Chapter Text
The screen flickered for a second before Gen’s face came into view. Dim lighting, soft shadows and the faint outline of a blanket around his shoulders.
“You look like a tragic poet. Are you okay?” Senku said dryly.
“I am a tragic poet.” Gen replied. His voice was hoarse.
“Except my poetry is mostly PR scripts and last-minute rewrites before live shows.”
Senku blinked. “Rough day?”
Gen exhaled dramatically and flopped sideways onto his bed, the phone camera moving with the motion.
“You have no idea. A guest bailed last minute, the replacement froze on stage and the producer kept calling me by the wrong name. Like, the whole time. And don’t even get me started on the audience questions.”
Senku smirked slightly. “And yet, you survived.”
“Barely.” Gen muttered. “My patience is gone. Only the glitter remains.”
There was a beat of silence. Just the quiet connection between them.
Senku leaned back in his desk chair, spinning slowly. “I ran three distillation tests today. I think I’ve almost got the stability ratio fixed.”
Gen propped himself up on one elbow. “You’ve been at it for a few hours, huh? I’m proud of you.”
“You know, for someone who claims to run on chaos, you’re surprisingly loyal to routine. We call every night now.”
Gen smiled. “Habit is comfort. And besides...” He tapped the screen “...this is the best part of my day.”
Senku’s throat tightened for a second. He looked away. “You really live in Tokyo?”
Gen blinked, then nodded. “My work sends me all over, I haunt hotels more than my own bed most of the time. But yeah. My apartment’s in the city.”
Across the screen their eyes met. The air felt charged. It was heavy with something unspoken.
“We’re... not that far.” Gen said softly.
Senku nodded. “Not far at all.”
★☆★
The calls continued. Night after night, sometimes short and sleepy, sometimes long and lingering. They talked about stupid things like bad vending machine snacks, old cartoons, the weirdest things they ever googled. But also heavy things. Like fame. Fear. Pressure. Or purposes.
Gen had a way of tilting his head just slightly when Senku spoke, quiet and focused, like he didn’t want to miss anything. One night, as Senku leaned forward to adjust the angle of his phone, Gen said with a faint grin “Careful, you’re making it very hard to focus right now.”
Senku rolled his eyes. “Then stop staring at me.”
But his heart beat a little faster every time Gen smiled at him through the glass. Every time Gen said his name a little softer than necessary. Every time Gen slipped in a casual flirt, or a compliment.
Senku told himself it was the soulbond. It had to be. That magnetic tug, that ache when they hung up, the warm buzz in his skin when Gen laughed. Yeah, that was the bond’s doing.
Except... it didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel like a spell. It felt natural. Like falling into a rhythm he’d always known somehow.
He more than often caught himself staring at Gen’s face for too long. Smiling at texts. Waiting for them. Hoping for... he doesn’t even know.
He sat with that feeling one night, long after the screen had gone black.
Maybe it really didn’t matter why.
Maybe it really wasn’t about fate, or science, or skin.
Maybe he just... liked him.
And maybe that was enough.
★☆★
Senku sat beside Chrome under one of the campus trees in a rare break between classes. Chrome had pulled out a container of sliced apples and was tossing a piece in the air, catching it in his mouth with a grin.
"Soooo..." Chrome said, nudging Senku with his elbow "Are you still gonna pretend you don’t know who your soulmate is, or...?”
Senku didn’t look up from his notebook. “Actually, I figured it out.”
Chrome’s eyes widened. “Wait- WHAT? When? Who?”
“I recognized his voice. On a livestream.” Senku said quietly, then paused. “...do you know Asagiri Gen?”
Chrome dropped the apple he was about to toss. “Are you KIDDING me? Like the Gen? TV mentalist Gen?!”
Senku finally looked at him, a touch of color in his cheeks. “Yeah. That one.”
Chrome made a strangled sound and shook his head. “Dude. DUDE! That’s wild. I mean, I always said you’d like your soulmate. But I didn’t think it’d be someone literally everyone else likes too.”
Senku snorted.
