#senkhaku week 2022
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Little Lioness, Little Scientist
AO3 link • FF.net link
This story is set right as the crew is setting out for California. It takes some liberties with the boat design, but that’s hardly the most unbelievable thing about this situation.
Senku was having a bad day, no doubt about it, which was a bit unexpected.
It had, after all, been going well recently.
They’d woken up Ryusui. (Senku was still deciding how he felt about that.)
They’d built a boat. Awesome, the world was theirs!
They’d been to Treasure Island. Awesome, new allies and some platinum.
They’d gotten a Medusa. Awesome, new tech to learn from.
They’d healed Tsukasa. Awesome, strong friend restored.
And now they were sailing to California, currently in the middle of the ocean, and it was a bit boring, yeah, but they were traveling the world!
And then he’d brought out the Medusa to study it. It was weird and cool and he wanted to understand it, but he couldn’t risk taking it apart, so it was observational only.
With that in mind, he’d asked Kohaku to look at it with him—her vision was excellent, far away or up close, and she might see something he missed.
Kohaku had been holding it, angling it in the sunlight, as he started sketching a rough enlarged “map” of the device’s surface.
He heard a click and looked up. Kohaku had just been holding the device on her palm, and he knew she was smart enough not to randomly poke or prod at anything. What had made the noise?
She looked at the device with a frown, then her eyebrows rose. “Uh, Senku, it’s—”
And then there was a flash of light—not the green light he’d come to know from the device, but red light—and Kohaku vanished, the afterimage of her distressed face burned onto his retinas
He froze in shock.
Had she just…died? Been disintegrated?
The devices just got ten billion times scarier. What had triggered it? What would keep it from going off again and zapping every human on the ship or even the world to death?
And his friend had just died in front of him, because he asked for her help, and his hand was shaking as it hung in the air, outstretched to maybe snatch the device away or grab Kohaku, but now there was just her blue hide dress left in a pile on the ground.
How was he supposed to tell her father and sister…?
And then a little blonde head popped out of the fabric, nearly scaring the life out of him.
It was…Kohaku? A very young Kohaku? Big eyes, head proportionally large to a tiny body, tiny little button nose, and little hands clawing their way free of the dress, but those were Kohaku’s eyes.
She looked at him, blinking before she tilted her head. “I don’t know you,” she said, sounding a bit confused. Senku supposed, to a child raised in such a small village, a new adult was very strange, if not downright impossible. So he had a tiny Kohaku with a tiny Kohaku’s memory, presumably. (He was impressed at his reasoning in this bizarre situation.)
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you a criminal?” She looked ready to fight him if he said yes (and, knowing her natural strength, she would probably win, even as a little kid).
“No,” he said.
“Oh.” Her tiny hackles lowered, naive enough to believe a guy when he said he wasn’t a criminal. “Are you…from a different village?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She considered him, lips pursed. “Were you hiding in the forest or something?”
He chuckled to cover his anxiety with the whole situation. “I was a statue.”
Her eyes widened to an almost comical size. “You mean in the forest? Those statues are people? Real people?”
He nodded. And then immediately wished he hadn’t when big tears started to form in her big eyes.
“They’re all people? But there are so many! How do we fix them?”
Most of him was panicking about how he now had a young and crying Kohaku on his hands. A very small part thought it was adorable that, even when little, Kohaku wanted to help.
“With science,” he said (instead of screaming for help).
She sniffled and rubbed one eye with a tiny fist. “Who’s science?”
“Well, I’m a scien-tist, but that probably doesn’t help you at all. Uh, it’s a logical application of observed laws and practices—”
Kohaku had apparently perfected her most deadpan expression at a young age. “Are you a crazy person?” She sighed. “You are, aren’t you? Ah, man, you’re not cool at all.”
Tiny Kohaku had thought he was cool? And now didn’t? He was getting emotional whiplash from this conversation.
“Did you kidnap me?” she continued on, pushing herself to her feet and looking around. “Wow, that’s a lot of ocean. When are you gonna take me home?”
Senku heard pounding feet and then Chrome was bursting around a corner. “Weird light,” he gasped out, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “All good? Need revival fluid?”
“No.”
Chrome looked up and then paused when he saw the situation. “What the hell? Kohaku, why are you so small?”
She squinted at him. “You look like Chrome.”
“I better. I am Chrome.”
She squinted harder. “Why are you so old? Why are you here with science?”
“With…science?”
She pointed at Senku. “That’s Science. He’s crazy.”
Chrome spluttered and then busted up laughing.
Senku crossed his arms and scowled. “Hardy har har. Hilarious. We kind of have a situation here, Chrome.”
Chrome, meanwhile, did not seem to care, cackling away gleefully.
Senku muttered to himself about stupid people not focusing on the problem at hand, walking over to snatch the Medusa away from Kohaku, who had still been clinging to it.
“Hey, that’s mine!” she protested, grabbing at his arm.
“Nope, not even one millimeter of it.”
“Give it back!”
“Do you even know what it is?” he asked, holding it in the air away from her.
“No, but it’s mine.” She leapt up and grabbed his arm.
Of course, Senku had yet to develop any ability to build muscle mass and was thus about as weak as it got, and the force of her leap knocked him to the ground.
He glared at her, not that she cared. “Ow. Seriously? Why—?”
He heard a click.
He threw Kohaku away from him—
—a flash of red light—
—and a very small Senku was struggling to get out of whatever it was he was stuck in.
—
Chrome had had a very exciting past few years. There had been no change for so long—him on his own, trying to find a way to cure Ruri, his only contact with the village being when Kohaku stopped by or Kinro came to check on him—and then this guy with crazy hair and so much knowledge that it hurt to think about had showed up, cured Ruri, then catapulted the entire village into technological civilization.
Never a dull moment—and he was never really worried, because Senku always had a plan, always had an idea or a gadget or an obscure bit of know-how.
And now his friend, his anchor, the man with the plans, was a tiny little kid, staring back at him with huge eyes.
Little Senku looked around. “D-Dad?” he called.
“Science?” little Kohaku said, having pushed herself up from where Senku had tossed her. “What happened to you?”
Oh no. Oh no. Chrome was not equipped to handle two little kids. Especially not the little terrors that he knew Senku and Kohaku probably would be together.
“Um, h-hang on a second!” he cried, starting to run for the others. “I’ll be right back!”
Never a dull moment, even when he might have appreciated one.
—
Kohaku stared at the skinny boy sitting in a pile of clothes.
He had the same hair and eyes and skin color as the man that had kidnapped her, but now he was a kid? Could that happen?
Well, Science had been crazy anyways. Maybe he was a sorcerer, too.
This kid, though, just looked sad and scared.
“My name is Kohaku,” she said, distracting him from looking around wherever they were.
“Um, hi? I’m Senku.” He looked around again. “Where are we?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “Are you sure your name isn’t Science?”
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “No, it’s definitely Senku.”
Hm. He must have gotten body swapped with Science the Sorcerer. Kohaku decided she liked Senku and was going to be friends with him. She told him so, then went to pull him to his feet.
“Wow, you’re strong!” he said.
She smiled. She liked him even better now.
He looked around again, pulling the fabric of Science’s clothes up around him. “It looks like we’re on a ship at sea. But why?”
“We were kidnapped,” Kohaku told him.
He whipped his head to look at her, his red eyes wide. “K-kidnapped?!”
She nodded solemnly. “I’m not allowed on boats without my dad, and I don’t see him here, so I didn’t come here by myself. And I don’t remember how I got here.”
Senku bit his lip. “There’s always a reason for things. What’s the reason we’re here?” He rubbed his head. “I don’t think I’d run away from home, but maybe my dad lost me?” She saw him freeze and his eyes fill with tears suddenly. “D-did he not want me anymore? Did he send me away?”
Kohaku, knowing that Ruri and Chrome felt better when she hugged them, tried to give Senku a hug.
“H-hey, cut it out!” he said, pushing away her hands. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m giving you a hug,” she informed him. “You’re sad. Hugs help.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not trying to beat me up?”
“What? No, of course not.” He was scrawny. She could probably knock him over in one hit. She didn’t want to, though.
“Oh.” He stood there for a second, looking at the floor. “Um, you can hug—”
She wrapped him up in a hug as fast as she could, and he squeaked in a funny way when she did. She laughed and hugged him tighter. “There, see? It’ll be okay. Your dad will come find you, or mine will come and we’ll help you find him.”
“But what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m not a very good kid. I’m a lot of trouble. I heard my teacher say so.”
Kohaku frowned. This was a very serious problem. She didn’t want her new friend to be without a family. “Then you can come live with me. We have room. I have a big sister, Ruri, and she’s really nice, and my dad is big and scary, but he’s nice, too.”
“Scary and nice?”
“He looks scary and has a big voice, but he gives good hugs and makes sure we’re happy. He’s nice.”
Senku was quiet, then he nodded. “Okay.”
“Great! I’ve always wanted a brother!” She patted his back, then pulled away and thought about what he had said. “You have a teacher already? You must be real smart.” People in her village didn’t get to be apprentices until they were twelve unless they were really good at something.
He shrugged. “I’m good at remembering things. I like reading, too. Do you not have a teacher?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not smart.” What was reading?
He frowned. “That’s not true. Whoever said that was lying or a jerk.”
Their conversation stopped as several adults ran over to them from somewhere. Kohaku didn’t recognize any of them besides Chrome—they must be the kidnappers!
“Stay behind me!” she told Senku, getting into her fighting stance. “I’ll protect us!”
“No way, they’re bigger than us!” he said, tugging her backwards. “You’ll get hurt!”
One man with a weird line on his face and black and white hair stepped a little closer, holding his hands out to the side. “Now, now, little ones, it’s alright.”
“Why did you kidnap us?” she demanded, determined not to be distracted. “Take us home, now!”
“Of course, of course! It might take a little while—”
Kohaku cried her best battle cry and launched herself at the man.
“Kohaku, stop!” said someone as they picked her up.
She swung her fists and feet, trying to hit whoever was holding her. “No, no, no! I want my dad! Take me home!” Her eyes were burning as she squirmed and she couldn’t stop the sob that escaped her.
Then she was being hugged, and that was weird.
“It’s going to be alright, Kohaku, I promise. We’ll get you home safe to Kokuyo.”
This guy knew her dad? She pushed away to look up at his face and realized that she recognized it. “Wait, Kinro?”
He nodded.
“W-why are you so big? Why are you and Chrome so old?”
Chrome came up and put a hand on her back. “I know it seems weird, but you being little is what’s weird here. You were big, too, just like us, I promise.”
She sniffed. “Was I tall?”
Chrome rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you weren’t short.”
“Was I strong?”
Kinro nodded. “Yes. Stronger than me. A good fighter, too.”
She looked at him. He did look pretty strong, and she did want to be an awesome fighter, so that was good.
