Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Regaining consciousness was not going the way I thought it would. I expected blinding lights, tiled ceilings, and the distinct smell of antiseptic burning my nose. Beeping monitors. Quiet chatter. The subtle scuff of shoes from doctors and nurses in the hallways. My mom and sister at my bedside, relieved, sitting with happy tears in their eyes as I opened up mine. I should be waking up in a hospital.

Instead, my eyes found shadowed green illuminated sparsely by bright rays of sunshine. A canopy forest waves above. A crisp freshness in the air that I never experienced before. There was a calmness about it. Peaceful yet nerve-wracking simultaneously. The chirping of birds filled my ears, followed by the flapping of wings as they flew off. The chill in the air caused goosebumps to crawl up my arms. Complete sensory overload. I was dragged out of nothingness and placed smack dab in the middle of the…wild?

Looming over me was…

Ishigami Senku.

Not my family. The boy with the red eyes and wild personality. I’d recognize him anywhere, even without his lab coat draped over him. We had been friends long ago, Senku and I. Though our passions sent us in different directions. Science for him. The draw to popularity for me. Don’t judge me for that. I'm still a nerd at heart. A lover of books and language. Biology, microbiology specifically, took a backseat. Senku had a reputation for being an eccentric teen scientist, erratic in the way he solved problems, intelligent beyond teenage comprehension. A nutcase according to some sources. Sources like the people I’d chosen to associate with lately. Right, past tense. My high school days have been long over. That was beyond evident.

Senku wasn’t someone I chose to spend time with in high school. Not that I abandoned him after middle school, but there was…distance. There were moments, insignificant, but there in my mind. The longer we stared at each other, the more I remembered. That disinterested gaze as we passed each other in the hallways. I’d caught him glancing at me more than once. Senku is a smart-as-hell science nerd with no time for emotions, but a teenage boy nonetheless.

There was a relieving shimmer in his eyes, something I couldn’t understand at the moment, but filed it away like everything else for safekeeping. I had to squint to see him properly, my vision was blurry without my glasses. He looked…different. Something about his face that I couldn’t quite place.

The shock of awakening overpowered the sudden awareness that I was naked. I hadn’t realized it at first, but I could feel the wind in places I shouldn’t be able to. Grass touched my backside where it definitely should not. Even so, I didn’t cover myself. Senku's eyes stayed on mine and mine on his. The air between us charged, but far from awkward. Plenty of unspoken words passed between us. I couldn’t help the feelings of guilt creeping up on me. I never should’ve cared about social hierarchy. I should have been a better friend. I thought about that a lot in that darkness, and now here he was.

“How long?” I finally spoke. It was a loaded question that he didn’t answer right away. The memories of the green light returned as quickly as everything else. I turned to my right instinctively, expecting my sister to be there. She had been right next to me when it happened, but there was nothing but dense forest. A lump formed in my throat. Panic building in my chest. Senku’s voice and the jolt of his next words halted it all before I could truly start to lose it. There was no one else here aside from him and me, so my eyes returned to his striking red ones. Unnatural in a way that always drew me in. My theory that he wore contacts went out the window long ago.

“Three thousand and seven hundred years.” He said it calmly, but his statement was definitive. He ripped the bandaid off. The word impossible rested on the tip of my tongue, ready to be spoken, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. The fact that I was naked in the woods with Senku of all people in front of me was impossible enough. That darkness was impossible enough. It was real and therefore possible to have been comatose, unconscious, or whatever for that long.

“And I’m naked.” I blinked, a faint warmth growing on my face, knowing I’d been lying on the ground staring into each other's eyes for a minute or more. A joke about Adam and Eve played in my mind, but I couldn’t even manage a smirk despite the thought being funny. My mind raced, fighting to catch up.

“That’s your concern right now?” His tone held a sarcastic lilt, but his face remained neutral. I had half a mind to think he didn’t want to move. Move, and he might look. What a gentleman, I thought sarcastically. He offered his hand to help me up, glancing away. Senku offered his hand? What fresh hell is this? I didn’t take it, standing on my feet, brushing off dirt that only smudged.

“I’m a girl. I’ve been unconscious for a few thousand years. I just woke up, alone, in the woods, butt-ass naked with a boy. My only reprieve is the fact it’s you in front of me. So, yeah, Senku, it’s a concern. Do I at least look good?” The question was meant to be humorous for my own sake. The growing weight of the situation made me want to cry. My knees threatened to buckle. I wished I were more like Senku, always calm and collected, separated from my emotions. This was unknown and scary, my sister was missing, and I’m freaking naked!

There was a twitch, a glance, and Senku averted his gaze, slapping that look of disinterest back on his face with a sigh, dipping his head. Watching him had always been interesting, especially when we were young. His behavior always intrigued me in a way I never could figure out. Writing it off as the latent analyst in me.

“Doesn’t matter in this stone world.” His tone suggested mild annoyance. “Though you’ve always been a little vain, Hikari.”

“Not always.” I copied his movements, placing my hand on my hip with a smirk. I was comfortable with Senku. Probably a little too much.

“Only for the past two minutes. Hasn’t passed me by that you have clothes on, and yet you couldn’t have been bothered to put any on me. I have half a mind to think you wanted to see me naked. More importantly, it’s chilly.”

“Couldn’t be bothered with clothes. I merely have a use for that photographic memory of yours.”

A deflection, not a denial, which was laughable. He turned promptly, walking away, and I was meant to follow. He was right to a degree that being naked was the least of anyone’s concerns. The only thought on my mind right now was being exposed to potential germs, a few thousand years without vaccines? Have I already breathed in new pathogens? New parasitic life could be under the soles of my feet, and the thought made me shiver. Don’t go down that rabbit hole. I walked forward, leaving behind the evidence of my stone casing behind for later.

“I feel the need to point out, though we both already know there’s more to clothes than covering genitals. I don’t even want to think about the potential viruses and bacteria right now. Please tell me we can get some soap. At the very least, shoes.”

“Oh? Care about that now, ex-biologist? Haven’t forgotten how you shunned science for petty high school bullshit.”

“I’d be insulted if I cared about your opinion.” I fell in step next to him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d theorize you’re projecting right now. Still upset over that three thousand years later? That’s old news, Senku. Tell me about what’s happening now.”

The way we fell into casual conversation was odd. Not even the oddest thing about the situation. We hadn’t spoken since we were in middle school. Excluding the massive gap in time while I was unconscious, it had been several years. Petrified, Senku clarified, filling me in on everything I needed to know. What little he knew was everything right now.

“Assuming the Big Oaf revived as well, he will have a conniption seeing you like that. Camp isn’t far. Utilize nature for the time being. I'll make more clothes. Food has taken priority. Lack of time.”

“I thought we didn’t care about nudity in the stone world. Thought I might work on my tan. Besides, you don’t care, and I only care a little bit.” I commented, holding my thumb and pointer finger an inch apart for him to see.

“I thought you were concerned about bacteria and viruses?”

“Touché.” I began pulling large vines and leaves, wrapping them haphazardly around my body. I’d prefer the nakedness over this. I felt like I stepped into the Tarzan movie with this get-up, and some of them were sticky. I made a face in disgust, fearing the plants on my body were more of a bacterial concern than the air, but didn’t say so out loud.

Senku had grown quiet, and despite the billion other questions on my mind, I remained quiet too. He wouldn’t have answers anyway. My biggest concern right now is finding my sister. Sorry, Mom, you’re second on the priorities list, but knowing they were safely encased in stone was a comfort I needed. It would be fine for them to wait. I’ll confirm their location soon.

“You said you wanted my memory. Is that why you revived me?”

Senku glanced at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I never knew what he was thinking; I always assumed he was concocting experiments in that brain of his. That hadn’t changed.

“Or was I an experiment?” I raised a brow, and the mischievous glint in his eyes, followed by that smirk of his, told me all I needed to know. “I didn’t sign up to be a guinea pig.”

He shrugged off my concern, and the camp came into view. I stopped for a second, taking the view in.

“You did this on your own?” Redundant, but I asked anyway.

“Who else would build it?”

“Right, yeah, it’s just us.” It hit me that he had been alone this entire time. I watched his back as he started to rummage around. For six months, Senku had been alone. Not only after his revival, but he maintained consciousness for several millennia in that darkness. Then again, so had I. Knowing nothing about what was going on. He carried on like it was nothing. Acting unbothered, nothing new there, emotions weren’t something he expressed often, if ever, but he still had them.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel even more dumb as the gravity of the situation set in. He’d been alone, tackling this petrification problem on his own, intended to bring back all of humanity, and I had been worried about makeup and whether or not the girls in school liked my outfit enough. Trading my glasses for contacts and keeping up to date on what was trendy. I had been pretending, hiding, insecure in a way I’d never say out loud. Here, none of that mattered. Survival was the main priority, the only one.

“I can’t see, Senku,” I said, keeping my eyes on him, but he didn’t pause his actions. “I’m a liability in a world like this. You can’t expect me to believe you spent months trying to revive me, experiment or not, purely because I have a photographic memory fully aware of that fact. Your memory is good enough that it might as well be.”

He didn’t answer, so I marched over, crouching down and forcing him to look at me, leaning in close to focus on his face. Looking now, the difference I noticed were the cracks. They hadn’t been there before, a by-product of revival most likely, how he seems thinner now, more pale, older, despite still being fifteen. The contrast from what I knew him to look like was jarring, but then again, most of that imagery was pulled from middle school.

“This was too much of a risk. More so for you than me.”

“Wow, I didn't realize my safety meant that much to you. Should I be concerned about your mental state?”

“Of course it does!” I snapped, shoving his face away. I stood to my feet and placed my hands on my hips, and tapped my pointer finger against my hip in frustration. The argument was mute, there were no takesies-backsies.

“You said food is a priority, so I guess I’ll attempt to be useful. Just so you’re aware, I’m bringing back anything that looks edible, and you’ll be the one to sort through it. And figure out how to at least get me some shoes while you’re at it.”

The amusement on his face only irritated me further, so I was quick to grab a woven basket, sling it over my shoulder, and start my journey into the forest. Adjusting was difficult, but not impossible. Even without the clarity of my vision, it was easy to commit the surrounding area to memory. I watched the animals first and foremost. I smiled at the fact that most didn’t immediately run at the sight of me. Fear didn’t seem to be an issue, and I wondered if I’d be able to get close enough to pet them. A task for another time. They led me to all kinds of plants and berries. I grumbled under my breath the entire time, inspecting everything with squinted eyes before tossing it in the grass basket.

I was sweaty, grimy, and gross in a way I never could have imagined in high school. I wanted soap, and I wanted it bad. I came across several petrified people as I circled the camp. Slowly increasing the radius. I recognized no one, but took the time to inspect and clean off each one anyway. My mind wandered as I worked, creating false stories of who they might have been and what they may have done.

I found a slow-moving stream and set the basket next to me before sinking to my knees. I braced myself against the dirt and rocks, looking down, trying to catch my reflection. I groaned in frustration, letting my head drop, leaning closer only to slip and fall face-first into the water. My body followed landing with a splash. I’d laugh if it hadn’t hurt. My half-assed Tarzan outfit drifted away, and once again I was naked.

The stream was shallow, and something about the situation was the tipping point for me. I sat up coughing, wiping at my face and burning nose, and started to cry. The ugly kind of crying that reminded me of being young, seeking comfort from my mom, only made me cry harder. She wasn’t here to comfort me this time. Senku would just make fun of me, but since he was the only other person I wanted to seek him out. A bad idea, so I stayed there on the bank getting muddy, and I hated it. I hated this so much.

“Faex!” I cursed, throwing a rock further downstream. “Hoc est infernum.”

I was forced to try and clean myself up as best I could in the traitorous stream and marched back to camp, uncaring that my body was on display. To hell with sticky vines, mud, and whatever else I’ll be experiencing in this stone world. My hair was plastered to my face, and Senku didn’t spare me a glance when I dropped the basket next to him.

“I’m going to reiterate just how much of a liability I am. This is hell.”

He looked at me and had to do a double-take before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Laugh it up. I’ll return the favor eventually. Mark my words, Ishigami Senku, you revived me in this hellscape, and there will be a reckoning.”

“Stop being so dramatic. It’s a little bit of mud.”

“This is not about the mud!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t care anymore that I was naked either.

“I can’t do that,” I pointed in the direction of the things he’s built.

“I can’t do anything! I'm not you. I’m not capable. I'm going to end up dead.”

Senku stopped laughing, looking at me more seriously, hearing the shake in my voice.

“You over-dramatic ex-biologist, that is ten billion percent not going to happen because I’m here with you. You’re not alone, and at some point, Taiju will be here as well.”

Senku stood to his feet, pulling something up with him and holding it out to me, keeping his eyes elsewhere. Clothes, and a pair of shoes, and I snatched them from him, earning a sigh in response.

“Ex-microbiologist turned linguist by the way,” I said, wiping my hands after taking a calming breath. He’s right to say I’m being over dramatic. One step at a time. We can make this work. Together. “And I hope to god you haven’t contaminated anything with human waste. There’s food, and now I’m prioritizing soap. Tell me what to do.”

