where that got him.

Senku hoisted himself down the ladder and headed towards the campfire. Someone, always, kept it going, and tonight Tsukasa was on watch—because he’d insisted on it.

Alright—

Yeah—

Senku swallowed.

Approaching Tsukasa made his knees shake. He’d admit that. He wasn’t an idiot. The guy radiated incredible strength and knew how to use that strength. It was terrifying. In this world—right now—

Tsukasa was king.

And he looked it, sitting there, in the flickering fire light, as he idly worked on crafting his new lion hide coat.

“What do you want, Senku.” Tsukasa looked up.

Heh.

Should have known there was no way to sneak up on the guy.

Senku held out the blanket. “You can come and sleep in the treehouse you know, you don’t have to be on watch.”

“It is my duty to protect you. I will do as I must.”

Senku pulled a disgusted face at the flat-out, annoying facade. “Fine. Whatever, you do you.” He tossed a hand about dismissively, moving to head back to the tree house.

“Senku.”

Ah—

There it was—

The reaction—

Senku halted at the soft, warm voice. It was supposed to be such a kind voice, at just the right tenor to be considered rich and captivating, but all it did was terrify him. He was alone, completely defenceless, and the crushing weight of a hand far stronger than anything he had ever felt, gripped his shoulder.

It would bruise.

Tsukasa bent closer.

In the night’s rich, thick darkness, lit only by their camps fire, they remained taunt—as still as the statues that haunted their stone world.

“How did you wake me?” Tsukasa asked.

“By pissing on you.” Senku mocked.

The grip on his shoulder tightened. Senku tipped his head to the side at the sharp pain.

“Let go of me.” Senku hissed.

“Why should I.”

“Because if you do not. I will poison your food.”

“You are not a murderer.” There was amusement in Tsakasa’s tone, and that annoyed Senku, it annoyed him so much.

“No, but I can make you shite out your insides until nature takes you.” Senku snapped back.

He was slammed up against a tree. Dangling. His feet barely touching the ground.

Fucking—shite—

Senku choked. Did this guy only know how to hurt people?

“You know what I have been doing.” Tsukasa bore his weight down upon him.

Senku gripped at the hand around his throat. “You mean fucking up the statues of the adults, yeah, I know. You’ve traumatized my little brother.”

“We have an opportunity to start this paradise anew…for the pure and the innocent to inherit this untouched world. Why would we ever awaken those who would take it from us, those who abused us, the black hearted and greedy adults! Don’t you understand…right now…this world is natural…not owned by anyone. We must make sure we keep it that way.”

“By murdering.”

“It is our chance to purify humanity.”

Wow—yeah—okay—

Those wild, blow-out eyes were fucking insane.

“What I understand…” Senku took a struggling breath. “Is that you’re extreme, and none of this moves me a single millimetre, so please remove your fucking hand from my throat!”

He was released.

Senku dropped to the ground, gagging. He almost vomited. His trembling hand brushed at his throat. That was—that wasn’t good—it was going to be obvious to Taiju that something had happened. He’d have to think of a way to hide the bruising.

Slowly, Senku looked up, glaring at Tsukasa through his hair, loosened from its topknot bun. He thrust up his middle finger at the teen—no—a tyrant. A king. That’s what he wanted to be in this resetting of humanity.

“Do not taunt what you cannot fight.” Tsukasa commented with a hint of mockery.

“You honestly think muscles are all it takes, yeah.” Senku muttered.

“Indeed.” Tsukasa moved back to the campfire. “As long as you do not attempt to stop me from my path, I will continue to protect you, and your little brother.”

“You have a sucky way of protecting someone.” Senku scoffed.

“I will cook my own food.”

Senku leered. “Yeah, you fucking should.”

0000

It was a fascinating thing, not having mirrors. Senku hadn’t ever really thought that he’d miss the concept of a mirror. It wasn’t like he’d been someone absorbed by self-image. He hadn’t even really observed his personal image at times. There had been days when Dad had halted him at the front door of the apartment, grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and marched him right back into the bathroom to forcefully braid his hair into something that’d pass their schools uniform policy.

He’d had a medical exception for a lot of things at school, his hair being one of them. He hadn’t needed to dye it black, or brown, the argument being that it’d have made him look even more unusual than he already did look. He’d always kept it long, because it was so fragile and whimsy that when cut short, he basically looked bald.

So—

Perhaps he did have some notion of his physical appearance, since he had a personal preference of keeping his hair long.

Senku studied himself in the wavery reflection of the river. It was the best he could manage, nature’s mirror. It wasn’t really helping him though; he simply couldn’t tell if the patchwork job he’d done to his leather coat hid all the bruising Tsukasa’s bone-crushing grip had caused around his neck.

He let his hands fall away and drop to his knees. “It’ll just have to do.”

It hurt to speak.

He was lucky the swelling wasn’t so bad it was cutting off his air.

Still—

His plan was in motion.

Hopefully.

Wearily he eased himself up from the riverbank. “Hiroto! Come on, we’re going!”

He had supplies he needed to deliver to the emergency depot drop. They were more important now than ever. He had no idea how things were going to pan out, so he had to be prepared for any one of the possible scenarios that were in play. He heaved his bags over his shoulder.

“Hiroto!”

“Coming!”

His little brother burst out of some bushes, throwing arms into the air. “Tah dah!”

“Wow…magic…” Senku drawled.

“Did I scare you?!”

“Ah…yeah, totally.” Senku stuck a finger in his ear. “Come on, you can carry that bag.”

Hiroto grabbed a small leather pack, acting as if it was the heaviest thing in existence by dramatically heaving and huffing his way down the path. Senku rolled his eyes at the hilarious display.

It took them a good two hours of hiking to reach the last of his emergency stashes, at the furthest point of their ‘territory’. This far out, it was dangerous, and he usually didn’t like bringing Hiroto with him, but hell was he leaving his little brother in camp.

“Don’t run off.” Senku warned as Hiroto immediately vanished into the thick forest. He sighed. The brat had become far too comfortable in this scary, alien world. Kids adapted to quickly. It was weird. He still felt like he was out of time and place, and it scared him, every morning he woke up, he felt the weight of the years he’d counted. He felt the responsibility to try—try—to save as many as he could.

Peering down into the hollowed-out tree where his hidden stash was Senku heaved the leather bag out and began sorting through it all. Good, it was all here. He added the new medical supplies, the extra bedroll, the large bag of potassium nitrate he’d had a fucking hell of a time cooking up on the side, and the—

He studied bottle of Revival Fluid.

“Sorry Taiju…” he whispered.

He did feel like shite, keeping it from his best friend, but right now, he had to have a back up plan. If things went south—which knowing his bad-luck, they probably would—he had to have options.

With a sigh he added the extra bottle of Revival Fluid, along with a new sling. He pulled out a wad of leather, in which he had spent a painstaking evening burning survival tips into—because Taiju still couldn’t tell the fucking difference between different types of mushrooms, and it terrified him.

“He’ll kill himself.” Senku dropped his head down between his knees. “I can’t leave them…they’d never last…” His legs jiggled as anxiety built.

Hang on—wait—

Wait a minute—

Senku snapped his head up.

Where was Hiroto?

“Gah.” Senku stood. “Hiroto! We need to talk about this, okay…you can’t keep running off…” He snatched up his spear and headed after his sibling. “Hiroto! Oie! Hiroto! Respond! Hiroto! Hiroto—”

Senku halted abruptly, his hand snatching for his sling. Hiroto was folded over a furry little bundle, whispering to it softly.

“Hiroto, get away from it.”

“No! It’s hurt. Can you fix it?”

Fix…fix it? Senku blinked. He nursed his head. Shite. Slowly he approached, crouching down.

Aw—no—

Nope—

No—

Not happening—

“Hiroto—”

“Please…please…please…please…please…” Hiroto begged.

Senku clasped his face, groaning.

Why him. Why! If it’d been a normal, domesticated house cat, sure—fine—whatever—but a fucking lion cub!

“He’s all alone, he has no one! They abandoned him. He’s hurt! He needs us!”

“Ah, sorry to burst your bubble, Hiroto, but that’s a female, that’s a lioness.” Senku mumbled absently as he sorted through his medical kit.

“Oh.” Hiroto wrapped his arms around the dangerous beast. “Guess Simba won’t do then.”

“Simba? Come on, be a little more original.”

“Simba is the best!”

“So lame.” Senku grumbled as he studied the wound on the cub’s leg. Well. If he sutured it up, and they gave it proper wound care, there was a possibility it’d survive. There was always the possibility.

“Can I keep her.” Those big, hopeful eyes looked up at him with all the power of a super-nova. He had no way of escaping their effect. He was consumed. 

“Fine. Whatever. Lion cub. Cool.” He was sure he had something in his mental catalogue about the domestication of wild giant cats, it looked young enough to start the process.

He cracked his neck. “This is how it starts…”

Now he was going to have to make some sort of sling to carry the damn thing back to camp. Heh. Life just loved to throw challenges at him.

00000

Hiroto had decided name the lioness cub Nala—just because.

“You remember the whole script of the Lion King movie, right?” Taiju asked late that night while sitting around their fire.

“Er.” Senku paused, mentally flipping through his internal library catalogue. “Sure. Watched it enough times.” He looked down at Hiroto, curled up in a leather shawl and wrapped around a sleeping Nala. If only he had a camera. It was adorable. Someday…someday his little brother wouldn’t be so little, and these precious little moments—they’d only be accessible in his internal library of memories.

“Well, come on.” Taiju motioned at him.

“I’m not doing The Lion King.”

“Please, Senku…please!” Hiroto wiggled about.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, brat.” Senku narrowed his glare at his brother.

“Please!”

“Fine.”

Taiju pumped his fist in victory.

Tsukasa eased forward curiously. Senku ignored him. He cracked his pained neck and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He smiled down at Hiroto then over at Taiju, both already looking hopeful and eager for a story. Was this how it had once been, when Humans had been without their wonders of technology? Had it been this sort of simplicity of storytelling? Heh—actually—he wouldn’t call it simple. There was nothing simple about remembering the whole script of The Fucking Lion King.

He let the movie play in his mind.

And he began reciting:

“As the sun rises over the great African plains, tinting the world a glorious, inky red, the gradual roar of a stampede begins. Today is a very important day, it is crowning of a new prince, and all the animals of the plains have been summoned to Pride Rock to witness the beginning of a new age…”

Chapter Text

It was a completely ordinary day.

Or as ordinary as living in a stone world could be now.

They always were, though. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe Senku needed to start distrusting ordinary days, viewing them with more skepticism. He was sitting on a surprisingly comfortable rock for his skinny arse, dangling his feet into the soft sand, wiggling his toes at the waves as they every so often jollied onto the beach. Half his attention was on the fishing hooks he was fashioning, his other half was on Hiroto, playing happily in the ocean shallows with Nala. There was a lot of squealing and laughter going on. Nala had firmly attached herself to Hiroto’s side over the past few days, and while she could be rough with her obvious play-housing, none of it was aggressive. But it wasn’t like he stopped watching them.

Though he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do to intervene.

Yeah—

He’d made a dumb decision.

Hopefully all his lame luck would stick itself to that one decision though, and it’d be a good decision. Maybe just once—once in his life—

Please.

Senku stiffened, pausing from carving his fishhook. Tsukasa’s heavy presence emerged from behind him, like a thick shroud, smothering the nice, peaceful, lovely ordinary day.

“You should kill it. It is unsafe.”

“Your opinion is noted.” Senku drawled. “And dismissed.”

“If you do not, I shall.”

“Do not go a single millimetre near my little brother.” Senku raised his carving knife, his expression shifting. “Taiju is the pacifist, I am not.”

Tsukasa inclined his head. “You have made your point.”

“Yeah, you’ve made yours.” Senku cracked his stiffened neck.

“I apologize for harming you.”

The weird and annoying thing was, Tsukasa actually sounded sorry, and Senku wasn’t sure if it was a manipulative technique, or if he was genuine.

“No shite.” Senku deadpanned. “Really? Wow. Thanks.”

“Surely you must understand that if you pursue a path of science, that you will lose the harmony with nature that your little brother so loves right now.” Tsukasa motioned to Hiroto and Nala.  

Senku held up the fishhook. “Without science, we wouldn’t have simple tools like this. Science is the application of the human mind, our insufficient attempts to unravel and make sense of wonders too great for our comprehension.”

“Science created weapons.”

“I’m pretty sure Cain killed Abel with a fucking rock.” Senku mocked. “Humans have been murdering other humans long before advanced weaponry existed.” He bent over and picked up one of the smooth rocks, taking out his sling. “This…this is science.” He held the sling and rock out. “Everything is science.”   

“Perhaps to someone such as yourself.” Tsukasa offered. “But the world was never so beautiful to me. It is now, and I will strive to keep it this beautiful, with only the young and the pure awakened, it shall be a paradise without pain or suffering.”

Senku squinted at him. “Okay…sure…and…exactly how, in this hypothetical paradise are you going to stop all these young people from, I donno, doing stupid young people shite. Even I’ll admit…” he touched his chest. “I am an idiot when I am manipulated by my irrationality and emotions, and usually, that’s when I suffer.”

Tsukasa frowned.

“In this paradise you’re talking about, guess what’s going to happen...suffering.” Senku held up two fingers. “You’re going to have sex and violence. Lots of it. With sex comes babies.”

Tsukasa sighed and deliberately rolled his eyes.

“You’ll have to establish rules about that.” Senku smirked. “Have fun being all weird and superior and creepy. You’ll need food regulation; you’ll need medical care. People will die from infection. Simple infections. We have no antibiotics. Want me go into the harsh winter we had? That was shite. You’ll probably loose…I donno…half your population to the winter alone if you’re not prepared. Life expectancy will be about thirty if you’re shite at the game, fifty if you’re a pro.”

“That is good.”

“How is that good?” Senku slapped his hands down. “Nothing will progress. You will be constantly living in a state of survival. That is not good. Society cannot advance when it’s in survival mode.” His tone pitched in frustration. Nothing he was saying seemed to be making a squat of difference.

Tsukasa looked out across the ocean. “Imagine if we did bring everyone back. We’d log this forest. We’d build cities again. We’d pillage the earth as we did before. We never learn. Humanity is filthy.”

Senku blew a rasp. “You’re going to condemn the whole of humanity for their sins against…what…mother nature?”

“Yes. We are a disease.” Tsukasa motioned to their surrounds. “It has thrived without us.”

Senku glanced around. He couldn’t deny that.

“And what gives you the right to be judge, jury and executioner?”

“I give myself the right.”

“That, right there…” Senku looked right up at him, staring into the warm brown eyes. “Sounds very human. The embodiment of ego. You, and you alone, are right.”

Tsukasa smiled at him.

“Did not your science tell us the world was dying? Would it not be a good thing for humans to go back to a simpler time, to be less…invasive.”

Senku snorted in amusement. “That’s the funny thing, the universe is running down, everything is dying, Tsukasa. There is no stop to death. Not even the universe can escape death.” He looked up at the sky. “So no, I don’t think it’d be a good thing at all for humans to fade away. We’re here, on Earth, because we were the bright spark that burned with intelligence. Don’t ever, ever think that was a mistake. It’s wonderful. It’s a gift.” He touched his chest, his beating heart. “Being alive is the most incredible thing—”

“Senkuuuuu!” Taiju’s loud, hilariously obnoxious voice echoed down the beach. All attention went straight to the big oaf as he ran towards them, tearing up the sand. He held a pot above his hands.

“Senku! Look! Look! I got this in the Miracle Cave! There is enough to make some more Revival Fluid! We can wake Yuzuriha.”

Really Taiju?

Really?

Really!

Senku slapped his face as Hiroto began squealing in excitement. His little brother latched onto him.

“Make it! Make it! Make it! Wake sis! Wake sis! Wake sis!”

Taiju joined in the chanting.

Great.

Now there were two idiots.

Senku glanced at Tsukasa. Yep. The guy’s whole attention was on the little jar of fluid that Taiju was holding. This was it. Taiju had busted open a door and Tsukasa was going to march right on in and take their treasure.

Senku had known something like this was coming. He’d prepared for it, but he hadn’t expected it to be that—

That—obviously idiotic—

Should he have though?

Because it was Taiju.

He’d expected Tsukasa to find the Miracle Cave on his own explorations and come threaten him again, triggering several possible scenarios.

But this—

Okay no, no, no, he could work with this. Rethink. Quickly. Quickly. Process.

Senku clapped his hands together, getting Taiju and Hiroto’s attention sharply. “You’re right. I think Yuzuriha has been sleeping long enough. Let’s go wake her.”

“Yay! Yay! Yay!” Hiroto bounced around. “Wake sis! Wake sis!”

“Come on then. To the Laboratory!” Senku twirled on his feet, trying to cool his thundering heart as Tsukasa’s eyes burned into his back. Either way this went, he’d lost the Miracle Cave. Tsukasa would never let him near it again. Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to prepare ahead of time for that scenario.

0000

Senku fetched the ingredients he needed from the laboratory, they each took their emergency packs—apart of Tsukasa, who never did seem to bother with the concept—and off they headed for Yuzuriha and the Camphor Tree. There was a horrible sense of anxiety bubbling away in Senku’s chest as they treaded a familiar path that was now well worn.

He had to hope that Tsukasa took the bait.

Seeing Yuzuriha encased in the Camphor Tree really did solidify the reality of their situation, that this had happened—they weren’t just living in some strange dream. She was still there, waiting for them, like a trapped princess.

And here they all were, bumbling, idiotic morons trying to get her out.

She’d have thought it all rather hilarious if she was actually awake.

Hiroto was deliberate in making sure her dress was properly ‘set’, glaring at Taiju the entire time. Senku smirked to himself as he crouched down, setting out his equipment.

“See, Hiroto is a proper little gentleman,” he quipped up at Taiju.

“What, unlike you, who doesn’t even notice boobs,” Taiju teased back.

“I notice. I’m just not a neanderthal about it.”

Taiju blew a rasp at him. “Loser.”

“Airhead.”

“Nerd.”  

They both laughed. Senku relaxed a little. Okay—yeah—he was fine. He could do this. He was great at acting. Totally a natural. Just ignore how Tsukasa was bearing down upon him like some sort of Dark Lord.

He gave Nala a little scratch under the chin as the lioness settled herself down beside him. Hiroto called out. “She loves you!”

“Naturally, I am extremely loveable.” Senku started mixing ingredients.

Taiju gave a fond snort.

“Oh…” Senku sat back on his hunches.

At his upward tonal inflection, Hiroto and Taiju looked at him with just the perfect amount of believable horror on their faces. Ah—fantastic—that was what he wanted.

“I don’t seem to have enough…”

“What…no…” Taiju flustered about in a panic.

Hiroto started sobbing. Senku felt a stab of guilt. Okay. Not great, making his little brother cry, though it was doing fantastic in helping sell the whole thing to Tsukasa.

“Okay. No. Hiroto. Hiroto it’s fine!” Taiju tried to placate. “I’ll just run back to the Miracle Cave and get us some more. Don’t you worry! We’ll wake Yuzuriha today!”

Taiju breathed in and geared up to run, only to be abruptly smacked to a halt by Tsukasa grabbing him. “No, I will go. I am faster.”

Taiju choked on a gasp of air, managing to keep on his feet.

Senku stood, frowning. “Logical.”

“Indeed.” Tsukasa agreed. “Where is this…”

“Miracle Cave!” Hiroto burst out.

Senku forced himself not to flinch. “That’s right,” he crouched down, ruffling Hiroto’s hair. Acting natural, he let himself drawl out the words. “Hiroto called it the Miracle Cave. You’ll find it down in the third ravine, the one we call School Zone. I keep pots there; they fill with the fluid we need. You’ll see when you arrive.”

“I see.” Tsukasa turned. “I shall return soon. Do not worry, Taiju, we shall free your girlfriend.”

“She’s…not…” Taiju spluttered, but Tsukasa was already gone.

Senku chuckled. He turned back to Hiroto, rubbing the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He soothed. “Taiju, can you get Yuzuriha down. We’re heading back to camp.”

“What…why?”

“I’ll explain when we reach camp. Let’s go.”

Taiju didn’t argue. Senku quickly packed up his gear. Hiroto’s brow furrowed, and his little brother’s hand wrapped around the harness attached to Nala.

“Hiroto…” Senku whispered down at him. “Don’t stray from my side.”

Hiroto nodded.

His taunt shoulders eased just a little. At least Hiroto could tell that something had shifted, and it was time to stick close.

They found themselves back at the laboratory again, and this time, Senku set himself to work properly mixing the right fluids he’d set aside for safe keeping. Hiroto stared at the jars, and then at the ones he’s taken along with them to the Camphor Tree.

“You faked it,” his little brother whispered in awe.

“I did.”  

“Because Tsukasa is not a nice friend.”

Senku sighed. How to explain this simplistically—

Oh—

To late—

Taiju blustered in, heaving air and looking very anxious. Senku gave Hiroto a gentle nudge. “Wait outside with Nala, stay right next to Yuzuriha and Nala, do not go anywhere.”

“I understand.”

“If you see Tsukasa, hide.”

“Yes.”

Hiroto quickly ducked between Taiju’s legs and out the main door. Senku started mixing the Revival Fluid.

“I thought you said you didn’t have enough.” Taiju’s big frame hovered over his shoulder. Warm. Compressed. So different from Tsukasa’s overpowering presence.

“Have you ever, ever known me to ever misjudge something?”

“Oh…” Taiju looked to the side sheepishly. “Ohhhhhh….”

Senku flicked Taiju’s nose. “Oaf.”

Taiju leant back against the wall. “Why would you send Tsukasa away like that? Why the ruse?”

“Because he was going to find out the location of the Miracle Cave eventually, and this way, it got him away from Hiroto and Yuzuriha, our two most vulnerable members.”

Taiju tensed up. “I don’t understand. Tsukasa is an awesome guy.”

“His ideals are a little extreme.”

“I see.” Taiju nodded slowly.

“This has become a civilization building game.” Senku flashed a grin. “I’ll be honest, that is rather thrilling.”

Taiju’s solemn expression didn’t shift. “Senku…something happened…didn’t it?”

Shite—

Senku was quiet.

Did he show him? Hiroto was outside, but he might overhear—or—worse—see—

Did he dare allow a moment of vulnerability.

Ah, fuck—

This was Taiju.

His best friend.

He’d fallen apart in front Taiju before.

Taiju had carried him upstairs, into ambulances, had sat with him for hours during hospital stays. Never had Taiju thought him weak, or pathetic for those instances. If anything, it had been his own frustrations that had clouded his rationality.

They always did though. As rational as he liked to think himself, he was still human, he still fell down the hole of emotions and kicking himself. No one was above human nature itself.

What was this ludicrousness from him. He finally felt just a bit stronger, and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t rely on people—no—not people—his best friend.

He was a shite person.

“Yeah. You’re right…” Senku whispered. “Tsukasa Shishio is an awesome guy…” Senku slowly pulled own his oversized, thickened coat, revealing the bruising around his throat and shoulders. “Who also happens to be a murderer.”

Taiju’s jaw tightened.

Really.

Tsukasa should be glad Taiju was a pacifist. Senku was pretty sure the universe made him one, because if he wasn’t—

Well—

One mighty warrior was enough right now.

“I trust you to make the right decision.” Taiju murmured.

Powerful words. Senku felt them in every cell. It was an immerse responsibility in this world—this stone world—to be trusted with people’s lives.

Senku picked up the vial of the Revival Fluid, passing it to Taiju. “Then go wake up your girlfriend. And be quick about it. We’re on a time crunch.”

“Got it!”

000000

Yuzuriha took a breath.

Bright light.

Voices.

Familiar voices.

Her body burned, prickling with pins, skin on fire.

She stumbled backwards, into strong arms, and felt a solidness as she was pulled into a tight embrace. A warm musky scent eased her panic.

“T…Taiju…” she whispered.

“Yuzuriha…” his large, roughened hands, the pads of his fingers calloused, stroked her cheeks with such soft tenderness it made her chest flutter. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry I made you wait.”

She wanted to lift her own arm, to wipe away his tears, but her limbs weren’t really working all that well. Something had happened. She—she remembered a bright green light—Taiju’s loud cry of warning.

And then.

Now. Waking up.

“It’s okay.” She assured as Taiju eased her up, setting her own feet and she peered around. This wasn’t the school yard. She was in some sort of makeshift camp. The air smelt of smoke from a nearby firepit. Yuzuriha picked at the clothes she was wearing. They were crudely made, but, decent enough she supposed.

She could have done better.

At least she was clothed.

Her legs were being hugged tightly by Hiroto, and off to the side, Senku was standing awkwardly, away from them, his body turned. Yuzuriha’s lips parted. It was always the same with him, his body language tried to show respect, but what it was really showing was a sense of distance and hesitancy.

She held out a hand to him and he smiled, inclining his head, letting her slip her fingers between his and slowly, she sunk against him, curling around him. Yuzuriha clutched at his back, breathing in deeply.

“Thank you…” she whispered. He must have saved her from something awful.

“Always.” He knocked her chin with his knuckles fondly before giving Hiroto and gentle nudge. “Stop smothering, bub.”

Hiroto shook his head, burying into her legs deeper. Yuzuriha smiled. “It’s fine.”

“He’s clingy.” Senku sighed.

Yuzuriha looked between the three of them, her brow furrowing. Something about her boys had changed.

“How long…?”

Senku cracked his neck. “Technically, over three thousand seven hundred years.”

“Oh gosh.” Yuzuriha covered her mouth.

“But Hiroto and I have been awake for almost two years now, Taiju for about a year.” Senku continued.

She knew he could be much more accurate than that, but he’d learnt not to be. Personally she thought it a bit of a shame he’d forced himself to change for people, but Senku had always been the type to want to make other people comfortable, even if he didn’t come across as such.

She looked between them both. The time explained a little of how uncomfortable she was feeling in their presence. Senku appeared physically older, his shoulders just a little broader, and she was now looking up at his eyes. It was so alarming, since she’d only last seen him—

Maybe—

And hour ago—

Her head spun.

Taiju caught her. “Whoa there…whoa…”

“Sorry…” Yuzuriha swallowed the feeling of bile in her throat. Senku held out a bamboo cup of water.

“I wish I could say to you to take it easy, but we can’t, we need to get moving. You guys have some options and you need to make a decision.”

“Yeah,” Taiju took her hands. “We’re in a bit of a hurry. There is this guy, Tsukasa—”

“He’s not a nice friend.” Hiroto burst out. Yuzuriha looked down at Senku’s little brother and her chest tightened. Oh—oh—

She squished his cheeks.

“Sis! Nooooo!” Hiroto wiggled about.

“Tsukasa is a murderer.”

Yuzuriha halted her tickling of Hiroto. She froze. Wait. What. Murderer. She jerked her attention back to Taiju and Senku, her eyes widening. They weren’t joking. They were serious.

“That’s a little harsh, Taiju, calling me a murderer.” A melodious, warm voice seemed to completely throw both Senku and Taiju. Taiju took an immediate defensive stance.

“Shite.” Senku moved, a lot faster than Yuzuriha was used to him moving. He was immediately in front of her and Hiroto, his body, acting like a shield. Since when had Senku ever reacted so emotionally—

No—

He always had.

It was just more obvious with a few of them present.

It was only more obvious, because he was acting as a protector, in a situation they had never before been confronted with, but Senku had always—always watched out for her, in his own way.

From out of the forest a taller, larger teen emerged and Yuzuriha’s toes curled into the dirt beneath her. As strong as Taiju was, and she knew him to be fiercely strong, something in her gut warned her that this new teen had reached another level entirely. Hiroto clutched at the lioness cub, burying his head in the furry little creature.

Yuzuriha looked to Senku. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to take Hiroto and run? If things went bad, should she try to escape on her own? They’d said murderer—was this teen trying to murder all of them?

Dread filled her.

What if her boys were killed, leaving her alone with this teen.

No—

No—

No—

“Stay back, Tsukasa.” Taiju raised his fists.

“I suppose you won’t be needing this then.” Tsukasa placed a small brown bottle down on a tree stub. “I presume there is more to the mixture, Senku.”

“Maybe.” Senku shrugged.

“I see.”

“You need to stop destroying the statues.” Taiju drew attention back to himself. “You are murdering people. That’s wrong.”

“I will only allow the revival of the young and the pure.”

Yuzuriha crouched down, covering Hiroto’s ears. He buried himself into her chest. He was shaking. Oh gosh. He was terrified.   

“Oh, you…” Taiju took offense. “You will only allow.”

“Indeed.” Tsukasa inclined his head. “And if you do not agree, I will kill you.”

“Try it.” Taiju threatened.

Yuzuriha breathed out.

That—

Was that her Taiju? He never fought. She looked up in horror, and the world seemed to just crash around her in a rush. Tsukasa moved tremulously fast, like lightning, and even the sound of his feet slapping the ground echoed in her ears.

Senku had grabbed for something in a nearby container, and Yuzuriha barely registered that it was weapon—not just any weapon—he’d made a functioning crossbow and he fired it at the charging Tsukasa.

There was a snapping crack as Tsukasa launched, airborne, snatching the arrow, shattering it, while his foot made impact on Taiju’s strong defensive stance. Taiju stepped back, a single pace, taking the blow like a steel metal pole.

Tsukasa threw the shattered piece of the arrow at Senku, sneering at him.

“A weapon,” he spat the words. “How typical of you.”

“Oh, so were you expecting me to grab you by the throat and slam you into a tree?” Senku arched an eyebrow and drawled out sarcastically. “Cause, yeah, I’m super capable of that.”

“You are weak.” Tsukasa approached Senku. “Weak things have no right to exist. Weak things die.”

Senku slowly eased to his feet. He was so small, so pale—covered in a layer of sweat, and his chest was heaving in gasps of air. Yuzuriha struggled to hold Hiroto as he tried to wiggle out of her arms, no longer obliging to having his ears and eyes covered.

Senku cocked his head defiantly. “Look me in the eyes, Tsukasa. Am I weak.”

Never.

Yuzuriha’s dry lips popped.

That was never a word she would have ever associated with Senku.

The crossbow was ripped from his grasp and cracked apart, landing at his feet. Senku did not flinch. Tsukasa dismissed him entirely now that the threat was gone from his grasp, turning his full attention to Taiju.

“We both know you can never fight me, Taiju.”

“Perhaps not, but you can keep hitting me, and not break the statues.”

Senku looked just as perplexed as Tsukasa in that moment.

Yuzuriha blinked. Heh. What?

“I…I don’t understand.” Tsukasa murmured, his brow furrowing tight.

“Every time you want to break a statue. Hit me instead.” Taiju insisted.

“You’re not making a deal.” Tsukasa shook his head. “If you insist on getting in my way, I will kill you—”

Yuzuriha couldn’t help it, she screamed when Taiju keeled over suddenly, slamming into the ground like a brick. Hiroto started wailing in fright. Senku heaved him up as the boy began to panic, shaking and crying in hysterics.

“Okay. Okay. Hiroto…calm down…Taiju’s fine. He’s not dead.”

That wasn’t helping. Yuzuriha folded over Taiju protectively, glaring through her hair up at Tsukasa. She did not know this teen, but he had hurt her best friends, and filled a child with terror and fear. That was not okay.

“Guess my strike did some damage after all. Thought it unusual he remained standing.” Tsukasa mused to himself. “You should tend to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not—”

Senku kicked her lightly, and she clamped her mouth shut. “He’s going to take a few days to recover, most likely, bet you rattled his brain around, gave him a concussion.”

“You and Taiju should focus on what truly matters, protecting what is dearest to you.” Tsukasa moved to tweak Hiroto’s chin, only backing up as a low growl came from the tiny lioness cub by Senku’s ankles.

Was Tsukasa threating her and Hiroto? Yuzuriha felt a cold shiver.

“As long as you don’t get in my way, we won’t have an issue.” Tsukasa offered to Senku, strolling past him, bearing down with an enormous force that Yuzuriha could feel like a crushing bolder. Senku still didn’t falter. He still remained standing, his eyes cold.

Yuzuriha curled around Taiju.

What had she awoken too?

What was this world—

Tears dampened her cheeks. Senku crouched beside her, his arms gentle as they encased her. She couldn’t recall him ever feeling his strong, and this solid before.

This new world had changed him—

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Senku’s arms ached from carrying Hiroto. The fact was the kid was heavy, weighing about thirty kilograms, maybe—which was light for his age—but when one carried thirty kilograms around for a long time, it didn’t feel light.

But Hiroto had reached pitch hysteria, overwhelmed by fear, which had resulted in his little brother completely shutting down and just clinging desperately to him with such a vice grip Senku was sure he’d find bruising later.

At least Taiju was up, a little groggy and woozy, but proclaiming he was good to go. Senku still dragged him down to the laboratory to patch up his bleeding scalp wound, disinfecting it with the alcohol and carefully stitching it.

“You’re getting really good at this…” Taiju sighed, feeling the suture job.

“Don’t touch it!” Senku slapped at him. “Getting your grotty hands all over a wound. Gross.”

“I’m just saying, you’re getting more like old-man Byakuya every day.”

“I suppose that is a compliment.” Senku massaged his burning shoulders. Yuzuriha had managed to pry Hiroto off him and how she was dealing with the clinging child. This freed him up to glance around the laboratory one last time, checking if there really was anything he’d missed—anything he needed.

No—

He didn’t think so—

He had everything.

Okay.

Time to leave.

This—

This was painful.

He knocked over a few things, letting them smash on the floor. Just a few things. Nothing too dramatic. Tsukasa wasn’t a fool.

“Senku, what are you doing?” Taiju gasped.

“Making a scene. Hopefully Tsukasa will think we panicked.”

“You are panicking.” Yuzuriha offered.

Senku looked at her. She’d just woken up, and she already had a grasp of the situation. He smiled at her, and she arched an eyebrow. “Senku.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got this.” He took her shoulders, shuffled her to the side to reach for his medical kit, strapping it around his hips.

“I know.” Yuzuriha assured.

Senku brushed at Hiroto’s damp cheeks. “Come on, bub. I need you to get on your feet for me, we’ve got a long way to go.”

“I don wanna.”

“I know.” Senku snuggled their noses together. “But we all have to be brave together. I don’t want to do it either.”

He didn’t.

He really didn’t.

Hiroto looked up at Yuzuriha and she smiled. “It’ll be okay, let’s trust your big brother.”

“Okay…” Hiroto nodded and slid down, landing on his feet. “I’ll got get Nala’s pack.”

They followed him back to the tree house. Their home. Taiju rested a hand on his shoulder and Senku reached up to grip it.

“We’ll come back someday.” Taiju assured.

“Nah. Let’s not get sentimental. It has served it’s purpose. Let’s look forward, to the future.” Senku dragged out a pack, offering it to Taiju. “That’s where our paths lie.”

“Er…shouldn’t we pack more?” Taiju worried as he hoisted the pack over his shoulders. “We don’t even have bedding.”

Senku motioned with a thumb into the forest. “I’ve got an emergency stash a couple hours south of here. On the edge of our territory. It has what you need.”

“We need.” Taiju frowned. “It has what we need.”

“I won’t be going with—”

His two best friends smothered him, pressing him back against the tree. “Okay.” He raised his hands. “Guess you’re picking option number two.”

Yuzuriha hit him. “You idiot! Why would option number one be us abandoning you!”

“Because I’m the one Tsukasa wants. I am putting you both in danger.”

She kept slapping him. “Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. Sorry.” Senku laughed.

“For a smart guy, you are such an idiot.” Yuzuriha huffed out in indignation. “As if we would ever! Ever!”

“Yeah!” Taiju blustered, sweeping Hiroto up onto his shoulders as if he wasn’t burdened by already carrying a stack of gear. “Your brother is very dense sometimes.”

Hiroto looked down at him with scathing disproval.

“Wow. Sheesh.” Senku rolled his eyes. “I get it, I get it. Option number two.”

“And what is option number two?” Yuzuriha asked as they headed down the path.

Senku gave a weary grin. “If we can make some weapons of science before Tsukasa realises what we’re up too...victory may be ours…but…” He tipped his head back. “If he gets wise to us…game…over…”

“Okay. Sure.” Taiju held onto Hiroto’s legs as he twirled around enthusiastically. “A treasure hunt!”

Senku crouched down, lashing up Nala’s leash and handing her a spot of meat as he clicked his tongue in approval. “We’re gonna hunt for materials to make weapons, starting at Hakone.”

“Hakone!” Yuzuriha gasped. “Senku!”

“Aw, just think of it as a big eighty-kilometre adventure.” He tired to put on a cheerful face.

Yuzuriha raised her brow at him. “Ah ha.”

Yep. She was not buying his fake enthusiasm at all.

“Oh, yeah, that’s like two marathons. Totally doable. Let’s knock it out in five hours!” Taiju was already marching on.

“Doable he says. Five hours. Freak of nature.” Senku rolled his eyes, offering his hand to Yuzuriha, keeping the other around Nala’s leash. “Come on, take it easy, you still only just woke up.”

“Thanks, Senku.” She rubbed at her watery eyes. “But…but I’ll be okay.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand.  

Reaching his stashed supplies made the reality sink in. They were actually going to do this. He was going to lead them on a mad quest into an unknown, untamed world. There was no telling what lay out there—what had happened in almost four thousand years.

Taiju took a deep breath as he shouldered the heaviest of the packs. “Guess this is it, we’re stepping beyond the safe zone.”

It was an illusionary line. Humans did so like making them.

“Guess we are.” Senku headed into the thick forest. “Hiroto, don’t run off.”

“I won’t.” Hiroto called out, chasing after Nala.

Ah, yeah, so he wasn’t reassured.

0000

The problem with being in a valley was that, at some point, they had to climb up and out. Senku cursed every muscle fibre in his legs as they burned. Oh—sure—sure—he’d gotten a bit fitter since he’d woken up and discovered he could actually run without dying.

But—

He wasn’t—

Okay fine—

He’d never say he liked physical activity, okay, he wasn’t built for this shite. He didn’t get the same endorphins hit that other people seemed to get when it came to over exerting themselves.

Taiju looked at him with concern.

“You okay?”

“Do I look okay?” Senku grumbled, holding his knees as he wheezed.

“Kind of hoped you’d get better at this.” Taiju muttered.

Senku flung his arms out in protest. “Dude, I just climbed a fucking mountain. Give me a break. I think I did pretty good—”

“Guys! Guys! You need to come and see this!” Yuzuriha’s voice sung through the trees. “Guys! It’s so beautiful! The cherry blossoms are in full bloom! Oh….I wish…I wish I had a camera!”

Senku arched an eyebrow up at Taiju. “She’s adorable.”

“I know right.” Taiju’s cheeks tinted.

“You’re so whipped.” Senku groaned, shoving past him, forcing his aching legs to keep moving.

“Hey, don’t tease. Someday, it’ll happen to you too.”

Senku scoffed in the back of this throat. Right, and he’d become an astronaut and get to the Moon.

“You’re not an emotional brick.” Taiju pursued him.

Senku sighed. What he sought, he doubted it was possible to find, because to him, love was like two stars colliding—a kilonova. The remote possibility of two stars in a universe so enormous, so huge, so vast, meeting and smashing into each other—

Sure—

It was possible—

But just because something was possible, didn’t mean that it happened all that often and was observable, and besides, who the fuck wanted to be caught up in the gravitational hell-hole of his disastrous attempt at a relationship.

Nah.

Best avoid that.

The cherry blossoms where indeed spectacular, though he had to disappoint Yuzuriha in letting her to know that unfortunately, they weren’t the same as those in their old-time, as they’d have died out pretty much immediately due to not being able to self-pollinate. It struck him as cruel, and he was left to wonder what else had been lost to time because humans hadn’t been there to tend and nurture.

That was humanities job, right?

To nurture the planet?

Sure, maybe Tsukasa had a point—er—if he, shoved aside the whole murdering innocent people thing. He could understand the desire to save and preserve—looking out across this vast ocean of pure green and sprawling rivers, and seeing nothing of the concrete and steel world he had once walked, it did tickle a little happy receiver in his brain.

But the sadness of what they’d lost was far more overwhelming as he flipped out his sextant to try and gauge their spot.

“Er…what is that?” Hiroto tugged on his pants.

He looked down at his sibling. “A sextant, a navigation device.”

“Whooooo…” Hiroto took it, copying how he’d held it. Senku rested his hands on Hiroto’s head as his little brother fiddled with the basically fucking useless device.

He had no idea where they were. The landscape had changed and altered. There were new rivers, new mountains, a whole new shoreline. What—what was he supposed to do with this. Wasn’t like he could just pull out a map or a GPS to guide them to Hakone.

He squinted at the horizon. Alright. He was going to make a guess, gauging simply the Camphor Tree being the old school. That was it. That was all he had to use as a reference.

“So…” he looked to Taiju. “Think we’re about at Kamakura?”

Taiju sucked in a sharp breath. “I donno. Maybe. It’s impossible to tell.”

“I wish we had some sort of landmark to go off…” Senku watched Hiroto and Yuzuriha take off after Nala, the three of them getting lost in the falling pink blossoms. Idly both he and Taiju followed, and he frowned. Weird. The vegetation was getting thinner in a very suspicious—

“Senku!” Hiroto slammed into him.

He managed to keep himself upright.

“Senku! Senku! Senku! It’s a Buddha!”

“What?” Senku spluttered. He hurried along as Hiroto dragged him, releasing him adruply the moment they came free of the tree line that just sharply stopped.

Oh—

Oh—wow—

It was Buddha.

The Great Buddha of Kamakura. Heh. A bit worn down, but, still standing after the centuries.

Yuzuriha stood entranced, her hands clasped tight to her chest. Senku glanced away, swallowing his own rising emotions at the sight of her tears.

“Yuzuriha…what’s wrong?” Taiju panicked, grabbing her.

Senku almost kicked him for being a moron. Almost.

Yuzuriha quickly shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing!” She denied, scrubbing at her face.

It was obviously something, and to deny it would be silly. Hiroto flung his arms around her legs. “Don’t cry, sis.”

She tried to smile for him, but it just ended up melting into more tears and she finally leant into Taiju’s arms, sobbing. “Everyone is gone! My parents. My family. All my friends…everyone…”

Taiju gave her back an awkward pat. “It’s okay. See, the Great Buddha survived. He’s still here. So…so that means…there is a chance…right Senku.”

Ah—yeah—nooooooo—

“It’s because of the bronze that statue is made from. Pretty durable stuff.” Senku cracked his neck.

“Senku!” Taiju protested. “Okay, well, look at this weird ring of no trees…its like…like the Great Buddha wanted us to find it!”

“Ah. Yeah. No. That’s because of the toxins seeping into the earth from the bronze.” Senku shrugged.

Yuzuriha giggled as Taiju blew a rasp in annoyance.

Senku yanked out one of his tools. “You know, totally wasteful just to leave this here. I can upgrade my crappy sextant!” He scrambled up the side of the old statue.

“Nope! No!” Taiju followed him. “You are not disrespecting The Great Buddha! Get down! Senku! Stop!”

Senku hammered, ignoring his friend entirely, and the laughter from Hiroto and Yuzuriha. He had time, he was sure, just to grab a few chunks. Taiju grabbed him by the belt, hauling him down. Nooo—his bronze! No!

“Not cool, Senku.” Taiju practically carried him away from the precious metal of awesomeness.

“It’s just a statue!” He complained.

“When the bullies smashed up your science projects, they probably thought similarly.” Taiju presented.

“Okay, fine, fair point.” Senku grumbled. Heh. Anyone who’d ever thought Taiju to be just a dumb jock really didn’t know him well at all.

00000

Senku watched as Hiroto sat beside Nala, stroking her back while she hungrily consumed the rabbit Hiroto had caught all on his own. He should have been proud of his little brother, proud that he’d managed to catch a rabbit—they were small and fast—

But—

But it churned up something inside his gut.

A worry that would not settle.

He had taught Hiroto how to kill. Was his little brother old enough to understand that a weapon wasn’t to be raised against someone in anger? Emotions were volatile. They were ruthless. They where a part of the human experience, a deeply engrained part of human nature and to deny their power and influence was to be foolish.

He sighed, turning his attention back to the stew he was making. Something simple, yet warm and comforting for Yuzuriha, who was looking rather uncomfortable sitting by the fire on her first night awakened.

Her gaze was on the stars through the canopy.

Senku spooned out a bowl for her, passing it over. She took it with a grateful smile.

“They’re so bright.”

He sat down beside her with his own bowl, sipping on the hot broth and the earthy taste tickled him all the way down to his toes. Yep. He had to admit, he’d actually gotten pretty good at cooking rabbit.

Guess cooking was a science after all.

Take that Dad.

So much for being banned from the kitchen!

“No light pollution.”

“Oh…” Yuzuriha gasped. “Oh, of course.”

“They’re twinkling happily because the clear atmosphere.”

“It’s very beautiful.” She sipped the stew broth and gave a little shiver. “Hhm, that’s good.”

“Surprised.”

She shook her head. “Your domestic abilities are something I never called into question.”

Senku snorted. “You’re a tease.”

“Well, it’s not like I can tease Taiju. He takes everything so literally.” Yuzuriha giggled, only for her joy to trail away and her shoulders bunched up tight. “I’m…I’m so glad you’re both here…” Yuzuriha whispered. Her hand reached out, clasping his knee tightly. Her head dropped heavily onto his shoulder, and he let himself rest his own against hers.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out.”

He would.

“I know.” Yuzuriha mumbled. “I’m just scared.”

“It is scary.” He looked back at Hiroto, who was rolling out his bedroll for Nala. “And I think we do need to acknowledge that. This is a whole new world we’re facing…a new frontier.”

“You’re excited.”

He grinned. “It’s brilliant!”

Yuzuriha giggled. She hugged herself closer. “Idiot.” She mumbled fondly.

Taiju finally blustered his way back into their camp, carrying a refilled water-skin over his shoulder. He carefully placed the bladder down by their packs.

“We’re good to go for tomorrow.” He yawned. “I think we should be able to take the river, that’ll make our trip a lot faster.”

“With what boat.” Senku looked around.

“I donno, whip us up something, genius.” Taiju spooned himself out a bowl of stew.

“Jerk.” Senku grumbled.

“Nerd.” Taiju quipped back.

Senku opened his mouth only for Hiroto to suddenly smack into his lap, almost sending his bowl of stew flying. “Whoa, careful, bub.”

“I’m hungry.”

“I see. Nala fed and happy and now you need feeding, or you’ll go feral on us.” Senku stood, propping Hiroto down beside Yuzuriha and heading back to the small fire and the pot. He spooned out the last bit of stew, passing it back to his little brother. Hiroto wiggled about happily.

“It’s almost as good as ramen!” Hiroto burst out.

Damn—

High praise.

Senku sighed. He really missed ramen.

00000

Despite how exhausted he was, Senku barely managed sleep, even with Yuzuriha clinging to his back and Hiroto curled up against his chest while Nala made a nest above his head. This should have been a dream sleeping position. Seriously. Practically heaven.

Nope.

The numbers consumed him, and scattered amongst their constant flicker was a frightening sensation of stone breaking. Every time he shifted his neck, the grinding was loud and crunching.

Would it be the end for all those who were crushed and shattered?

Could he save them?

Senku brushed a shaking hand over Hiroto’s forehead.

He had to keep his little brother safe.

If anything—

He nibbled on the dry, flaky skin of his sunburnt lips. So tired. Fuck the numbers. Fuck his brain. Gah—

Senku startled, hearing a twig break nearby. He sat up. Yuzuriha mumbled something. He reached out, patting her gently to settle her from his sharp movement. She curled up tighter, her face pinching in stress but she didn’t wake.

In the dim glow of the fire’s coals, Senku caught Taiju stalking the camp parameter, welding their one spear. He might have looked imposing to anyone—but Tsukasa.

“Listen, Taiju…” Senku murmured, rubbing at his stinging eyes. “If Tsukasa found us, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Taiju sighed, deflating a little. He looked over his shoulder to face him and his expression was grim. “I…I know…it’s just…it’s better that I stand watch. Just encase.” Taiju’s eyes lingered on Yuzuriha. Didn’t take a genius to know what he was worried about.

Senku nodded, tucking his knees to his chin. He got it, he understood the obsessive feeling of wanting—needing—to protect. It was a pretty primal drive; he was fundamentally aware of it in his own mind, pressing into his usually rational mentality. It was as though this whole situation had heightened elements of themselves that probably wouldn’t have really been seen back—well—back—then, in the ‘modern world’.

Which was just weird and difficult to wrap his head around still, because he did not feel like he was in the future, he felt like he’d been warped into the past—or at least—into a totally different dimension.

He still wasn’t throwing the different dimension notion out yet either. Not until he had fucking solid proof that green light hadn’t phase shifted them someplace else.

“Well, if you’re going to be up…” Senku tucked his section of the blanket tighter around Hiroto as he eased onto his feet. “Help me sort out this raft problem. We got a few hours before dawn, may as well make a boat.”

Taiju gave him a weary smile. “Sounds good.” They bumped fists.

000000

“Hiroto!” Senku gripped the raft as it swayed. “Stop rocking the boat.”

“Whoooo!” Hiroto bounced on the raft, squealing in excitement at the buoyance. Why did kids think some things were fun?

Their river journey had started at the crack of dawn, and sure, yes, taking the river meant he didn’t have to use his legs, this was great news. It would also get them to their destination faster—also great news. But trying to contain an eight-year-old and a lioness cub to a small raft was highly stressful, and he did not receive and ounce of sympathy from either Taiju or Yuzuriha.

Heh—

He wondered what Byakuya would have thought of him if the old-man saw him now, holding down a lioness cub and having a near-on panic attack every time Hiroto got too close to the edge of the raft. Had Byakuya felt this way every time he’d done something stupid or dangerous? Had he caused his old-man to go grey early—cause he was darn sure Hiroto was going to make his white hair fall out at this rate.

Despite being informed of possible crocodiles, Taiju still decided to get into the water to pull them along, because yeah—sure—the guy was some sort of insane stamina beast.

But they survived the river, all of them intact. Senku peered back down the ravine the river had cut through, shaking his head at the sharp cliffs. He was still struggling to wrap his head around just how much the landscape had changed. Serious shite had gone down while they’d been petrified. It almost felt like the planet had reset itself.

His skin crawled.

Something felt so—

Off—

Well, yes, of course—

He was standing in the future that felt like the past—

But it was more than that.

Why—

Why—

Why—

“Sis!” Hiroto’s loud, panicked cry startled Senku. “Your toe! It’s still stone!”

Senku turned, frowning. What? He looked down at Yuzuriha’s foot.

Oh—

How had he missed that?

Yuzuriha large toe was indeed still stone. She cringed, curling her shoulders up. “Ah. Yeah…I’ll admit, it’s been pretty painful.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” Senku tugged out the revival fluid from his kit.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Lame.” Senku grumbled, crouching down to gently pour a bit of the fluid over the toe.

Yuzuriha covered her face, giving a squeak. “It’s so cold!”

Taiju took that moment to burst back into the clearing. “Er. What are you guys doing?”

“Fixing Yuzuriha’s toe. It was still stoney.”

“Oh my gosh!” Taiju dashed forward. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? Do you need me to carry you!”

“No. No. No.” Yuzuriha shoved Taiju away. “I’m fine! See, it’s all better. Senku poured some of that magic liquid on it.”

“Not magic.” Senku called back over his shoulder.

“Totally magic!” Hiroto burst out. “Like a wizard’s potion.”

It was no use. They were all idiots. The lot of them. He smiled fondly.

Taiju looked relieved as he sat back on his hunches after inspecting Yuzuriha’s toe. “It’s pretty amazing stuff, you do have to admit that, Senku. I mean…you and Hiroto’s hearts are all better, right?”

Senku shook his head. “That wasn’t the Revival Fluid. That was something else. See…” he pointed to the cracks across their faces and down their chest and arms. “Look at these cracks left over from the petrification. It hasn’t been entirely undone yet, but it works from the inside out.” He folded his hands together, slowly unfurling them. “So…something about the petrification itself fixed our hearts.” He cracked his neck. “Though don’t get too excited about it, we still have no idea who, what and why…”

“That’s true.” Taiju sighed. “Are you okay to walk, Yuzuriha?”

“I’ll be fine.” She assured. “Much better now.”

Senku rolled his eyes. “Should have said something earlier.”

“I know, I know.” She flapped her arms around.

“Oie! Hiroto!” Senku shouted. “Stop running ahead.” He dropped his head back, groaning. “Why does he have so much energy.”

“Gee, I donno, maybe because his heart got fixed.” Taiju quipped. “Don’t see you running around like that.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Senku kicked his best friend. “My skinny arse like’s the slow lane.”

Taiju leant towards Yuzuriha. “He’s a lot more jacked than he thinks. Crazy what a year in the wild can do to a skinny arse.”

Yuzuriha giggled.

Senku covered his face, groaning. “I hate both of you.”

“Oh, we know.” They both grinned back at him.

000000

They’d made it.

Senku wanted to flop himself onto the ground and die.

But it wasn’t practical to do that because the ground was hard and his body wasn’t really designed to flop.

“Stop. Fucking. Shaking.” He wheezed down at his trembling legs.

Was he supposed to thank the weird green light and the petrification for healing his shite-arse heart and finally allowing him to feel this fucking awful after pushing himself to endure that much physical activity?

Cause why the hell did people enjoy this? This was not fun. His feet hurt. His limbs were over stimulated and pain was the only thing that assaulted him. The only positive to this whole ordeal was the nice reed hat Yuzuriha had fashioned for him that had finally kept the scorching sun off his poor, assaulted face.

He grasped his knees, took a deep, stabilizing breath and looked up.

It was a wonderful sight.

Hakone.

Well—

He was pretty sure it was Mt. Hakone.

The hot springs where still here, so, ah—it was Hakone.

A soft breeze cooled the sweat pooling around the nape of his neck and collar bone, where his pale skin was burnt and itchy. Senku scratched in irritation, earning himself a slap from Yuzuriha.

“Don’t.” She thrust a finger into his side.

“Yes, Mum.” He teased.

Her glare was tart. “So…why are we here?”

Senku spread his hands, gesturing to the surrounding area. “We’re going to make gunpowder.”

Yuzuriha gave him a very annoyed look, which he relished in. Yes, bask in his awesomeness.

“That’s super neat! But first, I suggest we all have a bath.” Taiju set their packs down.

Senku pouted. “We’re kind of on a time-crunch—”

The paternal look he received from Taiju explained why he and Yuzuriha were made for each other. “Hot springs having healing powers, get your skinny arse into one, or I will throw you in.”

Senku raised his hands. “Okay. Okay. This is me, not arguing with you.” He stepped past Yuzuriha, whispering into her ear. “And all the guys at school wondered why you liked him.”

She thrust her finger into his side again, hissing. “Shut up!”

Senku swept Hiroto up. “Bath time!”

He had to admit, there was something raw and basic about having a soak in a hot spring on top of a mountain as the sun set, leaving the four of them beneath the majestic curtain of stars. This was probably the cleanest he’d felt in over a year though, and the heat did wonder on his aching limbs after such a long, laborious journey. Scrubbing Hiroto’s hair returned it to his natural pearly state, as it had become rather grotty. After dealing with the little menace, he had his own hair to contend with.

Yuzuriha slid down beside him. “You’re so sunburnt.”

“I know.” He sighed at his pealing, raw skin. “Thanks for the hat.”

“What are you going to do about your eyes?”

“Science the shite out of things before it gets too bad.” He shrugged. If he was being honest, he was trying not to think about the possibility of losing his sight because he didn’t have protective eyewear in a primitive stone world.

“Ah yes, the answer to all things.” Yuzuriha splashed at him.

He beamed. “Of course.”

Taiju was holding Hiroto up. One of them had to be always holding the wiggling brat in the hot spring, as it was now just too dark to see if he might be drowning. Senku floated over to his best friend and hoisted Hiroto off him.

“Right, so, I figure you two might want some alone time.”

“What!” Yuzuriha spluttered indignantly.

Taiju just squeaked.

Senku dragged himself out of the water, giving them both a happy little salute. “I would say use protection, but since we have none, I guess you’ll just have to continue fucking each other with your eyes.”

What he received was an enormous wall of water to his face from both of them. Totally worth it for their burning red cheeks and the way they practically curled around each other, as if that denied something.

“I’ll be making dinner!” he sung out. “Have fun!”

Carrying Hiroto back to their little camp, Senku set him down beside a curled up Nala and began vigorously towelling him dry. Hiroto jiggled, giggling at the treatment. Heh, at least the kid was happy and no longer traumatized by what had taken place with Tsukasa. The elasticity of kids would never cease to amaze him.

Hiroto innocently peered over his shoulder back at the hot spring.

Senku tapped his little brother’s chin. “Leave them be, they got shite to sort out. Arms up.”

Hiroto thrust his arms up and Senku started dressing him, he twirled him around and braided his damp hair. Hiroto crinkled his nose up. “Senku…”

“Hm?” Senku worked on drying himself and shrugging back into his own leather clothes. He tucked a knee to his chest, curling forward as he tipped his head over and began to knit his own fine white hair in a series of intricate and complicated braids.

“You’re not going away…are you…” Hiroto whispered.

Senku lifted his head, dropping his hands away from an unfinished braid. He swallowed. Shite. How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that. Quick—think—quick—

He smiled and gathered Hiroto into a hug. “Of course not.”

Lie.

Why did that feel like a lie.   

000000

Senku woke before the others, as dawn cracked the horizon. Perhaps waking wasn’t the correct term though, as he couldn’t say he slept—

Numbers.

Even after all this time—

They still haunted him.

He shouldn’t have allowed fear to have this much of an invasiveness into his psyche. He was stronger than this. Wasn’t he? He had more of a grasp over his mind than this. Didn’t he?

Apparently not.

Apparently been thrown into a crazy situation like this even altered his brain chemistry.

He managed to untangle himself from their pile of bodies, leaving Hiroto tucked up between Taiju and Yuzuriha. Nala chose to trot after him and he ruffled her fur fondly, offering a piece of dried meat from his pouch as he clicked an order to sit. She did so.

“Look at us, getting the hang of this.”

She coiled around his legs.

Yeah. It was all fine now, while she was still small. She wasn’t going to be this small forever.

“You’re going to need to hunt for yourself, missy.” He sighed, burying his head in her fur. “Come on, let’s go collect sulfur.”

By now, Tsukasa had to have figured out their ruse, because he wasn’t a moron. How much time that gave them—hm—probably another day, maybe. He could work with that. By the time the others had roused themselves and Hiroto was munching on a stick of dried jerky, Senku was well into his preparations.

That was where they found him and Nala, and he must have looked like he was in his element, because Taiju and Yuzuriha wouldn’t stop smiling goofily at him. He pointed a dirtied finger at them.

“Listen, you two can be all lovely-and gooey at each other, right. Ew. Gross. I’ve got science shite.”

“Yeah, yeah. We know. You’re married to science.” Taiju scoffed.

No respect. None.

Yuzuriha leant into Taiju, whispering something into his ear that made him laugh. Senku glared at his two best friends.

“Owe!” He threw a rock at them.

Taiju held up his hands innocently. “We’re just speculating about who’ll be the mistress, science or the girl you end up with.”

“You’re both idiots.” Senku grumbled, hoping his pale cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. It was the sun—it was totally the sun—

Hiroto shuffled down beside him, huddling up close. “What are you doing?”

“Making gunpowder.”

“Dad said you should never use your powers of science for evil.”

Again, Taiju had to smother a laugh, burying it in Yuzuriha’s shoulder. Senku raised his brow, giving his little brother a fond smile. “Not to worry, this is totally to prevent evil. Dad would approve.”

“So, what did you need for the gunpowder?” Taiju looked around. “Did we have to come all the way here?”

“Sulfur.” Senku held up three fingers. “Charcoal and potassium nitrate.” He motioned to the hot springs around them. “Sulfur.” He pointed to their campfire. “Charcoal.” And he gave a leather sack next to him a solid pat. “Potassium nitrate.”

Taiju crinkled his face up. “Isn’t that from the miracle cave.”

“Yeah, I had to prepare this stuff beforehand. Super annoying, but, I am smart.”

“So, you had this plan in mind for a while?” Yuzuriha asked.

“There are many variables to many situations in a game of civilization. It’s always best to plan for as many possible outcomes as you can.” Senku began mixing the ingredients. “Oh…can’t forget the sugar.”

“So…it’s this easy to make gunpowder.” Taiju arched an eyebrow at the bag Senku was knotting up.

“Easy. I wouldn’t call this easy. I worked my arse off getting the potassium nitrate useable, and we hiked up a fucking mountain to get sulfur.” Senku slapped the leather bag down. “Right, now we just need to pound the shite out of it.”

“Ah, something I can do!” Taiju heaved up a nearby rock.

Yuzuriha waved her arms around frantically. “No. No. No. Won’t that cause an explosion.”

Senku scoffed. “Nah. Smashing stone against stone doesn’t make a spark. The stone has to have flint…” he cocked his head to the side. Hang on—

Wait a minute—

They were at a hot spring—

The likelihood of there being iron present in the pyrite boulder Taiju was swinging downward was—

Very—

Likely—

Oh shite—

Taiju slammed the boulder down.

Crackling sparks ignited.

Panic charged through them.

Senku grabbed Hiroto and dived straight for an outcropping of rocks. He had no idea where Taiju and Yuzuriha went as the explosion rocketed through the morning, but it was all he could do to keep Hiroto tight to his chest. A swell of thick black smoke lifted into the sky.

Well—

There went their position.

Slowly he lifted himself and Hiroto, who was still covering his ears.

“Whoa…” Hiroto burst out. “That was amazing!”

Taiju and Yuzuriha poked their heads out from another outcropping of rocks.

Nala bounced up from the mountains tip, looking down at them with a confused cock to her head. Senku sighed.

“Senku! You’re dumb.” Taiju shouted.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He cracked his stiff neck. “I have my moments.”

They all emerged from their hiding spots.

“Anyone hurt?” he asked, checking everyone over. It seemed they’d come away from that little hiccup without harm. A small miracle. Senku looked down at Hiroto.

“Okay. So, that’s why gunpowder is dangerous. Do you understand.”

Hiroto nodded.

“I don’t want you playing with it. It is not a toy.”

Hiroto nodded, clutching at Nala tightly.

“And we’re going to use it against Tsukasa…” Yuzuriha asked, hugging her hands to her chest tightly.

Senku cracked his irritated neck. If he had too, he would. He wasn’t Taiju. He didn’t have the moral compass Taiju did. He understood Tsukasa’s desire for a world of only the strong and the pure—the healthy—

Someone not him.

Not Hiroto.

Nature was not kind to the weak. He glanced down at Nala and her scarred leg. Left behind, abandoned by her pride.

Science had allowed humans to tame nature, to protect the vulnerable, to heal—

“We’ll negotiate.” He offered to Yuzuriha. “We just needed leverage, and now we have leverage.”

She didn’t look convinced, but in that moment, his eyes were caught by something beyond Yuzuriha. Senku froze. Taiju was standing, dumbfounded, holding one of their claypots filled with water. He hadn’t moved, because he was spellbound, by a rising pillar of smoke in the distance.

Smoke.

A smoke signal.

“Is it Tsukasa?” Taiju dashed back. Senku halted him from pouring out the water onto the smouldering gunpowder pile.

“No. It’s the wrong direction entirely.” Senku murmured in awe.

A flutter twirled up his spine. He started scooping up the gunpowder into a new pouch. “Quickly, go and get wood. We need to send a signal back!”

“Right! Yes! But…but won’t Tsukasa see?”

“Fuck Tsukasa.” Senku laughed. “Taiju, there are other people out there!” Happiness buzzed through him like an electrical current. This—this could change everything.

00000

Three smoke signals.

Senku breathed out. Wow. Yeah. Okay. Three. Responding to the three obvious thunderclap bangs he’d created with the gunpowder. So, whoever this person was, they understood the concept of numbers.

And they were just as curious as he was.

This was exciting.

He was on the edge of something.

Senku closed his eyes as he heard Yuzuriha’s sudden cry of panic and Hiroto’s yell for Nala to stop. There it was. He was here.

A cold, steely resolve deadened him as he turned to face Tsukasa. Everything about him was imposing and overwhelming. He was a lord—perhaps someday, he would be a warlord. That thought was terrifying and something in Senku’s stomach twisted up in fear.

What had he woken.

What had he unleashed upon this quiet, peaceful world.

There was rage in Tsukasa’s eyes, despite how calm his demeanour was. The far larger teen held Yuzuriha none to kindly.

“Here you are, already tainting my pure world with weapons of science.” Tsukasa tightened his hand around Yuzuriha’s neck, and she bit down on her bottom lip in pain. Senku’s hand curled against his side.

“I’m not the one using a defenceless woman as a hostage.” Senku arched an eyebrow. “I think we all know how your pure society is going go.”

“I cannot allow you, and your ways, to infest this innocent world.”

“Wow. So gracious.” Senku drawled. He raised his head. “Religion being a matter of the will, it cannot be forced upon anyone; in this matter it is better to employ words than blows.”

Tsukasa raised a single eyebrow. “You are the heretic here, Senku.”

“Yes, by your decree.” Senku spread his hands. “Are you truly willing to begin your entire civilization through an act of bloodshed and violence, is that how you want your story to start.”

Tsukasa pressed his blade closer to Yuzuriha’s neck. “Tell me the recipe for the Revival Fluid, and it will only be your blood that is shed this day.”

Senku tossed a hand about flippantly. Shite—his voice wasn’t as stable as he wanted it to be, especially with Hiroto watching him, listening to him, seeing this entire scenario play out.