Satisfied, she turned to try to find her new friend, only to see him hiding behind some crates and peaking out. “Senku, come say hi! These two are nice, I promise.”
Warily, eyeing the man with white and black hair, he scooted his way over to them. Kohaku told Kinro to put her down, and when he did, she grabbed one of Senku’s hands. “This is my cousin Kinro and my friend Chrome,” she said, pointing to each as she said their names.
Senku waved with his free hand. “I’m Senku,” he said quietly.
“Senku’s going to be my brother,” she informed them, “so he’s your cousin now, too, Kinro.”
Kinro was as serious as she remembered, even if he was really tall now. He looked at her, then at Senku, then nodded. “Alright. Welcome to the family, Senku.” Chrome started freaking out and Kinro dragged him away, waving a hand towards the scary man. “That’s Gen. He couldn't hurt you if he tried.”
“Rude,” muttered the scary man.
“He’ll take care of you until I can come back, okay?”
Kohaku trusted Kinro. He always knew what the right thing to do was, and all the village adults said he was responsible. So, even though she still didn’t trust the scary man all the way, she’d accept his help if Kinro said it was safe. “Okay. Come back soon!”
But she would not be letting go of Senku.
“Keep holding my hand, okay?” she told him. “I don’t want to lose you.” He was very small and would probably get stuck behind a box or something.
He frowned and wiggled his hand a bit in hers, but he didn’t pull away. Kohaku nodded and turned to the scary man—Gen, Kinro had said.
—
Gen was having a very odd day. This was just weird, even more weird than waking up after being stone for 3000 years into a world devoid of people, and he was having a bit of a hard time processing the situation.
And the fact that Kinro had saddled him with daycare duty wasn’t helping at all. (At least he hadn’t been told to grab the Medusa—then they might have had three kids running around.)
Well, what did kids need? Food, clothes, a nice place to sleep? Yuzuriha could handle the clothes and Francois could make some food while he found a place for them to be out of the way. “Come on, you two,” he said in his best song-song voice. “Let’s get you some clothes that fit.”
—
Senku watched as a nice lady sewed some clothes for him. Sewed. Not bought or anything like that. She was making the clothes.
Very fast, too! “How are you so fast at that?” he asked.
“Practice,” she said with a smile. “Now, arms out, please!” He held them out and she slid what was essentially a sleeveless yukata on him, tying it with a belt made of the same material. “I’m sorry I don’t have enough fabric to make anything nicer for you, but at least this works for now!”
He ran his hands down the material—it felt…weird, but not bad. “It’s good. Thank you.”
Kohaku, who had not left his side for a single second, looked him up and down. “Looks good!” she declared. She patted her own outfit, exactly the same as his except for her yukata was tied with a rope. “Good for playing in!”
He supposed it was, so he nodded.
The nice lady started cleaning up her sewing station. “Ok, let’s get you to Francois! They probably have a snack for you by now.”
Kohaku pumped her little fists. “Alright! I love snacks!” She turned to Senku, her eyes glittering and one hand outstretched. “Let’s go!”
He took her hand, but stayed put when she tried to run out the door. When Kohaku turned to him with a pout, he stated the obvious: “You don’t know where to go. What was your plan? Just run around until you found food?”
She giggled. “Yeah! It always works at home! I guess we can ask for directions, though.”
Senku had never had a friend before. Was this normal? Kohaku was ready to rush into anything at any time, little fists ready to punch anything in her way, and she just decided she was going to be his friend and possibly sibling without any input from him. He didn’t mind, not really, but it was still weird.
They followed the nice lady down the hall.
“How old are you?” Kohaku asked him as they walked. “I’m seven.”
“I’m six and a half .”
“Awesome! You can be my little brother! Or we could just say you’re seven, too, and then we can be twins!”
Senku wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”
“Why not?”
Senku didn’t actually know, so he shrugged.
“Then we’re twins,” Kohaku said with a firm nod. “It’ll be fun to share a birthday with someone! We can have a party twice as big!”
That did sound fun.
They reached an area with some tables—all adult-sized. There was a very fancy-looking person setting out plates at a table, and they waved the group over. “Nice to meet you,” said the fancy person with a bow. “My name is Francois.”
“That’s a French name!” Senku said, excited. One of his dad’s professor friends was named Francois. “Are you from France?”
“Where’s France? Is that another village?” Kohaku asked.
“No, it’s a country. It’s really far away. They speak French there—like s'il vous plait and pardonne moi.”
“Your accent is quite good,” they said with a smile. “Here’s a bit more French for you: votre goûter est prêt—your snacks are ready for you.”
They pulled themselves up on the chairs to eat, and Kohaku seemed concerned that she couldn’t eat and hold his hand at the same time. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I won’t leave without you.”
She nodded and dug in. Senku ate much more slowly—he wasn’t hungry. He was worried, though. Had his dad really given him away? He should have tried harder to pay attention in class rather than read. Or maybe he should have done more chores, or not bothered the man at all. He remembered what his teacher said—such a brat, I can’t stand him. Had his dad felt that way, too? Eventually, he felt so sick to his stomach that he couldn’t take another bite.
Kohaku grabbed his hand. He looked up and saw her big blue eyes watching him, a worried frown on her face.
The man with black and white hair from before came back, smiling and saying something to Francois, who had been cleaning some of the tables. They nodded and walked back over to the table. “Gen has found a room for you to rest in for now,” they said.
Kohaku yawned and said, “I’m not even a bit sleepy.”
Francois just smiled, then looked at their plates. “Senku,” they said, “was the food not to your liking? I could make something else for you.”
The thought of that made him feel even worse—why would they go to the extra effort for a brat like him? “No, thank you. It tasted good.” It had tasted like cardboard to him, but that wasn’t Francois’ fault. “I just wasn’t hungry.”
He hoped his dad would come find him. He hoped his dad still wanted him.
“Do you have a phone?” he asked as he followed Gen to another part of the ship. “I know my dad’s phone number. Can I call him?”
Gen hesitated, then said, “I’m afraid all we have is a two-way radio. We won’t be able to reach your dad.”
“What’s a phone?” Kohaku asked.
Senku looked at her in surprise. He’d heard of some kids not having TV at home, but no phone? Where was she from? “It lets you talk to someone far away.”
“Oh, neat. Can I talk to my dad?”
Gen chuckled, but it sounded strained to Senku. “Maybe later, little Kohaku.”
Senku swallowed. So Kohaku could talk to her dad, but he couldn’t talk to his? Was the two-way radio an excuse so he wouldn’t ask about it again—because Ishigami Byakuya had decided he didn’t want to take care of No-Name Senku after all?
He held Kohaku’s hand a little tighter. He was not going to cry in front of this man. Would Kohaku care if he cried? She seemed really tough and strong. Maybe she thought kids who cried were babies.
Gen opened a door and waved them into a small room. There were two beds and a small set of shelves—bare-bones as far as rooms went.
“I’m sure you’d like to rest for a bit, so here’s a nice, quiet place,” the man said. “Kinro will come check on you when he can, okay?” And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.
Kohaku went up to one of the beds. “I’ve never seen a bed like this,” she said. “We sleep on futons at home, or out under the stars.”
Oh, maybe she lived in the country? He’d never lived in the country before. “It’s just different. Still a place to sleep. You can’t store it away, though. It has to stay out all the time.”
She nodded, then climbed onto one of the beds and reached for him. “Come on,” she said when he hesitated. “It’s big enough for two of us.”
He’d never slept by anyone before. “Do siblings sleep in the same bed?” he asked.
“Mm, sometimes. I sleep with my sister when I’m scared or cold. She’s sick, though, so I try to let her have her own bed.”
He clambered up onto the mattress. “Sick? With what?”
She sniffed and grabbed his hand. “I don’t know, but I think it’s the same thing that killed my mom.”
Senku saw tears start to fall down her face and frowned. What had she said earlier? Hugs helped? He’d never hugged another kid before, but it shouldn’t be all that hard, right? So he reached out the arm that she wasn’t holding onto and wrapped it around her.
She hugged him back. “I want my dad,” she said quietly.
Senku sniffed. “Me too.” Hot tears started to escape his eyes and he rubbed his face against Kohaku’s yukata. Could he call Byakuya his dad anymore? He was the only dad Senku remembered, even if he wasn’t his bio-dad.
He remembered when he first told someone in his class that he was adopted. It hadn’t been weird before that, but after that, kids would whisper about him. Sometimes they told him stories of kids that got abandoned after they were adopted. They said he was nobody, that he didn’t have a real family or a real name.
Senku hadn’t told Byakuya, instead quietly crying himself to sleep. What if they were right? What if kids who complained too much were kicked out?
And then he’d overheard his teacher in the hall, talking about him to another teacher:
“That Ishigami kid? Yeah, he’s smart, but he’s such a brat. Just does whatever he wants, a real attitude on him. I can’t stand it. He’s nothing but trouble.”
That had been yesterday. Today was Saturday—Byakuya had said they were going on a trip for the weekend. Senku had been excited. He’d thought they were going to the planetarium. Was this the trip? Had his dad put him on a random boat and ditched him, telling the crew not to let Senku call him?
He felt his shoulders shake as he tried to keep his tears quiet. Kohaku just hugged him harder.
“Why didn’t he want me?” he whispered. “What did I do wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said, rubbing his back. “I hope he didn’t leave you, even if you’d make an awesome brother.”
“You’d make a good sister,” he said. “It’d be fun to share a birthday with you.”
She giggled. “Maybe. Ruri says I can be a pain, though.”
He smiled. “Then we’ll talk about how annoying you are, and then I can come play with you.” It’d be fun to live in the country with two sisters. It didn’t sound like they went to school, either, so he wouldn’t have to deal with mean teachers and classmates.
She giggled again, then flopped over onto the pillow. “I’m gonna rest my eyes, okay?��� she said with a yawn.
Senku looked at the other bed and decided this one was fine. “Me, too. Wake me up if you’re up before me.”
“Mm, ‘kay. Same for you.”
“Okay.”
—
Kinro was kind of freaking out. He’d said to Senku once that what he didn’t understand startled him, and it was just as true now as it was then—he’d just gotten used to being constantly in a state of mild panic.
Normally, he’d try to avoid the thing that was weird as much as he could if it wasn’t a direct threat.
But the “thing” in question was two young versions of two of his closest friends, and he wasn’t going to avoid them. (Heavens knew almost no one else on this boat was capable of taking care of children. If he avoided them, they’d end up in some weird experiment or permanently traumatized by something.)
So avoidance was out of the question.
If he couldn’t avoid a thing, he would then try to fight it.
But how did one fight spontaneous childhood? You couldn’t, that was just the facts.
He didn’t know a thing about science, and even less about whatever the Medusa was, so he had designated himself the kids’ caretaker for the time being, telling the rest of the crew so before heading over to the room Gen said he’d put their two smallest friends in.