“You’ll have to collect shells. Lots of them, and crush them into a powder. I’ll do the rest.” He waved a hand in my direction, settling himself in front of my basket. I highly doubt Senku has dug latrines. We needed a hygienic system pronto. However, the fact that he’d built a laboratory didn’t slip my observation. I trusted Senku enough that he wouldn’t have risked contamination, but it would have been a secondary concern if he had been struggling to get food.

“Don’t wait up,” I called over my shoulder, only intending to return once I had what we needed. Even if I had to work through the night. I’d rested enough when encased in stone. Senku would bring me back, I’m sure, but he revived me for a reason, and I’m going to see this through.

Finding the coast was easy enough; the terrain layout was similar. Like walking in a neighborhood you’re unfamiliar with, but can still find your way around. Collecting the shells was harder, especially since I left without a way to carry them. I clicked my tongue at the mistake, forced to build a pile of shells. Creating the powder will be the hardest task. Manual labor is not a strong suit of mine. The lack of tools left me to utilize stones, and it didn’t take long for my body to ache. I pressed on, smashing the shells against the flattest rock I could find.

The work was monotonous enough that my mind drifted elsewhere, centering on Senku. He wasn’t being completely honest, and I knew it. He wouldn’t outright say so, but my photographic memory wasn’t enough of a priority to revive me. Even attempt to. He needed me for health reasons. Senku knew a lot about science, but his focus was on chemistry, physics, engineering, and rocket science. Mine had been health and safety, microbes, and medical science. For a time, at least, and had nothing to do with acquiring germophobia. We can’t progress if we’re sick. It was important, overlooked in the modern world, where people weren’t dying of dysentery daily. There was a lack of care because the idea of a global pandemic equivalent to the Black Death wasn’t feasible. Here in the Stone World, it is. I lifted the stone once again, smacking it against the shells once more before pausing.

“Alright, Senku, I’ll handle the unseen threats,” I said aloud. “I’ll bring back modern medicine. The first step is sanitation infrastructure. Starting with basic hygiene.”

The small chunks of shell were easier to grind. This would go faster with a mortar and pestle at least, but I made do with what I had. Uncaring that the sun was getting lower and lower. I kept going. Getting up for more shells, then smashing, then grinding, rinse and repeat. The evening air was cooler, and I let my rock fall between my feet, looking up. The only reason I stopped was because I didn’t want the skin on my hands to break. I didn’t handle fear well, and I sighed, willing myself to get a grip on it. I stared at my hands, now tender from use, and clenched them.

“Oh good, now I have the Black Death on my mind. Fatal germs could be everywhere.” I grumbled to myself, going back to work, hitting the shells a little harder.

“Fantastic. That is ten billion percent not going to happen because I’m here.” I mimicked Senku’s words, doing my best to sound like him.

“Tell that to the cesspools surrounding me.” I spat out, growing annoyed over the situation all over again. Using those emotions to fuel my task made me feel a little better.

“Talking to yourself is a sign of mental deterioration.”

“Faex!” I cried out, falling backward into the sand. Senku looked down at me with a smirk on his face. Perhaps I’ve been meant to serve as a source of entertainment all along.

“Latin?” He questioned, and I didn’t bother to answer.

“Senku!” I glared up at him. “That’s not funny.”

“And your voice is too high-pitched to sound like me, but it was a valiant effort.”

I stood to my feet, dusting myself off.

“You didn’t have to come looking for me.”

“It’s getting dark.”

“Did you get worried? Didn’t realize my safety meant that much to you.”

He didn’t offer a response, and we stood staring at each other again. When I didn’t back down, he sighed, offering me an empty basket.

“Eating and sleeping are as important as this.”

“You think I can sleep? My mind isn’t going to rest, so I might as well keep working.” I sat back down and stubbornly continued my work.

“I didn’t walk all the way here to go back to camp alone. This can wait until morning.”

I ignored him, crushing more shells until he put his hands in my way and tossed what little I had broken down in the basket, earning another glare from me.

“I’ll go to camp, but I’m not sleeping until this is done. Consider it an unwilling compromise.”

This time, he ignored me as he headed back toward camp. I had half a mind to let him disappear into the dark, but looking out towards the forest was like looking into a wall of dark blue, with black splotches everywhere. New fear unlocked, and I rushed forward before Senku entered the treeline.

“Now I really can’t see.” I reached for his shirt, and he slowed his pace. Luckily, camp wasn’t far, but we walked in silence, with Senku occasionally needing to help me maneuver the terrain.

“I hope my revival was worth it.”

“I’m sure of it ten billion percent. I can make your glasses eventually.”

Chapter Text

There was a large fire at camp casting eerie shadows along the ground. Unknowingly, I had held onto Senku’s shirt until I was forced to let go. I balled up my skirt, taking a seat, feeling uneasy out of nowhere. Typical, I thought bitterly. I’m over three thousand years old, technically, and I’m still afraid of the dark. It’s a wonder Senku even puts up with my nonsense. I don’t even want to put up with my nonsense.

He handed me a stick with roasted mushrooms with a tired flair. His eyes narrowed toward the dark, sending a shiver up my spine. Please, God, tell me he’s not watching something hunt us from the inky black. I started to eat after earning a sideways glance, surprised it didn’t taste horrible. He had made salt already. I made note that salt seemed to be a priority over a sanitation system, but once again didn’t comment on my observation out loud.

There was a distant rumble. I looked upward despite knowing I wouldn’t be able to see.

“The storm is going to pass over. We shouldn’t get any rain.”

“Are you sure about that, Mr. Absolute Certainty?” I asked, feeling faint droplets hit my cheek. I brushed them off with a raised brow.

“Well, I never said I was a meteorologist. I’m not always accurate.”

“Nine billion percent of the time.”

“Oh? Was that a compliment I heard?”

“Don’t push it, Ishigami,” I muttered with an eye roll.

“But I guess this means you win. I’ll be sleeping after all.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but I wasn’t a fan of it either. The sounds that came after the sun disappeared had a different energy compared to the peace of the day. I do not have a fear of the dark, I told myself, but shifted my body to be closer to Senku anyway.

“What are you doing?”

“Necne moriaris si benigna sis?” I scoffed. It wouldn’t kill him to just be nice. I’d sooner throw myself from a cliff than ask him outright.

“Again with the Latin. Am I supposed to just know what that dusty incantation is? And since when are you fluent? Latin isn’t in the playbook for vanity vultures.”

I cracked a smile. I’d be adding vanity vulture to my ever-growing vocabulary.

“I’m fluent in many languages, Senku. Consider me a polyglot. I’m no mere girl crowned in lip gloss.” I touched the bridge of my nose out of habit and clicked my tongue out of annoyance. Three years of contacts, and I was still adjusting the ghost of a frame on my face. “Once you understand the principle behind language, it’s all pattern recognition and variables.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing about the words that left your mouth.”

“Testing a theory,” I replied dryly, keeping my eyes forward. “Nothing of concern to you.”

Blue hour was coming to an end, and I shifted closer, half expecting Senku to double the distance. Mercy was on my side. I’d conquer the dark for sure. It was the least of my concerns in this Stone World.

“Oh? I’m intrigued.”

“How did you manage being alone?” I asked him, changing the subject. I’d petrify myself before telling him of my fears. Though I’m sure Senku was aware of my phobias. They existed long before my revival. I guess that’s what happens when you live next door to the child genius. Very spiderman-esque the way our windows were across from each other. Observant bastard.

“I stayed busy. There is a lot that needs to be done if I’m going to bring back humanity.”

“Think we can do that before we kick it?” I pulled another mushroom from the stick, uncaring that it burnt my fingers. I was starving and unaware until I took my first bite.

“Ten billion percent.”

When it started to rain a little harder, we packed everything away and climbed into the hut. I’d find our situation cool if not for the looming dread hovering like a cape. Senku was quick to lie down, turning his back to me, and I sighed through my nose, turning away from him, using my arm as a pillow. Senku had made pelts, but I suddenly very much missed my memory foam mattress. The storm blew in, growing heavier, louder, and, yup, like clockwork, the thunder shook the hut.

I tensed at the loud crack, and did my best to ignore how the wind threatened our shelter. I tossed and turned, bumping into Senku, who groaned in frustration. Curse my fears, curse this Stone World.

“Ignore it,” Senku grumbled, his body still turned away. “We need to rest.”

“Well, I can’t.” I sat up, rubbing my face. He opened one eye, looking at me.

“I’m sorry,” I offered, not feeling shame per se, but out of understanding. This would be annoying to me if the shoe were on the other foot. Though Senku remained indifferent to my plight. Something I thought I was used to, but clearly wasn’t, based on my body’s response.

“Apology not accepted. Go to sleep.” He shifted away from me, and the sight dug deeper than I wanted to admit. The lack of comfort about the situation overall. Not just now, but I had been revived for less than twenty-four hours. Thrust into a world surrounded by unseen threats, literally and figuratively.

“I forgot how insufferable you can be.” My voice held a bite to it.

“I forgot how dramatic you are. Our suffering is mutual.” He clipped back, same tone, same indifference, and I clenched my fists. More so out of embarrassment than anything else.

“You’re an ass.” I shot back at him with a glare.

“Scaredy cat.” He huffed. A childish jab, and I was quick to retort.

“Nerd.” I shoved his shoulder, growing irritated.

“You have the entire dictionary stored in your brain. You can even speak several languages at that, and that’s your best?” He turned toward me, unaffected by the argument I started, and it irritated me even more.

“You want better?” I huffed a laugh, “Alright, pedant, infohoarder, datawraith, neurotweak, mechanist, schemophile, autodidact, obfuscator, paralogist with a god complex. All descriptors.” I sat up, counting the words on my hand. I had plenty more at my disposal. “Shall I keep going, or do you need time to define them all?”

“Wow. I’m almost impressed. You strung together a list of insults like it was a scientific discovery. Datawraith? Infohoarder? Even added your own spin with those. Mechanist? I’ll take that. Machines are efficient. Emotions are inefficient. Case in point.” He pointed at me, and I bristled. There he goes again.

“As for being an autodidact, that's a compliment, and I’ll add it to my resume right next to ‘saved humanity.’ You can consider your literary war a loss because unless you have a fusion reactor hidden up your sleeve, we’re done here.”

“You know, for someone who taught himself everything, you’re bad at listening. I just woke up to a world that’s been turned into a graveyard, Senku! Everyone I knew is gone. My sister is missing. Civilization is rubble. And now I’m stuck in a hut with the human encyclopedia who thinks he’s too rational to act human! Well, I do, and I’m not going to apologize for any of it. You on the other hand are a goddamn machine.”

The sting of his words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. An intellectual battle with Senku always resulted in my cheeks burning from second-hand embarrassment. We argued a lot, constantly, actually. It’s a wonder we were ever really friends, but Byakuya wasn’t here to mediate this time. Usually, those moments resulted in Senku’s forced apology, and me standing smug behind Byakuya. Cats and dogs are what we are.

The storm had gotten worse, our little argument was enough of a distraction for me not to notice, but I was aware now. The sky sounded like it was splitting above, and I sucked in a breath bringing my legs closer to my chest as if that would change the situation.

“I am not a machine.” His voice was lower now. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I hurt his feelings. Not possible, I was sure of it, but my mind was too busy with checking every wall, every corner, hugging myself tighter.

“I don’t know what to do when someone’s scared.”

“I am not scared.” I glared in his direction, but my body language was giving me away.

“I reinforced the roof, calculated grounding paths for the hut, and kept this place away from the river. That’s what I can do. That’s what I did do.”

”If that’s your way of comforting me, consider your experiment a failure.” I lay back down intending to attempt to go to sleep, but this storm had other plans. The hut lit up with a white-blue hue, and I shrieked, fully believing the ground had been struck, sitting bolt upright once again. I half expected a fire to start. I heard Senku move, and tensed when he set his pelt over me.

“I’ll conduct a new one then. Science is all about trial and error.” Then awkwardly, stiffly, Senku sat beside me. Not just beside me. Pressed beside me. Shoulder to shoulder. He looked like he’d placed himself there for the sole purpose of shielding me from the weather. His spine was straight. His arms were stiff. His entire body radiating I do not know what I’m doing.

“A proximity-based comfort hypothesis,” he said dryly. I knew for a fact he was hating this. I stared at him like he’d just short-circuited. This was…even more odd. Had his petrified body been knocked around a little too much?

“Are you…offering to cuddle?” I asked dumbly. The storm was forgotten once again, even as the rain and wind continued their assault.

”Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, clearly already regretting every choice that led him to this moment.

”Touch is supposed to reduce cortisol levels. Effective at easing stress. We need sleep, and you are going to keep me awake at this rate. I switched up the variables.”

What he did next left me speechless. Robotically, Senku draped his arm over my shoulders. Hovered is more like it, with the kind of awkward hesitation that would go along with handling a live wire staring straight ahead. Like eye contact would make him combust. I gawked at him, genuinely awestruck. Never in my life had Senku willingly offered physical comfort or a helping hand. Don’t you dare laugh, I told myself. Laugh, and he will leave you to your own devices.

I looked at him, really looked, and the absurdity of it cracked through my fear. Senku Ishigami, science messiah, cuddling someone like it was a lab test. I took a breath, settling into his side, knowing we couldn’t sleep upright like this. His entire body tensed at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. It was a miracle we were even sitting like this at all. So, I took the liberty of aiding this cuddle experiment when he didn’t have a follow-up.