“You think I care about what you do to her—”

Tsukasa’s blade was swift. It sliced. Senku moved forward in a panic. Oh—shite—

Yuzuriha’s long hair flayed out as Tsukasa sliced it from her neck, he flung it at Senku and ruthlessly held Yuzuriha out. She stared at him in frozen fear.

Oh—yeah—that had just fucking happened.

“We both know you should have buried this girl while she was petrified, so that I couldn’t find her. But you didn’t. Because you care about people. It is your fatal flaw, Senku. You hold your friends dear, while I think no human is precious.”

That wasn’t a fucking flaw—

He was looking at nutcase.

Yuzuriha started laughing suddenly.

Okay.

He was looking at two nutcases. She grabbed Tsukasa’s arm, lifting his blade to her throat and her gaze narrowed in on him. Sweat dripped of her brow. “It’s okay, Senku. Don’t give him what he wants. You know he’ll just kill all of us.”

But that wasn’t the case.

Tsukasa wasn’t an idiot. Insane. Perhaps. Full of bloodlust and thirsty for power; perhaps, but an idiot—no.

Taiju and Yuzuriha would walk away from this—because Tsukasa could trust on one thing, Taiju’s pacifism. All of them had their stakes firmly set in the ground, and they all knew where they stood. All three men—they all had firm convictions, like a triangle. That was why they were right now, standing here with Yuzuriha stuck between two of them and Taiju was off finding wood.

Senku sighed, closing his eyes.

“Fine…the Revival Fluid is a mixture of nitric acid and alcohol. The alcohol must be as close to pure as possible. The ratio is thirty percent nitric acid to seventy percent alcohol and the reaction won’t occur unless it’s perfect.”

That took effort to say. His mouth was dry. Senku tried to swallow. It didn’t help.

Tsukasa relaxed his blade around Yuzuriha, his gaze shifting from its hardened glint to something softer. Senku wanted to spit at him for the mockery.

“Thank you, Senku.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Senku scoffed.

“I will give you your life, if you promise me you will forgo science for the rest of your days.”

Who did this guy think he was? Making such a ridiculous offer.

God?

Senku looked slowly over to Hiroto, curled tightly around Nala.

Science had given him everything. It had given him his life. He should never have survived even being born. It had given him a father. A little brother. Taiju. Yuzuriha. Science was everything.

It was as engrained into him as a heartbeat.

He tipped back, giving a weary smile.

“To stop practicing science, would require stopping my own heart from beating. I cannot.”

Tsukasa sagged with disappointment, and that was a disgusting mockery. “We could have been friends, if not for the circumstances.”

“Perhaps.” Senku murmured, thinking back to that one night, outside the hospital, under the light of the streetlamp.

“I shall give you a merciful death.”

Death was death. Merciful or not.

However, he wasn’t going to take the chance that Tsukasa wouldn’t kill Hiroto. Because no leader in any stone civilian would leave the relative of their enemy alive, the probability of Hiroto growing up to avenge him was far too high.

Taiju was a pacifist. He had his own reasons for that solid stance. Tsukasa likely saw straight into that unbreakable heart Taiju had.

But Hiroto—

Hiroto was dangerous.

So—

“Hiroto. It will be okay.” Senku slowly looked to Hiroto as Tsukasa approached him. He acted as though he was simply consoling his terrified little brother.

This was for the best. He should not see this.

He spoke the next word with full confidence. “Run!”

Hiroto obeyed, taking off without a single sign of hesitation, despite Yuzuriha’s cry of panic. Senku relaxed into Tsukasa’s swing.

He let the numbers consume him.

This time he lost all consciousness and the numbers finally ceased.

00000

Hiroto ran.

He did he not stop, even when his chest hurt.  

Nala was following him. He could hear her heavy panting as they both battered, shoved and pushed their way through the forest’s undergrowth. He had no idea where he was going, or how long he was supposed to run.

But he had to get away from the bad not-friend.

Soon there was rain, thunder and lightning.

The ground was sloppy.

His little feet kept slipping.

His hands and knees got sliced up and bloodied.

Senku would be upset—

Senku—

Senku—

Senku—

It’d been brief, just from the corner of his eyes, but he’d watched the bad not-friend hurt his brother. He’d listened to sister Yuzuriha’s crying as he ran and scrambled down the mountain, away from the bad not-friend.

Hiroto tripped on a tree root, slopping down in the mud, he rolled around and landed with a terrible crunch. He sat there, in stunned silence as the rain battered down around him.

What was he supposed to do!

He wanted his brother.

Dad.

He wanted Dad.

Dad.

Dad.

Suddenly, Nala started snarling.

Oh no.

The bad not-friend! Had he found them!

Hiroto scrambled up, looking around frantically. Through the trees a girl emerged, not even scared of Nala at all. She studied him with a curious tilt of her head and crouched, reaching out a hand to gently brush mud away from his cheeks.

Bright blue eyes. Messy golden hair. She was a warm sunbeam, just like Miss. Lillian.

Hiroto burst into a flood of tears, throwing his arms around taunt, strong legs.

“Help me! He hurt my brother!”

He was hoisted up, without any difficulty, and tucked tightly into a shoulder. “You are safe now. I have you, little hoshi.”

She turned in the direction he had run from.

“Let us go find your sorcerer brother. I am very intrigued.”

Chapter Text

Yuzuriha had expected herself to feel terror and fear at the manhandling of the warrior that had caught her unaware on the mountain side, but as he hauled her back to where Senku and Hiroto were at the smoke signal, all she felt was anger.

Righteous burning anger, hot and boiling. It crackled beneath her skin.

He was using her—

Because this monster thought she was a weakness to Senku.

How dare he—

How dare he use their friendship to profiteer his spineless, nonsensical beliefs. Even when the pain of his grip assaulted her, and the blade sunk into her skin, leaking blood that pooled against her collar bone, she still felt anger.

It was only when Senku panicked, stepping forward, hand briefly outstretched towards her as the warrior tore through her hair that she realised how foolish her anger was. This was terribly real, and her life was being tossed back and forth as if she was a mere ball.

Her chest clenched tight.

She refused to be a bargaining tool, to ever be used against Senku and his tenderness. Her trembling hand clasped the warrior’s wrist, raising the blade to her throat again. Her life in the grand scheme of things—it was small—

Senku’s bright red eyes just seemed to melt in acceptance, as if her action had solidified something in him. As if he’d needed her to act, to give permission.

No. No—no—Senku—no—stop—stop—speaking! Stop!

She stumbled as Tsukasa tossed her easily to the side and she hit the ground, scraping her knees and hands on the sharp rocks. Yuzuriha struggled upright, searching for Hiroto. That’s what she had to do, she had to get to Hiroto!

“Run!” Senku’s voice cut through the air.

Yuzuriha flung out her arms, scrambling for the little blur as Hiroto took off down the mountain. She gave a harrowed shriek as Tsukasa’s blade swung, meeting Senku’s neck and her best friend smacked to the ground limp—lifeless—

Dead.

Tsukasa turned slowly towards her.

Now it crushed her, the terror of confronting his emotionless eyes. He was more stone than the statues he shattered.

The fear filled her body with all the locking frozen force of ice, fastening her in place, sealing her lungs.

He was a nightmare, enormous and looming, standing over Senku’s frail, fallen form, crumbled like paper upon the ground.

She would never forget what a horrifying sight it was, it would haunt her nightmares, her waking days. Every moment, every second. This man—no—this Oni—had murdered her best friend.

“Senku!” Taiju called out from behind her. His shout raw and pained, expressing all the emotion she could not in the moment.

Yuzuriha sucked in a deep breath as Taiju bellowed. “Senku! No! No!”

This was real.

Her hands trembled. The blood trickling down her neck from the stinging cut; that was real. It was warm and tacky. Her life had been in danger, and she’d not understood—

Until right now.

Seeing Senku—

Dead.

Taiju grabbed her, checking her over, his large, warm hand clasped her cheek and brushed at her tingling, numb lips before he jerked around, furious rage creasing his kind and warm features. It was more than she could handle, seeing her Taiju so unravelled. Her nails clawed at his arm.

“Reach him, please, just…just get Senku!” She heaved out.

Taiju kissed her forehead, nursing her against his chest. “Of course.”

But the question was how – that formidable warrior towered over them. Was he going to attack again? Yuzuriha bunched up against Taiju.

“Distract him, I’ll throw some of the gunpowder. See if we can’t start another explosion.” Yuzuriha murmured.

Taiju nodded. They steeled themselves. The moment Taiju hefted up the enormous rock, she bolted for their supplies, grappling as much as she could across her back and shoulders before lobbing the gunpowder in the direction of Taiju’s flung rock.

The explosion was deafening. She had to move, trusting that Taiju was behind her with Senku. She scrambled down the mountain, into the forest, heaving and gasping for air as rain began to batter down without mercy. Taiju’s heavy, pounding steps, slurping through the mud, caught up with her and she glanced back through the dimming light. He cradled Senku as carefully as he could against his jostling movements. They didn’t stop running, not for some time, but eventually the storm dragged them undercover.

She couldn’t think. She couldn’t focus. The thunder kept jostling her nerves, making her skin crawl and her heart race. Was Tsukasa behind them? Had they run far enough?

Yuzuriha slumped down beside Taiju as he cradled Senku.

“Where…where is Hiroto?” Taiju asked.

“I don’t know.” Yuzuriha clasped Senku’s limp hand. Move. Please. Move. Say something sharp and snarky. “Senku told him to run. I…I don’t understand why.” She gripped the lifeless hand.

“If Senku told him to run, he had a reason.” Taiju assured. Ever trusting.

Yuzuriha breathed out.

Trusting.

Because Senku—

Senku always—

Had a reason—

Her chest expanded as she sat back on her heels, staring at their friend. She brushed at his hair, made near transparent by the rain, and she searched his face. Her fingers slipped down slowly to his bruised neck and her lips parted in a soft pop.

“Oh gosh.” Yuzuriha grappled for Taiju’s arm, shaking him. “That thing…that thing he’s been doing with his neck. How long has he been doing it?”

“What…” Taiju’s brow furrowed, but slowly, recognition seemed to fill his features out as he breathed in deeply. “Turn him over! Quickly!”

They were careful in rolling Senku’s limp body. Taiju held him in trembling arms and Yuzuriha gently felt around the back of his neck. Her heart fluttered as she pulled away strands of damp hair, mixed with crackled stone. Even in the darkness of the storm, she knew what this was.

She peered in closer.

It was like her toe!

The back of his neck was still petrified.

“No way.” Taiju choked out. “How did you notice that.”

“He’s been cracking his neck!” Yuzuriha sorted through their gear, searching for the flask she knew contained the Revival Fluid. Senku had to have more of it. He had to! He had to have planned for this! “Haven’t you noticed?” She found the container and held it in her shaking hands.

“Yeah. I just thought he’d picked up another weird habit.”

“Senku never does something without a reason.” Yuzuriha shook her head. “Even his habits can be traced back to some sort of triggered reason.”

This had to work.

Please.

“It had to be causing him so much pain, but he never used the Revival Fluid on it. He’s just kept cracking his neck…”

“You don’t think…” Taiju murmured. “You don’t think he knew Tsukasa would do this?”

“Anything is possible with Senku.” She loosened the cap on the vial and poured the liquid over the back of Senku’s neck. She watched as the stone petrification fractured and loosened. Taiju rolled him back around and she folded herself over him, brushing at his cold, wet cheek.

“Please. Please…” Yuzuriha whispered. “Please wake up. Senku. Please.”

Taiju rested his head against her back and that’s how they stayed, in the soaking rain, amongst the cracking of the thunder.

She didn’t even notice the rain and the storm easing. Noting mattered. Nothing but Taiju’s steady breathing, his strong hands around her, and Senku’s lifeless body beneath her.

“Both of you, please get the fuck off me, you’re heavy.” A soft voice wheezed out.

Yuzuriha blinked.

Not a lifeless body. The chest against hers was inhaling.

Yuzuriha jerked up.

Staring straight at her were shining, brilliant, vibrant red eyes.

Yuzuriha smacked Senku’s cheek.

“Owe! What the fuck!” He clasped the stinging cheek.

“You idiot! You moron! You…you…you jerk!” She grabbed at his wet leather coat, heaving out a wretched sob.

“Senku!” Taiju smothered them both up in a crushing hug.

“Get off me!” Senku snapped. “Stop it, both of you. Touch quota! I call touch quota. No more touching.”

This was something they’d let him do, to call a touch quota for a day if he ever felt to smothered, and usually, she was fine to accept his eccentric tendencies but not today, not when she knew he was completely abusing it because he was being an arse.

She thrust a finger into his side. “You died!”

“Dude. I know. I was there.” Senku wheezed.

Yuzuriha collapsed against his chest. “You…you died!” She clung to him. He had a breath, and a heartbeat. “Senku. You died!”

Taiju folded up around them and she felt him shaking. Her strong, dependable Taiju was breaking. Senku’s head dropped against their shoulders.

She heard him whisper. “Thank you.”

00000

The storm had dissipated, leaving the world steaming and uncomfortably warm in the returning sun. The three of them sat beneath the trees in an exhausted state, emotionally and physically spent. Eventually, Senku moved to get water, and his actions were slow and pained.

Yuzuriha quickly busied herself, passing him the bamboo water flask before hunting for the medical kit—gosh—she hoped it was amongst the gear she’d snatched up.

Senku shrugged out of his thick, wet coat and Taiju strung it out, hanging it over a branch.

“Think Tsukasa came after us?” Taiju worried.

“The storm most likely hid you, even then, I suspect he followed Hiroto.” Senku rubbed wearily at his eyes.

“Hiroto!” Taiju gasped. “We need to find him. Right now!”

“Sit down, you big oaf.” Senku ordered.

Taiju thumped down. “You’re not worried?”

“I am.” Senku murmured. “But he’ll be okay.”

“How do you know that?” Yuzuriha asked.

“Someone was watching us on top of that hill. Can pretty much guarantee they found him.” Senku shrugged. “Kids are like magnets.”

Yuzuriha sighed into her hands. “Senku, did anyone ever tell you that you are far too trusting.”

“I trust in humanity. We are a marvellous species.” He happily wiggled his legs about. Taiju sent her an amused eyebrow raise.

“Yes, marvellous.” Yuzuriha fussed as she busied herself strapping Senku’s shoulders and neck. He winced at her softest touch, giving a hiss of pain.

“You’re very bruised.” She worried. Maybe it was just more obvious due to his skin being pale.

“Yeah, well, that’ll happen when you take the flat end of a sword to your neck.”

“Did you know he’d go for your neck?” Taiju narrowed his glare at Senku.

“I’d made sure to be very suggestive about it.” Senku gave a grin. “Guess you guys noticed too, heh.”

Yuzuriha wanted to hit him, but she reframed, considering his current state. “You are such an arse. What if we hadn’t picked up on it.”

“You always do.” He tried to shrug, only to flinch. “I trust no one more than you both.”

She hated how heavy that burden felt. Taiju probably wouldn’t realise it yet, but undoubtably Senku did. They were the beginnings of a new era, a new start of humanity, and Senku—

Senku was going to be someone, and they’d be there, with him—

His shadows.

His gaze softened, as if he knew her thoughts, because Senku always seemed to know. She gently rested her forehead against his arm.

“What are we supposed to do?” Yuzuriha asked, twisting her hand up in his. He let her. She was being selfish, wanting to hold him. Something awful was trickling down her spine, telling her she needed to cherish this moment.

“We’re going to divide and conquer.”

There it was—

Yuzuriha swallowed. Her hand tightened and his responded.

“You guys are going to find Tsukasa, and I’m going to find whoever else is out there, and I’ll build a Kingdom of Science to rival his…whatever sucky idea he comes up.” Senku drawled.

Taiju frowned. “He killed you.”

“I am aware.”

“Senku.” Taiju raised both his hands and brought them down in a cutting motion. “He killed you.”

“Stating it again doesn’t do anything, Taiju. I know.” Senku intoned.

“Oh, no, no. I know. I’m just making sure you haven’t got brain damage.” Taiju mocked. “Because I swear I heard you say you wanted me to walk back up to the guy who murdered my best friend and say, hi, hello, can I rejoin your sucky kingdom of suck.”

Yuzuriha turned away, forcing herself not to giggle.

“That is what I said.”

“Not happening.” Taiju crossed his arms stoutly.

Ah—there it was—Taiju’ legendary stubborn streak. It didn’t emerge often, but when it did, it was a monster to battle.

Senku nodded slowly. “Taiju, you’re the only one capable of this. Tsukasa trusts in your pacifism. Indeed, if you can get him to trust it enough, he may come to value your opinion as a peacekeeper. He’s going to need one.”

“I don’t understand.” Taiju’s brow crinkled.

“Tsukasa isn’t an idiot. Delusional, a future warlord, a terrifying force of nature, yes…but he’s smart, most warlords are, and he will also feel indebted to you both, because he murdered me.” Senku hoisted himself up, reaching for his still damp coat and shrugging into it.

Yuzuriha’s lips parted in a small pop.

“You’re banking on the murder impacting him psychologically.” Her gaze followed him as he moved about slowly, separating their supplies out.

“I am.” Senku nodded. “He won’t think it will, but it will. He’ll deny it to his very core. Maybe he’ll kill again. And keep killing. Once you’ve done it, what’s more one human, right?”

Taiju’s hands tightened against his knees.

“But every time he looks at either one of you, he’ll be reminded of me and my ugly mutt.” Senku tipped playfully to the side. “And that tiny, itty bitt little slither of guilt, it will worm it’s way into his gut.”

Senku cracked a grin. Yuzuriha shook her head at his manic nature.

“I’ll do it.” Taiju stood, his chin lifting. “I will protect people. I must!”

Yuzuriha’s chest tightened. That was her Taiju. So honest—so steadfast—always willing to do the just and true thing.

“If I can save even one person…” Taiju held out his fists. “If I can talk Tsukasa out of killing, then I will endure it…but…” he looked over at her. “Senku…I…”

Yuzuriha quickly surged to her feet. No. She would not allow either of her boys to think she couldn’t do this. She slapped her hands on her hips. “I’ll be fine. I can cope.”

Well—maybe—she had no idea how she was going to deal with her period, but, that was something to worry about later, right.

Senku arched an eyebrow at her.

“It’s not so much about you emotionally coping.” Senku shook his head. “You’ve got that covered. No, I’m worried you’ll get raped.” Senku said it plainly, and bluntly, and she supposed she was grateful that he didn’t dance around it.

Taiju’s shoulders sagged. Her hand wrapped around his, rubbing on the roughened skin that had formed over the time she’d been—asleep—petrified—

Senku worked on packing up his gear. “In this society Tsukasa wants to build, I can guarantee things are going to revolve around two things: sex and violence. Unless you can establish a strong moral code from the start.” Senku looked to Taiju. “That’ll be your job.”

Taiju nodded solemnly.

“Under no circumstances go anywhere alone.” Senku motioned between them. “Make it a known fact that the two of you are tied at the hip. If you bath, bath together, if you sleep, sleep together. Never. Be. Alone. Not even for a second.”

His eyes burrowed into them both. He shrugged his kit around his hips and gave himself a little pat down as if checking that all his limbs were still intact. Then he smiled at her. Yuzuriha’s fought back tears.

She didn’t want this—

She wanted to tell him—

So—

So much—

“Yuzuriha your job is this…” he bent forward, whispering into her ear. “Find the broken statues, put them back together.”

She blinked. Wait. What?

He clapped her shoulders, making her squeak. “You can do it!”

Yuzuriha flopped back against Taiju. “You’re cruel, Senku.”

“Ah. Yeah.” Senku flashed a peace sign at them. “It’s why you love me.”

She couldn’t stop herself; she hugged him—no—clung onto him. His arms, that had once been thin and weak, wrapped around her with a solidness she did not recognise.

“You’re lucky, you know,” he whispered. “Only woman I’ve ever hugged.”

Yuzuriha pulled away, wiping at her tears. “You’ll find your star, Senku.” Her hands twisted up in his as she snatched up Taiju’s hand. “Who knows, maybe you really just had to wait three thousand seven hundred years for the universe to align itself.”

Senku scoffed at her fondly. “Right. Yes. How scientific of you.”

She giggled. “Well, one of us has to believe in fate.” She tipped playfully to the side.

“Ew. Stop. You’re infecting me with your idiocy.”

“Oh!” Yuzuriha burst out. “On that note—”

“What, idiocy?” Taiju looked so confused, which made him very adorable.

Yuzuriha shuffled around in one of their bags. “Look at this!” She pulled out one of the leather sleeping rolls, revealing the markings she’d noticed. “Doesn’t it look like a spaceship in the stars?”

Senku squinted at it. “Ah…okay…”

She thrust it at him. “Stay safe.”

Stay alive.

Don’t die.

Again.

He held it tightly, and she knew she’d made the right decision. Senku loathed admitting his sentimentality, but, when it was given to him—when someone gave him permission—he held onto it, like one of his very few hand-painted Gundam figurines.

Oh—

She supposed he didn’t have those anymore. That was a little depressing.

“I won’t say goodbye,” he bumped fists with Taiju. “Because we’ll see each other again.”

“Yeah!” Taiju assured with gusto.

With that, Senku turned away, and headed into the unknown. He did not turn back.

Taiju’s hand tightened around hers. He took a steadying, deep breath.

“Right.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Let’s do this.”

Yuzuriha nodded. “Yep.”

She’d be fine.

She was with Taiju.

Chapter Text

Tsukasa ignored the coating of sweat dripping off him from the afternoon sun steaming the forest after the flash spring storm. It warned of a stifling uncomfortable summer ahead. He would need to begin preparations.

It meant he could not linger long here, searching for the boy.

Taiju and Yuzuriha could no doubt fend for themselves, and he was quite sure they would eventually find their way back to him. Taiju was not foolish enough to risk the life of his most precious companion to the wilds of a stone world. The pacifist would seek strength in numbers, even if it meant reconciliation.

That was the sort of man Taiju was.

It was Yuzuriha he was wary of.

When she had held his blade to her throat, she had been serious with her determination. She had been willing to sacrifice her life. She was an enigma.

After the explosion had settled, he’d headed down the mountain, following the frantic and explosive trail of Senku’s little brother. A coil of dark envy twisted itself around his throat. Trust. Taiju and Yuzuriha had trusted Senku.

He had betrayed them by dying.

How pitiful.

The little boy had trusted Senku enough to run. Why?

He supposed it mattered not. What mattered was that the boy was not old enough to be in the wilds of the stone world alone.

The boy would need protecting, he would need guiding in the correct path. The boy was young enough still that Senku would be forgotten, science would be forgotten. It would be difficult for a few years, perhaps, but Tsukasa could make it work.

The storm had washed away the trail, leaving him wandering a curious circle. It was on his third loop that he noticed her.

Oh—

She had to have been following him for far longer than he’d sensed her, for she was skilled in blending into the forest. He halted in a flat clearing, his fingers lightly taping the hilt of his blade. Had she let him notice her?

No. It was a mistake on her part.

His brow furrowed.

He supposed he should be grateful to fate.

“You, in the treetop, six meters behind me, I know you’re there.” He tipped his head around, arching an eyebrow at a branch.

It rustled.

From his left a rock was thrown. He stepped aside, watching as it struck a tree. Senku’s sling? No. That had been pinched at him, like someone had ditched a baseball. She was taunting him.

Another rock.

This time it whizzed past his ear from behind.

How had she moved so fast?

Or where there more of them?

No, this was a tactic to throw him off.

“That won’t work. I know it is just you.” He stood still, patient, waiting. He was not the prey here.

Through the undergrowth, a woman emerged—it was difficult to gauge her age, but she couldn’t have been any older than he. He frowned. Her hair and eyes were foreign and distinct—Norwegian? Swedish? He’d fought some men from that corner of the world before. But what was she doing here—

Wait—

No petrification lines.

Did that mean—

Was she not one of the Awakened? Maybe from an earlier generation of Awakened—surely that could have taken place. Did that mean there were more of her kind? By the looks of her attire, the strings of shells in her hair, and intricate tattoos inked into her thighs, she came from some form of culture. Could he conquer them!? That idea was appetising. He licked his lips.  

“You are trespassing.” She raised her chin.

He understood her, she was speaking Japanese, though it sounded different. He had to focus to catch her words.

The way she looked at him, she was considering him to be something akin to swine. It was amusing. Whatever had he done to earn her ire—

He stiffened.

A little head of white hair poked out from behind her neck. Ah. That explained what had caused her to falter in her tailing of him.

Senku’s little brother.

“I see.” He glanced around the forest. “These are your lands.”

“They are.”

“Do you have a chief?”

“We do.”

“May I meet him.”

“No.” She twirled her blades. They were surprisingly well crafted; he gave her that. She eased back a foot into a fighting stance, appearing perfectly at ease with the weight of the boy strapped across her back. “You have shown yourself a pitiful little man of ill tidings.”

Tsukasa’s brow lifted in amusement. She knew how to tease before a fight, how delightful.

“I have done you no wrong.”

She scoffed. “You killed the sorcerer who had tamed the mountain’s anger.”

Sorcerer?

Mountain—anger—

Oh—

The gunpowder.

Senku.

He almost burst out laughing at how amusing that was.

Calling Senku a sorcerer. He deserved that insult.

He raised his blade, motioning to the boy across her back. “Give me the boy and you may go freely.”

Wrong thing to say, apparently. He supposed that perhaps she had fought warriors such as he before, or that she was simply not intimated by him in the slightest. That was a delightful notion, to find someone who would fight him without restraint and fear.

She was in front of him in a blur of blue and blond, reminding him oddly of the rage of the sea and the flare of the sun on sand. Her knee thrust up. He blocked, slapping the blow down, only to find the hard stone sole of her shoe collecting his jaw as she coiled in the air like a viper.

He dropped, barely in time to miss the crushing compound movement of her thighs aiming straight for his neck. She summersaulted and landed with a roll, returning to a ready pose.

A little happy grin on her lips mirrored his own.

Wait.

No—

Tsukasa tightened a hand around his sword. She had summersaulted and rolled.

Where—

Where was he?

Where had she put the boy?

She charged.

He slammed her back. She took the hit, going down on one knee, spitting out bile before sprinting. She was fast. Of course she was. She had the athletic build for speed and strength. He had to think—he’d never fought a woman before—

Their gravity was centred entirely around their hips, and her main strength was obviously her powerful legs. One hit—one strike from her knee or foot again would severely concuss him. So, yes, she was going to attempt to throw him off balance and straddle him, and drive her blade straight through him.

He swung his blade, expecting to meet the soft flesh of her side, only to find air. Pain erupted against his arm, and he reacted, smacking downward. He hit her side, split skin. Blood gushed onto the ground. She dashed for safety in distance, and he stared at her through his dreads, heaving air.

They were both wounded. They’d both drawn blood.

There was pure delight on her face. She cocked her blade at him in mockery.

“You bitch,” he hissed.

He moved to crush her, to be done with this, only to find his arm pulsed, and refused to move. No—no—she—

She was from a primitive tribe, wasn’t she?

Tsukasa hissed, tasting a coppery tinge to his saliva. “Poison.”

She’d poisoned him.

The woman barred her teeth, dropping lower. She was not afraid to fight dirty, and ruthlessly. A happy thrill tingled up his spine. She had seen battle—perhaps far more so than he—she had fought for her life.

She was dangerous.

Gorgeously dangerous.

She had to have known that he would best her, and she had been prepared.

He spat out the salvia growing in his mouth as he fought the urge to collapse into blankness.

“It will not kill you, if that is what you fear.” She mocked.

“I do not fear death.”

“You do. I see it in your eyes.”

He grasped his knees. Dying, not seeing his sister—her sweet eyes opening. He just—he just wanted that, but that promise, it had been nothing but the lies of foul adults.

Tsukasa snarled. “You dirtied this fight with—”

“Sorcery.” She twirled her blade.

His stomach twisted at the jab.

“Seemed fitting for your crime.” She stashed her blade in its protective sheath and held out a hand.

Senku’s little brother approached, and she so easily lifted him, as though it were an action she had performed countless times.

“I will return for the boy.” He hissed.

“If you step into our territory again.” She warned. “You will be shot.”

“And you have the authority to degree this.”

“You are now Outlaw.” Her lips curled. “I say this.”

Tsukasa glanced over her again. The tattoo on her leg was archaic and simplistic, but it was a sun—or perhaps a star—and her intricate headpiece was fashioned from dozens of fine seashells. It was highly possible he was looking at someone high ranking in a small pocket of humanity. He might have already botched first contact.

Then he supposed he had no choice.

He would return when he had more people, and he would kill all their men, take all their women and children and be the only ruler—for only he was worthy of protecting this new, precious world.

“You murdered his guardian.” She practically spat at him. “So, I claim him. He is mine. If you attempt to take him, I will kill you. If you succeed in taking him, I will return with my brothers, and we shall take him back and gut you for stealing my claim.”

Fascinating.

How utterly—truly—fascinating.

“I see you take the welfare of children seriously.” Tsukasa mused.

“I see you do not.”

Something within snapped.

A haze of rage filled him, his sword swung, and a tree shattered. He watched in delight was the woman and the boy fell beneath its mighty weight. Slowly, he dragged himself away, step by step, forcing himself to walk despite the throbbing in his skull.

Sorcery.

Science.

Never.

“Strength above all.” He hissed.

0000

Senku’s memory of the time after his parents had died was hazy. Most people presumed he had a prefect recall of his entire life or something ridiculous like that, but it usually took something to trigger a recollection. A smell, a flicker of light against a wall, a car-tire screeching. He’d been barely four. His parents had loved him; he’d understood that much.

And then they’d been gone.

Blinked out of existence.

Just.

Gone.

And the world was empty.

Echoing.

A vastness that had seemed impossible to fill until Byakuya's enormous presence had hurdled right into his life like a comet intersecting a solar system in a once-in-a-lifetime fulfillment.

Senku breathed out an uneasy, unsteady breath as he took in the forest around him. That echoing emptiness was back, and it was all consuming. From the moment he’d walked away from Yuzuriha and Taiju, it had smothered him with the oppression of a noose.

Why had he left them? This was dumb.

He was dumb.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. No. He could do this.

Find Hiroto.

Focus on that.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

“Stop brain.” He ordered. “Stop.”

Did that work? Er. Okay. Yeah. Kind of. Hah!

It took him a good hour to climb down into a valley, scuffing up his hands. Fingernails? Who needed those. They were totally not important at all. He tripped, landing with a thud and he didn’t move.

“Fuck.” He whispered; eyes firmly shut as his muscles tightened from the shock. “Fuck that hurt. Fuck.”

Carefully he peeled himself off the rocky ground, touching his bruised hip. Nothing about his skinny arse was made for this rough, outdoor hard work shite, but hell was he going to let it defeat him.

The ground suddenly vibrated beneath him as a loud, thundering crash echoed through the forest. Senku snapped up, sore neck, sore hip—sore everything—completely forgotten.

“Hiroto!”

Why—

Why did he immediately think that was his little brother?

Panic made him run in the direction of the noise and the rush of disturbed birds. His pain and weariness completely forgotten in the surge of adrenalin, and he almost—he almost felt that burst that Taiju spoke of, that rush of thrill at propelling himself with his own momentum.

He skipped and stumbled into a small glade, almost smacking straight into the enormous fallen tree that had to have been the cause of the noise.

“Nala!” Senku burst out.

Relief flooded him at seeing the lioness cub. If she was here, then so was Hiroto.

The lioness was clawing frantically at the tree.

“Hiroto?” Senku shouted. He scrambled over several rocks, landing on the other side of the tree and there he was, his little brother. Why did it feel like it’d been months since he’d seen him? That was nonsensical.

“Oh fuck.” Senku jerked to a halt. Wait. Shite. Hold up. A woman—girl—human—stop—stop—a person—was pinned under the fucking tree. Nope. No. Nope. This was not happening. Why. Why. Why.

Hiroto was sobbing hysterically as he tried to dig her out with his bare little hands. Blood was caked over him. His own blood, from a head wound. Senku accessed the tree. It was enormous. There would be no way he’d lift it with his own strength. That’d be inconceivable. Even Taiju wouldn’t manage such a feat.

“Senku!” Hiroto’s thin little arms hugged his legs. Senku slowly eased down, pulling his sobbing little brother close.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I…I…I thought you…I thought you died!” Hiroto clutched at his coat. “The scary man…he…he…”

“I know. I know.” Senku urged. He wished he could promise never again, but he couldn’t. Life was full of uncertainties. As good as he was at predicting—he wasn’t that good.

“Please, you…you have to help her.” Hiroto pulled away.

Senku looked over at the girl—person—pinned beneath the tree.

Blue—

Whoa—

She had startling blue eyes.

Oceanic and prismed.

Hang on. No. Why was he fixating? Back up.

“You’re alive…” Her voice was strained.

Senku blinked. Er. That should have been his line, honestly.

“You’re…you’re the sorcerer gentleman.”

“Keep your talking to a minimum, you cannot waste your energy.” Senku dropped onto all fours, looking beneath the tree. He needed light. He didn’t have light. This fucking sucked. What he wouldn’t do for a flashlight. He stuck his arm into the gap she was trapped in and froze.

Oh shite. Oh shite. Oh shite. She was fucking bleeding.

He stared straight at her.

She knew he knew.

“It’s not bad,” she croaked out. “I’ll live.”

Should he trust her judgement? “I need to know truthfully, if you think you’re dying, I could risk blasting the tree with my remaining gunpowder, but, if you can hang in there, I’m ten billion percent sure I can get you out. It will just take time.”

She was still staring straight at him, as if she was mesmerised or something. Senku slapped a foot down, increasing his tone. “Listen, if I move the tree and your legs have been crushed or pinned for a long time, blood will rush back into them, and you’ll probably die from the shock. So, I need to know how you’re pinned. You are the only one who can tell me. Make this call.”

“It is not the weight of the tree. I am not being crushed.” She assured. “I am simply jammed…” her brow furrowed, and she tried to move again, only to wince in pain and panic began to set in.

Right. There it was. He’d been waiting for it. The reality to hit. The reality of a giant fucking tree pinning her down.

Senku quickly placed a hand on her forehead, startling her. “Focus on your breathing. Calm it.”

Her ragged, heaving breathing struggled to even out.

“Look at me.” He held up a single finger. Her blue eyes, wide and blown out, jerked in his direction. He crouched lower. “One.” Senku breathed in and out. She spluttered out a breath. It was good enough. “Two.” He breathed again. This time, she was far more solid. “Three.” Finally, an even intake and exhale.

Senku smiled.

“There you go.” He hoisted himself up and rolled the selves of his coat, glancing around. Okay—think—how to hoist up a tree. What did he have in his supplies? What was around him?

“This is my fault.” Hiroto slumped down beside the girl.

“Oh, hoshi, no, it isn’t.” The girl insisted. “Don’t cry. I’ll be fine.”

“She’s right.” Senku started hacking at a bamboo with his knife. “Not your fault, bub. Don’t take the blame when you don’t need too. You know that. Now, get my med-kit from my pack and stop your head from bleeding. Clean your hands with the ethanol.”

“But it hurts.”

“I don’t care. Bite me. Actually, no. Nala. Fuck off!”  

He assessed mentally that it was going to take him by nightfall to get a pulley system working. He’d made several for the treehouse, but he’d had more supplies for those, and he hadn’t been rushed—and—those hadn’t been for hoisting up a giant mega-ton tree. Hiroto attempted to help, for as long as he could, but he did eventually fall asleep with Nala watching. It’d been a long day for the brat, and that head wound wasn’t something to scoff over either. He’d have to keep an eye on it.

Senku soaped up his hands as he finished his gloriously mighty contraption.

“Alright!” He headed to the girl, bending over her. “You still alive?”

“I believe so.” She opened a single eye.

“Good. Would have been totally lame if you’d died on me.” He headed for an outcropping of rocks, snatching up the ropes.

“What sorcery are you using?” she asked.

“Not sorcery.” He chided. “Science. We stand on the backs of those who came before us.” Senku wrapped his wrists and hands around the ropes. “As it is, thanks to Archimedes, someone as weak as I, can lift a tree as though I were Hercules.”

He gave a laugh and leaped, heaving down with his full weight. The tree lifted. His pulley strained.

“Move! Move!” He ordered.

She dragged herself out with some difficulty, her limbs shaking. As soon as she was free, he lowered the tree, letting it down with a thud and he skipped a step at the sudden loosening of the pulley. Ouch. His hands hurt. It mattered not. In the dim twilight, blood was visible, staining her blue clothes, smearing her skin. Shite. So, she had been wounded. How much blood had she lost? He grabbed his soap and began cleaning his hands as he approached her. Carefully, keeping his distance as he crouched down in her line of sight.

Her gaze was wary, almost animalistic, but very different from the malice of Tsukasa.

“Hi,” he tried to warmly smile—he really, honestly did. “I’m Senku.”

“Kohaku.” She tipped her head in weary greeting.

“Thanks for looking after my little brother.” It felt like it needed to be said.

Both their gazes fell on Hiroto, curled up and sleeping on the bed roll. “It’s been a big day for him, not surprised he missed the finale.” Senku stood. “I’ll start a fire, get us warm, and then I’ll treat your wounds.”

“I’m fine—”

“I’ll be the fucking judge of that.” He snapped back. “Like hell am I ever trusting you with your own damn judgement ever again. Simply jammed my skinny wuss arse.”

She had the audacity to actually snort a laugh.

00000

Working by firelight was not overly practical for suturing a wound, but it was as good as they’d get. Apparently, she’d received it from her fight with Tsukasa, so, he supposed he could forgive her for implying that she wasn’t dying from being pinned by the tree. Still, she was lucky the leather of her clothes had acted as a sealant and held back most of the blood flow. Thanks to that, he was left with a wound that could be cleansed and sutured neatly, much to Kohaku’s fascination.

With his mortar and pestle he made a quick beeswax paste with the remainder of his herbal kit. He needed to resupply—desperately.

“You truly are a sorcerer…” Kohaku murmured in awe.

He looked up at her. She was sitting with her back up against the fallen tree that had pinned her, and he was having to awkwardly ignore how comfortable she was being almost naked around him.

“No. Scientist.” He insisted.

Her lips pursed in annoyance.

Gah. This was going to be a thing. Please don’t be a thing.

Picking up his mortar he folded himself down beside her again. She raised her arm, slipping it around his shoulder to give him space to work and apply the paste.

“How do you know these things?”

Cause he was a jackarse genius. No. Not a great explanation. Er. Okay.

“My father…well…my father was a doctor, hm, technically he was a cardiologist, someone who specialised in fixing hearts.” Senku gave her chest a tap. “But to be as good as he was, and he was one of the best in the world, you needed to know a lot of shite about a lot of other shite.”

He tipped back, looking at the night sky. “It was his big dream to create a fully functioning artificial heart.” His hand clenched against his own chest, and he chuckled wearily. “Stupid,” he muttered.

“Anyway…” Senku shifted his attention back to her and the wound along her side. “You pick up a few things when your old man is a professor of medicine.”

He was confident that she had no idea what he was talking about, but just talking made this entire situation easier to cope with, and she didn’t seem to mind it either. If anything, she seemed to focus on his words, absorbing them and trying to ingest them. She wanted to learn.

That—

That was a great sign.

Senku resisted the urge to pull his hand away from her side. He could feel the strength in her muscles as he worked to gently apply the cool paste. Her story was on display across her skin; scars and rivets told tales of survival and brutal hard work. These were harsh wounds. She’d fought battles—not just battles against humans, but against infection. Someone with basic knowledge of wound care had tended to her and that fascinated him. Indeed, considering the intricate tattoo on her thigh—whatever culture she hailed from obviously understood human skin to some degree.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing his fascination.

“Who did this?” he paused and ran the pad of his thumb over the largest of the scars down her side and coiling beneath her breasts. It was vicious and it made his stomach knot up.

“Oh, that was Magma. He wounded me in our last battle at the Tournament, but I bested him.” There was pride in her tone, and her chin lifted a little.

Putting aside the mention of some medieval tournament for now, that hadn’t been what he meant. Shite—he had to clarify. He sucked at this. Gah. People skills. He was going to need to use actual people skills. Dude. That was so lame.

“No, I mean…who was the one who tended to the wound. They saved your life.”

Her brow furrowed. “Chrome. Our sorcerer. He…he has always done so with me. Not many others in the village trust him though.”

“But you do.”

Interesting. She was very curious then. Explained why she hadn’t hesitated in helping Hiroto, or sending up the smoke signals.

“I find the world beyond the village fascinating.” She tipped her head to the night sky, a soft smile easing the harshness of her features. “Chrome understands. We also have a similar goal…and I think my father hates him as much he hates me.”

Oh no.

Family politics.

Ew.

He was staying away from that with a ten foot pole.

His leg was suddenly butted and he looked over at Nala. She kept nudging him and nibbling at his thigh.

“Sorry girl,” Senku held out his gunky hands to Nala. “Can’t cuddle right now.”

Nala sniffed his hands and her fur stiffened in disgust.

Kohaku twitched as though itching to bury her own hands in the fur of the cub. He sent her a smirk. “You can try.”

“She’s a lioness.”

“So are you and you haven’t mauled me.” He quipped as he eased himself up, heading for the nearby water pot to wash his hands.

“Is that how you see me? Some wild, untamed animal.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if her tone was offended or if she was being contemplative. Senku glanced back at her and stiffened. She hadn’t replaced her dress. Why would she? It was obvious she didn’t have the same concept of nakedness as someone from—the—past—

He was going to say modern world, but that wasn’t right.

This was really fucking with his head.

Also.

She was very naked and right now, Byakuya was somewhere laughing his arse off at him for this entire scenario. Thanks Dad.

“The fact that you’re insulted by the notion means you’re aware of a negative implication behind it.” He offered. “But no, I’m actually meaning that you’re fierce and tremendously strong like a lioness, and judging by your scars, you protect your pride.” He scrubbed at his hands. “Those are commendable qualities.”

“You have a snake’s tongue.”

He smirked, cocking his head at her. “That’s more like it.” Dryings his hands on his coat he checked on Hiroto. Brat was completely out of it. Poor kid’s little body had lasted just long enough until exhaustion crashed. Senku tucked the fur blanket tighter around him and waved to Nala. She curled herself around Hiroto and Senku offered her a piece of jerky.

“So,” he crouched in front of the fire. “Rabbit stew?”

“A meal?” She looked baffled.

“Of course.” He set a small clay pot on a rock by the coals. “I’m rather proud of my rabbit stew.”

00000

She was not supposed to accept food from an Outsider, that was a law—and Kinro would be fuming at her right now for breaking yet another one—but she was hungry, and the smell was truly mouthwatering. From the first bite she swallowed, Kohaku felt a hearty warmth envelope her from the inside. Her shoulders eased a little and the pain faded, just a touch.

She must have let out the softest of sighs, as she heard a chuckle from across the fire.

“That good, heh.”

Heat tinted her cheeks. “I suppose.” She sipped the broth. Smooth and silky, it coated her lips.

Again, he laughed. His laughter made her toes curl tight. It was so—different—so rich and vibrant, like the stew he’d made. Everything he did had glow about it, as though he were the heart of their villages firepit, ever burning, ever warm, even in summer. If she got to close, or if she lingered to long, would she burn?

Was he dangerous?

More dangerous the unknown warrior she had battled?

He had survived death after all.

She had seen him die.

Actually, now that she was studying him, he appeared stiff and in pain. Her brow furrowed in annoyance. Had he been hiding his own wounds from her all this time.

“How hurt are you?” she snapped.

He jolted. “Er. What?”

“You are obviously in pain.”

“I’m always in pain, sheesh, chill, lioness.” He rubbed his neck. “The day is just finally catching up with me, that’s all.”

Kohaku pursed her lips. She would let it go. For now.

“From the way you’ve been glaring at me, I’m going to presume you’ve never seen someone with albinism.” Senku yawned wearily.

“Albinism?” Kohaku tried her tongue around the word. It was not one she’d heard before, not even in the Hundred Tales.

Senku motioned to the sleeping Hiroto and then himself. “We’re both albino. Means we’re born without pigmentation in our skin, hair and eyes.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “It’s a genetic abnormality. Technically, it’s a defect but people get all defensive when you tell them you’re defective.” He shrugged. “Just a fact. I was born with a few little screws loose.” 

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” She blinked. “I mean, I understand some of your words, but I do…I do not understand their meaning.”

She would not have called his smile a smile, it was more a look of warmth and excitement that touched the edges of his eyes. “Just understanding each other is good enough. We can work with that.”

“So, you’re not…you’re not…from the sky?” Kohaku loathed sounding unsure.

“From the sky?” He spluttered.

She pointed up at the stars. “I thought you might be one of them. Perhaps a fallen star, like the Ancestors.”

“A star?” He blinked, and suddenly wheezed a laugh, curling himself over as he clapped a thigh.

Kohaku pursed her lips and crossed her arms stoutly. “Well, are you?”

He lifted himself and she was startled.

Oh—

So that’s what he looked like when he was smiling, when he was truly brilliantly happy and full of actual amusement and joy. Her cheeks tinted deeper. It was the firelight, surely, that made him look so bright and vibrant as he tipped his head to the side.

“We’re all stardust.” He beamed. “And that’s marvellous.”

“You know…” Kohaku whispered. “I think I like you.”

He almost dropped off his seat.

Oh yes. She very much liked him. She had decided, the moment she saw him on the mountain and thought him a fallen star.

Chapter Text

Kohaku found the sorcerer in the shallows of the brook near their small camp, and her forward momentum halted at the sight of him. He was stripped down from the heavy coat he usually wore, revealing the true extent of the bruising around his neck and shoulders. It churned her stomach and made her own injury ache. It was apparent that he’d come down hard on his side as he’d collapsed the day prior, and the rocks of the mountain hadn’t been kind, even with his heavy leather coat protecting him.

“You are very breakable.” She commented drily.

He jolted in alarm, causing water to splash about.

“Fuck!” He clutched at his chest. “Warn a guy before you kill him.” He wheezed.

Kohaku’s hands went to her hips. “Really? You didn’t hear me.” She hadn’t even been attempting to conceal her presence.

“No! Of course I didn’t hear a warrior goddess!” He flung out his arms. “And do you mind? I am kind of in the middle of something.” He gestured at the water dancing around his ankles.

“No, I don’t.” She sat herself down on a rock.

“Oh my god.” He covered his face and swung away. “Yuzuriha actually did it, she cursed me with her unscientific mumbo-girly-shite. I am so fucked. No, wait, crap. Don’t say that. Senku. Shut up. Brain. Stop. Please. Stop.” 

Kohaku leant forward, stretching as she grabbed her ankles. She had no idea what he was going on about, but it was delightfully amusing just watching him and listening to his voice.

Suddenly, he turned around, his attention alarmed. “Where is Hiroto?”

“He is fine, he’s hunting a rabbit for Nala.” Kohaku assured quickly. “We hiked to the hot spring and I collected what I originally came for. We can now head back to my village, whenever you are ready.” She glanced over his slender frame with a frown.

He arched an eyebrow at her and tipped himself back mockingly. “You finished admiring my extremely lame physique.”

“I do not understand.”

Senku blew a rasp. “No, you wouldn’t. Probably a good thing, to be honest. If not mildly confronting.”

“I am simply contemplating if you are well enough to travel.”

He snorted. “I’m fine.”

As much as he may have said those words, she had been around her sister too long to accept them. His movements were slow as he washed himself with the strange rock that made the water dance and shimmer and stick to him. However, from her observations thus far, she was concluding that he preferred to let himself linger and pause on moments, like the voice in his head was too fast, so he had adapted himself around that fast voice.

“What is that?” she asked, motioning to the rock he held.

“Soap.” Senku drawled out in a bored tone. “This one is made from seaweed ash, mixed with some olive oil, some added camphor oil and a bit of honey, just for sweetness.”

It didn’t make sense. This must have been another of his sorcery concoctions, like the paste he had smoothed over her wound the night prior. He lifted a carved wooden cup, dousing himself in water, washing away this ‘soap’ then slowly, he waded his way free of the brook.

“How far is your village?” He crouched by his bag, finding a skin to dry himself.

Kohaku shrugged. “Not far.”

The look she received tickled her with amusement. He peered at her through damp strands of white hair, a disgusted pout to his lips. “Judging from your exceptional level of fitness and the muscle definition of your legs, ‘not far’ means something very different to you than it does me.”

She wanted him to explain what he meant by such foreign sounds as ‘fitness’ and ‘muscle definition’, but since it sounded like he was complementing her while also simultaneously whinging, all she could do was snort and set the thought away for later. She had a more important query now that her mind was a little more rested.

“Where do you come from?”

Senku idly braided his wet hair. “Your ancient past. Which makes me feel like a time traveller. Heh.”

Kohaku raised a knee to her chin.

“Do you think I’m lying?” he asked.

“No.” Kohaku shook her head. “I am going to guess you and your pervious companions are all Captured Ones.”

“That what you call the stone statues? Interesting, so you do have a myth about them. That’s fascinating.” He finished his braids and Kohaku hid her smile. It wasn’t going to help how chaotic his hair got once it dried, but he seemed to try and keep it back from his eyes. She’d never seen such fine, delicate hair before.

“Oie.”

She jostled.

“It’s rude to stare.”

“Your hair is strange.”

“It’s fucking annoying.” Senku griped. “I just told you I’m from a different time, and you’re stuck on my hair.”

“It matters not when or where you are from,” Kohaku breathed in deeply. “You are now here.”

“That is true.” He looked to the sky. “Have to make the most of it, I guess—”

Kohaku snatched for her blades at the rustling of the undergrowth, halting as Nala burst out in pursuit of a bouncing rabbit, and following Nala, Hiroto came running. The little boy dashed past them both, tripped and fell face first into the muddy edge of the brook.

Senku gave a slow clap.

“Wow. That was truly spectacular, bub. Ten out of ten for the belly flop.”

Hiroto peeled himself up, grinning as he looked around and burst into giggles.

Kohaku raised her brow in surprise. She’d honestly expected the boy to erupt into tears, but perhaps with his brother nearby he was far more settled.

“I’m belly flop king!” Hiroto leapt up, splaying mud about.

“Oie, don’t get mud on me, I just washed.” Senku chided.

Hiroto bounced about, splaying more mud. “Dirt loves me!”

Senku sighed at his little brother’s grubby state. “Yes, apparently you attract it.” The sorcerer shrugged into his coat. “When we get to this village, we’ll be addressing this dirt issue with a good scrub down.”

“No! No baths!” Hiroto picked up handfuls of mud. “Only dirt!”

“Health starts with H for Hygiene, you little brat.” Senku pointed to him. “Wash off the mud, please.”

Kohaku watched with a smile as Hiroto splashed into the brook, washing off the mud. She eased herself off the rock she was perched on, taking Senku’s bag for him. He looked momentarily startled at the gesture, even tensed up, until his shoulders settled a little. She could understand his hesitation, and she was glad he wasn’t wholly trusting of her.

Or perhaps it was something else.

Hiroto let Senku rub and toss him dry, giggling the whole time. He came out very pink in the end.

“Right.” Senku huffed. “Go and get dirty again.”

“Are we going to meet up with Taiju and Yuzuriha?”

Kohaku noticed Senku’s shoulders tense again. Taiju and Yuzuriha. They must have been the other two people she’d noticed on the mountain.

Senku crouched down, idly braiding up Hiroto’s hair. “I’m sorry, bub, but I gave them a mission.”

“A mission?” Hiroto crinkled up his brow.

“Hm.” Senku hummed, bobbing his head back and forth. “They’re like secret ninjas, doing secret ninja things.”

“Whoooo. Ninjas! I’m a ninja!” Hiroto burst out, throwing his arms up. He dashed away, calling for Nala.

Kohaku smiled down at Senku. “He is very full of life.”

Senku tried to stand. She watched him falter and he sighed heavily. “Shite. Dying really fucked me up.”

Kohaku took his hands and eased him up. She swallowed a nervous franticness about how light he was to her clasp, and how well his hands felt gripped in her own. “Then that is all the more reason to return to the village.” She forced out an assured tone. “I have a hut. You shall sleep in it.”

“Are you also sleeping in the hut?”

“Of course, it is my hut.” She had made the hut herself. Was he an idiot. Perhaps he did not know about the importance of hut building. “Besides, you are weak. I will protect you.”

“Dude. You do not have to murder me like that. Sheesh, lioness.” He staked his chest, giving a small laugh as he twirled about. “Alright, thank you. I accept your hospitality.”

Kohaku smiled.

0000000

Senku contemplated the large jug—no—pot—no—container—vessel?

Okay. Whatever it was, it was huge. Hiroto was currently attempting to lift the thing, much to Kohaku’s great amusement. There was no way the kid would even budge it. It had to weigh at least seventy kilograms.

“And…you carry this?” He raised his attention back to the woman who was attempting to nudge closer to Nala. Kohaku gave up her mission to pet the feline and twirled on her feet.

“Every three days, I hike to the mountain and bring back the water from its depths for my sister. I have done this since forever and a day.” She tossed her hand about.

Senku’s brow lifted. Well—that explained so much about her physique. His hands twitched, recalling the subtle lines of muscles he’d felt the night prior. His gaze averted. This—this was not good.

“Senku!” Hiroto grappled his legs, thankfully, jostling his mind out of its current trajectory. “Do you think the village has other kids?! Do you think they will like me?”

Kohaku was strapping the water vessel up in ropes. “Outsiders are not welcome, but I have claimed you. It will be fine.”

“Why are outsiders not welcome?”

“They are those who have been banished by the Chief.”

What a wild notion. Senku breathed out. An isolated society—with perhaps the vaguest of notions of a world-from-before, and they considered everyone outside their society to have been born from anyone banished.

“How do you know I’m not one of these banished, and I’m not here to rape and pillage your village.”

She burst out laughing. “You?”

Well, okay. She didn’t have to say it with such a condescending tone. On the other hand, he really did like how she could make him feel so annoyed by just a single word.

Senku folded his arms. “Yes. Me. I make the perfect infiltrator, don’t I. Weak little arse I am, with a cute kid brother.”

“You make a fair argument, and perhaps I would suspect you, if you were not so obviously honest in your intentions.”

He wasn’t honest. That was insulting!

“Wait. What intentions?”

The harshness about her softened as she smiled. “You wish to save people. You are a healer.” Kohaku squatted, slotted her arms through several straps and lifted the water vessel. She jostled it about, seemingly attempting to get its weight solid on her hips.

“You really shouldn’t be carrying that with your wound.” Senku grumbled. It was hard to ignore the heat tinting the tips of his ears.

“I will simply be a little slower than usual, which is fine, since you are both with me. Come. I wish to reach home before nightfall.”

Senku heaved a sigh. Hiroto ran circles around him, laughing.

Well, at least Hiroto had been miraculously healed before a hatred and loathing of any physical activity set in. That was a positive he could get out of this entire petrification thing, right?

Yeah.

Maybe his little brother would grow up into—

His gaze settled on Kohaku and her lethal frame.

The future was terrifying.

“Oie, hurry up.” Kohaku called back to him.

“No.” He shouted. “These skinny legs have one pace, and it’s called slow. Deal with it, Lioness.”  

00000000

Senku had no hope in keeping up with the warrior goddess, and he didn’t even attempt to try. The petrification hadn’t undone being born with a weak heart, though he was enormously grateful that it had allowed him to even manage hiking up a mountain. If only Byakuya could see him now—the old-man wouldn’t know what to say. This was something they’d always talked about doing, but he’d never been well enough for it.

Swallowing back bile Senku slid slowly to his knees. Nope. Okay. He had to stop, he was starting to see sparkling little dots and a sharp, jabbing pain was catching him in his chest. That was his body flashing up a big neon sign of warning, and he was not an idiot, he wasn’t going to ignore it.

He bent over, resting on his knees, taking slow, steady breaths as the black dots marked his vision. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand…

“Senku?” Hiroto clutched at his arm, shaking him. “Are you okay?”

Senku eased up, blinking at the blurriness of his vision. “Fine, bub.” He raised fingers to his neck, counting his rapid pulse. “My heartrate just spiked a bit high. You know me and cardio.” He joked, trying to hide the depressiveness of the whole lifetime of pain.

Hiroto pressed his ear against his chest and Senku gave his little brother’s back a gentle pat with his free hand. That is how they stayed until he managed to bring his heartrate down and Hiroto pulled away from him, smiling happily.

“There! All better!” Hiroto slapped hands onto his hips.

Senku managed a small smile. “Yep. All better. Thank you.”

Hiroto nodded stoutly and headed off with a proud tilt to his chin. Senku breathed in deeply and dragged himself up again. Waiting patiently, without a word of protest for his tardiness, was the warrior goddess. It had been one of his greatest shames in life, causing others around him to slow up for him, to make time for him, to be forced to redirect their life around him.

He had hated it.

It had made him so angry and so bitter.

And it threatened to rear back up right now, because—fuck it—he was so lame.

She trotted down to him, and he startled as she held out several pieces of dried fruit, which he was pretty sure were apricot.

“Thank you.” He murmured, taking them.

“They are good. Yes.”

Senku nodded, nibbling on one. Sun-dried. They’d retained their sweetness and tartness. It was nice, to eat something that was a little bit like candy again.

“Is it your wound?” Kohaku asked, walking beside him as they continued along the path that she undoubtably took often, and knew well.

“No. I have an ineffective heart.”

She frowned.

Senku tapped his chest. “It’s one of our organs. It pumps blood through our body. Here…” He reached out, taking her hand and lifting it to her neck. “Do you feel that beat?”

He watched her eyes flick down as her free hand clutched at her dress, then her gaze shifted to him with a skittish hesitancy. “Yes,” she affirmed.

Senku squeezed her hand. “That’s your heartbeat, your pulse. It is the very rhythm to which we all live by. From the moment we are formed, it will dictate our existence.” He lowered his hand away, giving it a flick from the imaginary static feeling.

“And yours does not work.” Kohaku tipped her head curiously.

Senku shrugged. “It’s a good as it’s going to get, which, I’ll be honest, this…” he spread his hands at the ridge they were walking on. “This is so much more than I ever imagined being capable of.”

As much as he loathed physically pushing himself to any capacity, there was something marvellously human about reaching a peak with his own weak arse legs, even if he was half-dead.

Hiroto’s bountiful child energy began to flag at the two-hour mark into their trek. Despite the pain in his neck and shoulders, Senku rearranged his pack, settling it on his front to free up his back. He crouched low, allowing Hiroto to clamber onto his back and curl up into the curve of his shoulder. It was going to make him even slower, but, if he took it one step at a time, he’d manage.

“You’re alright, bub.” He steadied his hot, aching feet. Leather shoes didn’t do much against the roughness of a long hike, and sure, while the soles of his feet had hardened over the two years he’d been awakened in this new world, the pressure of rocks and sticks still hurt.

What he wouldn’t do for a solid pair of sneakers, or hiking boots, right about now.

Hiroto sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Yesterday was a big emotional day, yeah, it’s only natural you’d be very tired. See, look, even Nala is tired.” Senku nudged the lion cub gently, making her stir from her spot by his foot. She yawned and tangled herself between his legs before trotting on ahead, following the path Kohaku was taking across a ridge. If he looked to his left, he could see for miles out into the distance, a sprawling landscape of gorgeous forest and angled mountaintops that sunk into low valleys with coiling rivers and deep lakes. Yet it was the ocean that kept drawing his gaze. It was a completely unfamiliar coastline that was ahead of him. This world felt alien. This planet didn’t feel like Earth. His mind kept blitzing out, freezing on the strange eeriness that he—did—not—belong.

This was not his time.

This was not his world.

This was all wrong.

Kohaku moved at a slow, easy pace, graceful and elegant as if the weight she carried was naught to her, which, he supposed—after so many years—she’d become an expert at such a hike.

“We’re going to get so sunburnt.” Hiroto grumbled.

“I’ll make us some aloe vera cream when we get to…wherever we’re going.” Senku sighed. Even with the cone hats Yuzuriha had made them, the sun was still their worst enemy in the peak of the day, especially on a ridge such as this without shade.

He estimated it was another half-hour until Kohaku called a solid break. He probably wouldn’t have last much longer than that, and maybe she’d sensed his flagging. She seemed perceptive enough.

“I’m going to guess you’d have reached home by now, if not for us?” Senku sunk down against the trunk of a lone tree. Blessed shade. He startled as his hand encountered a stone finger. Fuck—that was just—

It took a moment to calm his nerves as he held up the dismembered limb. Senku sighed. Well, that was depressing. Someone was missing a hand. He set it down carefully.  

Kohaku was crouched, nibbling curiously on a piece of dried meat he’d given her. “I would be, yes, but I also do not mind the slower pace. Sometimes, it is nice to see the world outside the village.”

“Your people won’t worry about you?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I am known to be capable.”

That he did believe.

“And also…” she tipped her head to the side, her lips perking up a little. “Rebellious.” 

He arched an eyebrow.

He also believed that ten billion percent.

Senku wearily dropped his head back. The soft wind cooled his sweat, making the heat of the day less seething. If he closed his eyes, he could almost make out the sound of traffic and buzzing electricity wires, and the low beating of human feet on concrete pavement. An illusion, yes, but it was nice to just—be momentarily lost in the desire for what once was.

For Byakuya’s solid hand on his shoulder after a workday.

He was pulled from his spiralling thoughts by Hiroto shouting his name.

Opening his eyes to the bright, intense sunlight, Senku blink rapidly. Hiroto was scrambling down a series of large boulders.

“Senku! Senku! Senku!”

His little brother smacked into him like a particle inside an accelerator. Senku winced as he was crawled all over. “Careful. Careful. Gentle. Hiroto, you are not a radioactive isotope.”

Hiroto squealed. “I can see the village! Come and look! Come and look!”

Kohaku smiled, tossing her head to the side. “You are right, you can see the village from the high point. Well done, Hiroto.”

Hiroto beamed proudly.

“Bleh, don’t encourage him.” Senku crawled up on shaking legs. “Alright, lead me oh-grubby-one.”

Even burdened by the water on her back, Kohaku daintily followed them up the rocks. Senku tipped his cone hat back, squinting out across the horizon. His hand immediately reaching out to snatch Hiroto back from the edge.

“Don’t.” He warned with a sharp tonal inflection.

“But I did it before.”

Senku frowned. “Do not do it again.”

“But—”

“Your brother is correct, hoshi.” Kohaku joined them. “Do not go near the edge without either of us with you.”

Senku mentally scoffed as Hiroto pouted but relented, only to grab hold of his legs. “Up! Please! Up!”

Senku heaved a dramatic sigh and swung his pack down. “Fine…”

He had to make the most of it. Hiroto was going to grow out of this. He could force himself to be the older brother, to be strong enough to hoist him up, for just a bit longer until the day came when it was simply impossible.

Hiroto bounced against his hip. “Look! See, there! Houses! Real houses! Yay!” Hiroto pointed out across the forest.

“Lake Ashi…” he whispered.

At least—well—he was pretty sure that’s where they were. It was difficult to truly know, considering how much the landscape had changed. The last time they’d visited Lake Ashi, it hadn’t had such vast cliffs, nor had it appeared to be nearly so deep a well spring. It was overwhelming, the weight of the almost four thousand years, and the evidence of it all around him.

The lake’s water glinted bright and blue against the sunlight. Bobbing around several dotted islands, the largest island being of considerable size in the centre, little fishing boats were sprinkled about.

He couldn’t help it.

Senku smiled.

Fishing boats.

It was a village. Hiroto was right. It had little huts, some bigger, others smaller, and swing bridges strung between the multiple islands and the mainland. A buzzing thrill tingled up his spine.

He almost didn’t believe it. It’d been so long since he’d seen anything even remotely noting of civilization, but, there it was—it’d been here—this whole time. He hadn’t been the only one awake—alive—

His heart hadn’t been the only one beating.

Kohaku’s arm brushed up against his and he tensed.

There was a whole little functioning society down there.

People.

Where had they come from? Had the Green Light not caught everyone, or had some people—like him—Awakened earlier? She’d mentioned Ancestors.

He needed more information before he could form any sort of hypothesises.

“Well, shall we continue?” Kohaku motioned ahead.

Senku crouched and Hiroto clambered onto his back. Hiroto dropped his head on his shoulder, giving a deep sigh. “I love you, Senku.”

Okay. That was random. Senku chuckled. “I love you too, bub.”

Since they had reached the peak of the ridge, their journey was now downhill, which Senku wanted to be happy about, but there nothing—nothing at all—that was positive about forcing his wussy legs to carry himself, a pack, and his little brother down some rocky mountain path and through root infested forests.

He needed something to distract himself from the burning of his calf muscles. Think. Think.

Senku’s gaze shifted to the woman in front of him, the muscles in her legs visibly shifting and pulling with her movements in such a way that it was just mesmerising.

Okay.

Not helping.

He dropped his head back, giving a huff of frustration.

Maybe he could ask questions, and find information, surely that would distract him.

“Oie, Lioness.”

Kohaku didn’t halt. “You know, I never said you could call me that.”

“Don’t care.” He scoffed. “I noticed you guy’s have built your homes on some islands, any idea why?”

She twirled around, bouncing up a few paces to join him so they were side by side.

“I don’t know.” Kohaku shrugged. “We have lived there for time over time.” Her brow furrowed. “When my sister was of much better health, we used to have Tales Nights, in which the Elders would speak to us the old stories of the villages founding and my sister would share one of The Hundred Tales.”

Senku inwardly buzzed. These people had an oral tradition. He needed to know it. The hunger was intense. Knowledge. There was information out there for him to absorb! His feet bounced a little lighter.