Chrome leaned back against the tree trunk. “So, uhhhh... do you like him?”
Senku hesitated. “...Yes. I do.”
A grin split across Chrome’s face. “Told you.” Then his tone shifted, more thoughtful. “Hey, you ever hear that theory? About soulmates?”
Senku raised an eyebrow. “I heard a few. Which one?”
“Okay, okay, hear me out. There’s this theory. Toootally unprovable, but it gives me chills. So before the Big Bang, before time or matter or anything, the souls were already there. Lots of them. Whole. Complete. Just... floating in whatever came before everything. And then the universe exploded into existence. In that chaos, each of those souls split. And ever since, we’ve been walking around with just a part, not even realizing what’s missing until the other piece shows up. That’s what soulmates are. Not destiny or magic or anything. Just fragments trying to find their match again. And the writing? That’s like a leftover echo. A signal from the part of us that still remembers being whole.”
Senku tilted his head, unwillingly drawn in.
Chrome continued, animated now. “Some people think that’s why the bond is so strong. Like your atoms are literally trying to find their match again.”
“It’s not provable.” Senku said slowly “But... it’s not entirely unscientific either. There are similar ideas in particle entanglement. Or quantum resonance. Patterns we don’t fully understand yet.”
Chrome grinned. “See? Even your beloved science can’t explain everything.”
Senku glanced down at his wrist where faint pen marks still lingered. “Maybe not. But I think I’m done pretending it doesn’t matter.”
Chrome bumped his shoulder gently. “Good. Because it does.”
★☆★
The sun was setting outside Senku’s window. Gen’s face appeared on the screen. It was one of those nights where he didn’t bother to hide anything. No stage makeup, no smile. Just honest exhaustion.
“Long day?” Senku asked, already knowing the answer.
“I think my brain tried to flee my head somewhere mid-meeting.” Gen muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “The producers kept tossing ideas around like ping pong balls. One of them seriously suggested I hypnotize a dog. On camera.”
Senku snorted. “I would watch that.”
Gen gave him a flat look, then softened. “I’d stream it straight to your phone. Exclusive access. But no.”
Senku smiled faintly and turned back to the star chart he was working on, glancing at Gen through the corner of his screen.
A thought had been tugging at him for days now. Sitting in his chest, poking at his ribs.
He didn’t plan to say it tonight. Not yet. But when Gen yawned, eyes soft and tired, Senku spoke before he could think better of it.
“There’s a festival this weekend.”
Gen blinked. “A festival? Like a matsuri?”
Senku nodded, eyes fixed on the edge of his desk. “It’s near campus. Lanterns, games, fireworks... pretty standard stuff.”
“Sounds... nice?” Gen said slowly, voice curious. “Why are you telling me?”
Senku hesitated. His fingers tapped against the wood. “Because I want you to come.”
The silence stretched for a beat.
Gen didn’t smile right away. In fact, he looked a little stunned. “You’re inviting me to meet you. In person.”
“I am.”
“You know I’ll have to shuffle things. Ask for time off. Make excuses. That’s not easy for me.”
“I figured.”
“And I might wear something ridiculous. Like, sparkle chaos yukata ridiculous.”
“That’s... expected.”
A smile crept across Gen’s lips, slow and fond. “You really want to meet me?”
Senku finally looked into the camera. “I do.”
Gen leaned back, pressing a knuckle to his lips. “Give me the date and time. I’ll make it work.”
Senku exhaled slowly, chest light. “Saturday evening. I’ll send you the details.”
Gen nodded. “You know, I wanted this from day one.”
“I fought the idea for too long.” Senku admitted. “But now... I can’t wait to see you.”
★☆★
The days leading up to the festival passed quickly. They didn’t talk about it much, but the air between them pulsed a little more with each passing day.
Their texts changed. Still banter-filled and strange, but laced now with anticipation. Gen sent selfies of possible outfit choices (Too dramatic? Too subtle? Do I look like a runaway host?) and Senku responded with short comments but secretly saving every single one.