“You’re bad at this,” I sighed, pulling him down with me as I attempted and failed to get comfortable.

“I know,” he replied, too honest for his own good. He didn’t shy away from me, and maybe I’ve taken a little too much liberty now that his arm had turned into a makeshift pillow, and my face was pressed into the crook of his neck. I might be able to sleep now, but I didn’t need to conduct an experiment to know he might not. Though I’m positive the moment I fall asleep, he’ll disappear on me.

”I didn’t mean what I said.” I kept my hands curled close to my chest, afraid to push too far. The last thing I needed right now was for him to shun me. This was enough, and I’d forever be grateful to him. For more than just this, but putting up with me when we were kids as well. Driven by fear, layers of emotions, and always overly dramatic. I envied Senku’s ability to remain calm. The fact I’d called him a machine swirled around in my mind. He did, in fact, act human. Sometimes even more than me.

He was human, he was kind, humble, and right now he was putting himself out of his comfort zone to make me feel better. Something I needed, and I felt like an ass.

”I’m sorry,” I murmured, voice smaller than I meant it to be. “For earlier. For the names. I didn’t mean most of them.”

“Only most?”

“The god complex one still stands,” I teased softly.

“But I didn’t mean to start a fight. I don’t want to argue. This is a lot…for me, and you handle emotions better. Always have.” I murmured, but he heard me.

Senku was quiet for a long time. Going so far as to legitimately hold me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I was afraid to even breathe. It’s because it’s cold, surely.

Then, almost inaudibly, he finally spoke up, “For a first attempt, this experiment shows promising results. Your pulse is steadying, breathing even, and success is imminent, ten billion percent.”

“You’re insufferable,” I mumbled, and he laughed, the feeling reverberating in his chest, and that is when my face started to heat.

“And you’re a drama queen. We’re safe. About ninety-three point two percent.”

“Not helping.”

The storm raged outside, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside my head. I was pressed against Senku’s chest, his arm around me like it was nothing. The warmth of him seeped into my skin, the rhythmic beat of his heart almost hypnotic against my ear. I let out a breath as I shifted, realizing with a jolt how close we were. I’d hugged him in the past, usually earning a strong arm in response, but now?

Okay. No. This wasn’t normal.

Senku didn’t do physical contact. Not like this. The last time I checked, he didn’t even seem to tolerate shaking hands, much less being this…close. I’m not sure that I like it, but I don’t hate it either.

”Senku?” I whispered, not sure what kind of question I was asking. “Is this…is this actually okay with you? You don’t…” I trailed off, unsure how to word it. I wasn’t sure if I was asking because I was uncomfortable or because I was too comfortable.

”Don’t what?” He didn’t sound surprised, but mildly distracted, as if my voice barely registered in his brain. There was something about the way his voice softened when he said it that made me feel a little less foolish.

“You don’t… usually do physical contact,” I said cautiously, trying to play it cool. “I assumed you’d… I don’t know, be weirded out by this. Just… Are you?”

There was a beat of silence.

”You’re overthinking it and making it weird.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was a little teasing, which only made me more unsure of myself.

“I, well, you…” I trailed off again, flustered, but he interrupted.

“I don't care for unnecessary contact. But I’m sure as hell not suffering through the night watching you cower in the corner.”

”I was not—” I started to shoot off, but he cut me off.

“Just sleep,” he said simply. “You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be.”

The words were blunt, but there was a certain gentleness in them that made it harder to push back. The storm raged on, but inside, we were quiet and warm.

I thought about arguing, about finding some clever retort wanting the last word, but the weight of his arm around me, the steady rhythm of his breathing, had me forgetting all of that. So, instead of trying to make sense of the situation, I let myself fall asleep, the storm outside quieter than it had been all night.

“Thank you,” I said, and if I took advantage of the situation, cuddling closer, well, who could blame me? And the last thing I heard before drifting off was Senku’s steady voice, low in the dark.

“It's fine. Damn scaredy-cat.”

Chapter Text

I woke up warm and at peace.

That was my first clue something was off. The Stone World had not been warm, let alone comforting or peaceful. It was cold and damp and unforgiving. That fact was solidified by last night's storm. A roaring God that had seemingly ripped the sky apart with rain ready to drown me, and wind howling threats of destruction.

But right now?

I was warm.

Safe.

Suspiciously…soft.

The second clue was the smell. Not bad. Just… very distinctly Senku. A mix of iron and ash, dried plants, and that strange mineral tang that followed him everywhere like static cling. Like science had a scent, and he absorbed it into his skin. Less chemical than what I was used to and more earthy, but Senku all the same.

The third clue was the arm slung across my waist. Loose, comfortable, and present. I didn’t dare open my eyes. The haze of sleep slowly being replaced by clarity.

I froze.

Not metaphorically. I mean full-on statue mode. Like I’d been re-petrified right there under the pelt.

Because Senku Ishigami, Science Boy, King of No Touching, God of Personal Space, was still asleep, mouth slightly parted, his forehead resting on the crown of my head like I wasn’t his worst idea in cuddle-based experimental design. His heart beat under a trapped palm, and I couldn’t make heads or tails of how we got here. He’d held me, and not just until I had fallen asleep like I had anticipated, but through the night.

Senku Ishigami held me.

I didn’t mean to smile. Not really. But it snuck in anyway. Something soft and barely there, curling at the edges of my lips. And then the memory of everything I’d said the night before hit me like another thunderclap.

And we were, oh hell.

We were intertwined. Limbs overlapping, our legs a tangled mess under the pelt that had slipped from our bodies. I didn’t know how it had happened. Maybe I’d rolled. Maybe he had. Maybe the wind had shoved us together like two reluctant action figures. I didn’t care.

There was one blaring thought in my mind going off like an alarm. I was wrapped around a man who considered “hugging” a foreign concept. I tried to shift, moving slowly, starting with one of my legs.
Bad idea.

His body shifted, breathing remaining the same, hopefully deep in REM. His body closer somehow.
I stopped breathing momentarily.

“Senku?” I breathed his name, terrified of getting an answer. To my relief, there wasn’t one. It was a struggle not to panic, but I repeated ‘he’s asleep’ in my head like a mantra. Just take it slow.
Slowly, I shifted, trying to slip out from under his arm without waking him. I tried not to move rashly, keeping my movements methodical and smooth. I was almost clear. So close.

But then his arm tightened around my waist.

My breath caught in my throat. What the hell?

I stilled, not daring to so much as let out a breath. His breathing was still steady, deep, sending a relief throughout my system. I did not want to have a post awakening discussion. The pre-sleep discussion was more than enough. His movements were purely reflex, surely. So, I shifted again, trying to slide my legs free from his. I was almost there.

Then, once more, he pulled me closer. I could feel the warmth of his chest against my face, and it was starting to get harder to ignore the pressure against me.

Was he pretending to sleep?

I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to assume. Even if this was a joke, I doubted it would play out like this. Maybe it was a coincidence. No way, the sun wasn’t even up, and if Senku was awake he’d be teasing me right now. Or, feigning indifference, acting unbothered, amused by my discomfort. Nothing bothered Senku, and it was a relief knowing this was nothing more than what he had said last night. A way to lower my cortisol. A cuddle experiment for lack of better words. Yup, that made it easy. An experiment gone slightly awry.

I tried again holding my breath, and this time Senku made a noise shifting and rolling over. Success! I cheered inside, scooting my body far away from the atrocity I awoke to. Going back to sleep was out of the question. My gaze lingered on his sleeping face for a moment longer silently thanking him once more before climbing down. Careful not to slip on the slick wood. The ground was soft under my feet, squishing underneath. I scrunched my face in distaste, remaining grateful that Senku bothered to make me shoes and clothes.

“Yeah, I am not built for this. O inferi,” I grumbled deciding since he hadn’t woken up I could do as I pleased for the time being. I’d continue my endeavor to make powder from shells, calcium carbonate, when the sun was a little higher.

“See Senku, I know things too.” But that was just my photographic memory coming into play. There was a faint glow from the sun whispering its rays across the tops of the trees. Not quite morning, but a break from the shadows of the night. Enough light to guide me between the trunks, but I still treaded carefully. The search for my sister began. Starting with the clearing I’d been revived in. She couldn’t have gone far, right? My hope was that she had been protected by tree roots. Maybe even buried in the ground. I hoped silently, despite how scary the idea was. It would be much harder to locate her even if it meant she was safe.

I came across statue after statue once again creating false stories to ease my mind. Sparing the broken ones a glance, swallowing a lump at the sight, and hating how relieved I was when I didn’t recognize them. However, they were still a person. A sibling, parent, child, friend, a spouse even. Affected by something Senku couldn’t understand yet. The petrification beam. Scarier than the Black Death if I thought about it too much.

“Shlama amukhun,” I whispered to each one, brushing aside the remnants of moss and debris. By now the forest floor was illuminated too, and I sat down in the remains of my stone prison putting my face in my hands.

“Where are you?” I whispered to the open air. “I’m failing at my eldest sibling's duties. I’ve been failing. Sora, forgive me.”

I pictured her chubby little face, blonde curls bouncing as she skipped. Her big blue eyes staring up at me in awe. I could almost hear her voice, and my heart lurched painfully in my chest.

“Hikari! Watch this!”

I smiled, touching my lips to keep them from trembling, remembering how she wanted to show me her back flip. Something new she’d learned in her gymnastics class. We were eight years apart, so she was seven. Sora loved to point out that she was going to be eight in two weeks. A true big girl, almost to the double digits. Proud, innocent, and reverent of her big sister. Though I never once felt worthy of the musings of a seven-year-old. Especially now remembering her creeping into my room while I did my make up, plucking eyebrows, and checking every angle of my face.

“Hikari, come outside and play with me.”

“I’m busy, Sora. Go bother someone else.”

“You’re no better than that weirdo next door!”

She slammed the door with a huff, and I carried on like nothing had happened.

“I’m the shittiest sister known to sisterhood,” I spoke into nothingness, brushing stray tears from my cheek with the back of my hand.

There was a crackle of sticks, and my head snapped over to see a deer grazing lazily. It lifted its head, staring at me, and then faced forward. Its gaze lingered, so I followed its line of sight.

A petrified hand stuck out of the ground, and I rushed toward it. The ground was soft enough from the rain I was digging in with my bare hands. Uncaring for germs, or the fact my nails were getting broken, fingertips splitting, I dug furiously. Grabbing a sharp stone to aid me. Slowly revealing a small arm, a shoulder, and there she was. Half her face now out of the dirt, and I renewed my efforts struggling to dig her out.

“I found you,” I whispered, relieved, wrapping my arms around her neck. “Thank god.”

I kept working despite the sweat and grime until I could wrap my arms around her waist, shifting her to loosen the dirt. Her body broke free, and I pulled her up to level ground. She was heavy, too heavy for me to stand her up, but I could see her fully now. Her arms out at her sides from landing, part victory pose, part instinctive balance. Her face beaming in pride. Her eyes had been closed when the green light appeared, her back to it, and I had rushed forward protectively, making it to her side with her completely unaware of what was going on. The moment was left frozen in time.

“I’m going to bring you back. Not right now, it’s not safe for you. Wait a little longer, okay?” I brushed a finger against her cheek and stood up.

“You’ve surpassed double digits, and skipped all the way to four digits. You can consider yourself a big girl now.” I’d laugh if my throat didn’t grow tight. My saving grace was knowing where she was. I could see she was safe and fully intact, now all I had to do was start phase one. Acquire soap. Senku would handle the rest. Reviving everyone was way beyond my capabilities, and I just had to have faith it was within his.

I headed in the direction of camp until how I woke up made me veer in the direction of the coast. I wasn’t ready to face Senku, who would undoubtedly be awake by now. If he needed me badly enough he could come find me.

I found the same traitorous stream I had before, and followed along the edge. Twice as careful this time, so I didn’t fall in. It grew wider farther down, and I stopped to admire the view. The brightening morning sun shone through the canopy of trees, and it sparkled against the water. It didn’t look so traitorous now. I knelt lower, letting my fingers trail over the edge, and remembered how dirty they are. I washed them with a sigh shoving down the blatant reminder that the open wounds of my fingertips were now a bacterial concern.

“Scaredy cat,” I mumbled to myself. It was true though, as much as I hated it. Beneath my fingers in the water were dark shiny blurs, like black glass. I picked up a large chunk with sharp edges. I’d seen this before. Obsidian. I didn’t have pockets to put it in. Didn’t know for sure if it was important, but kept it in my fist anyway, standing on my feet.

I remembered offhand that Senku had told me that obsidian naturally fractures in conchoidal patterns. As I walked past a large set of boulders I double backed looking from the obsidian to the stone in front of me. I started carving. Slowly, methodically, and occasionally breaking the edges, but over time, the letters began to appear. Not massive, but large enough for my poor eyesight to read even when I stepped back. My fingers were cramping and growing incredibly sore. I managed to etch the first word onto the surface. I pressed on, unaware of how much time was going by.