This was brilliant.

“Sadly, with my sister’s health in such decline, we have not had a Tales Night in many, many moons.” Kohaku sighed. “It worries me, for she has not passed on the Tales.”

“How does that usually happen?” He asked in honest curiosity.

“At the priestess’s maturity, there is a tournament to find the new chief, she would wed the winner of the tournament, they would become new chief and they would have children. One of those children would be chosen to carry on The Hundred Tales.”

Senku had halted completely, a weight dropping into his stomach. “Wait, maturity? That’s…some girls go into menstruation at like…ten…”

Kohaku looked back at him. “What is menstruation?”

Senku stared at her blanky. Heh. May as well just be blunt about the basics. He thrust his hands down at his own crotch. “When you bleed from your vagina.”

Kohaku tapped her chin, entirely unphased. “No, there is a Hundred Tale warning about that. Maturity is sixteen years.” She motioned to her tattooed thigh, and he tried so very hard not to let his eyes linger on the inked design that vanished beneath her blooded stained dress. “I was received into womanhood last summer,” she added.

Senku slapped his face. “I want to go back to high school. Please. Green Light, send me back. I won’t complain about my boring final year before boring university.”

“You are very strange.” Kohaku gave his head a condescending pat.

“Right so, if you’re…” Senku paused, mentally counting, “seventeen summers?” was that the correct terminology for them, “then your sister must be…what…twenty?”

“She is nearing nineteen summers. Father is most displeased at my conduct.” Like a proud peacock, she puffed up a little.

“Your conduct?” Senku arched an eyebrow.

“Indeed.” Kohaku grinned. “Anyone can enter the tournament to win the priestesses hand, to become chief!”

Oh. Oh—ohhhh—

“I have won, every year, since my sister’s maturity. Though, I will admit, it has been getting more difficult. Magma is…improving…” She spat in disgust.

Senku breathed out. She—she was incredible. She’d been fighting for her sister for years. He tightened his arm around Hiroto against his back.

“So…doesn’t that make you Chief?” He quired, stepping over a fallen log.

“You’d think, wouldn’t you.” Kohaku scoffed. “Obviously I have proven myself capable, and the village people trust me as a chief’s daughter…” she fiddled with the headband of shells strung through her hair. “But no…that is not how it goes. My sister is a priestess, not a priest.”

Ah. Right. So it was all about the gender of the holy-person then. How fascinating. How much of an influence did this priestess/priest have over such a small population. Wait—hold up—hold up—

Senku shuffled Hiroto about on his back uncomfortably. The lucky little brat had gone and taken a nap, which, considering their topic of conversation, was probably a good thing. “Hang on, if your sister was a dude, it’d work? You’d marry him?”

Again. She looked at him like he was the idiot. “That would be against The Hundred Tales.” Kohaku nodded. “Even if it allowed me to save the village.” She twisted her hands up tight against the straps holding the water vessel to her back. “As I am, I cannot save my people.” She twirled on her feet, smiling back at him. “But that does not mean I will not try.”

Senku swallowed.

Her eyes were fire and resolve. There was a solidness about her that he wanted to be near. He was going to blame the lack of equilibrium he was feeling at losing Taiju and Yuzuriha so rapidly, so his squishy human brain was wanting to find someone—anyone—to latch onto. He mentally envisioned a large red button, emblazoned with the word ignore, and started spamming it. There, that was better, just ignore it.  

Soon they were close enough to the village for Senku to pick up the scent of fires, most likely used for smoking fish. Hiroto got a new spurring of life at the sight of the water and clambered off his aching back. Senku stretched, leaning on a tree.

Kohaku tipped over to view him, hinging at the hip. “You have done better than I expected.”

“All of my limbs want to fall off, I am dripping in sweat, and it’s disgusting.” He bemoaned.

“You are very amusing.”

“I am not trying to be funny.” He dropped his head back, calling out. “Hiroto! Don’t run off!”

“I’m not!”

“The fuck you are!” Senku hollered.

Kohaku crouched, removing the water from her back. Senku winced at the hard, dark red strap lines burned into her shoulders. He resisted the temptation to remark on them, and his leg jiggled in the desperate need to tend to the injuries.

Kohaku pointed at him. “Stay here. Do not approach the village.”

“Where are you going?” He flopped around, watching her leave between the bushes.

He received a tart, scathing look. “I would prefer not to present myself in such a fashion to my sister. It would be uncouth of me.”

Uncouth. He mouthed the word. Uncouth.

What—the—

“You just need to shite and piss.” He scoffed.

A rock was flung past him. Senku cracked a grin, throwing up his hands as he twirled around on his toes. “My bad. My bad.” 

It took all of about three minutes for him to get bored. Senku popped his lips. Yeh. Okay. He skipped past Hiroto and Nala, heading down the trodden path through the trees. Hiroto happily followed.

“Do you remember coming to Lake Ashi with Dad?” Senku asked.

“We did?” Hiroto gasped.

Senku nodded. “You might not remember; you were a little wiggling thing.” He jiggled his fingers around. “But it was your first big trip with us after the adoption papers went through.”

“Did you like me?”

Senku shrugged. “I’ll be honest, Hiroto, I didn’t really give it much thought. It was an event that happened, and that was that.”

“So, you liked me.”

“I suppose so.” Senku mused. He guessed if he hadn’t liked the intrusion into the family unit, he’d have taken it very differently.

Their stroll took them through the tree line that began to grow dotted the closer to the lake edge. Senku took a deep breath. Water. Sweet water. The crystal shimmer danced and glinted against his eyes, catching beneath the hood of his cone hat.

He couldn’t help the smile that inked across his lips as he took in the village, woven across the multiple islands like a patchwork quilt. They had colour in their flags, which indicated they had some knowledge of dye, they had flags strung up between huts, which indicated some knowledge of linin.

Lanterns danced in the wind and he could only imagine that at night, they would burn brightly against a dark world. The only light of civilization for hundreds of years. The thought thrilled him, making him want to cackle with how incredible it was. He wanted to talk to these people, he wanted to know how—what—why—

“Now that is a really well-built rope bridge.” Senku cocked his head at the impressively long rope bridge between the first of the village’s islands and the mainland. Whoever had constructed it knew a thing or two about engineering. Hiroto bounced around him.

“I want to run across! Can I?! Can I!? Please. Please. Please. Please!”

Senku shook his head. “We should probably wait for Kohaku to finish her lady business before approaching any further.”

Hiroto pouted and kicked at the rocks around them. “Boring.”

“That’s life.” Senku groaned, stretching his back and reaching down to his toes, trying to achieve a burn in his muscles. Oh—that felt good.

He heard crunching stones and running feet. Senku sighed. And there went Hiroto, completely disobeying him. Was this going to be a thing? Was he going to have to do timeout with the brat or some shite?

Senku looked up. “Hiroto, I said not to—”

Hiroto had made it to the bridge, and that was a far as he got. There was now a very tall young man at the bridge entrance who hadn’t been there before.

He’d scooped Hiroto up.

Senku’s world froze. He’d gotten complacent. He’d become relaxed. Or was he always this way—

Shite—

He was—

Shite—

Shite—

Shite—

This was his natural state.

“Put him the fuck down!” Senku loosened his sling, slipping into an attack stance. “Or I will put a stone through your skull.”

Something sharp pressed into the curve of his back. Senku stiffened as a nasally voice spoke up behind him.

“Drop it, or I will put a spear through your gut.”

Senku sighed. “You really don’t want to do this.”

Actually, if he was being honest, he was the one who didn’t want to do this, because he was sore and irritated and there was a high possibility of him getting hurt and Hiroto getting hurt.

“It is you who has trespassed upon our land.” The browned-haired goon holding Hiroto held out a spear. “This is a crime.”

“Well whoopsie doo.” Senku’s tone sharpened. “Put my little brother down and we’ll walk away, how’s that?”

“Kinro, I don’t like him. Let’s take him to the Chief.” Again a spear tip jutted into his back. Senku reacted. His foot slapped down, sling whipped with fierce ferocity, smacking hard on the kneecap of the man behind him. He smashed his elbow on the spear, sending it downward, far enough that he could slam his foot against it. He swung his sling again, whiplashing it in a crack, shattering the taunt wood of the spear. The young man scrambled away in terror. Senku kept twirling the sling, snapping his attention back to the one who held Hiroto.

“I said put him the fuck down.”

“Senku!”

Oh. The lioness had finally decided to return from her toilet trip. He was saved. Wait. Was he being sarcastic or serious—he—he couldn’t mentally tell. Gah.

Senku let his sling loosen. “Took you long enough, Lioness.” He drawled. “Tell this moron to give me back my brother.”

Kohaku just stood there, gaping at him, like she was a fish. He was very, very tempted to slap her jaw up.

“How did you…?” she spluttered indignantly.

Senku glanced over at moron-number-two, still on the ground, groaning as he clutched his knee.

Senku shrugged. “Heh. Science.”

000000

Apparently Senku took her instruction to ‘not wander off’ as permission to wander off. And Senku openly wondered where Hiroto got his tendency to just run about randomly.

From what she’d observed—

They both had the trait.

Kohaku shook her head at the scene she was confronted with. She had arrived in time to see Senku move with accurate precision and deliberate movements, taking down poor Ginro with ease. That—that wasn’t overly hard, she would admit—but she could take down all the warriors of their village, so her opinion was not fair.

No, what had startled her was how Senku had performed the action. The weapon he held hissed like a snake as it twirled around. Even his movements had been fast and jabbing. His explanation was unsatisfactory, and she jutted a finger straight into his chest as she strolled past.

“We shall be discussing this.”

Senku raised both his hands, making an innocent, dismissive motion.

Kohaku held out her arms. “Kinro, the boy, he is mine.”

Immediately Kinro handed a stiff, terrified Hiroto over. Kohaku quickly carried him back to Senku, who’s sarcastic, chilled demeanour faded as he gathered his little brother to his chest and began a soothing bounce.

“This isn’t good for him.” Senku murmured. “He hasn’t even recovered from yesterday. I’m getting him out of the sun.”

“I will deal with this, go sit by the big tree. I will join you once I have finished my business. This time, do not wander off.”

He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and she was unsure if it was a noise of acceptance, or of annoyance, or simply his way of affirming her words. He continued to be fascinating.

Kohaku grabbed Ginro and heaved him up. “Stop grovelling, you are fine.”

“I’m dying!”

“You are not dying.” She slapped him several times on the rump to get him moving. “By the Ancestors, I cannot fathom why Father has you on guard duty.”

No—she knew why—because, for all his weak selfishness, Ginro was good with the spear, when he actually decided he wanted to be, which was rare. Having grown up sharing a crib with the two brothers, there was a familiarity between them.

She watched Ginro hobble along on his knee. Had Senku actually managed to hurt him? They’d never hear the end of it. Kinro motioned for his brother to sit, and he crouched, tenderly checking his leg. A harsh welt was visible just above the knee.

Kinro sighed. “You underestimated your opponent.”

“I know.” Ginro griped.

Wetting a piece of hide, Kinro gently placed it upon the bruised skin. “Do not get so close next time.”

Kohaku nodded in agreement.

Kinro stood, sending her a scathing look that she felt all the way down to her toes.

“You’re late. Jasper and Turquoise have been asking after you.”

She shuffled the water vessel about on her hips, sloshing the contents. Jasper and Turquoise; Ruri’s guards, the High Guards. A job Kinro and Ginro would have inherited, if it were not for the poisonous words of Mantle. Jasper—Jasper had been her father’s voice of reason for so many seasons, until mother’s death, and then it seemed like everything changed when Mantle began murmuring into Father’s ears.

“I found a sorcerer on the mountain.” Kohaku motioned back to Senku, sitting beneath the shade of the largest tree. He gave the three of them a small wave. Kohaku waved back, smiling. Even from this distance, her smile received one in return and her stomach knotted a little.

“And I have claimed him.” Kohaku added stoutly.

Ginro gave a loud, dramatic gasp from where he sat, propped up against the bridge, nursing his pained knee.

“But, but...you and Kinro have an understanding!” Ginro protested hotly.

They both turned to him simultaneously.

Kinro pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a frustrated hiss between his teeth. “How many times do I have to go over this Ginro. We are pretending, so that the Chief doesn’t marry Kohaku off to Magma or Mantle.”

Kohaku shuddered in disgust. She honestly wasn’t sure who of the two was more horrifying. Mantle she could physically overpower but he was a weasel in her father’s ear, always with his flowery words and nasty little smile. Magma was power and prosperity, he overwhelmed everything and all with his sheer force. Not even Jasper, who had once been their villages strongest fighter after her Father, could hold his own against Magma now. She feared for the village if Mantle and Magma managed to gain power, especially with Ruri so ill, and having never trained another Priestess in the Hundred Tales.

Kinro understood her fear.

That they were on the crux of losing everything they loved. It was why he was such a stickler to the rules, and why she could use him to bend them.

“He is an Outsider. I still cannot permit him past, even if you’ve claimed him and his. Until you have proof of union, you know your father will not accept it.”

She deflated. She was being selfish. Wishing to solve all her problems quickly.

“Does he even know?” Kinro’s tone was gentle, but there was a reprimand there. Kohaku shook her head.

He exhaled sharply in only the way Kinro could.

“Then you haven’t even really claimed him, have you, you have no understanding. You must reach an understanding first, otherwise it is not right. You know this. You wish this. Do not be rash because of your Father.”

Kohaku stomped, crunching the stones on the path. Why—why did Kinro always make sense. Why was he always so—so—so—right.

“I don’t have time.” She clenched her hands to her thighs. “Ruri is dying!”

Kinro’s shoulders dropped, as though deeply disappointed in her, or that she hadn’t accepted his words. So, he fell back on his usual line. “The rules are—”

“The rules, I know.” Kohaku looked back towards Senku and Hiroto. She did not want to leave them, but her duty to her sister came first, and she was sure Senku understood that, at least from what little they had conversed on the topic. “Please, watch them while I take this to my sister.” She motioned to the water on her back. “Do not start another fight. He is my claim. I wish him and his unharmed.”

Kinro’s lips pressed thin in displeasure.

“Please, Kinro.” Kohaku took his hand, twisting their fingers together like a knot, as she had since their childhood days. “He is not a bad man. He is a sorcerer, a great one—he—and he is mine, so, now he is also yours.”

Kinro leant on his spear. “Only you, sister, would claim an Outsider.” His tone was amused and jesting, as though, he’d known, all along, that this had been her fate.

“It is not as though Father presented me with other options.” Kohaku headed for the bridge.

“This is true.” Kinro scratched his chin before giving a frustrated scowl.

“What about me?” Ginro raised his hand. “You could claim me!”

Kinro kicked his brother.

Chapter Text

Kohaku jogged her way through the village. She bounced on her toes as several of the children dashed past, parrying a woven reed between them with sticks. Their laughter was enriching, enticing her back to the days when she’d been that carefree, dashing about with Kinro and Ginro. It hadn’t even been that long ago, and yet—

Yet—

It felt like a lifetime ago.

A time unburdened by the weight she now carried.

She’d wanted so badly to wash the blood off her dress, but her attempts to do so had ended in failure, so, she was just going to have to fend off the inquiries from Jasper, Turquoise and her sister.

The Temple was situated within one the small centre islands, and to reach it one had to cross the Starway Bridge, one of the oldest structures within their village. Every child born had their name carved into the bridge, they’d started running out of space over the generations, and so, now wind-charms were added, dangling from the bridge itself whenever a new babe was born. The sound was so sweet and peaceful. She’d heard it all her life; the sound of the stars, her mother had whispered to her at night as they gazed up at the great blanket that smothered day.

Kohaku pursed her lips. Waiting for her on the other side of Starway Bridge was Jasper. He was of her father’s generation, indeed, they had practically grown up as brothers—in a similar fashion, she was sure, as she had to Kinro and Ginro. If the Grand Bout of that era had gone differently, Jasper could have been chief, he could have married her mother instead.

She was sure that a little—tiny part of her mother—would have preferred if Jasper had won that fateful day. She’d never have said it, but Kohaku had noticed it, over the years, the way the two of them had shifted and moved around each other with such unease. It was most likely that poisonous bard which Mantle was leaning on to cause a rift between her father and Jasper. Quiet and dependable Jasper who looked at her with warm green eyes and sometimes, Kohaku was sure, he saw her mother.

“What happened to you? We expected you back two days ago. Ruri has been beside herself with worry.” Jasper blocked her way. He bore the ceremonial spear of the High Guard, a spear he could weld if he needed too. She’d felt the fierceness of that spear and it was only thanks to Jaspers training that she had ever stood a chance against Magma. His words were the words of worry that she wished her father would utter to her, but father—

Kohaku clutched a hand against her tattooed thigh.

Father didn’t even look at her anymore.

Jasper—

Jasper had been the one who had marked her right into womanhood, who had kissed her forehead, who had told her she was strong, brave and true. Jasper worried. Jasper berated. It was all twisted up and wrong, and yet somehow, it was also right.

Kohaku looked down the path towards the Temple. A hut raised above the ground on stilts, colourful prayer flags draped down its sides and hung on four poles positioned into the soil by its corners. Aloft its roof, the symbol of their village was raised high.

The fallen star.

Every time she saw it, her chest tightened.

“I had a little incident, that’s all.” Kohaku brushed past him. He could not know about Senku until she had time to make proper the understanding. If Jasper found out—Senku would most likely find himself with a spear through his gut.

“It looks more to me than something little.” Jasper pursued her. “You are carrying yourself improper, and your dress is bloodied.”

“It’s honestly nothing.” She tried dismissing it. “Really, Jasper, please!” Kohaku thumped the water vessel down, so grateful to have its enormous weight off her shoulders and back. Now she felt like a feather, free to toss about wherever she wished.

“I don’t want Father getting any ideas.”

Jasper sighed. “He won’t hear it from me, but other villagers will talk.”

Kohaku nodded. It was awful, using her father to twist around Jasper, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Kohaku! Oh thank goodness!”

Kohaku looked up at the cry. Ruri was being led down the stairs of the Temple by Turquoise. Her sister’s frailness was painful to see. Her arms so thin, her hips bony even beneath her pretty blue dress, and her once luscious blond hair had lost its lustre.

“Sister!” Kohaku rushed to her, hugging her gently, as though she were a delicate flower.

“Kohaku, what happened?!” Ruri’s hands touched her hair. “You’ve tied your hair differently…”

Oh. Whoops. She hadn’t even noticed that.

“And this blood…” Ruri grasped at her dress. “You…you…”

“Ruri.” Kohaku grasped Ruri’s hands. “I’m fine. I’m home. That’s all that matters. Come on, let’s have Jasper and Turquoise reheat this mountain water for you.”

“Will you promise to tell me what happened?” Ruri protested.

Kohaku heaved a huff of frustration. Older sisters never quit.

“Okay. Fine.” She whined.

Ruri smiled in victory, only to dissolve into a coughing fit. Kohaku held onto her as she wheezed and convulsed. That was it. That was all she could do—

000000

Turquoise had left them alone in the bathhouse after Ruri’s insistence.

“So…are you going to tell me what really happened?” Ruri asked again.

Kohaku sat on the rim of the bath, playing her hands through the warm scented water.

“There was a sorcerer on the mountain.”

“An Outsider sorcerer?” Ruri’s brow furrowed. “Truly?”

Kohaku nodded.

“I think I found him, Ruri. The fallen star in your stories.”

Her sister gave a small chuckle. “Oh Kohaku, that’s impossible, you know they’re just tales.”

“There is so much more...” Kohaku looked the door, to the horizon across the lake and the greater world she had not yet explored. She eased off the edge of the bath and headed for the view, leaning on the doorframe.

“You were always the dreamer, always the one wanting to push forward.” Ruri sighed. “This village was never enough for you.”

Kohaku frowned. “That’s not true.” She clenched her hands. “This village is everything to me. You are everything to me. I would die for you.”

“I do not want you to die for me, Kohaku, I want you to live.” Ruri dropped her head back wearily.

Kohaku closed her eyes. This conversation was going around in circles. Ruri was not in a good mood, she must have been in pain then. She slipped back into the room, kneeling by the bath and propping her chin up on her arms.

“I have claimed him.”

Ruri jostled about. “You what?!”

“Shhh!” Kohaku hissed. “You’ll bring in Jasper!”

“Kohaku! Father will—”

Kohaku scoffed. “He’ll what, excommunicate me?” She punctuated the words mockingly. “He’s already done that and it hasn’t worked, has it?”

Ruri gave a warm laugh. “Oh, Kohaku. You are such a delight.”

She was smothered in a wet hug.

“Now I simply must meet this sorcerer who has captured you so.” 

Kohaku smiled. “Then live, Ruri. Live.”

The arms around her tightened. “I will.”

Chapter Text

It took time to calm Hiroto, but, it seemed time was something they had, waiting for Kohaku to return—again. Senku had never done well waiting for people. Waiting in lonely hospital rooms. Waiting in hospital corridors. Waiting for doctors and nurses. Waiting for dead parents. Waiting. Waiting. Just the sound of his own mind clicking over.

Senku sighed.

Shite.

The numbers.

Shite.

He dropped his head back.

And here he had thought they’d gone. He’d thought dying had reset the clock. Was he going to be haunted forever by their presence? They were a bit fainter—so—that was—a positive.

Hiroto shuffled around in his lap, curling up closer. Senku tucked his chin down against the little tuff of white hair. “You’re alright, bub.”

“I’m scared. I don’t like this place. I want to go home. Can we go home now.”

“This will be our new home.”

“I liked old home better.”

“I know.”

“I want Dad.”

“I know.”

“Bring Dad back.”

“I can’t.”

“You came back!” Hiroto’s nails dug into his arm. “Dad can come back.”

Senku shook his head. “Dad died a long, long time ago, bub.”

Even if he and the astronauts had been turned to stone along with the rest of humanity, the space station would have eventually fallen from orbit. It would have crashed. Their bodies would have been obliterated.

If, in the off chance they hadn’t been turned to stone—

He loathed that thought.

He loathed the idea of them stuck up there, in space, dying—

Alone.

He hated that he’d not had one more chance to say that one phrase to Byakuya. To just be—sentimental.

Hiroto was hitting him. Senku caught one of his little hands.

“Hiroto...”

“I hate you!” Hiroto shouted. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Ah. So they’d moved onto this phase. He’d been steeling himself for it. Almost two years now, and he’d been waiting for those words to bubble up and out of his little brother. He’d had his moment with Byakuya, a long time ago, when his own emotions had simply erupted in frustration and bitterness. Wasn’t as if he’d meant the words, but they’d still come out of him.

“That’s okay.” Senku cradled Hiroto. “It’s okay. I’m here…”

Hiroto dissolved into wailing sobs until he cried himself out, his little voice breaking.

“I thought I was going to be all alone, forever and ever.” Hiroto mumbled into his coat, pressing in closer. “Please don’t go away again. Please, Senku. Please. Please.”

“It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’re together. I love you,” he took Hiroto’s red cheeks, “to the Moon and back.”

Hiroto giggled, throwing his arms out. “No, I love you, to Pluto and back!”

Senku smiled wearily. “Glad we’re still including Pluto.”

Under the shade of the large pine tree, they rested. The needles were soft and compressed, adding a cushion to sore limbs. The air was cool on damp clothing. Senku could almost blank out the numbers by studying the birds nesting in the tree. He was exhausted, his mind was tired, his body was weary, and he was emotionally drained. It made him feel like a solid metal ingot, burrowing into a pool of mud, drowning and unable to breathe properly. Thus he focused on Hiroto’s weight against his chest, and kept rhythmically patting his little brother’s back gently in a soothing manner.

Gradually the sound of footsteps crunching into the pine needles stirred him. Senku slowly sat up, arching an eyebrow at Kohaku as she approached them. He eased onto his feet, deciding not to remain seated in her presence.

She’d changed out of the torn, bloodied clothes she’d been wearing, and was now attired in something he could only compare to a two-piece wrap. The embroidery was intricate, depicting delicate flowers, stars and shells. His fingers twitched to reach out and touch the fabric. This village had embroidery. They had fine needlework. Was that silk? That meant they had a means of producing thread.

This was exciting!

He bounced on his toes.

Kohaku crouched, causing her skirt to divide in several places, revealing her tattooed legs. Senku pinched thumb and finger to the bridge of his nose, crinkling his brow.

Not. Helping.

“Here, Hiroto, these are for you.” Kohaku offered, holding out a selection of linin. “Your clothes are very tatty.”

“Senku made them.” Hiroto proudly proclaimed.

“Yes, that is obvious.”

“Hey.” Senku spluttered out a protest, jerking his attention up, only to freeze at Kohaku crouching directly in front of him. He stepped back. “Personal space. Sheesh.”

“Why are you looking away?” Kohaku asked.

“Oh, he’s embarrassed.” Hiroto beamed. “Because you’re pretty.”

Well—er—he wasn’t wrong.

Kohaku tossed back the loose bangs of her golden hair. “Thank you, Hiroto.”

Senku sighed, dragging a hand over his braids as Kohaku began helping Hiroto change, rattling off how she’d visited her sister and delivered the special mountain water to her.

“Thankfully, I didn’t run into my father.” Kohaku breathed out in heavy relief as she pulled a shirt over Hiroto’s head, tucking it around his middle with a neat little knotted multi-hued rope. It was akin to the one’s Senku had seen the two brothers at the bridge wearing, other than the colours woven into it, they were distinct. It reminded him of the elaborate patterns of a Scottish kilt. Kohaku knotted it in similar style to her own, leaving him wondering if there were different knots for genders, ages and different roles and stations in the village. Kohaku sat back on her heels, spinning Hiroto around in a little twirl.

“There we go, now you’re protected.” She stood, looking to him expectantly.

Did she want him to strip and change. Haha. No. He liked his coat. It was awesome.

Senku raised his hands. “Ten billion percent not happening.”

She pouted, but inclined her head.

His tense shoulders eased a little. Wow. That was—that was nice—she wasn’t going to push his personal space zone. Seemed she was intuitive enough to know, or notice, his heightened state. Most people kept annoying him when he was this wound up like a corkscrew, ending up with him just being a total jerk to them.

She grabbed his pack for him, slinging it over her shoulder with ease.

“What do you mean by indicating he is now protected?” Senku followed along beside her as she led them down a marked path, away from the village’s main bridge. Hiroto took his hand and he let the little brat hug close to him in a clingy manner. That emotional outburst was going to have a lingering effect for a couple hours at most.

“He wears my colours, and my knot.” Kohaku motioned to the knotted rope in her hair. “Since I have claimed him, he is mine to protect. No one in the village will harm him, or I shall seek retribution. He is now safe.”

Fascinating system they had going. He wondered how well that worked. It still sounded like much of village life was centred around physical strength. Wasn’t as though he could fault the concept, not after having watched Tsukasa take down a lion bare handed. This new world was brutal.

“And where exactly are we going now?” Senku looked back in the direction of the village. He couldn’t enter, and therefore, he could not begin converting—er—no—okay, that sounded a little cultish—er—he couldn’t—um—er—convince—enlighten—ouch—no—um—none of these sounded good—fuck—fuck—fuck—

All he wanted was to share his knowledge with people, was that so bad?

“Dude, I am an arsehole.” He gave a small laugh.

Heh, at least he could acknowledge it.

“My hut!” Kohaku beamed. “I promised you a hut to rest in, didn’t I…and you do look very tired.”

Senku rubbed his neck. He was basically hanging by a thread. He hadn’t even processed the whole Tsukasa murder thing yet, and he knew, the moment he let himself have a moment to himself and think about it he’d fall into a bottomless pit.

Fear was waiting for him.

He didn’t want to stop.

Because that fear was creeping up.

Senku forced a smile. “Nah. I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe him, judging by the scoff he received.

“Hopefully we shall also find Chrome there.” Kohaku led them deeper into the forest, down a well-marked trail. Hiroto attempted valiantly to catch the colourful flags strung between the trees. Senku tipped his head back, admiring the way they were placed. It wasn’t done haphazardly. There was purpose, making him wonder if they were ceremonial or religious.

“Alright, you’ve piqued my interest…and just who is Chrome?”

For all he knew, he could have been her first husband or something. He had no idea what to expect from this little pocket society.

“Chrome is another one of my crib brothers.” Kohaku offered. “Like Kinro and Grino, but he was orphaned.”

“So, not related…” Senku mused. “But raised with you, okay, I’m kinda getting the picture.” He rubbed his chin. He’d once read something similar accruing in Old Norse societies, something about different types of fostering. Her immediate acceptance of him and Hiroto seemed a lot less confusing now, if it was an engrained part of their culture to foster orphans.

She led them into a small clearing amongst the forest. A large hut sat off to the side, a fire-pit in the centre, and several other huts were scattered about chaotically without much thought. Senku’s brow creased. This felt oddly like a spot where lepers would be tossed out into.

“Kohaku, what is this place?”

“This is for the excommunicated.” Kohaku glanced aside. “Those who are not yet Outcast, and still welcome in the village, but not welcome to build huts therein.”

“Ah, first level of punishment, heh.” Senku took his pack from her and set it down with a thump. “Can you earn your place back?”

“You can.” Kohaku nodded. “Chrome and I are currently the only two who dwell here…oh…actually, there is Suika, but I do not see her often.” Kohaku frowned. “She is a forest child, very wild. I cannot claim her. None can.”

“Dude, you really like claiming people.”

Oh—whoops—he said that out loud.

Kohaku threw him a smile.

He spammed the big red ignore button in his brain again. If there was one danger he knew to never getting science done, it was a pretty girl with a pretty smile and this girl was one hundred precent all that.

“Chrome!” Kohaku called out, spinning around happily. “Chrome! I’m back! Chrome! Come quick! I found a sorcerer on the mountain!”

Senku winced, sticking a finger in his ear to itch. “A scientist.” He insisted.

“Chrome!” Kohaku stamped her foot, growing annoying. “Gah. Where is he?”

“Who is Chrome?” Hiroto asked, tugging on Senku’s coat.

“Well, chrome is the chemical process of coating something in a thin chromium layer.” Senku held up a finger. “Or it is a web browser created by the overlording mega conglomerate known as Alphabet Inc. which runs Google. Pick your poison.”

“You’re weird.” Hiroto blew a rasp.

“I am aware.” Senku grinned.

Kohaku slapped hands to her hips. “Chrome is our village sorcerer.”

“Why does he live out here?” Senku tossed a hand at the dilapidated huts that had seen better days.

“Father does not like him.” Kohaku puffed out her cheeks. “Chrome is smart.” She flung up her arms. “He’s probably out looking for herbs or rocks or bugs again.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy.” Senku chuckled as he sat himself down on a log by the fire pit, dragging over his leather bag. He idly pulled out his bar of soap, or as Taiju had so hilariously called it, the Doctor Stone.

“Want some bubbles, Hiroto?”

“Yeah!” Hiroto flung up his arms. “Bubbles!”

Dampening his hands, Senku scrubbed at the soap, clasped thumb and finger together and gently blew. Bubbles formed, dazzling in the afternoon sunlight like jewels.

Kohaku’s amazement was truly palatable, making his ears heat up again as she danced around with Hiroto, chasing after the bubbles. This—these simple, sweet little moments—was a gift that science could give.

Senku slowly lowered his hands, hearing crunching rocks behind him as someone approached. A young man of a rather ordinary build and unremarkable appearance swung himself over the log that Senku had sat himself down on.

“Cool trick.” The young man stated, pooping a bubble.

Senku placed the soap back in its protective beeswax casing. “You’ve seen this phenomenon, have you?”

“Sure, you can make these with some charcoal, ash and boiling water.” The young man placed down a basket of assorted herbs, smiling at the bobbing bubbles gliding through the afternoon breeze. “I’ve played around with this before to remove blood stains from our clothes.”

Senku’s brow lifted in surprise. Well—wasn’t that interesting. This guy had figured out how to make laundry cleaner from the potash of hardwood trees. He couldn’t help but smile.

From Kohaku’s little upward tilt of her chin, she was very pleased by his happy reaction.

By that deduction, Senku had to guess this young man was The Chrome. If Senku sort of squinted and cocked his head sideways to ignore the whole fact that they were in some wacky fantasy stone world scenario, he could totally see the guy as an average high schooler who’d have been in his science club. But then reality crashed down on him, and he was confronted with the whole shaman sorcerer garb that the guy was wearing, and he wanted to burst into hysterics.

He was—ah—really taking the whole ‘sorcerer’ thing to the extreme with the bone necklaces. What was he, some sort of accidental goth?

No.

Okay.

Senku—don’t be a fucking arsehole—don’t throw stones—

Er—

Maybe a bad expression for the situation.

Nala took that moment to leap out from the forest and rush at him. Senku almost ended up on his back at the sudden weight of the cub hitting him full throttle.

“Nala!” He wheezed. Her mouth came down around his shoulder in a playful manner. He knew it was playful because she wasn’t using her teeth, or her claws, otherwise, he would be very dead. Raising his arm he batted her aside, letting her know with a swat on the nose to back off, and raised himself up higher. She playfully bounced around him.

“That…that’s a lion cub!”

Senku looked up in surprise at the horrified cry.

Chrome was wrapped around Kohaku.

Senku’s hand twitched at the position of Chrome’s clinging hands. “Oie. Whimp.” He crouched and summoned Nala with a click of his tongue. She leapt onto him, smothering him and he heaved her up.

“She’s a lioness.”

“You’re…you’re holding her! How?!”

“Cause I’m the one who’s tamed her. Jeeze. Are you a moron?” Senku set Nala down, offering her a piece of sliced meat from his kit. He heard Kohaku’s sharp intake of breath. Ah. Funny. She finally picked up that the dried meat he’d offered her was the same he fed Nala. Hehe.

“You…you…” Kohaku puffed up in adorable indignation.

“Did I say something?” He innocently flipped his hands out in a teasing fashion.

Kohaku’s cheeks burned red. Ah. There. That was much better. Way better than his ears going red. Kohaku stomped up to him and he was pressed back against a tree as she leaned her full presence down against him.

“You are very annoying.”

“Oh, I am very aware.” He raised his hands to her shoulders, easing her to the side so he could slip around her. She was very—very comfortable to be up against, and that continued to be extremely alarming to his poor frazzled nerves.

Kohaku scoffed, folding her arms stoutly. “Chrome, this is Senku, Senku…this is Chrome, our sorcerer.”

Senku looked back at the young man who was no longer transfixed on Nala, but instead, was staring at the two of them in confusion. “Ah, Kohaku…er…please tell me…”

“I have claimed him.” Kohaku raised her chin.

Senku nursed his head. He really needed to find out what that actually meant, because if it meant what he thought it meant, he was in deep—deep water—and looking at the warrior goddess beside him, he wasn’t sure if he should paddle away or let himself drown.

Chrome slapped his face. “Oh…Kohaku…”

“He is a great sorcerer, Chrome!” Kohaku insisted. “I found him taming the mountain, just as he has tamed the lioness cub.”

“Not a sorcerer, a scientist.” Senku insisted.

Kohaku waved at him in a flicking motion. He slapped at her hand, making her smirk. Yeah. Yeah—well—two could play at that game. He smirked back.

“Don’t be fooled by an Outsider’s cheap tricks, Kohaku.” Chrome shook his head. “I know you’re desperate, so am I…but…we can’t—”

“So, explain to me what makes you a sorcerer?” Senku cocked his head at Chrome and twirled his hand around. “Show me.”

“Why should I show you anything, Outsider.” Chrome took great offense.

“Cause I need to establish what level of knowledge I’m dealing with here, and what makes you…” he stepped forward, thrusting a finger against Chrome’s chest. “The Sorcerer.”

“What level…what you’re dealing with?” Chrome breathed in sharply. “I’ll have you know I am a brilliant sorcerer.”

“Er. Not doubting that.” Senku shrugged lazily. He jutted a thumb at Kohaku. “You’ve been patching up her wounds for years, I’ll give you some extra credit points for that.” He gave a mock clap.

Kohaku shook her head. “Are you always this evil?”

He tipped back, grinning at her. “Yep.”

Oh, she liked it. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one struggling to control the emotional trigger that caused blushing.

“Fine.” Chrome raised his chin. “I’ll prove to you that I am the greatest sorcerer! That I have tamed the flames that give us warmth.”

“Whoooo, yeah, bet this’ll be good.” Senku urged Hiroto behind him as Chrome headed for the fire-pit. “Remember the gunpowder,” he whispered. “Fire is dangerous.”

Hiroto nodded. “I know. You’re the idiot.”

Heh. What? Oh, right, the time he almost burnt their apartment complex down by overloading the power relay—oh—maybe that other time he almost burnt down the apartment complex when he’d left a burner going—or—or that time he’d overheated sugar in the microwave and almost killed himself with a hot liquid death.

“Well, I’m glad you’re now aware from my mistakes.” Senku muttered drily.

From his belt, Chrome pulled out a handful of powder. He raised his hands above the fire-pit. “Behold! My Rainbow Bridge!”

He cast the powder into the fire. It hissed and crackled, turning a deeper yellow as it flared. Behind them, Senku heard Kohaku give an encouraging clap.  That was adorable. She was adorable.

In quick succession Chrome flung another powder in, turning the flames blue and then purple. He raised his chin proudly. “I have mastered the flames!”

Ah.

Yeah…totally, mastered them. Yep. Wow. Amazing.

Senku motioned to Hiroto. “Explain to the sorcerer what just happened.”

Hiroto pouted. “Um…it was…it was a flame test, yes?”

Senku nodded. “That’s right, well done!” Senku ruffled Hiroto’s hair. He looked back at the confused Chrome on the other side of the fire-pit. “Your Rainbow Bridge is a basic flame test. You threw slat, copper and some sulfur into the fire…in that order.” He tipped his head to the side. “So…the copper…is it copper sulfate?”

Wait—

No—

He wouldn’t understand that.

“Did you use some blue crystal?” Senku tapped the hard ground beneath them. “Maybe you found them in the caves around here?”

“How did you…” Chrome spluttered.

He kind of looked like he was about to crap his pants at how horrified he was by the realisation that some else knew about blue crystals and their ability to alter fire.

Hiroto shuffled, “Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry! Senku is mean!”

“Hey.” Senku protested.

Chrome breathed in deeply, and nodded stoutly before stiffly walking straight for one of the larger huts on silts, vanishing into it. Senku bent around to catch Kohaku’s gaze.

“Is he always like this? So…er…enthusiastic…”

Kohaku shrugged. “Yep.”

Chrome reappeared, rubbing a sphere furiously. He held out a finger to Kohaku and Senku laughed in delight as she squeaked, bouncing back in alarm at the static charge.

Chrome held it up. “A weapon that can defeat even Kohaku!”

“Ah, nah, that’s a sulfur ball.” Senku snatched it from him. “You took some of the same stuff you threw on the fire earlier, and put it in an urn. You melted it down, let it cool and harden, and then broke the urn around it. Neat way to make one of these!” Senku twirled the ball around before holding it out to Hiroto to view. “The sulfur ball generator. It was originally invented back in the seventeenth century.”

“Whooooo.” Hiroto bounced, clapping in excitement. “Wow!”

Senku handed Hiroto the ball and headed to his pack. “You know, Chrome, I’m starting to get pretty excited about you.” He tugged out the sheeting of leather Yuzuriha had given him, retaking the ball from Hiroto to combine the two.

“This is pretty cool. It’ll work better if you rub it with some leather to get the friction up though.” He dropped the ball into the leather and began scrubbing vigorously, cackling as his hair fuzzed. He slapped a hand down on Chrome’s arm and watched as the young man leapt away in shock.

He tossed it to Kohaku and she squeaked in surprise at the electric buzz that rushed through her, causing her hair to puff up in a mane. Her laughter was a delight. Hiroto squealed as he flung his arms around Kohaku’s legs. “Me! Me! Me! I wanna feel fuzzy!”

Oh—

What he would have given for a camera. “Feels like I’m watching baby’s first science class…” Senku whispered.

But was that just it though? It was impressive that this guy had discovered so much on his own, without any instruction. Senku ambled towards the main hut, raised on stilts and hoisted himself up the ladder.

“No! No! Wait, you can’t go in there.” Chrome called out.

Senku shoved open the door, peering in. A storage hut, full of treasure—oh—so much treasure. His heartbeat quickened. Here it was, proof that Tsukasa’s ideology was abysmal at the core. Science would always find a way. The shiny monkeys would create their technological civilization. He swung himself down the ladder. “You thought of all this yourself?” Senku approached Chrome, “You’ve collected all this shite on your own?”

“Of course.” It was a frustrated tone he received, one that sounded tired of having to explain himself. “Isn’t it normal for kids to collect things, and smash things together, and try and see—”

“Hey, you don’t need to prove anything to me.” Senku offered. “I get you.”

Chrome intoned heavily. “Who are you?”

“I’m a scientist.” Senku stuck a finger in his ear.

“Sorcerer!” Kohaku called out.

“Fuck off!” Senku stamped his foot down. Damn it. She was doing it on purpose now. Shite.

“You haven’t proven anything to me.” Chrome thrust a finger against his chest. “One more battle.”

“Fine.” Senku shrugged. “Whatever you choose, but, be careful. If I win, I get that hut and all its treasure for my Kingdom of Science.”

“What, no.” Chrome protested.

“If you win,” Senku spread his hands. “You can keep me, or order me to do whatever you want.”

“Okay. Fine.” Chrome grinned.

“What, no!” Kohaku stormed up to them.

Chrome tossed out his hands, ignoring Kohaku. “You’ll leave here and never come back.”

“Whatever.” Senku shrugged.

“I said no.” Kohaku snapped. “Why are neither of you listening to me.”

“I am.” Senku assured, looking directly at her and her heated cheeks. “Why are you worried I’d ever loose when it comes to science.”

Her brow furrowed. “Oh…”

Senku flicked back a strand of her hair. “Stupid.”

Chrome stepped between them. “I challenge you to arithmetic!” He looked so hilariously proud of himself in that moment, and that—that sealed his fate.

“Arithmetic, heh?” Senku chuckled. “Keh. Nah. You know what, how about Hiroto takes this round. Hiroto!” Senku clapped his hands. “Come do some basic mathematics with the ‘sorcerer’ and win me that cool hut over there full of treasure!” 

Hiroto bounced up from where he sat cuddling Nala. “Yay! Math! Math! Math!”

Kohaku’s glare was hot. He tapped her forehead. “Will you chill.”

“You are mine.” Kohaku hissed. “Not Chromes.”

“I said chill.” He directed Hiroto over to Chrome, crouching down as he placed his hand on Hiroto’s shoulders. Senku grinned up at Chrome.

“Can you beat a child?”

“Is this a joke?” Chrome spluttered. “He’s a child. I will totally win.”

“Then prove it.” Senku grinned.

What commenced had to have been the most hilarious ten minutes of basic mathematics Senku had ever witnessed. Poor Hiroto was very confused and Chrome just ended up a puddle of limp arms and legs on the ground. Rather looked a bit like Taiju after a math exam.

Kohaku sighed, looking over at Senku. “That was mean.”

“And you doubted me?”

Her lips threaded into a thin line. “I do not appreciate having my opinion ignored.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate being considered property.” He retorted.

Her brow creased in confusion. “That is not what you are…that’s…not what it means…” she finished with a whisper.

“Good, glad we’ve established that.” He clapped his hands. “Brillant job, Hiroto!”

“Yay!” Hiroto bounced. “I won!”

Kohaku nudged Chrome gently with her foot. “I think you broke him.”

“He broke himself by challenging an eight-year-old genius to arithmetic. Hiroto was sitting in on university grade lectures back in my time. He doesn’t…hm…he doesn’t understand the concept of mathematics when applied to the world,” Senku spread his hands to encompass everything around them, “because he’s just a kid, but give him equations and numbers and he’s like a computer.”

Senku crouched beside Chrome, poking him with a stick. “Still, I’m impressed, for someone who is obviously self-taught, you’ve done incredible.”

“I lost…” Chrome mumbled.

“No.” Senku clapped Chrome’s back. “You’ve gained so much! Together, we’re going to build a kingdom of science! Congratulations, ding, ding, welcome to my convent.” He winked playfully at Kohaku.

She rolled her eyes. “We have no idea what you’re saying.”

“But you want me to keep talking.” He teased.

The way her eyes narrowed in on him with all the gluttonousness of a predator told him she could totally make him shut up if she wanted too, and he was sorely tempted to make her try it.

Chrome dragged himself up, propping his chin on his folded arms. He looked over at Hiroto with a curious frown, then over at Senku. “Are you guys fallen stars?”

Okay, that was the second time that had come up.

“It’s said fallen stars know lots of amazing things.” Kohaku offered, as if that was supposed to help explain to him anything about them.

“Yeah, they had to have been sorcerers. Super bad, powerful sorcerers.”

Senku sighed. “Well, I don’t know about any fallen stars, but, nope…I’m neither a fallen star, nor a sorcerer…I’m a scientist, from the twenty-first century.”

He eased back onto his feet and headed for one of the nearby stone statues, sitting forlorn and alone in the shade of a large tree. He could imagine they’d been on a picnic or something with their family. Carefully he brushed the old moss and vines off the—woman’s—face. “What do your people say about these?”

“The Captured Ones?” Chrome shared a pensive look with Kohaku. “There is a Hundred Tales about them, but it is pretty wild! It’s used to scare kids into bed.” Chrome wiggled his fingers in the air at Hiroto. “If you don’t do what you’re told, the green light will flash, flash, flash and capture you forever!”

Hiroto gasped and dived for Kohaku, huddling into her legs. “No. I’m scared. The darkness was scary. I don’t want to go back!”

Kohaku frowned in concern and Senku was sure from her piercing look he was going be drilled about that at some point. She seemed the sort to not let something go, especially if a child was involved.

Senku tapped the forehead of the statue beside him. “I’m about to rock your world, Chrome, because my little brother and I are former Captured Ones. We broke free of the stone.”

Chrome’s shoulders picked up, and if thrill had the ability to make someone float, then he would have been floating. “No way! That’s radical.”

Radical – what – how the fuck was that a word in their vocabulary? That was such a random English word. Just who were these people, and where had they spawned from?

Well, he knew where he’d spawned from. “Hiroto and I, we’re from three thousand seven hundred years ago, when the world was very…very…different and science had conquered even the Moon.”

He looked up at the lunar disk, low in the afternoon sky.

Weird, how it still called for him, even now.

In the future that felt like the ancient past.

Chapter Text

After Hiroto had Nala smother Chrome a few times, causing a great amount of jealousy from Kohaku, Chrome emerged from his stupor at losing and a glean of curiosity warmed his features. That—right there—Senku felt a spark of kinship, that was the look of a science nerd. He knew it anywhere. It was fantastic to see it had survived time itself.  

“So…is all this…” Senku motioned at Chrome’s sorcerer get up, “cosplay or something?”

“Cosplay?” Chrome frowned at the foreign word.

“Short for costume play. Dressup? Imaginary play. Do you seriously walk around rattling with bones and shiny rocks.”

“Oh. Yeah. I do.” Chrome beamed proudly, spinning around to make his cloak float and rattle about. “It totally keeps Magma and his goons away from us.” Chrome offered, glancing briefly in Kohaku’s direction. “He honestly thinks I’m capable of conjuring lightning from my fingertips.”

Senku gave a small snort of amusement. “Sith Lord you are not.”

He glanced around the small camp. Yeah. Okay. He could work with this. Sure, the place needed a lot of work, but that’d be fine—Kohaku seemed more then capable of handling herself, and he’d figure out a way to entice more of the villages into his—er—

Kingdom of Science. Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

He headed up the ladder of the main storage hut and swung himself into it, peering around in awe at the marvellous collection that he—er—Hiroto—had won. He could smell them, the herbs and spices, they tickled his nose. He hadn’t really had this odd hypnotic sensation since he’d walked the long, foreboding corridors of the hospital. Slowly he removed a woven lid covering one of the baskets.

Jasime tea leaves. Where had Chrome got these from—

Had the plantations in Okinawa spread out across Japan? That had to be what had occurred. He supposed he was going to be seeing a lot of that. Actually, it made him very curious as to what once domesticated animals roamed the now wilds, or had whole breeds died out because of how humans had developed cows, chickens and sheep for particular purposes.

Gosh—that didn’t even touch on pets—

His head hurt. He needed to focus away from the depressing reality of the situation.

Senku glanced back at Chrome, hesitantly hovering about by the doorway, shuffling on his feet.

“You’ve collected a lot of medicinal herbs, you realise that, right?”

It was like he was standing within a herbal medicine shop; it was brilliant.

“Oh, ah, yeah…” Chrome inched in. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been trying to find something that’d heal Ruri.”

“Ruri?”

“Kohaku’s sister.”

“Ah, the Priestess.” Senku tapped his chin.

Okay. He was starting to piece this together. Ruri was someone extremely important to both Kohaku and Chrome, not just as priestess of the village, and she was very sick. Not sick enough that she’d died immediately, but sick. Still, he needed more information. So lame that he couldn’t go and see her himself.

“Can you describe her symptoms to me?”

“Symptoms?” Chrome frowned, mouthing the unfamiliar word.

“How would you describe the illness, what features does it have? Say, if you had a stomach issue, the symptoms would be vomiting, diarrhea, dehydration and fever.” Senku ticked off his fingers. “Does that make sense.”

Chrome nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I get it.” He began pacing. “She’s weak. Physically weak. She gets all sweaty and hot, but her skin is cold.”

“That’s fever.”

“She never eats much. Her chest hurts, and her breathing is all…ah…fast…and shallow, and she coughs up sticky stuff and blood.”

Senku frowned.

Aw shite. He pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed.

“It’s not good.” Chrome worried.

“Sounds respiratory.” He tipped his head back. She’d survived this long, so that was interesting.

“She’s been getting worse.” Chrome’s shoulders deflated. “She’s not eating.”

Okay—that had to be addressed first.

“Do you know what she usually eats?”

“Well, the same as we all do I guess.”

“Do you have the option to get food to her?”

“No. I’m banned entirely from going near her.”

Heh. Rough.

“I’m not well liked.” Chrome rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, really.” Senku deadpanned. “I kinda noticed, with you being banished to the Shadow Realm and all.”

“Shadow Realm…” Chrome murmured.

Senku tapped his foot to the floor, listening to the hollow echo. “Could Kohaku get food to her?”

“Oh, I suppose so. Kohaku gets away with things a bit more because, well, she’s Ruri’s sister and Jasper was her teacher…but…the chief…” Chrome seemed to deflate. “He’s…yeah…he wasn’t always how he is now, he was an amazing guy, I mean, he took me in when my parents died.”

Senku swallowed.

Chrome eased down on one of the large pots, folding his shaking hands uncomfortably. “Everything changed after the last Grand Bout and Kohaku won again, but she barely won…”

Senku winced. Right. He was talking about that severe scar from her hip to beneath her breasts. It almost looked like she’d dodged being cleaved right in half, and the thought chilled him. This—this was brutal—and real—and—he—he was way over his head.

“I thought she’d die.” Chrome sagged. “She didn’t wake for days. I did everything I could.”

“You did really well.” Senku offered. “You saved her life.”

Chrome rubbed at his damp eyes. Senku had to wonder if this was the first time anyone had ever told the poor guy that his hard work was actually worth something.

“By the time Kohaku could move again, which was about a month. It was to late. Without Kohaku in the chief’s Hut, Mantle had made his move…the Chief gave her a choice to marry Magma or be excommunicated…” Chrome sighed.

Ah. So, she’d obviously chosen the excommunication.

“Sounds like some real Wormtounge shite.” Senku mumbled to himself. What was he, Gandalf the White, come to save a king—he gave a small huff at the funny picture of himself actually wearing wizard robes.

Chrome stood in a panic. “Wormtongue, is that some kind of sickness?”

“Eh, oh, no…” Senku cracked a grin. “Remind me to recount a story to you guys, you apparently like oral stories, right? I got like…a whole fucking library in my head that I need to keep alive.” Senku tapped his temple. “Kohaku mentioned it’s possible to earn your place back into village life after excommunication, so, did her father give her a pathway to redemption?”

Chrome’s brow lifted. “Yeah, but it’s impossible.”

“What is it?”

“Find a husband more fit to be chief than Magma.” Kohaku poked her head up over the door’s threshold. Senku approached, offering her a hand. She took it and let him guide her slowly into the hut. She gave her thighs a little slap to remove dirt from the skirt of her wrap.

“Heh, well, that sounds like something way out of my area of expertise.” Senku muttered. “I do try to stay as far away from politics and domestics as I can.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Kohaku playfully ribbed.

“Oh, super.” He drawled, tipping his head in her direction sardonically.

“So, what…what do we do?” Chrome asked.

“We’ll solve this all with science, obviously.” Senku leant on the doorframe, looking out at the soft sunset. Kohaku joined him and he flicked his gaze at her as she propped her hip up against the wooden edge. She was just raw brokenness, her shoulders sagged with heavy defeat.

“Can you…can you save her, my sister?” Kohaku whispered.

“Nothing is ever assured.” Senku looked to the darkening sky. “But I promise that I will do everything I can.”

She breathed in and gave a small nod.

“That’s enough.” Her smile made his chest tighten, for nothing could compare. And he knew—he knew, despite all his posturing of its impossibility, that a colliding of two stars had happened—and now he would spend his lifetime captured in the orbit of that soft smile.

000000

As twilight fell, Kohaku led him to the hut she’d promised. Senku carried a floppy, sleeping Hiroto in his arms and Nala trotted beside him while he followed Kohaku and the glow of her lantern. Her hut was a little past several of the others in the empty, dilapidated camp—why she couldn’t have used one of those already built, he had no idea—he presumed it was some sort of tradition thing. When she finally paused in front of something, he had to do a double-take.

Er—

Technically it was a hut, however, it was also an abomination to mankind. The notion that it was still standing was nothing sort of a miracle. He was such an arsehole, because the warrior goddess beside him was so proud of her accomplishment, and so eager to share it with him that she was practically buzzing.

Er. Shite. He was supposed to say something, right?

“You obviously put a lot of work into it.” He offered.

Kohaku nodded. “I did.” A hand went to her hip, the lantern she carried jostled. “After you pass the trial of maturity, you are then permitted to prove that you capable of protecting what you claim…” she motioned to the hut. “You do so by building a hut to show you can provide and protect.”

Wow. These people were so legit with their traditions. Though, he supposed they’d have had to have been strict, considering the circumstances that could arise within such a small, tight community.

He really wanted to ask her about this whole claiming business, but he was in no condition for a solid conversation. It was a good thing he was so exhausted, it meant he could keep avoiding that creeping fear, the feeling of not breathing, of bones crunching, and Tsukasa’s murderous gaze. Would he find safety here?

This ‘hut’ didn’t look like it could provide protection for anyone, considering it was basically a few bamboo planks and some leather hides strung up together. His expression must have been pensive, because Kohaku was suddenly deflating, her usual proud, open vigour just seeping out of her.

“You do not like it?” Kohaku whispered, shuffling her foot in the dirt.

Senku blinked. He could feel the tingling rush of heat flood his body, the panicked response swamping him at the sight of her sad expression. Why did it feel like she’d made this fucking hut for him.

Damnit.

Okay. He had to ignore his hot ears. Just—ignore—hot—ears. They were only a bodily response. He was a totally rational person who could work around such frivolous things. He could do this.

“No, I think you’ve done good.” He assured. “You’ve put down the skeleton of a house.”

Kohaku’s shoulders picked up a little as he stepped forward, taking her roughened hand and netting their fingers together.

“But now, let’s make it into a home…together.” He grinned at the cheesiness that Byakuya would have been truly proud of. Who would have thought that having that cocky, flamboyant old-man as his father would actually be a total cheat-code for a solid establishment of inter-personal human-relations.

Dude.

Bonus points.

0000

Exhaustion had overwhelmed Senku the moment he’d tucked himself up beside Hiroto within the offered bedding of the hut. He supposed he could be grateful right now that physical activity basically knocked him out, it meant he didn’t have a chance to fixate. He woke with the dawn and the birds, loud and so vibrant. There was a different set of bird songs near a lake than there had been deep in the forest, and he supposed he was going to have to get used to their choruses again. Senku eased himself up, wincing in pain. What he wouldn’t give for some paracetamol. He was totally raiding Chrome’s supplies and making himself some hot ginger tea. Senku picked at the straw mat that had been the bed. He’d need to make a better cot with cushioning and maybe some suspension, or he was going to ruin his back.

Damn.

His list of things to do was huge. It—it—it—probably wasn’t going to cease. End. No. No. Fine. That was fine. He needed the momentum. Anything to stop spiralling into the numbers.

The pressure in his head twisted like two vices, squeezing. The thundering sound of his heart racing roared in his ears. Pressure. Senku curled over, fiercely biting into his bottom lip to trigger the sharp pain. Oh, shite. This wasn’t happening. Please. No. He hadn’t had a panic attack in years, and now none of his pillars were nearby.

Byakuya.

Taiju.

Yuzuriha

Tsukasa’s vacant eyes, void of any emotion, made his skin itch and burn. His throat constricted. Senku clutched his arms tightener around his knees as he inhaled with a frantic sharpness. The guy had actually done it—

Killed him.

With absolutely no hesitation in the swing.

Holy fucking shite.

This was real.

Okay.

Okay.

Let it go.

Fucking throw it into the void.

Be a void.

His eyes stung as salty tears gathered beneath his lids, and he let it go, let the tight ball of knotted up fear unravel and flush out of him in a chill, numbing his limbs, making him utterly exhausted at the emotional release. He was only really aware of the heat of his cheeks and the briny taste of tears as he floated in the void of empty, blank detachment.

Gradually though, awareness crept back, and with it came the warmth of a presence. Senku stirred. His hair was being gently brushed while a physical heat was pressed over him. At his rousing, Kohaku shuffled away, far enough that she removed herself from his personal sphere, but close enough to still be a comfort. He could appreciate the perceptiveness.

“Good morning,” he mumbled. He didn’t bother wiping off the dampness of tears. Who cared. It didn’t matter. Nothing ever really mattered.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked.

“I did, actually.” He propped his chin up on a palm.

“Do you…do you wish to speak on it?” Kohaku offered.

Senku tipped his head to the side, looking out the doorway to the sunrise tinting the sky. He still couldn’t get over how beautiful the vastness of this new world was, and here he was, awake in a crisp new dawn. Another day—another day where he was alive, breathing. His heart was beating. Another day in this crazy stone world.

Another day to be excited by the incredible possibilities.

That was what he had to focus on.

“I died.” He gave an uneasy breath. “And...my brain is struggling to process it.”

She shuffled a little closer. “When Magma wounded me at the last Grand Bout, Chrome thought I would die. I do not recall much, but I recall being frightened, which I had never been before.” She leant back. “Even though Kinro stayed with me often, I felt very alone. Apparently, I cried much.”

Senku leant on his arms. “And now?”

“Now?” Kohaku curled a fist and stabbed it into her palm. “I wish to get revenge and gut him.”

Senku chuckled, cocking his head to the side. Heh. She was adorable. “Sell tickets.” He muttered. “Make a fortune.”

She shuffled closer again. Two of her fingers brushed his hand. “You are not alone.”

Though everything about her was power and strength, there was a softness and curvature that eased that roughness. He simply wasn’t sure what it was, and not knowing, made him fascinated.

“Do not let yourself hold onto the fear.” She nodded solidly. “It will only grow needlessly.”

“I died.”

“I know.” She finally grasped his hand. “I saw you fall.”

He heaved out another unsteady breath. This emotional instability wasn’t good for him. But processing it now was better than not doing so, and allowing it to fester into something that’d continue to destabilize him. Risking a destabilization later simply wasn’t worth it. He had things to do—lots of things—

And he also—

He couldn’t—

He couldn’t risk Taiju and Yuzuriha.

They were relying on him. Trusting him.

Even knowing all that, changed nothing of the instability within him.

“I was so scared…” he whispered.

“You had every right to be.”

A lot of people considered him a genius—and perhaps yes, he fell into that category, but he’d never considered himself one. He’d always considered himself broken, his abnormality frustrating and limiting until he’d shifted his own mental barriers. But right now, without his supports—Taiju--Yuzuriha--Byakuya—

This felt oddly worse than when he’d even first awoken to this strange new world. “If I’d miscalculated…if I’d misjudged…I’d be dead. I’m not infallible. I’ve just force myself to be good at reading people.”

“I cannot claim to understand.” She took up his other hand, clasping them both tightly and holding them up between them in a link. “But I will never forget what I saw on that mountain. I saw you give your life for someone you love.”

“You give me far too much credit.” He drawled.

“You do not give yourself enough.” She mocked back.

Senku dipped his head down and took a solidifying breath. “Thank you.”

00000

Getting his bearings in a whole new place was annoying, but, thankfully Chrome’s hut of treasures was a brilliant way to get excited about the ordeal of settling into another environment. Kohaku had not shared their enthusiasm about the shiny rocks, and had decided that the icky and gross task of chopping wood was far more productive.

Ah. Ew. No. Physical labour. Gross.

Though—

Senku gave a tick of this tongue in annoyance at the tickling urge to go watch her swing a stone axe.

Thankfully, Hiroto was being a good distraction against the more primal part of his brain by pulling out rocks and holding them up to him to name, one by one.

“Malachite.” Senku idly quipped. "Chalcanthite, and…that’s corundum.”

“Ohhhh…” Hiroto twirled around happily, holding up the large rock. “Cor…dum…dum…dum!”

“No, corundum.” Senku grabbed his sibling by the head. “Say it properly, you little gremlin.”

Hiroto stuck out his tongue. “Corundum.”

“Thank you.” Senku released him.

“What’s this? It’s super shiny when you break it open.” Chrome offered one to him. Senku took it, flipping it back and forth. He gave a brilliant grin. “This is called galena. My friend, lead had been acquired.”

Chrome looked chuffed, rather liked he’d just won a participation award.

Senku chuckled, looking around the hut and it’s over a decade worth of hording. “You should be really proud yourself, it’s a great collection.”

Chrome shuffled uncomfortably. “Thanks…”

“And you are hundred percent the sort of person that Tsukasa would kill.” Senku shook his head.

“Who is Tsukasa?” Chrome asked.

Senku made a quick, mad dash for Hiroto before the little brat high-tailed it out the door and down the ladder headfirst. He grabbed Hiroto under the arms and helped him down, watching him sprint off happily across the camp towards Kohaku. Even though she had no interest in the shiny schist the kid held, she put all her attention on him, at least pretending to find the rock fascinating. Heh. Kids. They got away with so much. She was really good with him. He didn’t know why that settled some weird frantic nerve in him. It was a curious thing he’d have to think on and unpack when he had a moment to think again—most likely in the early morning hours.

Senku looked back at Chrome. “Tsukasa…er…well… he’s a scary megalomaniac who wants to adhere to the lacklustre concept of humans-bad, humans-evil, humans-fuck-shite-up.” Senku began picking up the rocks Hiroto had tossed about like random toys, replacing them in their correct spots. “Which I agree too, sure, we have a tendency to lean into our lesser nature, but science lets us live above that…and…now I sound like a cult leader.” He laughed. “Science, the new religion.”  He twirled about, fanning out his hands playfully.

Chrome looked pensive. “What…what can we do to help Ruri?”

“Well, I’ve got a few ideas, but our first order of business is the most basic.” Senku offered. “Do you have access to fresh vegetables?”

“Oh…ah yeah, I can get some!”

“Neat.” Senku pointed to him. “Get whatever you can, we’ll use it.”

“Okay!” Chrome swung himself out the door and down the ladder. “On it!” He looked up at Senku. “Er. Where will you be?”

Senku tapped his chin. “Hm. Probably down at the lake somewhere, hunting.”

“Hunting?”

“Yep. Hunting.”

“Fishing? We have lots of fish.”

“No. Not fish.” Senku shook his head. “I have something else in mind.”

000000

It was the oddest thing. Hiroto had never really helped Taiju with the physical tasks around the camp, and now, watching Hiroto happily trot along behind Kohaku as she carried split wood to the wood pile, carrying several little pieces of his own, he wondered if it was more to do with Taiju’s tendency to mother-hen the two of them.

Afterall—

Well—

Taiju knew them both from the time before.

Taiju knew how difficult life had been, how ill any physical activity could make either one of them. Taiju had made it his goal in life to protect in his own way, and Senku wasn’t ungrateful for it, it had meant everything to him to have Taiju catch him when he fell.

But it was strange, to realise, watching Hiroto now, happily carrying the logs and proudly adding them to the pile—was Hiroto—

Was Hiroto going to be completely different than him?

Well, of course—

Wasn’t like they were fucking clones.

But—

But—

This was a whole new world. Hiroto’s memories of Tokyo would someday fade, and this vast forest would become the normality.

Senku scrubbed at his hair. “This is weird.” He sighed, looking at the sky. “Dad…I’m not you.”

No one is asking you to be.

 He breathed out. Byakuya. To still hear the echo of his voice.

Senku gave a nod. Right. Yeah. Okay. Time to stop moping. He had things to do. A kingdom to build. He was Ishigami Senku, son of Ishigami Byakuya—the most annoyingly brilliant man ever, he’d be damned if he didn’t live up to the name.

“Hiroto!” Senku called out.

Hiroto flung up his arms and squealed in happiness, running towards him. “Senku! Guess what, Kohaku let me chop wood!”

“Wow.” Senku crouched down, pinching Hiroto’s arms. “Look, I see muscle.”

Hiroto slapped his arms. “Really! Am I strong like Taiju!”

Senku rubbed their noses together. “You have the heart of a great brave bear.”

Hiroto bounced around. “Taiju! Taiju! Taiju!”