Gen arranged with his manager to block off the weekend, blaming it on 'creative burnout.’ It was only half a lie. He didn’t say it was for his soulmate.
Senku, meanwhile, mapped out the festival grounds, checked out the quieter hill behind the main event and packed a small bag with extra water, snacks, and, after a long debate with himself, a packet of star stickers he’d bought months ago, thinking of Gen.
By Friday night, neither of them could concentrate. Gen paced in his apartment, talking to himself in the mirror. Senku ran through every possible scenario in his head. Twice. He also checked the weather forecast five times.
Neither of them said I’m nervous.
But they both were.
★☆★
Senku stood a little awkwardly near the entrance gate to the festival. He had arrived way too early and now he had nothing to do but to wait. His yukata, a deep navy one with subtle silver flecks like falling stars, suddenly felt too tight at his collar. He adjusted it. Then again. Then he gave up.
He paced in a slow circle, checked the time, resisted checking his phone again and finally settled for fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, pretending it was only for calibration. His brain wouldn’t quiet. What if Gen changed his mind? What if he didn’t show? What if this was a mistake?
"I am a rational person." He muttered under his breath, almost as if that would suppress the heavy beating of his heart. "It’s just a meeting under controlled conditions. Expected variables. Just your soulmate. Calm down already."
Then he heard it.
“Senku!”
His head snapped up. Gen was jogging toward him through the thinning crowd, strands of black and white hair bouncing with every step. His yukata was completely absurd, deep purple with dramatic white spirals, glittering faintly but just visible in the lantern’s glow.
Senku’s heart spiked, fast and chaotic. Hot and cold washed through him in quick waves. He opened his mouth to speak, desperate to bury his nerves in sarcasm.
“That yukata should be illegal. It’s really sparkle chaos.”
“Admit it, you love it.” Gen said, already grinning while still walking.
“I tolerate it.” Senku replied, his voice steadier than he felt.
But Gen didn’t stop to banter further. He crossed the last few steps between them and, without a warning, he pulled Senku into a tight hug. His arms locking around Senku’s back with surprising strength.
Senku froze.
It was almost like the moment a message first appeared on his skin. Sudden, quiet, intimate... But this? This was ten billion times stronger. His whole body lit up with the connection. Longed for it. It caught his breath.
Gen’s arms were warm and real around him. It felt like the universe stopped turning, just for them. Everything else slipped away, like it didn’t matter anymore.
Senku didn’t move. Not right away. Then his arms lifted slowly, returning the gesture, anchoring himself in the weight and presence of the other person.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them let go.
Because how could they, when it felt like everything had just clicked into place?
It felt like home.
Real.
Safe.
★☆★
Eventually they let go, slow and hesitant, like neither of them really wanted to. They stepped apart, but neither looked away. Gen’s grin was subtle now, quieter, like he didn’t want to break whatever this was.
“Hi.” He said, barely above a whisper.
Senku blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice. He replied without thinking.
“Hi.”
For a moment, Senku just stared. Gen wasn’t on a screen. He was real, centimeters away. Taller, warmer, closer than Senku had imagined. It threw him off more than he liked to admit.
"Shall we?" Gen finally asked.
They began walking side by side, the festival lanterns cast warm light across their faces. Their hands brushed more often than not and each time it happened, Senku’s pulse jumped.
He wanted to reach for Gen’s hand. He really did. But he couldn’t stop the loop of overthinking. Was it too much? Too fast? Too obvious?
Then Gen just... did it. He slipped his fingers into Senku’s and gave them a gentle squeeze. That fuzzy, electric warmth came up again. Senku inhaled sharply.
“Stop overanalyzing things.” Gen murmured.
“I wasn’t.” Senku lied.
“Of course you weren’t.”
They wandered the lantern-lit paths, pausing here and there to look at stalls and games. A vendor’s men shouted about a goldfish scooping challenge and Gen dragged Senku into it.
Senku failed immediately.
“Who designed these nets? A ghost?” he complained. “Clearly no one consulted the laws of physics here.”