The sound of the forest circled me, the wind whispering secrets, and the only disruption was the scraping of obsidian against rock. Granite, hopefully, it would last longer, but I had no way of knowing. I huffed a laugh knowing Senku would. I’d seen the Mohs scale, but that didn’t mean I understood it perfectly. He would also tell me I’m wasting precious time. Right now? I didn’t care. I traced a finger over the first word smiling to myself proudly.

“Viximus,” I said out loud. “Viximus et vivimus.”

We have lived, and we will live.

I sighed, stretching my fingers, wishing I were ambidextrous. My left hand is relatively useless right now. A stabling force once I started to carve the rest, but useless all the same. The shadows of the trees slowly shifted over me, but gauging time was a Senku thing. Not a me thing. This? This was me. Heart emoticon underneath to top it off.

“That is oddly hilarious.” I tilted my head to look at the bird on my right. “Only human who can read, speak, and write Latin? Not so hilarious.”

At least Senku would understand the emoticon. I let the obsidian fall to the ground and decided to head back to camp after all. Would I tell him of my carving? Absolutely not. He’s made fun of me enough already.

“Where have you been? We have work to do.” Senku spoke clearly, annoyed.

“Haven’t forgotten,” I spoke with a sigh. “Consider my absence a slight deviation from my main priority.”

“Guess you should be grateful then that the paralogist with a god-complex hasn’t.” He pushed something in my direction. In a surprisingly well made pot was a mixture of…something. Off white, bubbly, and I raised an eyebrow looking from the contents to him.

“Am I supposed to know what this is?”

“What you’re looking at is an amphiphilic surfactant synthesized through high-alkaline hydrolysis. You wanted soap. I made you soap.”

“Wait, really?! Te nunc osculari possum! Gimme.” I reached forward, but he held it away from me.

“Talking about animals now? Possums aren’t native.” I attempted and failed to pull it from his grasp.

“Hands off! It needs to cure. This is a process, not a miracle. Unless you want to risk burns and dry skin.”

“So like for a day or two?” I asked with a pout stepping back.

“Try a week or two.”

I clicked my tongue distastefully.

“I will wait impatiently. Not that I have a choice in the matter. So now what?” I asked with a sigh. Lifting my hand toward my face only to drop it to my hip. Old habits do in fact die hard.

“I’ll be working on revival experiments. You collect resources and food.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve been doing this for months, I suppose I can take over. I will fail miserably, I’m sure.”

“Don’t fall in the water this time.”

“I was trying to look at my reflection!” I said defensively.

“Vain.” He pointed at me.

“Uncultured.” I shot back.

“Pedantic.” His tone suggested boredom. I raised a brow, not even close to being impressed.

“Solipsist.”

“Narcissist.”

“The lack of accuracy with that has me suspicious that you don’t even know what that means, but I’ll play ball. Reductionist.”

“Pretentious.”

“That’s a big word for you. Again, inaccurate. Philistine.” I offered, waiting with a smirk for him to continue.

“You want accurate? You’re a walking entropy increase. A dead-end hypothesis. A defective catalytic agent. A zero-point energy system.” He huffed a laugh, standing up, planting a hand on his hip. “A non-stop chemical reaction with no equilibrium. A statistical outlier with no logical progression. I’d call you a quantum anomaly, but even uncertainty has its limits. Shall I go on, or do you need time to think about those?”

“At least I don’t have the intellectual inertia of a black hole, sucking the fun out of everything. Leave it to you to turn playful banter into a vacuum sealed thought experiment. Joyless, sterile, and ten billion percent devoid of charm. Gaudii interemptor,” I added in a sharp breath turning away with a basket in hand.

“Nothing says ‘I lost’ like dragging a dead language into the fray. Ten billion percent unnecessary.”

He was smug, and I was irritated. Insufferable. I cursed my predicament the entire time I tossed something that looked edible in the basket muttering in what Senku has dubbed dusty incantations.

Growing bored I grabbed a stick methodically writing down the Greek alphabet. Random symbols in the dirt to anyone else, but to me? This spoke of the ancients, something lost and forgotten. Of people and culture that I alone knew of. I could hear voices in these symbols. Whispers of humanity even the modern world pushed aside. Philosophers, poets, mathematicians even, breathed life into these symbols. Each one carrying the weight and pulse of history.

I started with A, alpha, simple yet holding the weight of the beginnings of language. Connection and beauty. Then B, beta, these symbols were used in the modern world too, but not commonly. Military tainted it, took away the beauty, science twisted it, and global leadership spat it out like a cherry pit.

“It’s a tragedy, really, Senku. Your dismissal of what you deem unnecessary. The Greeks wrote the foundations of philosophy, science, and art in these very letters. And yet you can’t even look at them without thinking it’s a waste of time. Bordering blatant disrespect. Even your precious science was influenced by language. Greek and Latin go hand in hand with Isaac and Galileo, but you don’t care for that now do you?”

I sighed adding depth to the symbols despite knowing they would disappear and become illegible in no time. I stood to my feet and continued my task, knowing I’d deviated plenty for today. And if I went around carving symbols into trees the only one who’d see them would be the cornerstone of illiteracy himself. An affront to language, breathing proof that letters can die.

“Not on my watch,” I muttered, tossing a rock I acquired into the bushes. “Damn autodidact.”

I foraged for as long as I possibly could before making my way back. Senku was in his laboratory doing who knows what, and I dropped the basket in the doorway. Inside were petrified sparrows. Pots and primitive tools were organized in the chaotic way that breathed Senku.

“Promise me something,” I stated, and he didn’t even spare me a glance. “At least look at me. I’m being serious.”

That got his attention, and he put a hand on his hip giving me an incredulous look.

“You can go on about how things will ten billion percent be okay, but you don’t know that. I know better than most how smart you are—”

“Is this a roundabout way to point out you don’t think I can do this?” He sighed diverting his attention again.

“I have no doubt you can. That was never even a thought.” I paused my words, chewing on them, but pressed on. “I found Sora, and someone has to look after her if I’m not here anymore. Don’t give me a quick one-liner about being ten billion percent sure I’ll be here. So promise me you will look after her if I can’t. Swear it.”

“Should I bleed over an altar while I’m at it?”

“If a blood oath has meaning to you, then, yes.”

“You over-dramatic ex-biologist. I’m not bleeding for you. I plan on saving everyone. You, your sister, Taiju, Yuzuriha, and everyone else. I don’t need to make you a promise. Everyone is going to live. All seven billion of us.”

I didn’t have a follow-up. I leaned against the frame, closing my eyes, and crossing my arms over my chest.

“It still doesn’t entirely make sense to me why you revived me in the first place. Taiju or Yuzuriha, absolutely. Me? I’ve been a horrible sister, an even shittier friend, and an annoying over dramatic neighbor coupled with layers of emotions and phobias galore.”

“I think three thousand years of petrification is enough of a prison sentence for those transgressions don’t you think?”

“Only if those against whom I have transgressed have forgiven me.”

“Is saying ‘if only the ones I’ve hurt forgive me’ difficult for you?”

“No. My vernacular varies. Am I forgiven? Is that plain enough for you?”

“For what?” Maybe this was his way of adding to my suffering. Maybe he didn’t know, or care and I concocted a problem in my mind. I clicked my tongue looking out toward the treetops.

“For being stupid. Science used to be our thing, but then I left you to your own devices. Chased popularity like it was an Olympic medal. I wanted high school to be different. Not that I got to live it out. You didn’t care when people talked, or bullied us but I did. It was childish. Do I need to go on?”

“That’s old news, Hikari. Nothing of importance now.”

“Did it bother you?” I asked quietly, not bothering to look in his direction. “That I walked away?”

“Do you know me at all?” He countered. “If you think I sat around brooding or crying you need your head checked.”

“That’s not what I asked. I’m not even sure you can cry. I’ve never seen it, and we’ve lived next door to each other since you were two.”

“I was just glad I didn’t have to hear your whiny voice anymore. Always afraid we’d catch on fire or something.”

“How many rockets did you blow up? Your bedroom was across from mine, separated by several feet of open air. I’d hear explosions in there too, ya know. My fear was valid.”

“And your presence was greatly missed, I assure you.” His words said one thing, but his tone was dripping in sarcasm.

“But you still showed up for dinner on Tuesdays like clockwork.”

“Because it would have offended your mother if I didn’t.”

“So you do have standards. I suppose I can say this now. It’s been long enough, but please tell me I’m not the only one who noticed mom had the hots for Byakuya. It was beyond obvious.”

“Was it?”

“Anyone with eyes could see that.” I continued, but the air seemed to shift, so I glanced at him.

Something about his eyes was different now. Something new, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that imagery burned into my mind. Oh.

Oh.

“It did bother me,” Senku said after a beat of silence. “Like I said, I’m not a machine. Now if you’re done prattling, help me with this.”

Chapter Text

“Non ad hoc apta sum,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead and stretching my back. This is not and never will be my thing. Night fell after a long day of watching Senku work on testing out revival fluid on the petrified birds while I slaved away on survival necessities. Food was cooking, another round of mushrooms, greens, and roots. Smoke was filling my nose, and it was far from pleasant.

Sunset had come and gone, and it was a struggle for me to see what I was doing even in the firelight. Chopping wood had started with massive inaccuracies, but relying on committing my form to memory had promising results. I deserve a pat on the back for my efforts. I could hear Senku tinkering away in that laboratory, and sighed, lifting the axe once more before bringing it down. I missed.

“I can’t understand those dusty incantations.”

“You’re not meant to,” I said sweetly, almost sing-songing my response, taking another swing, telling myself to finish this pile at least. I was forced to ignore the ever-growing aches and pains. How long would it take for my body to get used to this? I had splinters now on top of the split skin on my fingertips.

“Why Latin?”

It was rare for Senku to ask questions, so I paused, unanimously deciding my work was done for the day. The small pile left behind be damned. I’d finish tomorrow and start another one. I prayed internally for Taiju and his perseverance to come running out of the bushes, exaggerated yelling and all. I could almost see him now.

I stepped toward the open doorway, choosing to indulge his question without snark and sass, taking a moment to digest my thoughts. I used the primitive stone axe Senku helped me put together as a crutch. I insisted I do it myself, letting him teach me the art of creating primitive stone tools. But alas, I couldn’t create anything on his level. I had one hell of a time. I was proud of my janky little creation though.

“Latin is buried in everything from medicine, to law, to philosophy, and religion. I don’t really care for that part though. Religion, I mean. Latin at one point was a staple for many things, science even,” I added as an afterthought, standing upright and lazily swinging the axe.

“Latin is a skeleton key to centuries of human thought. A root system, and I wanted to dig into the etymological dirt where it all began. It’s a legacy, a language, that paradoxically connects people through time rather than space. Ancient Greek, Sanskrit, Hebrew, Coptic, assuming you know what that is. I won’t bother to explain. They’re all cornerstones to something great, but Latin? Latin is the science of language. A foundation.”

“Hmm.” Senku nodded, and I deadpanned at the response, stepping closer, letting the axe rest against the door frame, only for it to hit the ground with a dull thud.

“That was brilliant. I even chose verbiage that would relate to you, and all I get is a ‘hmm’? Absurd.” My words perpetuate a sardonic tone. Leave it to Senku to take what could be a contemplative, debatable conversation and dull it. There was a time I sat in on seminars, tutored university students, but this was purely small talk in moments like those.

“I’m not the introspective type. I mince words for straightforward understanding. You peacock them for show.” His eyes never left his work, his hands meticulous, and I couldn’t help the small smile on my face at the sight.

“Peacock!?” I brought a hand to my chest in barely contained offense. The audacity. “That’s what you think I’m doing!?”

“You turn speech into a performance. I prefer a more efficient approach. Conveying core information in a short amount of time. You could have stated you have an interest in dead languages.”

“You can be efficient and evocative.” I narrowed my eyes. He still hadn’t so much as glanced at me. Based on his features, he was struggling to see too at this point. Sharp eyes, furrowed brows, a set frown unfitting for his face. I watched him push away from the table and fail to light a torch. I crossed my arms over my chest, not quite finished. “Being concise shouldn’t call for the removal of grace.”

“Maybe,” he said monotonously, offering a glance in my direction, unable to get it lit. “But I’d rather split atoms than hairs.”

“And yet,” I stepped inside, walking around the table so I was in front of him. When it came to Latin, language in general, I could deliver a dissertation worthy of scholarly praise. Senku could give a rat's ass about any of it, but I offered to continue anyway. “You listen, cataloguing every word, stockpiling the phrases. So, which is it then? Are you allergic to poetic prose, or harboring it like chemical compounds?”

He paused with a sigh, and I almost jumped at the small victory. I had him thinking. He set the bird down, placing his hands on the table, meeting my gaze.

“Language is data.” He said flatly, giving me a noncommittal look.

“And Latin, a formula,” I smirked, feeling my win on the horizon. “Don’t be so surprised. You’re studying bones, and I’m finding meaning in the marrow. It’s all the same.”

“It’s still peacocking.”

“Impetias! Sacrilegium! I will end you!” Making a point to look him dead in the eye, slapping a hand on the table. And he actually chuckled, straightening up and waving me off, leaving his experiments for tomorrow.

“Go ahead and initiate a trial phase, ex-biologist. You won’t get very far.” He sat in front of the fire, and I had an urge to kick him. Tempting, very tempting.