He knocked quietly, then opened the door a bit when he didn’t get a response. The two kids were snuggled up together on one of the beds. Good—he’d move to the other bed and this could be their room.
He went to collect his things, mentally running through a list of ways he could entertain them while on the high seas.
—
Kohaku had been on the ship for three days now. She spent every day with Senku and Kinro, exploring and playing. Sometimes Gen would do some magic tricks for them, or Nikki and Yuzuriha would braid her hair and tell stories (Senku didn’t want his hair braided, but he liked the stories).
And Senku was teaching her reading. And math.
He was a good teacher, she thought. He showed her the kana and had her practice writing them. He gave her math problems to solve, like adding up planks of wood, or subtracting the number of “bread” from storage.
“See? You’re plenty smart,” Senku told her. “Don’t let people tell you you’re not. You can learn anything if you try hard enough.”
“You know a lot.”
“No, not really. There’s still so much to learn!”
Kohaku giggled. “You look so excited when you say that!”
He smiled at her. “I am! The world is awesome, and it’s full of awesome things! I want to learn about them all!” He looked away for a moment and his smile dimmed. “I…wanted to be a scientist, like my dad. And then an astronaut, maybe even go to the moon. Or Mars. No one’s been there yet, so that’s pretty exciting, right?”
Kohaku considered the fact that he was talking about going to the moon and decided she must’ve misheard something. Maybe there was a country called Moon. “Why can’t you?”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”
Which was a big fat lie, but talking about anything to do with his dad made Senku upset. If his dad really had abandoned him, she was going to hunt the man down and kick him all the way to the country of Moon and back.
—
Tsukasa did not feel especially comfortable around children. They were small and breakable. He was big and strong. Those conditions of being did not mix well.
But little Kohaku and Senku had attached themselves to him for the day, tailing his every step and asking about everything he did.
They were objectively adorable, trotting around the ship all day, following whoever they wanted. He just wasn’t sure why they’d picked him.
He didn’t know how to act, either. Tsukasa had always imagined that Senku was as smug and rude as a kid as he was as an adult, so Tsukasa had prepared for that, but little Senku held Kohaku’s hand quietly and was very polite. Tsukasa didn’t have the slightest idea of how to connect with him.
Kohaku was exactly like he’d thought she’d be—loud and ready to fight anybody who tried to get in her way. Maybe he could give her some fighting tips?
Which is how he ended up on the deck, modeling a stance for the little warrior. She took it very seriously, barely getting distracted except to check on Senku (he was sitting in the shade and watching them).
Tsukasa was actually having a good time with little Kohaku, and so he didn’t realize Senku had moved until he heard a crash and the sound of an adult swearing. The little boy was picking himself up and rubbing his head with a wince, so Tsukasa hurried over.
“Watch where you’re going, brat!” snapped Yo, scowling as he got back to his feet.
Senku flinched back a little and Tsukasa was sure to place himself between the former police officer and the young scientist as he checked on Senku, leveling a glare at the older man over his shoulder. Yo paled and scrambled back a little before grabbing whatever it was he was carrying.
“W-well, it’s not my fault that pipsqueak—”
Kohaku ran up to Yo and kicked him in the shin. It was a pretty good kick—Yo yelped in pain and grabbed his leg, hopping around a bit.
“Nice form, Kohaku,” Tsukasa said. She turned, surprised, then beamed at him before scurrying over to Senku’s side.
Senku giggled a bit as he rubbed his eye and Tsukasa hummed. “I’m worried about your head,” he said. Were kids prone to concussions, especially if adults ran them over at full force? “Let’s go to first aid.” He hesitated, then asked, “Can I carry you?” Those little legs didn’t move very quickly.
“Me too, me too!” said Kohaku, grabbing his arm and bouncing up and down. “Carry both of us!”
Senku, who had looked skeptical at first, saw Kohaku’s excitement and then nodded.
Interesting.
He scooped up the both of them, one on each arm, and made his way to where they treated injuries. Kohaku squealed about how high up they were, scrambling all over his head and shoulders like he was a tree. Senku just sat very still and watched her antics with a smile on his face.
—
It had been five days. Senku had been stuck on this boat for five days. It felt like forever.
Every day, he played with Kohaku. He taught her how to read (she was learning very quickly) and how to do math (just easy stuff, though). She was light years ahead of the other kids in his class, so she really was smart and he was a bit upset with whoever had told her she wasn’t.
He hadn’t realized friends could be like Kohaku. She listened to him and he listened to her and he taught her and she taught him (about fishing and how little kids helped in her village, about how to punch something without hurting your hand and how to climb tall things). She was fun and nice and she insisted on hugging him throughout the day and snuggling with him at night (it did make him feel better, but he wasn’t going to say that). She had also kicked the guy with spiky hair who ran over him yesterday and that had been pretty funny.
Kinro was there, too. He was nice, if a bit quiet, but Senku was fine with quiet. In fact, right now, when Kohaku was off with Yuzuriha and Nikki, Senku was just sitting next to the man. He was whittling something and Senku watched with wide eyes as the little shavings fell away.
“What are you making?” he asked after a while. He couldn’t tell just from looking at it, and Kinro had always answered his questions nicely, so it wasn’t scary to ask.
“A whale,” Kinro said, holding it out for Senku to see better. “Remember the ones we saw the other day? I thought they were pretty cool, so I’m carving one.”
“Cool,” Senku said. “That’s cool that you can do that.”
Kinro started working again. After a while, he said, “I can teach you, if you want to learn.”
Senku bit his lip. “Are you sure? You don’t have to. I’m good to just watch.”
Kinro put down his project and pulled up the bag that had been sitting next to him. He dug around in it for a bit before pulling out a small piece of wood and a little knife. He handed those to Senku.
“Alright, first is knife safety,” Kinro said seriously.
And Senku slowly, slowly started working on his new project. He worked on it all day, fascinated by how it was sort of coming together.
When he finished, he had a piece of wood that looked a bit like a rocket ship.
“It’s a rocket,” he told Kohaku at the end of the day while they were sitting in bed. Kinro had already tucked them in and was spending the rest of his evening with the other adults. “People sit in this part up here, and the engines to push it up into space are down here.”
Kohaku turned the rocket in her hands. “Space…that’s above the sky, right?”
“Yup.”
“And…you can really get to the moon with one of these?”
“Yup.”
She smiled. “That’s awesome. I want to go to the moon! What’s it like? Do you know?”
“It’s like a big desert. It’s full of rocks and dirt and sand. There’s no air, so plants don’t grow there and you have to wear a spacesuit the whole time. The gravity is really low, so you kinda float a bit and you can jump really high and fall without hurting yourself.”
“Wow! I super want to go to the moon! I’ll jump the highest anyone has jumped in the history of ever!” Her eyes sparkled and her grin was so big that Senku couldn’t help but grin back. Then she grabbed his hand. “Let’s do it, okay? Let’s go to the moon! We’ll go together!”
He nodded. If he ever got to go to the moon, it would only be more awesome if he got to go with his friend. “Ten billion percent.”
She laughed and handed him back his rocket, which he carefully put on the dresser. Then they fell asleep, Kohaku wrapping him in a hug before she drifted off.
—
Senku knew something was up. He’d been paying close attention to everything the past week. This ship was almost as low-tech as it got, and everything looked kind of…weird. Different from how he expected it to look.
No one had cell phones. No one had any personal electronics at all. There were light bulbs, but, again, weird ones.
He remembered what Chrome had said that very first afternoon: “I know it seems weird, but you being little is what’s weird here. You were big, too, just like us, I promise.” He hadn’t understood—it seemed impossible—but he was starting to think it was, indeed, possible.
Both he and Kohaku had been wearing—or been stuck in—clothes that were too big for them. Neither of them knew where they were or how they got there.
He’d also been listening closely. “Petrification” was a word thrown around a lot. “Stone world” was common as well. “Why-man” was spoken of in worried whispers.
“Kohaku,” Senku said, sitting down with her that night, “I think these guys are all our friends. Almost everyone has been really nice, right? I think we were on a mission to do something important, something to do with the whole world. But…it sounds like something impossible happened. They keep talking about people turning to stone.”
“Oh, like the statues in the forest?”
Senku stared at her. “What?”
“The forest is full of statues of people. Actually…” She bit her lip. “There was a guy—Science—that was talking to me when you showed up. I thought maybe he’d switched places with you somehow. He said he’d been a statue. I thought he was crazy, but…” She looked at him. “You keep talking about things I don’t have any idea what they are. Cars, phones, TV, school—I don’t know those words. No one knows what reading is in my village. And if Chrome said I turned little, then maybe you turned little, too, which means you were Science, which means you were a statue.”
Senku was trying to process this. “So you’re, like, from the future? A future where almost everybody turned into statues and technology was lost?”
They sat in silence for a while, just thinking. Senku came to the conclusion that he had no way to find out if his dad had actually abandoned him or not, now that he didn’t even know where his dad was, but now that he was a bit calmer, now that he wasn’t around mean teachers and mean classmates, he decided that they were wrong. His dad loved him. A lot. (It was kind of embarrassing.) It didn’t matter if he was adopted. It didn’t matter if he was a brat. His dad wouldn’t have thrown him away, no matter what—he was ten billion percent sure of that.
“So what do we do?” Kohaku asked.
Senku sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start.”
Kohaku hummed, then grinned. “Well, if we know the people here are our friends, that means we can prank them and not get in trouble, right?”
Senku laughed. “Can we?”
“Totally! And—and you’re, like, super smart, so you can probably think of super-fun ways to prank them, right?”
—
It was the last peaceful night on the ship.
—
(Ending 1: they don’t turn back)
Chrome was at the end of his rope. He didn’t know what to do. He had no idea how to fix this. He hadn’t slept in days, wracking his brain and hypothesizing, but it was science that he just didn’t understand, not even a little bit. At this point, he was tempted to just smash the Medusa to pieces, he was so frustrated.
And he couldn’t ask Senku for ideas, because Senku was tiny and cute and just starting his journey of science—as weird as it was to imagine Senku not knowing all the things, he’d had to learn them first, and he just hadn’t yet.
Exhausted, he made his way to the cabins. Maybe sleep would help. Except he only remembered that Gen had told him that they were using his cabin for the kids when he opened the door.
He sighed and leaned against the door frame, watching the two kids sleep. Maybe this was just…life, now. Their friends had been made young by means they didn’t understand. The only way Chrome could think to get them back to normal was time, as in, doing it the long way.
He was starting to wish he’d taken up Senku on learning the entirety of human scientific discoveries. Was that information just…gone, now?
Chrome felt hot tears run down his cheeks. He missed his friends. He wanted them back. This would be so much harder without their lead scientist and top warrior. This would be so much harder without Senku and Kohaku, their determination and drive and compassion.