Gen scooped up two fish with ease and handed them both to a crying child nearby.
“That’s because you’re thinking like a scientist, not a goldfish.” he giggled.
Senku snorted. “Thanks. I’ll add that to my resume.”
They ate yakitori, then melonpan. Gen insisted on getting a fan shaped like a fox mask, then held it up in front of Senku’s face.
“It actually suits you.” He said quietly.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re enduring me anyway. Suspicious.”
People passed by, laughing and chattering. A few slowed. Senku caught someone whispering behind a hand. A girl looked straight at Gen, eyes wide.
Senku instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but Gen didn’t let go.
“Don’t you dare.” Gen said under his breath, his smile still easy but his grip tightening.
Senku hesitated. “People might recognize you.”
“Okay? Let them.”
“You’re a public figure, Gen. PR matters.”
“No. Not tonight.” Gen glanced sideways. “If there are rumors tomorrow, I’ll deal with them tomorrow.”
Senku studied his face. “You really don’t care?”
“I care that I’m with you right now. That’s enough.”
Senku didn’t have a response to that. Just heat blooming in his chest. A slow, unfamiliar ache.
They didn’t talk about the bond.
They didn’t have to.
It wasn’t important tonight.
They were just two boys, who liked each other, at a festival.
On a date, Senku thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He checked his watch.
Fifteen minutes until the fireworks. His thumb hovered over the frame of the watch for a second longer than necessary. He wasn’t just checking the time. He was grounding himself.
Again.
He looked to his left. Gen was finishing the last bite of melonpan with that dramatic little hum of delight that always sounded half performance, half real satisfaction. It made Senku’s throat tighten for no reason he could explain. He took a deep breath.
“Follow me, this way.” Senku finally said, voice low but steady.
Gen raised an eyebrow, brushing crumbs off his fingers. “Oh? Should I be concerned you’re leading me away from witnesses, Senku-chan?”
“I have a spot.” Senku muttered, his eyes on the dark path leading up behind the shrine.
“So it is a kidnapping.” Gen grinned. “Should I scream?”
“Scream and I’ll toss you over my shoulder like a sack of rice.” Senku shot back before he could stop himself.
The smirk that curved Gen’s lips felt like a small fire blooming between them. “How scandalous.”
Senku turned before his brain caught up with his heartbeat. What the hell am I saying??
They walked in silence. Lanterns grew fewer. Footsteps grew softer. The path curved, then opened wide onto higher ground. A small hill, where Tokyo shimmered below. Like a sea of light stretching to the horizon.
Senku stood still, taking another breath. You can do this. It’s just a hill. Just a festival. Just your soulmate beside you who looks far too good in that yukata and keeps leaning slightly closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He sat down on the grass quickly, before his thoughts could trip over themselves again.
Gen followed without a word, settling beside him. Close. Too close. Not close enough.
Then the first fireworks burst across the sky. Green and Purple. Orange and Magenta. A sun exploding into petals.
Gen leaned in instantly. His shoulder pressed against Senku’s. Then his head. Warmth bloomed at the point of contact and radiated through Senku’s chest like a circuit finally being completed.
It was electric. It was fuzzy. It was...
Like receiving a message on my skin. But ten billion times stronger.
Senku’s breath caught. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. His body was too aware of every centimeter of space Gen occupied. And every point he touched.
Gen sighed into his shoulder, voice barely audible over the next firework. “God, this is way better than I imagined.”
Senku turned his head slightly. Gen’s hair brushed against his cheek. “You imagined this?”
“Of course I did. You think I spent months talking to a faceless voice with the world’s driest sarcasm and didn’t think about what this moment might feel like?” He chuckled softly, but there was truth layered in it.
Senku stared ahead. His voice came out low. “It is?”
Gen answered without hesitation. “Yeah. Infinitely better.”
Another firework lit the sky. Then another.
“You know.” Gen said, still pressed into him “When you wrote to me after all those months... I was pissed. Like, properly pissed. I stared at my arm and I think I cursed you out loud. Twice.”
Senku flinched. He swallowed it down.