“And I need your help with something.” Senku clapped his hands, getting Hiroto’s attention. “We need to go hunting for ducks.”

And there went all the bravery and valour immediately. “Ducks?” Hiroto gasped. “You want me to hurt duckies!?”

“Yep.”

“But they’re duckies.” Hiroto’s voice pitched.

“Dad had this soft duck soup he’d make me when I was really sick…this was before you were born.” Senku mused. “I want to see if I can make it for Kohaku’s sister.”

“But duckies.” Hiroto’s lip wobbled.

Senku sighed. They’d had this same problem with rabbits until Hiroto had adapted to the concept. Humans were murder machines, until something cute was presented to them. Babies. Kittens. Puppies. Ducks.

Maybe he hadn’t been cute enough that that’s why Tsukasa had murdered him.

He snorted in amusement at the thought.

“Alright, we’ll do it together.” He offered.

Hiroto thought about it, rubbing his chin in a pensive action that made Senku a little self-conscious, as, he was rather sure it was a mimicking of an action he performed when he was contemplating something.

Finally, his little brother gave a firm nod and looked up at him. “Okay.”

000000

Hiroto had been interested in duck hunting for all of about ten seconds and then he’d become distracted by hunting for pirate treasure in the shallows of the lake. Not having the heart to force him into murdering duckies, Senku let him go.

“I suppose I should be glad he’s not jumping at the chance to kill things.” Senku mused.

“And how exactly are you going to be hunting ducks without a bow and arrows?” Kohaku quired. She’d followed them down to the lake shore, which was more like a beach where the mouth of one of the rivers fed into the lake and the high rocky cliffs narrowed down into shallows that one could explore. Her presence was rather reassuring, considering she most likely knew the area and Senku felt completely lost already.

He looked back at her, peering out from under his cone hat.

“I was wondering if you guys had archers.” He sorted through his collection of stones in his pouch. “I’m not sure how good I’d be with a bow, with my strength stat being as low as it is. Which is why I choose the sling.” He fitted the smooth rock into the sling and twirled the weapon. It a split second, it loosened, cracked, and a duck minding its own business amongst the nearby reeds keeled over. Senku wadded his way

through the water, folding his hands together momentarily in a small offering, before he collected the duck into a leather bag.

“That was amazing.” Kohaku startled him.  Oh—she was still following him. She needed a bell.

“Really? Heh. It’s honestly just maths.” He shrugged. “If you get all the equations right, you’re guaranteed a hit.” He flashed a grin. “I’d suck in an actual fight situation. Too much thinking.”

“Ah…” Kohaku bounced down the rocks to join him. “You obviously didn’t see yourself from my perspective the other day with Ginro.”

“Ginro? Who’s Ginro again?” Senku sorted through his pouch of rocks, finding another and slotting it into his sling. He searched the shallows and the reeds, scanning for another target. Ah—there—

“Ginro was the brother with blond hair…hang on…you know who I’m talking about, don’t you.”

Senku flashed her a smile. “Of course I do.”

“Why do you do that? Why do you make yourself out to be an idiot.”

“Habit.” Senku shrugged. “When I was a kid, I had this tendency to assume conversations.” He motioned Kohaku back and twirled the sling, loosening it with a snap. The duck in the shallows faltered and several others burst into the air at the disturbance. Senku clicked his tongue in victory. He sloshed his way through the sandbank and Kohaku followed along, balancing on stones.

“My mind runs fast, and I struggled for a long time not to finish people’s sentences for them, or interject with what I assumed was the information they wanted. This stilted conversation. People wouldn’t talk to me.” Senku picked up the duck, adding it to his bag. “I became very frustrated. Thus, for the sake of desiring good conversation, I adapted.”

Kohaku took the leather bag from him. “You can be yourself around me, you know that, right?”

Senku smiled at her offer. “You’re getting more of me than most people do. Don’t be greedy, Lioness.”

She tossed him a cutting look that gave him a happy little skip as he followed her back to the beach of the lake where their little collection of gear sat. He thumped himself down on a straw mat, heaving a sigh as he rubbed at his aching shoulders.

It looked like Chrome had finished the task he’d given him and had now rejoined them, or, had joined Hiroto at least. The two were happy searching for rocks in the shallows, both completely absorbed in the little treasure hunt.

“I’m gathering Chrome hasn’t had many people to talk to.” Senku sipped water from his bamboo canteen.

Kohaku eased down beside him. “No. Not many in the village tolerate him. He’s always trying to figure out a new and better way to do something, and people prefer…”

“Things to remain stable and safe and the same.” Senku offered. “Change is hard to implement. Humans are creatures of habit, we like the mundane, as it makes us feel secure.” He idly plucked at the leave of the mulberry they were sitting beneath. Heh. It was a paper mulberry. Guess they’d spread out from the plantations over the centuries—

Wait—

He reached for a shredding of bark, tearing it off the tree, rubbing it between his fingers, feeling the fibrous texture. “Paper…” he whispered. If he had access to kozo bark—no—he needed something else to make up the rest of the pulp. Think. Think.

His toes curled against the mat he sat on and a smile snaked across his lips.

Silvergrass. Of course. It was had gone wild and crazy along the shoreline of the lake. Soil damp enough to flourish but not too soggy. Senku’s chest tightened in excitement. He heaved himself up. Kohaku looked to him in surprise as he tapped her lightly on the back.

“Come on, help me with this would you.” He took out another leather sack from his gear.

“What are we doing?”

“I need to collect as much silvergrass and paper mulberry as I can.”

“Are we making mats?” Kohaku motioned to the mat she’d laid out for them to sit on.

“Hm. Not mats…no…” he shook his head as he stole one of her blades from their sheathing on her back and began slicing through the tall stalks of grass. He bounced on his toes. Yeah. This was going to be fantastic. Chrome was going to love this as his first ever science project.

00000

Making a basic duck soup required roasting a duck carcass, smoking and preserving the other ducks and then, after the carcass was done roasting for an hour, creating a useable stock—which took at least a solid six to eight hours of simmering with the chopped-up vegetables (because he was a lazy-arse and preferred to dump everything in at once). It was rather comforting having the delightful aroma of smoking ducks scenting the camp. Senku scrapped a layer of brine off the boiling duck stock.

On the other side of the fire-pit Chrome was stirring the boiling pots of silvergrass storks and strings of mulberry bark. Senku dropped the clay lid of the pot back onto the stock and headed around the fire-pit, crouching by his equipment to sort through his kit. Ah—there—he tugged out a small clay container of white powder, handing it off to Chrome.

 “Add a handful of that too each pot will you—but not the soup.” Senku cracked a laugh. “Fucking ruin the soup.”

“What is it?” Chrome asked curiously.

“It’s sodium carbonate, otherwise known as soda ash. It’s made from seaweed.”

“Um. What exactly are we doing?”

Senku sat himself down on a log, dragging over some sticks and strips of leather. “We are going to make paper! Get excited!”

“Paper!” Hiroto burst out, practically flying into the air in a leap. “We made paper with Dad!”

Senku smiled as he lashed the sticks together into a rectangle. Good. He had a base to start a weave. “That’s right. Paper is a good first science step for Chrome here to begin with.”

“I have no idea what paper is, but it sounds bad.” Chrome splashed soda ash into one of the pots.

Senku arched an eyebrow. Their language was such a jumble. He was lucky he had good auditable processing, or this would have been a nightmare.

“Basically, we’re breaking the plants down by boiling them, bringing out the fibrious texture. You want long fibre plants for handmade paper like this. Then, we’ll beat the shite of them…or…ahh…the Lioness will.” He grinned as he happily weaved. “Then we’ll press the sludge into sheets.”

Chrome sat back down beside him. “What is paper used for?”

“It has many uses, but…its main use is to record the information that we have up here.” Senku tapped Chrome’s forehead. “I noticed yesterday during your little arithmetic game with Hiroto that you are using slates and charcoal.”

“Not many know how to write.” Chrome ruffled around in the kit strung around his waist, pulling out a slate, around the size of what would have once been a small portable laptop. “I was pretty lucky, I picked it up real easy from one of the artisans in the village. Kohaku still struggles with it. Kinro is hopeless. Ginro’s a little better. But none of them practice with me.” Chrome sighed and looked up at the sky longingly. “I wanted to write down the Hundred Tales one day.”

Senku smiled. So, Chrome had already had that thought—that was good.

“Well, stone is technically more durable than paper.” Senku tipped to the side playfully. “I wonder if somewhere out there in the world…maybe in Switzerland, it’s always Switzerland in the stories…if there is a sealed underground bunker that some rich arsehole kept all the precious books of the world in.” He wiggled his feet happily. Oh—that made him want to explore! The possibilities!

“However, the oral tradition that your people have has been a method that humans have used for centuries to tell history through generations. For example…” Senku finished the weave and moved to another set of sticks, binding them up into a rectangle and starting another interlacing net to make a paper-press. “Back in my era, a lot of cultures around the world had a really similar story about this global flood, and it was contested amongst folk about it being global or local…which to me, was always beside the point.” Senku eased his work down, watching Hiroto and Nala chasing each other around the camp. “It was the fact the story had even survived to be told at all that was so marvellous to me.” He looked back at Chrome. “It meant that humans had sat around telling that story, over, and over, until it spread across the whole world…and it became engrained into the very essence of human history itself. That…that is exciting.”

Chrome’s brow compressed. “But…but we’ve lost it…all of it.”

“No you haven’t.” Senku reached up and tapped his temple. “It’s all still here…and…” he placed a hand on Chrome’s chest. “In here. As long as you have the tenacity to reach for the unknown, you’ll keep the flame of humanity alive.”

Chrome stood sharply. “Tell me everything!”

Senku arched an eyebrow up at the young man.

“Please, Senku!” Chrome flopped his arms around. “Please!”

“You sure…it’s a lot to take in.” Senku mused. “You might not even understand a lot of what I talk about.”

“I don’t care. I need to know, I need to know what happened to the world you came from. Even just…the basics. Please!”

 Senku stood, picking up a paddle, he idly stirred the pots of simmering silvergrass and mulberry. “Okay…well…it’s not like we’re short on time.” He chuckled. “We have a good eight hours to waste.”

Chrome nodded, hands clutching tightly to his sides.

He started at what he did know, about the green light that had enveloped the world, turning everyone to stone, and expanded outward from there. The vastness of concrete and metal cities that housed millions, the gleaning lights that could be seen from space, vast ocean liners that carried materials from continent to continent, aeroplanes, cars and bicycles, the splendour of the Hadron Collider and Nuclear Reactors—

It took him hours to break down the world-that-once-was, and Chrome absorbed all of it, like a sponge. Eventually, it was more his voice that gave way that his desire to stop—if he kept speaking—it almost felt like he could see it all clearer, it was just within reach, that mirage of Tokyo’s beautiful skyline.

He took a shuddered breath and held out his hand.

“We made it to the Moon with less powerful computers than the most basic smartphone. It’s a fucking insult to my generation that we never got another moon landing.” Senku bemoaned. “No, actually, it’s an insult to my Dads generation. He should have been on the moon at twenty, and at forty, on Mars. I should have been planning fucking off-world habitation…” He bent his head back, heaving a sigh.

He supposed—

A civilization creation game was similar. Right?

“We made things that can fly?” Chrome whispered. “Fly out beyond the sky? Into the stars?”

Senku looked back at Chrome, whose gaze was lost up at the sparkling afternoon skyline filtering through the dense foliage of the trees that surrounded the huts.

“Yeah. Yeah we did.” Senku nodded.

It was still just as amazing to think about, even now. Senku smiled. Yeah. Space—space would never stop being amazing.

Globous tears began dripping down Chrome’s cheeks, pooling the collar of his shirt.

Senku pulled back a little. “Er. Why the hell did you start crying all of a sudden? Didn’t…ah…expect you to get emotional over this?”

“What…no…I’m not crying.” Chrome spluttered. “Aw, damn it, I am crying.” He rubbed at his cheeks, not that it did anything to stem the tears. He clenched his hands. “Who…who did it, who turned everyone to stone! If I find out, I’ll kill whoever it was!”

Whoa—

Senku scratched awkwardly at his neck. Intense.

“All of the people who came before us, they…they spent millions of years building up civilization. One…one that was full of science and technology and…life!” Chrome covered his face, his voice wavering. “And it all just got wiped out in a flash?”

Suddenly he snapped up, a fierceness of frustration raw in his eyes. “How could that not piss me off!”

Senku chuckled. “Didn’t I tell you, you moron. It hasn’t been wiped out.” He lolled back, lazily flipping out his hands. “Do you honestly think humanity is giving up that easily. Nah. Look around you…”

Chrome looked around with a frown.

“You’re still here.” Senku grinned. “And we’ve got two million years of human history as close as it could be.”

“What…what do you mean?” Chrome looked so hopeful.

Senku raised a finger, tapping his temple again. “Ah, right here…inside my head.” He reached out his hand to Chrome. “And now, it’s inside you too. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.” Chrome folded his hands tight in his lap. “I just…I…”

“Chrome.” Senku flicked him sharply on the nose, making him startle. “Take your time, like I said, it is a lot to process.”

Chrome grew quiet after his break down of the world-that-once-was, withdrawing into his own mind. Senku left him to his thoughts. It was a lot to take in and he couldn’t imagine what it sounded like from Chrome’s perspective. If someone had sat him down and told him about computers and telephones—

Heh—

He might have thought them gods.

Fallen stars.

He halted his step and felt the skin on his neck fleck. Eh.

Nah.

He shrugged off the thought and headed for one of the huts. Kohaku was seated inside, away from the spring sun with Hiroto, working on weaving a series of new mats for the interior of her—their—hut, with the off-cuttings of the silvergrass.

He picked up one of the finished ones. “Nice, did you help Hiroto?” Senku folded himself down beside his little brother.

“Yep!” Hiroto nodded stoutly, holding up his current masterpiece. “I am making new shoes. My leather ones get all hot and icky.”

“Really?” Senku beamed. This was great, Hiroto was taking initiative and being creative, exploring what could be done with different materials. “So proud of you, bub.”

Rolling up a knee to tuck it beneath his chin, Senku glanced over at Kohaku.

“Have you finished telling Chrome of the world before?” She didn’t look up from her weaving.

Senku leant back against a beam in the hut. She so readily accepted what he said, that there was a world before, that he was one of the stone statues awakened. It made him burn with curiosity to know the Hundred Tales.

“He’s currently taking it in and breaking it down. It…ah…upset him a bit.”

“Chrome is like that. He’ll adjust.” Kohaku nodded. “Hiroto has been telling me his own version.” She smiled the softest of smiles that tugged something in his chest. If this was how Taiju had felt around Yuzuriha for years then he hadn’t given the guy enough credit, this was mental, not being able to control one’s own reactions.

A sudden ding echoed in his head, a little too loud, as if he was unconsciously trying to jostle himself out of his current thought spiral.

Kohaku reached for his arm. “Senku?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” He held her hand, without even realising it. “Buzzer in my head went off a bit loud. I was thinking too deeply.”

She looked thoroughly confused, more so than most people would when he confessed that he could, in fact, set accurate mental timers.

Hiroto laughed. “You used to do that with eggs!”

“I did, because someone…” Senku tackled Hiroto, tickling him to make him squeal, “would cry when his eggs weren’t runny enough.”

“Runny eggs are the best eggs.”

“So gross.” Senku muttered as he hoisted himself up. “You’re practically an alien.”

Hiroto blew a rasp. “You’re the one who can buzz in your head.”

Senku chuckled. This was true.

“I just like runny eggs.” Hiroto stated.

“Donno, Hiroto, that sounds like enough evidence for…”

Hiroto dramatically gasped. “Oh no!”

“Dissection!” Senku made to leap.

Hiroto tore out of the hut squealing happily. Senku burst after him. They ran around the encampment until he eventually caught the little wiggling brat and tipped him upside down to swing him around. He only managed a few loops before he collapsed.

Byakuya had made that look way—way—easier, but the old-man had been pretty jacked under his fisherman knits, which, for some reason had always made the nurses swoon.

Senku lay on the ground, Hiroto flopped over him, giggling happily. At least the brat was happy. Succuss.

“Senku…” Hiroto whispered suddenly.

“Hm?”

“I see an alien!”

“Okay…sure…well, how about you go investigate that.” He winced as Hiroto scrambled over him and burst into a mad dash across the encampment, calling for Nala.

Senku flopped back, arms and legs splayed out as he stared at the afternoon sky. Kohaku’s shimmering golden hair, loose from its wild knotted bun, fell over him as she leaned into his field of vision.

Her eyes were spectacular. Like sunlight glinting on the surface of a river. His skin prickled. Kohaku held out a hand and he accepted it. Her grip was confidently strong, her hands roughened and calloused.

Some women back in his era would been horrified at the roughness of her unshaved skin. Hell—some men back in his era would have proclaimed her unfeminine.

And here he was, just finding himself glad that she didn’t have any concept of such preconceived notions. It was so fucking refreshing. Like a—

Reset.

Oh no.

Did Tsukasa have a point?

Senku winced.

“You are very good with him,” Kohaku commented.

Senku dusted off his coat. “I’m not…really…”

Her brow furrowed in annoyance.

“I’m just imitating my old-man.” He gave a shrug. “But then, isn’t that what parenting is, you pick the best of what came before.”

“I suppose so.” She mused.

“Ah.” Senku raised a finger. “My buzzer. Right, yes!” He spun on his toes towards the pots, boiling over the hot coals. “Would you mind lending me a hand?”

She bounced beside him. “What do you need?”

Senku swept up the wooden paddle. “I need you to use your muscle power to beat the contents of these pots until they turn into a sort of globby paste.” He handed her the wooden paddle.

“What do I get for this?”

“My eternal gratitude. I donno?” Senku shrugged. “What do you want?”

She folded the ladle behind her back and leant forward daringly. “Wear my knot.”

Senku massaged the bridge of his nose. Gah. Women. “Fine, whatever.”

Kohaku bounced happily to the first pot.

Senku shrugged out of his coat, throwing it aside. Right. It was time to make soup.

“See, Dad…” he looked up at the sky. “Couldn’t keep me out of the kitchen after all.”

0000

“This is…this is really good.” Chrome lowered the bowl of duck soup into his lap.

“Not really.” Senku grumbled in destain. It tasted grainy and gritty. He was going to blame not having an electrical blender to make the stock smooth as butter.

Hiroto had gone back for a second bowl and was now devouring that. So, it couldn’t have been too bad if the brat was enjoying it. Senku shook his head. He guessed he just lived in nostalgia land.

Kohaku hadn’t taken her eyes off him, even while she ate.

“Alright, Lioness, what is it?”

“Your bruising is worse.”

It was hot working around the fire-pit, making his leather coat a bit of a ridiculous fashion choice, and as picky as he was about how things felt on his skin, the one thing he hated more than the texture of textiles was the feeling of sweat beneath clothing. Drip, drip, dripping off him, or making him steamy. So, he was coatless, which left his bruised neck and shoulder’s open for scrutiny.

He missed cotton.

“Yes, that is how bruising works.” He drawled. “I’m fine.” Sure, yeah, he still felt like he’d been murdered, but he was fine. “You making a fuss about it won’t help.”

She nodded, seeming to accept his tartness. “Chrome is correct, it is good.” She added.

Senku set his bowl aside. “That’s good to hear from you, considering you’re the one I wanted to impress.”

“Oh, really?” Kohaku straightened up.

Senku picked up the clay lid of the still warm cooking pot, setting it firmly in place and sealing it with a bamboo stick. He offered it to Kohaku.

She eased to her feet, taking the pot attentively.

“Your sister is losing strength because she’s not eating. If she is going survive long enough for us to do something, she needs to keep up her strength. Have her handlers feed her this, and if she can tolerate it, we’ll supply her meals from now on.”

“Turquoise won’t agree, but I think I can get Jasper to.” Kohaku nodded.

Senku shrugged. “She is your sister.”

“This is true.” Kohaku muttered.

“Better go while it’s hot.” Senku motioned.

“I will be back soon.” Kohaku took the main path at a rather brisk pace.

Senku called out. “Don’t worry, we’ll be here, making paper.”

Chrome was already curiously standing over one of the pots containing the paper pulp. Senku lifted up one of the presses he’d fashioned and headed back to him. The pulp wasn’t super great, but it was good for a first attempt. They’d get better as time went on, he was sure of it. Nor was their paper going to turn out white. They’d need a bleaching agent for that, and he hadn’t been bothered making one up. Senku sighed at his hands. He was rather sure he was more sunburnt red right now than quartz white. No matter how much mineral paste he applied to his skin as a protective agent, the sun loathed him and he loathed it.

“Soooo…” Chrome motioned at the pot. “What’da we actually doing, cause, this just looks like goop?”

Senku chuckled. “It is basically goop.” He reached into the pot, gathering up a handful of the globby, thick textured paste. “Get a handful, like this, of the pulp.” Senku slapped it onto the surface of the paper press in his other hand. “And add it to the press then squeeze.” He compressed the contraption and water oozed out, dripping across the ground. Opening the press Senku twirled it around to Chrome to reveal the flattened material therein.

“Whoa. It’s flat.”

“That’s what the press does. Flattens it out and squishes out the water. Now, we slap it down on one of the larger mats Kohaku made us, and let it dry in the sun.” Senku unceremoniously dumped the sheet onto the mat beside him. “And that’s one sheet of paper down.”

“So radical!” Chrome stuck a hand into his pot, yanking out a handful of pulp.

Senku handed his press to Hiroto. “Here, have a go.”

Hiroto nodded. “Can I add flowers to my paper, like I did when we made paper with Dad?”

“Sure.” It served no practical purpose, but, heh, why not. It’d keep the brat happy.

Chrome’s first few attempts came out a little wonky, but good enough. He gradually improved in getting the right amount of pulp for a good thickness of paper. Despite the low afternoon sun, the paper still dried rather fast, and they eventually had a hundred decent sheets—as well as a few random experiment sheets from Hiroto.

“I thought…I thought we’d make more.” Chrome frowned.

Senku shook his head. “It’s deceptive. You can harvest a lot of plants, but, once they’ve finished processing, it ends up not amounting to that much. If we want to keep up paper production, we’ll have to do this every couple of days. That’s the nature of it.”

“That’s so much work.” That wasn’t so much a complaint from Chrome, as it was more of a stated observation.

“It is. Yeah.” Using a string of leather, Senku tied up the pile of paper. It was a lot of work, but, it felt incredible. “So, did you have fun?” He asked.

Chrome suddenly burst like a firework. “Yeah!”

Senku stuck a finger in his ear, chuckling. “That’s good.”

It was good. Because—

Because what he had planned to help this Ruri girl was going to be rather gruelling, and totally fucking mental, but—but—

Senku tipped his head back, studying the glint of stars in the soft twilight.

“Watch me, Dad,” he whispered.

Chapter Text

Kohaku smoothed out her skirt and made an attempt to set her wild mane of hair. She was a little envious of the braiding Senku achieved for his and Hiroto’s chaotic hair mops but had not yet gathered the courage to inquire how he achieved such tight bindings.

Right.

She nodded stoutly.

She could do this.

Hoisting up the warm pot of duck soup, she thumped a fist on the doorframe into the guard’s hut on the Temple Island, and, she waited. It was nearing dusk, so, mealtime would be soon. Turquoise was most likely preparing Ruri’s meal by now.

The weave on the door flipped open and Jasper leant out. “Good evening, Kohaku.”

Kohaku held up the pot innocently. “It is for Ruri.”

“You’ve never been one for cooking.” Jasper arched an eyebrow curiously. “Is this another of Chrome’s concoctions. You know the Chief has forbidden him from offering anything to The Priestess, even though you.”

Kohaku pouted. She could cook—kind of.

“It is duck soup.” Kohaku roughly shoved it into Jasper’s arms, forcing him to grab it from her.

“Duck…soup.” Jasper murmured curiously. “You hunted ducks. Oh, Kohaku, please tell me you didn’t steal the hunters bows and arrows. Your father—”

“I did not hunt them. My…claimed one did. He is a good hunter.” And a good cook, unlike her, apparently. She scowled. She would hunt something for Senku. Yes. That would be appropriate. What she was, was a great hunter.

“You mean Kinro.” Jasper frowned.

Kohaku shrugged. If that is what Jasper wished to think, then so be it. She turned sharply. “If Ruri can tolerate the soup, let me know, and we will make her more. She must eat to stay strong.”

Lingering any longer would mean more questions from her mentor. With a backwards wave she quickly headed out across the courtyard of the Temple, glancing up at the main hut and the dim lantern light filtering out through the gaps in the woven door.

“Ruri…” she whispered.

Kohaku clenched her hands tight to her thighs.

Her sister had to live—yes—she was her sister, and yes, she loved her dearly—but—she was also the only one who held the knowledge and secrets of the past, who could pass on that wisdom.

“Live. Ruri. For all of us.”

Saving Ruri, would save the village.

Passing back across the Starway Bridge Kohaku trailed her way through the village. The fish-oil lanterns were lit here and there, making a soft glow against the gradually darkening sky so she could walk between huts. Her feet followed the interconnecting, linking loops of strung prayer flags woven high and dancing softly in the cool evening breeze, until she found herself in the centre island of the village where the great fire-pit burned with the eternal Ancestral Flame. Since it was time for evening meal, most villagers were indoors, and she was alone against the heat of the great fire.

It had never gone out.

Not once, in all the history of their village.

The elders spoke of it being carried over the ocean, from the Island of the Ancestors, for it was the last spark of the fallen star and now, its radiant heat blessed them.

She clasped her hands together, giving a slow bow.

There was a wood pile that was always at ready nearby. Any villager could come and approach the fire-pit and the Ancestral Flame for a blessing by adding a log. She’d lost count of how often she had stood here, staring into the dancing ripples of the fire, or studying the crackling and shimmering of the burning coals. Stood by the edge, felt the blessed heat, but never had she offered a log.

Never offered a prayer.

Kohaku breathed in deeply and looked up at the North Star as she seized a log.

“Ancestors, I seek your blessing, I wish to claim a star that has fallen. It is not…I am not worthy of this honour, but I promise that I shall protect that which you have given this village, with my life.”

She moved to toss the log, and suddenly found herself face down on the ground, staring at the hot coals of the fire-pit as a heavy, weighted knee compressed her back.

No—

No—

She’d been distracted.

She hadn’t even—

Her arm was twisted, the grip tight and squeezing.

Magma’s roughened, hairy cheek saddled against hers and his oily breath tickled her nose.

“Heard you picked up an Outsider…”

“Get off me.” Her feet clawed at the ground, struggling to find leverage.

“You’re weak. I could snap you like a twig.”

She snarled. In a savage, violent thrust, she slammed her head backwards, catching his nose. There was a satisfying crunch and the splatter of blood. His hold on her arm loosened just enough and she wrenched free, coiling away, her legs twisting up and she bought her ankle down against Magma’s neck in a crack.

He snatched her ankle and dragged her forward, leering through the blood pouring from his nose. “That’s it, fight it.”

Oh—oh she was going to drive her thumbs through his eye sockets.

They both froze as a spear suddenly separated them.

Kinro.

Kohaku landed roughly as Magma released her. He wiped at his bloodied nose and cracked his neck. Good. She spat in his face. Feel that pain!

“Evening, Kinro.” Magma grinned.

“Leave.” Kinro ordered sharply. “You taint this holy ground with your unruly behaviour.”

“She started it.”

Kohaku snarled. “Filthy liar.”

Magma grinned. “I do hope your sister is as feisty as you.”

Kohaku made to attack. Kinro’s spear blocked her path and she was forced to watch her nemesis walk away, humming a happy, mocking tune as he went. A cold, frightful chill beset her as she slumped over, covering her face to heave gasps of air.

He—

He had—

Kinro slowly eased down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

She smacked his hand aside. “I did not need your help.”

He didn’t move. His expression in the soft, warm light of the Ancestral Flames remained as stoic as ever. Stoic yet flitted with a soft kindness that she didn’t deserve.

“Sorry,” she bent forward, pressing into his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Magma won’t be a shadow over your life forever, Kohaku.” Kinro took up his spear as he stood. She nodded, rising to join him and they cast their joint gazes to the fire-pit, and the crackling heat of the Ancestral Flame that was eternal. Kinro gave her a gentle, playful nudge.

“Go on, you were adding a log for your claimed one, weren’t you?”

Kohaku puffed out her cheeks. “Stop teasing.”

“Never.” He leant on his spear.

She snatched up the log she’d dropped, studying it for a moment. If she offered this prayer to the Ancestors, would they even accept it, from someone as selfish as she?

With a deep breath, as though taking a plunge into the lake, she flung the log into the firepit. Sparks scattered into the night as the Ancestral Flame flared. Kohaku jerked her hand back, away from the coals that caught her hand.

Kinro raised his brow as she dusted at the burn.

“Well, it would seem the Ancestors have heard your prayer.”

Kohaku studied the burn. A sign of the Ancestors acceptance.

“Do you think me foolish, for the path I take?” she asked.

“I think you are brave, for everything you do, you do to protect our home.” Kinro smirked, raising his brow. “But you are also bold, strongarmed and uncouth.”

She kicked him sharply in the shin.

“If this is the path you wish to take, then I will support you. You know I always will.”

“I do not deserve your loyalty.” Kohaku sighed.

“You shall always have it.” He turned away. “I took an oath—”

“We were six.” She protested.

“So?” He looked back at her, shrouded in darkness where the Ancestral Flame did not reach, only his eyes glinted with the flame-light. “It makes the oath no less valid.”

Kohaku bowed her head. “Someday, Kinro…” she whispered. “Your loyalty to this village will be rewarded tenfold.”

00000

Senku couldn’t sleep.

Interestingly enough, it wasn’t the numbers that were keeping him awake—it was the eerie lack of the presence of the Lioness within the shambled hut. He’d made a hammock for Hiroto and Nala, getting them both off the ground. He’d have preferred to fashion another treehouse, but he doubted he’d have the time or opportunity to do so.

Senku sighed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling of the tragic hut.

This was useless.

His brain was on fire. His synapses were sparking.

He felt exposed.

Open.

Every breath was loud in his ears.

“Fucking wuss.” He grumbled.

“You’re awake.”

Senku jerked up in alarm. What—the—

He looked around the dark interior of the hut.

“Kohaku?” he hissed.

“Yes, it is just me.” The weave of the hut door rolled slowly up, revealing her inky shadow against the moonlight. “Sorry I am late. I decided to patrol the area.”

Senku shrugged.

Yeah. So. Wasn’t like he’d been worried or some shite. Whatever.

She ducked in, snatching up the flint from its spot on a wall and striking out sparks to light the fish-oil lantern. Its dim glow tinted the interior of the hut a soft, weak yellow glow.

Senku sucked in a sharp breath. “What happened?”

The back of her hand was burnt. It was angry, red, and was going to blister. She hadn’t even bothered to wash it clean of dirt. That wasn’t all—there was the distinct impression of a brutally large handprint clutched around her arm, and for the grip to have left such a bruise already, it had to have been a fierce hold.

A bitter, tangy taste burned the back of Senku’s throat.

“It is nothing.” She dismissed.

“It is certainly not.” He hissed in frustration as he grabbed his medical kit, dragging it over. He didn’t expect her to tell him what happened. That was her own prerogative, but fuck-it, he wasn’t going to let a burn fester.

Kohaku frowned at her burnt hand as if it wasn’t even attached to her. “I was simply adding wood to the village fire before I came back, to ask the Ancestors for their blessing. This means I have received their blessing—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “No, it means you burnt your hand on some coals.”

Senku dragged the fish-oil lantern closer and began to gently clean the wound.

“You think me foolish for believing in the Ancestors.” Kohaku stated.

Great. Well. Now he was being a dick. Senku sighed, folding back his shoulders. “No. That’s not what I mean. I’m just not super into spiritualism. Don’t get me wrong, it totally has its place in society, it’s just not my thing.”

She brushed at the bandages he’d wrapped around her hand. “You do. You believe in the world-that-once-was, you have faith in it, and the people that dwelt in it. It is the same.”

“That’s different, I was there.” He argued around resetting his medical equipment.

“And so were our Ancestors.”

“That’s very different.”

“I do not see how it is. I have faith. So do you do. You told me, when you were having your…” she gave a mocking eye roll that made him want to laugh, “sorcerer battle with Chrome, that you would never fail anything when it came to science. That is faith.”

He thumped back with a groan and dragged a hand through his loose hair. “I’ve had this type of discussion with Taiju far too often, so, you know what, I’m just going to let you sit there and be all spiritualist and weird, okay. It’s fine.” He deflated. “I will never understand it, but that’s fine. I don’t need to understand it, if it’s real for you, then whatever. I do not give a flying fuck. You could believe in an all-powerful spaghetti monster for all I care.”

She smiled at him, all sugary and sweet like. Why did it feel like he’d somehow lost some argument, and this was going to be a theme or something.

Gah. He childishly stuck out his tongue.

Kohaku flicked his ear as she walked past him. “Behave.”

Senku chuckled, tucking his knee under his chin. “No.”

She sent him a sharp glare.

Senku shrugged. “I’m a science delinquent. There was this one time I convinced Taiju to skip school with me and head to the junk yard to blow up microwaves.” He curled his arms up tight, nestling into a ball. “We had so much fun.”

Kohaku stoked the small fire-pit in the hut, adding a clay teapot on the coals to boil.

“Dad was furious.” Senku glanced over to Hiroto, tucked up tightly in the hammock with Nala. “I got my telescope confiscated for a month.”

“What is a telescope?”

“A device that lets you look closer at the night sky.” Senku jutted a thumb at the night outside. “It was probably my most prized possession.”

Her lips compressed. “Are you truly sure you are not a fallen star.”

“Rather confident I’d know if I was a sentient meteor that struck earth.” Senku joked. “Then again, considering the wacked world we currently live in, who knows…who really knows. I could wake up tomorrow to an alien invasion and have to accept that as a reality.”

Aliens was still on his list of possibilities after all.

Kohaku poured out hot water into two little clay cups. He scented the soft aroma of lavender. Well, that was interesting, she drank lavender tea. Heh, no, actually, she did rather strike him as a lavender tea girl.

She offered him a cup.

“Thank you.” He accepted it.

Humans and tea. Seemed not even the end of the world and the fall of civilization could dissuade the human love of herbal drinks. Senku sipped the delicate brew. His toes curled. It was delightful to just feel that warmth pooling in his chest again.

“I…I have something for you.” Kohaku shuffled about in her skirt, tugging out a woven rope from a pocket. She held it out to him. Senku took it, studying the assortment of colours interlinking through the weave. The knit and stitch akin to the one Kohaku wore, and that she had given to Hiroto.

“You said you would wear my knot.” She dusted back a loose strand of her hair.

“I guess I did.” He murmured. This kind a felt like he was accepting a marriage proposal. Where was Yuzuriha when he needed her, oh—right—he’d sent her into the enemy camp. Right.

“Tell me…” he set his tea aside, focusing on Kohaku’s features softened by the dull light of the fish-oil lamp. He took a deep breath. Time to dive in. “What does it mean to claim someone?”

Rip it off like a band-aid. Basically, his go-to approach to anything possibly awkward.

She started off pragmatic in tone, which was amusing, because from the curling of her shoulders, she was feeling nervous. “In regard to a child, such as your brother, who is below the age of maturity, it means claiming them under the roof of your hut, for your protection…they become your own kin. You are then responsible for all their needs and wants, you must teach them until they are capable of making their own hut and protecting their own claims.”

Kohaku looked around the hut and then down at her hands. “I am not…I do not…have much to offer…my claimed ones…”

Senku wrapped the woven rope around his wrist. Her eyes followed his action, and he knew, whatever he was doing, meant something to her. “I think you have plenty to offer, do not sell yourself short. Hiroto and I are basically aliens in this world. Without you, we’d be sitting ducks.”

She gave a soft laugh that faded into an awkward shyness that he had not yet witnessed in her. Kohaku plucked at her skirt, fidgeting.

He waited. This wasn’t on him. This was on her. He’d made his move. Though, he still wasn’t entirely sure what she saw in his skinny arse, but that wasn’t up to him, was it.

Finally, she gave a long, intense huff of frustration and he smirked at how utterly adorable such a reaction was. She doubtfully showed this side of herself to many.

“To claim someone over the age of maturity means you have found an understanding with them.”

“An understanding?”

“Yes.” She grumbled. “I did this backwards.” Kohaku looked away, hiding behind her flood of hair.

“I see…I think. So, first you must have the understanding, then you ask for a claim.” Senku rubbed his chin. “I find the choice of wording fascinating, but, your language likely has formed different meanings and conidiations now.”

“What would you call it?”

“You’re asking for a relationship.” He mused. Was that right? No. It seemed more than that. Oh—wait—he glanced back down at the knot around his wrist and then surveyed the hut. Ah. Oh. Oh shite. “No…perhaps…courtship is the better term.”

“Courtship?”

“A formality of established exchanges and traditions between two people that leads to marriage.” It was interesting that the concept had remained—or—was this also something that was taught in their oral traditions, and if so, who had established it? The basic establishment of formalities around human pairing was rather vital to the stability of a society.

Kohaku waved a hand in front of him. He startled.

“Heh? Oh. Sorry. Got lost in thought.” Senku scrubbed awkwardly at his hair. “I’m not really good at this…sort of…stuff.”

She tucked herself up beside him. It was such a simple thing, to feel the presence of another human. It made him wonder if being encased in stone for centuries had left him starved for the basic commodity of touch, when once, he had so avidly avoided it.

Or was it simpler than even that—

Maybe, in this new world, he could finally let down the walls that had once so fiercely protected him.

“It does not need to be now, or tomorrow, or even later…” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just know, you are not alone.”

Senku dropped his head on hers. “Hope you know what you’re getting into. I always saw myself dying alone and overworked in some laboratory due being a total arsehole.”

Because most people couldn’t tolerate his abrasiveness, and his bad days, and his shite-attitude when he was in pain and over-stimulated and he couldn’t tolerate other humans for simply being—well—normal functioning humans and he was—not—one.

Byakuya had worried about it, not that the old-man was one to talk—he was a brilliantly skilled communicator and had still ended up a single-father to two boys. His chest tightened as Lillian Weinberg’s pretty face flickered up in his memory.

Oh—

Senku’s throat contracted as he glanced at Kohaku resting on his shoulder. Her chaotic mess of floofy blond hair loose from its high knot, was like a mountain of hay around her neck. Senku closed his eyes, pressing his lips together as he tried not to laugh at the idiocy of it all.

So, apparently, he shared Byakuya’s type. That just made him wish the old-man was around, so—so—

He could hear his teasing. Feel his bone-crushing hug.

One.

More.

Time.

“You do not protest.”

Senku stirred, blinking. Kohaku reached up, brushing her thumbs at the damp edges of his eyes. “You do?” she whispered.

“No.” He took her hands. “I am emotionally unstable. I was very…focused…on making sure Hiroto and I survived, and then Taiju…and getting through the winter, making the Revival Fluid.” He sighed. “I never gave myself time to grieve.”

“For the world-that-once-was?”

He shook his head. “For my father.”

“Was he not turned to stone like you?” Kohaku frowned in confusion.

“I do not know, but even if he was, it would not have mattered.” Senku motioned up at the night sky, draped in the alluring wash of the Milky Way. “He was up there, in the International Space Station, when the green light flashed. In all the situations…scenarios…I can think of…” he swallowed. “None of them are good.”

“I…I don’t understand. I’m sorry.” Kohaku’s hand squeezed his. “I am sorry.”

He could tell she was frustrated at her lack of understanding and comprehension of his words and his world, and from that had a fierce hunger to devour knowledge.

“My Father was an astronaut.” He rubbed his nose, seeing her blank look, which usually meant she was taking in his words, but not grasping them. “Someone who travelled into the stars.”

Clarity settled across her features. Senku laughed, cocking his head to the side. “I have a feeling you’re never going to let me go, are you.”

“If you wished it. I would un-claim you.” Kohaku looked down at her lap, fiddling with her roughened fingers in a very feminine action. “I have been bold, strongarmed and uncouth.”

Senku’s lips perked at the amusing turn of phrase. Uncouth. Wherever had that word come from in their vocabulary.

He swung himself around, leaning back on one of the hut’s main beams, tangling her up between his legs.

“Be bold, be uncouth and strong. It’s who you are.” He faced her, straight on. If he was going to solidify this, if he was going to deal with this shift in his reality, then she deserved his full and undivided attention.

His complete commitment.

“But you are also observant, gentle and peaceful.” Senku flicked a hand about. “We shift our personalities around people and situations. That’s not a crime…well…not usually.”

It was a little hard to tell in the dim light of their little fish-oil lantern, but he was pretty sure her face was pink. Ah. Guess he’d have to remember that being told she gentle was deeply required. Good to know.

Kohaku leant on her own beam, swinging her legs down against his, so they crisscrossed in the entrance of the hut. “Well.” She huffed. “You think yourself a cruel, awful person. You are not. I see you.”

Senku raised his brow. “What do you see, Lioness?”

She raised her chin. “Perhaps I shall tell you, someday, when I am so inclined.”

Oh—

Oh, he did like that little daring perk of her lips.

“I look forward to it,” he whispered. “Someday.”

Chapter Text

“Hoshi, hoshi! Don’t go far!” Kohaku’s shout rung through the camp. “Stay within the Ring of Stones!”

“I know!” Hiroto twirled around happily in his new shoes, that he had made himself. In the leather bag over his back he’d stuffed some extra food, a spare blanket and sleeping mat. Senku had looked at him with a raised eyebrow and asked him if he was going exploring, then ruffled his hair and laughed. Sometimes, having a brother who was easily distracted was good, it meant he could be sneaky.

Hiroto clicked his tongue to Nala, and she curled around him, rubbing against his side. She was getting so much bigger now, and needing so much more food! He made the clicking sound for hunting and she slinked off into the forest. She’d probably be gone for most of the morning, and return covered in icky blood.

He’d wanted so much to ride her when she got big enough, but Senku had gone into this big boring explanation that it was impossible to ride lions because the weren’t shaped right to be ridden on like horses.

So now he needed a horse!

Hiroto nodded stoutly. Yep. He’d find a horse to add to his pokemon collection.

“I will be the very best pokemon master!” He bounced down rocks and over roots, taking the trail he’d marked out for himself. The forest was very, very thick with the trees giant and all twisted up. Sometimes, if he wasn’t careful, he’d fall into a big pit of moss and have to crawl his way out. Eventually though, he made it to the Ring of Stones, or what the villagers seemed to call the Ring of Stones.

It was really a group of young teens who must have been on a school camp, sitting around a campfire when the scary green flash had happened. One of them was missing a head, and he’d searched everywhere for it but hadn’t found it. Others were missing hands, or fingers, and one had a completely shattered leg, but most of them were intact thanks to being protected by some huge trees.

Standing amongst them felt scary, and his skin got all prickly.

The wind rustled against the high canopy, whistling the branches, sprinkling soft sunlight across the frozen faces. They were all smiling, laughing—enjoying an afternoon together.

“At least you’re all still together…” Hiroto finished weaving another flower crown, laying it on one of the teens’ heads. “It’ll be alright. My brother will save you.”

He moved back to the centre of the circle. “Suika!” Hiroto called out loudly. “I’m back!” He shrugged off his pack. “I’m going to put the stuff I promised in the middle of the Stones.” Carefully he lay the new mat, blanket and extra food out, as well as a new pair of shoes he’d fashioned. Giving the collection a little pat, he stood and headed to one of the statues, sitting himself down in their lap.

And he waited.

He’d finished making a couple of flower crowns by the time Suika emerged from the forest like a flittering shadow, slipping free of the undergrowth and slinking across the ground without a sound.

She stopped in front of the pile he’d left. He didn’t want to frighten her away, like he had the first time he’d encountered her in the forest. It’d taken him ages to find her again, or—it’d been more like she’d found him.

Apparently, according to her, he’d been getting lost and she had led him back to camp. But he hadn’t been lost! That was ridiculous. Ishigami’s didn’t get lost.

Suika gave a small bow. “Thank you.”

He smiled and stood, taking her acknowledgement as permission to rise and approach.

“I made you shoes.” He motioned to the extra pair.

With the melon-mask she always wore over her head, he couldn’t do what Senku did, he couldn’t read her face. Senku was very good at reading faces. Dad and Senku had always said that faces had a whole language of their own. He’d never understood that until he had no face to look at.

Instead, he had to watch her hands and her shoulders. He didn’t want her to think he was a bad-friend.

She studied the shoes curiously before slipping them onto her bare feet. Hiroto scratched his chin. “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t like them.”

“I like them.” She bounced around a bit. “Can you tell me another story about your world?”

“Sure. Um…what do you want to know about?”

“I don’t know. What should I know about?”

Er. Good question.

She twirled around. “You said there were big birds that could carry people in the sky, tell me about those?”

“You mean aeroplanes, they’re not birds, though they can look like birds…” Hiroto sat himself down and Suika joined him, tucking into her meal by slipping food beneath her melon mask. He wondered why she wore it. If she was shy, if she didn’t like something about her face. She hadn’t said anything about him being weird and different, which was nice.

Somehow his explanation on aeroplanes became a historical dive into human’s attempts at flight. This was a topic he knew well, as an Ishigami. He’d fallen asleep to Dad or Senku reading him books about humans and the desire to conquer the unknowns of the sky and beyond.

“Am I boring you?” he worried.

“No.” Suika shook her head, the melon bobbed about.

“Oh. Um. Okay—”

Nala suddenly bounded into the Ring of Stones, dashing up to him and knocking him off his perch. He spluttered and choked at her weight.

“Nala!” Hiroto batted at her nose. “Your breath stinks.”

He crawled out from beneath her, wiping saliva off his face. She was growling.

“Nala, it’s fine, it’s just Suika.”

“She’s not growling at me…” Suika grabbed his hand.

Hiroto startled at the touch, but before he could remark on it, he was roughly yanked through the undergrowth and forced to follow her.

“It’s Magma. Run! Quickly!”

Magma? Who—who was Magma?

00000

Senku studied the large earthen vessel inside the Treasure Hut. It was an enormous pot of sea salt. Had to be at least seventy kilograms worth of salt inside. How had Chrome figured out how to make this much sea salt? To one litre of seawater, there was approximately thirty-five grams of salt. Heh. Nah. It was possible. Chrome had the curiosity and time on his hands to figure it out. It was a marvel the guy hadn’t accidently killed himself with some of his experiments, especially the whole playing around with fire shenanigans. Senku lolled his head to the side. Eh. Wasn’t like he was a saint in that department.

“Ah well, it does make things easier.” Senku grinned at the salt. “Still…I’ll have to get him to show me how he’s doing this—”

“Senku!!”

His attention snapped around at the loud shout that hollered through the camp. Hiroto. That was Hiroto. Senku swung himself out of the Treasure Hut and down the ladder, landing with a thud.

“Hiroto!” He ran between several of the huts.

Kohaku had been working on deconstructing the deer she’d hunted earlier that morning. She’d been extremely proud of her catch, presenting it to him with a happy bounce and a shine to her eyes. So, he’d had to reorganize his day around the deer.

She wasn’t near the deer.

“Hiroto! Kohaku!”

Shite—

They both needed bells. Note to self, make bells.

He turned another corner around a hut, and smacked straight into something solid and unmoveable. Senku winced, backing up several paces. Oh. Whoa. He’d ran into a man.

“Dude, what do they feed you?” He rubbed at his shoulder. “That was like walking into a brick wall.”

“Senku!” Hiroto’s cry came from behind Kohaku. She had taken an aggressive stance, her twin blades out. Though she was trying to appear loose and at ease, she was trembling—not in rage—though one might have mistaken it for rage. That was not what he saw behind her eyes. She was terrified, and frightened people could fight something fierce.

Therefore, this mammoth brick-wall had to be Magma. Akin to Kohaku, he wore a knot of colours in his thick mountain of shaggy dirty-blond braids. His tattoos weren’t just on his thighs, but adored his arms as well. A warrior—no—a future chieftain.

Yeah. Senku could see it.

His presence was completely and utterly ignored. Maybe the brute hadn’t noticed him? Possible, since his focus was very much on Kohaku. Senku’s fingers twitched.

“How about we pick up where we left ourselves last night.” Brick-wall made a crude gesture that caused Kohaku to suck in a sharp breath. Senku cocked his head curiously. He had no idea what that gesture meant, but it meant something to these people. Had they developed their own insults?

That was so cool—

No wait—

He was getting off track. Brain. Focus.

Senku studied the large hand that waved about aggressively. Yep. Fit the bruise on her arm. Okay. His fingers slipped over his sling. It’d be a terribly bad idea if he did what he wanted to do, even though the illogical part of him was demanding that he did. It’d been one thing to be twelve and have his science projects utterly decimated by school bullies. Taiju had been there to talk him out of his maniacal little bouts of revenge back then. It wasn’t that he’d ever been serious with any of his wild ideas, but Taiju had always, very patiently explained to him that no—it really wouldn’t be a good idea to make a death-ray machine and use it on the morons who’d destroyed their rocket, nor was it a good idea to set a high voltage bear-trap for them, or burn them to death with a flame-thrower.

This though—

This might have been the first time in his life that he was seriously reconsidering his stance on trying to read, learn, understand people so that he could adjust himself around them. Everything about this brick-wall made him feel ill and twisted up inside. Was it just because he knew that Kohaku had been hurt?

Wasn’t like he was capable of even attempting to defend her.

He was the equivalent of a twig compared to this giant oak.

Maybe he couldn’t win a fight, but it didn’t need to be a fight.

Senku reached into his medical kit, pulling out a pouch of mineral powder.

“Oie, arsehole.”

Magma turned, looking confused at his interjection. Kohaku though, Kohaku appeared fit to panic that he’d even drawn attention to himself again. That was kind of cute.

Senku casually puffed the powder straight up into Magma’s face. “It’s a deadly poison. You’re going to die in the next hour. Oh no. So sad.”

The brute choked and spluttered in a wild, frenzied terror. “What! Sorcery!”

“I joke.” Senku cracked a laugh then stopped abruptly. “But, I warn you, if you come back here, I will mix up a poison so lethal it’ll knock you out in minutes.”

He’d promised Byakuya not to use his powers of science for evil, but he wondered if the post-apocalypse nullified that childhood oath.

Magma raised his axe. Senku didn’t move, just arched an eyebrow.

“Wow. Very impressive.” He slow clapped. “Big man has a big axe. I have a warrior goddess.”

“Walk away, Magma.” Kohaku’s knife was at the brute’s side, though she was shaking. It was taking her enormous effort to remain standing in the presence of what had to be a source of terror for her. It was apparent now that she hadn’t walked away from the last fight with this man mentally unscathed. Her wound might have healed, but there was far more going on than he’d realised.  

Magma swung his axe over his shoulder, casually—no—lazily. He leered down at Senku. “I will remember this.”

“Don’t care.” Senku shrugged.

Really, he actually didn’t.

“So, you can leave now.” Senku motioned with a tossing dismissal. 

“Your presence is not welcome here, Outsider.” Magma itched forward.

Senku raised his arm, pulling down the sleave of his coat to reveal Kohaku’s knot.

“Oh, what’s this?” He grinned. “Is this…” he looked over at Kohaku. “Is this a visible sign of our understanding. Look at that, guess I’m not an Outsider.” 

Magma’s hand around his axe tightened. “You are not fit to be a chief.”

This was true.

“You have chosen ill, Kohaku.” Magma bellowed a laugh as he turned away. “You and your sister, you will both be mine by the end of the season.”

None of them moved until the brick-wall was well and truly gone from their camp. Then Senku heard Kohaku collapse into a heap, all strength draining out of her. He wasn’t at all surprised. She’d been running on a high octane, burning through her reserves to just function at such a level of stress. He knelt and attempted to hug her. Ah. This was awkward. He hadn’t done this with another girl other than Yuzuriha. What did the protocol involve here? Her returned grip was vicelike, so, he presumed he’d made the correct move. He—he wasn’t exactly good at this touchy-feely thing; it was more a mimicking action he’d perfected, like becoming a chameleon to blend in with other humans. He’d observed enough behaviour to know how to gauge his own responses, but it wasn’t as if his responses felt intrinsically natural. He wasn’t sure if any interaction ever would feel natural, other than—with Hiroto, Dad—Taiju, Yuzuriha.

Well, maybe it was possible then. He just had to absorb someone into his inner circle.

Right now, Kohaku still felt like a completely foreign space anomaly invading his own personal solar-system, and she’d just collided with him, and they were trying to establish some sort of orbit around each other.

“You’re alright…” he whispered, prefacing it more as a statement than a question.

She nodded against his shoulder. “He will…he will return to my father—”

“Don’t give a shite.” Senku dismissed. “Neither should you. Let’s focus on what we can do, let’s focus on saving your sister, and…in doing so…” he gripped her chin tightly, “we’ll save your father too. Sound good?”

Kohaku nodded, brightness and colour returning to her cheeks. By the time she turned and stood, she’d reset herself and had reverted to her solid, reassured self. Senku used her as a ladder, gripping her arm to hoist himself up. She perked an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“What? Yes, I know, you could bench press me easily. I am aware.”

Hiroto giggled.

“Oie, you are not out of the woods, bub.” Senku rounded on his wiggling, giggling little brother. “Stop attracting trouble.”

“I don’t, trouble attracts me!” Hiroto flung up his arms.

Senku slapped his face, groaning. That was worse.

“Hiroto, how did you ever find Suika?” Kohaku quired, looking around. “And she’s gone again…”

“Suika’s just like that.” Hiroto shrugged.

Suika? Kohaku had mentioned her before. Said something about her being a wild forest child. There was a story behind that.

“I said I saw an alien the other day.” Hiroto offered. “I went to look for it, and I found Suika.”

Kohaku looked perplexed. “I have been trying to find her…she always runs from me.”

 Senku dusted the powder still on his hands off on his coat. “A true Ishigami, attracting the weird and wonderful. Making Dad proud.”

“Ishigami…” Kohaku whispered, blinking rapidly.

Senku looked at her. “Our family name. Do you guys have those?”

She shook her head. That wasn’t what caught his eye, it was the way her hand wrapped around the bound-up burn mark he’d tended to the night prior, squeezing tightly. She almost looked like she was about to faint.

Weird.

She was weird.

Hiroto latched onto his legs suddenly, bouncing. “Can I go play more! Please! Please! Please!”

Senku looked back down the path. “Try and stay near the camp. Don’t trust that guy to not come back and cause trouble.”

“Okay.” Hiroto nodded. “Come on Nala. Let’s go build a raft for our pirate adventure!”

Senku watched Hiroto dash off, Nala hot on his tail.

Well—

That’d been an event for the morning.

“Fucking hell,” he looked over at Kohaku. “So, that mammoth tank was Magma.”

With Hiroto’s absence, Kohaku folded into something utterly miserable. No. Worse than miserable. She was full of twisted self-loathing that was making her curl up. It wasn’t right. She was brilliantly bold, like the scorching sun, she should not have feared anything. No cloud should have dared smother her glow.

“Oie.” He smacked her chin up. “He’s a piece a shite. Don’t let pieces of shite have space in your brain.” Senku clapped his hands, urging her back towards the table she’d vacated. There was still a deer carcass that needed dealing with, and he wanted to get the meat salt-cured and stored so they had supplies for a bit. Then he could start thinking about his next step.

Honestly. It was exhausting just managing to survive day-to-day, let alone thinking about doing anything beyond that. But, he supposed that was the reality of being a human in this new world.

Kohaku nodded. “Yes. Of course. Fear is an infestation.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have gone that far.” He chuckled, following her back to the deer carcass. “Fear is a natural human response that has helped us survive for millions of years. Don’t knock it.”

They spent time breaking down the deer Kohaku had bagged, apparently catching one was a bit of a rarity for the villagers. This was enormously confusing, as he’d hunted in the forest  without concern. Was the deer population lacking in this area? He’d need to investigate that. There might be larger predators and hell did he want to run into another wild dog pack or—something worse—

What had been in the Japanese Zoo’s that he needed to worry about? What could have breed and thrived over almost four thousand years, like the lions.

Kohaku smacked him roughly on the head, causing his straw hat to bounce around. “You’re losing focus again.”

He chuckled, peering at her under the rim of the hat.

“What are we supposed to be doing with all this meat?” Kohaku asked. “Shall we share it with the villagers?”

“Do you guys do any sort of meat preservation at all?” He peered up at her over the rim of his hat.

“I do not understand.”

Senku looked back at the Treasure Hut. “Okay. Well, could I borrow your strength to let me get something out of the Treasure Hut?”

Kohaku beamed and bounced after him. Senku rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

With Kohaku’s help, the vessel of salt was carried back to their outdoor workstation. She stood over him, hands on her hips as he removed the large protective lid to reveal the white mineral within.

“One of Chrome’s sorcery dusts.” She scoffed.

“No. This is salt. Sea salt. Chrome made it. Do you use something like this to preserve your meat?”

She shook her head.

“Right. Okay. Well, today, I’m going to teach you how to preserve meat for long term storage using two different techniques, one is called salt curing, the other is called brining. We’re going to use one of the huts over there…” he pointed to the hut. “It’s in a very cool spot, doesn’t get any sunlight so it won’t warm up, even when summer hits, and it has good ventilation and isn’t damp. It’ll be our new meat storage hut. Chrome is clearing it out and making us some storage space right now.”

“Oh, that’s what he’s been doing.” Kohaku stabbed her knife into a piece of meat, slicing it.

“Oie! Chrome!” Senku called out. “You done! I’m gonna mix the cure, you said you wanted to see this…apparently amazing thing I’m doing.”

Chrome stuck his head out of the hut. “Coming!” He whooped gleefully and dashed across their camp towards them. “Do you have enough salt?”

“Should be good. But we’ll have to head down to the ocean to make some more in a few days.”

“Cool! Love a good ocean hike.” Chrome grinned. “Lots of super amazing things at the beach.”

Oh—really? That was fascinating—no—don’t get distracted. Senku chuckled. He held up two smaller pots. “This is sugar.” He tipped the sugar into the salt. “These are some herbs you’ve collected, Chrome. We’ve got some peppercorns, some dried bay leaves and clove.”

“I had no idea they had names.” Chrome murmured.

“We’ll go herb hunting together, see if we can’t start a garden.” Senku offered. He tipped the sugar and herbs into the salt pot and began mixing.

He dragged over several smaller clay pots and began adding handfuls of salt into them. Kohaku and Chrome watched curiously. “Right…see how I filled up the bottom of these pots with salt, yeah?” Senku offered.

They both nodded.

“Good, now each of you grab a piece of meat and add it to a pot.”

He watched them do so.

“Now cover that meat in more salt. So the meat is fully covered.” Senku dumped in more salt. “And seal tight.” He fashioned on the bamboo lids. “And we’ll leave for about a week. That’s salt curing.”

“Wait…that’s it.” Chrome thrust his hands at the pots they’d gathered up. “Seriously. That’ll keep the meat.”

Well—

There was a lot more to it. There was a fuck ton of chemistry behind even just making the sea salt they were using, but going into the details of that seemed utterly pointless.  

Senku nodded. “It will dry the meat out. The salt acts as an absorbent, and also stops bacteria from growing. We can check to make sure it doesn’t spoil, but hopefully, it shouldn’t.”

“Er. What’s bacteria?” Chrome asked as he spooned more salt into another pot.

Senku dropped his head back, giving a long sigh. “That’s a whole can of worms.”

“What’s a can of worms?” Kohaku handed them both pieces of meat.

Senku blew a rasp. “Just…can we just focus on finishing this one job.”

His head hurt, and all they were doing was meat preservation.

They really needed to find some chickens, or at least, the new equivalent of what a domesticated chicken had become, some three thousand, seven hundred years into a human-less future.

00000

It was nearing mid-afternoon by the time they’d finished their meat preserving and storing, but it was with great satisfaction that Senku slapped shut the door to the hut. Done. Fucking done. They weren’t going to die of starvation if they got distracted by their science project. With the way both he and Chrome seemed to bounce off each other, they were totally going to get distracted.

Senku cracked his fingers, one by one, heading back towards the main fire-pit of the encampment. So, how was he going to explain what he wanted to achieve to Chrome and Kohaku? How could he possibly break down such a complicated process into bite sized, easy to understand concepts for two people who had no grasp on any—

Heh—

Who was he kidding, neither of them were going to get any of it. He was just going to have to guide them as they took it step by step. He idly picked up a stick from the kindling pile, beginning to scrawl and sketch in the dirt. He had a basic roadmap sketched out when the sound of sobbing piqued his thoughts, drawing him out of his hyper-focus.

“Hiroto?” Senku asked the space around him. In reply, Kohaku emerged between the huts from the lake side path, carrying a crying Hiroto in her arms.

“What happened?” Senku loosened his medical kit from around his hips as Kohaku set his little brother down on one of the work benches. The brat had scraped his knees and legs, and it was bleeding thick red streams of blood down into his new shoes.

“Common aliment of energetic children, heh.” Senku sorted through his kit. He was running low on his ethanol. He wondered what the villagers used for alcohol production, and if he could steal any of it to make disinfectant.

“We were rock hopping, hunting for…pirate…treasure.” Kohaku stumbled over the foreign word, pirate. “I apologise, I forget that I am more agile than others.” She sighed.

Senku gave her arm a pat. “It’s fine. Don’t fuss.”

“Am I going to die?” Hiroto sniffled.

“You’re not going to die.” Senku dabbed at the skinned knee, clearing away the blood so he could carefully ease out the sharp pieces of stone before wrapping the wound.

Chrome approached them, his brow furrowed in concern. “What happened?”

Kohaku shook her head. “We were on the lake shore.”

“Ah, treasure hunting! Yeah. I’ve tripped over tons while doing that too, Hiroto. Kohaku goes super-fast doesn’t she.” Chrome shook his head at her.

“She’s so fast!” Hiroto burst out, waving his arms.

“Did you even find any treasure?” Senku finished strapping the wounds. There. Okay. That should hopefully keep infection out.

“I did!” Hiroto nodded. He dug around in a pouch and held out his hands.

“Whoa!” Chrome gasped. “Treasure!”

Senku’s brow lifted. Yeah. That was an accurate evaluation. Hiroto had an assortment of jewellery and old coins in his hands.

Senku took a gold bracelet, holding it to the sun to watch it sparkle. “Hiroto, this is incredible.”

“Is it pirate treasure?” Hiroto asked.

“It is treasure.” Senku smiled. “I’m guessing the rivers have been a collection point of a lot of stuff over the centuries and it would eventually wash into the lake. Bet there is some neat junk in the bottom of the lake, that’s for sure.”

“Wait, so, this is all from your world?” Chrome studied one of the old coins.

“Yep.” Senku nodded. He held out one of the coins to Kohaku. “These have no value now, but, they would make good earrings.”

“Fascinating.” Kohaku offered the coin back to Hiroto. “Perhaps Hiroto and I can visit our village artisan.”

“Yeah!” Hiroto burst out. “I wanna do that.”

“So, wait, these survived?” Chrome was still studying the coin he held. “I’ve found heaps of things, but I just…I’ve never known what they are. They could have all been from your world.”

“Most likely, yes, they may have been. It’s really not that unusual.” Senku offered. “Back in our day, they were digging up jewellery and coins in archaeological sites.” He studied the bracelet he held. Some pretty lady had probably worn it, so long ago, in the distant past. But it didn’t feel like ancient history to him. It still felt like he could go to sleep and wake up, and find himself back in Tokyo, with the noise and people and the tight streets.

“Maybe Ruri will like it!” Hiroto looked up at Kohaku with big, hopeful eyes. “Maybe it will make her feel better! Girls always feel better when they get pretty things.”

Senku snorted. “Alright, who taught you that?”

“Dad, of course.” Hiroto looked proud.

“Yeah, that does sound like something Dad would have said.” Senku muttered. “The old womanizer.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night, you can visit Temple Island with me when I take Ruri her next meal, yes, and we can bring her the bracelet.” Kohaku offered, looking to Senku for permission.

“Sure.” Senku shrugged. “On the note of your sister.” He twirled around. “Since we’re done with the basic preparations to keep us alive for another few days. Now we can focus on keeping Ruri alive.”  

The mere mention of keeping Ruri alive caused Kohaku and Chrome to crowd in front of him. He shoved them both back in disgust.

“Personal space.”

Kohaku looked apologetic, Chrome just bounced on his toes with vibrating excitement. “What are we going to do? Are we going to make some sort of incredible potion?”

“Well…you’re not far off, technically.” Senku picked up his stick from the kindling pile and waved it at his scrawling sketch in the dirt. “We’re going to make one of the greatest discoveries mankind ever made…we’re going to make antibiotics.”

The one thing that would assure the survival of humanity in this new stone world. The discovery of antibiotic’s had altered human history, and the fascinating thing was, it’d been such a recent discovery as well in the grand scale of human civilization.

“What are antibiotics?” Chrome asked.

“Well, they’re a medicine that is used to treat bacterial infections. They can either kill the bacteria or make it difficult for the bacteria to grow and multiply.”

“Wait, we’re talking about bacteria again…” Kohaku frowned. “What is bacteria? You never said?”

Senku sighed, massaging his head. Beside him, Hiroto began giggling. He gave the brat a little kick. “Oie, hey, you try explaining it then, you little gremlin.”   

“Hmm…” Hiroto crinkled up his nose. “Bacteria are tiny, itty bitty little creatures—”

“Microscopic, single-celled organisms.” Senku nursed his head.

“They live everywhere!” Hiroto spun around. “All over the place! They’re very important! But!” Hiroto halted. “There are evil bacteria too.”

“Pathogenic bacteria.” Senku added.