He gently closed the door and wandered back to the deck, staring up at the stars. He remembered the mourning traditions of his village—the words they spoke to the stars when their friends and family were beyond their reach.
“I won’t forget you,” he said in a tremulous voice. “What you valued, I will value. What you loved, I will love. I will tell your stories.” He sobbed and fell to his knees. “I won’t forget, I promise,” he told the stars.
—
The voyage to the Americas was cancelled. It had been a long few days of debate, but the decision was made—for the time being, they were heading back to Ishigami Village. They’d been depending on Senku’s knowledge for building a rocket, and if they didn’t have that, there wasn’t much point in going on their big planet-wide trip. So they turned the ship around with heavy hearts.
And Senku and Kohaku grew up again.
Suffice to say, a lot of things that one might have expected to happen didn’t happen, or happened very out of order with what one might already know. People were never met, some mysteries never solved, and some problems escalated while others disappeared. Their world was much smaller, for a while.
But, in the manner of stories, I can tell you that they all lived happily, surrounded by their friends and moving ever forwards towards a brighter future, learning and exploring and growing.
—
(Ending 2: they turn back)
In the end, they had no idea what turned Senku and Kohaku back to normal. Two weeks after they were deaged, it just…happened.
They were running around the deck playing tag, weaving in and out of the boxes and people. Kohaku changed back first, tumbling to the ground with a startled shout, her child-sized clothes in no way decent for her young adult self. Taiju (protector of dignity) made all the non-child guys go under the deck while Yuzuriha helped Kohaku.
Senku, meanwhile, was a bit upset.
“K-Kohaku?”
She turned to look at him, a blanket now around her shoulders.
Those were his friend’s eyes… “Is that you? Do you…remember me?”
She blinked rapidly, then giggled. “Yeah, I guess so. Wow, Senku, you’re a real cutie, aren’t you?”
Senku blushed. “Why would you say that?!”
And then she was picking him up and hugging him, which was familiar but a bit weird now that she was so much bigger. “Well, you’re going to turn back to your older self soon, right? So I gotta cuddle little you while I can.”
Senku, at this point in their friendship, accepted that he didn’t understand Kohaku’s logic no matter what age she was and patted her back.
Yuzuriha had him take off his yukata and put another blanket around his shoulders—just in time, too, because he was suddenly back to the age he was supposed to be, disoriented as hell.
“Hey,” Kohaku said.
He looked at her. She grinned.
“We’re tall enough to rig that bucket over Yo’s door now.”
Senku grinned back.
And they just…continued. What could be done? Other than locking away the Medusa really well, with lots of space around it—it was currently suspended high in the air behind the boat with a complicated system of wires.
The only real differences were that Senku had taken up whittling in his limited free time and Kohaku could read and write some simple kana now. And, of course, their awesome collaborative pranks, now featuring complicated chemistry or feats of strength.
And Kohaku hugged Senku more often, which he didn’t mind, and Senku would hold Kohaku’s hand sometimes, which she didn’t mind.
And while they were on the moon, after negotiating with “Why-man,” after the Earth was finally safe, Kohaku jumped as high as she could, and Senku laughed and laughed and wrote the distance in the moon-dust so future generations would know what record they had to beat.
@senhaku-week
#dr stone manga spoilers#senhaku#senkoha#senhaku week#senkhaku week 2022#with *two* alternate endings!
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Lit by Moon and Stars
AO3 link • FF.net link
“What’s the first thing you’ll do when we get back?” Kohaku asked.
Senku leaned back on his hands, staring up at the moon. “First thing, huh?” He was quiet for a while. “Probably sleep for like a week.”
She snorted. “Yeah?”
“We’ve been speedrunning this rocket, even if it did take literal years. It’s been kind of stressful. So, yeah, sleep.”
“I’ll make sure no one wakes you up, sleeping beauty.”
“My own personal sleep bodyguard? Nice.” They’re quiet for a while, and Kohaku wondered if anyone had ever counted all the stars. Senku would have, if it was possible. “How about you? What will Kohaku’s first actions be after returning to Earth?”
She hummed and pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knees. “Let’s see. Unlike you, I actually do sleep.” She laughed when Senku lightly shoved her shoulder. “So no extra-long nap needed.” She tried to think of something, anything. “Huh. I don’t know. I guess…”
And then Senku’s hand was brushing her cheek—wiping something away. Then she registered the tears, hot trails running down her face.
“Come on, lioness, don’t get all weepy on me,” Senku said, not as mocking as she might have expected.
“I’m not crying,” she said, rubbing the tears away. “I’m not.” And then a sob broke free of her chest and she tried to curl into the tiniest ball she could, mortified that Senku was seeing this moment of weakness.
Senku, meanwhile, was wondering what on earth to do. Kohaku was strong and fierce—she didn’t need coddling.
But she was human, just as he was, and all humans needed comfort sometimes. Especially if they were about to go on perilous missions that they might never return from, possibly never seeing friends or family again, with the added risk that they might somehow doom the rest of the earth in the process.
It was…a lot.
So he scooted closer to Kohaku and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her to his side.
She was confused for maybe half a second before shoving her face against his shoulder and proceeding to get his lab coat all gross with tears. And, just because her head was at the perfect height, he hid his face against her hair (soft, probably from conditioner, smelling like flowers from Treasure Island).
He counted the seconds until Kohaku stopped crying (257). He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t, instead reaching up to smooth her thumb over one of the lapels of his lab coat.
“I think,” she said eventually, “when I get back, I’ll ask someone on a date.”
“Oh?” Senku hadn’t known she was romantically interested in anyone. “Someone in particular?”
She chuckled. “Yeah. They’ll probably say no, but I’ll ask anyways.”
Senku honestly couldn’t imagine who would say “no” to a date with Kohaku—she was awesome, and a little bit scary. “Well, good luck. Let me know if I can help.”
“After you sleep for a week, of course.”
“Naturally.”
She laughed and straightened up, smiling at him with moonlight shining in her eyes. “Thanks, Senku. I can always count on you.”
—
And then they were in space. And then on the moon. And then coming back from the moon.
Stanley had asked to be petrified for the return trip—he said it was more relaxing than sleeping. Ryusui was still petrified from earlier, and Senku didn’t see a need to wake him up just yet. Once they got closer to Earth he would, just in case there were any weird piloting problems.
So it was just him and Kohaku, floating around in the tiny living space.
Kohaku was playing with some water, giggling like a kid as she poked and pushed the little globules around.
He grinned and pushed himself over to eat (drink? consume? inhale? He was unsure of the verbiage of zero-gravity beverages) one of them, and Kohaku pouted at him.
“Hey, get your own bubbles. These ones are mine.”
“I don’t see your name on them,” he taunted, and then tried to eat another one.
Kohaku laughed and shoved him away, sending him spiraling. “What are you, ten? Leave my poor bubbles alone!”
The sheer sense of relief was obvious to both of them. The threat of Why-man was gone—no more random globe-wide petrification events. They could—maybe, just for a bit—relax.
And Senku could maybe stop ignoring the fact that he wanted to ask Kohaku out. He’d have to wait until they landed, though. He remembered overhearing Taiju and Yuzuriha so long ago—Taiju wanted to make sure Yuzuriha didn’t feel pressured to accept him in any way, and Kohaku might feel trapped with him on the ship if he started bringing up romance, which could get weird. And he remembered how Luna had sort of declared herself his girlfriend as he was literally dying, where his answer was kind of implied to be payment for her help or something. Situations were important for these things.
“Hey, Senku,” said Kohaku from where she was looking out at the planet. “You know how I said I wanted to ask someone out on a date when we got back to Earth?”
Ah shit. That’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t ask her out. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Well, I was thinking…wait, come over here.” She grabbed his hands and dragged him to the wide viewport, and he didn’t think he’d ever see something more beautiful than his best friend backlit by billions of stars.
Kohaku was thinking much along the same lines. She was a bit nervous, but…well, she’d never been one to hold back! And to her, this was a risk worth taking.
“Senku,” she said, hoping he would be kind in his rejection, “I was thinking that it might be better to ask that person out while we were alone like this.” He was smart—his eyes widened as he connected the dots. Before he could say no, though, she wanted him to understand: “You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin that for anything. I just…can’t see myself spending my life with anyone but you, as your friend or something else, and even though I’ve probably freaked you out, I…I wanted to see if you’d like to go on a date with me.”
Senku squeezed her hands—she hadn’t realized she was still holding them from pulling him to the viewport. “Just a date?” he said, eyebrow raised and a smile she’d rarely seen before on his face. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, but if you’d rather just go on a date, we can do that instead.”
She couldn’t help her happy laugh, pulling Senku’s hands up to her lips to plant a small kiss on each of them. “No, be my boyfriend instead. I like that much better.”
He looked…happy. Usually he only looked this happy when some awesome breakthrough happened with a really hard project, but now he was looking at her like that, and if she hadn’t already been floating, she would have said she felt like she was flying. She tugged him a bit closer, reaching up to touch his cheek, wishing she could stay like this forever.
“Can…can I kiss you?” she asked, honestly unsure of the answer.
And then Senku laughed and pressed his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “After all, how many people can say they’ve had their first kiss in space?”
“After this? Two,” she replied, before pressing her lips to his (she just knew he would keep finding things to talk about if she didn’t, and she really did want to get around to kissing him).
And so, lit by moonlight, starlight, and even reflected Earthlight, the only living beings for miles and miles, Kohaku and Senku started their next great adventure.
@senhaku-week
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How Suika Found a Family
AO3 link • FF.net link
This is set in the same time period as the original Spy x Family—that is to say, the fictional and ambiguous 60s-70s. Also, as you’ll read, the plot is definitely not the same. But we do have pretend(-to-found) family, and that’s really what it’s all about.
Senku was regretting a few things as he ran through the facility, his precious cargo clutched in his arms.
To start with, he regretted going left instead of right at the last turn, because he was now being chased by a bunch of meatheads much faster than he was. He activated and tossed one of his smoke canisters behind him and slipped into a side corridor while the goons’ visibility was decreased. They ran right past him, and he quickly made his way back to the turn he should have taken.
Next, he was regretting not memorizing this portion of the map as closely as the part he thought he’d be working in. Not the company’s provided map, of course, but the actually correct one that Gen had sourced and sold to him for probably a whole lot more than it was worth. He still had the basics memorized, though, and quickly counted doors to the unmarked exit to the garage.
Finally, he regretted not bringing any kind of first aid kit. He usually did, but he hadn’t thought there would be anyone in need of rescue at the research facility.
He really should’ve known better.
He checked on the little girl clutching the front of his lab coat, promising himself he’d treat her as soon as he was able—but first, they needed to get out of there.
The open garage had a whole line of cars lined up and ready to go. Perfect. He’d have to work fast, but he could do it. In two of the cars, he attached the auto-drive modules he’d been working on recently. Working so fast meant their connection wasn’t ideal, so they wouldn’t last long, but it would be enough to distract and confuse any pursuers. He hopped into a third car, setting the girl on the floor in front of the passenger seat.