“But” Gen went on “I was also relieved. And so stupidly happy. Because even if it was with a rulebook and an emotional muzzle, it meant I hadn’t been wrong. That you existed. That you eventually wanted to reach out. That something could start someday.”
He pulled back just enough to look at Senku. The lantern light was caught in his eyes.
“You changed everything with one message. I needed you to know that. Thank you, Senku.”
Senku stared at him, heart punching against his ribs. He opened his mouth, closed it again.
Then, quietly he said “I never really apologized.”
Gen blinked. “For what?”
“For ignoring you. For not replying when you reached out first. For forcing my rules on you because I was too scared of what this might be.”
Gen smiled gently, and it wrecked Senku more than any anger ever could.
“It hurt. But... everything led to this moment. And I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy.”
His gaze drifted to the skyline, thoughtful.
“And the more I thought about it... the more I realized your rules weren’t so silly. They might’ve saved us. If we’d started with names, you might’ve judged me by the media rumors. And I don’t think you would’ve let yourself see past it.”
Senku didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just looked away, trying to breathe evenly through the noise in his chest.
Eventually, Gen stretched out on the grass. “Come on.” he said, patting the space beside him. “Let’s lie down before I start crying or something equally unmanly.”
Senku snorted under his breath. But he followed, lying beside Gen on the cool grass, eyes turning to the sky above them.
Gen shifted, his head resting lightly on Senku’s shoulder again. A perfect weight. The fireworks slowly faded.
They lay like this for a while. Close. Talking. Rambling about nonsense. Falling into silences that weren’t awkward, just full. The festival below them quieted. Just the stars remained.
It was sometime past midnight when Gen stirred. “Hey... um. Can I ask you something?”
Senku turned his head.
Gen tried again. “I mean, I don’t want to make it weird, but...”
Senku waited.
“...Can I kiss you?”
The words were small. Brave. Vulnerable.
Senku’s throat closed for a second.
“...Yes.”
Gen moved slow. So slow. Giving him space to stop it. But Senku didn’t move.
Their lips touched. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t dramatic. Just a connection. Real and honest.
And it hit Senku like a tidal wave.
Everything he’d been scared of, confused by, overwhelmed with, it crystallized in that kiss.
When they parted, Gen stayed close. Watching him with eyes that had seen through every mask.
Senku’s voice came out rough, unfiltered. “Do it again.”
Gen smiled.
And did.
★☆★
The festival grounds below them where nearly empty. Lanterns flickered out one by one, leaving only the gentle glow of stars overhead. Senku and Gen lay quietly on the hillside. For a long moment after their kisses, neither moved, as though they feared breaking the fragile spell of this new intimacy.
Gen eventually stirred, shifting slightly against Senku's shoulder, his voice soft and a little hesitant. "It's past midnight, huh? Guess we should probably head out soon."
Senku glanced at his watch, realizing how late it had become. He cleared his throat, the nervous flutter returning to his chest. "Yeah, you're probably right."
They stood slowly, brushing stray grass from their yukatas, the awkward silence returning heavier than before. As they reached the festival entrance, Senku glanced at the empty station nearby, checking his phone with a sinking feeling.
"Uhm..." Senku said, swallowing dryly. "Gen? Looks like the last train left almost half an hour ago."
Gen stopped abruptly, eyes widening in shock. "Wait, seriously? You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."
Senku shook his head, slightly flustered. "Wish I was. I guess time sort of... got away from us."
Gen threw his head back dramatically, sighing loudly. "Fantastic. I suppose it's either an overpriced Uber or wandering around looking for a hotel that isn't fully booked due to festival crowds. Not that I regret anything."
Senku hesitated, his heart suddenly pounding again. He glanced at Gen nervously, feeling the heat in his cheeks as he spoke. "My place isn't far. If you don't mind, you could... stay there tonight."
Gen turned to him, eyes wide with surprise. "Are you sure? I mean... I don't want to impose or anything."
Senku quickly shook his head, voice stumbling slightly. "You're not imposing. I'd actually... I'd prefer if you come with me."