“Microbiologist!” I corrected with a huff, scuffing my shoe on the ground. Even when I win, I lose.

“Turned linguist,” I mumbled unnecessarily, following his steps.

I begrudgingly sat down, choosing to keep two body spaces between us this time. I am hell bent on ignoring what looked like beasts in the tree line. The large fire Senku started was directly to blame for the twisting shapes sprawling out before me.

“Sanskrit, huh?” He didn’t look at me, and my raised brow went unnoticed. Is he full of questions, or just filling silence? It was neither here nor there for me. I didn’t mind the poking and prodding, silently encouraged it even. I didn’t mind the dismissal of my interests either, maybe a little bit, but he was listening. And that mattered to me.

“Is that supposed to be a question or a statement?”

He didn’t answer, and I rolled my eyes, following suit and began to eat, pulling a stick away from the flames. I spun it between my fingers just to have something to do.

“I can read it, write it, but never got around to learning pronunciation. Probably won’t in this lifetime.”

“Clear and concise. Look at that, you’re learning!”

“As I’ve said, my vernacular changes. Alternatively, I’m limiting speech to make it digestible.”

“Coptic?” This time, I didn’t immediately raise my hackles at the bored tone.

“The final stage of ancient Egyptian. Written in an adapted Greek alphabet with Demotic signs added in. It’s a bridge between ancient Egyptian and early Christian texts. A rare surviving language preserved through religious use. I’d say it’s used even today, but it’s been several millennia since a church service was held. Yet another language I can’t speak, but I have no use for sermons. Hebrew falls in the same category.”

“Did hieroglyphics get lost in the mix?”

“If you think you can stump me, you’re sorely mistaken. Hieroglyphics are more like a code. Art, poetry, and theology all tucked away in a box wrapped in a big fluffy bow. I can use it if I want to.”

“Not going to boast a deeper meaning?” It sounded like a challenge, a buzzer, so I took off full sprint with a smile on my face.

“You think of birds and beetles, but that is just a reduction of the scribes who breathed meaning into those symbols.” I pulled the rest of the food off the stick, placing it in my lap. My germophobia took a back seat for the moment. I used the now-empty stick to draw an ankh into the dirt, tapping it lightly for emphasis.

“This is life. Not a mere word, but a principle. The scribes didn’t create a language, they composed eternity. Unlike the paltry English alphabet, where letters are just sound, a hieroglyph embodies what it means. To carve sun, for example,” I drew the symbol in the dirt with a smile. “Is to invoke Ra himself. Layers upon layers. Marrow with meaning.”

I turned to him, smug, “but my speech is wasted on someone who prefers their truths spoon-fed and monosyllabic.”

“If I'd known you were going to drone on like that, I would have kept quiet.”

“You irritate me.”

“Likewise, linguist.”

I didn’t offer a response, but that sounded better than ex-biologist, so I’ll take it. A hush fell between us as we finished up. The crackling flames and the sounds of the forest creeping closer filled the space. The chilly air, which was usually tolerable during the day, wasn’t so tolerable at night. I shivered as it kissed my skin, sneaking its way under my clothes. I stared at my feet, munching on the last of the nearly burnt fungus, and cursed my circumstances. In the quiet, my mind wandered to Sora, her laugh, and that beaming positively. Perhaps it was selfish, bordering on irresponsible, but I wanted her next to me. Here with me.

Unlike Senku, I was aware she’d hang on my every word, and the hieroglyphics at my feet would grow into several symbols followed by a lecture on their meanings. She wouldn’t be bored, far from it, and she would be trying to copy them. My mind went deeper, circling the drain, thinking maybe it’s best that she stay petrified.

Would it be okay for her to be living like this? I’m struggling to hold my own weight, let alone take on hers. Something akin to grief settled in my chest, mourning a loss I couldn’t quite grasp with words. Experiences invoke feeling, and with them expressive words, but how does one even express this? A trauma like this?

“Ksaftekh, taḥritha. Kol yom ḥashkhan b-libbi. Tsarikha alay. La ḥad kamokh. Teshme’in qala d-nishmati?” I spoke quietly, reverently, refusing to raise my head. “Alaha d-raḥme, shma qolī. Ana da‘īfa, meshkhaḥtā. Tishra shlamekh ‘al nafsha d-aḥoti. Af b-dumī, shma. Af b-sh’tiqa, haw. Taḥin ‘alāy, w’alāyha.”

“Moved on from dusty incantations to what? Convening with holy spirits?” His tone dripped with unspoken criticism, a laugh hidden behind a layer of boredom. I snapped the stick. My skin grew hot, and not from the blaze in front of me. No, this was anger simmering from his ignorance. Instant and rash.

“Aramaic is a thread to something eternal, greater. It’s substantial, coated in connection, and worthy of consideration. Predating Latin, Rome for that matter. Spoken by people who were stripped of everything but their words. It is not trivial nor to be taken lightly. It harbors a depth one shouldn’t make a mockery of. Aramaic is sacred, deserving of respect, and in my case, there is nothing holy or divine about it. Not everything worth knowing ends in proof.” I stood to my feet with a harsh glare in his direction. His face was shadowed by the flickering light, watching me with that familiar, calculated look on his face.

“To be concise,” my tone, abrasive and cold. A literary knife bound in ancient knowledge. I held a broken piece of my stick in front of his face. Senku didn’t so much as twitch. I narrowed my eyes, feeling ready to explode at the sight of his calm composure. Expected, but still getting under my skin.

“You best hold your tongue.” I tossed the stick to the ground.

“Noscē locum toom,” I said it like a curse, and Senku watched the way he always did, infuriatingly calm. Blinking slowly, unmoving, as if sorting through yet another equation, looking right through me.

“Nosce mea.”

Then I left him there, climbing up and into the hut. Metaphorically slamming the door as I went, uncaring if he thought I was acting childish.

I wanted the words to land like thunder. With meaning stinging sharp, and I’d like to think they had. Know your place. Know mine. This wasn't a power play, I’m not clapping back with authority. A moment easily misconstrued, but I was well aware of the fact that you can’t knock him off a proverbial pedestal he had never placed himself on. I would never try to put him beneath me. He learns, he listens, and he solves problems. Built on solutions, not superiority.

Senku can poke at my poetic prose, tease my use of Latin, pick apart my shoddy metaphors, insult me in scientific terminology, and I would take it in stride with a smile armed with knives of my own. But this? This tongue, this language, is what you speak when you want your words to last longer than your name. It’s not sacred because of religion or divinity. It’s sacred because of memory. He didn’t simply insult me or my choice of language. He desecrated a weight I carry in silence. And did so ignorantly.

I took a breath, putting my hands on my hips in an attempt to relax, to calm down, and little by little the tension melted. I told myself it isn’t that serious.

That I was overreacting with my usual dramatics, but gaslighting myself would get me nowhere. Because it is that serious, to me. I wanted him to know, to understand, but maybe this is just one of the many things Senku would never get.

I tucked myself away in the corner, hoping he at least got the hint to leave me the hell alone for the time being. I pulled the pelt close to my chest, closing my eyes, and willed myself to sleep. No dice.

There was no malice behind his reaction, or the words even. No sneer. No smirk. His tone, albeit derogatory, was meant to be playful. He didn’t mean any harm, and I think that’s what set me off. And it hurt, the thought in the back of my mind that he doesn’t care. Cold, calculating, and indifferent to things deemed unnecessary. Inconveniences. He’s ignorant of what he broke.

And that is the curse of Ishigami Senku.

I wasn’t so sure I could sleep with my thoughts going a mile a minute. Time passed, I had no way of knowing how much, but I heard him come up eventually. No pauses as he settled down without a word. My lips thinned, holding back the words resting in my chest. For once, I didn’t want to speak them into existence.

How does one scold a lightning bolt?

You draw a line in the blackened, scorched earth, and hope something was learned from it.

Chapter Text

I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. The night dragged on endlessly, and sleep evaded me continuously. Not that I was still angry, invalidated is a more accurate description. Senku and I usually clashed because of moments exactly like this. Not in an explosive way, though my emotions certainly feel explosive. These were quieter, a slow-burning candle that would eventually go out. I’d get over it like I always did, namely because I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. No apology necessary. But it would be nice if he’d offer one without being forced.

I flipped over onto my back, staring at the inky black above. Thoughts quieter, but still simmering with…something. Unutterable in their warped, intangible state.

“Verba fugit, sed cor loquitor,” I whispered. It was a Latin phrase filled with heavy contemplation and a loss of expression, something one would say when the thoughts are too loud and the words to convey them are too muddied. I breathed it into existence, hoping maybe, just maybe, I would have some grand realization, and find some clarity. It offered nothing. Words flee, but the heart speaks.

“Et tamen nihil mūtātor.” And yet, nothing changes. Senku shifted on the opposite side of the room, and I snuck a glance in his direction, praying to the void he was deep in dreamland. This raised the question, does he even have those? He didn’t move again, and I relaxed. My body sank into the floor with an uncomfortable weight like lead had settled underneath my rib cage, its intent to suffocate and smother my lungs. My emotions swelled, and I closed my eyes hoping that would keep my tears at bay.

I covered my eyes with my arm hiding them. Trying to hold it in was futile, and I sucked in a shaky breath. A soft devastation. I’d felt alone before the petrification beam. Hiding behind contouring and mascara. Utilizing slang that was an affront to language. Smearing on lip gloss to hide the dusting of old books. Giggling over boys I didn’t give a second thought, or care about in the slightest. I didn’t even know who they were. Gossiping as if Regina George herself took possession of my body, but cruelty doesn’t come with credits. I drank the Kool-Aid believing it would solve all my problems. Joining in on a sorority-level circle jerk, like I would earn some sort of prize. I had been utterly alone, yet surrounded by so many. False. Fake. I feel no different now. Except, this time I had no foundation to hide behind.

This time, I was stuck facing the truth with nowhere to run. I learned to dislike who I was. Grew to be ashamed and insecure. The societal pressures I faced never allowed me to be her. These thoughts, these feelings, should be secondhand considering the situation I’m in. And yet they still gnaw on my soul like a starved dog catching a good meal, fearing it will be the last. Rabid and untamed.

“Fuck.” I pressed my palms to my eyes, breathing for a minute. The morning was on the horizon, the faint rays peeking out as birds began their rituals with soft trilling outside. I sat up, unable to lie there for a second longer, careful not to make a sound. I wiped my tears and dried my face. I would sooner jump from the open window before looking Senku in the eye right now. Consequences be damned. I stood to my feet, pulling my shirt tighter to my body as if that would ward off his inevitable awakening. I shuffled my way to the exit, observing how the flooring didn’t seem to give way to my weight at all. Keeping an ear open while watching for any minute changes in his body language, his breathing.

I spent an obscene amount of time climbing down, only pausing when his face was level with mine. Blurred, barely visible, but my heart picked up its pace because I could swear his eyes were open. I dropped down, waiting a moment before making any other movements. Deciding it was safe enough, after several beats of silence, I started moving. Grabbing tools I would need to start the day, and then slipping them into the belt I tied too tight around my waist to ensure that they stayed secure. I wanted to get the hell out of dodge, pronto.

My hand reached for a basket just as my feet carried me in the direction of the treeline, already having memorized where they needed to go without me needing to think about it. I paused in front of a larger tree, glancing back at the hut. Before I could rethink my choices, I pulled one of my tools free and worked on marking it. I tried scraping away the rough outer edge to reveal the inner flat bark but quickly gave up when I got a better idea. I marched back over to Senku’s lab and started carving. I started with a folded cloth, then a twisted wick of flax, and finally a forearm. A very crude, very unrecognizable forearm, but at least I knew what it was.

Seḥa.

I added, attempted, a chibi Senku spiky hair and all as a determinative. It looked horrendous, but he would know these symbols were directed at him. I stepped back, needing to lean in to see it, and I bit my tongue trying not to laugh. A chuckle slipped out anyway, and soon I was full-on laughing, quickly stepping away from the camp, slapping a hand over my mouth to keep quiet. I couldn’t imagine waking up to the sound of distant laughter. I shuddered at the thought.

“Idiot,” I said out loud and then stepped into the forest. This Stone World wasn’t the absolute worst thing ever if I thought about it. For me, and humanity, sure, but the earth? Nature? It was thriving, and I had a new appreciation for that the more I discovered, and the farther I explored. I still wanted to see if I could manage to pet a deer. I hadn’t given up yet. I trailed my fingers along each tree, humming as I walked between them, wondering how old they were. If any had been present before all this. Would they have been left to grow, or cut down? I didn’t know what was here before, but I doubt that they wouldn’t have had the chance to sprout in the first place, let alone grow.

I found myself unbothered as the wetness from the ground soaked into my primitive shoes, a far cry from my Nike’s. A feeling similar to wet socks, and I grimaced, deciding that, yeah, I was bothered after all. Before collecting breakfast, I made a pit stop to see my sister. There was a dull ache that settled in my chest at the sight of her, but it was hard to be melancholic when she looked the way she did. I wondered if Sora was also conscious. I doubted it. I struggled like hell to stay conscious in that darkness. Can’t imagine a seven-year-old can manage it.