“Evil bacteria makes us sick.” Hiroto nodded. “Like tonsilitis. Only good thing about tonsillitis is eating ice-cream!”

“Streptococcus pyogenes.” Senku interjected. “Strep throat. It’s pretty nasty once it gets going and is left untreated.”

Kohaku brandished her knife. “Then I will fight this bacteria!”

Senku reached out for her hand, slowly lowering the weapon. “I admire your willpower, Lioness, but you can’t fight bacteria with swords. Microscopic means that something is so small you can only view it through a special device…that we currently don’t have.”

“Then…then how do we fight these…bacteria?” she clenched her jaw. “How do you fight what you cannot see?”

“Antibiotics.” Senku clapped his hands and spread them. “Antibiotics fight bacteria.”

“And we’ll use this to save Ruri?” Chrome asked.

“Yep.” Senku nodded. “There are two ways to make antibiotics, we could make penicillin or we could go the stone route and make a sulfa drug from rocks.”

They both stared at him with completely blank expressions. “From…rocks?” Kohaku crossed her arms.

Ah. She was unbelieving in his genius. No matter.

“Making penicillin from mould is considered the more well-known route, but…it’d be a long process for us, we’d be risking waiting years to grow the right mould. That’s too risky. No, we need a path that we know will work, one billion percent.” He grinned down at his scrawled-out roadmap.

Chrome vibrated with excitement. “We can do this!”

Senku slapped a hand down on his shoulder. “We’ll skip two million years, straight to a cure-all drug.”

“Yeah!” Chrome whooped. “Okay, so…so…first we need iron!”

“Iron isn’t particularly easy to get…” Senku frowned.

Somehow, Senku had no idea really how, they’d ended up getting way off topic from where iron could be found, to discussing the concept of magnets, which folded into the magnetic field, which plummeted into him telling them about the entire makeup of the planet itself. Try fucking explaining the concept of the Earth being a giant round ball in the middle of a void of space to two morons.

Senku lay flat on the ground, feeling nothing but actual pain from the protesting he’d been receiving from both Kohaku and Chrome. It was well past Hiroto’s bedtime, and his little brother had fallen asleep strung up in a hammock in the tree Kohaku was currently standing aloft in.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Chrome bounced around in excitement, his voice pitching high. “You’re telling me that it’s actually the planet that is moving! That’s why we have night and day!”

Senku flipped up a hand. “Yeah, it’s not a lie.” He groaned.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Kohaku protested from her spot in the tree. “I mean, if that’s really the case, then why am I not flying off his branch? Heh?” She propped a hand on her hip. The way she spoke made her sound so confident, as if she’d just proven him wrong on every level. It was both frustrating and adorable all at once.

“That’s because of a little thing we call gravity.” Senku drawled out wearily.

With far too much happiness and perkiness, Chrome looked skyward. “You know, I always did think it was weird that only one star stayed in the same place.”

Senku groaned, rising back onto his feet. Oh—he was so stiff. He rubbed his neck. Scanning the bright night sky, awash with the glittering Milky Way, he noted the sharp shine of the star Chrome was mentioning. He waved at it.

“That’s the North Star. It is useful for navigating, as it’s ten billion percent true north, so, try to remember that.”

“Oh, whoa…I didn’t know.” Chrome admired the brilliant star.

From her ridiculously high perch in the tree, Kohaku remained focused on the sky. “I don’t think it’s true north, Senku. It looks just slightly off from true north.”

Senku scoffed. “No. That’s impossible.” He scratched irritability at his ear, trying to ignore how twisted up in anxiety her perch in the tree made him. “The margin of error is—” His voice caught in his throat. No—wait—

Hang on. Hold up.

He staggered back a step as the thought hit him. “The Earth…its axis’ has shifted!” He twirled around on his feet. “The whole planet has been tilting little by little over the past thirty-seven hundred years and now in the year fifty three seventy nine the fucking north star isn’t true north anymore.” His laughter turned slightly hysterical. It was no wonder his sextant hadn’t worked at all! How had he missed such an obvious observation! For over two years he’d been looking up at the night sky and it hadn’t even occurred to him that time would have altered the axis of the world itself.

He pawed at his face as he chuckled at his own idiocy. “Such a major oversight on my part. Fucking embarrassing.” Senku cocked his head up at Kohaku. “I guess you guys are more observant, not having the baggage of preconceived notions weighing you down.”

Her smile was soft again. “Just sounds like a little mistake. What did I tell you about being so hard on yourself.”

Senku rolled his eyes.

“Wait. Hang on…hold up…” he raised a hand. “How the fuck do you guys know what True North is? Do you have story about that too?”

“Ah, yeah. Dah.” Chrome looked offended. “The Ancestors were Fallen Stars, Great and Powerful Sorcerers.”

“Scientists,” Senku muttered.

If only Byakuya was here. He’d of had a field day with this Fallen Star mythology, the old-man had always been a sucker for all that ancient world, old-gods—Ancient Alien—stories. He’d appreciated that about the old-man, how he’d known how to enjoy the unbelievable and impossible while still retaining his rationality.

“Can you tell me this story?” Senku asked.

They both shook their heads. Senku found himself pouting. Lame. Though, not surprising.

“We’re forbidden. Only the Priestess can repeat The Hundred Tales.” Chrome shrugged.

“Well that’s dumb.” He grumbled.

“Hey!” Kohaku snapped.

Senku shook his head. “You know it is, otherwise you wouldn’t be so worried that your people are at a crisis point with the possibility of losing your sister before she has had offspring to pass-on the oral history.”

Kohaku’s shoulders deflated. “I know…”

“Who’s the best candidate for your sister to wed, by the way?”

Kohaku gave a laugh, pointing to Chrome. Chrome backed up, shaking his head and flapping his arms around. “Ah, no. Listen, it was years ago. We were kids. We had no idea what we were talking about.”

“Ah, you know, this explains so much about your little alliance.” Senku motioned between them both. “Nothing get’s people working together like the intrinsic desire to save someone they love.”

Chrome had pretty much turned into a beetroot with how red he’d gone. “You two are the worst.”

“You’re only just figuring that out now.” Senku scoffed. “Not when my little brother kicked your arse at basic arithmetic.”

Chrome huffed.

Senku narrowed his glare at them both. “I get that you might have a story about True North, but how do you both know where True North is, and that the North Star isn’t True North anymore.” They hadn’t even known the Earth was round. Guess that hadn’t been important enough to put in the Hundred Tales. Or maybe the Ancestors had just presumed it was obvious.

Senku snorted in amusement. These Ancestors sounded pretentious.

“Our Ancestors were sea travellers.” Kohaku tossed out lazily. “We just know.”

Chrome blew a rasp. “Don’t listen to her. I’ll show you how we know. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be back!” Chrome grabbed one of their lanterns and dashed off into their encampment.

Senku watched his little light bob about for a moment before swinging his attention up at Kohaku. “How’s your wounded side feeling?”

She placed a hand beneath her breast. “It is sore, and it pulls when I work, but the heat has settled.”

Senku nodded. “That’s good. It’s healing then.”

“You have been worried.”

“I exist in a perpetual sate of worry. I could power a small nation with my worries.” Senku muttered under his breath.

Kohaku swung herself down from the tree, landing with a neat little flounce.

“You scared me today.”

“Don’t recall doing anything particularly dangerous.” He tapped his chin.

Kohaku’s hand went to her hip. “You picked a fight with Magma.”

Senku blew a rasp. “That was not a fight. That was a de-escalation. If I had done what the primal, illogical, irrational and totally wacked part of my brain wanted me to do—which, I will admit, sometimes it happens—I would have whiplashed a hot piece of coal into his face, pretty sure that would have started a fucking fight.”

Kohaku covered her face, giving a groan.

“And that’s why I don’t let my intrusive thoughts win.” Senku flipped out his hands playfully.

She shot him a glare. “The point is…you scared me. I thought he’d kill you.”

“Dramatic much.”

“You are impossible.”

“Incroyable.” He tipped back on his heels.

Kohaku grabbed him by the collar of his coat to shake him. “Infuriating.”

“Insatiable.” Senku grinned.

“Gah.” She released him.

Senku caught her wrist. Her eyes widened, staring at him as he interlinked their hands while he spoke. “Ah ah, you started an exothermic reaction, if you can’t take the heat, then you shouldn’t have triggered a bond.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Irritating.”

“Illecebrous.” He quipped.

“What…what does that even mean?” Kohaku’s tone pitched in a delightful whine.

Senku smiled, squeezing her hand. “That you are enticing.”

It was fascinating how the harshness about her could soften at his words. Right now, that was all he could experiment with, but it did yield such interesting results.

“Would you two like to move this to your hut, or…”

Kohaku actually squeaked at Chrome’s interruption, yanking her hand out of his. Senku supressed his laugh, fully aware that she would not have appreciated it, and instead, her ire rounded entirely on Chrome.

“Chrome!”

“Don’t blame me!” He protested as he thumped a bowl of water down the ground. “Here, Senku, I got the magic rock.”

Magic—magic rock? Senku frowned.

“We’ve been over this, Chrome, it’s science.”

“Oh, yeah…”

Senku approached him where he was crouched, and he halted mid-step in surprise at the sight of the old-fashioned, crude water-compass.

“This is how we know what True North is.” Chrome thrust his hands out at the bowl of water.

“How did you…” Senku spluttered.

“Oh, so you don’t know what this is.” Chrome grinned. “Have I discovered—”

“Chrome. That’s a magnet.” Senku deadpanned. “I just…I just explained magnets. They have a north and a south.” Senku slapped his face. Gah. He’d just gone over this!

Chrome looked down at the floating piece of magnetized magnetite. “So…”

“You’ve made a compass. This is a compass.” Senku massaged his forehead. Chrome was hilarious. Did this guy just try everything, randomly, to see what would happen?

“So bad! Oh, um, this is…this is bad right?”

Senku laughed. “You continue to be incredible. You got any more of them?”

“Um. Only really tiny ones.” Chrome pouted, “But, if we hike up that mountain over there.” He pointed into the dark night to a shadowy hump rising from the forest’s glistening leaves. “We’re sure to find bigger pieces. That’s where they come from, I think.”

Senku’s brow compressed. Interesting.

“I found this one in the river. And water runs off that mountain into the river.” Chrome held up the magnet, studying it as though it were precious gold.

“The same river Hiroto has been finding his treasure?” Senku looked back at his sleeping little brother.

Chrome nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Senku gave a laugh, clapping Chrome on the shoulder. “Then I guess we’re hiking up a mountain tomorrow.”

“Then can I suggest you get some sleep.” Kohaku moved to hoist Hiroto into her arms, sending him a stark glare. “You’re going to need all the energy you can muster.”

“I donno, you could just carry me.” Senku mocked.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” She tossed over her shoulder as she swayed away into the night.

Chrome squeaked a sharp breath. “She’s so scary.”

“Is she?” Senku gave him a perplexed look. “That’s a hundred percent not what that is.”

No.

That was irresistible. 

Chapter Text

The morning air was brisk as it picked up a coolness from surface of the lake, its gentle blue hue visible through the wide-open windows of the Chieftain’s Hut. Ruri had been feeling well enough to make her way down from Temple Island, and attend the weekly open-hut. A long morning where-in members of the village could present their concerns, fears, disagreements, aliments and the likes before the Chieftain, the Priestess and the Warriors.

Much of the talk this morning had been around the rumour of Kohaku bringing in an Outsider, and worse, staking a claim to them. Magma looked delighted at his report that he had personally seen this Outsider, and could confirm that Kohaku shared an understanding with them.

“What is that girl thinking!” Kokuyo thumped a hand sharply down, rattling his chieftain headpiece, his bellow fierce.

“Is apparent that she is not.” From his spot beside the chief’s chair, Mantle spoke up.

Jasper’s fingers twitched against his side. Every time the little, sleazily man spoke, it twisted something up inside. Perhaps it was because where he now stood had once been the chair of Kokuyo’s wife, a scared place to sit beside the chief. Having Mantle there, degraded her memory.

“If I may, Chief.” Turquoise interjected. “There is no law against claiming Outsiders. It has been done several times throughout our history. My grandfather was an Outsider.”

“Her actions undermine the chief’s authority.” Mantle raised his chin, as though it somehow made him look important. “Our chief has made known to her what her place is in this village, and she refuses to accept it. Instead, she continues to mock our ancient traditions, mock our Ancestors.”

Jasper hissed. Mantle could weave his tongue around as much nonsense as he wished, but to insult the Ancestors was another thing entirely.

“Perhaps I can go, and speak with her, sir.” Jasper interjected.

The look of relief he received from Ruri beside him gave him some reprieve, and he knew he’d made the right choice to step forward. That brief glance between them did not go unnoticed by his old friend, and Kokuyo eased back in his chair, his hands tightening on the armrests. Kokuyo might have been lost in his grief, lost in the tangled net Mantle and Magma were weaving, but he did love his daughters.

“Kohaku trusts me, still, sir. Only the other night, she visited us with a delightful meal she and her claimed had made together.” Jasper urged. He kicked Ruri lightly. She had to play her part.

“Oh, father,” Ruri beamed warmly, taking Kokuyo’s arm. “It was such a lovely meal.”

“Kohaku…cooking…” Kokuyo spluttered.

Ruri giggled. “Rather positive she didn’t do any of it.”

Kokuyo huffed. “If it was Chrome—”

“I would never disobey your orders, sir.” Jasper stiffened. “You know that.”

“But you would…” Mantle sneered. “Kohaku is your precious—”

Ruri broke into rasping, gasping roughs, violent and gagging. He wasn’t even prepared for it. Turquoise was. She collected Ruri, smothering her bloodied mouth in linin.

“Breathe, Ruri. Focus on beathing. Turquoise soothed.

The chief had gone pale. “Ruri?”

“I’m…I’m fine…father…” Ruri murmured. “I…I need to go…and rest. I apologise.” She gave a meek bow. Turquoise held her up as they headed for the door of the chief’s hut. Jasper looked back to Kokuyo, giving a bow.

“I will pay Kohaku a visit, sir. Surely my presence will be less antagonising than that of Magma.”

“And allow you to conspire with this Outsider.” Mantle stood abruptly.

Jasper ignored him.

“My loyalty is to the Priestess and the Ancestral Flame. You know this, Kokuyo.”

Kokyuo nodded. “Go.”

And he left, before Mantle had any chance to say another word. Leaving the chief’s hut was such a relief, it made him dizzy. Once it had been a haven for him, a place to laugh with his two best friends, to see their welcoming smiles and see the joy of their beautiful daughters.

Now it had become a place of cold bitterness.

“Tsuki, you are so missed.” He sighed.

Taking his spear from the weapons rack, he headed through the village, moving quickly to catch up with Turquoise and Ruri, who’d been stopped by some of the children. Ruri could never help herself, no matter how ill she was, she loved the children of their village.

His chest clenched at the sight of her crouching, her forced smile on lips stained red by blood, her cheeks flushed—not by happiness, but by fever—and yet she projected such radiance to the bubbly little horde around her.

“Oh Priestess! Can we please have a story! Please! Please! Please!” Andesite bounced around.

Jasper placed a hand on the boy’s head. “Calm down, Andy.” The boy was probably the most versed kid in the whole village on the Hundred Tales, considering he lived on Temple Island with them, and Ruri had practically raised him.

“But Father!”

He raised an eyebrow. Andesite pouted. Ruri chuckled, giving his son a little peck on the cheek. “Tonight, hoshi,” she whispered.

Andesite nodded. He snatched up the ball the kids had been kicking around and chased after his friends. Jasper watched them go. Ruri stood, swallowing, and he knew she was swallowing blood.

“Jasper…” her hands clenched around her skirt. “If I die—”

“Don’t speak like that.” He abolished quickly.

“But if I do, you know he’s all we have.”

“Andesite is not of your bloodline.”

Ruri’s lips thinned in annoyance. She hoisted up her skirt and stomped away. Jasper nursed his head. Their traditions were strict, he agreed, but they were what had kept their village alive and functioning.

Turquoise placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll take over, go see Kohaku. I’m honestly very curious myself. If she has found someone…”

“I know.” Jasper nodded. “It is good.” He squeezed her hand on his arm. “She has been lonely.”

It was a strange thing, to be alone in a village.

“Could you tell your boy to watch Mantle, I do not trust him to not stir up dissidence, and we cannot risk unrest while Ruri is so unwell.” Jasper added.

“I will have Emerald tail him.” Turquoise inclined her head.

They parted ways. Jasper frowned as he passed by Magma, loitering outside the chief’s hut. He kept his gaze forward, and his shoulder’s taunt. Magma may have been big and broad, and towered over many in the village, but he was still young, and still naïve of the true sacrifices that came with a lifetime of protecting their people—their way of life. Magma didn’t know of the pain that came with living through a famine, of losing entire huts, of burning whole families in the Ancestral Flame.

He hoped Magma, and all the young people, and all the children of tomorrow, and all the tomorrows hereafter, would not know such pains. Jasper looked to the soft shine of the silver moon in the spring sky. By the will of the Ancestors, he could only hope that their world was changing for the better.

It was nice, he had to admit, to take the path out of the village and over the Kennedy Bridge, old-man Kaseki had done such a marvellous job rebuilding and improving the village bridges over the years. It was such a shame that Chrome had never become the old artisans apprentice.

Jasper sighed.

No.

He couldn’t think that way. The Ancestors had charted their individual paths in the stars long ago. It was not his place to judge what had been preordained. The path to the encampment for those excommunicated was draped in prayer flags. He’d forgotten how ceremonial it felt to approach the little pocket hamlet, and pass through its totem gate. He halted at the carved wooden structures. The last time he had visited, when Kohaku had been recovering from her death-wound, nearly all the huts had been in shambles—unliveable in his opinion. There had been no fire-pit, nor a cooking station. Now he was faced with solid huts, a strange looking fire-pit and a peculiar cooking station. The ground was swept. The wood pile was neat and stacked high.

He'd expected to see Kohaku and Chrome, and perhaps the Outsider—

But instead, sitting by the communal fire-pit, was Kinro. Ginro lay on a mat nearby, staring at the sky, humming a lazy tune.

“Kinro? Ginro? What are you both doing here?” Jasper spluttered.

Kinro was immediately up, taking his spear. He gave a formal bow. “Jasper. Welcome.”

Jasper headed towards them. Ah, Kinro. Always formal. Always proper.

Ginro, naturally, was far less reserved, and remained flopped out on his mat.  “We’re being guards! It’s so boring! It’s supposed to be our day off, and what are we doing? Guarding.”

Kirno gave his brother a fond eyeroll, but addressed Jasper directly. “Kohaku requested our aid.”

And—naturally—Kinro responded to the request, and Ginro, having nothing better to do, had tagged along.  

“She was concerned that Magma may return while they were away.” Kinro looked around with a deepening frown.

“I see. So, Kohaku isn’t here.” Jasper sighed.

“Apologises, sir. They have gone to the Storm Mountain.” Kinro pointed to the high peak, with its hard, sharp edges bare of all vegetation. “They seek something there.”

“Do you know when they will be back?” No harm in asking.

“Perhaps high sun.” Kinro offered. “They left far before dawn this morning, to beat the rising of the sun. The Outsiders are…they do not like the sun.” Kinro frowned, shaking his head. “They are…interesting.”

Ginro sat up. “No, they’re Outsiders, and he attacked me.”

“Attacked you?” Jasper looked between the two.

“It was a misunderstanding.” Kinro shook his head. “We sorted it out.”

Jasper seated himself at the fire-pit. “I think you should both start at the beginning, yes?”

000000

It was indeed around high sun when the sound of laughter and voices filtered up the path and through the forest towards the three of them around the fire-pit. Jasper watched in curious fascination as a boy, around the same age as Andesite, ran through the totem gate, followed by Kohaku, Chrome and a young man he did not know.

The Outsider.

He could not see the young man’s features, as they were shrouded by a heavy woven cone hat, but he wore a leather coat that wasn’t of their village, though, the blue toned wrap and shorts beneath the coat were distinctly something Kohaku would have made. They had her unique embroidery of little star patterns visible in the soft blue hues.

“Jasper?” Kohaku removed the large basket she carried over her shoulders, setting it aside with a thud. It rattled with whatever contents it held. “Is Ruri okay?”

Ah—of course that was her first concern.

“She is fine.” Jasper assured. “She appreciated the meal you made.”

Kohaku beamed. She gave the Outsider a firm slap on the arm. “See! It worked out.”

“I never doubted you.” The words were strange. Jasper understood them, they were of their language, but something was different about the sounds. They were crisper and sharper.

The young man moved around Kohaku, slipping off the cone hat and playfully propping it on her head as he headed for a basin of water. Jasper frowned, still not getting a good view of the Outsider.

“Senku!” Kohaku snatched at the hat.

“Could you catch Hiroto for me? Need to wash the sunscreen off him and apply some aloe vera cream to his cheeks.”

Kohaku sighed. “He didn’t keep his hat on at all.”

“He’s eight, he doesn’t understand the importance.”

“You need to be stricter.” Kohaku chided, waggling a finger. “I’ll be back, Jasper. I just have to catch a gremlin and get him washed.”  

Jasper smiled as she darted off, chasing down the boy who was terrorizing Ginro with a tiny lizard. When he turned back to the Outsider, he was shrugging off his heavy coat from around his shoulders, letting it catch on the belt around his middle.

Jasper sucked in a sharp breath.

Water splashed. The young man scrubbed at a thick, protective layer of mud caked to his face and arms, revealing beneath unnaturally pale skin, bright like the winter sun’s first shine upon fresh snow. The eyes that shifted towards him glinted spider lily red. Ominous. Strange. Jasper raised a hand, rubbing at the tingling on his spine.

Who was this Outsider?

“Senku! I don’t want to get washed. Can I go play! Please!” The boy that Kohaku was attempting to wash free of the same thick mud paste, wiggled and jiggled about, squealing in shouting in protest.

“Hiroto, stop being a gremlin. Let Kohaku wash you.” The young man rubbed his face and arms dry. “Or I will dump you in the lake.”

“I am a space gremlin!”

“You can be a space gremlin, after I have finished.” Kohaku chided.

Jasper chuckled. “They’re a bit of a handful at this age, aren’t they?”

The Outsider gave a small snort as he flicked back his wet hair. “Oh, he’ll be a handful at whatever age.”

Kohaku finally released the boy, letting him burst off in a run, charging into the forest, shouting. “Suika! Nala! I’m back!”

Kohaku approached, holding out a small pot to The Outsider. “Right, your turn.”

The Outsider took the pot from her. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”

“Ah ha…sure…” Kohaku arched an eyebrow.

The Outsider flicked her forehead. “Now who needs to behave. Sheesh.”

He thumped himself down on a log beneath the shade of one of the main trees in the encampment and began to rub the cream from the small pot over the reddened areas of his skin. Kohaku watched him for a moment, as if confirming he was performing the action, before she swung her attention around.

Jasper straightened himself.

“I presume you are here because Magma made a report to Father.” She planted her hands on her hips.

“I am.”

“Well, you may tell Father that what I do is no longer any of his business. He excommunicated me.”

“It is his concern when it concerns the welfare of the village.” Jasper frowned, looking over at The Outsider. “You’ve brought an Outsider into our orbit, and I am being told that you have claimed him and his.”

“I have.” Kohaku raised her chin. “I presented Senku with my hut, and with my knot, and he accepted.”

The Outsider lazily raised his wrist, revealing the coloured knot, and he waved it around. “Whoopie dooo.”

Kohaku shot him a tart glare. “Stop it.”

“Make me.” He flicked out his hands mockingly as he eased up with a groan. “Oie! Chrome! Did you find the Cinnabar and the gold?”

“Yeah!” Chrome shouted from the large hut on stilts. “Want me to bring it down?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” The Outsider rubbed at his bruised shoulders.

Kohaku sighed. “Don’t push yourself. It wasn’t an easy hike on you.”

“I’m fine.” A tired smile was offered to her. “I’ll go lie down after I finish up, will that please you, Lioness?”

“It would, actually.” Her tone softened. “You barely slept last night.”

The Outsider tipped his head back. “Offer yourself as a pillow, maybe that’ll help.”

“Or I could just knock you out.” Kohaku raised a fist.

“Brutal.” With that, the Outsider replaced his hat and headed towards Chrome, who was setting up something by the fire-pit, much to the interest of Kinro and Ginro.

Jasper shifted his gaze to Kohaku again and she shuffled, a deep tint tinging her cheeks.

“Please…don’t…don’t…think ill of me.”

“I do not.” Jasper shook his head, hiding his smile. “If you have chosen him, and if he has chosen you, then I will accept this. I will be happy for you.”

Her hands tightened. “Thank you…” she whispered.

“However, perhaps…perhaps you and the boy could visit the village together, and quell some of the ill tidings that Magma is spreading.”

Her brow furrowed. Ah—that thought had not occurred to her.

“If you are seen with a child that you have claimed under your hut, then the villagers will be far less inclined to listen to Magma and Mantle’s nonsense about dangerous Outsiders. They will see just a little boy who needed a hut.”

“Yes. I see.” Kohaku nodded. “Hiroto and I will visit. He wishes to see Ruri; he has a gift for her.”

“This is acceptable.” Jasper rested a hand on her shoulder, and looked back at The Outsider as he spoke to Kinro, seemingly trying to get the young guard to part with his spear. “Just tell me…is he a good man?”

Kohaku nodded. “He does not think himself one, but he is.”

00000

Senku was well aware that he was running on fumes. The early morning hike to the Storm Mountain, had taken a good chunk out of his already low reserves. Knowing Chrome, he’d want to immediately start collecting iron sand with the gathered magnetized magnetite they’d unearthed on mountainside.

Senku sighed, looking back at the large bald mountain longingly. There was probably a huge magnetite deposit deep inside the mountain, but he didn’t have the ability to get at it, nor could he produce enough carbon for smelting a low-grade iron ore such as magnetite.

He slapped his cheeks. “You’re thinking too big. Small steps. Small steps.”

They’d had a little victory today. Just getting natural accruing magnetized magnetite was pretty cool. He’d be happy with that.

He stopped beside the tall, brown-haired brother—Kinro—who was watching Chrome set up a pot over some coals taken from their communal fire-pit.

“What is he doing?” Kinro asked.

“Science.” Senku offered. “Give me your spear.”

“No.”

“Aw, come on, I promise, it’ll be totally worth it.”

“No.”

“I promise, hand to my heart, you’ll be standing here the whole time and can watch me like a hawk.”

He could see the curiosity and intrigue shining in Kinro’s eyes. He was fascinated, but also very wary.

“It’ll be fine, Kinro.” Chrome offered.

“I do not find your assurances reassuring, Chrome.” Kinro scoffed, but, he handed his spear over. Senku took it. Wow. It was heavier than he’d expected. He supposed this was what a proper, well-crafted spear was supposed to feel like. Not one of his shoddy lame ones.

Hopefully he didn’t fuck this up and ruin a nice spear.

Heh.

“This is so fascinating…” Chrome looked up, his eyes shining brightly. “I’ve been playing around with melting this rock and making red dye out of it for our clothes, but I didn’t know it could be used for something else.”

Senku frowned. Eh. That wasn’t good. “You haven’t been breathing in the fumes, have you?”

“What are fumes?” Chrome’s brow crinkled.

“Cinnabar, or cinnabarite, consists of mercury sulfide, and mercury is toxic.” Senku nursed his head.

“Wait, am I going to die?” Chrome backed up.

“Obviously you’re still alive, you moron.” Senku rolled his eyes. “But how about you pass your future experiments by me, so I can check.”   

“Ah, yeah, that’ll be helpful.” Chrome gave a nervous laugh. “So, um…what is it what we’re doing?”

“This is called fire-gilding, also known as ormolu.” Senku finished cleaning the tip of Kinro’s spear, and moved forward to dip it into the concoction Chrome had helped make. He’d had the thought to do this when Hiroto had presented him with the old jewellery from the world-that-was. What was important to the villagers? What would they value?

Senku shifted, moving around Kinro, and held the spear tip over the heat of the coals, turning it slowly. It wouldn’t be perfect. He didn’t have access to a kiln yet, and it wasn’t as though he wanted to make ormolu popular. Not many of the artisans that had practiced it had lived past forty, after all.  

But—

It was an interesting science project.

And it was fascinating.

And—

Senku eased the spear up, smiling at the golden sheen that now coated the spear-tip. He presented the weapon back to Kinro.

“Thanks, you know, for the other night, when you stepped between Kohaku and Magma,” Senku whispered.

Kinro’s back straightened. Kinro did not ask how he knew, perhaps he presumed that Kohaku had told him, or that he had some sorcery powers—wasn’t his place to judge. Fact was, he’d simply deduced it.

“And thank you for guarding the camp.” Senku inclined his head again.  

Kinro studied the golden spear. “You are very strange.”

Senku shrugged. “Heh, aren’t we all.”

000000

Kohaku studied the interior of the hut she and Kinro had finished clearing out. She looked back at her bond-brother, “Are you sure about this?”

“Magma threatened your territory. You leave the day after morrow to the mountains to seek the healing waters again, yes?”

Kohaku nodded. She did. She would move fast, she would try to make it a quick trip. She did not trust Senku and Chrome alone. They were foolish idiots who enjoyed smashing rocks togethers to see if they could make louder, brighter, bigger bangs.

She clicked her tongue in fond annoyance.

Kinro gave her a little, playful shove with his shoulder and she puffed back her bangs. She didn’t want to say it out loud, how grateful she was that he was trading his hut in the village for a hut out here, in the encampment.

“Ginro and I will stay.” Kinro tossed out airlessly. “We will make sure the sorcerers are safe.”

“Scientists…” she muttered.

Kinro’s lips perked up.

Kohaku flung out her arms and stomped out of the hut. “Oh, fine. Move yourself here into the excommunicated camp, be one of us, see if I care if you never find a claimed one of your own.”

“I do not worry about useless things.” Kinro called after her. “What will be, will be. Such is the will of the Ancestors.”

Kohaku headed back to the communal fire-pit, where Hiroto was sitting beside Chrome and the two of them were sorting through the collection of rocks and plants they had gathered from their hike to the Storm Mountain. She ruffled Hiroto’s hair fondly.

“I shall just go and check on Senku, and then, after that, shall we go take Ruri her next meal, and you give her your gift?”

Hiroto gave a stout nod. “Yep!”

She left the two of them to their happy pile of rocks and headed for her hut, finding the weave of the front entrance down upon approach, indicating that Senku had done as she’d asked and gone to rest after he’d finished making the duck soup for Ruri.

Kohaku took a deep breath and flicked open the weave.

Senku lay on his sleeping mat, staring blankly at the ceiling, wide awake. Nala was curled up beside him, and her tail flicked irritably. Seemed neither of them were settled. Kohaku eased her way in, tucking up her skirt to kneel beside him. She waited for him to speak.

Finally he shifted, his gaze flicking towards her and her chest clenched at the unbearable look of panic he momentarily let slip.

“It’s no use…” he choked out. “I can’t stop counting.”

Kohaku thinned her lips. He’d attempted to explain what he meant by this counting, that he had spent the entirety of his time encased in the stone conscious and aware because he had kept counting. Now he struggled to stop the numbers.

This was not something she could fight, it was not a bear she could hunt down, she could not solve this for him with her blades, or her strength. It was not an enemy she understood, the curse of these numbers.

Kohaku shuffled closer. “Scoot up.” She offered.

His brow furrowed.

“You said you wanted a lap, I am here.”

“Dude, I was joking.”

“I am not.” She slapped a thigh.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a hiss. “Fine.”

Senku shuffled around, smacking down against her lap without much decorum. Kohaku rolled her eyes at his grumpy dramatics.

“Will you just trust me.” She soothed, brushing back his fringe. His cheeks were flushed and his hands bunched up tight beneath the furs.

“This is embarrassing.”

“Why?”

His brow furrowed.

“That’s…a fascinating question,” he murmured. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t care.” She offered.

“I know.” Senku whispered. “It’s refreshing.”

His head against her thigh grew heavier as his whole body relaxed into the embrace of sleep. She stayed as she was, gently brushing his temple in a rhythmic motion, until she heard the soft chirping of the late afternoon birds. He was in a solid sleep now, and she was rather confident he’d remain in it for another few hours.

Carefully she eased out from beneath him and settled his head back on the mat. She tucked the furs tighter around him. Nala’s tail flicked again and Kohaku held out her hand to the lioness. Slowly, the feline raised her head and sniffed the hand. Kohaku tensed as she was licked, and Nala rolled around, returning to her sleep. Kohaku bit her lip. She was slowly winning the feline over.

Her attention shifted to Senku. “Look after him, Nala.” Kohaku whispered.

She had found herself someone who worked himself haggard, who was willing to sacrifice his own comforts, his own body, for others around him—and he expected nothing in return.

Kohaku backed slowly out of the hut.

If he expected nothing.

Then she would give him everything.

Or at least—

She would give him the ability to peacefully sleep.

0000000

Hiroto clung to Kohaku’s skirt as they made their way through the village. It was scary. He could feel lots of people watching him, and he didn’t like it. People back in the world-that-once-was, they had never looked at him with such strange stares, even though he was different.

Kohaku was carrying a new pot of duck soup that Senku had made before he’d gone to have a nap. His brother had tried to be reassuring with a smile, but he knew better. Senku had worn himself out. He did that. If this had been the-world-that-once-was, Senku would have been in hospital again. Dad would have been in a panic. Taiju would be pacing around, blaming himself. Yuzuriha would be crying.

Hiroto touched his chest, feeling the scar beneath the pretty shirt Kohaku had made him.

This was all very different.

It was confusing.

He felt very dizzy.

Kohaku crouched suddenly. Hiroto stumbled. Her bright, shining eyes swallowed him.

“Your brother is fine. I promise. He just hasn’t been sleeping. I made sure he got to sleep.”

“The numbers?” Hiroto asked.

Kohaku nodded. She stood again, propping the cooking pot on her head to balance it, and she took his hand. Hiroto admired the skill. Would she teach him?

“Of course I can teach you.”

“Oh…oh, did I say that out loud…” Hiroto gasped.

Kohaku laughed. “Just like your brother.”

Hiroto bit his lip, giggling at the thought of Senku sometimes forgetting that his mouth was connected to his brain, and that he had to turn one of them off, otherwise naughty things came blurting out.

“Since I claimed you under my hut, it is my job to teach you the skills to live. I was raised as a hunter, and village guardian. These are skills I can teach.”

Hiroto’s brow crinkled. “Can you…can you teach me how to protect Senku?”

“Oh, hoshi...” She halted her walk.

“I don’t want him to die again!” Hiroto squeezed his fists tight.

“I know.” Kohaku settled a hand on his head. “Well, I’ll talk to Senku, and see what he says.”

“Okay!” Hiroto beamed.

The lanterns and the coloured prayer flags strung throughout the village were so pretty, especially in the sunset that shimmered off the lake. Kohaku led him over several suspension bridges between the assorted islands. The islands had scary sharp cliff edges, with drops straight down into the lake, so the bridges were the only means of reaching each island. It made sense then, that the bridges had guards, and that they had pretty entrances and names that Kohaku told him. It rather reminded him of how some important streets would have names.

They came to a very special looking bridge, filled with thousands upon thousands of wind-charms strung along its ropes and planks. There was barely a breeze in the cool evening, but even the softest of air rustled the chimes in a beautiful, harmonious—but—lonely melody.

“Starway Bridge.” Kohaku offered. “It leads to Temple Island.”

That must have been the glow in the distance, the shine of more huts lit by fire-oil lanterns. One such light was getting closer and closer, and the bridge began to rattle and bounce. Kohaku shifted him behind her in the smallest protective move.

“Kohaku!” A boy shouted as he became visible upon the bridge. “Dad said you were coming! Do you have more of the duck soup. It was really delicious.”

Kohaku gave warm laugh. “I see, so, we are not just feeding my sister, but the whole Temple Island.”

“Can’t let good food go to waste.” Came the chirpy reply. Hiroto giggled. Now he knew what the boy reminded him of. He was like a little robin, bouncing and skipping about, making all the shells he wore jingle and chime.

Hiroto stuck his head out from behind Kohaku. Her hand settled on his head, and he looked up at her, she had a soft, kind smile of reassurance.

“It’s alright, Hiroto. This is just Andesite. He is Jasper’s son. You’re actually about the same age.”

Hiroto shuffled up against Kohaku, clutching at her leg. Andesite tried to peer around her. Hiroto gasped, ducking deeper into Kohaku’s skirt.

“Um. Is he made of snow?” Andesite asked.

“No!” Hiroto burst out. “I’m not a snowman! I’m just me.”

“Do you like to play soccer?” Andesite asked.

Hiroto blinked. Soccer? They—they knew what soccer was—how—how did they—

“Um. Yes.” Hiroto squeaked.

“You can play with us.” Andesite twirled around, making the lantern he carried bounce. “You can be on my team.”

Kohaku followed the boy and Hiroto clutched at her skirt, trying not to look down at the deep fall into the lake below as they crossed the bridge. Soon after the bridge Andesite led them to a long log hut, and a man stood outside on the porch. Andesite dashed up to him.

“Dad! I found Kohaku!”

“Thank you, Andy.”

Jasper was a man he had met earlier in the day, tall and lean, with greying hair and beard. He must have been like Dad, going grey early, which Dad had always blamed on stress.

“Kohaku, Hiroto, blessed evening.” Jasper inclined his head.

“And to you, Jasper.” Kohaku passed over the pot of duck soup. “Do we have your permission to visit the Temple?”

“Of course.” He inclined his head as he ducked into a small hut. “Your sister is looking forward to the visit. Andy, how about you lead them.”

They followed Andesite and his lantern through what was probably a pretty garden, but not much of it was visible with the evening sun now behind the mountains. The new world was dark, even with the lanterns that the villagers had. Hiroto sighed. He missed Tokyo and its forever glow.

They passed by several large totem poles, complexly carved, but he couldn’t really make out what they were depicting in the dark. It was only when they emerged from the bushy trees and shrubs that a warm, soft glow filled the world again. Hiroto halted, staring up at the Temple Hut, strung with lanterns. It had to have taken ages to light all of them! He had to tell Senku that the villagers really needed electricity.

Hiroto cocked his head at the Temple Hut. It looked—strange—different—He squinted his eyes at it. That was weird. It looked really familiar to pictures he’d seen in books and on the television. Hiroto clutched his hands.

He knew the silhouette.

He’d have known it anywhere.

He’d had that on his wall at home, amongst his zillion’s of Pokemon posters, Dinosaur drawings and space prints.

“It’s a Luna Lander…” he whispered.

Kohaku looked back at him. “Hiroto?”

Hiroto startled, giving a gasp. “Oh, it’s nothing.” He shook his head.

He would need to tell Senku about this. Hiroto quickly dashed after Kohaku and Andesite.

Andesite burst up the stairs of the Temple Hut with great speed. “Ruri! Kohaku is here!”

“Hoshi, no running in the Temple!” A loud shout came from inside the hut.

Hiroto looked up at Kohaku. “You call me hoshi.”

“It is what we call our children.”

“Ohhhh…okay.” Hiroto followed her up the stairs with a skip.

The temple was just as sparkly and well-lit inside. Hiroto twirled around on his feet. Whoa. Tapestries! Or—sort of—the walls were covered in layers of heavy furs to keep in the heat during winter, and make the hut cool in summer, but over the top of the furs lay intricately woven draperies. He stopped in front of one, reaching out to brush a finger against the stitching.

Silk.

It was silk.

“Do you like them?”

Someone asked. A voice a little bit like Kohaku’s, but softer.

Hiroto nodded. “They’re beautiful.”

“It is the task of each generation of Priest or Priestess to finish one, to continue adding to the history of our people.”

“Wait…this tells a story?” Hiroto looked around, finding himself in front of a tall lady in a soft white, sheer dress, and lots and lots of shells hanging all over her like dazzling dew drops.

She stepped forward, brushing her hands over the tapestry. “It does, the history of Our People. I am the Keeper, and the Teller of the Hundred Tales.”

“That sounds a bit lonely.”

“It is a little bit, but it is a very important task.” She crouched down and poked his nose. “So, you must be Hiroto.”

He nodded stoutly. “Yep!”

“I’m Ruri.”

“I figured.” Hiroto shrugged.

She gave a delighted laugh and looked over his shoulder. “Oh goodness, Kohaku, he’s adorable.”

“I am not.” Hiroto huffed.

Kohaku gave him a gentle nudge with her foot. “You have something for the Priestess.”

“Oh…oh, yes, I do.” Hiroto shuffled around in his treasure pouch, sticking out his tongue as he found the little box Senku had carved up for him to put the pretty bracelet in. He held it out to Ruri. “I found this, it is from the-world-that-was, it really pretty, Senku says it was probably super expensive…I think that means it was special.” Hiroto puffed out his cheeks.

Ruri took the small box, twisting the wooden lid to open it. Her smile brightened. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Hiroto.”

“It’s a bracelet.” He clarified; just encase she didn’t know.

“Thank you. I will treasure the gift from the world-that-once-was.”

“I will try to find more.” Hiroto beamed.

Kohaku settled a hand on his head. “I am sorry we cannot stay longer, sister, but we must also stop by old-man Kaseki’s hut.”

“Ah, yes…” Ruri stood, giving a small nod. “Kaseki will be most intrigued by your treasures.”

Hiroto grinned. “Treasure is the best!”

Ruri curled her fingers through the bracelet, smiling down at him with a curiously distant look in her bright blue eyes. “I know a very wonderful tale about a hidden pirate treasure.”

“You do!” Hiroto gasped. Ohhhh!

He needed to hear this story! Yay! Pirates. Pirates. Pirates!

“Nope!” Kohaku swept him up and over her shoulder. “We’re off.”

Hiroto burst into laughter as she twirled him around, and around, and around, just like Dad had once done and Senku tried to do.

“Bye sister!” Kohaku bounced them down the stairs of the Temple Hut.

Ruri waved from the entrance. “Be well!”

Hiroto waved back at the Priestess inside the Luna Lander.

0000

Ruri was looking a little brighter. Kohaku nodded, then, slowly, her shoulder’s deflated. Or was she just trying to be positive. Oh—it was awful—she hated this heavy feeling in her stomach. Taking a deep, solidifying breath, she passed through the totem gate into the main square. There was still a bustling thrum in the early evening as the warm spring air was appreciated and meals were made outside.

Hiroto twirled around beside her, seemingly far more fascinated by the lanterns than anything else.

“You seem to like the lanterns?” she asked.

“Lights remind me of Tokyo at night. It was always so bright. Senku said it was a city that never, ever slept. This new world, it is very dark.”

Kohaku looked up at the sky. She’d never really thought about the world being dark, not when the sky was so bright at night. She didn’t really understand this concept of a world of eternal day, not how Senku and Hiroto described it to be. Hiroto gave a sudden squeak and latched onto her leg as Andesite rushed past, carrying a ball. He skipped to a halt and spun around.

“Kohaku, can Hiroto come play with us!?”

Hiroto began vibrating in excitement, in a very Chrome manner. Oh—this was what he’d been wanting, to play with children his own age. She couldn’t not let him go play. She crouched down. “Give me your treasure pouch and I will go see old-man Kaseki, but I want you to stay close to Andesite, and don’t leave the town square. Is that clear?” she looked up at Andesite, who gave her a stout nod of understanding.

Hiroto handed over his pouch and grinned. “Thanks Kohaku!” He dashed off with Andesite and Kohaku smiled as she turned towards a small hut, flipping through the open doorway and rapping her knuckles on the doorframe.

“Kaseki, you in?”

“Ah. Kohaku, how delightful…” from his spot beside a chaotic workstation on the floor of the hut, old-man Kaseki eased around to reveal his kind smile, etched into his features by deep wrinkles. Though age had stiffened his bones and thinned out his skin, there was still such a brilliant and wild shine to his eyes that was enrapturing. He was still young at heart, still a young man full of dreams and inventions—

Still—

She saw so much of Chrome—

Or—

Was it the other way around—

So much of Kaseki was in Chrome, but Kaseki—Kaseki had simply bowed to the oppression and will of the village, conforming to the normalcy. Chrome had been incapable of complying, even under Kaseki’s tutelage.

“What do I owe the pleasure of his visit.” Kaseki chuckled. “Chrome hasn’t gotten himself into more trouble, has he?”

Kohaku rolled her eyes. “No, no, nothing like that.” She tucked her knees beneath her, smoothing out her skirt. “I…I actually come with a request.” Kohaku tipped out Hiroto’s treasure pouch, letting the assortment of coins and twinkling gold remnants fall onto the floor between them.

Kaseki’s brow lifted in surprise. He picked up one of the coins, studying it curiously.

“We wish to have an item that can make those within the excommunication encampment easily identifiable, could you fashion these into earrings of some sort?”

“I see, what an interesting notion.” He rubbed at his beard.

“My claimed one says it will bring us a sense of companionship.”

Kaseki looked at her down his nose. “I heard a rumour about you claiming an Outsider, is this true?”

Kohaku huffed, crossing her arms. “My business is my own.”

“Leave these with me, I shall see what I can do, but in return, I would appreciate it if Chrome could fashion me some of his paints, I am almost out.” Kaseki looked to the small pots by his workstation. “That boy has a talent for making brilliant colours.”

Kohaku nodded. “That can be arranged.” She shuffled closer. “What are you working on?”

“The main totem gate needs mending, the rot got to it again.” Kaseki sighed, holding up the wooden carving to her. Kohaku took the intricate design, not entirely sure what any of the etchings symbolized. Much of their way of life was like that now, fading into a mist. Kaseki—when Kaseki passed into the stars to join the Ancestors, would anyone be left to mend that which rotted.

No—

Why was she thinking like this.

Senku would help.

She brushed at her damp cheeks. Kaseki’s worn, roughened hands wrapped around hers. They shared a mirroring smile.

“Thank you, Kaseki.” She stood, giving a curt bow.

“Bing me back my paint.” He tossed a wave at her and she ducked back out of the hut into the evening. Her skin prickled at the cool touch of air. The nights still had a bit of a bite to them. Happy laughter drew her attention to Hiroto, happily kicking the leather ball around with Andesite and a few of the other children beneath the glow of the village lanterns in the main square. If it weren’t for his occasional strange speech patterns, she honestly could have simply mistaken him for another of the village children, even with his odd colouring.

He was just a child, but—but he also wasn’t—he wasn’t like the children of their village. He hadn’t learnt any of the skills to survive this world that was so new to him. Her chest tightened. She needed to fix this.

Chapter Text

Senku paused from braiding his hair. Kohaku watched as he raised his head from between his knees and looked up at her with an honest look of confusion and surprise.

“Hiroto wants to what?”

“He wishes to learn the blade.”

Senku blew a rasp. “Right…sure…”

“This is serious.” Kohaku frowned. Perhaps cornering him in the early morning hours hadn’t been the best idea, but, it truly seemed like the only time to speak alone.

“He’s eight.”

“And he should be accompanying me on hunts by now, yes. He is already behind. We shall fix this. He is a fast learner.”

“Wait, wait, hold up.”

“He shall come with me to the mountain to fetch the healing water.”

“And when in the Tarantula fucking Nebula was this decided.” He deadpanned.

“Right now.” Actually, she’d decided it the night prior, but Senku had been solidly asleep, thus she had been unable to tell him of her decision then. He looked much better for the long rest he had received, with far less haggard shadows cut deep around his eyes.

“No it wasn’t. Kohaku, this is not how a discussion goes.” Senku waved between them. “If you want this…understanding…or whatever you call it…to work, we need proper communication.”

“That is why we are talking.”

“No, you’re not talking to me, you’re telling me.” He pounded a finger against the floor, making a hollow sound. “That is not a discussion.”

Kohaku paused. “I see.” Perhaps she was acting like her father. She winced. Oh—that was an uncomfortable thought.

“Well that’s good.” He scrubbed at his invisible stubble in irritation.

“So you do not wish Hiroto to learn.”

“No. That’s not what I said, actually, I haven’t said jack-shite about the topic, have I, cause you haven’t let me have a moment to say anything…or think.”

Kohaku took a deep breath. “I apologise.”

“Thank you.” Senku flicked a hand out at her. “Hiroto…Hiroto has…or had…a similar heart abnormality to me. My reluctance isn’t that I don’t want him to learn from you, or that I do not think he should learn such skills from you…I need you to understand, you see him as he is now, but I am in constant fear that his heart will give out. If…if anything happened…” Senku swallowed. “I couldn’t save him. I doubt we’ll have that ability…for…a long time.”

Senku raised a hand to his chest and sighed. “I still don’t even understand what transpired that healed us. The things I’ve done over the past few years, would have killed me if I’d even attempted them in the world-that-once-was.”

He was trapped. She could see it, suddenly, so clearly. An ensnarement was tangled around him, and it was limiting him; the ensnarement of the past. He didn’t see himself as he now was, he still saw who he had once been.

He was a star, who needed to stop falling.  

Yes. It was good, it was a good thing they had this discussion. Good for them both.

“Senku, you cannot keep thinking as you did in the world-that-once-was.” Kohaku crouched in front of him. “Hiroto must adapt to this world, you both must.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m trying to bring my world back.”

She seized his hands. “And how long will that take? Will you deny him and you a lifetime well-lived as you chase that which-once-was? Please, do not linger in the decay of the past, or the mirage of the future. Already you have lingered so long…waste not more time, don’t be shackled by a burden that is not yours alone to carry.”

She felt the twitch of his fingers. “Your points are solid, I get it…I just…”

Senku dropped his shoulders back. “If he wants to learn how to use a sword, I won’t stop him, but the way he wails on about murdering ducks and rabbits, you’ve got some work ahead.”

“He has a strong goal, and a strong goal is very empowering.”

“A goal, heh?”

Kohaku nodded. “He wishes to protect you.”

Senku drew quiet for a moment, before whispering. “I see. Is that so.”

Kohaku tipped her head up. “I understand that you worry for his health, if I notice anything, we will cease, and of course, if you feel it is too much, I will adhere to your advice.”

“Fine. Fine. Okay. Discussion ended.” He grumbled.  

“We will only be gone a night.” She pressed again, trying to reassure.

“Don’t rush back on my account.” He rolled his eyes, returning to his hair. Kohaku bit her bottom lip and shuffled.

He glanced up at her. “What now?”

“No, I…um…” she tangled a hand through her fringe. “Could you…could you braid my hair.”

He leant back on his hands. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it. Should I give you a treat.”

She kicked him. “You’re awful.”

“Sit your arse down, Lioness.” Senku slapped the spot between his legs.

Kohaku couldn’t help herself, she bounced and twirled, and heard honest laughter from him. “I think you’re a little bit too excited for this.”

“My hair is…impossible…” she huffed. “I mean…it’s…it’s not like I care.”

“You do.” He picked up a comb and practically dragged her head backwards at the force of his movement through her knotted-up locks. Kohaku stared up at him as he smirked down at her. “And for what it’s worth, I think you have beautiful hair.” He was too close. Why—why did it feel like he was too close. More the question, why did she like him so close?

“I’ll make you up some oils, that’ll help with the dryness.” He eased her head back down and began to carefully comb out the knots.

Kohaku crinkled her brow. “You can do that?”

“Heh. Honestly, one of the easier things to do on my list of things to do.”

“I’m…sorry…”

“Why?”

“I…”

“Look at us, having a discussion.” He tapped her head with the comb. “It works better when you talk. Or so I have been informed.”

“I simply feel that I give you only work.”

“Then you’re not seeing yourself from my perspective.” Senku offered. “You coming into my life when you did, it was a one billion percent chance occurrence that won’t ever reoccur in any other parallel universe. Our timeline is unique.”

She had no idea what he was saying, but it felt finite to him, as though he was whispering some spell that would root them together for all eternity.

“Don’t apologise for the marvelousness of an un-destined universe, of the uniqueness of being two humans on a tiny blue planet, hurdling through a vast, ever-expanding expanse.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” she whispered. “But it’s beautiful.”

He chuckled.

“What I’m trying to say is; I don’t give a shite about how much work there is to do, because in the end, we come, we go, we do.”

Kohaku clenched her hands in her lap. “Never stop talking…”

“Don’t stop listening.” He raked a hand through her hair, making her back tingle. She wasn’t sure what he was doing to her hair, but it was fine, she was perfectly happy to sit here and stare out the hut doorway into the encampment as the morning light crept over the mountains.

“Where do all your words come from?”

“My words?” he sounded momentarily perplexed. “Ah. That’s an interesting way of phrasing it. I guess…I read very fast, which meant I could absorb a lot of information rapidly. When I was a kid, Dad wasn’t sure where to put me while he lectured, so he’d dump me in the University Library. I read everything I could…even about hair.” He looped a leather tie around the final braid. “That’s it, that’s my super amazing superpower. I’m just really well read.” He mockingly flapped his hands around.

She turned to face him, shaking her head. “I…”

“Still don’t understand,” he offered gently.

Kohaku nodded.

“It’s okay. Over time, you will.” His thumb briefly brushed at her cheek before he hoisted himself up and stretched, his gaze shifting to the world outside their hut. “Now…think Chrome is up yet, I’d prefer to get to work before the sun is high over the mountains.”

Kohaku shook her head. “Chrome and Hiroto have been up since far before dawn.”

“They have?” His voice pitched.

She nodded. “They started searching for this…iron…sand…”

Chrome’s excitement for a new discovery had been matched only by Hiroto’s thrill of showing him how to discover it. The two had run off cackling to the river.

“Hiroto could drown! Shite! Shite. Shite.” Senku grabbed for his coat, yanking it on.

“Chrome is with him. Stop worrying.”

“Yeah, and Chrome could drown!” Senku shouted. “Kohaku! Why didn’t you tell me!”

She watched him run and sighed at his franticness. He professed not to care about anything or anyone, but goodness, he could really run fast when he was worried.

00000

Kohaku’s already extremely translucent blue, two-piece wrap, one hundred percent became basically invisible when wet. Senku pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. He was completely capable of handling this situation.

Totally. Capable.

“Chrome.”

“Ah, yeah?”

“Is this normal?”

“Is what normal?” Chrome looked at him in confusion.

Oh—fuck—it was normal.

If he said anything, he risked upsetting a totally normal cultural paradigm with his shite modern predispositions—wait—modern—or—old—or—

“Fuck.”

“What does that word mean?” Chrome wondered.

“Irrelevant.” Senku muttered, pulling his hat down.

“It means irrelevant?” Chrome innocently parroted.

Yeah, sure, let him think that. Couldn’t be bothered correcting him, too busy trying not to stare at the frolicking warrior goddess he was apparently in some sort of quasi-courting-relationship with, because he could totally pull that minor miracle off.

Yeah nah.

Who was he kidding.

He was going to fail this whole simulation.

According to his brain, she was literally the most beautiful human on this planet, so why was she smiling at him as if he somehow brought her joy. That was impossible, right?

Kohaku bounced through the river shallows with Hiroto and Nala, laughing and squealing as water splayed about everywhere. Senku shook his head at the three of them. They had completely abandoned the mission—well—he couldn’t blame Nala for that, she was a domesticated giant cat. Hiroto rather did deserve the break, considering the brat had been out here since before dawn, and had proven to be rather good at collecting iron sand. Probably because he was the closet of them to the fucking ground and didn’t need to lean over so far.

He rolled his eyes and bent over, lowering the magnetized magnetite into the shallows, letting it pick up the fine grains of magnetite, washed into the river from the Storm Mountain. This was monotonous work, but it had to be done. He moved to wipe the iron sand into the nearby gathering pot, but barely made it a step forward.

Next thing he knew, he was upturned and sprawled out in the shallows, water lapping around him as Kohaku pinned him to the riverbed.

“Hey.” She grinned.

“Is there a point to this?” He drawled, attempting to tip his head back and far as he could, away from her chest.

“Ah, yeah. It’s fun.” She splashed about.

Senku curled his toes against the sandy riverbed.

Heh.

Help. Taiju. Help. What the fuck had Taiju said about girls? Why had he ever drowned out those conversations? It was also extremely weird that none of the books he’d ever read over the years had given any indicators about these types of situations.

Dude.

Did that mean he had to actually be himself.

His real self was so—

He bought his hands up abruptly beneath her underarms, startling her as he made a forceful, twisting movement that would only work once. Taiju had forced both himself and Yuzuriha to learn the action over—and over—

A momentary seizing of weight distribution, so that someone far weaker could briefly gain a chance to flee. Fascinatingly enough, it was far easier to do with Kohaku than it’d ever been with Taiju and he had to wonder if that was simply due to her being just a bit lighter, or that her weight was distributed differently than Taiju’s hulking male frame. Or—had he gotten stronger?

He pressed down over her, watching in delight as her face burned bright red. “Ah, see,” he squeezed her hands. “Bit different when I’m the one on top, isn’t it.”

Her chest expanded in a sharp, heavy intake of breath. It was very much his cue to hoist himself up and off her. Fun and games was fine, but he was not—under any circumstances—allowing himself to get carried away around other people. Ick. He shook the uncomfortable twitching feeling off his shoulders.

“I would offer you a hand,” he joked down at Kohaku as he bent over to snatch up the magnetite rock. “But we both know how that’d go.”

He’d just end up on his knees and she’d be happily dancing around him again. So no. Not happening. He wasn’t going to be a gentleman. Screw that shite.

She splashed him instead.

“Very mature.” He looked around for his hat, noticing it caught in the reeds nearby. “Hiroto! Hiroto, can you get my hat for me?” Senku shouted.

“Yes!” Hiroto tore through the water. “Come back hat!”

Senku slapped the rock into Kohaku’s hand. “I’ve had my allotted time in the sun, you can take over while I sit in the shade for a bit.”

“Fine.” She bent over, shoving the magnetized magnetite into the river. “But at least be useful and weave us some baskets or something.”

“Or something.” He sloshed his way through the shallows, snatching his hat from Hiroto as his little brother stuck his head out of the reeds. Senku motioned to the nearby tree where their gear was waiting. “Come on, shade time.”

“Booooo.”

“Hiroto. I mean it. We can’t risk getting sunburnt.” Or any more sunburnt than they already were. Sheesh. He felt like he was on fire most of the time now.

Hiroto flopped about. “Fine!”

Senku shook his head at the brat’s antics. “Here, weave some baskets.” He dumped a pile of silver grass in front of Hiroto and sat himself down on a mat, pulling over his own pack to find the handmade paper and some charcoal sticks.

Hiroto crinkled up his nose. “What are you doing?”

“Working out the schematics of our future hut, and maybe a new laboratory as well.” Also the bloomery, and the trompe system for the iron smelting, but he was finding himself a bit finicky about their new hut—and it had nothing to do with impressing Kohaku, or, so he kept telling himself.

“Whoooo.” Hiroto bounced.

“Exciting, yes.” Senku grinned.

Hiroto nodded. “Everything is exciting!”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, bub.” Senku returned to his sketching. A few minutes later, he was forced to stop as Hiroto wiggled into his lap, picking up his arm to lay it over him and idly fiddle with his charcoal-stained fingers.

Senku swallowed. This—this was something Hiroto had done with Byakuya. He’d seen the two of them sitting on the couch, watching television. Byakuya’s hours were long, and he was often exhausted, but he’d done everything he could to be a good father to them both. So often Byakuya had put them first and himself second—

It was why—

It was why they’d made the decision to send him to space, because he’d given so much to them.

Senku sighed. “Okay…it’s time we talked about it.”

Hiroto looked up at him.

Senku gave an uneasy lift of his shoulders. “What happened at on The Mountain, yeah?”

“Oh.” Hiroto curled up, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Which is why we’re going to.” Senku looked out across the river, to Chrome and Kohaku having some sort of intense discussion that involved a lot of water. “Remember how Dad always said how it was easier to process an emotion if you try to verbally express it, and then you can scrunch it up and toss it away if you don’t need it.”

Hiroto shook his head.

“Hm. Well, that’s something he said to me. Probably because I am lame at it.”

“You’re not good at something.” Hiroto gasped.

“I’m not good at a lot of things, bub.” Senku whispered conspiratorially.

Hiroto giggled.

“Kohaku mentioned that you want to learn from her because you want to protect me.”

Hiroto stopped giggling. He rolled up again.

“Hiroto.” Senku reached out. Hiroto shuffled about.

Senku scrunched a hand through his hair. He wasn’t equipped for this.

“I’m sorry, Hiroto. I didn’t want you to see what happened on the mountain, but, I guess it’s still been weighing on you.”

Hiroto turned to face him, face pink and flushed, cheeks damp with tears.

“I didn’t want to run, Senku! I didn’t! I was so scared!” Hiroto clambered about roughly in his lap. “Tsukasa was scary.”

“I know.” Senku soothed a hand over Hiroto’s back. “I’m sorry, bub. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to be in this place. I want to go home! I hate this new world. I want the old one! Can we go back? Please! Please, Senku. Can we just go home.”

Senku swallowed the lump in his throat. It was no use, his eyes burned with tears, and there was simply no way he could halt their stinging. The droplets got lost somewhere in the collar of his coat. Such a simple, raw wish of a child—to go home—to go back—to the old world—

It was guttural and honest, and in his heart, he wished it too.

“Don’t be scared…” he huddled Hiroto in tighter, needing his very presence to solve all the problems the boy would grow up to face in this new world. “I’m right here.”

“But you might vanish! You might leave me again.” Hiroto sobbed. “What…what will I do! You’ll go away, like Dad! I’ll be all alone!”

No. He refused that future for them. They would not be alone.

“Hey, hey, you know, us Ishigami Boys, we have to stick together…” Senku motioned out at Chrome and Kohaku amongst the shimmering water of the river. “But…” he smiled down at Hiroto. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room in our hearts for a whole lot of people.”

Hiroto snuggled tighter into his coat. “I guess so.”

“I know so.” Senku tweaked Hiroto’s ear. “After all,” Senku breathed out. “Dad adopted us. He was…he was…” Senku gave a small scoff. He let his last word hang. It didn’t need to be said.

“Incredible.” Hiroto whispered.

Senku swallowed the lump in his throat.

00000

It was before dawn, and a low mist hung around their ankles as they walked through the encampment, carrying their fish-oil lanterns. Hiroto was buzzing with an excited thrill that was making him vibrate like a toy electric car.

Senku cocked his head at Kohaku. “You absolutely positive you’re prepared to manage chaos theory itself?” He splayed his hands out at Hiroto.

Hiroto flung up his arms. “I can predict the future with the power of mathematics.” He spun around, giggling in a rather ominous manner.

Senku pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking psychohistory shite.”

“We shall be fine.” Kohaku shuffled the straps of the large, empty vessel for the precious hot spring water against her shoulders. Senku reached out to help loosen them. He’d be unimpressed by the weight distribution, finding scarring on her shoulders from the straps, though he wasn’t entirely sure if his quick padding was going to do much by way of improving the journey. “It is you I worry for,” she whispered.

“I’ve got enough to keep me occupied, and your tall-dark and handsome guard-dog is going to be annoying the shite out of me, so, don’t fuss.”

Kohaku pouted. “Kinro is not my guard-dog.”

Senku arched an eyebrow and tipped his head back over at the warrior stationed by the totem gate. Nope. He was totally their guard-dog. Kinro was a proud wolf, Ginro was a lazy labrador. Summed the two brothers and their current roles rather perfectly.

Senku crouched down, placing a hand on Hiroto’s head. “Now…you obey Kohaku, and don’t leave her sight.”

“I know.”

“Hiroto. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Senku sighed.

This was—

Different.

He’d let Hiroto roam around so much back at the old forest camp, but the brat had always been in shouting distance, or somewhere in his peripheral. Being away from his little brother felt—

It felt weird and wrong.

But—

He was somewhat aware that it was probably a good thing for them to learn to be apart. Life changed. It was dangerous. This world was dangerous. Kohaku was right—Hiroto needed to learn the ways of this new world.

Senku tweaked Hiroto’s nose. 

“You wear your hat when the sun comes up.”

“I will.” Hiroto nodded. “I promise.”

He eased onto his feet again. Nala rubbed her way around his legs, and he scratched behind an ear as she dipped against him. “Watch them for me…”

It wasn’t like she could understand a word he said, but it was nice to pretend that she could.

Hiroto flung his arms up. “Adventure! I am going to become a pokemon master!”

Kohaku looked thoughtful. “You must tell me of these pokemon.”

“Oh, he is going to talk about them until your ears bleed.” Senku mocked. “Enjoy.”

Kohaku’s hand brushed his, a single finger tangling up and tugging to linger betwixt them. “We’ll see you in two days.” She assured.

“I’ll hold you to that.” His arm followed hers as she moved away, and their single entwined fingers unlinked, making him wince at the illusion of a snapping sensation. Senku tracked the glow of their lantern as they passed the totem gate and headed into the darkness of the pre-dawn shrouded forest. Kinro slowly approached him, coming to stand by his side. The tall spearman didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, just his solid and real presence was enough in the darkness of the eerie new world.

00000

Chrome set the clay pot down. “Is this enough iron sand?”

Senku stared into the pot and gave a small snort at the pathetic offering. “Ah, no.” He snarked drily.

“Seriously?” Chrome deflated. “But we’ve been at this forever.”

“Yep. Keep going.” Senku gave a dismissive wave.

“You’re not going to help?” Chrome bemoaned.

“In this sunshine? Hell no. My skinny arse is staying in the shade until at least fifteen hundred.” Senku gave the mat he sat on beneath the shade of the largest tree on the river bank a good slap.

“I bet if Kohaku was here, you’d be out there helping,” Chrome grumbled.