“Hang in there,” he said, fingers deftly hotwiring the car for him to drive. “We’ll be out of here soon.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lift her head a little bit before curling back into a ball. His heart ached at how quiet and accepting she was about all of this. Who knew how long she had been there. Had she ever even had the chance to be a normal kid?
He wouldn’t stand for it. She would live a normal, happy life and he was going to guarantee it. Enough kids’ lives had been ruined by this war.
The door back to the facility smashed open just as the car sparked to life. He hit the buttons on the device that would launch the other cars into motion as he shifted his car into gear and slammed the gas pedal.
He had to reach where his getaway bike was stashed, then get to the boat that would be waiting, then to the helicopter. They’d planned for this mission to go south.
At least he’d been able to grab the files he needed, too.
Actually…
He grabbed the tiny radio he kept hidden in a groove in the leather of his belt.
“06,” he said. Mission complete. “09.” Civilian rescued. “20.” Sufficient evidence to arrest. “19.” On route to evacuate.
He waited for the four ‘beeps’ that meant ‘four messages received,’ then tucked the radio out of sight again.
This wasn’t his most elegant success, but it was still a success. So far, at least. He just had to keep his wits about him until they reached a safe house.
He stopped at a spot about a quarter mile from his bike, quickly installing his last auto-drive module and grabbing the girl out of the car. The vehicle sped away as he wound his way into the undergrowth, and he found a good spot to hide until he heard his pursuers zoom past.
He breathed a small sigh of relief as the sound of their engines faded into the distance, then quickly refocused. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. (Literally.)
He checked on the girl now that he had a moment. “Is there anywhere that hurts really badly?” he whispered. She shook her head. He didn’t believe her for a second, but there wasn’t much he could do now anyway. “We’ve still got a ways to go. You’re doing so well.” He shrugged out of his lab coat and wrapped it around her, bundling her up before he started jogging to the bike. She was so skinny—he could feel her bones in a very unsettling way. And still so quiet, just hiding her face against his chest. The way her head was tucked did make one of the metal probes attached to her head poke him, but it was nothing more than an annoyance, so he ignored it and ran on. She did turn her head without him saying anything, though.
Later, after a stressful but ultimately uneventful escape, he sat the girl down on a cot in the safe house and stretched out his aching back. He pulled off his mask and wig, slightly regretting spending all that time on it for it to be used for less than a week, then refocused on the girl.
He didn’t want to call for Luna (that woman made his skin crawl), even if she was technically the doctor on call, so he decided to treat the girl himself.
She watched him as he gathered supplies he thought he might need—bandages, antibiotic cream, a pack of wipes—her brown eyes still so sad and lifeless.
He had the passing thought that this was probably how she was treated at the facility, if she was treated at all. In silence, in ignorance, possibly in fear. So he started talking, telling her what he was grabbing, what he was looking for. When he started examining her, he was sure to tell her what he wanted to do and then ask her permission. She was obviously baffled, but she nodded to any request he made.
He didn’t have a clue what to do about the two probes on her head. They didn’t pain her, if her non-reaction to his gentle efforts to clean around them meant anything (it might not), but he could see no obvious way to unattach them.
“They don’t come off,” said the girl in a very quiet voice. “They’re drilled into my skull.”
He froze, his heart dropping, his stomach turning. Bones were more sensitive than people realized—how much pain had she been in when he tried to clean them? Had she learned to hide her pain?
“They don’t hurt,” she continued
He still couldn’t find anything to say. He wondered what they were made out of, if they were somehow attached to her nervous system or full of tech that would harm her if removed.
“They’re just metal,” she said. “100% medical grade stainless steel. No tech.”
He looked at her.
She looked back.
“You’re reading my thoughts,” he thought, testing a hypothesis.
She nodded. “You’re really smart,” she said. “And kind. Thank you for saving me.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He focused on stopping the thoughts that ran nonstop through his mind. Just…stillness. Peace.
The girl’s eyes welled up with tears. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, it’s quiet.”
How long had she been able to read minds? How long had she had to endure the nonstop mental dialogue of whoever had been in that facility?
“As long as I can remember,” she said.
“How old are you?” She looked seven or eight.
She giggled. “I’m ten.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I promise. I’m small for my age, but that’s just how I am.”
He didn’t let himself think anything else about it, instead focusing on checking the bandages around her ankles and wrists.
He got her some food and water, then had her lie down to sleep. She grabbed his hand when he went to stand after tucking her in.
“Please stay,” she whispered.
And so he sat there and waited until she had fallen asleep to unleash the absolute torrent of thoughts he’d been holding back, the absolute despair at how cruel people could be (she was a kid).
He watched her sleep, her hand still tightly gripping his.
He remembered being alone at ten years old. He remembered how much he wished that someone—anyone—would love him and take care of him, that he wasn’t an orphan of war. And he remembered how nobody had. Was he going to be the kind of person he had hated the most as a kid? Was he going to drop this girl off somewhere and hope someone else stepped up to the plate?
He had no idea what to do next.
—
Kohaku knelt in front of the traditional tea servicea, waiting for Hyoga to appear. She knew it was unusual for her to come in person and not wait for him to call her with a new job, but she had something important to say.
Eventually, Hyoga and his shadow Homura walked into the room. The man sat across from Kohaku while Homura took up her post near the wall, silent but observant.
Hyoga prepared and poured the tea. Kohaku continued to kneel. She had never really overcome her tendency to rush into trouble, but she had learned how to make herself sit still for a while if needed.
“I know why you’re here,” said the man. He did not, at any point, remove the mask covering his face, ignoring the cup he poured for himself. “But I want to hear you say it.”
She swallowed. “I…I wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to accept any more jobs from you.” She also ignored the cup in front of her, more from nerves than anything else.
“As expected.” He turned to look out a nearby window and let out a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose with your sister’s successful husband in the picture, earning money from all his inventions, keeping up with the hospital bills isn’t your task anymore.”
Of course he knew. It sent shivers down her spine, even after all this time.
“It pains me to see you want to leave, Kohaku,” said Hyoga. “You have an extraordinary work ethic and far-above-average skills.”
She bowed her head in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything.
He rose from his seat. “But an assassin that doesn’t want to be an assassin isn’t of much use to me. Besides, war has been avoided for now, partly thanks to your efforts.” He stared into her eyes, unnervingly still. “It goes without saying, of course, that we will eliminate you should you prove a threat to us.”
“I will not,” she says resolutely. “I just…want to make my sister happy and live a quiet life.”
At last he looked away, turning to leave. “Very well. I hope you realize I’m only allowing this because of what an asset you’ve been to us and how trustworthy I know you are. If you ever want to get in touch again, don’t bother looking—we’ll find you.”
And then he was gone. Homura stayed and watched her rise and leave, and Kohaku was careful to walk exactly in the middle of every hall as she left. No need to make them think that she stole anything.
Afterwards, she went to a cafe, got a pastry, and just…sat there.
It was done. She was…maybe not “free,” but more free than she had been before. She could start living a normal life, fitting herself perfectly into the part she played for Ruri’s benefit. A nicer job, a better apartment, maybe even dating or marriage. Normal Kohaku Weinberg, living a normal life.
She had no clue where to even start.
—
Tsukasa had not been impressed when Senku showed up late, even if there was a perfectly legitimate excuse in the form of a young girl clinging to his hand.
Senku didn’t even let him speak, though.
“I’m retiring,” he said.
Tsukasa stared at him.
“Effective immediately.”
Tsukasa’s eyebrow twitched.
“Is there paperwork I need to fill out?”
Tsukasa pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Does this gig even have retirement pay? Can I put you on my resume in case I need a new job?” he teased.
“Stone,” Tsukasa growled, using his code name as always, “are you kidding me right now?”
Senku felt Suika press her face into his leg and he put a comforting hand on her back. “No. I’m ten billion percent serious.” He swallowed. “I kind of fell into this work, you know? And now I think I’ve fallen into something else. Still important. Just different.”
Tsukasa looked at Suika with a critical eye. “This is the civilian you rescued from the lab?” he asked. “Why was she there?”
“Experiments,” he said, voice tight. He glanced at the bandages still around her ankles and wrists. “Cruel ones. It’s all in the report.”
Tsukasa still looked skeptical, but he sighed and rose from behind his desk to grab a file from one of the bookcases lining the walls. “Your stubborn determination is as annoying as it is inspiring,” the man muttered as he pulled out a few papers from the file.
He gestured Senku over to the desk, then handed him a pen. “This would be a whole lot harder if we were a recognized military branch, but as it is, all you need to do is read and sign these. Officially, you’re retired from the army science division. All the usual contacts will still be in place, if you need references for a new job.” The man leaned forward, his height lending him an ominous feel. “I think it goes without saying what will happen if you start spilling secrets.”
Senku snickered. “No one will get a single millimeter of information from me, I promise.”
“Hm.” Tsukasa sat back down, sighing dramatically. “The retirement pay is a pittance at best. You’ll want to start job hunting right away.”
That worried Senku a bit. No job meant no apartment, and no apartment meant Suika would have to sleep on the streets with him. He was used to it—he did not want Suika to get used to it.
Tsukasa must’ve seen something on his face, because he sighed even louder and then dug around in his desk drawer until he pulled out a key. “Here. The rent’s paid for the next three months. Just leave the key on the kitchen table when you find a new place.”
Senku was so shocked that he didn’t take the key at first.
Tsukasa finally cracked a smile, a very small one. “I get it. I know what wanting to protect someone is like.”
Oh. Tsukasa had had a younger sister, he remembered. Senku didn’t know what had happened, but that little girl wasn’t around any more. He set his hand on top of Suika’s head and hoped things went better for the two of them.
“Besides, when you’re not being a complete pain in my neck, you’ve been a good friend. We may not ever see each other again, so…here’s my thanks and ‘good luck’ and all that.”
Senku took the key, staring at it and the little tag with the address written on it. “Well,” he said, not quite able to muster his usual levels of sarcasm, “I appreciate it. Thank you, Tsukasa.”
There was nothing more to do, so he ushered Suika back to the elevator.
“Senku,” Tsukasa called, and it was startling to hear his real name from the man, but he turned a bit. “If you ever want to rejoin, go to the Berlint Hospital and ask to speak with Doctor Forger.”
Senku nodded. He didn’t think he ever would, but it was nice to know the option was there.
—
Kohaku was starting to hate her new job.
This was her second week of working at City Hall. She had been hit on three times, groped once, reprimanded for punching the guy that groped her (the guy got off with a “warning”), and to stop it off, her coworkers were catty and snide.
Her new apartment also sucked. Without the funds from her assassin gigs, she couldn’t afford her old apartment, and her current job didn’t pay enough for a nicer one. To keep up the charade she had built, she told Ruri and Chrome that she’d been fired from her job (and then she quit her old cover job).