“You’d think this was an adventure,” I started to speak, stepping closer. I crouched beside her, brushing her cheek. “You’d find the situation to be fun. You’re brave. Unlike your sister, who fears just about everything. Up to and including her shadow, but let’s agree I didn’t admit it.” I sighed, the joke falling flat when no response was given. I wished for advice from someone older and wiser. What would Mom do? I hadn’t even attempted to look for her yet, and I could only hold onto hope she hadn’t broken apart.

“What would you do?” I asked, staring at Sora’s face. “I guess I can be honest since you can’t hear me, but I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do, or what I’m doing. I’m just following Senku’s instructions like a lost kid in a store. I’m about as useless as a kid who can’t even tie their own shoes. Would I be gone already if I’d miraculously been revived before him? I don’t even want to think about it.” My thoughts started to revolve around that, building in a panic, and I shoved them down. I blinked slowly, taking a minute to keep myself composed. It didn’t work.

“I’ll be here every morning. You can’t hear me, or see me. You don’t even know that I’m here, but at least you won’t be alone. You’re not trapped in the dirt. Maybe I’ll feel less alone myself. I miss you, Sora, and I’m sorry.”

I stood to my feet, driven by hunger to walk away. I worked quickly, eating as I went, and before stepping out into the open space of camp, I tried to spot Senku. Scanning the space like a hawk, a blind one, and found nothing. The sun was higher now, and I found it hard to believe he was still sleeping. Luckily he was nowhere in sight. I dropped the basket in front of the lab and turned to leave, grabbing an empty one to collect more supplies. I paused after taking two steps forward.

I walked towards the now blackened ground where we lit our fire, staring at the symbols still left in the dirt. I erased them with my shoe, and it was as if they’d never been there at all. Funny how that works. How easily things can be wiped away, civilizations fall, words get lost in translation, and language changes over time. I kept walking, and I didn’t look back.

I stayed busy, only returning to eat without speaking a word or acknowledging he was there. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him. Childish indeed. I left when I was done, and stayed gone for as long as I could. Keeping myself out of my mind by preoccupying my hands. I didn’t return until night crept in, and the pile of wood I was supposed to split still sat untouched. I was too exhausted to even think, let alone finish what I started. Instead, I lit a fire, leaving Senku to his own devices. I struggled but managed to figure it out despite several failures. I kept the celebration of my success internal and started dinner.

My body was heavy, my eyelids fluttering with the need to sleep. If not for the fact that I was standing on my feet, I think I would have hit the ground. I ate my share, leaving what was left for Senku, climbed into the hut, and was out the minute I lay down.

The following two days were the same. We didn’t speak unless it was necessary, but I couldn’t avoid being at our camp, or him, for that matter, forever. The tasks were repetitive and tiring, and I wasn’t any less sore from day one of my revival. I still hadn’t gotten an apology. Did it even really matter now? Again with the gaslighting. It did. Maybe not to him, but it mattered to me.

I was in the middle of boiling water I collected earlier that morning when he appeared in my peripheral. I wouldn’t have glanced in his direction, but he was holding something out to me. I sighed, turning toward him, expecting it to be more work, but paused in confusion. He wasn’t looking at me, but he seemed to be offering something to me. It looked like a blackened stick.

“And what pray tell is that, exactly?” I asked, arching a brow, and offering my hand. “Are we passing burnt sticks around now?”

He dropped it into my open palm. A faint smell of burnt sap coming from it. It almost looked like a pencil. Smoothed edges suggesting he’d sanded it, somehow, and I blinked.

“Is this…” I trailed off, holding it with practiced ease. Even three thousand years of petrification hadn’t allowed me to forget the way a pencil fits in the groove of my hand. As if it belongs there. I almost smiled, almost.

“A Stone Age Sharpie. Smudgy, but it works. Easier than using rocks to carve into stone and trees.” And he promptly walked away.

Charming.

I stared at it. Confused for a moment before testing it on my palm. It worked, of course, it worked, leaving behind a thick bold line, and oh.

Oh.

I lifted my head, a thank you on the tip of my tongue, but the words didn’t come out. I watched him walk away, going back to testing revival fluid, muttering to himself. This was an apology, a gift. Senku was apologizing. I smiled for real this time, staring at the blackened line on my palm like it had a whole new meaning. I resisted the urge to kick my feet because this was the beginning of something good. Something that was me, and I knew exactly where to start.

I stood to my feet, marching over to the symbols I had drawn earlier and pulling the same tool from earlier free to add an addendum. I started with the sun/star symbol. Used to express clarity or symbolize divine light. Then the vulture glyph, much harder, and my brows furrowed in concentration.

“What are you doing?”

“Finishing my work,” I stated, matter-of-factly expecting him to walk away, but he stayed.

“Seḥa āt,” I spoke up with a poor explanation of what we were looking at. I blew the dust away, attempting and failing to mimic the vulture glyph. “Thoth would not be impressed with my work. I can write essays as easily as I breathe, but this? This is atrocious.”

“Right.” And when he didn’t walk away, I decided to explain it.

“The irony is lost on you. These three are phonetics, but they have deeper meanings as well. The folded cloth, more than an indicator of the consonant ‘s’ represents order, purity, and sacred wrapping. ‘Wrapped in ignorance.’ The twisted wick of flax? Related to flame and light, i.e., a fool pretending to be bright, and this shoddy excuse for an upright forearm indicates action, strength, or offer. A hand raised to ask but not receive. This little carving of you, a determinative a la Hikari, shows that this is about a person. Typically, this would have a seated man, but I wasn’t carving all that.” I waved a dismissive hand in the air before continuing.

“The sun or star symbol, in this case, refers to an epiphany or divine clarity, the lights not just seen but understood. The vulture, which I’m carving now, has many meanings. In this context, though, it is wisdom. Wisdom feeds on bones of ignorance. The bread loaf I’ll be adding is simplistic, a phonetic indicator, but to fit in means softened at the edges of humility. The ignorant one found enlightenment.” I gently nudged his shoulder with mine, teasingly.

“Ignorant, huh?” He scratched at his ear with his pinky. I’d think he was disinterested, but he stayed and listened, so I smiled.

“Says the girl who needs three hundred syllables and an etymology chart to apologize. Unnecessary considering I couldn’t read that in the first place.”

“I could have left it as is, you know.” I shrugged off his words, wanting to finish before it got dark. Later on, as we were sitting in front of the fire, having finished dinner, the silence stretched on. I braced my palms on either side of my body. The primitive sharpie rested in between my fingers, and I watched the smoke try to reach for the stars.

And then I started speaking my thoughts from this morning out loud, utilizing Latin like a shield. A form of protection, or maybe it was cowardice, but I talked anyway.

“Etiam ante petrficarionem sōla eram, scis?” I raised my eyes to look at the sky. “Me cēlābam sub pigmentō et rīsibus falsīs. Loquēbar sermone quī ipsam poēsīn laedēbat. Rīdēbam dē puerīs quōs nec cōgitābam nec vērē amābam. Me trādidī famæ, quasi saevitia meritum gigneret.” I huffed a laugh, closing my eyes, realizing I was mocking myself. Mocking the way that I had acted, and spoken, and I was grateful Senku couldn’t understand a lick of my words.

“Etiam inter multōs…penitus sōla,” I quieted, feeling exposed now that those feelings were out in the open. Raw and unfiltered, but still safely unknown. The fire crackled, and something ran through the bushes, but neither of us spoke. I think he was waiting for me to follow up in a language he understood, but I wouldn’t be offering to clarify.

“Translation?”

“I don’t want to learn to be like you. Or to be like anyone else. I want to learn to be me.” It wasn’t what I said, but I offered my honest feelings in exchange. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “I like my language to be a little dressed up and dramatic. Literary flair is going to be a trend. In dramatica syntax we trustum.”

“I don’t need to be fluent to understand that wasn’t Latin.” The subtle upturn of his lips didn’t go unnoticed, and I mirrored it. I was learning, after all, just going in a different direction.

“It wasn’t. Color me surprised, I didn’t expect you to notice. Cicero himself would weep at my bastardized words.” I put a hand on my chest. “Forgive me, Cicero. It is merely in jest. In dramaticā syntaxi confidimus. The proper form, classical, but I like to mix it up. Bastardized Latin is essentially informal speech, slang. Adds a little spice to my otherwise dusty incantations.”

This fool has found enlightenment too.

Chapter Text

The warmth on my face warred with the remnants of a fading dream, but I didn’t want to wake up yet. This was the first restful sleep I’d gotten since my revival in this hellscape. I had written off the first night never to be thought of again, I had betrayed myself already. Let there be no more stormy nights, but it was just my luck that Senku had revived me during typhoon season. At least this was the tail end or it should be. Or maybe luck was on my side and three thousand years has changed things.

“Mmm, sōl recēde.” I groaned softly, annoyed, turning away from the offending sunshine. My eyes opened to find red ones staring at me, mere inches from my face, intense and studious. I sucked in a sharp breath sitting upright startled. Guess there would be no sleeping in for me.

“Deus meus!” Was he trying to give me a heart attack? Jesus. “Senku, why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

“Are you aware you speak Latin even when you’re sleeping?” He said in a low voice. He sat up with a sigh rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Ten billion percent creepy.”

“And waking up to you watching me isn’t?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes, failing to will my heart to de-escalate.

“You haven’t been sleeping well. You’ve got dark circles that would impress Dracula.”

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes, knowing all too well what I must look like. I didn’t need a mirror to see that in my mind's eye. “A lady loves to hear that first thing in the morning.”

“And I’ll take that into consideration the next time I see one.” He flashed me a grin, but I did not have the energy to indulge in banter. I didn’t feel any more rested than the day before despite sleeping through the night. I didn’t even want to think about the long day ahead already sorting through my mental checklist.

“Rude.”

Silence stretched between us. Something unspoken seemed to ripple in the air, or I was purely being imaginative.

“You’re usually gone by now.”

I looked over at him unsure if he was asking me a question, or making statements. Perhaps calling me out on my avid avoidance the past few days. His expression offered no clues.

“And you care to bring that up, why?” I asked him. If he had been wanting information he didn’t offer anything else standing to his feet.

“We have work to do.” His response was dry, leaving me to guess his thoughts. I clicked my tongue knowing all too well that meant I was going to be Senku’s little servant for the day. I stood to my feet resisting the urge to pinch myself just to make sure I was not in a nightmare. I hadn’t tried that yet, and well, unfortunately for me this was still very real.

“Whatever it is, it can wait. You get a head start. I have things I need to do.” I sent him a cheeky look grabbing my usual basket. “Breakfast won’t appear on its own.”

Except I was leaving camp for more than the intention of gathering breakfast. I told Sora I’d come to see her every morning, and I intended to uphold my word. The morning was fading fast so I picked up my pace. Quick steps turning into a near run. I entered the clearing out of breath, basket in hand letting it slip from my fingers to fall to the ground.

“The weirdo apologized,” I said with a smile collapsing next to her in the least ceremonious fashion laying on my back and holding the Sharpie up towards the sun. “Never thought I’d see the day. I’m late, but I think you’ll forgive me.”

I let the silence stretch on for a few seconds already anticipating the type of questions she would have. I could almost hear her voice in my head.

“Yeah, I know, I can hear you already. Yes, we’re still friends and yes he’s still weird. Emotionally stunted and insufferable. Exactly how I remember. You would still be annoyed by him, trust me. No, there haven’t been any explosions, but I sense that will change in the future.”

I’d give just about anything to hear her voice right now. The wind picked up causing the leaves to dance, and I watched them gently sway and listened to the world around me. Allowing the peace of the moment to wash over me. Her stone figure in my peripheral vision was like a record scratch ripping me away from what could be a good way to enjoy the transition of morning to the afternoon. A reminder of what is, and what was.

“Would you even want to talk to me?” The question made the air and my chest feel heavier, but I refused to let my tears fall. My lips trembled anyway, and I took a deep breath to steady myself.

“Come back to me soon.” I turned on my side, uncaring how it hurt my neck to lay on her arm the way that I was. “Show me your back flip. Tell me about what happened at school that day. Why were you crying? Ask me to braid your hair. I’ll do it whenever you want. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll be here this time. I’ll always be here, okay? Just hang on a little longer for me.”

I brushed her cheek with my fingertips. The exhaustion was catching up to me. The few hours of sleep every night, the constant moving, and my eyelids were growing heavy again.

“I’ll fix this, fix us. I swear it, Sora.” I closed my eyes and when they did open I wasn’t in a forest, but in my living room back home. I could hear Sora laughing in the kitchen, but my legs felt frozen, unwilling to move. I could feel the familiar threads of the carpet under my feet. Hope, and relief surging forward all at once. I was home.

“Hikari! Dinner’s ready.” I heard my mom yell, and I moved forward mechanically. Stepping into the brightness, I saw Sora first. Blonde curls swaying across her shoulders when she turned to me smiling proudly pointing at her mouth.

“I lost a tooth! I didn’t even cry this time.”

I couldn’t speak, felt like I couldn’t breathe. My eyes left hers drifting in the direction of my mother. Her hair was dark like mine. Long reaching the small of her back. She was facing away from me pulling a dish out of the oven. She sighed in defeat, it was overdone by the look and smell of the kitchen.