Senku slowly looked up from his sketching. “Stop being a whiny piss baby. I pulled my hours early this morning.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” Senku motioned to the pot beside him. “Filled a whole arse pot. Now, stop whinging about science work, and just go work.”

“When do we get to the fun stuff.” Chrome lamented, wailing his arms about.

“That’s not how you should view science, Chrome.” Senku set his paper and charcoal aside. “Everything we do is a process, and often the results require long, meticulous days of waiting, or boredom…you should know this.”

“I do…I just…I donno, I sort of expected…”

“That I’d somehow magically expedite the process?”

Chrome shrugged. “I guess…”

“To a degree, yes, we’re leaping forward millions of years to even make antibiotics in this…environment…but to even do so, takes time and patience. We need some…kinda basic infrastructure.”

“Would you believe that I’ve never…really been patient…” Chrome tapped off iron sand into his pot, his shoulder’s sagging in defeat. “I couldn’t even make a good artisan apprentice.”

As brilliant as Chrome was, he was sporadic, to a rather concerning degree—if Senku was being honest. It was something Senku had noticed the moment he’d looked around the Treasure Hut. Chrome had a rather difficult time remaining focused on one vein of exploration. He bounced from discovery to discovery, never quite lingering long enough to unravel every treasure.

Since he’d noticed it, he’d taken steps to accommodate for it. He never actually forced Chrome into long, uninteresting labour that he’d struggle with—this though—this was probably Chrome’s first big test. Chrome had to overcome it.

“I fail at everything.” Chrome deflated.

“Pretty sure that’s not true. Kohaku mentioned something about you making amazing paints.”

Which held some concerns, but he was going to put that worry aside for another time and not focus on the negative right now. He had enough emotional intelligence to know Chrome was needing encouragement and not criticism.

“Well, yeah…I guess…” Chrome shrugged.

“And you rebuilt the huts in the encampment yourself.”

“They were awful!” Chrome bemoaned. “I had to do something, or we’d be living in squalor.”

“That’s not failure, you idiot.” Senku gestured at him. “Not to worry, we’ll make a brilliant scientist out of you.” Senku popped his lips, picking up his sketching once more.

Chrome gave him a small smile. “What are you doing?”

“Rudimentary designs for the expansion of our little satellite settlement…which…we need a name for…”

“It’s never had a name.”

“Have a think about it, heh.” Senku shrugged. “It’s your home…I think you should have the honour of naming it.”

“Okay. Um…I’ll really have to think about this…” Chrome tapped his chin as he headed back into the river.

Senku chuckled, picking up his sketch-pad once more.  

It was very strange to be without Hiroto, and Senku found himself constantly jostling in alarm, expecting to find his little brother somewhere nearby. Instead, he had to remind his hyperaware brain that no—nope—sibling was not currently within shouting distance.

This was—

So bizarre—

Ever since Byakuya had brought Hiroto home, Senku had been constantly aware of him. The responsibility of a big brother was enormous, after all, one didn’t just dismiss the weight of being the eldest. Their family might not have been one of blood relations, but that wasn’t what held Ishigami’s together. There was a wonder beyond science, the bond forged between humans who chose each other.

Senku sighed down at his charcoal sketches. He had finally settled on the layout of their hut and laboratory, now it was just a matter of figuring out materials.

“Bricks…” he murmured, tapping the charcoal to his chin. “I wonder if Kinro could help me make bricks.”

He startled again, jerking his attention up. Nope. Okay—this time he’d definitely seen something. It might not have been Hiroto, but it was someone just as small as his little brother.

Suika.

Senku slowly tucked a knee under his chin, cocking his head to the side. She was a worrisome little thing, all skin and bones in an obvious state of malnutrition. He’d seen her occasionally stealing from their supplies, or sometimes Hiroto would think he was being sneaky and leave things out for her. It was amusing, what children thought they got away with. He watched curiously as she studied one of the magnetite rocks Chrome had left out and began to shuffle through the river shallows, mimicking Chrome’s actions in picking up the iron sand. Her happiness at her success made her twirl about, the melon she wore doing a little spin.

Senku slowly eased himself up.

He couldn’t fuck this up.

This was important.

Kohaku kept mentioning that this girl was some sort of wild forest child, which he was presuming meant she lived in the forest as an orphan. Her clothes were tatty and far too small on her already frail body, indicating she really needed new clothing. Her shoes—those Hiroto had made for her.

But mostly, he was just worried about her malnutrition.

“Hey Suika…” he crouched in the river’s whitewater.

Her shoulder’s curled up tight in panic, but she didn’t flee, though she had every indicator of someone who wanted too. He waited, patiently, for her to slowly unravel that natural response.

“I’m sorry…” her soft voice was muffled by the melon she wore. “I…I…didn’t mean to ruin your work.”

“You haven’t ruined anything.” He took the magnetite rock she’d dropped, handing it back to her. “I would be very grateful for your help.”

“Really?” she gasped. “I can help?”

“Of course.” He assured. “The Kingdom of Science welcomes you.”

“But I’m…”

“I claim you.” Senku placed a hand on her melon, giving it a fond tap. “Is that how it goes? Rather new at your traditions.”

She nodded; the melon bounced about. “Yes.”

“There we go then.” He stood, rubbing at his ear. “Easier than what my Dad had to do, that’s for sure.” Senku took Suika’s tiny hand, and he smiled.

000000

Senku felt the furs shift beside him. He eased himself around wearily as Kohaku shuffled about in the darkness of their hut, tucking herself down onto the bed mat.

“Welcome home or something,” he mumbled. “You’re late.”

She smelt like she’d been in the scented bath with her sister, which was probably why she had returned far later than Hiroto’s earlier arrival. He hadn’t realised how uneasy and wound up he’d been for the past two days until Hiroto had run through the totem gate with Nala on his tail and bulldozed right into him. It’d been a release of inward emotions he hadn’t even known he’d been bottling up. So—much—anxiety. Shite. Was this awful tightness and inability to fully engage in normal tasks what parents felt when they finally let their kid go off to school?

“The day has not yet finished.” Kohaku gave a fond huff. “Therefore, I am not late.”

“Fine. I’ll give you that.” He blinked in the darkness, coming a little more awake as she fitted herself up against him and wrapped the furs back around them. Tight. Compressed. Warm. He tried to feel uncomfortable, but nothing about this was uncomfortable, it was very—very secure.

“Why do we have another child in the hut?” Kohaku quired.

Ah. She had noticed the extra hammock and the extra child in that hammock.

“Heh, oh…” Senku rubbed his nose. “I adopted Suika…I think. Is that how it works? You just steal a kid.” He poked her.

Kohaku thumped his arm lightly. He chuckled.

“I’ve been trying to claim her for years now. She has refused.”

“Maybe she just didn’t want to become a warrior goddess and is more inclined to a life of science.”

Kohaku dropped against his shoulder. “Perhaps you are right.”

“I am always right.” He muttered.

“Ah ha…sure…” Kohaku’s fingers interlaced with his own hand beneath the furs. “Hiroto did well.”

“No tears about murdering ducks?”

“I believe he plays it up to you. You are very soft on him.”

Senku snorted in amusement. “It’s hard not to be. I am easily swayed by human emotions.”

“That’s because you’re human.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.” Senku sighed at the numbers flicking over in his head. Her grip tightened around his, as if trying to bring him back to reality and centre him with the physicality of touch. He was no longer stone. He could feel, breathe, taste, hear—he wasn’t stuck in an endless void.

“I’m back,” she whispered. “It’s okay, you can sleep.”

He was so fucking terrified, of both the numbers that kept him awake, and the darkness without the numbers. How could his logical mind be so illogical. How could he have found himself in this—

This—

Place of mental absurdity.

Wasn’t he stronger than this?

“Senku.” She squeezed his hand. “I promise, I will wake you up.”

He guessed that was it, that was what he’d have to rely on.

“You know…” he murmured in his half-sleep state. “We’re going to need a bigger hut.”

Kohaku’s head settled against his shoulder. “That’s a problem for another day.”

He had to smile.

Because—yeah—

Another day—

He’d wake up.

And face another day in this new world.

Chapter Text

Ruri watched Andesite, Hiroto and delicate little Suika dash around the courtyard of the Temple, kicking the soccer ball back and forth between them, whooping and cheering if one of them managed to get a goal. Kohaku had dropped Hiroto and Suika off early that morning, as apparently, Hiroto had been requesting a ‘playdate’ with Andesite.

None of them where entirely sure what ‘playdate’ meant, but with the children content to spend the morning running themselves haggard while under her supervision, it wasn’t much of a bother for her to humour her sister.

The stairs of the Temple that she sat upon creaked and jostled as Jasper eased himself down beside her. He held out a cup of newly pressed juice to her. She accepted it, grateful for something cool and fresh to chase away the foul taste in her mouth.

“You seem…sad…my lady. It is rather unlike you.” Jasper sipped his own drink.

Ruri sighed, setting her embroidery down in her lap. She did tend to force an air of happiness, a fake smile—a fake everything—she didn’t even believe in the tales she told. Her gaze tracked Hiroto as he bounded around one of the totem poles, his face full of brilliant, sparkling laughter. Her stomach knotted up and she curled her fingers around the jewellery gift he had given her.

“I have never had faith in any of it…” Ruri whispered. “Never, Jasper. Mother and Kohaku, they were always the ones who believed. Not me. I never believed…” She brushed her fingers across the intricate designs of her embroidery. It was going to be a stunning piece, depicting a scene on a mountain—a chance encounter—with a Fallen Star. “And for that, I feel like I betray the voices of the past, the ones who spoke the tales before me.”

Jasper reached out, taking her trembling hand. “I am sure that, like you, they had similar doubts in the Ancestors.”

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes but did not fall. “I am a despicable hypocrite.” She spat.

“No…not at all.” He wrapped an arm around her. “You are tired. That is all.” His voice was soothing. Ruri leaned into him, letting him take her weight. She was tired. Tired and in pain. Tired of enduring. She just—

She wanted to—

Her gaze fell on the two boys, having both collapsed in a heap, and Suika worriedly waving her arms about in a panic at Hiroto.

Kohaku was walking up the path, yelling at Hiroto. Jasper stood, running to meet her, shouting at her in reply. It was all something about Hiroto and his ‘fucking hat’—which was a new phrase from her sister—the cursed sun—again, not something her sister would have once sprouted. Poor Jasper was apologising as if it was all his fault. Ruri felt a smile tug on her lips, seeing her sister anxiously fuss over the child she had claimed.

Ruri brushed her fingers across the tapestry she was embroidering.

“Am I truly the one, Mother…” she whispered, “who has lived to see the return of the Ancestor’s Sons? Would it be that I, who has never believed, who was given this sickness to curse my unbelief, be honoured with such a happening.”

Tears dripped onto her tapestry.

“How is it that you are dead, and I am here.” Ruri took a deep, painful inhale. “Oh mother, how I wish you could see the child of snow you so often dreamed of, how I wish you could see…” Ruri watched Kohaku heave Hiroto up and over her shoulder and take Suika’s hand. “I wish you could see that it is your daughter who has claimed them.”

Ruri smiled.

“But you do see, don’t you…Mother…”

She looked to the sky.

Maybe—

Just maybe—

She did believe.

Just a little.

Chapter Text

Taiju held her hand as they took in the collapsed ruins of Roppongi Hills Mori Tower. They’d been seeing the ancient structural remnants of civilization the further they travelled, and the eeriness of realization that they were walking amongst the desolation of their own past was terrifyingly haunting.

There was no escaping the weight of the centuries that had past while they’d been encased in stone. There was no escaping the reality that no matter what they did to bring back humanity—

The world as they had once known it, was gone.

The future—

Their future—

Had been completely shattered.

Yuzuriha curled into his chest, her nails digging into the skin of his back as she gave a shuddering sob. Taiju tightened his arms around her, wishing there was just something—anything—he could do to take away her fear.

But how, when he was just as afraid.

“We’re together,” he murmured into her hair. “Yuzuriha, we’re together…we can do this.”

She nodded into his chest. “I know.”

“Don’t leave my side…stay with me…” Taiju eased back, clasping her arms as he focused on her bright eyes. Alive. Vibrant. He could finally hold her. Finally feel her skin—real skin—not stone. He’d waited so long, just staring up at a statue, and now she was breathing again. He couldn’t stop wanting to smother her, and, thankfully, she was putting up with him and his hugs.

“I’m glad you waited three thousand seven hundred years, Taiju.” Yuzuriha gave a soft laugh.

He pouted. “Why, were you going to reject me?”

“Yep.” She nodded.

His heart sunk. What—no way—

“Hang on, you’re having me on.” He pouted.

Yuzuriha gave him a little playful rib with her elbow. “I think the whole school knew about us.”

“They did?” He gasped. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Yuzuriha laughed. “Don’t apologise. We were just both so…hm…”

“Dense?”

She covered her face. “Well…yeah…”

Taiju took her hand. Once the skin had been so smooth and soft, now it was calloused and rough, much like his own. “I’m glad you’re with me now. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Her smile was everything. It still made his chest tight and his throat dry.

“So, you ready to do this?”

Yuzuriha blew a rasp. “Do we have too?” she added a whine.

Taiju laughed and twirled her around. “Yes, we do. Senku gave us a very important mission.”

“I know, but it’s been…you know…nice…just the two of us.” Her cheeks tinted pink and she turned away sharply, slapping her hands to her face. “Don’t look at me!” Yuzuriha squeaked.

Taiju shook his head as he gathered up their packs by the large tree they’d used as a camping spot. “That’ll be kinda hard from now on, you know, since we’ve got to remain glued together.” He poked her in the hip as he passed by. “Get used to my stare, so that when you don’t feel it, you’ll know something is wrong.”

“I suppose so.” She quickened her pace to match his.

They’d tracked Tsukasa down to these large ruins, the collapsed skyscraper had long formed a series of networked caves that—perhaps would need some work to clean up—but would make a good foundation for a stone civilization. Taiju could see the appeal of the place. It took them most of the day to hike their way down through the dense forest and emerge in the grassy plains surrounding the collapsed Roppongi Hills Mori Tower. Taiju sighed, looking up at the strange sediment rock formation and its jagged, crooked edges jarring out like teeth against the setting sun. Should it even be called the Roppongi Hills Mori Tower still? Wasn’t much of a Tower anymore.

“I don’t think Tsukasa has made any more Revival Fluid.” Yuzuriha offered, looking around. “I don’t see anyone around...”

“Perhaps.” Taiju frowned. “But don’t let your guard down.”

They trekked their way through the fallen rocks, following the distinct scent of smoke and cooking meat. It was easy to find in this new world, for the air was so clear and clean. While it was true that there didn’t seem to be any presence of more people, there were the distinct signs that someone was living amongst the fossilised ruins of the ancient tower. The ground was compressed beneath them, and animal skins were strung out on racks for drying and tanning. Still—none of it was anything like the camp back in the forest. Taiju sighed inwardly. He was really going to miss Senku’s ability to make salt. He was rather glad that Senku had provided them with a little note of all the edible plants and herbs, because food was just going to be so boring without Senku’s cooking.

Cautiously they pressed onward into a large cave, their footsteps hollow sounding in the dark expanse. Taiju thrust Yuzuriha behind as a spear lunged at them, he snatched for it, grabbing the weapon before it could be pulled back and he dragged whoever welded it out of the shadows into the diffused light of the distant fire.

It wasn’t Tsukasa.

It was another young man, whose petrification scars had mangled his mouth and lower jaw. Taiju winced. That couldn’t have been pleasant, considering how irritating he knew his own petrification scars to be, and even Yuzuriha complained about hers.

“Hyoga…lower your weapon. They are welcome here.” Tsukasa’s mellow voice echoed through the cave. Taiju narrowed his glare up at the tall, grey haired young man in front of him. He tightened his grip on the spear, not trusting this new danger one bit. Not at all.

“I would, but the miscreant has my spear in a rather tight grip,” Hyoga taunted.

Taiju was tempted to shatter the weapon, just to make a point, but something about this Hyoga’s eyes, and his gaudy stance, was off-putting. His neck flecked with rising warning; dangerous, viperous.

“Never point this in the direction of my girlfriend or me again.” Taiju ordered. “Am I clear.”

“Who are you to order me—”

Tsukasa’s hand emerged from the shadows, landing firmly against Hyoga’s shoulder. “He is the Third Awakened. Be respectful, Hyoga, you stand in the presence of a Founder.”

Oh—dear—Taiju inwardly winced. So—this was going to be how it’d go—Tsukasa was going to rule by the formation of some crackpot new mythos and he got to have a starring role. Well. He supposed that did make the job Senku had given him a little bit easier.

“I see.” Hyoga’s spear slipped away. “You are Taiju and Yuzuriha.”

“Didn’t waste any time, did you, Tsukasa.” Yuzuriha’s tone was biting.  

“Winter will be upon us faster than we can anticipate. We must be prepared.” Tsukasa motioned to Hyoga. “Therefore, we need the strong and the capable awakened to secure a New Age. You are both welcome at my fire.” Tsukasa motioned deeper into the cave.

Taiju kept himself firmly wedged between Yuzuriha and Tsukasa. This was a reunion they’d known was coming, and he’d been positive at first that Yuzuriha would manage handling her furious righteous streak—

But—

From the way she was shaking against him, it seemed her willpower to be even mildly cordial had left.

“You murdered our best friend.” If Yuzuriha could have crackled lightning, she would have, she was emanating that much fury. Though perhaps not just fury, perhaps it was also pain. Taiju hadn’t been there in that moment to see it, but Yuzuriha had. She’d witnessed Tsukasa strike their best friend, seen Senku crumble into a lifeless heap.

Could he fault her fear and her terror after that?

Taiju closed his eyes against her tears. He could not cope with Yuzuriha’s tears. Senku had always been the one to manage her tears with his pragmatic, sarcastic drawl. Senku had just become so observant of people, so eerily skilled at reading them, he’d known just the right touch, just the right smile, and words to say.

Had they become dependent on someone who could fold around them so easily? Had they taken advantage of that? Had—had Senku ever felt frustrated that he’d had to work so hard to relate to them? And why hadn’t he ever thought about these things until now.

Taiju eased his hand against Yuzuriha gently, her shattered, broken gaze fell upon him and he shook his head. Yuzuriha breathed in deeply and spat at Tsukasa. Hyoga’s brow furrowed into a scowl at her action.

“I will never forgive you.” Yuzuriha snarled.

“I do not expect your forgiveness, yet, I promise that no harm will befall either of you.” Tsukasa inclined his head. “This I can do in honour of him.”

“Do not make promises you cannot keep.” Yuzuriha scoffed.

Taiju watched as she shoved past Hyoga, giving him a purposeful, forceful push of disgust. “She’ll calm down…eventually.” He sighed.

“Are neither of you concerned over the welfare of Senku’s sibling.” Tsukasa looked around. “I…expected…him to be with you.”

Taiju winced as Yuzuriha slammed her pack down somewhere inside the cave, causing the two young men in front of him to jostle slightly. Part of it was an act, and part of it—part of it wasn’t. She was upset, and she was letting it show because she had permission to act it out.

“Don’t…don’t talk about Hiroto, please.” Taiju swallowed. “Yuzuriha isn’t coping with the thought of losing him too. We spent weeks looking for him. We found…blood…and the trail was lost.”

Tsukasa looked away. “I see.”

“He’s a smart kid!” Taiju made a fist. “We know he’s alive. He’ll find us. That’s why we’re here…more people, better chance to find him.”

Tsukasa nodded and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. Taiju felt the weight and the strength in the grip, and behind it, the honesty in the words Tsukasa firmly believed in what he was speaking.

“We will find him.”

“Thank you.” Taiju gave a solid breath, trying to quell the uneasiness within him.

Murderer.

00000

Yuzuriha had taken herself off to sleep, laying out their bedrolls far enough away from the fire to be private, but close enough that Taiju could still see her. Hyoga had vanished, perhaps to keep watch—maybe?

Taiju was simply glad he wasn’t around.

The cave wasn’t hospitable. There was no way he and Yuzuriha were going to be comfortable in this darkness. They’d have to find other living arrangements. However, it’d do for now, while they tried to sort out just where they were in Tsukasa’s new Empire of Strength. 

“You know, I was wondering how you’d awakened someone so quickly.” Taiju held the familiar clay pot from the collection by the fire. It was very much a pot of Senku’s design. He had a particular style that made pottery look boring—or—that was Yuzuriha assessment.

Tsukasa looked up from the fire, taking a deeper breath as he stirred from whatever thoughts he had been lost in. Taiju hopped over a log and sat himself down. “Found one of Senku’s secret stashes?”

“Yes. I did. He has more?”

“Yep.” Taiju yawned, stretching his arms up. “Yuzuriha and I found about three of them, we’d hoped Hiroto might have been at one, but…”

“It would have been a long way for a child to travel on their own.”

“You never know with an Ishigami.” Taiju chuckled at the amusing thought.

“Then I presume you also have some Revival Fluid.” Tsukasa inquired.

Taiju shook his head. “Yuzuriha dumped all of it. She wasn’t going to make it easy on you, you know.”

“I see. She does not like me.”

That was the understatement of this new century.

“Then will you—”

“I will not help you make it.” Taiju held up his hand, cutting Tsukasa off.

“What if I give you a position—”

“You’re going to give me a position regardless of me helping you or not.” He kept his tone firm, though his nerves felt like they were screaming at him.

“I am?” Tsukasa arched an eyebrow.

“You are.” Taiju shifted his gaze to the crackling fire between them. “Because both you and I know, I’m the best you’ve got at a peacekeeper. If you want your empire not to collapse into complete depravity,” Taiju motioned to himself. “Guess I’m it.”

“Your loyalties lie with a dead man.”

“Actually, currently, my loyalties lie over there,” Taiju motioned to where Yuzuriha slept.

Tsukasa sat back slightly. Ah. There. A rather easy thing for a guy to figure out. Taiju resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I desire a home safe for the one I love. If you’re going to provide that, then…okay…” Taiju clasped his knees. “I’ll go along with your little facade.”

“It is not a façade. I will rebuild this world with the pure and perfect.”

“Tsukasa.” Taiju frowned. “You murdered my best friend for the crime of being smart. Congratulations, you’re an intolerant dictator of a shitty utopia.”

“I will not do it again.”

“I think you would.”

He caught the tightening of Tsukasa’s jaw. Yep. He was right.

“Let me be the one person who can tell you, to your face, not to kill someone, not to partake in something morally repugnant. Let me be your compass.”

For some time, Tsukasa was silent, and though his gaze was fixated on the flames of the fire, he looked to be far off in his thoughts. Finally, the muscles around his neck and jaw eased a little and he tipped his head to the side. The smallest hint of a smile touched the edges of his lips.

“I will agree to this.” Tsukasa inclined his head. “You, and only you, will have this right to speak above me, but, if I decide not to listen to your wisdom you cannot make protest.”

Taiju nodded. “As long as you give me room to speak my piece, and you are willing to listen. Then we’re good.”

His heart was racing, more so than any soccer game, or track and field event he’d ever had to patriciate in—more so than all the times he’d confronted his drunken mother—but he kept himself outwardly calm. He was well practiced at it. His loud, flamboyant veneer did such a great job hiding his calmer tone that few ever saw.

“You are a terrifying man, Taiju.” Tsukasa offered. “You should have become a fighter.”

“There is a reason I’m not.” Taiju studied his worn, scarred fists. “I loathe violence, it should only be used as a last resort.”

“Senku chose his fate.”

Taiju eased himself up. “If that’s how you wish to justify your actions to yourself, then okay.” He clapped his hands on his thighs. “You going to stay up?”

“Yes.”

“Okie, dokie then, I’m going to sleep!” He stretched and yawned. “Goodnight.”

Tsukasa gave a silent nod. Taiju headed past him, away from the fire, towards Yuzuriha and their bedrolls. He flopped himself down beside her, tucking up beneath the furs. She curled into him, seeking warmth. He brushed at her forehead and her brow crinkled in her sleep. They’d have never of done this—

In the before world.

It wouldn’t have been proper.

Wouldn’t have been right.

But suddenly—

Here—

They were all each other had—

Chapter Text

Kohaku lifted the strange, heavy, smoothly crafted mud and grass block up. It was dense. Solid. The dried grass packed into it firmed it up.

“I…I…what is this?” She looked out across the edge of the lake, where Senku had been working with Kinro for the past few early mornings, the work tiresome and gruelling considering the amount of thick clay mud they were dragging up out of the lake to form the blocks. They used wooden moulds Senku had fashioned to form the blocks, and then just left them out to bake in the sun.

Senku took the block from her. “It’s a brick. We need them to fashion a bloomery, and a proper oven…and we can also use them to build the foundations of our improved hut, and my super special awesome laboratory.” He flung his arms up in jubilation.

He was happy. He had a bouncy airiness to him when he was happy.

“I see. So you need these dried…bricks…transported back up to the encampment?” Kohaku studied the path from the lake. It was not a long walk; she would not find it overly taxing.

“Yep.” Senku slapped his muddy hands. “I was thinking of making you a wheelbarrow, but, decided a simple sled would be more helpful.”

He skipped towards a contraption by the path and flung his arms out to present it to her with a proud grin. “Tah dah.”

Kohaku tried her best to look impressed, but, it was just bamboo lashed together, making a tray that was already packed with the bricks. Senku held out the rope to her. “Kinro said you could manage the weight.”

Kohaku sent Kinro a glare. “Oh, he did, did he?”

Was that a challenge?

Kinro raised is brow as he slopped mud into one of the moulds. “Better you than me.” He taunted.

Senku rubbed the back of his neck, “Don’t overdo it.”

“I am capable of shifting some…bricks…” She retorted.

“I mean it.” Senku clicked his tongue, tipping his cone hat back just enough to show his eyes. “We run the risk of abusing your strength, and even Kinro’s and his brother…”

Kohaku pursed her lips. Ginro? Really?

Senku flicked her nose with a muddy finger. “You’d be surprised.”

She’d never really seen Ginro do anything other than complain, so, yes—she would be enormously surprised if he pulled his weight on anything.

“My point is, we are lacking manpower.” Senku sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, getting mud through the braids, which, made her have to turn away before she blushed. Why did everything he do, so naturally, make him adorable.

“So just…be mindful and don’t overdo it.” He stressed.

He was kind. His worry was endearing. There was only one thing she could do to hide her blush, she had to throw that sweetness of his right back at him.

“As long as you also, are mindful.” Kohaku pointed to the sun that was currently overhead.

Senku made a curse sign at the sun, making her smile at his usage of the gesture. He had so quickly picked up on their language, and altered himself to bend and blend around them.

“Ah, before you go, have you seen Hiroto and Suika?” Senku skipped a pace.

“I was sure they were helping Chrome at the river today.” Kohaku paused from tightening the ropes of the sled around her waist and shoulders.

Senku arched an eyebrow. “Ah ha…really now?”

She noted his glance shifting to the nearby shrubbery and trees, where his gear lay, and she heard the softest giggles and squeaking. Oh. Ohhh. Senku was very observant. Why hadn’t she picked up on the two hiding children? How curious.

Senku twirled away, flicking out his arms playfully. “Oh well, guess they’re super-duper busy being really helpful for the Kingdom of Science, you know, infiltrating and spying on the village to learn all about what we could use to convince people to join us.”

Kohaku bit her bottom lip as the bushes jostled and rustled and both Hiroto and Suika scrambled away in a happy, tittering rush. Senku looked back at her with a smirk. Her chest tightened at the delighted warmth in his eyes.

Yes. Dear Ancestors, she had chosen well.

000000

Hiroto and Suika both ran in unison through the encampment, heading towards their hut. They landed in a collective heap against a lounging Nala, who raised her head, rolled over and swatted them with a tail.

Hiroto flopped over her. “Oh, come on Nala! Stop being boring! We’re going to go to the village and be super awesome secret spies! Come with us, please!” He tugged on her ears. “Please, Nala, please!”

The lioness stretched, lumbered up, and walked out the hut.

Suika giggled. “I think that was a no.”

“I guess she’d be a bit obvious for our mission.” Hiroto gathered up his pack, stuffing things into it, his medical kit, his bamboo water bottle, a spare blanket. All the things Senku said was important for an adventure.

“Just a bit.” Suika rubbed her hands against her yellow dress. She kept doing it, like she was checking herself, to make sure the dress was real. Kohaku had made her a couple dresses and Chrome had dyed them different colours. Her favourite one was obviously the blue one, because it was the colour of their family-knot, but the yellow dress made her look like a flower. Hiroto looked down at the knot around his waist. Kohaku’s knot—their family-knot—he didn’t really understand it.

But Senku had tried to explain it, that instead of family names, like Ishigami, they had different coloured knots that had different weaves that they had to learn how to make as part of the family in the hut. Kohaku and Senku had given Suika a knot and she wore it around her ankle, along with a gold bangle he’d found in the river for her. She liked treasure. She said she could see it sparkle. Whatever that meant. Sounded weird and girly.

Hiroto yanked his bag over his back. “Let’s go be spies!”

“Detectives.” She offered.

“Hm. Okay. I’ll be a spy, you can be a detective!”

“Detective Suika.” She rubbed her skirt again.

“Spy Hiroto.” He bounced to the hut entrance. “On a mission!”

“But…but I haven’t…I haven’t been into the village before…they don’t like Outsiders…” Suika shuffled.

Hiroto held out his hand to her.

“It’ll be okay.” He offered. “You’re really brilliant at hiding! I think you’re better than even Kohaku.”

Suika giggled. “Really?”

“Yep!” He beamed. “I mean, you hid from her for ages, right?”

“I guess, yeah, I did.” She bobbed her head.

“Then that’s like, super duper amazing.” He hauled her forward and out of the hut.

“Okay.” Suika laughed, tightening her fingers against his. “Let’s go!” And she dragged him into a run. Hiroto whooped. This was fun. This was so much fun.

00000

It had been another long-arse day.

Senku worked at gently sponging his stinging, sunburnt skin. He stood in the shallows of the lake, watching as the sun sunk below the mountains. The sunset was pure ignition of fire, making the sky look as though it was lava. Stunningly beautiful, and reflective against the lake surface. His gaze shifted to the surface of the still lake, and his reflection in the fiery tinted water.

It was dissociative, the imagine of himself. Obviously, it was him—but—it wasn’t—

A part of him only remembered himself as the high schooler he’d been, centuries ago. It was still that teenager that his brain immediately projected forth as a self-image.

But it was not him now.

“Shite.” He whispered. “Shite, I actually adapted.” Weary, rasped laughter bubbled out of him.

Amusing. It was all so amusing, the notion that to live his life to the fullest, the world had needed to end. People had needed to die, so his heart could get fixed and he could finally fucking run, jump, and do shite. Dude. He was—indeed—a fucking arsehole.

He took a stabilizing breath. For them—for all of them—he would try to bring it back. Even if it took him a lifetime. He would do what he could.

Why do you put pressure on yourself?

Senku winced. Shite. Byakuya’s voice.

“I donno, Dad. Because you fucking raised me.” He looked back at the sunset.

Suika and Hiroto had returned from their little adventure into the village with and epic and exultant tale of being detective-spies, listening to the villagers. Their childish commentary had required some decoding on his part. The basic gist that he got from their little exploration was simple—

Food.

Dude. Dude. Seriously. Was life that boring? Yeah. Actually. Yeah. Considering the spice and drug trade that had once ruled the world—maybe it really was just the simplicity of nice things that drove humanity forward. One could not function without food.

Senku looked out across the lake, in the direction of the village itself, risen high on daunting cliffs. It reminded him so much of a medieval castle, with walls and bridges. But all castles had a weakness. All castles fell.

“Fuck…” he covered his face. It messed with his brain, thinking about the history they’d lost. Even if he managed to bring back some people from the petrification—it was gone—all of it was gone.

He heard water sloshing and slowly he dropped his hands to his sides.

Kohaku waded her way towards him. “You alright?” she asked softly.

“Not particularly.” He dipped a linin cloth into the water, dampening it and using it to press against his hot face. “But I’ll be fine.” He mumbled into the fabric. “I always am. Somehow.”

Senku took a deep breath as her fingers traced the coiled petrification scar down his shoulder. He halted her exploration from following the line all the way to its end point at the old scarring from his heart operation by lowering his arms and looking towards her. In this fiery sunset, the blue of her eyes was brilliant, but it was the way the light captured her curves and the subtleness of her muscles that he truly had to force his focus away from.

“Kohaku…don’t tempt me. Not right now. I’m really tired.”

Dimples imprinted her cheeks as her lips perked just a little. “Meaning, if you weren’t so tired…?”

He gave her a blank loll of his head. “Use your spectacular imagination.”

Kohaku curled her hand back, away from his side. “I like this real you.”

He snorted. “I am always the real me. You just get the perpetually pissed off version behind the facade. You know, because you’re special.” He mockingly waved the knot around his wrist at her.

“Ah ah, not sure how that explains your habit of smiling at me.”

“I don’t smile at you, piss off.”  He waded out of the water, heading for the branch that he’d used to dry his clothes on. They were still a bit damp, but he shrugged into them anyway. Kohaku caught the tassels, tying them up for him. He sighed, lowering his hands, deciding he just could not be bothered pushing her away.

“You’re smiling right now.” She teased.

Senku scowled. Dude. He was not. No wait. He had been. Shite.

She bit her bottom lip and twirled away, swaying her hips as she picked up a lantern to guide them through the darkening twilight. “You coming?” She looked back at him with an alluring smirk.

“You’re fucking awful, you know that.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I know.” She waited for him to catch up with her. “But you make it fun.”

“Heh. Nice to know I am entertaining on some level.”

Side by side they walked in silence back up the path to the settlement. Chrome had been in charge of dinner preparations, so they were welcomed to the smell of cooking meat.

Senku sighed. He missed rice. Unfortunately, it’d take a long time for them to get to a point where they could manage that sort of agriculture.

But he really did miss rice—and bread—and milk—

Okay—

Okay—

He was being a grump.

It was after the meal, when the stars were bright, and the fire was warm against their cheeks, that Chrome piped up.

“Can you tell us a story?”

Senku arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the Priestesses job, I’m a scientist.” He drawled.

“The Priestess is the Keeper of The Hundred Tales, you have to have a hundred more, right?” Chrome bounced on his seat. “So…tell one? Please?”

Well—

Fine—

Senku looked down at Hiroto. “What would you like? Legend of the Galactic Heroes? Spaceship Yamato? Lord of the Rings? Solomon’s Mines?”

Hiroto squeezed his cheeks together. “Dad only read The Hobbit to me.”

“Ah.” Senku tapped his knee. “He did, didn’t he. Okay…” he closed his eyes, focusing on the image of the stored mental library in his mind, the rows and rows of information, spiralling in an endless cavern that he could contently traverse whenever he needed to seek something.

But it would decay over time, unless he selected a book, and opened it, and sought to recall the information. He heaved out a tome and opened his eyes, taking in the fire crackling and dancing in the fire-pit, and the curious, excited gazes around him. It was like facing Taiju, buzzing in glee before heading to the movies.

He’d never thought that his crazy recall ability would be valuable in this way. That he’d become a living library. Senku took a deep breath.

“Alright, this story was written by the English Professor John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, and was originally published in three parts between nineteen fifty four and nineteen fifty five. We shall start with Book One, The Fellowship of the Ring, of Lord of the Rings…” Senku cracked his fingers and settled himself down into a comfortable spot.

Hiroto and Suika snuggled up against the furs around him.

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky…”

0000

Suika sat on a log, idly kicking her feet back and forth, smiling at her shoes. They felt so nice on her feet, and she didn’t end up with as many cuts from all the rocks and sharp sticks anymore. Kohaku had made her a new dress, it was blue, just like hers—such a beautiful colour. Blue like the shimmering lake she had grown up nearby, always knowing the sound of its water. Her parents—

Suika looked down at her hands, clutched tightly in her lap.

It didn’t matter.

She had new family.

They were safe—yes—

She could trust them—

Yes—

“Suika.”

She breathed in sharply and looked up, through her melon mask. Senku was crouched in front of her. She crinkled her nose up. The fuzzy-sickness made it impossible to see him clearly, he was just a blurry outline of a person, but his voice was kind, and his touch was secure.

“How many times have I told you, don’t sit out in the sun.” His hand went to her melon, giving it a pat.

“I am not Hiroto.” Suika giggled.

“Whoa. No way. Really? Fucking wow.” She heard the stones beneath his feet scrunch and crunch as he twirled around. “No, seriously, sweetie. Let’s not sit out in the sun and die of dehydration. Come on, you and me, we’re off to explore the forest while Kohaku and Hiroto try to murder each other.” Senku made a funny gesture with his hands. “Let us find plants for healing and food instead, because we’re not manic weirdos who like to hit each other with sticks.”

Suika giggled. She hopped off her log and dashed after Senku.

“Cannot think of anything more moronic.” He continued to complain, but really, he didn’t mean it. She had learnt that about Senku. He liked to complain about things. About the sun, about his feet hurting, about not having something called an air-conditioner, about missing his ‘com-put-or’ – Senku did a lot – a lot of complaining, which wasn’t really complaining, it was more just talking about the world he missed and the things that had once existed. She loved to hear all about it, and he loved to talk all about the wonders, so, that is what they would do.

While Hiroto and Kohaku had their lessons, she and Senku had their own time in the forest. She was good at helping him find plants and herbs, after all, she had lived in the forest for a long time on her own and he always praised her for how amazing she was for surviving so long.

They spent the morning searching for plants that Senku wanted to bring back to their home. He was going to make a garden. So she took him to her favourite spot.

“Sunflowers?” Senku halted.

Suika turned around, looking up at him through her melon. He sounded, happy? Maybe.

“Fuck, there’s so many of them.” He laughed. “Suika, this is incredible.”

“It is?” She blinked, squinting, trying to see the field of flowers. It just looked like a lot of yellow. Her Mum—her Mum had loved coming here.

Senku gave her melon a happy pat. “Thank you.”

She curled her toes. Was she useful? Had she helped him?

He collected some of the sunflowers.

“They’re my favourite flower.” Suika followed him back into the forest.

“Then we’ll plant some back at home, yes.” Senku offered. “Would you like that?”

“I would.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

He spoke to her differently than he did to Hiroto, and Chrome and Kohaku. Maybe he spoke to everyone differently, and everyone was special to him, and he was special to everyone.

“Suika…hold up…”

Her shoulder was grabbed. Suika startled, she snatched hold of Senku’s leg.

“No, it’s okay.” He soothed. “Ahead of us…” he pointed.

She still couldn’t see. The fuzzy-sickness made the world all blurry.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a dead wolf…with her cubs.” Senku inched closer.

Oh—oh no—Suika’s heart sunk. The poor babies.

Senku stepped around her and Suika listened as he shoved through the undergrowth. “Ah. That’s what I was hearing.” He eased back, holding something out to her. Suika offered out her arms, gasping as something warm and furry was passed to her.

A wolf cub! She beamed under her melon. “It’s alive!”

“Yep.”

“But…but the mum? The mum is dead?”

“Afraid so.” Senku’s coat rustled.

Dead. Just like her mum. The cub had no one. Just like her.

“What’ll we do about the cub?” she asked.

Senku’s coat rustled, he must have shrugged. “Well, we’ve already got a domesticated lioness, may as well see if we can raise a wolf. Our ancestors started somewhere with the domestication of cats and dogs, so…I guess we’ve got to start somewhere too.” He lifted the little pup out of her arms, checking the tiny creature for any wounds. “Must have been the runt of the litter…probably what saved him from the attack.”

“What attacked them?” Suika worried.

Senku wrapped the cub up in a bundle of linin, passing it down to her again. He shifted to a tree, brushing his hands against the claw marks scratched into the bark. “Have you ever seen any bears in this forest?”

Suika shook her head. “No.”

But—

She didn’t see much at all, because of her fuzzy-sickness, but Senku didn’t know about her fuzzy-sickness and she—she was too—too scared to tell him. She didn’t want him—or Hiroto—to throw her away.

“Okay. We should get home.” Senku hoisted up his pack. “I have zero interest in meeting a mama bear.”

“Yes. That would be bad.” Suika agreed.

“Indeed. It would be bad, and the negative bad, not Chrome’s positive bad.” Senku chuckled.

Suika cradled the pup as they headed back in the general direction of the settlement. “Can I really keep him?”

“You’ll be responsible for him.” Senku halted his strolling. She listened to him grumble something about finding another herb. Oh—he was on his knees again, digging out another plant to add to his collection.

“I can’t be expected to do everything…” Senku muttered.

“It is an albino, like you and Hiroto?” Suika asked.

He looked back and shuffled towards her and the wolf cub, leaning over them to take a closer look. “Hm. No. He just has a greyer coat. Albinism is particularly unique.” He chuckled.

“Are you and Hiroto sick?”

“Hm? No, sweetie, not in the way you’re thinking.”

She frowned beneath her melon. “But Kohaku…Kohaku said you need lots of rest. You get tired. The sun hurts you.”

Senku eased down on his heels. “Here, sweetie.” He motioned to her and she approached. He took up her free hand and he settled it against her neck. Suika blinked. What were they doing?

“Do you feel that?” He asked. “That soft flutter against your fingertips.”

Oh—oh that—

She nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s your heartbeat.” Senku tapped his chest. “Now, if you were to listen to mine, it’s slightly different to yours. It sounds a bit more like a…cah—swoosh…cah—swoosh…that’s because I was born with a hole right in the middle of my heart, between these two special chambers. When the healers patched up the hole, it left scarring, and it kind of makes a funny sound when the blood rushes through the chambers.”

She had no idea what he was saying at all, but it was scary and amazing all at once.

“So…you are sick.”

“I was.” He sighed. “Despite having the hole fixed, my heart did not work as it was supposed to, it was weak, and it got easily tired. This made it difficult for me to…hm…do things, to move my body. I was living on borrowed time.” He laughed, but it was so sad. “All I wanted to do was just go to school, be with my friends, and do science shite.”

“But…you’re okay now?”

“I’m getting better.” He gave her melon a pat. “It’s just going to take a while for me to build up strength. I was very unwell, Suika. I don’t understand why…or how…” his voice grew softer, full of airy wonder, “but ever since the petrification…I feel so different.” He shook his head. “I simply don’t know anymore. What I know to be reality…may not be reality.” She could hear the sudden happy vibration in his voice, that meant he was smiling. “And that’s very exciting.”

Suika nodded.

“Okay. Right.” Senku hoisted up his leather bag and the box of collected plants. “That’s it, that’s the last plant. No more! Don’t let me get distracted again.”

Suika nodded stoutly. “Yes sir!”

“What are the chances we get distracted.” He laughed.

“A hundred percent!” She burst out.

“Totally.” He echoed her enthusiasm.

0000000

Senku swung his herb bag down on the workstation and set his box of plants beneath the bench for later planting in the garden bed. He dropped his aching shoulders back and pressed his hands against his hot face.

“I miss my room, my computer…the air conditioner.” He grumbled. Right now, all he wanted to do was to lose himself in some crummy MMORPG and blot out the enormous list of things he had to do.

He let his hands drop loosely to his side. “I am living an isekai nerds dream and all I want to do is just go home, dude, I am lame.”

Hiroto suddenly attached himself to his waist and Senku staggered. “Hiroto, careful, you’re getting heavy.” Senku loosened his coat, slipping it off and flinging it over a nearby empty tanning rack.

“It’s a wolf cub!” Hiroto squealed.

“I am aware.” Senku shooed Hiroto away. “Go. Go. Move, out of my workstation. Both of you. Move. Take yourselves and the wolf out of my zone, please.”

With all the excitement of two kids at Christmas, Hiroto and Suika headed for the main pergola in the communal area. It’d taken Kinro, Chrome and him about two days to get the large structure firmly set up against possible strong winds, but they’d all agreed that the work was worth it. He now had shade to work beneath and Hiroto had room to play in. When he wasn’t guarding the village or performing warrior duties, Kinro was working on building another pergola, a larger sail that’d shade most of the settlements main communal area. It was a large endeavour, but Kinro and Ginro were—surprisingly—patient.

Their little kingdom was slowly coming together, looking more and more like a habitual community as each day passed. Senku had almost finished the bloomery for the iron smelting, and Chrome was currently working on the smaller oven by the fire-pit.

Senku snorted in amusement. “And he thinks he’s not an artisan or a craftsman.” All he’d done was given him a basic sketch, and Chrome had immediately understood the concept and happily gone ahead to make the cement and build the oven.

“I see you didn’t get lost in the forest.” Kohaku’s chin rested on his shoulder. He didn’t startle at her touch, or her proximity. He was getting familiar with her. That wasn’t a surprise, considering how close she liked to sleep to him and the best way to familiarise oneself with another, was to spend time around their pheromones.

“I am brilliant.” He quipped. She gave a puff of air against his ear and eased around him, leaping onto the workbench to sit there, kicking her legs idly. He ignored her, content to sort his gathered herbs into their proper piles, some would need immediate preparations for his medical kit.

“Senku?”

“Hm?” He didn’t pause from slicing up the dandelion roots for sun drying. “What?”

That was it. She didn’t say anything. He finished his dandelion root and glanced at her. “This may come as a shock to you, but, while I am truly brilliant, I can’t actually read your mind.”

She kicked him lightly with her foot. Senku shrugged, picking up another dandelion to strip and cut. If she just wanted to sit there, fiddling with the corner of her skirt, plucking at the frayed edges in a nervous little fidget, he really couldn’t care.

“Chrome said I don’t have soft hands, like Ruri.” Kohaku pouted.

“Yeah, and?” he tossed back.

“Do you like soft hands?”

“I don’t really give a fuck.” He shrugged. “Even in my era, you’d have been considered very aesthetic, and I will admit, I find you attractive.” Senku set his tools down and leant on the workbench, forcing himself to face her and her vibrant blue eyes. “But that’s not what is important in this understanding we have.”

Her brow furrowed.

“Pretty sure the moment we met, we emotionally clicked.” Senku clicked his fingers between them, empathising the point. “If that hadn’t happened, wouldn’t have mattered what you look like, I’d have regarded you as a blank slate.”

“I see.” Kohaku eased herself back, kicking her legs. Gah. She knew he liked her legs. Fuck. He slapped a hand on her nearest thigh, and she smirked in victory. Senku flicked her ear in retaliation.

“I’m just…not good with people.” Or he didn’t like people, or—he had to work at liking people—or something—he’d never really cared to figure it out.

“You’re better than you think.” She gave him a little brash head tilt.

Senku continued his idle work, liking that he had at least something to do with his hands to distract himself from her. “I pretend. I’m a chameleon. What I do is all a charade…”

“You keep telling yourself this strange lie.” Kohaku shuffled closer. “It its completely ridiculous.”

He couldn’t help it, he smiled, startling her. Probably because it was his honest, genuine smile, that were about as rare as rainbows.

“What?” Kohaku actually squeaked at him.

“You sound like my Dad.” His laughter was soft.

Kohaku gave a momentary look of disgust before rapidly blinking. “No. Wait…that’s good,” she reassessed, slapping her hands on her hips, leaning forward. “Someone has to talk you out this strange notion you have that you’re a charlatan.”

He gave a sarcastic drawl. “Ah. Charlatan. That’s a new word for you.”

“Hiroto has been teaching me new words.” Kohaku beamed.

Senku set the sliced dandelion roots across a wooden tray and moved them out of the shade area into the sun. “I see…so, you’re not just teaching him, he is also teaching you.”

Kohaku picked up one of the dandelion flowers, stripping the leaves for him. They continued working together until they’d gone through his whole assortment of dandelions. They’d dry out pretty quickly in this spring noon sun. He’d have to keep an eye on that.

Kohaku picked up the head of one of the sunflowers he’d collected. “You can use these?”

“Ah…yeah. Sunflower seeds are very versatile. Thought, I collected these to use for your hair oil. Suika also wishes to plant some…they’re her favourite flower apparently.” He started tapping the seeds out. “By the way, you don’t happen to know why Suika wears that melon do you?”

Kohaku brushed a hand through her stiff hair. “No. I’m afraid I don’t know. She’s worn it ever since…well…we found her.”

“So she wasn’t part of the village?”

“I think she’s a child of a banished couple, at least, that is what Jasper indicated.”

“Ah.” Senku nodded. “Yeah, that fits.” He handed her a pile of sunflower seeds. “We need to remove the shells.” He tapped a seed on the workbench, breaking the shell, stripped it, and flung it in a bowl. 

“Thank you, for bothering…” she whispered.

Senku threw one of the peeled seed into the air, catching it in his mouth. “I don’t bother with things.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “All things have purpose.”

Kohaku stared at him, then down at the seeds. “Wait. You can eat these?”

“Yep.”

“I had no idea.”

“Neither did Chrome, actually, which is surprising.” Senku pondered.

They eventually removed the shells from the seeds and Senku dragged over his large mortar and pestle, dumping a handful into the stone bowl.

“And here is where I wish we had modern appliances.” He grumbled.

“You wish you had modern appliances for everything,” Kohaku retorted. “You were complaining about not having a…razer…the other day.”

“Yes, because I have annoying, itchy invisible hair on my chin.” It was just enough to be repulsively annoying, but not enough that he’d ever look like Taiju after winter.

“Yes, I noticed.” She smirked.

“Shut up.”

“Senkuuu!”

Senku gave a defeated sigh. He was just going to have to face the fact that his name was perfect for the kids to shout from anywhere in the settlement. Kohaku couldn’t hide her grin of amusement.

Suika and Hiroto came running up to them, carrying the wolf cub.

“I decided on a name!” Suika held out the pup to Kohaku to pat. “I’m going to call him Chalk.”

Senku paused from beating the sunflower seeds with his mortar and pestle. “Good name. Much more original than Nala.” He teased.

He was kicked hard in the shin by Hiroto. “Nala is the best name ever! Nala, Nala! Nala! I love Nala!” Senku watched as Hiroto dashed for a sunbaking Nala, leaping onto her. She ignored him completely, and Senku shook his head at the giant, lazy arse cat.

“And…this is where the house cat begins again.” He muttered.

The two kids ran away in the direction of their hut, shouting something about building a spaceship as they raced past poor Chrome, almost upending him. Senku pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a deep sigh. Too late to yell at them to be careful.

Chrome thumped a large pot down on the workbench, propping a hand on his hip. “So, you two procreating yet.”

Senku ducked quickly as Kohaku grabbed one of his knives and slammed it straight down between Chrome’s fingers on the workbench.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry.” Chrome yelped.

Senku poked his head up over the top of the workbench, grinning. “Nice aim.”

Kohaku yanked the knife out of the workbench, giving a tongue click of annoyance. “I missed.”

Easing back onto his feet, Senku took the knife from her. “This is why I want a laboratory, so I can work in peace.”

Kohaku scoffed. He gave her a fond glance. Something told him his days of long, undisturbed laboratory time were far behind him—in a distant era in fact—and he wasn’t finding himself overly sodden about that notion.

“What’s up Chrome?” Senku reached for the rosemary and lavender, separating the bundles into what he needed to use now for oil making, bundles for drying, and seed collection. Kohaku swung herself onto the workbench fully, crossing her legs, picking up the stems and flowers he discarded and weaving them.

Chrome motioned to the pot he’d set down. “We’re almost out of salt.”

“Ah…” Senku tipped back on his heels. “That’s not surprising, we’ve been using a lot. Guess we’re going to have to make a trip down to the beach.”

“Yeah!” Chrome made a happy twirl. “Epic!”

“I have been curious about how you farmed your salt.” Senku mused. He looked to Kohaku. “How far is it? Will it require an overnight trip?”

“Most likely, yes…perhaps longer, knowing your pace.”

She didn’t mean it negatively, so he didn’t take it thus. He was slow, that was just a simple fact of life that had to be added into everything they did.

“Hm…” Senku looked down at the herb plants he’d gathered for his garden, and then over at the half-built bloomery and the trompe system. “I’d hate to slow up production of our little home…though…to be honest…the bloomery is going to need time to set, so, it’s not like we can use it immediately.”

“Then perhaps we finish the bloomery and the…trompe…” Chrome offered. “And head off while it’s setting, so, when we return, we’re all ready for the iron smelting.”

Senku nodded. “Heh. Sounds good.”

“Um. I’m still…confused about the…trompe…” Chrome scratched the back of his neck.

Senku grinned. “Oh, Chrome. Get excited. The trompe is truly marvellous and ingeniously simple. It was used for hundreds of years to produce compressed air for furnaces, just like what we’re building. You are going to love the physics in action.”

Chrome grinned, bouncing on his toes. “Okay. Yeah! So, shall I start on mixing more cement then?” Chrome motioned over his shoulder. “I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“Sure. I’ll finish up with the gardening and join you later.” Senku nodded. He watched Chrome dash off and chuckled. “At least he’s sticking to a project.”

Kohaku propped her chin on his shoulder. “You’ve given him a reason to focus himself. He needed a leader to follow.”

Senku blew a rasp. “I am not a leader.”

“Hm. So you say.”

“So I know.”

“Hm.”

Kohaku held up the weave of herbs and flowers she’d finished, most likely something that would hang in the hut above one of the kid’s hammocks as some sort of ward. He’d noticed the villagers had a tendency to do so, and had a feeling it was more about different plants being mosquito repellents than anything mystic.

 “Perhaps the trip to the beach will be beneficial…” she looked around their settlement. “You will see more of this new world that is now your world.”

“I suppose so.” He gathered up his box of plants. Best to get them planted before he totally forgot about them and wasted a good morning of herb gathering. Kohaku immediately hopped off the workbench, taking the box from him, freeing up his arms. He gave her a smile of thanks, taking up his trowel from the toolkit by the workbench. They wandered out of the shade of the pergola, into the stark spring sunlight, heading for the garden beds he’d made up. It was going to be an interesting experiment to see if he could get anything to grow. After all, he wouldn’t have said he had a green thumb. Having a knowledge of how the world worked, didn’t always apply to actually being good at gardening. It may have made him worse at it.

Senku crouched, and Kohaku set the box of plants down, joining him.

“Is the soil ready?” she asked.

“Should be. It’s had a few days for the fertiliser to settle in. Hopefully I didn’t over do it,” he stuck out his tongue. “Last time I did anything remotely like this, I murdered all the plants.” Senku pinched his fingers together. “I am a little enthusiastic with my ideas. Very hard to just…reign it in.”

Kohaku giggled, something she only did around him.

He threw a pinecone at her, only making her giggle all the more as she ducked its trajectory. He gave up, setting his attention on digging rows in the garden bed.

“Oh…” he paused, “before I completely forget, I don’t want the kids going into the forest alone anymore.”

She folded dirt around the thyme he planted, patting it down, moving to the next plant. “Why? It’s perfectly safe—”

“The wolf cub, we found its mother and siblings slaughtered. I think it was a bear.”

“A bear?” Kohaku stiffened, suddenly hyperaware, her gaze sharpening at the tree line beyond their hamlet. “We haven’t had a bear sighting since…my grandfather was head warrior.”

“Well, I could be wrong. I’m not exactly an expert.”

“If it is a bear, it is something that we shall have to report to my father. We shall need to keep watch.”

He shrugged. “Heh. Just be careful.”

“You should also not go into the forest alone.”

Senku mockingly motioned at himself. “Do I look like someone who would intentionally take on a bear?”

Kohaku stood to her full height and propped her hands on her hips. She bent over slowly, purposely pressing her forehead against his. “Need I remind you that you seem to enjoy picking fights with men several times your size.” 

Senku blew a rasp. “I do not enjoy it.” That was a ludicrous notion.

“Hah!” She scoffed. “You love challenges.”

“Keep talking, Lioness, and I will take it as a challenge.”

“What if…” she grinned, her hands snatching for the leather of his vest. “We do not talk.”

Senku slapped his trowel down. Challenge one hundred percent accepted. Swinging up his arms, he smacked her elbows with the sides with his hands, and she yelped in shock, releasing him. He gave her no time to evaluate, he surged up, capturing her cheeks in dirtied hands to drag their lips together.

It was gloriously instinctual, and he so did love it when something was smooth and engrained and took such little effort. Unquestionably human—that desire to feel like one whole being instead of two separated ones. Kohaku’s hands wove through his hair, knotting up as she dragged herself against him. They broke apart with the oddest tug of reluctance.

Kohaku stared at him, her chest heaving against his. No words. Because nothing needed to be said. Her nails dug into his neck, making his skin crawl.

“Senku! Senkuuuu!”

Fuck. No. No. Nope. He turned his head towards Hiroto and Suika, standing a few meters from them.

Hiroto held up a hand as if asking a question. “Are you two fighting?”

“No.” Senku deadpanned.

Kohaku was trying—though failing—to contain her laughter against his neck.

Hiroto raised his hand again, but this time, he inched behind Suika, as though using her as a shield. The little shite. “Are you…kissing?”

“Hiroto!” Senku ditched a pinecone over the two brats.

The two children immediately bolted, squealing out pearls of laughter. Senku dragged a hand through his hair. “Space gremlins, both of them,” he muttered. It was nice to hear their laughter in the settlement. It made all the hard work worth it.

He glanced back at a flushed Kohaku, the happy delight shining in her vibrant blue eyes.

This—

This was all kind of perfect.

So why did he have such an awful, niggling feeling deep down—

That something would—

Could—

Take it all away.

Chapter Text

Chrome bounced around the wagon with an animated spring.

“Dude, you can make love to the wagon some other time, Chrome.” Senku hoisted the tenting and bedding supplies up and into the wagon. It wasn’t some magnificent, brilliant wagon—just—a basic wagon. But the way Chrome was acting, made it feel like they’d made a Ferrari.

“Wheels are just so bad!”

“Heh, this is nothing.” Senku tipped his cone hat back. “Someday, you and me, we’ll build a motor.”

Then it’d really be a Ferrari. Senku grinned. That’d be epic. They’d get there, he was sure of it. One step at a time, they’d climb the seemingly impossible to climb mountain.

His hat was rudely batted, and Kohaku bounced herself up next to him, with the same energy as Chrome. Gah. He was surrounded by energetic people. He couldn’t even lazily sleep in anymore, like a proper young adult his age, not with two kids who belly-flopped him the moment they roused.

“So, let me guess, you’re expecting me to pull this.” Kohaku planted her hands on her hips.

“Well, it’s either you or the other lioness.” Senku motioned to Nala.

“Heh. No. I can do it.” Kohaku scoffed, strolling past Nala with an air of snootiness.

“She’s just a big cat, Kohaku. Stop being jealous.” Senku teased.

He received a scowling pout, which, honestly, was all sorts of adorable.

Kinro and Ginro headed their way, with the kids running around the two warriors. Children were highly valued in the village, and even Ginro, for all his faults, watched Hiroto and Suika with the keenness of a hawk. Senku supposed it was reassuring. His brats were never technically far from someone now. It had eased one stress on him.

He’d found people—

Good people—

Kinro hoisted Suika up into the wagon. “Be assured, we shall protect the settlement while you are gone.”

“I am assured.” Senku quipped back, assisting Hiroto in clambering up to join Suika and Chalk. Hiroto immediately began jumping around, rattling the wagon.

“Ah, nope. Nope.” Senku gave Hiroto’s head a gentle pat. “Sit down, bub. You’ll make it harder on Kohaku. Behave, or I will make you get out and walk with us adults.”

Hiroto blew a rasp. “You’re not an adult!”

Senku arched an eyebrow. “You wanna get out and card me, space gremlin.”

Hiroto ducked behind Suika and the two giggled.

Senku shook his head at them. He rested a hand briefly on Kinro’s arm. “See you in a few days.”

“Stay safe.”

“Heh.” Senku twirled about on his feet, “You too.”

He momentarily glanced at his hand. When had he started touching people like that. Weird. That was weird. He shook his head. Anyway. Refocus. He joined Kohaku at the front, grabbing the handles.

She started to protest, “I can—”

“Will you just let me help.” He motioned forward. “Come on.”

“Fine.” She gave a small smile and surged the wagon forward. “Do try to keep up.”

“How about you try to slow down.” He retorted. “How about that, heh.”

“What fun would that be, then you wouldn’t be challenged.” She threw him a smirk.

“By the Ancestors!” Chrome shouted from ahead, throwing his arms in the air. “Will you two please just get a hut.”

“Senku, we already have a hut.” Hiroto crawled over the supplies. “Why do you need another hut?”

Right. Hiroto hadn’t quite figured out the nature of his apparent relationship with Kohaku yet. He was pretty sure Suika had it all sorted out in her head, but she was three years older than Hiroto—which had been an enormous surprise to them all, since she looked far younger. But at eight, Hiroto was still putting the world together like a puzzle.

“Hm, do you think Dad would have brought Miss. Lilian home someday?” Senku asked.

“So gross.” Hiroto made a disgusted face.

“Do you think she’d have been our Mum?”

“Yes!” Hiroto burst out. “That would have been great!”

Senku smiled at the confusing dynamics of a child’s simple perception.

“Okay, so, juxtapose that concept onto Kohaku and I.”

He waited. Hiroto was silent for some time, so he focused on pushing the wagon. Finally, he heard a soft reply.

“You’re a pervert, just like Dad.”

The little shite didn’t even understand what a pervert was. Senku rolled his eyes. Now he was just getting his own words thrown back at him.

“Yeah, well, you’re a space gremlin.” Senku retorted.

“You said you were never going to like girls.” Hiroto crawled up onto the edge of the wagon, flinging his arms around his neck. Ah yes, girls, the alien species that shared their planet—cause that’s what it sounded like when Hiroto said the word.

“I never said that.” Senku inwardly cursed his burning ears.

“Yes you did.”

“No, I said I doubted I would ever find girls as interesting as science. Huge difference. Vast difference. Canyon sized difference.”

“You said you didn’t like boobs.” Hiroto flopped around, dramatically.

“Gah, Hiroto. Not what I said. Stop it.” The gremlin was purposely actually putting on little brother shite mode.

“Yes it is. I have the best memory!” Hiroto exclaimed.

“Obviously not.” Senku drawled. “Because isn’t what I said.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No. It is not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Wow.” Kohaku tipped towards him. “So, to get all your secrets, I just need to ask Hiroto.”

“Yep!” Hiroto flung up his arms. “I know everything! I listened to all his super-secret conversations with Taiju, I pretended to sleep, but I never was!”

“What? And I let you sleep in my bedroom. You little sneak.” Senku mockingly huffed.

Hiroto mimicked his cackle. “I am evil!”   

Senku dropped his head, giving a defeated sigh. Hiroto leaned in closer, hugging him. “Since Dad isn’t here, I will say it instead…”

Senku’s brow compressed in confusion.

“I’m proud of you,” Hiroto whispered.

Senku tipped his cone hat down further, hiding his stinging eyes. It was the sun, it was just the bright sun.

00000

From Hakone Shrine to Kifune Shrine was roughly twenty-five kilometres, that was his vague, best estimate. Of course, that had been back before the world had ended. He stood on a sand dune, looking out across what he presumed was still Sagami Bay. The water glinted and flecked against the sun, rippling with the softest touch of waves. In the centuries he’d been encased in stone, the shoreline had eroded. How much had Japan’s surface changed? What did his home look like from—

Senku glanced briefly at the cloud dotted sky.

Space.

He shook his head at the amusing thought.

They’d followed a fascinating path to reach their destination. Fascinating, because much of it had been old roads. It was impossible for Chrome and Kohaku to know that the indentations into the forested landscape that they were following were roads, as the infrastructure had long past eroded. Every so often they’d encountered the vaguest husk of a car, but without reference to what the strange, rusted, warped fragments were, Chrome, Kohaku and Suika discarded them entirely. They were as mundane as a rock, or a tree, just another part of the normal environment.

And—

The statues.

So many statues.

To Kohaku and Chrome, and even little Suika, the silent—almost illusionary primordial—like gazing upon fossils—statues were just an everyday occurrence.  

It was gut wrenching how many people they passed, and how many were broken, eroded, and completely beyond recondition. It’d gotten to the point where neither he nor Hiroto had been capable of speaking, withdrawing into an aching silence that their companions respected.

Now though—

They’d reached their destination, and a sense of odd serenity had settled over Senku. Hiroto and Suika dashed past him, tumbling down the sand dune with high pitched squeals.

“Oh my gosh! Both of you! Be careful!” Kohaku shouted from somewhere behind. Senku chuckled, only for the laughter and smile to dissolve as panic shot through him.

Wait—

Wait—

Wait—

Wait—a—fucking—minute—

“Hiroto! Suika!” He shouted. “Stop! Stop! Now! Stop!”

He heard a shriek. Suika vanished. Hiroto started screaming.

Kohaku was running past him before he could move, but he followed, feeling the sand pull and yank on his movements as he forced himself to move as fast as he could without upending himself. Somehow Chrome was already next to him, and was the one who hauled Hiroto away from the sheer drop Suika had plummeted down.

“Oh, god, no, no, no, no.” Senku hauled at the sand.

It wasn’t a sand dune.

It wasn’t a fucking sand dune.

“Shite. Shite. Shite.”

Chrome flung him a rope. “It goes down pretty far, from what I remember.”

“You’ve been down there!” Senku grabbed the rope.

“Yeah, actually, when the tide is out, you can get in—”

“The tide is in!” He panicked. “It’s flooded!”

This was worse! Or—was it better—if she’d hit land—would it had killed or—or was she already dead? How far was the drop? He couldn’t tell! Senku bent over, yelling into the darkness. “Suika, sweetie! Hold on, I’ m coming down to get you.”

Nothing. No reply. No. No. It was okay. She was fine. She had to be fine! He was not losing a kid. Not happening.

“I should go.” Kohaku protested.

“And who’ll lower you down, or hoist you up?” Chrome grabbed her. “No. You need to be up here.”

Senku stripped off his heavy clothing and twisted the rope into something resembling a rushed harness that he slipped into.