And just because things weren’t bad enough, she’d panicked and told her sister she was dating someone to keep her from asking questions about a coworker’s dinner party, but of course Ruri wanted to meet the person, and now she had to find a someone to ask to go to a party she didn’t want to go to in the first place.
Once again, she didn’t know what to do.
She started by heading to the bakery to get herself a pastry.
“I can really get anything?” asked a small girl clinging to a man’s hand in front of the counter.
“Just one treat. But yes, you can pick anything,” said the man. He glanced back at Kohaku, then tugged the girl off to the side. “Go ahead,” he told Kohaku with a smirk. “I think we’ll be looking for a while.”
Kohaku couldn’t help but watch them in her periphery as she placed her usual order. They looked nothing alike, and the girl looked frightened of everything but the man holding her hand. All of her clothes were new—no scuffs or wear, the dress still crisp from being starched at the store, the shoes still shiny and uncomfortable, if the way she kept shifting her feet in them meant anything. And she was obviously overwhelmed and excited about going to a cafe.
Recent adoption or foster kid, or maybe a stepchild, she guessed. Father, rather than uncle or parent’s friend. She sighed as she paid. Too bad he’s married, then. He’s kind of cute. I was thinking of asking him to go on that fake dinner date with me.
The little girl gasped, then said, “I sure wish I had a mama who could get a treat with us.”
The man blinked down at her. “What?”
“A mama! I don’t have one, and I think it’d be nice to have one!”
Oh? Well, then. Maybe she did have a chance.
She couldn’t just barge in and ask him to go on a date first thing, though. Maybe a bit of conversation? She walked over to them, smiling at them. “Have you picked a treat yet?” she asked the girl.
The girl shook her head and half hid behind her father’s leg. “There’s so many! I want to try them all!”
The man laughed and put his hand on her head. “We’ll just keep coming back so you can try them all. One treat at a time, though.”
“Papaaaa,” whined the little girl, who sighed before mumbling, “alright.”
Looking more closely at her, Kohaku could see the pallor of the little girl’s cheeks. If Kohaku had to guess, the girl had been stuck inside until recently—maybe a bad orphanage or an illness. It…it reminded Kohaku of Ruri.
“Well, I can tell you my favorite so you have a place to start!” Kohaku said, gesturing for the girl to come over to the case so she could see more clearly. “This one,” she said, pointing to the treat. “It’s a chocolate croissant. I just got one myself!”
“Papa!” said the girl, grabbing her father by the sleeve. “Papa, I want a chocolate crows—cross—cress—um, that one!”
The man nodded. “Sure. Hot cocoa, too?”
The girl’s eyes widened comically large behind her glasses. “Yes! Yes, yes please!”
The man placed his order and started leading his daughter to a booth. Kohaku sighed. Well, so much for that.
“Wait!” said the girl, running back to her and grabbing her hand. “Miss, you gotta sit with us! So I can tell you if I like the crowsant!”
“Suika,” chided the man, “don’t bother her.” He looked up at Kohaku, his oddly-colored eyes meeting hers. “Sorry, ma’am. We’ll let you enjoy your croissant in peace.”
“I—I don’t mind!” Kohaku found herself saying, her shoulders creeping up to her ears. “It’s your first time trying one, right?” she said to the girl. Suika, was it? Suika nodded. “Then it will be fun to see what you think!”
The man eyed her, face expressionless.
“Please, Papa?” asked Suika. “I like her. I think she’s nice.”
The man sighed. “Well, alright then. Shall we?”
“I’m Kohaku,” she said after they sat down. “Kohaku Weinberg.”
“Senku Ishigami,” said the man, “and this is my daughter.”
“I’m Suika!”
Kohaku smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm. She really warmed up to people quickly, didn’t she? “It’s nice to meet you both.” She hadn’t seen them around before, and she wondered if they had moved in recently or were just visiting, but was that too intrusive for a first conversation?
“We just moved here!” Suika told her. “Papa’s going to teach chemistry at the university.”
Kohaku raised her eyebrows. He looked pretty young—he must be very smart. “Wow, congratulations. I hope you like it here.”
Senku nodded. “I’m sure we will. Everyone has been very welcoming so far.”
“What do you do?” asked Suika.
Her father looked pained by the girl’s candid boldness. Kohaku found it refreshing. “I work at City Hall.” I hate it.
Suika hummed and eyed her thoughtfully. “That sounds boring.” Senku covered his face with a hand and sighed. “What do you do for fun?”
I can’t say martial arts. Everyone thinks women who like to fight are strange. “I like to exercise,” she said instead.
The worker brought out their orders—both of them—and Suika was staring at her pastry with wide eyes.
Kohaku saw Senku take a sip of his coffee (a latte, rather than the straight black she would have guessed), and if she hadn’t been paying attention, she probably would have thought him ignorant or uncaring of his daughter’s moment with the pastry. He was keeping a steady eye on her, though, looking ready to intervene should this somehow prove too challenging.
“Papa,” she whispered. “How do I eat the whole thing?” Was she not used to treats at all?
“You don’t have to eat it all right now. We’ll take whatever you don’t eat home and you’ll have a good snack for later,” he said in an equally quiet voice. She continued staring, eyes glazing over, and Senku reached over to feel her forehead. “Doing okay?” he asked. “Do we need to go?”
Suika shook her head, but she winced like she had a headache. “I’m okay, I promise. It’s just…um, there’s a lot of people…”
Kohaku wondered if it was an anxiety thing. Whatever the reason, she could help with that, at least. She cleared her throat lightly to get Senku’s attention. “Have you visited the park just down the street from here? It’s usually pretty empty this time of day.”
Suika brightened, then frowned at her drink.
Kohaku laughed. “They have to-go cups here, if you want to bring your drinks as well.” Suika leapt from the booth to run to the counter.
Kohaku watched her wave to get the barista’s attention (maybe she wasn't shy with people after all), then turned back to Senku.
He…did not look especially happy.
“Your daughter is very sweet,” Kohaku said, face flushing. She was very aware of how she had just sort of butted into their day.
He stared a moment longer, brows lowered…then sighed and slumped down a little bit. “Yeah, she’s great. That’s nothing to do with me, though.”
Kohaku huffed. “No, it’s everything to do with you. You care, right? You’re here buying her sweets she’s never tried, making sure she’s okay. She’s not afraid to be a bit of a brat, but she’s so sweet-hearted that she wouldn’t anyways.” She bit her lip as she realized what she had said—was that weird? Too much? She needed to practice normal conversation.
Senku was looking at her with wide eyes, though, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Was he…nervous about being a dad? Single parenthood was never easy, but he was obviously doing his best. Was he worried he wasn’t doing well enough? He cracked a smile, and it suited him—he should smile often.
—
Senku hadn’t expected to have a third person join their day, but Suika seemed determined to get the woman—Kohaku—to come with them everywhere they’d planned to go. At least she was nice.
Maybe too nice.
Suika squeezed his hand then, and he looked down at her. “Papa. I told you—I like her. She’s a good person.” And then widened her eyes meaningfully.
Oh, right. The mind reading thing. Well, what if Suika misunderstood? How did mind reading work, anyways? He wouldn’t be much of a scientist if he just took other people’s word for everything, and this was no different.
Suika grumbled but kept holding his hand. He gently squeezed back. Sorry. I want us to be safe.
But Kohaku just kept being nice, and being observant about what Suika was doing and feeling, and they had a nice day, all things considered.
It was at the end of the day, when Suika was looking through a shop window, that Kohaku seemed a bit nervous. “Say, Senku…I know we just met today, but I was wondering…ah, would you like to go to a dinner party with me?”
He quickly stepped away from her. No. No, no, no. He did not want any romantic nonsense happening in his life.
“It’s just…!” She sighed. “Look, I’m not looking for a relationship. My sister is worried about me, though, and she thinks I need a partner, and we’ve had a pretty good time today, so if you wouldn’t mind being my fake date to a party and maybe to meet my sister, I would really appreciate it. I’d pay you back somehow, of course.” She was tugging the sleeves of her coat, too nervous to make eye contact.
“Your sister, huh?”
Kohaku nodded. “Yes. She’s been sick since we were kids, and I’ve been trying to keep her from worrying about me, but then I panicked and said something dumb, and…even if it’s pretend, it will help her not worry about me, and that’s enough for me.”
He could respect that.
Kohaku continued with a small scowl, “And…people are weird about single women in their late twenties. If I show up to the dinner with a boyfriend, maybe they’ll leave me alone.”
Senku tilted his head, considering. Suika liked her…and there were benefits for both parties…
Well, that was a conversation for later. “Sure, I don’t mind.”
She beamed at him, her whole face lighting up. “Oh, thank you! The party is this Friday. Would you be okay to meet me there?” He nodded and she gave him the address. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”
The rest of the week passed quickly, and soon it was Friday. Only…well, he was running late.
A half-hour after he was supposed to meet Kohaku at the corner so they could walk to the party together, he arrived.
He saw the blatant relief on Kohaku’s face as she saw him. Had she worried he’d stood her up?
He also saw the moment she realized why he was late. Her lips pressed together and her eyes sparkled—because Suika was holding his hand, dressed in a nice party dress and matching beanie, looking completely innocent of any misbehavior.
“Sorry,” he said as they got close. “Someone insisted on coming with me.”
Suika smiled up at Kohaku.
Kohaku laughed. “Alright, that’s fine. Let’s get going, shall we?”
The party was…awkward. Kohaku’s coworkers were snide and gossipy, and he saw a few men leering at her until they registered his presence by her side. She was polite, though, even when some particularly rude words about her figure and relationship status were spoken a bit too close and loud to be unintentional.
Suika played with the other kids in a corner with some toys set out. Hopefully the thoughts of the kids would drown out the nonsense he was sure was happening in the brains of the adults.
When one man, obviously drunk, wandered over and started posturing like some exotic bird (flirting? With Senku or Kohaku? Unclear), Senku couldn’t help but laugh. He immediately regretted it when the guy proceeded to launch fists at his face.
Senku had had to do some physical training to be a spy, even if his work was usually in labs or hospitals or offices. He’d always been terrible at the physical stuff, and he’d always hated being beat up. He knew how to take a punch, though, and prepared for impact.
It never came. Kohaku did…something, and the guy was falling backwards with a bloody nose.
And then Kohaku was promptly asked to leave and not to bother coming back to work tomorrow.
Which is how he, Suika, and Kohaku came to be walking down the street, Kohaku muttering and clenching her fists.
Senku felt awful—this was supposed to be a favor to her. He’d do this, meet her sister, then bring up a long-term arrangement for both their benefit: her to avoid weirdos at work, him to avoid people who gave him trouble about being a single parent (like the group he’d rescued Suika from who were no doubt looking for him).