“Sorry girls, I guess I’m not getting any better at this.” I sucked in a breath when she turned toward us, oven mitts gripping the edges of the glass dish, sauce on the front of her apron holding the food outward with an apologetic look on her face. Her usually kind eyes were disappointed as she set it on the counter. This was familiar, a little too familiar. Sora looked too young, but the realization was overshadowed by immense joy. They were here, and I didn’t care about the rest.

“Take out?” She offered as a substitute with a tiny smile setting it down.

“No,” I said, stepping toward her. “It’s fine just the way it is.”

“I don’t know, Hikari,” Sora said skeptically, hopping out of her chair to stare down at it. “The cheese is all speckle-y.”

“Well then don’t eat those bits.”

“Hikari it’s alright—” My mom started to say, but I interrupted.

“I’m going to eat it,” I said firmly, fixing myself a plate, and sitting down. “You guys can do whatever you want.”

They watched intently, sharing a look. I took a forkful, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite. It was…fine. Not good, not bad, but it tasted alright. It tasted like home. I took another while they watched. My mom was looking at me curiously, but I ignored it. Sora had come to stand by my side gently poking me.

“You’re not supposed to be sleeping.” The prodding continued. Sleeping? “Hikari, you need to get up.”

I furrowed my eyebrows looking at her, but her skin had turned grayish, stone-looking. I dropped the fork eyes lifting to look at Mom in the same state. No, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be fine. We’re supposed to be fine. Reality seemed to slap me across the face, my subconscious and conscious mind battling it out as the real world started to tune out the fantasy.

“How did you even fall asleep like this?” A tired voice caused me to sit up scrambling to my feet to find Senku crouched down with a stick in hand. I was breathing heavily, eyes shifting, analyzing, making sure, until they found Senku’s crimson ones watching me. I swallowed, looking away and standing upright with a tired sigh. My heart was still pounding hard, but it began to settle as the dream faded from memory like all the others.

“For the love of Latin please tell me you weren’t poking me with a stick. Sēriō?”

“This is why I said sleep is important.” He sighed, tossing the stick aside and standing to his full height. He looked like a scolding parent, and I felt much like a scolded child.

“And the basket is still empty. You’ve been out here for three hours.”

I turned my face away, shame creeping up on me with an undercurrent of irritation. I internalized my apology, eyes falling on Sora’s face again.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Obviously. You passed out hugging a rock.”

“That’s my sister!” I snapped at him, and his features softened slightly. Remaining stoic, but light enough to let me know he hadn’t meant harm.

“I can bring her back.” His voice is calm, but far from reassuring. I’d added weight when I shouldn’t have. Projected thoughts, probably, hopefully. I clenched my fists.

“I know that.” My voice was tight with restraint.

“But I can’t do everything.”

“I know,” I said quieter. “Unum fatale commisisti: me revocare erat error. You should’ve just left me here. Liability, remember?”

“Lame excuse.”

“Tu nihil capis.” I tapped my temple, steamrolling my way through my thoughts before I could think to keep them at bay. Some of them I wasn’t willing to share, but flipping to Latin was second nature these days. Might as well consider it my first language. I preferred the ancient tongue anyway.

“It’s just constant buzzing. Old things, new things, and it doesn’t stop. It won’t stop. Timor mentem obumbrat. Physically? I don’t know how I’m standing. Emotionally? Don’t get me started. Mentally? I maxed out over a thousand years ago. Staying conscious was my personal hell. I don’t know how I managed. I kept…thinking. About her.” I pointed at Sora. “And you. And mom, and all the ways I haven’t been good enough. All the ways I screwed up. Cruciātus. It was torture, and I’m awake and I’m still torturing myself. Like I’ve rewired myself that way. I can’t shut it off. Fracta sum. Misceor. Pars mei manet in nihilō. Praeterita me sequuntur vocant. And the worst part about it? Adhuc dēficiō.”

Senku sighed looking up toward the sky like he wanted God, maybe the sun itself, to help him. I would find the sight funny knowing he’s an atheist, but I couldn’t. I opened up more than I should have. More than I was willing, and I wanted to take it back. To lie, and brush this off with an apology, but it was too late now. The last thing I wanted to do was dump my issues onto him when he’s doing so much already. I needed to get a grip. It isn’t a choice.

“Again with the incantations.”

“Fine,” I shook off my unease, ignoring my discomfort about the situation, and my feelings. I couldn’t bury them or keep them behind a mental wall. They churned endlessly, mixing creating an ocean of doubt, fear, and guilt, and bonding with stress. Uncontrollable, tossed between frothy waves that I can't fathom taming. A penance carved in thought, not stone.

“I want to be useful to you, and I’m doing a piss poor job. It hasn’t been a full week, and I feel like a wreck. I’m struggling to tolerate myself. I keep…expecting you to yell at me. To get mad, upset. Something, anything, I don’t know. I would be if the roles were reversed. Inferī, you’re trying to save humanity and I’m here whining and napping.” I threaded my fingers through my hair with a scoff. It was pathetic really the more I thought about it. I wanted things to be different. I still want things to be different. But I’m lacking something important, and for Senku it comes so naturally it makes my head spin. I can’t even begin to articulate my thoughts on him being so calm when I’ve been freaking out since the words ‘three thousand seven hundred years’ left his mouth.

“I don’t know what to do, and…and I’m ter—” I turned my cheek snapping my mouth closed. Terrified. Yeah, what aren’t I scared of?

“You’re adapting, you’re learning, and you’re human.” The sentimentality of his words hit me hard. The soft tone somehow hit me harder. I wasn’t used to this. Not from him. My mom, sure, mothers are supposed to be comforting, and yet I blocked her out as much as Sora. I’d commit linguistic murder just for one of my mother’s hugs.

“This is when you’re supposed to be dismissive because I feel like I’m about to cry, and I think I’d rather bury myself.”

“I’m not going to yell at you like we’re in a bad drama monologue. Dramatics are your thing. You came out of a stone casket with a brain full of ancient words, and trauma, and you’re still standing. That's not a liability, that's statistical defiance.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re different. I can see that, and if it’s any consolation being an emotional wreck is better than an alternative like sociopathy.”

“Guess I dodged a bullet.” I laughed dryly.

“I’m never going to be the type to hold your hand, wipe your tears, or braid your hair when things get messy. But if you need to scream, curse, or yell at Gods neither of us believe in, I'll be here solving problems in the background. You’re useful, Hikari. Even whiny, barely decipherable, and covered in emotional boogers.”

I cracked a smile. “Boogers, really?”

“Metaphorical. You’ll survive.”

I let his words sink in, allowing the tension to leave my shoulders. The torrent of emotion was still there, that wouldn’t go away easily, if ever, but it felt more like a stormy lake now. Small, digestible, and easier to navigate for the time being.

“You’re so bad at this,” I said with a smile knowing it was a lie. I wouldn’t say he’s good, but somehow he knew what I needed to hear.

“I know.” He wasn’t looking at me, but I caught a hint of a smile on his face. I looked from him back down to Sora.

“I don’t need someone to hold my hand, wipe my tears, or braid my hair for the record. Wasn’t ever an expectation, and being coddled isn’t my forte. I just…don’t know how to navigate this.”

“Your prefrontal cortex is flooded with cortisol and your amygdala is pitching a fit. It was only a matter of time before you broke down.”

“Thanks, Dr. Feel Good,” I spoke with an eye roll sighing. “Were you counting the seconds to my inevitable implosion?”

“Three hundred fifty-six thousand four hundred seconds. I was wondering how long it would take for the dam to break. I expected it a lot sooner.”

I laughed softly at first and then doubled over into a full-blown fit of giggles. The realization he had been waiting for this, counting it, preparing for it, was not only hilarious to me but relieving. Of course, of course, he would do something like that. I wiped a stray tear from my eye feeling more at ease than I had since I first opened my eyes.

“I suppose I’ll grant myself some grace then considering I managed to keep everything at bay beyond your expectations. I’ll figure it out. No cursing Gods necessary.”

He still wasn’t looking at me, but I knew from that little comment alone he’d been looking out for me. This entire time he was calculating, clocking me like he would any other experiment.

“Grātiās. Quod conātus es. Quod fuostī ibi. Quod me vīdistī. Et cum mundus in umerīs tuīs gravis est…ibi erō.” I spoke low, earnestly lifting a hand without thinking. A quiet, grounding touch that never landed. The movement caught his eye, but I was the one to look away this time, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. It wasn’t calculating or unkind, just aware in a way that unsettled me. I let my hand fall back to my side.

“Si sinēs,” I finished, wanting to be there for him too if he’d let me. Senku didn’t need coddling either, acted like even small comforts were background noise, but he is literally carrying the world on his shoulders right now. Was, maybe is, as worried and dare I say afraid as I am. Differently than myself, but I’m sure he is feeling it in his own way. His confidence overshadowed it all, his brilliance, but I wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. Sometimes I wished he’d talk to me, really talk to me, beyond the dismissal of emotion. I wasn’t sure he ever would, and I am still unsure if it’s okay for him to be that way.

There was a pause, a gentle breeze passing between us, and then annoyingly calm he tilted his head before speaking. That look and that gentle smirk are all too familiar.

“Grātiās, thanks. Huh, maybe I am beginning to understand those fossilized words after all.”

I would have laughed if not for the subtle flutter in my chest. The idea of Senku being able to start decoding Latin had the tiniest bit of panic surging in my system. Latin was my current safety net, allowing me to speak secrets instead of harboring them. Not that he could become fluent purely from listening to me, but he is a boy genius. Can’t rule it out. I brushed past him ending the conversation before I got swept up in my emotions all over again. I grabbed the basket as I went, but paused before I stepped into the tree line.

“For the record, you’re different too. Whether it’s a good or bad thing is still up in the air. I’ll keep you posted.” And then I left him standing there shaking his head at me. I half expected him to follow, but I was already way behind schedule so I had to work double time to catch up. A feat I failed miserably to pull off. I wiped my forehead now that I had returned to camp looking out toward the horizon to see clouds rolling in. I frowned at the distant rumble, and it would be my luck to have to face another storm so soon.

I made us lunch since breakfast had long since come and gone, and made sure to do everything Senku said meticulously and without fail. Night fell, the storm closed in, and I chose to go to bed early praying I’d fall asleep before the wind could scream, before lightning stitched death across the sky, while the rain showed no mercy in its attempt to drown the earth. I wanted to sleep before the roar of the storm shook my bones with its thunder. I wanted to rest properly for a better tomorrow.

Chapter Text

I woke to thunder, steady rain growing in strength, and I blinked several times waiting to adjust to the dark. A flash of light illuminated the hut casting momentary shadows across the ground—horroresque and putting me on edge immediately. Several seconds later thunder followed. My hope that the storm would pass with me blissfully unaware was dashed. I gripped the pelt pulling it closer, and waited. Another flash of blue had me sucking in a sharp breath. I counted. Unos. Duo. Tres. Quattuor. Quinque. Sex. Septum. Octo. Novem. Decem. Undecim. Duodecim. A deep rumble rolled through the air like something was waking up.

How far was it, how close? Another flash, and I start counting again, whispering softly to myself, keeping my eyes glued to my shadowed white knuckles.

“Unos. Duo. Tres. Quattuor. Quinque. Sex. Septum. Octo. Novem.” I didn’t flinch at the sound, but the storm was getting closer. I turned away from the window, freezing up when I saw Senku was there. Not awake, at least I didn’t think so, but he was there. Closer than usual, as if he’d anticipated this, and I sighed, closing my eyes. It was an odd feeling knowing everything I did now. Knowing he knew. Understanding all this time how he’d been caring, waiting, anticipating things even I hadn’t considered. Had he always done this without me knowing? I flicked through memories but found no evidence.

Senku is undeniably my best friend. Probably the only real friend I’d ever had, and yet I’d hurt him. Maybe not in the way that left a deep well of emotions, that would be hard to believe, but the guilt crept up on me all over again. I pushed it down, refusing to circle those thoughts again, but here he was. Lying next to me aware I might need him there even if I wouldn’t ask for it. It was touching, my heart swelled, but there was this underlying emotion of something fragile I didn’t know how to carry. This was the complete opposite of how I wanted to be.

“Flebilis. I’m such a crybaby,” I spoke softly curling in on myself like that would solve all my problems. A shaky smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I’d make this up to him, somehow, someway. I may not know how, but I’d figure it out.

“You said it, not me.” His voice was sharp, and clear, breaking through my mental musings. He had me wondering if he had even been asleep in the first place.

I stiffened at the sound as his eyes opened, crimson intensity that always made me feel as if he was looking through me. Senku had a way of making me feel like he could see everything. Emotions down to the molecular level. There was no hiding from him. Heat crawled up my neck, and I wished I hadn’t said that out loud. Maybe I should start to always speak in Latin. Cicero can judge my informality from the afterlife.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” The apology fell from my lips dejected, a little broken. My body tensed with anticipation for the incoming storm bracing for impact. I had wanted to brave the night alone just to prove to myself I could, but the relief I was soaking up was a clear indication I wouldn’t have.

“I’m not a heavy sleeper. You move around a lot in your sleep by the way. Sharing a room with you sucks.”