“Chrome. I need a light.”

“Right. Yeah!” Chrome snatched at his kit.

Senku crouched in front of a shaking Hiroto. “Look at me.”

Hiroto was hyperventilating.

“Hiroto.” He gripped his little brother’s cheeks. “Hiroto, look at me.”

Red eyes unclouded and stared up at him, wide and panicked. Senku squeezed Hiroto’s cheeks. “It’ll be okay.”

Tears just erupted from his little brother’s eyes, but he had no time to comfort him.

“Here Senku.” Chrome passed over a torch. Senku took it and headed for the hole. Kohaku planted her feet on either side of the opening, twisting the rope and anchoring it to her waist and thighs.

Senku lowered himself down, taking a brief moment to look up at her. Did he absolutely trust her with his life. Yes. Was this still terrifying. Yes. He took a stabilizing breath as he released himself, letting Kohaku take his weight. He jerked, feeling her jostle sharply. The darkness swallowed him as she lowered him into the cold bleakness that not even his torch seemed to penetrate.

“Suika!” His voice carried. The chamber was large.

Senku sucked in a sharp, painful breath as he hit freezing water. That felt like blades against his skin. His breathing quickened. No. He couldn’t allow that. Stop it. Breath naturally. The cloudy sensation in his head lessened a little, easing the compression in his muscles and he loosened himself out of the rope. Senku kicked gently at the water and looked up at the hole above.

Okay. Okay. Good. It wasn’t a drop that’d kill a child.

“Suika!” He paddled, flicking the rapidly burning torch back and forth.

Please.

Please.

Answer.

Please.

Had she been knocked unconscious?

Was she drowning?

“Suika!” He couldn’t touch the bottom beneath him. It had to be deep. Should he search below? Panic. Okay. Okay. Now he was actually panicking. His heart rate was growing increasingly erratic. No. No. No. He’d black out if it got any higher. Calm down. Calm down.

“Senku…”

It was so soft. He barely heard it.

“Sen…Senku…I can’t…see…”

Senku traced the voice, paddling through the eerily still water. It smelt like death. It actually smelt like the thick, tarry liquid that’d seep out of an abscess. Every so often, he brushed against something that might have been a rotting fish.

There—there she was—no—

He snatched up a bobbing melon.

It was just her melon hat.

“Suika!” His voice cracked in his throat.

There. She was clinging to a metal beam.

“I see you.” He called out. “Suika. Stay there. I’m going to come to you, okay.”

“Okay.”

Senku swam slowly, wincing every time his leg hit something. Don’t—don’t break skin. Be careful. Make deliberate movements. Nagivate slowly. It felt like forever before he reached her, but finally, he snatched her up and over his shoulder. He lost the torch in the process, and it fizzled out on the surface of the water.

They were left in near pitch darkness, save for the slither of light from the hole she’d fallen through. It was just enough for him to head towards and snatch up the rope once more.

“Okay, Kohaku is going to pull you up.”

“Wh…what about…what about you.”

“I’ll be fine.” He assured. “You need to go first.” His frozen, trembling fingers worked fast, fashioning the rope tight around her. “Kohaku! She’s secure!” He shouted.

“I’m lifting!” The reply was muffled.

Suika clutched at his arm as she was hoisted up. He pried her grip off. “It’s okay. I’ll be right up. I promise.”

“No! Please.”

“Suika. It’ll be okay.”

“Senku! I’m scared.”

“So am I.” He called after her, watching her ascend into daylight.

And he waited, bobbing in the freezing water.

Alone.

He was inside the depths of an ancient, buried cargo ship. Senku closed his eyes. He could hear the creaking of straining steel, buckling under the centuries of elemental exposure. The ocean’s waves hissed as they kissed the hull. Chrome was right. There was a slight current. This chamber would drain as the tide eased out. He supposed he should be grateful that it was a high tide, otherwise there was no telling what death spikes Suika could have landed on.

He heard the rope slap down on the water’s surface.

“Senku!” Kohaku’s voice called down. “Are you okay!?”

He twisted up the rope, looping it back around himself. “I’m okay. You can pull me up.” The yank came hard and fast, a little too fast. Senku yelped, clutching at the rope in a panic. Dude. So scary to sway around like a pendulum. Kohaku and Chrome’s arms grabbed him as he reached the surface, and he was dragged up and out onto the sand. Bright sunlight flared, blinding him. The sharp pain against his eyes stabbed through his skull. That was a rough transition. Senku hissed. Kohaku held him against her chest.

“Suika…is she okay?” He flicked water about as he peeled himself back, searching for his little girl. She was rugged up in his coat, with Hiroto and Nala curled around her. Senku shuffled towards her, pulling back the coat. He carefully checked for cuts, or signs of any skin marring, or a broken bone. Senku cupped her cheeks. “Suika, how did you land in the water?”

“I curled up.”

“You did a bomb.” Hiroto offered.

Senku gave her a hug. “You’re okay. You were very brave. Good job on finding a safe spot to wait.”

“My melon is gone.” She sobbed.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t grab it.” Senku sighed.

Chrome crouched beside her. “When the tide goes out, I’ll go back in and find it. I’ve been inside before.”

Suika hugged Chrome tightly. “Thank you.”

Chrome smoothed her back and hoisted her up into his arms. “Come on, back to the wagon. The ground is a bit unsafe here.”

Senku nodded. “Hiroto, follow Chrome.”

He watched his little brother scramble after Chrome long enough to know the three of them made it to the wagon, before he folded forward, covering his mouth. He had every urge to throw up, but he supressed the urge, forcing his tongue to the top of his mouth.

“Senku.” Kohaku’s arms gently pressed around his shoulders.

“Just…give me a moment.” Senku just let the exhaustion settle over him, pinning him to the warm sand. He’d never been grateful for sunlight, and it’s heat before. How hilarious. But mostly—Kohaku’s body heat against his bare back was grounding. She was shaking. Had she overexerted herself? He raised his hands, clasping at her arms around his neck. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Kohaku. I’m okay.”

She nodded against his neck. Her arms slowly loosened from around him. “I…I’ll go check the kids.”

“Thanks.” He watched her head back to the wagon, pass Chrome as he swapped with her. Chrome skidded down to land beside him, collapsing in a similar heap.

“I am so sorry! I should have warned—”

“Chrome. It’s fine. Can’t predict these sorts of things.” Senku shook his head. “It’s not your fault.” He heaved himself up. Ick. He was coated in sand. Chrome handed him his clothes and he shrugged back into them. Senku carefully inched his way across the bow of the ship, seeking the edging drop down into the ocean below. The ship they stood upon; it wasn’t the only one. Several others were marooned upon the coastline, embedded into the beach as though they were knives, slammed into the sand and water by an ancient god’s fury. Chrome scratched a hand awkwardly through his hair.

Senku cocked his head towards him. “So, this is why you bought a fuck ton of rope.”

“Yeah…” Chrome shrugged. “I’ve never known what they are.”

That was such a wild notion to him. He struggled to comprehend how Chrome and Kohaku felt, knowing there was a whole fuck-ton of history before them and around them that they simply did not know nor comprehend.

Heh. From the look on Chrome’s face, it must have been frustrating.

“Maybe oil tankers, or cargo liners. Big ships that carried freight across the globe. They’d have had very high-grade steel hulls.”

“But…they’re so big.” Chrome murmured in disbelief. “How could they have ever floated.”

Senku chuckled. “The marvels of science, heh. So, I presume there is a way down onto the beach and…ah…off this death trap.”

Chrome nodded. “The tide should be heading out in the afternoon, if I’ve timed this correctly. Then you’ll see the super epic amazing white rocks!”

Senku shook his head as he followed him back up the sand, towards Kohaku and the wagon. The kids were curled up inside, on either side of Nala, completely emotionally drained. Senku flung a fur over them.

Kohaku handed him his cone hat and he slipped it on. It was rather obvious that she was worried, but she wasn’t saying anything, and she wasn’t pressing the issue. He brushed his hand against hers, hoping that’d be enough. She was a very tactile person—which amused him.

They couldn’t have been more different in that regard, but a part of him did find it wonderfully interesting to explore. And it was—it did—it was comforting.

Taking their places at the front of the wagon, they jointly forced it forward through the sand, following Chrome along the high ridge towards the direction of a safe looking inlet. Hopefully where the kids wouldn’t get into too much mischief.

00000

It was late afternoon by the time the tide went out, revealing a long, wide, alien looking landscape that made Senku’s skin crawl at the eeriness of it all. This—this was Earth, right? It didn’t feel like his Earth. If he woke up tomorrow and the sky was purple, he wouldn’t be surprised about it in the slightest.

Senku studied the damp sand squished between his toes. He was the first Captured One to walk on this shore in centuries. A tingling rush tickled up his spine and he coiled his fingers around the knot Kohaku had given him.

“This is real,” he murmured. “You are awake, you are not dreaming.”

Sweet Suika was refusing to come out from beneath the furs without her melon mask. He wasn’t going to push it; it wasn’t really the time or place. If she wasn’t ready to face the world without it, then he wouldn’t force the point. But it did make him curious as to why she was so unsure of the world without it. Kids tended to have a reason for their behavioural quirks. He puffed back his fridge. Probably should have read more books on psychology, but he’d always avoided the topic, cause he’d loathed having to think to much about his own behaviour.

Hiroto patiently sat beside Suika while she and Chalk hid away, reciting his favourite mathematical equations to her and explaining how he best thought they applied to sword fighting.

Heh.

Nerd.

Senku chuckled.

They’d set up their camp nearby another of the old rusted out hulls of an ancient oil tanker, this one on dry land. It was basically a skeleton of a ship, nothing more than a shallow tin now. It cast an eerie shadow over the beach. Senku tipped his head back at the vast metal wall. Dude. This thing had survived almost four thousand years in such a harsh costal environment, it was impressive. It was a monument to the past.

And he wanted to smelt it.

“Look! Look!” Hiroto suddenly bounced up in the wagon. “They’re back!”

Senku turned to where Hiroto was pointing along the beach. Sure enough, Chrome and Kohaku were approaching from the direction of the ship Suika had fallen into. Chrome waved something in the air.

Ah—

A melon.

Senku reached into the wagon, gently tapping Suika beneath the fur. “Good news, sweetie.”

She ruffled around and peered out, her face crinkled and eyes puffy from tears. Senku brushed at her cheeks. If he didn’t know better, he’d have mistaken her for a little sister of Kohaku—maybe she was a cousin—that was likely.

“My melon?”

Senku nodded.

Suika took a deep breath.

Chrome came charging up to the wagon. “I got it! It’s a bit damaged, but I patched it up. Gonna suggest we let it dry out a bit, but, it’s still all here.”

“Thank you.” Suika took her precious comfort shield. Senku slapped Chrome on the shoulder in thanks and Chrome beamed.

Kohaku spread her hands, gesturing at the tent and the furs he’d managed to set up—all on his own. “You leave me nothing to do.”

“Whatever do you mean,” Senku arched an eyebrow. “Obviously you and the kids are catching us dinner. Chrome and I are going exploring.”

“Whooo!” Chrome bounced.”

Senku grabbed his spear from the back of the wagon.

“Aw, I wanna go exploring.” Hiroto flopped onto the sand.

“Nope.” Senku stepped over him. “Hunting lessons come first. Oie, up off the ground, you wanted to become a warrior.”

Hiroto wailed his arms and legs about, tossing sand about.

“Hiroto. Behave for Kohaku.”

“I know. I know.” Hiroto huffed.

“Suika, be good.” Senku shouted over his shoulder as he followed Chrome out into the eerie beach.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the salt farm.” Chrome pointed somewhere further up the beach.

“You have a salt farm?” Senku asked.

“Well. Yeah. How else would I get the salt?” Chrome shrugged. “I gotta wait for the water to vanish into salt.”

Senku pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed. He just—he just—Chrome was just—

“You’re fucking mental, you know that.”

“Is that a good thing.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay!” Chrome beamed.

“Also, the water doesn’t ‘vanish’ into ‘salt’…” Senku tracked Chrome’s footprints in the sand, stepping where he stepped as they moved across the lonely beach together. “The water evaporates, leaving behind the salt. It is actually part of the natural water cycle…” Senku waved at the sky. “Sun shines on ocean, evaporates water, freshwater vapor condenses into clouds which drift over land and rains.”

“So… the sky made of water too? It’s a sky-ocean!”

“No.”

“But you just said.”

“Clouds are water vapor.”

“Vapor?”

Senku sighed. Okay. Right. They were going back to the very basics then. He took a deep breath and launched into a rudimentary explanation of solids, liquids and gases. Chrome took it all in. “What you’ve been doing with the sea water is a good example of a physical change. It’s also a change that can be reversed, as the salt can be dissolved back into the water.” Senku motioned up at the sky. “Same as the water cycle. It is a physical change. The water that is cycled never goes through a chemical change into a different substance. It just cycles through physical states.”

“Solid.” Chrome held up his fingers. “Liquid and gas.” He listed them off.

Senku nodded.

“Okay. So…there are physical changes and chemical changes…” Chrome mused. “What…what would be a chemical change.”

“You tell me.” Senku cocked his head to the side. “If a physical change is something that alters the physical properties of an object, then what do you think a chemical change would be?”

Chrome’s brow creased. “I don’t get it. Everything alters the physical look of something.”

It was fascinating, seeing the world from the perspective of someone who was looking at it with fresh eyes. Senku smiled. “Would it help if I said that the only way to reverse a chemical reaction is via another chemical reaction.”

“No.”

“Give me your hands.” Senku gestured.

Chrome offered his hands. They were stained with deep rust from his earlier exploration into the ancient ship to retrieve Suika’s melon hat. Senku flicked the hands around, checking first for cuts. None. Good. Last he needed was for Chrome to die of tetanus from crawling around in ancient ships.

“See this decolourisation on your skin, this is called rust, it is a chemical change. It’s an iron oxide, a reaction that happens with iron and oxygen when triggered by the presence of air or water moisture. This is the chemical change that has been slowly destroying the great ships for centuries.”

“Whoa…” Chrome held up his hands, studying them with newfound wonder.

“Other chemical changes are cooking.”

“Seriously.” Chrome gasped out.

“And burning wood.”

“Wait, I though that’d be a physical change.”

“Nope. Chemical.”

Chrome shook his head. “This is all…so…”

“Exciting.” Senku lazily drawled.

“Yeah!” Chrome flung up his arms. “Super bad!”

Senku shook his head in amusement. If even half the guys in his old science club had gone into their projects with Chrome’s enthusiasm, their school might have had a better chance at winning the prefecture science competitions.

As they walked, he found himself collecting shells—and while he told himself it was to make more calcium carbonate for his ever-expanding garden—he was actually searching for the nicest looking ones with a wholly different intent.

It was just weird that he was even allowing himself to consider the notion that he’d make a female something. He’d given Yuzuriha gifts, but she was a best friend—that didn’t count. This was different, to actively desire to craft something that could possibly bring happiness to another. Though, there was perhaps a selfishness to it. He did want to see Kohaku’s smile, and the little dimple creases.  

Chrome led him on a merry walk, the tide had seeped out far into the distance, leaving a sparkling horizon of damp sand to stroll on and Chrome seemed intent on reaching a particular collection of oddly placed mounds.

“The White Rocks. I’ve never known what they are, but they’re super bad!” Chrome excitingly ran up to the protruding mounds that had been revealed by the retreating tide. There were several hundred of them, scattered about the beach. Their presence crept an eerie tingle up Senku’s spine. Was this what it felt like, back in his era, to stand in those ancient churches, or the Roman Colosseum, or before the Pyramids? An overwhelming sense of age and awe, of weighted history just crushing down upon him, as if he was drowning under an ocean of years.

“Wind turbines.” Senku thumped his fist against the enormous structure Chrome was climbing up. “Japan had a couple offshore wind farms. I guess, over time, the currents washed the floating structures onshore.”

It felt more like he’d come to a graveyard than a beach.

“Wind…turbines?” Chrome looked down at him. “So…they’re not rocks?”

“No. Not rocks.” Senku shook his head. He used his spear to draw in the damp sand, forming an image of a windmill. “Back in my era we had mechanisms called windmills, and what you’re standing on is a blade of one of the big ones, the wind turbines, used to harness wind power. These things were enormous.”

“I’d say.” Chrome threw open his arms. “This…blade…is huge!”

“Fibreglass and epoxy resin take a long time to breakdown, so, I’m not surprised these are still here. The disposal of them was a bit of a contentious topic back in my era.”

“Can we use them?” Chrome asked. “I always thought maybe for roofing, or to build a big log-house.”

“I wouldn’t recommend working with the fibreglass. It’s so decayed it’d be risky attempting to dissect it without the proper safety equipment. It can get into your lungs.” Senku tapped his chest. “Messes you up something nasty.”

Chrome deflated a little. “So…they’ll just sit here…”

Senku nodded. “A monument to What-Once-Was.”

“The great, incredible accomplishments of the Ancestors.” Chrome’s eyes shined in wonder. He hoisted himself up, leaping about on the old wing. “It must have been something to behold, cities of light stretching as far as the eyes can see, towers reaching the sky, huge ships that could float on the ocean.”

Senku took a hesitant breath. Chrome was looking upon the ancient wind turbines and the old ship hulls with a sparkle of wild and untamed romance. Seeking the people of the deep past—Senku looked up at the sky—His People—

To Chrome, and the villagers, these silent structures were monuments, a spyglass into the reality that the Ancestors had once inhabited and how they’d perceived the world, and it was crazy to be standing on the other side of that wall of time. He was now the one looking back at his own people’s footprints, which had never truly been intended to be monuments of their civilization in the first place. It wasn’t as if someone building a wind turbine thought of it as magnificent art—but then—had someone building the Colosseum, or a Mayan City, ever thought their works would be looked upon in awe and wonder after the weight of a thousand years.

Senku leant against the turbine wing. “It is true, the Ancestors built an incredible world, and we do have an obligation to uphold the good that we have inherited from them, not for us…” he cast his gaze back across the level sands of the beach to Kohaku and the kids, “but for the people who come after us.”

Chrome slid down to sit on the edge of the wing. “But that’s just it. I feel like I can never get my own people to see how important it is to keep striving forward. Its not like I can drag this back and show them a cool thing from the time of the Ancestors.”

Senku arched an eyebrow. “If that’s how it is, then let’s build a windmill and show the villagers the marvels of the Ancestors that way.”

“You mean…you mean we could make one! This…this windmill?” Chrome clutched his hands.  

“I have been contemplating the possibility for a while now.” Senku mused. “It’d be great to use as a pump system to get water up from the lake. Just…haven’t figured out the piping issue yet. Could use clay. Maybe. Clay pipes were once a big thing. However…we don’t seem to get an enormous amount of wind at Lake Ashi.”

“Depends on where you are.” Chrome kicked his legs back and forth from his spot on the old wing. “The encampment is in a protected cove, because obviously, we don’t want to catch the strong winds and have our huts blown over every storm, but there are spots that get a lot of wind.”

Senku leant back against the wing, looking out across the beach, to the shadow of the ship where their camp was set up in the distance. He could just make out the little figures of the kids and Kohaku, though it greatly amused him that Nala was making her way in his direction.

“If we could get wind power, it’d immediately bring us up several steps.” Senku tipped his head to the side. “Though I don’t know if it’d be enough to produce electricity…but it’d be worth trying.”

“What do we need?” Chrome asked.

“Help.”

“Heh?”

“We need help, Chrome.” Senku crouched down as Nala finally reached him. He leant against her, wrapping his arms into her rough fur. “We’re just not enough to build the infrastructure we need.”

“The villagers won’t help us.” Chrome sighed in defeat.

“They haven’t been given a reason to, so why would they.” Senku shrugged. “I wouldn’t help some random arse losers either.”

“Um. Senku.” Chrome bent over from his perch on the wing.

Senku looked up, not used to hearing such a serious tone from the young man.

“What?”

“You…you do know who you are, right?”

Senku frowned. “What?”

Chrome dramatically flipped out his hands. “Great. Kohaku hasn’t told you anything.”

“Told me what?”

Chrome gestured to the sky. “The Ancestors. They were Fallen Stars. Great and powerful Sorcerers.”

Which likely meant they were scientists, or in some scientific field, and the word scientist and sorcerer had gotten convoluted over the centuries. Yeah. He’d figured that out pretty early on.

“Yeah. I know.” They also sounded very pretentious in his opinion, considering they’d woven themselves into a whole mythology. Ick. Who made themselves gods? Super lame.

“From The Sky.” Chrome insisted, as if he hadn’t made that obvious.

“I know.” Gah. Yes. The sky—very interesting.

“Senku.” Chrome folded his hands together seriously.

“What?”

“I chose a name for our settlement. It’s tradition in our village use names from The Hundred Tales.”

What the fuck did this have to do with the current topic of conversation.

“The ISS. I’ve decided to call the settlement The International Space Station.”

Senku started laughing.

Because—

It was really all he could do.

Because this was completely and utterly absurd.

00000

It was the soft glow of a lantern that led her to him within the ancient hull of the ship from the world-that-once-was. He sat on a mat weave, looking up at the night sky, ignited with stars, with a gaze of distant, aching longing.

Within the depths of the oil tankers hull that encased them, the gentle beating of the waves against the shoreline rattled the steel in a melodious, depressing song. Kohaku’s chest tightened.

He was right.

So much had been lost.

She’d never understand. Never comprehend it. It would be impossible for her to ever grasp a fraction of the wonders of the past he came from. They—they came from—they were from—such—

“We’re from completely different worlds, aren’t we?” she whispered.

Senku shifted on his mat, making room. She tucked her skirt beneath her and eased down beside him. He tipped his head to the side as his hand rested on her thigh, and he lazily traced her tattoos.

“Perhaps, but we were born to the light of the same sun.” He curled a hand around her neck. Kohaku tipped into his kiss, dragging a leg up and around him. The action itself causing the softest of chuckles from him. As much as she wanted to remain curled around him, the hint of sadness in his mirth was too much. It was like he was trying to hide his pain, even from himself.

“Are you upset, from what Chrome told you?”

It wasn’t that she’d been avoiding the topic, it was more that she only had suspicions, and suspicions hadn’t felt like enough to broach such a delicate topic.

“No.” Senku traced her chin with a thumb. “It’d be a ridiculous waste of emotion to get upset at something I simply cannot yet confirm.”

She had to force herself to focus on his words, the foreign rhythm of his voice, and not on her tight, aching chest or the tingling of her skin wherever his hand seemed to fall.

“I take pride in being rational and being able to deal with facts, but I still get lost in the sheer scale of everything. Until I can accumulate enough evidence, I will make no conclusion.”

He was doing it on purpose, he was making deliberate touches across her skin, not lingering to long, but long enough to make her tremble. Kohaku took a shuddering inhale. His single hand on her thigh hadn’t moved, that one remained tight, like he was grounding himself.

“Why are you…” Kohaku bent against his fingers tracing her collar bone.

“Touching you?” He finished her sentence. “Because you respond, and appreciate, physical stimuli. It’s what arouses you, calms you, and grounds you.”

“It…it is?”

“Yep.” He sat back a little. “You like tactile contact. It makes you feel secure.”

“How do you even know that.” She closed her eyes momentarily as his hand settled on her old wound down her side.

“Because I’m brilliant.”

She scoffed.

“You enjoy touching, you do it unconsciously, and it’s okay.” He murmured. “Don’t stop being yourself.”

“But you don’t like—”

“I like you, and the things you do.”

Kohaku took a sharp inhale.

“What…what about you?

“What about me?” He frowned.

“What do you enjoy?” she whispered.

Senku sent her a smirk that sparked sharply up her spine. “This.”

“This?”

“Yes. This. Getting to dissect you in an infinite number of ways. Truly, it is fascinating, seeing your responses to the most minuscule touch.” He tapped her nose.

Kohaku pouted. She slid in closer, placing her hands on either side of him. His grip on her thigh tightened as she pulled him into kiss, not releasing him until he was raking his fingers through her hair. Kohaku hummed in delight. Yes. See. She wasn’t the only one who appreciated it.

“I appreciate it with you. That’s the difference.” He teased, and she realised she’d murmured something aloud.

Kohaku bit her bottom lip. He was accepting this—accepting her.

“Things are going to get…hectic…when we get back, aren’t they…” Kohaku curled her fingers against his hand around her thigh. She wished she could imprint his touch into the skin.

“Probably.”

“Senku, I—”

He hoisted himself up, giving an arching stretch. Kohaku winced, hearing his back crack. He tipped around, slapping his hands together.

“Alright. How about this…first we focus on saving your sister, then, afterwards, as a reward for our incredible, amazing hard work, then we get to copulate.”

Kohaku’s cheeks warmed. She wasn’t entirely sure what copulate meant, but she could deduce.

“What if we…what if we fail?” she swallowed nervously.

Senku crouched in front of her. He reached for her cheek with a hand, cupping her chin. Kohaku pressed into the warmth of the roughened skin. The pads of his fingertips traced her ear gently.

“I won’t.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I told you. I do not fail when it comes to science, and all things, are science.”

“Someday, you will find something you cannot do,” she whispered.

“Science will conquer that also, maybe I will not, but a future generation will do so.” He looked up at the stars and she followed his gaze. “We’re at the emergence of a new era, and that is…”

Kohaku took a deep, shuddering breath at the tingling rush running up her spine.

“Well…” he gave a warm laugh. “It is truly exciting, isn’t it?”

She wound her hands through his hair and found herself desperately needing to compress her mouth to his, and knit body to body. It was a thrilling buzz, so much more delightful than any hunt, or a fight—fights were panic filled and frantic—hunts were exhilarating—but this—this was warmth, peace and perfect rhythm.

He was laughing.

“Shut up.” Kohaku clutched at his vest. “Senku. Shut up.”

“Kohaku, you’ve got ten seconds to get off me before I promptly decide to disregard my previous statement.” He had his eyes closed.

Gah. Moving had never been so hard in her life. She gave him a small shake of frustration before hoisting herself up. “You are infuriating.”

He just sat in the sand, breathing in slow, solid inhales.

“Senku?” Kohaku moved to reach out. What was he doing? “Senku, did I hurt you?”

He tossed a hand about quickly, opening his eyes. “No. No. I’m fine. Just processing. Its…ah…it’s a lot of stimuli, and my brain gets scrambled trying to sort it out and not overload.”

“I’m sorry.” She curled back. Did that mean she had hurt him?

“Hm.” Senku shifted, giving her the smile she now knew was reserved only for her. “No, it’s not something you need to apologise for. If I didn’t like it, I’d tell you to stop.”

Ah. That was true. He would. Indeed, she also would inform him of such a dislike, knowing he’d not take offence. They did share that common trait.

“That means you like it.” She felt a warm, deep pride at the thought.

“Yes.” He deadpanned, raised his hands, and gave her a mocking clap.

Kohaku kicked sand at him. He laughed as he gathered up the tossed aside mat weave and his leather kit, shuffling that back around his waist.

“Come on, we should get back to camp, and try to sleep.” Senku held out a hand, wiggling the fingers. She took his hand, letting him lead the way with the lantern out of the old ruins of the ancient ship. She leaned into him as the cooler air met them as they emerged onto the beach.

“You know…” Senku looked out across the dark ocean, only the sound of the waves beating against the shore filling the void of the night. “I might miss the world-that-once-was…” his arm slipped around her waist. “But right now, right here, it’s okay.”

Kohaku closed her eyes, leaning into him.

“It is,” she whispered.

00000

Chrome had made a salt farm.

It was fascinating what the guy chose to focus on. Why had this concept kept his interest, but other things hadn’t. Was it because it was something he only had to come and check every couple of months, and in doing so, it required a whole trip where he could collect other stuff. That was most likely.

Senku watched as Chrome heaved a load of sea water into one of the smoothed out, thin, clay-based rivets acting as basins to gather salt. Chrome had used metal from several of the old ships to make wind barriers. Not sure how good they worked, but it seemed good enough.

“It takes about a year to get a good yield.” Chrome set his pot down. “Is that normal.”

“I donno. This isn’t how I do it.” He was going to let Chrome have this one, and pretend like he didn’t know jack-shite about something. Chrome had to keep learning.

“It’s…it’s not…”

Senku shook his head. “I boil the sea water. It takes all day, mind you, and you don’t get a big yield like this. But it’s enough for one person.”

“This method seems much more sustainable.” Chrome looked pleased. “I’ll go get more water.”

Senku glanced to Kohaku as she hopped down from the wagon, handing him the shovel for collection. “You are worried about him.”

He startled. Dude. What? How did she—

“Man, you read me far too well.” What was he doing differently around her that let her know so much of his internal thought processes.

“Of course I do.” She looked insulted. “I can dissect you too, you know.”

He cracked a smirk. Oh. Really?

“Asked Hiroto what that word meant, did you?”

She blushed. “You do not actually wish to cut me up do you?”

“Not the type of dissection I’m talking about, no.” He raised his brows. 

Her cheeks tinged even darker. Senku leant on the shovel lazily. “I could go into fine detail, if you like?”

She slapped a hand into his face. “No!”

“Just offering,” he mumbled beneath her hand. “You seem like you’re super curious and my examination methodology.” Senku reached up, pulling her hand aside. “Or perhaps you’re more looking forward to the practical application.”

They were both doused in seawater.

Senku blinked and slowly turned towards a grinning Chrome. There went his perfectly good mud-sun protection application, just—doused off in one hit—

“Whoops.” Chrome innocently skipped back a few steps.

“Chrome!” Kohaku hollered.

“My hands slipped; I swear.”

“Beg for forgiveness.” Kohaku chased after him.

Senku watched them run down the beach.

“Heh. Classic example of how to waste energy.” He shrugged out of his soaked coat, throwing it over the wagon.

He searched the shoreline for Hiroto and Suika, finding them in the shallows, looking as though they were collecting shells and pretty rocks. Nala was close by, a constant shadow to them. Perhaps he had made a good decision with her after all. Crouching, he began to scrape the salt from one of the shallow basins.

“Senku!” Kohaku shouted from behind.

“What!” He yelled back.

“Why aren’t you wearing your fucking hat!”

He winced, dropping his head back. And now he understood why his Dad had been so pedantic about his language, because that just sounded hilariously wrong from her.

“Ahhhh,” he placed his hands together in a prayer, looking to the sky. “Sorry Dad, I might taint a whole society with my delinquency.”

00000

Time had really passed.

Was there anything more powerful than the passage of time? With even the universe itself slowly decaying under the oppressive force that dictated all life.

Senku took a deep breath.

He thumped his hand against the metal hull of the old oil tanker. This was real. He was awake and in this—he had to accept it—no—he needed to accept it—

He had to be all in.

No part of him could waver.

“If you did what I think you did, Dad…” Senku scratched at the rusted metal. “I don’t know…I…I…don’t…”

He didn’t want to think about it, to comprehend the possibility that his father had live a lifetime without—without—them—

Shite.

It was just too much, right now. Maybe he’d manage to compartmentalize it eventually; the notion that Byakuya had left him more than the moon and the stars to aim for.

“What are you thinking?”

Senku startled.

Kohaku had snuck up on him. Her voice echoed within the empty depths of the ancient ships hull that expanded all around them. She’d done the same thing the night before. She was really good at sneaking up on him.

Well—

He wasn’t really in the mood to tell her his current thoughts, so, he’d go with the other thoughts he’d been running parallel to his emotional breakdown.

“Trying to figure out how to salvage this ship. It’d save us a lot of work gathering iron sand. Steel is recyclable. We can bring it back to iron by adding more carbon. We can also use the steel to manufacture stronger structures…this is…this is a lot of steel. I just have no idea how to move it.”

She sat herself down on a fallen beam. “You’re thinking too big again.”

“I am.” He sighed.

“Do we have enough iron sand for what we need to do for the sulfa drug?”

“We do.”

“Do we need this…ship?”

“Not particularly. I’m being greedy.” He flashed her a grin.

“Will this ship remain here for now?”

“Yep.” His lips popped.

“Then we shall return, when we can move it.” Kohaku shrugged. “There, I have solved your problem.”

Senku arched an eyebrow at her smug look. “Wow…you’re a true genius.” He dragged out the words.

“Heh.” Kohaku tossed her hair. “Naturally.” She backed him up against the metal wall. “Now you should thank me.”

Oh—really? Should he?

Alright. Sure.

Senku gripped her wrist, ducking low and twisting, using the full momentum of his body to hoist her up and backwards. They both hit the soft sand with a heavy thud.

Kohaku was winded.

Guess she hadn’t expected it.

“How…how did you?” she spluttered.

“If you know where to apply pressure at certain points in the body, then you can momentarily weaken a muscle. If you know how to disrupt someone’s centre of gravity, you can flip them.” It was highly unlikely that he’d manage the actions in a real fight, or on someone any larger than Kohaku, but it was amusing to see the way her pupils dilated. He pressed her deeper into the sand with his knee. “Does that excite you?”

She breathing came in shallow little gasps. “Senku.”

Really, he should have been prepared for it, but he wasn’t, and he supposed he did deserve it. She tossed him, so expertly, and so smoothly, it made him wish he could download a martial arts manual from his brain into hers. She didn’t really give him much more time to think about ways to transfer knowledge, as he was very quickly having to shift gears as her mouth found his. Yeah—they’d unlocked a door, and there was simply no way to close it now. Not that he wanted too close it.

“I’m sorry…I…I’m sorry…” Kohaku pulled back. “I know you don’t like…”

He clutched at her arms. “Kohaku, it’s fine. I told you last night. I get that you’re a tactile person. I’m actually capable of dealing with my own inadequacies to accommodate those around me.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugged. “But there you go, see, you’re mindful…you care, Kohaku,” he tapped her chin, “that means something.”

Senku drew her into another kiss, this time making it slow and far less frantic. He had a feeling she was trying to make the most of having him alone, and it was true—

As she’d speculated the night prior, they probably wouldn’t get much time alone to breathe together upon their return home. That thought itched an annoyance in him that he hadn’t known existed before.

Kohaku reluctantly pulled away. She murmured against his ear, “You know, if your hands move any higher, you might have to disregard your pervious statement from last night.”

Senku snorted in amusement, but he slapped his hands down onto the sand, away from her thighs. Disappointing, yes, but he knew a request when it was made, even sarcastically.

He drew his attention away from Kohaku, and it became apparent that they were being watched. Senku turned his head—

Oh—

Thank fuck—

For a moment he’d thought it was Hiroto, or Suika.

But it was just Nala.

“Well, that’s not creepy in the slightest.” He sat himself up and Kohaku rolled off his lap at the movement. Nala’s tail flicked, she stood and walked casually away.

“I think she was guarding us.” Kohaku frowned.

Hiroto came running in.

Ah—

Guarding them from that—yep—

Senku covered his face, heaving a sigh.

“Senku! Chrome says we’re ready to goooo!” Hiroto twirled around jubilantly.

“Wow. Someone is full of beans.” Senku muttered as Kohaku took his hands and hoisted him up.

Hiroto puffed out his cheeks. “No! I am Pikachu! Full of electricity!”

“Right, right…yes…of course, how silly of me to not see that. Well, I guess that means this is a poke-ball and I…” Senku mocked up holding an invisible ball in his hand. “Have gotta catch you!”

Senku threw his little brother a grin, began cackling and tore after him.

Hiroto squealed in glee as they both ran—because they both could.

Chapter Text

They didn’t follow the same path back home. Chrome chose another route. He seemed to know the area well, having landmarks mapped out in his head. It was still eerie, and Senku’s chest still ached from the weight of the centuries, but a solid sense of acceptance had settled on his shoulders.

Kohaku had been right; he’d needed this trip. He’d needed to see more of the world that was now his world, this new world—he’d needed to face the reality head on—the reality that he could not, and would never be able too, bring back the modern world as it had once been. Whatever he achieved in his lifetime, would be something completely different than what had once been.

Senku clutched at the wagon’s handle as he heaved it over the rocky riverbed. The unknown terrified him as much as it excited him. And here he was having fun trying to push a wagon through a river as Hiroto and Suika shouted out encouragement. It was the funniest thing he’d ever found himself doing. He was supposed to be in his last year of high school, but nope, he was pushing a wagon through a shallow river.

“Dude, I think the wheel is caught.” Senku sagged on the handle. “Chrome! Can you check the wheels.”

“On it!” Chrome sloshed in the water.

Kohaku relaxed, giving herself a shake and stretch. She cocked her head at him. “You’re doing well.”

“Heh.” Senku scoffed. “Pretty sure you’re doing all the work.” He rubbed at his aching shoulders. “Usually, Taiju would do all this hard labour shite.”

“Then perhaps it is a good thing Taiju is not here.”

Senku frowned. How was it a good thing? Taiju was his best friend. Not having Taiju around was terrible.

“It means you get to grow.” Kohaku poked him.

Er. It did? Really? He’d never thought of it that way. Had he used Taiju as an excuse?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Senku sent Kohaku a smile. “I hadn’t looked at it from that perspective before. Sometimes we need a fresh set of eyes.”

Kohaku nodded shily.

The wagon gave a rattle and Chrome’s head popped up over the edge. “I got the wheel free! I used the power of leverage!”

“Simple, yet effective.” Senku grabbed the wagon’s handles in tandem with Kohaku and they both thrust forward. It was more than they dragged the wagon through the rocks than it rolled, but, they did reach the other side eventually and were able to finally start rolling up the small peak to rest on the crest. Senku knocked back his hat, looking out in awe at the sight that greeted them.

A grassland plain.

Hiroto and Suika leapt out of the wagon and like bullets, they just sped off into the meadow, both vanishing from view due to the height of the grass. Senku gave Nala and tap on the head. “Go after them please…”

She lumbered her way out of the wagon, looking up at him expectantly. Senku dug around in one of his bags, finding a piece of dried meat that he handed to her.

“Wow. Don’t run or anything.” He called out as she strolled on after the kids. Nala’s tail flicked at him. “Lazy cat,” he mocked.

He reached for one of the grass heads, snapping off the stork to study it curiously.

Hang on—

“This is foxtail millet.” Senku looked out across the plains again. It wasn’t wheat, and it wasn’t buckwheat, but it was about as good as he was going to get for now. He could work with this. “How far are we from Satellite Point?” Senku turned to Kohaku where she was propped up on the wagon, chewing on a piece of dried meat as she rested.

“Satellite Point?” Kohaku arched an eyebrow in query.

“The name of our settlement. Chrome and I came to a compromise.” Senku snorted. “No way was I calling it ISS. Super lame. So, Satellite Point. Still lame, but it’ll do. I just have to process it like a video game save point.”

She nodded, as if she understood him. “We are not far. Perhaps an hour now.”

That was an hour in her time—so—it was more like four hours his time.

Still doable.

“Great. The kids can walk then.” Senku clapped his hands. “Let’s bundle as much foxtail up as we can and load it into the wagon.” He bounced happily. “Chrome! We need some more rope!”

“I have rope!” Chrome shouted from somewhere amongst the field of foxtail. Okay. When had Chrome gone and gotten lost? Mental note: also make Chrome a bell.

Kohaku leapt off the wagon and removed her blades. “Why do you wish for foxtail?”

“Well…” he rubbed the tip of the foxtail between his fingers. “If I need a workforce, then I have to pay them adequately, don’t I?” He flashed her a grin. “I shall continue to prove my Dad wrong, and show that I am, indeed, allowed in the kitchen.”

She stared at him for a moment before giving a small laugh. “Wait…hang on…you’re…you’re going to attract the villagers with food?”

Senku leant forward, pressing their noses together. “Well, it worked with you, didn’t it?”

Kohaku sucked in a sharp breath. “Shut up. It did not.”

“Hm. Mh.” He mocked, “Sure, well, it can’t be my endearing personality.”

Kohaku playfully twirled around. “You’d be surprised.”

Oh, really? Heh. Good to know.

Chrome slid up to him. “Did you guys—”

Senku shot him a glare. “Would you like me to turn your hair blue for a month?” he threatened.

Chrome looked thoughtful. “Is that a trick question?”

Well, it hadn’t been, until now.  

Senku grinned. Chrome mirrored his grin.

000000

The afternoon sun was beautiful, and not as harsh as it was when directly overhead. Senku removed his hat and coat, tipping back his head as the spring breeze cooled his pooling sweat. They’d finally finished collecting the last bundle of foxtail and firmly tying it all down into their wagon. Senku rubbed at his sweaty neck as he sipped water, leaning wearily on the wagon. It was going to take more than an hour to get home with the load they were lugging.

“The kids are asleep.” Kohaku walked up to him. “Chrome thinks we should stay the night.”

“What do you think?”

Kohaku sighed. “I think it would be pointless to press on when we are so tired.”

She was being kind. She could have pressed on.

“Then we’ll stay. It’s nice a spot.”

“It is.” She brightened. “I will go hunt. I will be back.”

“Be careful.” He offered idly.

Kohaku looked back at him, and her smile caught him of guard. He had not expected such a joyful look from such simple words. He wondered if it was similar to the first time he’d told Byakuya to come home safe.

“I will be.” She dashed away.

Senku blinked. That felt like emotional backlash, as though he was seeing Byakuya at the door of their apartment, so vibrantly happy that he’d said something after the adoption. Senku swallowed saliva, trying to dampen his dry mouth.

He dropped his shoulders back and thumped his head against the bails of foxtail. If he had some time, then he was going to make the most of it and clean himself of the mixture of mud and sweat, that’d help clear his head of all this nonsense. Senku glanced at the sun’s height. Hm. Should be alright to get rid of his sun protection now.

He ducked, checking Hiroto and Suika curled up with Nala beneath the wagon. Completely dead to the world. He doubted they’d have managed any more walking today, so, it was probably good thing they were stopping the extra night. Forcing tired, grumpy children to walk might have been worse than forcing himself to walk, he at least had a shut-up button in his brain—

Well—

Most of the time.

He headed around the wagon, grabbing his leather bag from the front. He made a beeline for Chrome, who was busy making a fire with rather enthusiastic gusto.

“I’m going to the river to wash; can you watch the kids?” Senku motioned with a thumb back at the wagon.

“Sure.” Chrome looked to the fire with narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” Senku asked.

“Trying to figure out why the fire is a chemical reaction and not a physical reaction.”

Senku opened his mouth, only to stop himself. No. He had to let Chrome learn and think on his own. Senku smiled. “You’re doing great, Chrome.”

“Thanks.” Chrome murmured. “I’m trying.”

“That’s how it starts.” Senku assured.

00000

It was with great satisfaction that Senku hastily removed his leather shoes and coat, leaving himself in the simple blue linen wrap Kohaku had basically bullied him into wearing. Not that he was complaining about it. It was so much nicer to wear than heavy leather. He still hadn’t figured where the villagers got their linum usitatissimum from, how they cultivated it, or how they’d even known how to cultivate it for making clothing.

“Going to presume it’s somewhere in the Hundred Tales.” Senku mused.

Though he knew there wasn’t anyone around, he still hesitated, he still took a glance about before shrugging off the shirt from his shoulders. It hung loose around the belt, still full of his equipment. He wasn’t that trusting that he’d completely get naked. Pretty sure that was wilderness survival rule number one.

He stepped into the shallows of the river, sighing in delight at the cool water around his hot, aching ankles. With a heavy thump he sat himself down, ignoring that his clothes were getting soaked in the wet grass. Using a small cup, he dumped water over his head. A delightful shiver goosed his skin. Wearily he began the task of scrubbing off the caked on mud that coated his arms, neck, face and legs. He no doubt looked ridiculous, but it was better than ending up so sunburnt that he couldn’t move.

Once the mud was off, he worked on the few sunburn spots, gently rubbing in cream from a small pot in his medical supplies. He was rather sure there were spots on his back he couldn’t reach, because he was sore and itchy.

“Do you need some help?” Kohaku asked.

Senku swore, almost dropping the pot of cream.

She stepped into the river. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Oh—from the way her face was practically glowing like a lightbulb, she was not sorry in the slightest.

“Dude. That is becoming a habit. Stop it.” Senku clutched at his chest. His poor nerves. She giggled at him.

“Need help?” she offered again.

Senku arched an eyebrow at her. She was covered in blood. Her clothes were covered in blood. None of it hers, obviously, otherwise he’d have been panicking. But it was still a little grotesque, and no, he wouldn’t let her near him.

“Ah. After you wash off all that blood…sure…”

Kohaku looked down at herself as if she hadn’t even noticed her state. “Oh.” She squeaked. “Um. Right. Sorry. The rabbits must have bleed all over me.”

Guess he was making rabbit stew then.

Senku averted his gaze as Kohaku pulled off her wrap entirely and crouched to clean the bloodied clothing and herself. He was really going to have to adapt to how casual their culture was about nudity, as there was no way he wanted to bring his preconceived notions of shame and embarrassment upon those who didn’t seem to express such concepts in regard to self-perception. It wasn’t that how he perceived the world was wrong either, he had to make that line clear in his head. It all just further cemented his belief that he was the one who was the alien here. He was the one out of time and place. And he didn’t want to intrude upon what was uniquely theirs.

Water sloshed about and he startled, realising Kohaku was standing directly in front of him. She was enfolding herself back up in her wet linen wrap, but it didn’t matter, he’d seen enough to imprint on his retinas. Heh. Maybe this was a cure for the numbers. Yeah. This was totally a positive thing, and he was hundred percent not regretting telling her he’d wait. Not. At. All.

She snatched up the pot of cream from his hand and stepped around him, kneeling behind him to work on his back. “Someone was naughty and didn’t keep their coat on,” she chided.

“Someone was pulling a wagon and got hot.” He retorted.

“Bad excuse.” She sat herself down beside him, handing him the pot. Senku added it back to his medical kit, folding the supplies up and packing the equipment away. Kohaku lazily kicked her feet back and forth in the river, splashing water.

 “You know, you need some tattoos; your arms are so bare.”

What? His arms were fine. Senku reached up, brushing at the pale skin. “That sounds like a sure-fire way to get an infection and die.”

“My people have been performing our traditions for generations and no one has died.”

He could just hear the offense in her tone, but he wasn’t apologising for this one.

“That you know of,” he drawled. “Though, out of sheer curiosity, do they have meanings?”

“Many meanings.” Kohaku drew her leg up, revealing her thigh. Since he had permission to look, he did. She pointed to the intricate lines. “This marks me as the chief’s daughter, this was my first hunt kill, this one…” she motioned to the shell design around her arm. “Is my warrior mark.” Then she forced his gaze back down to her thigh. “This means I reached maturity, and this here, this will be where our knot will go, after we make our claim before The People.”

Oh. So, there was a final step to this marriage. Good to know.

“Presuming I get one of those as well.”

“Yes.”

“Well, there you go. I’ll get a tattoo then, heh.” He shrugged. “That’ll be my first.”

She looked rather pleased for some reason. Guess he’d said the right thing. Bonus points. Apparently, she really liked the idea that she was the reason for his first tattoo. That was very amusing, and he really—really wished Taiju was around to laugh about it.

Fuck.

He missed Taiju.

The oaf would have gotten a real kick out of all this. Senku, the Science Delinquent, getting a tattoo because of marriage. Yep. Totally sounded like a sane and logical progression of his life.

She leant against his shoulder. “I wish we could just stay like this.”

Senku gave her leg a pat. “I know, but, let’s not abandon Chrome to babysitting duties.” He stood, slipped back into his coat and tugged on his shoes. They tracked their way through the trees together, breaking out of the shadows they cast into the low sunlight dipping across the plain of shimmering foxtail millet. The breeze made the grass dance.

Senku jerked to a halt, causing Kohaku to looked back at him in concern.

“Fucking horses.” Senku flung out his hands at the grazing animals in the meadow. Magnificent animals, each one of them, gorgeous to behold. “Ah, man! You guys have been living next to a herd of horses and you haven’t done anything about it.”

Kohaku just blinked at him, completely baffled at the hysterical pitch in his tone. “Why would we?”

He slapped his face, groaning. No—no—don’t, Senku, don’t be a dick. Oh, the temptation was strong.

“Horses have basically been man’s best friend since the dawn of time itself.” Senku sighed, leaning on a tree, watching the herd lingering in the field.

“Well then, why don’t we go and get one if it’s that important to you.” Kohaku offered, she readied herself to charge forward.

Senku snatched up her shoulder. Gosh. She was like a bullet in a pistol. “Hold it. You don’t just run and grab a horse. Sheesh.” He bumped her hip playfully. “Though, you’ll be something else on a horse.”

 Wait. Nope.

Senku stumbled, losing his footing. That mental image broke him. Whoops. Quick. Brain. Reset. Reset. Reset.

“I don’t understand.” Kohaku’s hands settled on her hips, in her usual manner to show her displeasure at his ramblings.

“You will, Lioness.” He gathered himself, slapping his cheeks. “Come on. Let’s not lose daylight.”

Or lose his ability to keep his young adult hormones in-check.

“What about the horses?”

“We’ll need Chrome’s help. These are wild horses. It’s highly likely that we won’t catch one straight away…and even then, it takes a lot of work to gain the trust of a horse.”

“Hmp.” Kohaku scoffed. “We’ll see about that!”

He glanced back at her. Her gaze was completely transfixed on the herd. Welp. She had her mind set on a goal, and she did tend to get what she wanted.

000000

It fucking took them the rest of the afternoon and into the evening to catch two horses, because one horse wasn’t enough for Goddess Warrior Kohaku. Senku flopped onto his bedroll. Never again. He was never doing that again.

“My life flashed before my eyes.”

Kohaku blew a huff. “Stop being dramatic.”

“It charged right at me!” Senku rolled around, flinging up his arms. “I could have died!”

“Must be as attracted to you as Kohaku is.” Chrome slapped the cooking pot down by the fire.

Kohaku sent him a glare and Chrome raised his hands in flax innocence.

“Well, I caught them. Now what?” Kohaku turned to him with a proud tilt to her chin. She was very pleased of her accomplishment, and he had to admit, it had basically been all her. She’d been the one doing the running around and chasing down the horses while he and Chrome were terrified little beans.

“Don’t try to ride one, you’ll just hurt yourself and the horse.” Senku hoisted himself up, moving to the fire and the skinned rabbits. He supposed he should get around to making dinner, Chrome was looking a bit agitated as he bounced by the cooking pot.

“Errr, you’ve trained a lion. A horse can’t be any harder.” Chrome complained.

“Much harder.” Senku shook his head. He looked over at Nala, munching on some poor creature she’d caught. He did not want to know. He raised his hand and immediately her ears flicked, noticing his movement. He clicked his fingers, and she responded, heading right towards him. He placed a hand against her head, offering her a piece of meat from his pouch. She rubbed herself fondly around him several times before trotting back to her own meal.

“I’ve tamed Nala. It’s not a natural thing. She is, and will never be, a normal lioness. We found her young enough, that while raising her with us, it altered her.”

He motioned to the horses. “With horses, it is about forming trust.”

“I can do that.” Kohaku nodded.

Senku smiled up at her. “If anyone can, it will be you.”

Her cheeks went red, and she slapped a hand into his face.

Senku chuckled. It was amusing what embarrassed her.

00000

Home.

Home was an idea.

The house—or the ‘hut’—was the embodiment of the idea made manifest.

For every soul there could only ever be one ‘home’ – the echo of childhood, an unreachable and unobtainable place, and for Senku, it felt more and more like a he was looking back at a hazy dream. The home he’d known with Byakuya, he wanted to crystalize it in his memory, like a snow globe on a shelf—only the snow kept blurring his vision of what-had-once-been.

Home.

Byakuya had been home.

Had his home left when Byakuya went to space?

A house though, man could have many houses over a lifetime, each one unique to a phase of life, rooting them to the world. There was a constant search, a forever need, desire, to seek the first home.

The nostalgic home.

And so walls would be build, comforts would be created, and memories built up, like brick upon brick.

But never would that hazy mist part, and never would the home of yesteryear return.

Byakuya was gone.

Only a snow globe remained. On a shelf. In his memory.

Senku looked around the now named Satellite Point settlement. Nothing seemed out of order. They had returned to an undisturbed home.

Yes.

A home.

He could not keep chasing the idea.

He had to ground himself in this reality, and build his hut.

“Anything to report?” He asked Kinro.

“It has been uneventful.” Kinro offered. “Much to Ginro’s great displeasure.”

Senku looked over his shoulder to the lounging Labrador that was Ginro, making a half-hearted attempt at helping Kohaku and the kids unload the wagon.

“He’s welcome to work more.” Senku offered.

Kinro rolled his eyes.

Senku slapped his hands together, grinning. “Ah well, maybe what I cook up will enthuse him to help me and Chrome build a windmill powered generator.”

“Whoo! Yeah!” Chrome burst out of the Treasure Hut door and swung himself down, landing with a thump. Senku looked over at the bloomery and the trompe. He needed to have everything ready to go, because getting the bloomery going was such an enormous task. He didn’t want to waste the energy and resources to just smelt a little iron.

“Hiroto!” Senku called out. “Can you go and grab my design book.”

“Yes!” Hiroto flung up his arm. “I’m on it!” His little brother blurred past him, running for their hut.

“Senku…” Kinro’s tone had pitched higher in query.

“Er. Yeah?”

“Why do you have horses?”

Oh. Heh. Kinro didn’t look overly amused by this new development.

“Because my fiancée apparently wanted two, and who am I, but a humble man, to deny her want she wants.” Senku tossed his hands around.

“Just say no.”

“Dude, have you tried that.”

Kinro’s brow lifted. He sighed.

Senku gave a nod. Yeah. Affirmed. Thank you.

“Why, still? Horses are dangerous.”

“They’re actually incredibly helpful, once you establish a bond with them. They’ll revolutionize our small pocket of humanity, though, they do take a lot of work…that is now Kohaku’s problem. She wanted them.” Though he was going to have to build a stable and a proper pen for them. Gah. More things to do.

“I will take one.” Kinro folded his arms stoutly. “Kohaku!” He shouted. “Which is your horse.”

“The blueish-grey one, with the pretty spotty socks.”

Senku chuckled. That’d been Hiroto’s descriptor. Spotty Socks. It wouldn’t surprise him if the horse ended up getting named ‘Spotty’—the poor, poor magnificent beast. His offering for a name had been Rhyolite, which he thought was far more appropriate.

Kinro nodded. “I will take the gold one.”

Kohaku grinned from where she stood in the wagon, two bales of foxtail over her shoulders. “I caught it, just for you. See Senku! I told you he’d want one.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, fine.”

“Hey, why don’t I get a horse.” Ginro protested in a loud whine.

“Because you’d kill it within a day.” Senku shouted across the settlement. “Prove to me you have some responsibility in your bones, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Kinro was studying him with a thoughtful look. Senku arched an eyebrow at the stoic monolith as Hiroto ran up to him with his design book. “What?” Senku inquired.

“You act like a chief.” Kinro tossed the comment at him idly.

Senku froze, then he blew a rasp. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

A small, annoying, wiry smile sneaked over Kinro’s lips. He turned away, saying nothing else. Senku glowered at his retreating back. Hiroto bounced next to him, thrusting the design book up into his chest.

“Here. Here. Here. Here.”

Senku sighed. He rested a hand on the bouncing Torchic that was his little brother. “Alright, alright, chill you little fireball of death.”

Kohaku had put Hiroto in an orange and red dyed outfit because ‘it matched his eyes’ but all it did was make him look like one of his beloved little pokemons, especially with his straw hat on.

Senku took his design book. “Thank you.”

As he flipped through the sketches he wandered in the direction of the wagon. Kohaku and Chrome had unloaded most of their collected treasures from the trip and now Chrome was using the brilliantly installed pulley system to lift the salt into the Treasure Hut. So much easier than making someone carry loads up and down a ladder.

Kohaku slapped her hands on her thighs. “So, what do you wish me to do now?”

Er—

She looked over at him in amusement at his stiffened state.

“You alive?”

“Barely,” he muttered.

“Senku?” Her amusement turned to immediate concern. “Wait, are you overloaded?”

Overloaded? Where had she heard that term? Oh—right—the other night inside the ship ruins. Wow. She was getting really good at—

Senku blinked. Oh. That was the ground.

Kohaku grappled for him as he fell forward. “Ancestors, you are.” Kohaku called up. “Chrome! Get me cold water! Chrome!”

“I’m fine.” Senku attempted to stand without her support, but he couldn’t compress weight through his legs from paresthesia crawling and prickling in his feet and calves. Nope. Okay. Not fine. Really not fine.

His design book slipped from his hand, scattering pages and he grappled for Kohaku. She took his weight, bracing him. Shite. Shite. He’d been doing so well. Shite.

Senku inhaled.

He sagged, and gave in. There was no point to fighting this. He’d learnt that a long time ago. Guess he still had a limit, and he’d just found it.

000000

Kohaku flipped up the weave across the hut door and ducked her way in. She’d finished checking the parameter of the settlement with Kinro, and made sure the horses were safe under the Treasure Hut, with food and water. Ginro was tending to their fire for the night, and Kinro was taking first guard watch. She’d swap with him in the new day hours, then perhaps take Hiroto out on an early hunt. Right now, though, her presence was needed here.

Senku sat with his back pressed up on the main beam of the improved hut—now their hut—Senku had ‘added’ to its ‘structural integrity’. Even in the glow of the fish-oil lanterns hanging in the ceiling, he looked washed out, but, he was happily sketching. Chrome was lying flat on a mat beside him, and they were in deep conversation about the ‘windmills’.

Whatever the windmills were, Kohaku had no idea, but at least it was keeping Senku’s mind away from his collapse. She should have known. Pushing the wagon. Suika almost drowning. Collecting salt, and foxtail. More wagon pushing. The horses. He’d been incredibly animated and vibrant, chasing Hiroto and Suika, constantly chatting to Chrome, and even entertaining her. Had she been inattentive, not realising he was stretching himself to accommodate them all.

Senku’s attention slowly shifted towards her, his gaze felt piercing, as if he knew she was frustrated at herself. Kohaku tried to clear her face, but that only made him smirk a little. She shouldn’t even bother. He was so observant of every little detail, constantly assessing each of them, and their surrounds. She should have felt safe, and in awe of it—but not right now—right now it pulled at her chest with heat and sorrow. Because he could not turn it off, and it was hurting him.

“The kids finally clocked out about an hour ago.” Senku motioned to the hammocks strung up from the hut’s main roof beams.

Kohaku carefully tiptoed up to them, checking the curled up little bundles of Suika and Hiroto. Hiroto was hugging one of his grass stuffed toys, his little face wrinkled up in worry, and Suika—well—

“You managed to get her melon off?” Kohaku looked over her shoulder to Senku.

“We compromised. It’s not healthy for her to sleep in it.”

“A compromise?” Kohaku arched an eyebrow.

“He told them a bedtime story.” Chrome offered from his spot on the bed-mat. “Which they fell asleep half-way through.”

“That’s the point of bedtime stories,” Senku drawled. “To send kids to sleep, otherwise it’d be a wakey-time story.”

Kohaku pouted. She’d missed story time.

Senku tipped his head. “There is always another night.”

She smiled. “I know.”  

“Besides, they’re going to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.” Senku tapped his charcoal stick on his paper in a twitch. “All bright eyed and ready to terrorize.”

Kohaku tucked the furs around them both. “Such is the gift of childhood, to be without fear of responsibility.”

“Tell me about it.” Chrome grumbled. He sat up, giving a weary yawn and stretch. “Well, I’ll be off, and I too, will rise at the crack of dawn.”

“Just don’t come in here and belly flop me.” Senku retorted.

“Aw, that sounds like so much fun though.” Chrome moved to poke Senku, only to stop at the glare he was sent.

“Right. Sorry. No touching.” Chrome quickly apologised.

Senku held out the sketch he’d drawn. “Thanks for staying with me.”

Chrome shrugged. “It’s cool.” He took the sketch. “So, I’ll work on this tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine by then.” Senku assured. “But that’s your part of the job.”

“Neat!” Chrome gushed. “I’m on it!”

Kohaku snatched at him before he could dash out the hut. Chrome jerked to a halt, skipping a bit. He arched backwards, giving her a goofy grin. “Yes?”

“Before you do anything on these big projects, I promised old-man Kaseki that you’d make him up some new paints.”

“Ohh…yeah…” Chrome bubbled out a laugh. “Er. I’ll get on that!”

She released him and he practically flew out of the hut. Kohaku shook her head. Something told her Chrome wasn’t going to be getting to those paints any time soon. Nope. He was going to be dreaming up crazy, amazing ideas for Senku’s ‘windmill’ thingy. Oh well. Kaseki was rather understanding of Chrome’s chaotic ways. He’d be patient.

She headed to the weave over the door and fixed the seal across it that Senku had designed, wedging it in place so the wind would no longer flutter it about at night.  

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked as she tucked herself up beside him.

“Somewhat.” He held out his arms, frowning at how they still shook a little. “It’s weird. I’m usually a lot more self-aware. I can normally tell when I’m over-stimulated.” He looked pensive; his brow creased in frustration.

“You’ve been going nonstop for a few weeks, without many breaks.” Kohaku offered. “Maybe you should rest tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “That’ll just annoy me.” Senku dropped his head back, giving a sigh. “There is work to be done, exciting work, and I want to do it.” He clenched a hand. “I can finally do it.”

Senku pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m stuck in a loop of wishing I could turn my brain off, just for some peace, but then being terrified of…”

“The numbers?” she asked softly.

“No.” Senku dropped his shaking hands. “Nothing. Just nothing. Not even a void. Nothing.”  

“Can I touch you?” Kohaku asked, holding out her hands to him.

His vacant gaze shifted to her, some clarity returning again. “You don’t have to ask permission, you know. Dad never did. Hiroto doesn’t. Taiju, Yuzuriha. They never asked. I just adapted. I’m capable of adapting.”

He sounded hurt, irritated and frustrated all at one; at himself, and others—she wasn’t sure—but it wasn’t at all directed at her.

“Which makes it all the more important that I, your claimed one, asks, when you’re hurting like this.” Kohaku inched in closer. “I do not mean to indicate that you aren’t capable of adapting to me. What I mean…” she took a deep breath. “What we have is different, and I do not want you to ever feel like I’m…invading, or causing you more hurt, or—or—”

“Kohaku. Thank you for asking.” The way he looked at her with such immense relief told her she’d made the right decision. Was that it—was that all he’d wanted—was someone to ask him such a simple thing to release him from the exhaustion of needing to constantly be alert around everyone and everything.

Her skin prickled with pink warmth. Kohaku brushed at her loose hair, bobbing her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Slowly he raised his shaking hands, slipping them into hers. She shuffled closer, working herself into a comfortable position so she could focus on massaging each hand and arm. He stiffened at first, then immediately relaxed. He hadn’t withdrawn. Kohaku’s chest tightened at the gift he was giving.

From the moment she’d first seen him up close, as he dashed around the fallen tree, it had been his hands she’d noticed. Maybe it was the hunter in her, being vigilantly aware of where a man’s hands were at all times. How could one describe the hands of a healer. They hadn’t been soft, but they had been gentle, they’d acted with just as deliberate movements as her own strikes, but for an entirely different purpose than killing and maiming. Slender and strong, a grip fierce, most likely without him knowing it was.

No one would even be able to tell he had hair on his arms if they didn’t look close enough, or didn’t touch him to feel the faint texture. His nails where just as chipped as hers, and he’d gained new blisters from pushing the wagon, so she avoided those.

She worked in silence, until she heard his soft whisper.

“Where did you learn this…?”

“Hm? Oh, my mother, the Priestess before Ruri. It’s apparently some ancient healing art that’s been passed down through the Holy Lineage since the Ancestors.”

“Yeah…figures…”

Kohaku looked up in surprise, hearing him chuckle. She gripped his wrists. This was the first time she’d ever seen tears glint on the edges of his eyes. It wasn’t just sadness reflected in those tears; it was relief. Amusement tipped up his lips.  

“Dad really believed that someday…we’d meet.”

“Your father…he did this for you?” Kohaku murmured in awe.

Senku twisted their hands up together. “My Dad was a conniving old geezer. I am appreciating the puzzle box he left me.”

0000

Senku had expected Kohaku to snip and nag at him about overworking himself, but surprisingly, she did not murmur a word about his collapse as she stole his little brother away for a hunting lesson.

And now he was aware why she hadn’t said anything.

Because she had a wolf who would do it for her.

From his seat at his workstation, beneath the shade of the pergola, Senku stared up at Kinro’s looming frame. He rather felt like he was back in a school yard, being intimidated by the big-tall-kid again, only, it wasn’t to do their homework or cheat on their test for them.

“You will perform no physical labour today.”

“I can do what I want.” Senku stuck a finger in his ear.

“Suika.” Kinro turned to the little girl perched on the workbench and gave her a stout nod.

Aw.

Shite.

Kinro was pulling out the big guns.

“Senku. You will rest today, please.”

He was pretty sure that if he could see Suika’s eyes through her mask, she’d be making a goofy cutey face at him that would only make him laugh at how amusing this whole intervention was.

Senku raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. Okay.”

Adoptive daughter card won this little scenario. He was—and always would be—a total lame sucker for those he cared for. Not that he was really overly invested in fighting that part of his personality. Besides, he was pretty sure he could use it to his advantage, and he did love advantages he could manipulate.

Suika bounced, huddling Chalk to her chest.

Senku innocently toyed with his hair, trying to appear harmless. “Right, well, since I’m confined to not doing shite, then I guess you and Ginro can be my lackies.”

Kinro sighed. “What do you need?”

Senku grinned. Yay! That worked. He grabbed for his pile of design sketches, sorting through them.

“Okay. So…what I need is two hugely tall trees.” He passed over a picture. “Think you and Ginro and cut down and bring me two tall trees that we can form into the centers of our windmills.”