And now she’d lost her job because he’d laughed at a guy who took it way too personally.
“Kohaku,” he said, “I’m so sorry. I…I’ll help you find another job if you want, or just…maybe pay you? I know how tough the job market is right now.”
She waved his offers off, instead wandering over to a bench to plop down and hide her face in her hands. Suika looked between Kohaku and Senku before running over to the woman to give her a hug.
Kohaku laughed and hugged the girl back, but Senku could see her red eyes—she’d been crying, or about to.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said to both of them in a voice that could pass for cheerful. “I didn’t like that job much anyways.”
Suika was considering her thoughtfully and Senku wondered what she was “hearing” from Kohaku.
“You’re really strong, Miss,” Suika said. “I bet you could be a great gym teacher or something.”
What was Suika up to?
“Or maybe…uh, papa, what’s it called when you learn to fight back?”
“Self defense?”
“Yeah! A self defense teacher! A lot of ladies have to deal with gross men, right?” How did Suika know that? “So you can teach them how to beat them up or something! Or how to get away, or anything, really.”
Kohaku smiled at Suika and said, “Those are really good ideas, Suika. I’ll keep those in mind while I’m looking for a new job.” Then she sighed and turned back to the street. “I guess I’ll have to ask my sister if I can move in with her in the meantime.”
“Move in with us.”
Senku had a moment of disbelief that Suika would offer that before he realized he had spoken. Ah, crap.
Both of his companions were looking at him with wide eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Just for appearances. You said people made being a single woman near thirty a pain, right? Same with being a single dad. Not as bad, I’m sure, though. But we could…pretend to be in a relationship, to be married, live in the same house, like roommates.” He was aware this was out of the blue and he wouldn’t be surprised if Kohaku punched him in the face as well before storming off. “It would solve problems for both of us.”
Kohaku seemed to be considering it. She looked down at Suika and started to say something, but Suika cut her off, bouncing up and down. “Yes! Come stay with us! I’d love that so much!”
Kohaku laughed and rubbed her eyes. “Really? That would actually be great. Um…well, if you’re serious, then do you want to get married? I can meet you at the courthouse tomorrow. I’ll bring my sister and her husband. It’ll…be a whole little thing.” She squeezed Suika a bit closer. “We could even get a little cake or something to celebrate.”
And so it was that Senku was engaged to a woman he’d known for a week.
He spent Saturday morning looking at rings (he’d asked for her ring size before they parted ways the night before) and Suika helped him pick one that she thought Kohaku would like while he picked a plain, sensible band for himself.
As an afterthought, and since he had some time to kill, he stopped by Gen’s shop to tell him the news—both the fact that Senku had become a father and was getting married.
Gen invited himself to the wedding (“You’ll need a best man, won’t you?”), then won Suika’s affection with some tricks with some flowers. (She demanded he show her lots of times so she could figure out how he did it, which he obliged her with.)
When Suika ran ahead to pick her own flower to practice with, Gen hissed in his ear, “What mission requires both a kid and a wife?”
Senku shrugged. “None. I retired. I’m going to be a university teacher.”
Gen laughed, then seemed to realize Senku was being entirely serious. “Wait, so you got a kid and wife because you wanted to?”
Senku looked at Suika, now picking herself a little bouquet. “More or less.” When Suika ran back to him and asked if he thought Kohaku would like it for the wedding, he smiled at her. “I think she will.” It’s from you, kiddo. I’m sure she’ll love it.
—
Kohaku thought her sister was taking the impending wedding well, all things considered. That, or she’d gone into shock. At least Chrome brought a camera—she wasn’t sure Ruri was going to remember any of this.
Suika was absolutely adorable, as expected. She wore a fluffy dress that made her look like a flower, and Kohaku almost melted when the girl handed her a hand-picked bouquet.
Senku looked…Kohaku bit her lip to keep from laughing. He’d brought a friend, and that friend was fussing about Senku’s suit and hair. Senku, looking very harassed, quickly came to stand next to Kohaku.
“Quick, introduce me to your sister,” he hissed, “and maybe Gen will leave me alone.”
Laughing, she brought him over and made the introductions.
He and Chrome really hit it off once Senku mentioned his upcoming position at the university Chrome worked at, and the two of them were gabbing about minerals or something until Ruri started herding them inside. “It’s time for our appointment,” she said. “Let’s get you two married!”
Ruri knew they were getting married for convenience, but she was fully committed to making Senku and Suika feel welcomed and part of the family.
The judge married them quickly and they signed the register.
Oh. It’s not Weinberg anymore, is it? Kohaku Ishigami. Huh.
“Do you have any rings to exchange?” asked the judge. Suika stepped up to them, hands outstretched.
And Kohaku nearly had a heart attack, because the ring Senku picked up to put on her finger looked an awful lot like her mother’s old ring. It wasn’t—too new, the filigree slightly different—but they were very much the same style.
She hadn’t thought about her mother’s ring in so long (they’d had to pawn it for food money), and she’d briefly let herself imagine having it for her wedding when Senku asked her to marry him, but to have it be so similar…
“Do you not like the ring?” Senku asked in a quiet voice when she had stood unmoving for a bit too long. “We can return it—”
“It’s perfect,” she said, holding out her hand for Senku to put it on. “It’s absolutely perfect. Thank you so much.” She gave his hand a squeeze after he slid the ring on and blinked back the tears of emotion trying to escape her. Senku looked a little worried, but he didn’t say anything else about it and let her slide the plain metal band onto his finger.
And then it was off to Chrome and Ruri’s house to celebrate.
They walked there, and Suika held both Kohaku and Senku’s hands, swinging her arms back and forth and humming. Kohaku knew it was an act, a pretend family—but she decided she was going to make it work. She’d give her all, just like she always did, and do her best to be the mother Suika needed and a good roommate to Senku.
She didn’t know, of course, that Senku was thinking much along the same lines. I’ll give it ten billion percent, he promised himself. I’ll be the kind of man Byakuya would be proud to call a son, even if I don’t think this was how he ever imagined getting a daughter-in-law and grandchild.
As for Suika, she was feeling quite proud of herself for having found a dad, a mom, an aunt, and two uncles (she was counting Gen as an uncle—he was weird but nice) within a quarter of a year of being rescued.
Now all she needed was a dog, and she’d be the happiest girl in the world.
@senhaku-week
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A Lost Empire
AO3 link • FF.net link
Kohaku took her job very seriously. She was an assigned protector for Prince Senku. When he got into trouble (and he always did), she was there to get him out of it. It did help to know what the situation was, though.
“Prince, what does the scroll say?” she asked from her position behind where he was sitting.
The prince in question was holding a scroll from his father, the emperor, and staring into the fire with a serious look on his face. He flinched when he heard her voice, looking at her with wide eyes.
“Well, lioness,” he said, rising to his feet and stretching, “it looks like here is where we part ways.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Very funny, Prince. Where are we going next? Does your father have some diplomatic work for you?” Prince Senku hated diplomacy stuff, but he did it if his father asked him to.
“I’m ten billion percent serious,” he said, but his smile looked fake. Forced. “I’ll be setting off on my own.”
She stood quietly for a moment, wrestling with the urge to just hoist the man over her shoulder and carry him back to the palace.
While she stewed, Senku held out a second smaller scroll towards her. “Before I go, this one’s for you. From your sister, I think.”
Kohaku took the scroll but did not open it. She…had been hoping this day never came.
Senku watched her, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t open it. “What, don’t want me to read over your shoulder?” he sneered.
She looked around. They had been on their own for a while now. Any courtiers or servants had been dismissed. There was…no one else to ask. And Ruri had sent her the letter directly, so she knew it was important.
“Prince,” she started, then steeled her nerves and bowed deeply. “I can’t read. I hate to ask this of you, but could you read it to me?” She hoped he wouldn’t be too offended by the request. He was reasonable most of the time, but she was asking him to do a job a servant might do.
“You…can’t read?” He sounded baffled.
Kohaku felt her cheeks burning.
“Why did you pick to be my bodyguard, then?”
She knew what he meant. He was a scholar, a mathematician, a scientist. His world and his work revolved around words, writing and sharing and teaching. But he seemed to be a bit mistaken about how the palace guard worked. “I was chosen to be your bodyguard because I can’t read. For your privacy and safety. If I ever learned, I would be dismissed immediately.”
Senku scowled. “I don’t believe for a second that my father allowed that to happen.”
She straightened up and fiddled with the tie on the little scroll in her hand. “Captain Hyoga assigned me personally. I assumed his orders were from the emperor.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have taught you myself.”
She scoffed. Senku was smart, but he’d never had to work (or try to keep) a job a day in his life. “I wanted to keep my job.”
Senku brought his hand up to his face, covering his mouth. He seemed to be thinking very hard. “Okay. Well, I’ll read it for you, and then I’m going, alright?”
She nodded, already resolved to follow Senku at a safe distance if he tried to leave her behind, and handed over the letter.
“Ah,” he said after opening it and reading for a few seconds, “looks like she got married.”
Kohaku almost fell over in shock. “W-what?! To who?!”
“Uh, some guy named Magma.”
Kohaku did fall to her knees then. “Oh, no, what happened to Father? He’d never agree to her marrying Magma. And Chrome! Chrome wouldn’t stand for this. Are you sure it says married? Not engaged?” If she was just engaged, Kohaku could sneak in and spirit her away. She might do that regardless of Ruri’s marital status.
He held the scroll out. “You can check for yourself.”
“I just told you I can’t read!” she snapped. “You don’t need to rub it in!” She then realized she had snapped at the Prince and folded into a deep bow. “My Prince, I’m so sorry, I did not mean any disrespect.”
He sighed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll read it again. Maybe I misread.” There was a pause, and then he said, “Oh, she isn’t going to be married to Magma. My bad. Apparently he tried to fight your dad for her hand and lost. And…your probation is lifted? What?”
Kohaku practically melted in relief. “Oh, thank the heavens.”
He eyed her. No surprise there—Kohaku usually tried to mask her emotions. It felt more professional. “This Magma guy…a bad dude?”
She scoffed. “A jerk. Ruri is sick, and he’s said within her hearing that he just wants to marry her for her property and then kill her off.”
“And your dad didn’t…I don’t know, get the headman to kick him out or something?”
She laughed. “My father is the headman. Magma is our cousin, so he was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, I think.”
Senku looked at her skeptically. “I’m surprised you didn’t kick his ass, lioness.”
She grinned, wide and almost feline in its smugness. “I did. That’s why I was at the palace looking for work—Father put me on probation and banished me. But Ruri didn’t have to marry Magma, so I’m okay with it.”
Senku considered her. “That’s right, you’ve only worked for me for half a year now, haven’t you?” He looked off into the trees. “And most of that time you’ve spent with me, doing research outside the palace.”