“Oh, and like sharing a room with you is all sunshine and rainbows.” I scoffed, but the conversation didn’t pull my attention away. Talking was merely background noise to the concert of nature’s greatest hits.

The rain yielded to nothing, the thunder grew in a crescendo, and the wind came next howling loudly, mocking me. I tried not to react to it, to ignore it, I really did. I failed miserably, and I didn’t know what was more humiliating. My fear of storms, or my failure to hide it.

“I don’t remember storms being like this…before. Loud, violent, like the sky is about to break open.”

“Cities disrupted airflow, pollution scattered sunlight, and satellites used to track every cloud. Now we’ve got pure forest, pure sky, pure chaos. Moisture building with no interference. Trees pumping humidity like they’re running a race. A recipe for storms that make the sky seem like it’s about to break open.”

I held his gaze, not uncomfortable for once, and just thought about what he said. What that meant. Cut and dry for him, but eye-opening to me. Humanities advancements truly had a devastating effect on Earth that I didn’t understand until I was looking at a world where nature had the freedom to reign.

“Do you ever wonder if humanity broke something? That science went too far?” I was hesitant to ask, feeling foolish, but curious and wanting to hopefully build a distraction.

“Science didn’t break nature, people did. Science just gave them sharper tools.”

“And without them, the world would have stayed a little greener, cleaner, wilder, and more alive.”

“Yeah? And how long do you think you’d last in the wild without brains? Nature isn’t kind, it’s indifferent. You think the world is better because it looks pretty?”

“No, but it’s simpler. More honest.”

“And yet you’re counting lighting strikes, and I built a shelter to keep us out of the rain. Science is survival.”

“And what happens the next time Earth doesn’t get three thousand years to heal? What about its survival?”

“I’m not bringing humanity back just to break the earth again. We rebuild smarter, better.”

“Noble,” I smirked. “Sounds like a pipe dream. You know as well as I that humanity won’t listen.”

“Hardly, but I can make them understand.”

“Ten billion percent. I want to see this world that you’re rebuilding Ishigami Senku. Even if it sounds like a pipe dream.”

“And I’ll walk the whole damn pipe.” He smirked back at me, and I pulled my gaze away. Watching the storm with a new sense of understanding. Fear still lingered in my bones, groaning its defiance, because death and destruction can look beautiful, and I was staring into the heart of it. Unblinking, unyielding, but with a smile on my face and a better grip. That is until death twisted into something darker, more treacherous as the brunt of it descended. My lips thinned at the sight, and I involuntarily curled in on myself.

“I am shamefully still terrified,” I admitted aloud, earning a mocking huff in response.

“Scaredy cat.”

“Nerd,” I clipped back, once again facing away from the storm inching closer to Senku. A completely rational thought process. I wanted to get away from the window, and I definitely did not want to be coddled right now after declaring I didn’t need it. I dared not to ask for it. Even though I was firm on that front, part of me secretly hoped he’d offer comfort anyway. I wanted to eviscerate it because I had humiliated myself enough. Under Senkus' watchful gaze knowing he was keeping track of every twitch, tremble, and whimper only made it worse.

“I’m fine,” I stated, botching an attempt to sound believable, meeting his gaze. He knew it was a lie, could hear it in my voice, but I wanted him to believe me.

“Right, and you’re shaking like a leaf because it’s a new quirk you’ve developed.” His voice was flat, definitive. Cracking open the moment in a way I didn’t want to indulge.

“You’re not funny,” I mumbled staring intently in a different direction. Except my eyes happened to catch sight of a bolt of lightning striking something not far forcing me up with a gasp pushing farther from the wall colliding with Senku. What if it struck the hut? What would we do? What if a fire started and we couldn’t put it out?

“Completely unnecessary reaction.”

I whipped my head around to find Senku rubbing the side of his face, and I grimaced apologetically realizing I was the cause.

“I hate that you can be so calm! What if we get hit? Or a fire starts? What if it floods and—”

He covered my mouth with his hand, firm but not harsh. His gaze is sharp, and apodictical, leaving no room for debate. Silencing my spiral mid-breath.

“What we’re not going to do is that.” I shoved his hand into his chest, unable to muster a glare with my mind racing with thoughts of everything that could go wrong.

“Well, you can’t tell me it’s not possible.” I defended myself. “My worries are logical!”

“Your brain doesn’t run on logic alone, and chemically it’s going off. Your amygdala isn’t the most logical part, it’s the danger sense organ for a reason. Reacts faster than your conscious mind can keep up. You can be thinking ‘I’m safe,’ but it’s already triggered your fight or flight instincts which is why you’re toeing the line between rational thought and a panic attack. Cortisol levels are going to keep rising if you don’t calm down. You need to breathe.”

“But—” The look he gave me had me shutting my mouth. So I listened, tried to, but the storm, the noises, the torrent of rain battering our shelter was the only thing I could focus on, and it was only getting louder. He sighed and looked upward much like he had earlier in the day. He tugged me down with zero regard for my body as it landed on his. Elbows collided with the floor, and the noise I made in protest was muffled by his coat.

“This will not be a habit.”

I couldn’t bother with a response, let alone hone in on the embarrassment I know I’ll feel later because Senku felt like a lifeline right now.

“It's too loud. I can’t ignore it.” I realized to my disdain I had started crying at some point. This is the worst. I didn’t know who I wanted to curse at more, the storm or myself for being so damn afraid. I was cursing the memory of being six, terrified, alone, and trapped outside as a flash flood came through while I hid in a slide at the park. I should’ve listened to my mom and stayed home. I am fifteen years old and I shouldn't be afraid anymore. Yet here I am shaking and soaking the front of Senkus’ coat with tears.

“Cūr adhūc timēo? Cūr nōn possom sōlum…dēsinere?” I spoke in a barely contained whisper. “I don’t want to be like this. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll work on it.” He said simply.

“We?” I lifted my head confused, our faces too close for comfort. My hands were on his chest holding my weight, and it was too late now to rid the imagery from my mind. I’d already taken a mental snapshot. I didn’t pull away, and he didn’t either. Silence stretched on for several seconds. He left my question unanswered, and I searched for them in the blurred imagery of his features.

“You don’t have to do…this,” I said without thinking. Not fully understanding my feelings yet with mild panic holding the reigns of my already oceanic well of emotions.

“And I was supposed to listen and watch while you cry and panic in the corner?”

“No, but—” My face was blazing. I could feel the heat from my neck to the tips of my ears, the darkness of the night acting as a shield, but I knew there was no hiding it from Senku. The situation, him, the humiliation reached its peak, and I was sure I’d combust. At least it was distracting. Take the good with the bad, or so they say. Cicero, save me.

“I’m not built for this.” His gaze shifted elsewhere, and once again Senku left me awestruck and questioning everything I thought I knew about him. “But I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Whatever response I started to conjure was lost with the next resounding crack of thunder. Not one, but several, three sharp cracks like the sky was wielding a whip. My mouth fell open with a response, but the air felt punched from my lungs. I would never know what kind of look I had on my face earlier, or now, but he moved with precision. Tugging me down again, forcefully, holding my head to his chest, his free hand over my ear, and the storm immediately grew quieter. Dulling down. My mom used to do this for me, more gracefully than Senku, but she’d hold me like this. I’d be in her lap, and she would hum softly and rock me side to side. If Senku started doing that I’d be forced to believe this is a fever dream. The hospital I expected to wake up in would surely be on the horizon. If only.

He didn’t hum, but he did hold me tighter, reminding me to breathe. I didn’t know anymore if my heart was pounding because of my fears, the shame, or because of his actions. His heart on the other hand was calm, steady, his breathing even, and grounding. Over time I began to mirror it, counting my breaths, the heat on my face dissipating as my body relaxed. The grip I hadn’t realized I had on his coat loosened, and I tucked my fingers into my chest. It wasn’t perfect, the storm raged on, the angles all wrong with half my legs on the floor curled up, my spine angled uncomfortably, and my face pressed against his chest with no regard for how my neck would feel, but I felt better, safer. The same way I had the first night and tonight would be added to the file of do-not-reopen.

“Can we agree never to speak of this?”

“That’s a given.” I could feel the chuckle, but couldn’t garner up a smile. I sighed internally, letting my eyes fall closed. The faster I get to sleep the faster I can go back to pretending I’m not utterly pathetic and heavily reliant on the boy genius. I refined my thoughts beginning with a mental list of the things I needed to do. Beyond collecting resources, my hygienic system has yet to begin. I’ve established a baseline with Senku’s help. Sanitizing water, boiling stations, still waiting on soap, and soon I’ll be harassing Senku for a shower station á la Stone World. No plumbing yet, but eventually I will have it one way or another. Collecting resources was taking too much of my time to handle things the way that I needed. I may know the why behind everything, but I don’t know how. Stuck in a framework of theory unable to execute without Senku’s encyclopedic knowledge. Though I’m learning fast, things need to be better. Before the cold comes, and with it sickness. Fevers, coughing, sneezing, the works. We didn’t have the means to handle it, and we needed them. We needed Taiju, and we needed him soon.

The thought of Taiju derailed my thoughts entirely. I was beginning to feel in control, but now I’m hyper-aware of the fact this would not be happening if he were here. That fact was obsolete. Inferī. What the hell am I supposed to do then?

Do not freak out. I can break this down, right? I can do this. I just need to channel my inner Senku. Think of this like he would. Fear of storms? Debilitating I’d be lost if left to my own devices. What do I do when logical thinking shuts down? My amygdala, according to Senku, will be working against me. For survival that’s great, but it was causing humiliation worthy of a grave six feet deep, not great. How do I get ahead of it? Can I get ahead of it? Change it? Ensure my ability to handle it on my own the next time? Because there will be a next time, and I didn’t have the safety of music in my headphones anymore, or my journal.

“You’re growing tense. We both need sleep, and you thinking on overdrive is not helping.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled adjusting my grip on my shirt. Tomorrow. I will tackle my situation tomorrow. Exhaustion had crept in along with the relief. Despite how uncomfortable the position was, my eyelids began to droop, growing heavy. Senku was a constant grounding me here making everything else seem far away. It happened slowly, like a dying lightbulb. Flickering, but eventually, I did pass out.

The next time my eyes opened I was in a different position, but my neck was aching and my back felt like it needed wrung out. Senku’s arms were still around me, and the urge to jerk out of his hold came and went as quickly as the awareness that my arms were also wrapped around him. If I was up then he was up, a light sleeper. I reminded myself. With no grace whatsoever I rolled to my side and stood to my feet. Face hot, and I was gone without a glance in his direction. It wasn’t until I was on solid ground that I realized it was still raining. Cloudy, grey, I had no way of knowing what time it was, but I maintained my routine, grabbing a basket, and leaving whatever the hell that was behind.

I went to Sora first, a tingle of nerves shut up my spine, and I picked up the pace. She was still there, looking exactly as she had when I left her. Surrounded by mud, and looking out of place, but there and together. I relaxed at the sight of her, the stress melting away for the time being. The heaviness in my limbs went away, and I wiped at my face uselessly. The rain was about to make this day a hellish one.

“I might have been late this morning. Hard to tell.” My voice sounded foreign almost, laced with something I couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like mine.

“I’m still scared, I think.” I thought out loud. “I can’t stay this time. I don’t want to be out here. I hate that you are out here.” My throat tightened, and I forced myself to turn away. The tension returned, my mind already working itself up with what-ifs. What if it storms now?

“I have to go, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t even sure I said it out loud. My feet were already carrying me away. I avoided the creek, though I took note it had risen quite a bit. That limited my search immensely. The longer I was out here, the harder it was to maintain control. Anticipating, expecting, the thunder to start. My breaths were sharp, but I didn’t go back. I worked with shaking hands, slipping with my haste to be done, and needing to catch my breath several times. Do not panic.

“Etiamsi timeō sed faciam.” I kept moving, doing what needed to be done. “Ambulō per infernum, sī dēbeō.”

“Dēbeō,” I repeated. I have to. By the time I was done, I was soaked. The rain had made it through my clothes. I was cold, and shaking, and I returned to camp the moment I could.

“You look like a drowned rat.” His hand was on his hip, a retort on the tip of my tongue, but I halted.

“Your hair is down.” Dumb. The basket was dropped in front of him, and he rolled his eyes.

“Observant.”

“I’ve never seen it down.”

“It’s raining. What did you expect?”

Right. I hadn’t looked away, squinting slightly, having a harder time with visuals leaning closer to see better.

“I don’t know if I like it. The mad scientist became…” I trailed off, unable to come up with a description. “I don’t know. Weird.”

“When you’re done checking me out we have work to do.”

“Checking you out!?” I actually stuttered. I don’t stutter. “I would never—oh my god. No, just, never insinuate something so stupid again.”

“Your face is red.” He smirked, and I glared, sending death in his direction.

“I’m cold you ass!” I snapped. “Puerīlia ineptiaque—res aliās cūrō. If I get sick because of this you better pray to the cosmos I can manage it. We are not prepared for it. That’s where my concerns are. Checking you out,” I mumbled, “like hell I am.”

“Like I said, we have work to do. So get to it.”

“Ambulant paradox. Mire sapis, nisi quando loqueris.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved off my insults, unaware of what they meant. “Let’s get to it.”