Kinro tapped his chin thoughtfully, then gave a stout nod. “It will be done.”

“Thank you.” Senku leant his chin lazily on the palm of his hand. “In return, I’ll make us a wonderful dinner.”

Kinro’s brow creased. Senku held up his hands quickly. “I promise, nothing strenuous.”

“I’ll be watching him.” Suika saluted.

Senku gave her smile. “Well, since we’re stuck on desk duty today, how about we make some oils and soaps, I can teach you some very basic chemistry.”

“Did you say basic chemistry?! I want in!” Chrome shouted from somewhere in the settlement.

“We will fetch your logs.” Kinro placed a hand on his shoulder. Senku forced himself not to stiffen. Right. Yep, well, proof he hadn’t really recovered if he was that reactive.

As Kinro left, he was replaced by an energized Chrome, who practically flung himself onto the workbench in excitement. “So? Chemistry? Yeah?”

Heh. Nope. Senku narrowed his glare.

“Have you finished making the copper wiring?” Senku asked.

Chrome threw his arms back. “Well, noooooo.”

Senku eased himself up. “Alright, show me what you’re having trouble with.”

“I’m not really having trouble…” Chrome rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s more that I just want to make sure it’s right.”

“A lot of science is trial by error.” Senku offered. “I’m purposely giving you vague instructions and guides so that you can learn and discover different techniques on your own.”

Suika followed them as they headed to the currently unlit bloomery, and the smaller kiln that Chrome was using. It took far less energy to light it and keep it at a stable temperature than it would take to ignite the full bloomery. Once they bloomery was going, they would need to smash out as much of their iron smelting as possible.

“I get that.” Chrome shuffled. “But I don’t feel at all equipped to do any of what you’re making me do.”

“You’re a lot more competent than you give yourself credit for.” Senku assured. “Okay…so…what have you done?”

Chrome nodded. “You wanted me to come up with a way to make the copper wiring, so, I formed these clay molds. Will they work?” Chrome motioned to the large flat bases lying out in the sun. Senku studied them. Chrome had made clay trays, then found a thin stick, and formed swirling indentations around and around in coils upon the trays until all the space was consumed. It was crude, and it would be a rough casting, but it should work for what they needed right now.

“Heh, yeah, that’ll work.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Neat!” Chrome beamed.

Senku sat himself down on a log. “Alright, so, I’ll sit here and do nothing, under the supervision of Nurse Suika.”

She giggled beneath her melon.

“And watch you cast the copper.” Senku gestured.

“Right! Yeah! Let’s do this!” Chrome thrust his fists into the air and bounced away to his casting tools. Senku shuffled on his seat, letting Suika join him. Ruffling around in the little pouch he stored treats in for Nala, he tugged out a piece of dried meat, handing it to Chalk. The wolf cub was still small enough for Suika to carry around, and she did so in a little carry bag. At this rate, she was going to tame the creature by just sheer close proximity bond.

“Why do we need cooper?” Suika asked.

“Oie, Chrome, throw me some cooper.” Senku called out.

A piece of cooper was ditched at him and he snatched it up, handing it to Suika so she could feel it over. “Cooper is a highly conductive metal.”

“What does conductive mean?”

“Conductive means…hm…” Senku paused for a moment. How to explain the concept of electricity to someone who’d never even grasped the vaguest notions of its existence.

“Alright…so…” Senku splayed out his hands. “I want you to look out at the world around us, and take in everything you see. Can you do that?” At this point, Chrome had paused what he was doing and was leaning forward to hear the explanation as well.

Suika looked around curiously. “I see our home.”

“Yep. Our home. That’s true.” Senku smiled. “Well, everything in the world, all around us, is made up of particles called protons,” he held up three fingers, “neutrons and electrons. Now, when electrons move around, that is what we call electricity. It is a form of energy, electrical energy. You’ve already witnessed this energy before, you’ve seen it many times.”

“I have?” Suika gasped. “Really?”

Senku nodded. “During storms, when the sky lights up with bright flashes, that is the flow of electricity from a cloud to the ground, or between two clouds. It is that electricity, that energy, which we are trying to create with a windmill generator.”

“Whoa…can we really make lightning?”

“Okay, gonna be honest, making electricity is the easy bit, conducting it, and storing it, and using it, those are harder parts. We’ll need a lot more science for that.”

“So…what is a conductive metal then?” Suika asked again.

Senku motioned to the copper she held. “What do you think it means?”

He waited. She looked towards Chrome’s clay trays. “You’re making string.”

“Wire.”

“Oh. So…that will move the electricity.”

“Yeah. Well done.” He gave her melon a pat. “A conductive metal means that it can carry an electrical current, or, as you said, it can move electricity around. Back in my era, whole cities were lit up by electricity.” Senku shook his head. “I think we barely began to scratch the surface of what was capable.”

“Then that’s what we should aim for!” Chrome burst out.

Senku arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well…come on, cooper doesn’t melt itself.”

“Oh…right…yeah.” Chrome sheepishly shuffled back to his own workstation.

Senku smiled.

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Kohaku tapped Hiroto’s elbow gently, making him pull the joint in.

“That’s better.” She gave her tongue a click of approval at his loose, easy stance, holding the bow poised at the target. She had truly wanted him to use the bow she’d had when she’d been his age, but approaching her father to inquire about its whereabouts didn’t seem at all proper right now, so, they’d made one together.

Which, in the end, had been a better learning experience for Hiroto. It seemed to be that he was a very good at practical learning, grasping what she showed him very quickly, sometimes only needing to see her perform an action once or twice before he understood the mechanics.

The target on the tree flicked a little as the arrow nicked it.

The issue was not his understanding of the mechanics, it was now down to—well—as Senku had tried to explain, something about pattern recognition and neurological pathways.

Hiroto’s brow knitted in irritation, very similar to his brother’s unconscious pouting when he also, didn’t get something right.

“Go on, fetch the arrow.” Kohaku urged.

Hiroto darted away quickly. Kohaku gathered up their equipment. They’d caught a few birds, and a rabbit, enough for her to trade for the things Senku was desiring in the village for his evil masterplan. Kohaku shook her head. He had the funniest warmth and happiness in his eyes when he got all excited about—

Well—

Helping people.

That’s really what was at his core. It’s what made her chest tighten every time she glanced in his direction. Kohaku covered her face.

“Are you being weird and gooey again?” Hiroto asked.

Kohaku squeaked.

She looked down, finding him standing directly in front of her. With the mud-paint caking him, and his straw hat, and the muted clothing she’d put him in, he was barely visible in the forest.

“Gooey?”

“Yeah. Gooey. It’s how Taiju would get like when he thought about Yuzuriha, or how Dad would get when he talked about Miss. Lillian…and how Senku would get when he talked about rockets.”

“Senku must have really liked rockets.” She had the vaguest notion of what rockets were from her conversations with Hiroto. Rockets went into space. Space held the sun, the moon, the stars, and the Earth they stood on, and whole other worlds as well.

“I donno. Sometimes it made him sad, so, he stopped talking about them.” Hiroto shuffled, playing anxiously with his bow. “Senku was sick. They’d never let him go to the Moon. You have to be super strong, and really healthy to be an astronaut, like Dad! Being an astronaut is one of the bestest, best things a human can ever, ever be! Though…Dad said that being a dad was the bestest thing, so, maybe an Astronaut Dad is like, the super-best-thing!” Hiroto’s shoulders sagged. “I miss him.”

Kohaku crouched down. “I know it was scary yesterday, with Senku falling over, but he only overworked himself.”

“What if he dies!” Hiroto clutched at his bow in a sudden, desperate panic. “I’m scared!”

“I know. I know you’re scared.” Kohaku brushed at his hair. “You’re very brave.”

“I’m not strong enough yet.” Hiroto worried. “If Tsukasa comes back, he will hurt you, and Senku, and Suika!”

Kohaku swallowed. She wasn’t entirely sure if she should tell Senku just how anxious Hiroto was about Tsukasa. She’d hoped training him would give him something to focus his mind on, to feel confident in this new world, but the child still worried.

“It’s okay Hiroto, you are improving.” Kohaku assured.

“But I’m still not ready for my first hunt. Andy had his first hunt!” Hiroto pouted.

Had she been this impatient once—no—she still was sometimes. Especially when she worried about Ruri. Kohaku placed her hands on his shoulders. “You cannot compare yourself to anyone else but you, okay. For someone who came from a totally different world, you’ve come so far.”

Hiroto gave a small nod. “Okay…I guess…”

“Now. It’s time to practice tree hopping. Hopefully your brother won’t give that scowl of his about it.”

Hiroto giggled.

“I mean it, his scowl of disproval is awful.” Kohaku bemoaned. All he had to do was just glance at her with his eyebrows slightly creased and she felt her stomach tightening.

“Yeah, he learnt that from Dad. Dad was a people expert, or something. I didn’t understand. Hm. He was good with people, and Senku studied it, and learnt it. Dad said it made him dangerous.” Hiroto slipped his little bow around his shoulders.

“It seems we have all learnt many things from your father.” Kohaku murmured softly to herself as hoisted herself up a tree, glancing down to watch Hiroto follow her with a little more clambering and jostling about. His legs and arms weren’t long yet, but that would change, she had a feeling he was going to be a little taller than Senku someday.

Not many in the village were capable of tree hopping, and if she could teach Hiroto at an early age, he would gain a vital position as a scout.

“Right, so, we’ll tree hop back to the village and collect all those supplies your brother wants for his evil masterplan.”

Hiroto flung his arms up, bouncing around on a branch, proving with the action just how comfortable he already was with the height and his natural inclination to balance. “Ramen time! Yes! Senku promised me ramen three years ago!”

“What exactly is ramen?” Kohaku asked curiously.

Hiroto almost fell out of the tree in shock.

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Senku tightened the bamboo lid on the last bottle of hair oil. That should keep Kohaku—and by proxy, her sister—happy for a while. He cracked his fingers. It was good to get these little jobs out the road now, so, perhaps sitting on his arse for the day wasn’t such a bad thing. It hadn’t be totally awful, spending the time with Suika, and juggling overseeing Chrome’s wire-making attempts.

Senku arched an eyebrow of amusement at Suika. He held up the small oil bottle. “Oh no, I’ve forgotten which are for cooking and which are for bathing.”

She burst into laughter. “No you haven’t!”

“Well, it was worth a try.” He added the bottle to his growing supplies of hygiene products. “Can’t trick you, can I.”

Suika handed him a bar of soap, wrapped in beeswax coated linen. She’d made the soap herself. Her first science project. It was honey and lavender scented, made for Kohaku’s little hygiene kit they were putting together. “Can you actually forget things?” she asked softly.

“Sure, all the time.” Senku carefully folded up the shell necklace he’d made with some of the scrap cooper from Chrome’s smelting, fitting it into a smaller box he’d carved. He smiled as he added it to the wooden box kit, admiring the finished product that he was oddly proud of. He’d engraved the box-kit with Kohaku’s love of sea-shells and stars, and taught himself their family knot to make the rope to carry it. He just wished Yuzuriha was here to see his actual attempt at something this creative. It was—weird—how much he would have liked to her approval on it first, before he handed it to Kohaku.

“I don’t remember my birth parents much at all, despite having rather clear memories of that period of my life,” Senku offered. Sure, they were traumatic memories, but they were clear in his memory vault.

Suika swung her legs back and forth. “I forget mine too.” She touched the melon on her head. “I don’t know what they looked like, but…I remember their voices, and, sometimes, I dream about them.”

“Our minds do strange things to us.” Senku leant on the workbench. “We cope with pain and hurt in different ways. I think my brain was so hurt by losing my parents, it tried as hard as it could to erase them completely. Even just seeing photo…hm…” he tipped his head to the side, “drawings…of them triggered terrible meltdowns for me. From that, I deduce the car accident we were in was rather horrific.”

“That’s sad,” she whispered.

“It is.” Senku mused. “But I was only four, and it would be ridiculous to blame baby Senku for something he could not control.” He reached out, giving her chin a fond little knock. “What I’m trying to say is, don’t agonise to much over what you can’t change, and be patient with yourself over the things you can change.”

“What if I don’t change.”

“You will.”

“Or I can’t?”

“Sweetie, you’ll change, whether you like it or not. Humans are marvellously adaptive creatures.” He shrugged. “And again, it’s wholly up to you how you face that adaptability.” He flipped out his hands. “You’re welcome to be like me and become an insomniac and worry about every tiny detail in every fucking thing your brain can possibly perceive, but, I don’t recommend. Totally lame stress response.”

She giggled, only for that sweet happiness to be cut short. She gasped, jumping up abruptly. Senku snatched at one of the oil bottles before it toppled off the bench.

“Senkuuuu!”

Senku turned sharply at the shout.

“Hiroto?” His little brother smacked straight into him.

“Senku! Senku! Senku!”

“Calm down, Hiroto. Use your words.” Senku chided. Hiroto’s hat was gone. He was terribly sunburnt. Kohaku was going to get an earful tonight when they had a moment to themselves, and he could whinge at her.

“Senku! It’s Magma!” Hiroto grabbed his hand and yanked him forward. “He’s going to hurt Kohaku.”

“What?” Senku skipped a few steps before he broke into a run. He was aware that Chrome was following him, but beyond that, his whole focus had shrunk into a point as he slapped one foot in front of the other to dash down the path. It was at about halfway to the village that he rounded a corner and saw her.

Kohaku was on the ground, curled into a tight little protective ball. A complete trauma response. She wasn’t even responding to being repeatedly struck with Magma’s hefty foot in her side. His forward momentum didn’t halt, he moved with violently swift action, snatching one of Magma’s fingers and cracking it backwards, landing the larger man on the ground from the sudden pain.

“Go near my claimed one again, and I will break your hand to the point that you will never weld your axe.” Senku leaned into the broken finger.

“Senku! Stop!” He felt Chrome grapple for his shoulder in a panic, but his glare remained fixated on Magma’s suddenly wide eyes, bright with honest and raw shock.

Senku released Magma and turned sharply. He shrugged Chrome away and dropped to his knees beside Kohaku. She was stiff, inflexible, completely in a state of heightened fright. Fuck. How was he supposed to move her. She could lift him easily, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he could carry her. No. It wasn’t time to debate this. He simply had to act. She was somewhere in the upper fifty-kilogram range. He was capable of that. Surely. Senku hooked his arms under her and lifted. Which—was far easier than he’d expected. He shoved that surprise away into a box and put it aside for later. Surely it was all just about weight distribution. Yeah.

His gaze shifted back to Magma, who had dared to make a move to rise. The man halted reaching for his axe.

“If you ever come near our home again, I will follow through with my threat.” Senku felt Hiroto and Suika huddle against his legs. “I will shatter every bone in your hand, and I will do it with nothing but a fucking rock.”

He turned and headed back up the prayer flag riddled path, the kids latching quickly onto Chrome who ushered them away from Magma with a protective huddle.

“The one time we needed Kinro and Ginro, you send them to the other side of the lake.” Chrome finally spoke up as they reached the totem gate. He had his arms full of Suika and Hiroto wasn’t making it easy for him to move his legs, but he had prevailed with both kids.

“That’s just how it is.” Senku shuffled Kohaku slightly. “I’m going to our hut. Chrome—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got the kids. We’ll make dinner, yeah.” Chrome smiled warmly down at Hiroto.

Hiroto nodded shily. “Will…will Kohaku be…okay?”

“She will be fine,” Senku assured. “She just needs some rest.”

“Okay.” Hiroto latched onto Chrome even tighter.

Chrome ruffled Hiroto’s hair. “Come on. Ah. Let’s find you at hat first, then put some cream on your burns…then…Let’s make something really meaty for dinner! Kohaku loves her meat! That’ll cheer her up.”

Senku watched them head to the fire-pit and the cooking station. He wondered if it was a cultural thing, how good all the villagers were with kids. That they naturally seemed to immediately know how to look after each other’s kids. Had it been an early established custom that had become generational? Whatever it was, it was fascinating to see it in action.  

Slowly he turned and headed for their hut. Kohaku still hadn’t made a noise, or a movement, other than to stiffly clutch him around his neck in a desperate, frantic action. It was only when they were firmly inside their hut that he carefully eased her down. She resisted.

“Kohaku…” he urged. “I have a limit.”

That was enough. Her feet settled on the floor, but her arms remained around his neck and her head wedged itself into the curve of his shoulder.

He let her stay in that position, more so due to not really knowing what else to do. It wasn’t like Byakuya had ever sat down and told him how to handle a situation like this, or handed him a book, or a manuel that outlined it in detailed dot points. There was most likely some neat cognitive behavioural therapy mumbo-shite that’d have probably helped, but fuck-all had he totally tuned all that shite out at about Hiroto’s age. He had loathed the mind sciences back then—maybe still did—though it might have been more a repugnance of the people analysing him than the topic itself. Rather sure his psychiatrists had hated him as much as he’d hated them. Nothing like a too-smart, sarcastic, medically traumatized little brainiac to ruin a therapists day, and he had made it his mission to ruin their fucking day.

Sluggishly Kohaku folded down into the sleeping furs and he silently set himself the task of checking her bruising. Magma had been kicking without inhibition, and he was terrified of her having some internal injury he couldn’t notice until too late.  

“Kohaku, I need to know if anything is seriously hurting, this is important.”

She shook her head. “I would tell you.”

Would she? She was fiercely stubborn. It was a strange personality trait they both shared. He was rather sure that if they both got into a proper argument about something, neither of them would shift the goal post more over just sheer pride. But points of view, and different opinions where something else than wounds, hurts and emotions. He was rather sure he could trust her to be honest with him about her physical ailments.

Senku sighed and gathered her into his arms. She broke into sobs, finally unravelling.

“I’m so weak.” Kohaku choked out. “I am…I am disgusted—”

“Don’t.” Senku intoned sharply. “Your reaction was a perfectly natural response to a traumatic event.”

“I am a warrior. I…I am…I should not fear him.”

“Right now, your brain is doing its best to protect you from a threat, something that almost killed you. It’s logical. See it as logical. Stop fighting it. Stop putting yourself down.” He grasped her cheeks. “That is illogical.”

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” Kohaku murmured. “I hate being afraid.”

Senku tucked her up against him, settling them both against the large wooden beam of the hut to rest amongst the furs. “Sometimes, the only thing we can do with fear, is to let it win.” He sighed as he let himself relax. “To let it invade every part of us…and once it has consumed us, wholly and fully, then you can scrunch it up into a ball and cast it into the void of space.” He brushed his hand through her hair. “And it will never return from there.”

“Do you promise…” she whispered.

“Yeah. I do.”

Kohaku nodded, curling tighter into his lap. “Then just for tonight, I’ll be afraid.”

Senku pressed his forehead to hers. “That’s okay. I’ll be here.”

Because at least that was something he could do. It was what Byakuya had always done for him, and what he’d done for Hiroto. Sometimes, all someone needed, was just—

Someone.

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Kohaku stared at the weave across the door of the hut. She could hear Senku and Kinro’s voices outside, and knew they were talking about her, and about what had transpired, but she had no energy to get up and snark at them about it.

She winced, taking a breath. Senku didn’t think her rib was broken, but she was bruised, in the same spot she kept getting wounded in. Senku had not looked at all pleased as he’d applied a cooling paste and strapped up her chest. She traced her fingers over the bandages. How could she have allowed such a thing to occur. She couldn’t even recall the moments leading up to confronting Magma on the path home, just blackness. Was she truly that afraid of him, or was Senku right—was it just a response to having almost died at his hands, and she could defeat this monster inside her.

“I am truly pathetic—”

“Oie.” Senku was standing directly in front of her, holding two bowls of steaming hot stew. Kohaku gasped. When had he come in? She hadn’t even noticed. “I keep fucking telling you to stop with this self-pity bullcrap.” He sat himself down in a smooth action, placing the bowls beside him. “There is a stark difference between letting yourself feel an emotion and telling yourself an obvious lie.”  

Kohaku deflated, looking down at her hands nursed in the furs over her lap.

“I am sorry.”

Senku’s brow lifted. “Right. So, this is good to know early on.”

She frowned. “What is good to know?”

“That when you’re in your luteal phase, you don’t get angry or prissy, you get self-deprecating. Which you know, that fits, since your default is firecracker.” He twinkled his fingers around.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She huffed.

“Ah, thank you Dad, for forcing me to study medicine. I am so sorry for whinging about it.” Senku bent forward, burying his head in his lap. She had to smile at his groan. Slowly she reached out, taking up her bowl. Oh. It was her favourite meat dish. Chrome must have cooked.

“Are you annoyed at me,” she whispered.

“No. If I get annoyed, you won’t have to ask.”

“Oh.”

“I am here because I want to be. You are hurting. Why would I be anywhere else but here.”

His red eyes focused on her and Kohaku took a shuddering breath. He made the chaos seem so simple, despite it feeling so complicated. All the wonders of their world, and he broke it all down until her eyes could see it.

“Sometimes, we just need someone.” He eased himself up, heading for his work desk in their hut. “Trust me, I get that. Taiju would spend the night with me sometimes. He’d never say anything, we’d never really talk, that wasn’t the point. He needed to get away from his mother, and I needed the company.” Senku picked up something from the desk. “Humans are creatures that need companionship, even those of us who prefer to be alone, still desire that interconnectedness, which is a truly fascinating part of our design.”

“You see everything as though it is beautiful, even the sad things.”

“Because everything is beautiful.” Senku glanced back at her with a small smile. “Just waking up in the morning is incredible, I learnt that so early on.”

Her gaze flicked to the scarring down his chest as her fingers brushed up on her own wounds. Yes. Of course he had learnt that.

“Right! So, this seems like a perfectly appropriate time to give you this.” Senku held out an intricately carved wooden box, placing it gently in front of her.

Kohaku eased her bowl of stew aside and curiously cocked her head at the box. It didn’t look like Chromes handywork, or old-man’s Kaseki’s.

“Wait…” she lifted it, surprised at the weight, but she needed to get a good look at the designs etched into the wood. Shells and stars. The same patterns she would stitch into her clothing, the same designs as her tattoos, that he so often traced idly.

“Did you make this?” Her chest tightened, making the new bruising ache.

“Of course.”

“How?”

Senku wiggled his fingers at her playfully. “You’d be surprised what these can do.”

Kohaku crinkled her brow.

“Yeah, you’re not going to get that reference. Don’t worry. You will.” He had a wiry smirk, though it did very little to hide the heat tinting his cheeks.

Kohaku set the box down gently, smoothing her hands over it. He’d made her something. He didn’t even know their customs. He’d just gone ahead and done it.

“It’s beautiful, Senku.”

“Neat.” He shrugged.

She popped open the lid. “What is all this?”

“A couple of different things.” He leant over. “These are soaps, Suika actually made them, her first science project. Very cute.” He picked up one of the bottles. “This is for your scars, they seem to bother you at night, this should help numb them.”

Kohaku rubbed at her marred side. She was always shuffling about on the bedroll due to the pain, until just recently, when Senku had started patting at the scarring, the sensation of his caressing dulling the sharp discomfort. He was so attentive, noticing the strangest things.

“And skin oil for your hands, since you were complaining about your hands being rough.”

She looked at her calloused hands. Well. Yes, she had mentioned that.

“And hair oil.” Senku held up another bottle.

Kohaku brightened. “You made it!” She bounced happily.

“Couple of bottles for you. Don’t overdo it, or you’ll fuck up your scalp.”

“Thank you.” She watched as he reset everything into the box, and her eyes caught something he hadn’t pulled out. Another smaller box.

“What’s that one?” she motioned to it.

“Nah, you don’t have to open that.”

Oh. Well now she did.

Kohaku snatched for it. He almost grabbed it from her, but she rolled away.

“Fuck.” He hissed. She looked back at him and he’d buried his head in his lap.

“Tell me when it’s over.” He mumbled.

He was being dramatic, and she wasn’t sure if he was putting it on, or if he was truly embarrassed, which simply made her all the more curious. Kohaku popped the lid on the smaller box.

She gasped.

She’d never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

Ruri had always been the one who had been adorned and draped in jewellery, that had simply been the way it was. Sure, Kohaku had fashioned her own knot braids, and rock and shell bangles, almost everyone in the village did, but she would never have said they were beautiful—not—not like this delicate, ornate work.

“It’s made from cooper, gold, seashells and some dumortierite pieces that Chrome had lying around.” A fidgeting Senku hooked his chin over a knee, studying her with a lazy smile that made her cheeks warm.

Kohaku brushed her fingers over the gold and cooper, wrapped around the refined shells and gems that dripped down from the elaborate wiring. “I…I can’t wear this.”

“It’s fascinating to see you unsure of yourself.” He yawned, giving his eyes a rub.

Kohaku swallowed. He was still recovering. How had she forgotten that. She should have been the one worrying over him still, and yet, he was troubling himself with her. He eased himself up, and she took a sharp breath, despite the pain in her chest. The action only made him smirk.

She gave a small huff, which only seemed to amuse him even more. Senku slipped around behind her and her skin flecked at the feeling of his fingers gliding across her shoulders. He was deliberately slow as he fashioned the necklace in place. He bent over her and she gave a small laugh as he brushed at her damp cheeks.

“If you give me your tomorrows, I will give you my today,” he whispered.  

Chapter Text

Senku studied the box of cooper wiring. It was good. This was a success. He looked over at Chrome. “Well done. You did great.” 

Chrome looked like he was going to puff up and float from that praise. Powerful thing, praising Chrome. Could probably get Chrome to hike to Old Tokyo with just praise alone.

“Yeah? So…what are we doing today?” Chrome bounced in excitement. “Are we finally going to be smelting the iron to create super powerful magnets for our windmill generator?”

Senku thumped his head on his workbench. He wanted to say sleep. He seriously felt like he was the only one in their hut who hadn’t slept last night. Hiroto. Suika. Kohaku. Gah. Even the damned animals, Nala and Chalk, had all slept peacefully.

Him.

No.

He’d lay there, awake, staring at the ceiling like a moron. Not because of the numbers. Not because Kohaku was lying on him, making him realise his life was super weird, but because he finally had a moment to replay what he’d done to Magma.

Senku groaned. He was so dead. Why did he keep doing this! Why did he keep antagonizing men twice—no—three times—his size! Kohaku was right. With his luck, he was actually going to run into a bear next!

“You’re having an internal meltdown, aren’t you?” Chrome leant on the workbench beside him.

“Yep.”

“About Magma?”

“Yep.”

“Well, the guy had it coming…and…if it makes you feel better, in accordance with our ways, you were in the right to defend Kohaku. I mean…she’d kill someone for you, so, I’d say Magma got off super light.” Chrome flicked his hand about, as if he hadn’t just said something completely crazy. Did the village have a judicial system? Well—they had to—right? If Suika was the child of some banished couple, that meant, at some point, it’d been decided that couple had a reason to become ‘banished’.

“I broke his finger.” Senku mumbled into the workbench. Taiju wouldn’t be happy with him, and he loathed feeling that disproval, even if Taiju wasn’t even here. The power of Taiju. Senku snorted to himself.

He smelt Kohaku first before her hands touched his neck. She’d used one of the hair-oils he’d given her, with a lavender scent, and it tinted a small smile to his lips. It amused him that for all her confidence, she’d still been irritated by her hair, which made him ponder if—like himself—it had more to do with how it felt and less with appearance. Though he wondered if she’d figure out that he’d made her an unscented oil for hunting, cause he wasn’t going to tell her, he was going to be an arse and see if she noticed.  

She pressed up against his back, whispering into his ear.

“You must teach me this move.”

Senku grumbled. “What and make you more dangerous. I think not.”

Her hands slipped around his waist. “I could make it worth it.”

“I will kick you off the bedroll tonight.” He warned.

She quickly snapped her hands back.

“Yeah. Thought so.” He muttered into his arms on the desk. “You’re a real snuggle-bug.”

“Shut up.” Kohaku huffed.

“Make me.” He grumbled back. 

He should have expected getting manhandled into the kiss, considering her lousy mood the night prior. Guess somethings were worth staying up for. She released him, giving his cheek a little pat as she hoisted herself up onto the workbench. She looked so very proud of herself. Senku tapped the bench irritably. She had no idea what was coming to her. He would get his revenge.

“Someone is in a better mood.” He shrugged his stiff shoulders.

Kohaku toyed happily with her necklace. She raised her chin.

“Heh. I am fine. I scrunched up my fear and tossed it into space.”

Senku winced inwardly. Gah, that sounded just as corny from her as it had sounded from him, as it had sounded from his Dad, but if it worked—then it worked—so whatever. He hid himself back into his folded arms on the workbench. He was so fucking tired. Staying up late with a girl was draining. Now he really understood why they were supposed to be avoided if anything was ever supposed to get done.

He was never going to get shite done.

“How did you reach space?” Chrome sounded so honestly confused, it was very innocently adorable. Senku sighed. He did wonder how Chrome’s brain functioned.

“Rockets!” Hiroto shouted from beneath the workbench. “You strap your emotion to rockets and blast all your sadness into space! That’s what Dad told Senku to do, that’s why Senku built rockets.”

Senku choked on half an inhale of breath. Gah. What the fuck? Hiroto, for the sake of Niel Armstrong, please stop talking. He mentally groaned. It was too early in the morning for this. Had he invented coffee yet? No. Shite. Actually—wait—could he drink coffee now? Was that possible? Ohhhh. What if he could? Game Changer. 

Er. No, actually, maybe he shouldn’t test that bridge. Adding a stimulant to his life wouldn’t be an overly great idea.

Slowly he looked up, peering through his frazzled fringe at the very confounded looking Kohaku and Chrome just staring straight at him. He lazily swung himself back, giving a stretch and cracking his neck.

“Don’t let appearances deceive you, I’m a very emotional guy. So emotional, I didn’t know jack-shite what to do with those emotions as a kid, so, sometimes, you need to be creative so you can survive.”

“You built rockets?” Chrome burst out.

“Yes, Chrome, it was kinda the field I was aiming for.” Senku muttered. If he couldn’t go to the moon, at least he could build the rockets that’d send people into space. Still pretty cool.

Kohaku frowned. “I thought you studied healing.”

“Medicine, my Lioness. I studied that too.” Senku leant back on his folded arm, giving a sigh. “I existed in a perpetual state of boredom. It was better to be proactively studying than to blow up microwaves or end up in the police station…again…because I made the school floor lava…again…”

He heard Hiroto giggle from that story, and gave the smallest smile at the memory. It had been kind of worth it, that one. Even Taiju had thought so, despite both of them ending up being severely reprimanded by not just Byakuya, but by actual governmental officials. Apparently military grade chemicals weren’t really supposed to be mixed around elementary school kids—heh—who knew? All he’d wanted to do was play Floor is Lava for real. That was when Byakuya had really started hounding in the whole ‘don’t use your powers of science for evil’.

“Aw man, that’s so bad!” Chrome raised his hands. “You had such fun!”

Er. Noooo. He’d been a fucking brat and made Byakuya’s life hell for a number of years. Both fearing death, and not fearing death did weird fucked up things to a kids mentality when they were a genius. He was so lucky Taiju had made sure he’d not jumped off any high buildings with a faulty homemade jetpack. Had he ever thanked Taiju for that? Probably not.

“A windmill generator in this environment is just as cool.” Senku offered. “And if we actually pull off the antibiotics, I should hope for a Nobel prize.” He joked. He heard Hiroto and Suika whispering beneath the workbench, which had become their favourite spot to do their conniving plans of mayhem—usually bothering Nala while she slept at his feet.

“I made a decision last night.” Kohaku slapped a hand down on his workbench.

Wow. So, she’d done more than just get a good right rest while flopped out on top of him. Good for her. Next time he was going to use her as a pillow and maybe he’d magically get a good night sleep.

“I will join this Seasons Grand Bout!” Kohaku made a fist. “I will face Magma, and I will—”

“Kick his nuts!” Suika yelled out.

Senku snapped up in shock. “Suika!”

He heard giggling laughter and watched as Hiroto and Suika tore out from under the workbench and ran across the settlement, vanishing around a hut. Senku held up his hands, shaking his head. Kohaku sent him a playful smirk, showing her glow had truly returned and it eased a little of the tension tightening his throat. “Goodness, what have you been teaching her.”

“I blame you.” Senku grumbled, nursing his head.

Kohaku lightly brushed his shoulder. He reached for her hand, letting her know it was fine—he was fine—she could manhandle him and he wouldn’t break on her.  

Kohaku folded herself around him, “Come on, you promised Hiroto ramen, and I wish to consume this dish also.”

“I feel very used.”

She smiled down at him. “But…are you bored?”

Senku laughed. Well, she did have a point.

00000

Kohaku held up the foxtail, her mouth pulling back in mild disgust. “You’re seriously telling me you can make a dish out of this…because…foxtail is so gross.”

“Yep.” Senku eased past her, handing a large bale down to Suika. “Foxtail millet is a hundred percent a grain, albeit an unrefined one. We’re lucky to be so close to such a large field, we’ll have to send some workers out there to make sure it’s well cultivated. It will be our first bit of agriculture.”

“Workers? What workers?” Kohaku playfully waved the foxtail about.

“Oh, you know, the hypothetical ones that will become non-hypothetical as soon as I win them over with my superior cooking skills.” Senku flashed her a smirk.

Kohaku narrowed her glare. “I did not claim you because you fed me good food!”

He scoffed at her. “Lies. I hear lies.”  

“Senku!” Kohaku stamped her foot. “Gah!”

Senku sat himself down beside Suika, completely ignoring Kohaku’s irritation. “We have to thrash the grain to get rid of the husk, see what Hiroto is doing.” He motioned over at his little brother who was smacking the bale he held against a rock, cackling as he did so. Senku shook his head. Everything was some sort of violent game to Hiroto at the moment. Weird little guy. But then—at Hiroto’s age—he’d been figuring out the best way to destroy model cars and trains by sneaking into the University laboratory, so, it wasn’t like he could judge.

“Is this right?” Suika asked as she started smacking the bale she held on her own rock.

“Perfect.” He praised, collecting the grain into a basket. “Oie, Chrome! We’re going to need water; can you fetch us some?”

“Ohhh come on…” Chrome flopped his arms around. “Can’t Kohaku do it.”

“She’s banned from heavy lifting for a few days. So no.” Senku raised a finger, waggling it at Kohaku as she pouted. “If I so much as see you lift something heavier than—”

“What, you?” she mocked.

He arched an eyebrow at her. Oh. Oh that was a good one. “You wanna keep testing me?” He taunted, rising to his feet.

Kohaku matched his height. “Yes…” Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip.

Chrome walked past them, “Fine, I’ll go get the water, just to get away from you two and your gooeyness.” He pointed back and forth between them as he walked backwards.

Hiroto rolled off his seat, dramatically gagging.

“Hiroto, that’s not appropriate behaviour, get up please.” Senku chided.

“I don’t have to do what you tell me.” Hiroto lay on the ground, flapping his foxtail bale around, losing them precious grain.

“Hiroto.” Senku stepped over him. “I am perfectly capable of making a time out corner.”

“You’re not Dad!”

Senku flinched. It must have been a visible reaction, as if he’d been hit, because Kohaku’s hand rested on his arm. It was going to happen eventually, and he had expected it sooner—but even though he had expected it—knew that it would come—anticipated the sharpness of the words—

It did nothing to soften the blow of how cutting they felt.

He wasn’t Bakyau. He never would be. It was impossible to even compare them.

Senku breathed in. Right. He could compartmentalise this and break the emotions down into boxes and shuffle them into the right shelves in his mind, he didn’t have to react negatively even if the little orphan boy inside him wanted too.

Senku crouched down in front of a sullen Hiroto. “No, I’m not Dad, and I am never going to be him. I cannot replace him, but Hiroto…” he settled his shaking hand on his little brother’s head. “I am responsible for you the same way Dad was responsible for both of us, and that comes with its own responsibilities from you as well.”

Hiroto rubbed at his eyes. “I know.”

Senku shuffled into a hug, Hiroto folding into his arms. They didn’t have an easy road ahead of them. Hiroto was the sort who would push boundaries, especially in this new world.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s make some ramen.”

Hiroto nodded against his shoulder. “Okay.”

00000

And…the kids lost interest quickly, which wasn’t surprising, they were only kids. So Senku had very quickly mocked them up several hopscotch patches in the dirt, with mathematical equations that they had to solve—both difficult for Hiroto, and far easier for Suika—and some bag throwing games consisting of basic writing in both English and Japanese. As he sat himself back down beside Kohaku, who was still working her way through their large foxtail bales, he gave a weary sigh.

“You’re very good with them, you know.” Kohaku offered. “But you don’t have to keep them entertained, they can just run around.”

Senku shook his head. “Hiroto needs some structure, or he’ll go utterly mad. Besides, learning is important at their age.” Senku rubbed at his temple, wincing at the headache that just wasn’t going away. The sun was too bright. He was tired, and he was still feeling overly sensitive to everything, even his clothes, and the braids he’d knotted his hair up in. Worse of all, he could feel every drip of sweat on him and it was just so appallingly distracting.

“I hate my brain…” he muttered.

“Are you also in your luteal phrase.”

He couldn’t help it, he keeled over sideways in laughter.

Kohaku stared at him in shock. “Senku? What…what is it? What did I say?” Her shock turned to frustration, and she puffed up her cheeks.

He waved at her as he tried to recover. It didn’t work. He was going to die, right here, from suffocation. Okay. Okay. He could do this. Control his breathing. Senku clutched at his aching midriff as he dragged himself upright. He grabbed her shoulder, leaning into her.

“One hundred percent, no. I am not.”

Kohaku sulked. “I am very confused.”

“Oh, I bet you are.”

“You’re being mean.”

“I am. I am fucking being an arse, and I am not sorry.”

She poked him, hard, right in the side. He slapped at her. “Oie, oie. Gentle.”

Senku scooped up more of the foxtail grains into the basket beside him and reached out to collect another bundle to thrash.

“How are the horses?” he asked, deciding to quickly change subject.

“They are doing well.” Kohaku beamed in pride. “Kinro and I were out early this morning working with them, off the instructions you wrote us.” She paused from scooping up her own collection of grains. “You are right, it will take some time.”

“I am always right.”

Kohaku kicked him lightly. Senku leant away with a chuckle.

“Kinro is most enthused…he has named his horse Chrysanthemum.”

Senku stuck out his tongue. “That’s a mouth full, but…also…very Kinro.” He looked over at her. “Decided on a name for yours yet?”

Kohaku nodded. “Since Kinro went for a flower, I also thought it appropriate, thus, I settled on Bluebell.”

He had to sort his way through his library of mentally catalogued books, flicking through pages and pages until an image and text appeared in his mind. “Campanula rotundifolia…” Senku murmured. “The common Scottish harebell. Fascinating choice. I like it.”

“I use that flower to make our blue dyes.” Chrome offered from where he was stirring the pot of boiling venison stock.

Senku glanced down at his blue clothes. Kohaku’s colour of choice—her knot-colour. It was such an eerily similar tradition to the making of Scottish Kilts. Who had passed on such a tradition? How had it been formulated into their culture—and why?

He shook his head, dismissing such question that he could not find answers for.

“Hey, Chrome, did Kinro—”

A step ahead of him, Chrome answered, “Yeah, he and Ginro came back with the trees. They’re…pretty big.” Chrome lifted the ladle of stock, giving it a sip, frowning, and added more salt. Originally, Senku had been leaning towards a duck noodle dish, as he really had perfected his duck cooking—but—this was going to be a dish that would win him a workforce, so Kohaku had hunted down a fresh deer and the wastes had gone straight to Nala, who had been ecstatic at the treat.

He wanted to make a good impression, thus, they had to pull out the nice fat. Fat tasted good, warm, and inviting, and hopefully, it’d cover some of the grittiness of the foxtail texture.

“I did ask for big trees.” Senku shrugged. “Nice that Kinro delivers.”

Kohaku slapped down her basket of foxtail. “Hah! I also deliver. How is this!”

Senku blinked. Well. She was in a good mood. “Sure. That’ll do.”

“Then what is the next step?”

“Beating the crap out of it to make a fine powder. Think you can handle that?” He mocked.

Kohaku bent over him. “I can handle you.”

“Oh, you are barely handling me.” He grinned. “I’m only on level one of how annoying I can really be.”

Kohaku leant in closer. “Is that so—”

Their heads were knocked together, rather firmly, hard enough that Senku was sure he’d end up with a bruise on his forehead. Kohaku snapped back in shock, staring at Chrome in abject horror that he’d even dared.

Chrome arched a daring eyebrow at her.

Senku bit his bottom lip, keeping in his rising amusement.

“Guys, please. Focus.” Chrome walked away from them with a mocking little bounce. “We’ve got science to do.”

Senku laughed. Wow. The day had finally arrived, when he got scolded for flirting.

This was a day for the memory vault.

0000000

It was just a test, to see if the recipe was good enough, but still, the dishes in front of them for their nightly meal looked delicious. Senku tapped his chopsticks on his hip. Question was, did it taste delicious? Sure. It looked like ramen, but had he managed to make foxtail millet taste editable.

Kohaku’s pitched up face was telling him that she had no faith what-so-ever in his incredible abilities, and he was in half the mind to just drag her back to their hut to prove himself. Gah. Senku dropped his head back. She had him completely fascinated, and worse, he was enjoying it.

“This is still yucky foxtail millet.” Kohaku pouted at him. “I don’t care what you’ve done to it.”

“Are you afraid to eat it?” Senku taunted.

Kohaku denied sharply. “What. No.”

“I made this delicious meal for you, I put hard work into this, and you’re complaining at me. I am devastated.” He rubbed at his eyes.

Kohaku rolled her eyes. “Stop that, you are utterly terrible at pretending to care.”

He gave her a mocking wink.

Across from him, Chrome scooped up a large mouthful. “It’s okay! I will make sure it’s safe for us to eat! Because one of a sorcerer’s most important qualities is not to be afraid of anything different and new!”

Wow—so brave. Such a sacrifice. Senku inwardly laughed, tipping to the side slightly. “Scientist.” He absently corrected.

Chrome didn’t hear him, because he’d already leapt up in excitement. “It’s amazing!”

Senku sapped his head up. Chrome was stuffing his face with enthusiastic vigour, barely getting his words out through mouthfuls. “This is so bad! Senku! Best food ever!”

“Yeah, pretty sure you said that about my duck soup.” Senku frowned at his own bowl in trepidation. It looked enjoyable, and the smell from the stock was divine enough to make his stomach knot up and grumble. Kohaku nudged him with an elbow, and he glanced over at her. She motioned across at Hiroto.

“Aw, shite…” Senku sighed.

Hiroto had his mouth wide open, ramen oozing back out into the bowl in a rather disgusting display. There was a look of utter nauseating ickiness on his little brother’s face.

“Not good, heh?” Senku asked.

Hiroto shook his head. “That’s not ramen. It tastes like medicine, from the hospital.” 

It couldn’t be that bad. The brat had to be overreacting, surely. Medicine? Seriously?

Senku scooped up a mouthful and immediately turned around, spitting it out.

Shite. Nope. Not ramen. Wow. That was a shock. He hadn’t expected it to taste that gritty, while also crumbly and not at all smooth. The textures were all wrong and invoked a gagging reflex when the bitter aftertaste hit.

Kohaku started patting his back. He doubted she even realized that she responded to him with immediate tactical responses, even after he’d mentioned it, it was that much of an engrained behaviour in her.  

“What is wrong with you guys, this is incredible.” Ginro looked back and forth between them. “It’s like food from the Ancestors!”

Technically, yeah—it was Ginro—that was kind of the point. Guess it worked then, if they thought it was godlike food.

Hiroto had started crying. Senku exhaled heavily, putting his bowl aside to shuffle closer to his little brother. Kohaku had paused her own eating, looking at him in concern. She was probably internally debating if she should step in to help. They were having that difficulty now, and it was going to be awkward until the relationship between them was more openly formalized—or was that just him putting his old-era mentality into it?

“It’s not ramen…” Hiroto looked up at him. “Not like Dad’s ramen!”

“Nothing will ever be like Dad’s ramen.” Senku shook his head. “Dad’s ramen was special, it was irreplaceable.”

Hiroto gave a terribly mature sounding sigh. Senku winced. That—that sounded like one of his sighs. With a fiercely stern look of resolve, Hiroto picked up his bowl. “It’s okay, Senku, I like your ramen too.”

A strange little bit of warmth twisted itself up in Senku’s chest.

He looked over at Kohaku. She gave him a reassuring smile.

Yeah.

She was right.

They’d be okay.

Senku slid himself down beside Hiroto, taking up his own bowl of foxtail ramen. Hiroto huddled up against him, as if they were in front of the television together, instead of a fire.

Maybe it wasn’t the same as home, but, it was a step closer—and that meant something.

000000

“So…these were a thing, back in your era?”

Senku looked up at Kohaku as she stood over him while he fixed a wheel on the food-cart. She had the sceptical look to her, not so much scepticism over trusting him, but more over why—why had something existed. He truly loved that about the villagers. It was such a fundamental question to everything.

Why?

Why would anyone do anything?

Why would humanity even go to the Moon?

Was there any reason to strive, to reach forward, to seek a better life—if it all ended in nothing?

Yes. Always, forever, yes.

And standing in front of him, with bright blue eyes, was proof of that mentality. Proof that humanity would never end in nothing.

“Yeah. Food carts were even still a thing in my era. There was a guy who parked himself outside the university my Dad worked at, he made the best Yakitori in Tokyo. He never did tell me his secret.”

Kohaku shook her head, and indication that she was giving up, most likely she wasn’t understanding his words.

“I fail to see how this…” she waved at the food cart. “Get’s us any closer to the antibiotics.”

“We need help, so, help is what we shall gain. Your people appreciate hard work and good food, those are easy things to exploit.”

“Don’t say exploit.” She pouted.

Senku held her cheeks in his hands, and she scowled. He kissed her.

“You’re awful,” she whispered, her arms tightening around him.

“I know.” Senku tipped his head, lazily pulling aside. “Let me put it another way, yeah. People have waged wars over salt and pepper. That’s how fundamental food is to civilization. We’re exploiting that.” Senku leant back on the little food cart, grinning maniacally at Kohaku.

She slapped her hands down on either side of him, pressing in close. “I said, don’t say exploit.”

His brow lifted. “E.x.p.l.o.i.t. Exploit.” Senku popped his lips around the word he spelt out. And he received exactly the reaction he wanted, which shouldn’t have made him so happy, but fuck—this was fun—

Why hadn’t Taiju ever told him how fun this whole relationship thing would be?

Heh.

Maybe he should have listened to Yuzuriha more.

Kohaku’s knee drove itself firmly between his legs, and he forced himself not to laugh, because laughing would have totally ruined how stunning she looked when he ruffled her up.

“Apologise.” She demanded.

He grasped her arms, gently stroking them. “I would love to continue this, but I would also prefer not to get caught with you pinning me down by the kids. That’d be rather awkward to explain to Hiroto.”

Kohaku released him. “No, no, he just thinks we’re gooey.”

“Well…okay…” Senku rubbed his nose. “Not the word I’d have used at his age, but fine…we’ll run with that for a bit longer.”

“What would you have used at his age?” Kohaku asked.

Senku arched an eyebrow. “At Hiroto’s age, I’d already devoured an entire library worth of information. The issue was not what words I would have used, it was more…my lack of understanding of the human application behind such words.” Senku lifted a hand, holding it up to the sun. “A book can describe, in intricate details, the feeling of sunlight, but until you have felt it yourself…it is just meaningless ink on a page. A book can describe the song of birds, the twinkling of water over stones, but until you have experienced such sounds by your own ears…it is just dull text.”

He looked back at her. “One must live, so knowledge can be obtained.”

She was blushing red hot. Senku laughed. “Dude, I am turning you on by just talking.”

Kohaku slapped a hand into his face. “Shut up.” She squeaked.

“Oh, I am never shutting up if that’s the reaction I get.”

She spun away, holding her hands to her face. Senku chuckled. He heard his name being called and he tipped about, watching as Suika and Hiroto ran across the settlement. He crouched as Suika leapt into his arms and he hoisted her into the air, giving her a twirl.

“Me! Me! Me! I want spaceship too!” Hiroto bounced.

Senku hefted Suika onto the roof of the food cart. He looked down at Hiroto. “You’re ten kilos heavier, bub.”

“You lifted Kohaku, and she’s a whole girl!” Hiroto flung his arms out at Kohaku.

Kohaku grinned. “You should try that again.”

“Not happening.” Senku dismissed.

“My ankle hurts.” Kohaku motioned to her foot.

Senku gave her a scoff. “Yes, sure it does.”

“I am in distress. Like a princess, in one of the bed-time stories.” She playfully tipped her hip to the side and stuck out her foot, letting her skirt split. Kohaku fluttered her eyelids.

Senku arched an eyebrow at her. Ah ah. Sure.

“Oh no. So sad. Walk on it.” He drawled as he planted his feet firmly, crouched and hoisted Hiroto into the air. His little brother squealed happily. Senku propped him up beside Suika.

Kohaku pouted at him. Senku gave her chin a little tap. “That won’t work on me.”

“I’m rather sure I could make it work…” she muttered.

“You’re welcome to keep trying.” He taunted.

“Hey…hey guys, some help!” Chrome called out.

Senku made a beeline for the guy, catching several of the assortment of carved bowls that were about to topple down and out of his arms. Chrome laughed over the top of them. “Nice save.”

Kohaku opened the cart for them and Senku crouched, stacking the bowls inside.

“Nice work Chrome, these look great.”

“Really?” Chrome worried. “They’re not good, not like anything Kaseki would have done.”

Senku sighed. Sheesh, Chrome really needed a confidence boost. What had he done to fail so badly at his artisan apprenticeship? When he applied himself, he was incredibly talented. His visual spatial skills were extraordinary.

“Better than what I’d have done.”

“That’s only because you’re lazy.” Chrome ribbed him playfully. “When you’re in the right mood, you go all out.” He motioned at Kohaku.

“What is the point of knowledge, if you cannot use it to make others flourish.” Senku shrugged. He hoisted himself up with a little bounce. “Right, team! Are we ready!”

“Yeah!” Suika and Hiroto whooped together.

He moved to the cart, pausing at Kohaku already positioned at the handles. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Pushing it.”

“You’re still banned from anything that’ll pull on your intercostal muscles.” He made a shooing motion.

Kohaku huffed up. “Yeah, well, you’re banned from pushing heavy wagons.”

They glowered at each other.

“Excuse me.” Kinro eased between them, passing Senku his spear, and taking the carts handles. He shoved it forward and Senku heard Hiroto’s happy squeal as the cart trundled down the path leading to the village.

Kohaku took his hand. “Come on.”

He let her drag him forward.

00000

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!”

Jasper rolled onto his side as Andesite landed on him.

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

“Andy, it’s too early in the morning for this.” Jasper groaned. While he said morning, something about the light shining in through the weave over the window told him it was more noonday sun. He’d had a late-night watch and Turquoise tended to let him sleep in after an all-nighter. Andesite was usually respectful, usually a good boy, taking his lessons from Ruri, learning the Hundred Tales—despite not being the Priest linage.  

Jasper eased himself up. If Andesite was here, bouncing all over him and off the walls, then there had to be a good reason he supposed.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” He rubbed at his eyes wearily, only to pause. Someone else was in the hut, and it wasn’t Turquoise .

“Priestess?” Jasper choked.

It really should not have thrown him as much it did, seeing Ruri in her soft white drape, loosely fashioned together by assortments of shells and wooden ornaments carved to form figures from The Hundred Tales. But the old guard hut on Temple Island wasn’t really a nice place for a beautiful Priestess.

Ruri gave a happy wave. “Good noon-sun Jasper, apologises for waking you, but Andy and I cannot find Turquoise anywhere, and we wish to take a little trip to the mainland.”

“The mainland…” he muttered. He was too groggy to process both an energetic child and a Priestess.

“Yes.” She shuffled awkwardly.

Jasper started dressing, pulling on his tunic, and leather armour, he stamped into his boots. Andesite handed him his belt. The boy was vibrating with excitement. Okay. Something was going on to get the two them this worked up.

“What is it? What has you both so excited?” Had the chief called for a Spring Festival? They hadn’t had one of those since Tsuki had passed away.

“Ramen!” Andesite burst out. “Uncle Senku has made Ramen! We need to go, now! Right now, Dad! Before everyone else eats it all! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” Andesite squealed, shaking one of the log-house poles.  

Jasper sighed. “Oh, Ruri…you know we can’t—”

“Please.” Ruri clasped her hands tightly against his arm. “Please, Jasper. Please.”

“It is against the rules.”

“Please.”

“Ruri.”

“There is no rule that says the Priestess isn’t allowed onto the mainland.” Ruri huffed. “I am not a prisoner, Jasper, and I refuse to live my last days stuck in a Temple! You will take me to see my sister and her claimed one, or I will simply go myself…with Andy.”

“Yeah, I will be guard.” Andy stuck out his chest. “Best guard ever!”

Jasper nursed his head. “Fine.”

Turquoise was right; he was too soft.

00000

The allure of this ‘ramen’ had summoned many across the Kennedy Bridge to the mainland, Jasper was rather surprised, but then again, the curiosity of the villagers had been growing. It wasn’t just the temptation of a fascinating meal; it was the temptation of seeing the Outsider that the chieftain’s daughter had claimed and would make as one of their own. Who was this man? Was he really a great sorcerer? Murmurings and whispers had been growing throughout the village, and he supposed the allure was now too great.

Ruri’s excitement shined such beauty from her as she held Andesite’s hand, and they happily trotted their way through the village. Perhaps it was his fault, perhaps he should have taken them another route to reach Kennedy Bridge, knowing that while Ruri wasn’t technically forbidden from leaving Temple Island, leaving the village itself was something the Chief would greatly disprove of.

Thus he should have expected Kokuyo’s voice to jerk the three of them to a halt. Ruri’s shoulders bunched up tight and she pressed in close to him. Jasper clasped her hand, trying to reassure her with his presence.

“Jasper, where are you taking my daughter?”

He was the High Guard, once, one of his position had not been questioned. Why—why was their such decay? Had it truly started at the famine, in the time of his grandparents—or had it been earlier?

Jasper closed his eyes, steeling himself to face Kokuyo. He turned, and winced at the sight of Magma and Mantle on either side of his old friend. Not good. He might have managed to talk Kokuyo into letting Ruri have some freedom to see her sister if Mantle had not been nearby.

Jasper frowned, why was Magma’s whole arm wrapped up like it had been brutally mangled in a fight? Had he been attacked by a wolf, or a boar while out hunting?

“We are going to see Kohaku.” Jasper motioned across to the mainland. “Andy and Kohaku’s claimed child have become good friends; it is also a good opportunity for Ruri to get fresh air and exercise.”

Please. Let that be enough. Please, Kokuyo, be kind.

“You think we shall believe such a ridiculous lie?” Mantle sneered.

Kokuyo’s expression pinched up in annoyance.

That was somewhat heartening to see. Kokuyo was perhaps getting a little exasperated that Mantle was taking to many liberties, speaking over him and for him. Heh. The little leech needed to watch himself. He could loose his position as easily as he had gained it.

“What I expect, Mantle, is for you the trust me to do my job as High Guard.” Jasper leaned forward. “I do not appreciate having my authority over matters of the Priestess questioned by anyone other than the Chief.”

“If you are taking the Priestess to see Kohaku, then that is a matter for us.” Mantle tried to puff himself up, to appear taller. “Her safety is foremost in all our minds.”

Sure it was, because all she was to Mantle and Magma was a means to power.

“And Kohaku’s claimed one is dangerous.” Mantle motioned up at Magma. “Why, just the other day he viciously attacked Magma, unprovoked!”

Jasper gave a scoff of disbelief. “I’m sorry, you’re expecting me to believe that Senku brutally attacked you and mangled your arm. You, our strongest warrior, was bested by Kohaku’s claimed one.”

Kokuyo looked suddenly very confused. “You say this as though it is impossible?”

Jasper shook his head. “You do not understand, Kokuyo, you have not seen the young man. If he were to truly best Magma, it would be an extraordinary feat.” He looked to Magma in disproval. “I would be deeply concerned about your choice for next chieftain.”

Inwardly, he couldn’t have been happier. Kokuyo had given Kohaku an ultimatum, find another man worthy of the position of chieftain, or face the consequences of her actions at the next Grand Bout. She might have just done the impossible, in the most speculator way possible.

Magma drew himself up. “This Outsider is a dangerous, hideous sorcerer! He has bewitched the chieftain’s daughter—”

Turquoise made herself known. She was panting slightly, proving she had been running, but even then, she retained her usual apathetic appearance. “Be careful with your next words, Magma. Emerald is willing to walk on the Ancestral Flame to testify as to your actions, and the actions of the Outsider. Are you willing to take such an oath before our Ancestors?”

Jasper schooled his surprise. Emerald had been tailing Magma then, just as he’d requested. Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to ask. Still, for Emerald to offer to Walk the Ancestral Flame to make a testament meant what he had seen had been serious. This warranted a conversation with Senku in person.

Mantle threw up a hand, stalling Magma’s next words. “This seems far more a conversation for the chief and his daughter, we shall take our leave.”

Jasper watched the two of them head away, back in the direction of the chieftain’s hut. Leaving, just as the conversation went sour. No doubt heading back to convince and scheme some more.

Kokuyo’s shoulders sagged. He looked back to Ruri. “Magma is a good man, he will become the next chief, why must you antagonise him so.”

Ruri sucked in a sharp breath. “Perhaps I shall request that Emerald come before us and take the Ancestral Flame Walk, so you can hear how much of a ‘good’ man Magma is.”

Turquoise gave a heavy sigh.

Yes, Jasper agreed, this wasn’t at all how he’d wanted his day to go. Turquoise gave him a little thump, just to show her frustration. He accepted it. Emerald was a good lad. If he had said he would take the Ancestral Flame Walk, then he had faith he could perform it. Some of the young lad’s did it for fun. He was rather sure Ginro was an expert, not that anyone would know.

Ruri raised her chin. “If Kohaku does not win the next Grand Bout, I will simply refuse to marry.”

“You cannot do that.” Turquoise panicked. “Ruri! No Holy One has ever refused!”

“Would you prefer I throw myself off a cliff, perhaps?” Ruri taunted sharply.

Turquoise paled, finally showing a visible sign of her stress.

“Ruri!” Kokuyo reached for her. “Do not speak of such things.”

“Then shall I advocate the title of Priestess?” she snapped. “What do you want?!” Blood leaked from her lips as she rasped out the last sentence. “Because I am running out of time! And none of you…none of you have asked me what I wish for!”

With that she hoisted up her skirt and ran, not in the direction of Kennedy Bridge, but back to Temple Island. Jasper deflated, nursing his head. That had gone terribly. Beside him Turquoise was trembling. Despite her stoic exterior, she cared deeply for Ruri. He settled a hand on her shoulder.

“She does not mean it, Turquoise. She is simply hurting deeply, she feels trapped.”

Turquoise took a sharp inhale. “I…I shall…I shall go and draw her up a bath, and stay with her. How…how about you and Andy see if you can bring her back some of this new food.”

“Fair idea.” Jasper lifted Andesite up onto his shoulders. “Thank you, Turquoise.”

Jasper shifted past Kokuyo. “Sir.”

Kokuyo’s large hand grasped for his arm, making him pause. The grip was trembling. Jasper looked back at the chief. His old friend’s gaze was downcast.

“Please, Jasper…understand…I want only what is best for my daughters, and our whole village.”

“I cannot possibly understand the burden upon your shoulders, Kokuyo.” Jasper offered. “You carry the weight of all our lives, but perhaps…perhaps you should consider the possibility that change can be a good thing, and this Outsider, he is a herald of change.”

Kokuyo frowned. “We have survived this long; we do not need to change.”

“Sometimes, change comes, whether we desire it or not…”

0000000

Senku marvelled at the villagers that crossed Kennedy Bridge. He’d known they existed, of course, but to actually see them, and finally really be amongst them was wonderful.

These were—

They were his fathers—

That thought blotted itself out, like an ink stain in his mind.

Instead, he shifted his attention to Kohaku. She was a blur of pretty blue, her dress like shimmering water. Her smile was radiant. The way she practically danced, the sound of her laughter and delight, it brought him the oddest sense of comfort.

She loved her people, that much was so obvious in everything about her.

And they loved her back.

Wow—

Her father must have been an arse if he had tried to break the bond she had with this village. She really should have been the next chief. Sure—she was a little impulsive—okay—okay—not a little, she was very impulsive, and explosive, but that could be mediated with good advice.

Senku chuckled. “I bet anything, she’s got her father’s personality, and that’s why they don’t get along right now.”

Hiroto and Suika were running around, passing out bowls of ramen, and there was a low hum of chatter in the air. Senku leant wearily on the food cart, giving a sigh. Yep. This had worked out.

He did so love it when something worked out.

Food was communal, and here it was, still bringing people together.

Ah. Humans. Being predictable.  

“You know what this would pair nicely with…”

Senku stiffened.

He’d become so accustomed to the foreign medley language of the villagers, that hearing pure Japanese was immediately jarring. His skin crawled and his hand went straight to the small knife hidden at his side.

“…an ice-cold bottle of cola.”

Chapter Text

Senku didn’t have to move. Kohaku, Kinro and Ginro noted his stiffening reaction. It was a little unnerving, knowing the three of them watched him that closely to be able to move at such a speed as to react to what amounted to a little twitch.

The intruder was pinned to the ground by Kohaku, her blade against his throat.

“You know, if I die, this this would be how I wish to go.” The man joked.

Senku bent over him. “Oie, eyes up here, loser.”

“No.” Kohaku hissed. “Keep them on me. He is not your concern!”

Senku folded his arms, lazily leaning back on the food cart. Heh. Overprotective Lioness.

“Who are you, who sent you? Was it Tsukasa?” Kohaku dug her blade in deeper, drawing a string of blood. “Speak! Now!”

“Goodness…such attention from such a cute little thing like you…”

Senku rolled his eyes. Right. So, this guy had about another minute to get to the point before he rammed a foot up his groin, more just to get Kohaku off him.

“…I believe you’ve mistaken me entirely for someone else. I have never encountered someone named Tsukasa. I’ve been wandering around, all alone…” Black eyes shifted towards him and Senku arched an eyebrow, at the next words, “since I broke free from the stone.”

“Fascinating…” Senku drawled out. “I thought you looked strangely familiar. You’re Asagiri Gen, right?”

Kohaku snapped her attention to him. “You know him?”

“Nah. Never met him in my life.” Senku shook his head. He lifted a hand, tapping his temple. Kohaku pursed her lips. She was beginning to gradually grasp the concept that he had things stored in his mind, thanks to their late-night discussions, but it was no doubt still difficult for her when he seemed to pull something right out of his arse. He respected that, respected it had to be hard on her, and knew it frustrated her that she felt left behind.

“You’re sitting on a shrink; a trashy pop-psychologist who used his quick-read abilities to become some loser-magician. Taiju got me a few of his books, during one of my long hospital stays, as a joke. Cause I hate the mind-sciences.”

“Oh! You’ve read my work have you. How wonderful.”

“Dude, you’re no better than a tele-evangelist.” Senku intoned mockingly. “I cannot stand your kind.”

“That’s a bit of a low blow.”

“If you don’t stop staring at my girl’s cleavage, I will kick your fucking balls, and that’ll be real low blow.” Senku dropped all pretences, his expression hardening as he took a step closer.

“What is cleavage?” Kohaku looked at him in surprise, that melded a momentary flicker of delight at his irate tone. Oh—shite—he’d dropped his mask in public.

“Later. Tonight.” He tapped her head. “You can get off him…” Please, for the love of Pythagoras, get off him.

“I should gut him.” Kohaku pressed in closer, hissing viciously. “It is obvious he is from Tsukasa.”

Senku pinched the bridge of his nose. That was the opposite of getting off him.

“No, no, I have never heard of anyone named Tsukasa.” Gen denied again. “Truthfully, I have been wandering these woods and then I smelt such a divine scent of nostalgia, it bought me here…please…I have had such a difficult time adapting…”

Senku’s bow lifted. Yeah. Kohaku wasn’t buying any of this guy’s shite. It was really fascinating just how perceptive she was. It was no wonder they’d immediately clicked the moment they’d met—she never did buy any of his bullcrap either.

Yes—obviously he was from Tsukasa’s camp—there was no doubt about that, but the question was why make himself known so blatantly? Nah. Something else was going on. Senku gave a little irritated tongue click. Kohaku glanced up at him, immediately responding to his annoyance. He raised a hand, making a small gesture at her, and she relented, easing up her blade against Gen’s throat.

“Alright. Sure, you’re a wandering shrink. No problem.” Senku shrugged. “However, there is no such thing as a free lunch. So, you and everyone else who ate the ramen…” he cracked a grin. “You’ve all got some work to do.”

Kohaku heaved a dramatic sigh and hoisted herself off Gen. “There you go again, looking like some evil overlord.”

“Ah, but is it not wonderful that I am your evil overlord?” He mocked back.

Kohaku paused from sheathing her blades. She twirled the dagger expertly around and Senku grinned as he found the tip of it tucked beneath his chin. Kohaku pressed up against him, her free hand coiling around the knot strung around his wrist.

“Yes. We are bound as one. Do not unravel that which is entwined.”

“It’s called an ionic bond.” Senku lifted his brow. “A bond between oppositely charged atoms attract each other and cancel their charges to produce neutral compounds.” He grabbed her hand that held the dagger. “Thus, I do not become an evil overlord, you cancelled my charge.”

Kohaku rolled her eyes. “You’re a moron.”