Gen's expression softened, relief flickering across his face as he smiled gently. "Then I'd really like that."
The walk to Senku’s apartment was quiet and charged with unspoken nerves, shoulders occasionally brushing and sending small sparks through Senku's veins each time. His mind raced, replaying every moment of their evening. The gentle touches, the lingering warmth of Gen’s hand in his own, and especially the kisses, soft and real and unlike anything he'd experienced before.
When they finally reached Senku's apartment, he fumbled slightly with the key, heart racing again as he led Gen inside.
"It's uh... chaotic. Sorry. I'm not very good with keeping it visitor-friendly since my dad moved out."
Gen looked around curiously, his smile gentle. "I like it. It feels very much like you."
Senku's ears burned. "Thanks. I'll find you something to wear."
As Gen went to change in the bathroom, Senku arranged blankets and pillows on the couch, his mind still racing. The domesticity of the moment felt overwhelming, almost surreal. Soon Gen emerged, the oversized hoodie hanging loosely around him, making Senku’s chest tighten further.
"Everything okay?" Senku asked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
"Perfect." Gen replied softly, clearly flustered as well. "Thanks for letting me stay here. Goodnight, Senku."
"Goodnight." Senku echoed, slipping into his bedroom and closing the door carefully behind him. He lay in bed, eyes wide open, thoughts refusing to settle. His mind replayed every detail again. It felt impossible that after months of doubts and rules, he was here now, heart pounding in the quiet darkness, with Gen just a few meters away. He missed him already, the closeness. It seemed silly, almost ridiculous to feel this way. Yet, the pull toward Gen was undeniable, comforting and thrilling and utterly terrifying all at once.
★☆★
After nearly an hour of restless tossing and turning, Senku felt the faintest tingling on his hand again. He glanced down and saw a small heart drawn just under his thumb. Then another appeared, drawn slow and deliberate. He realized Gen must still be awake.
He lingered on the edge of his bed, debating. Don’t cross a line. Don’t make him uncomfortable. But curiosity, and something warmer, pushed him out of bed in the end. He padded quietly into the living room and found Gen sitting cross-legged on the couch, the pen still in his hand.
“Can’t sleep?” Senku asked.
Gen gave a small shrug, eyes tired but open. “My mind’s not good at letting go of nights like this. They take time to settle. I didn’t mean to wake you with the doodles, sorry.”
Senku hesitated, his voice softer than usual. “Would it... help, if you stayed in my room? Join me. Just... to rest. If that’s okay?”
Gen blinked in surprise, then smiled, warmer this time. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They walked side by side toward the bedroom. Senku kept telling himself it was nothing, just sharing space, just sleep. But the quickened beat in his chest disagreed. He couldn’t name it, but it was huge.
They slipped under Senku’s blanket together, their hands finding each other almost immediately. A calmness settled between them, steady and quiet. Gen shifted closer until their bodies touched. Senku instinctively wrapped his arm around him.
For a while, neither of them spoke, the quiet stretching comfortably between them until Gen’s voice finally broke it.
“This is dangerous.” Gen said softly.
“Hm? In what way?”
“In the way that makes me want to keep doing it. Because I think I could really get used to falling asleep like this.”
Senku’s throat worked. “Then maybe we should.”
Gen’s lips curved into a sleepy smile. “Yeah. We should.”
Gen had already drifted off, still close enough that Senku could feel the steady beat of his heart. Senku held him a little tighter, staring into the dark. He kept his gaze on the ceiling, not trusting himself to look away. The quiet wrapped around them, warm and certain, but his thoughts refused to slow. Every small shift, every shared breath replayed in his mind until it was almost too much. He tried to steady his breathing, to pull his focus back, but the truth kept pressing in, louder now, impossible to ignore.
He was in love.
It was simple. It was inevitable. And for once, he let it stay, let it fill him instead of resisting. When his heartbeat finally matched Gen’s, he closed his eyes, holding onto the warmth like it was the only thing that mattered, and let sleep take him.