—
Senku had been prepared to bolt as soon as he read his father’s hidden message—run, and trust no one—but his conversation with Kohaku had opened his eyes to a few things.
One: Hyoga was probably a traitor, and possibly the other guards as well. If the man had ignored the emperor’s wishes about what his son wanted in a bodyguard, what else had he ignored or fabricated?
Two: Kohaku literally couldn’t read. She hadn’t tried to check the letter when he’d lied about Ruri marrying Magma, and she was just a terrible liar in general, so he didn’t think she was faking illiteracy. That meant the only way she could receive messages was by word-of-mouth, and she didn’t leave his side at all, so he didn’t think she was secretly coordinating with the rebel sect. She wasn't the kind of person who tried to do underhanded, sneaky things, either, or even understood them, so it was entirely possible that she had been contacted and just didn’t understand the directives. She was just…very unfortunate in her timing for working in the palace.
Three: her father was a man of some power. Senku saw the wisdom of laying low, but he wasn’t about to let any rebellion corrupt what his father had worked so hard to build—an empire that encouraged learning and was trying to feed everyone in its borders. And then meant he needed people to help him. And the letter did say her probation was lifted…
He looked over at her. She was standing up and brushing dirt off her knees. She was usually quiet and very quick to act if she felt his safety was being threatened. Strong, determined, and sometimes a bit snarky. He’d enjoyed their time together, traveling the empire.
But could he trust her?
“Kohaku,” he said, and she jumped to attention with wide eyes.
“Yes, my Prince.”
Well, that was going to have to go. “From now on, just call me Senku.” He kept talking even though it looked like she had questions. “My scroll was from my father. There’s been some trouble at the capital, and long story short, my father is no longer in power and I’m no longer a prince.”
Kohaku stood there with her mouth open.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to catch flies, lioness.”
Her mouth snapped shut. “But, sir…”
“Sen-ku. It’s not hard.”
“I don’t…”
“I’m going into hiding for the time being,” he continued, rolling up the message from her sister and retying it. “I need a place to regroup and plan a counterattack.”
“Come to my village,” she said, and he was impressed at how quickly she offered. “My father respects Emperor Byakuya a great deal and would gladly help him or his son.”
“Can he keep my identity a secret?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes, but we shouldn’t tell anyone else. We can say you’re…hm, a scholar from the palace?”
“That works for me. Lead the way,” he said, gesturing them onwards.
They’d rescue his father and get the empire back, ten billion percent.
@senhaku-week
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What We Build Together
AO3 link • FF.net link
This is based on ch 232.1. I changed some of the order of events, but hopefully nothing out of the realm of reason.
Senku was glad he wasn’t alone.
Would it have been safer, easier, to just drag petrified Kohaku along? Of course. He’d gotten better at things requiring strength, and he wasn’t too bad at fishing and diving now, either.
(It felt like just last week he was saving Kohaku from being trapped under a tree. But no, it had been years and years. They’d been friends for almost half their lives.)
He’d have survived just fine on his own while gathering the statues of his friends and making more revival fluid. But as she’d said, he’d wanted her there. A partner.
He asked her to grab some seaweed, then went about making rope and tying two palm trees together while Kohaku caught them something to eat. Less risk of rotation and suddenly being dumped into the ocean when they didn’t want to be if they had at least two trunks to work with. Those tied off, he considered his next step.
For shelter…palm leaves would work. He pulled the leaves at the top of the trees over and up to make a shelter from the sun, then gathered more to weave a mat for sitting or sleeping on, then still more to dry out to burn. Next up was desalination, and maybe a place for fire.
Kohaku popped to the surface. “Senku!” she sang. “I’ve got dinner!” And proceeded to hoist the biggest fish Senku had ever seen in his life onto the raft.
“What the hell?” he said, laughing incredulously. “Where’d you find this monster?”
She pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the logs, leaning back on her hands. “Oh, just swimming around.”
“Well, I think we’re set for food, lioness,” he teased, dragging the fish to be a bit more securely placed. “Probably for the next month or so.”
She laughed. “More like a day! I’m already starving!”
Not surprising—she probably had a super high metabolism in general, and swimming so much would only burn up more calories. “Want to help me make a fire pit, then?”
She flexed one arm. “Ready! What do you need?”
He told her and off she went. Meanwhile, he put together his first attempt at a simple solar desalination plant.
As the sun started to set, they had the basics—food, water, and shelter. They shared a meal of salt-seasoned roasted fish, then sat and looked at the stars for a while.
“One more time,” Kohaku said after a while. “I think I’m starting to get it. Stars are fire. I get that. Big balls of fire, floating in space, way far away. So far away that it would take thousands and thousands of years to get to one. And light…takes time to travel?”
“Yup.”
“Hm.”
He knew she was skeptical. “I could show you some cool experiments that show it when we get back to civilization. I bet Xeno has the equipment set up.”
“Sure, I’d like that. So because light apparently takes time to travel—”
“It does!”
“—the stars we’re seeing could be all burnt out right now. We just can’t see it yet.”
“Yup.”
She tilted her head and hummed. “It kind of hurts my head to think about, the universe being that big, the stars being that far away.”
“Humans aren’t really built for that big of big numbers. You remember the hundred and fifty limit Gen talked about? We’re wired for numbers for communities like that.”
“Except you,” she said, nudging his shoulder with her own. “Dr Stone, genius scientist of the New World or whatever they’re calling you.”
He huffed. “No, I’m the same as everyone else.”
“Ha!”
“I mean it!” He suddenly found it hard to find the right words. This wasn’t something he talked about, ever. But…well, he and Kohaku were as alone as it got right now, and there was no one else he’d rather talk about this with. “I…I learned this stuff, you know? I wasn’t born with a better understanding of everything. I’m not a genius. I had to work for…all of it. I had to practice mental math. I had to practice remembering things and reading fast and all that other stuff.” He kicked one of his feet back and forth in the water of the ocean with a sigh. “Maybe I’m good at counting, maybe I have a decent memory, but I worked for and practiced everything else, and it feels kind of lame when they call me a ‘genius,’ or treat me like I’m not even human or something. Like I didn’t have to try and fail and try again until I got it right.”
“I know,” Kohaku said softly. “I’ve seen it. You’re the most hardworking person I know, though, and I think that’s still pretty special.”
He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Coming from someone who ran kilometers carrying giant jugs of water every day for years?”
She shoved him lightly. “Shut up! That was ages ago!”
“Coming from someone who sat down and wouldn’t move until they learned all the kana so I would ‘stop bugging you’ about it?”
“Senku!”
He laughed. “Coming from the strongest person I know? That’s something.”
She grinned at him, leaning towards him. “I’m the strongest person you know? Really? Did I hear that right? Not Tsukasa or Taiju?”
He felt his ears start to burn at her scrutiny. “I said it once, I won’t say it again.”
She giggled, scooting close enough that he could feel the heat of her skin. They sat in pleasant silence for a moment before she said, “I get it. The genius thing. People have said all my life that my strength is ‘sorcery’ or ‘unnatural’ or something. Even now.”
He frowned. “What, seriously? Still? The rescue crews you work with say that?” He hadn’t known that—he had thought things were going well.
“Yup,” she said with a sigh. “Like you said, though, I worked for it. Maybe I have a body built for strength or speed, but if I didn’t try to improve, it wouldn’t mean anything. I’d be as weak as anyone else. It’s like…potential. I made use of my potential, but it was still work.”
He considered what she said, staring at the water. He hadn’t known she felt that way. Neither of them was the type to complain all the time, after all. But his earlier statement didn’t quite sit right anymore, didn’t quite cover all he wanted to say. “Then how about this: you are the most hardworking, loyal, steadfast person I know.” He glanced at her, lit by the light of the moon and stars. “I’m honored to be part of your life.”
Her eyes shone with light reflected off the water as she glanced back at him, a contented smile dancing across her face. “And I’m honored to be part of yours.” She then did something he’d never seen her do —she bit her lip and turned away, reaching up with one hand to play with her hair. Had she ever been timid before? “No matter what happens,” she said in a low, earnest voice, “whether it’s crashing in a plane or landing on the moon, good times or bad, saving the world or just sitting here, I want to be by your side. For…for the rest of our lives, if I could do that, I’d be the happiest woman alive.”
Senku realized, as his heart pounded a little faster, he had no idea how dating and marriage proposals normally worked in Ishigami Village. Chrome had just blurted out “let’s get married” to Ruri (and after all that planning and rehearsing he made Senku sit through) and they hadn’t even been dating, but that was Ruri and Chrome—they’d kind of decided to get married when they were kids and hadn’t formalized it until recently. He didn’t imagine Kohaku to be the type to ask unpetrified people about marriage or weddings just for fun, either, so she probably didn’t realize how similar her words sounded to marriage vows in some cultures.
And he’d been wondering, recently, if this was where their relationship was going. Not with disgust or even trepidation, as he might have when he was younger. Even now, the thought of loving and marrying some unknowable future “someone” did not appeal to him on any level.
The thought of loving and marrying Kohaku did appeal to him. A lot. “A life where I can always stand beside you is maybe the most exciting thing I can think of,” he said, meaning every word of it. Even the boring stuff—the domestic things and everyday nonsense—would be better if he knew Kohaku would always be with him.
Their world was quiet, limited to their breathing and the gentle splash of water. He could feel her breath on his skin as she looked up at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “Senku…” she breathed out, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, watching for any hint or sign that she wanted him to stop.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her face up to meet his.
He’d never kissed anyone before. (He’d never wanted to.) He wondered if she had. One of them should probably have an idea what they were doing, right? Maybe they’d just have to figure this out together.
And then his lips were brushing hers, warm and soft, and he wasn’t thinking about much of anything besides how nice this felt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and increased the pressure of the kiss, tilting her head a bit.
Tentatively, he moved his arm around her waist, setting his hand against her back. She moaned—a soft, humming moan then sent fire zipping through his blood—and he trembled at how overwhelming this was. He never wanted to stop. Could a person live on nothing but kisses?
It’s just hormones, said his stupid brain. A natural biological response.
He ignored it and focused instead on the feeling of her fingers running through his hair.
But both of them were really tired after a whole day of hard work in an unfamiliar, unsafe environment, so their kisses naturally lowered in intensity until only their foreheads were pressed together, both of them breathing a little heavier.
Originally, Senku had planned for them to sleep in shifts. Their little “hut” didn’t have much room, after all, and it was probably smart to have at least one person awake in such an uncertain situation.
But Kohaku was tugging him over to the palm leaf bed and pulling him to lay down beside her, and he couldn’t find it in him to protest. They were lying facing each other, Kohaku’s eyes still shining in the dark. “Good night,” she whispered, her hands curled up by her face.
He reached up to cover her hands with his, pulling them to rest exactly between them. Tomorrow would be difficult—it always was—but as long as they faced the day together, Senku knew they’d be okay.
@senhaku-week
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