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The sharp, sudden impact with the ground curses Senku awake. Air gets sucked out of his lungs, his whole body vibrates in pain, and black dots draw constellations in the gray dawn sky. What the fuck happened?, Senku closes his eyes, what the fuck?
He was sleeping on the branch of a tree. The hut was too hot and Chrome’s snoring too loud, and Senku needed a decent night of sleep after all the all-nighters pulled for the Perseus. Japanese summers are too warm and humid even after more than three thousand and seven hundred years, and it seemed a good idea to go to the forest and look for a better place to sleep.
Only that, of fucking course, Senku forgot to tie himself to the branch. Stupid, you’re so fucking stupid and you want people to rely on you?, and now he’s on the ground, breathless, and he fucking needs to move before the others wake up and notice his absence. It’s still sunrise, he has plenty of time to go back to his hut and start working on the project for the ship.
Yet, first of all, he needs to check if he has something broken– it’s more like checking what it’s broken because he’s ten billion percent sure not to be all good after such a fall. And a breather, he needs to take a breather because his lungs are burning for the lack of oxygen and it’s so fucking easy to breathe and you can’t do it?
Just a breather. It comes out in the form of a wheeze and it hurts . It hurts. Hell. Senku can’t breathe because it hurts, and coughing only hurts more. He curls up on himself (good, a part of his mind takes note, it means he didn’t hurt his back, he can still move his body) and wheezes louder, strange noises coming out in the air but everything’s fine as long as some fucking oxygen gets in his lungs.
It must be the ribs, then. Slowly, slowly yet not enough for it not to hurt, Senku begins to touch his chest, his back, glad to have such a thin body that gives better access to his bones, and his vision goes black the moment his fingers lay on the left part of his rib cage. Two of them. Falling from the tree like the stupid he is, Senku broke two of his ribs.
It’s not that bad, he concludes, it could’ve been worse. A hand runs through his hair, wet, dirtied by blood. And, now that the adrenaline is running down, he realizes that his left arm is hurting too, though this might be a bigger issue: the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth as he keeps quiet while examining his bones, and, hell, his radius seems broken.
He can’t wear a cast, Senku bites down a whimper. A cast will slow him down with the work as he can’t do much with only one hand; furthermore, it will highlight that Senku has been hurt, and others do not have to know even one millimeter of what happened. What the hell can he do?
One thing at a time. Now, he needs to go back before the others wake up and, to do so, he needs to stand and walk, and wash his hair as well, because plenty of people will notice the blood on it and ask questions. He will handle the rest later, mainly how to hide his injuries rather than take proper care of them, but first, he needs to stand up and walk.
It’s fine. He lifts himself up, putting the weight on his right arm, but a pang in his chest cuts off his breath, and his legs fail before he can reach the closest tree. It hurts. He’s bent on himself, knees on the ground, arms wrapped protectively around his body. It hurts. His head spins, confused dots gather before his eyes. It hurts. He can’t lose consciousness. It hurts, he needs to breathe and it hurts.
Stand up. Stand up, his mind scolds him. Now that you know how it feels like, stand up, or you’ll be late, and the others will ask questions. Stand up.
Alright. I’ll do it. Senku gets up, left arm moving first, and bites his tongue until it bleeds just to keep quiet. It’s just some broken bones, he stumbles forward, and it’s pure coincidence if he doesn’t fall another time. Every step reverberates in his body and amplifies the pain, taking his breath away and making his thoughts heavier.
He feels nauseous, and he’s shaking. Did he hit his head so hard that he got a concussion? Damn, this isn’t good at all. He doesn’t have time to rest. One thing at the time, let’s go back. Normally, it takes less than nine hundred seconds to get from the new village to the area he chose for sleep; today, including the stop at the river to get the blood out of his hair and face, stumbling on every tree and stopping to balance his steps, it takes more than twice the amount of time.
But luckily, most of the people are still asleep, and nobody is around to see Senku’s tired figure and strained face. Nobody is around when he rushes away to throw up because the nausea has gotten worse, nor when he finally looks for water.
Broken ribs heal on an average of six weeks, he considers , finally back in the hut. Chrome is still asleep, and Ukyo’s absence means the latter hasn’t heard his misadventures. Six weeks. Three million six hundred twenty-eight thousand eight hundred seconds, more or less. It’s not a long period of time, Senku smiles. He can do it. He can hide his injuries for six weeks.
He has to do it. He can’t burden his friends. Stupid. Yes, he won’t burden his friends.
~
Sixteen days later (more than one million three hundred eighty-two thousand four hundred seconds later), Senku believes to have found his balance. Yes, every movement hurts like hell and he’s been slower than usual at his job, which turned out in a crazy series of all-nighters, eight in the last fourteen days, but he has found his balance.
He keeps his breath under control around Ukyo, looks for Taiju if he comes across any kind of physical labor, and spends the nights in the new lab so that Chrome won’t hear his pained hisses and struggles, won’t notice his slower movements and sweaty forehead. He has everything under control. Even if the bandages around his left arm increased in number and are tighter than before. Even if his left thigh is still bruised, and he has difficulty walking, and the area of his broken ribs is all red and swallowed. Even if he is ten billion percent sure to be running a fever.
He has found his balance. The construction of the Perseus is going forward just like his schedule predicted, and Ryūsui is happy with it, saying over and over that he wants to steer it and take them everywhere, which is more than Senku hoped for. Everyone is happy and he has found his balance, even if he can’t sleep to keep up with the work and his whole body shakes against his wishes.
He still has more than two million and two hundred forty-six seconds to live before his ribs heal. Before he can get a decent night of sleep and finish his work on schedule and stop being such a fucking inconvenience to his friends. He can do it.
Except that, really, he can’t.
Right now, Chrome is leading a small group to a strange cave he just discovered while going on a walk. It’s the two of them, Gen, because he wanted to break free from his work with Kaseki, and Taiju in case they need someone strong. And of course, Ryūsui, because he wanted to go on adventure and insisted on taking Ukyo with them, so we can be safe from danger.
Under the hot sun at the highest point in the sky, Senku would already be out of breath on a normal day, but this is too much. His heart is running miles between the hot weather, the fever, and the fatigue of the excursion, and he can only count on the loud voices of the others to hide his ragged breath.
Focus on walking, stupid. You’re far behind them. But the mountain path is scattered with rocks and fallen branches and roots that make it asperous, and the smallest irregularity under his feet causes his body to flinch in pain. You shouldn’t have come with them, and Senku tried, he tried to turn down Chrome’s invitation just to be met with a sad, questioning look and decided to do it despite his poor physical condition because these people would give their life for you and you can’t go hiking with them?
The others are laughing at something Senku couldn’t catch. Good, but his steps should be faster otherwise, he will slow them down. He can do it, just a few hours and he’ll be back in the lab, alone, finally able to rest.
“Senku!” Taiju has stopped and is stretching out an arm in his direction. “Here, I always forget how poorly you deal with physical exercise.”
“It’s not poor, you… you big oaf,” Senku jokes, strained words that barely go past his lips. “It’s utterly terrible.”
Taiju laughs and, once Senku gets closer, he wraps his fingers around the shorter’s left arm and drags him to his side. Hell. Senku bites the inner part of his cheek. Fuck. His vision goes black. Breathe, it’s just your arm. Breathe and keep walking.
“Pay attention guys, it’s slippery over there!” Chrome shouts in the distance, meaningless words that reach Senku’s ears through layers of water.
“You’re so funny, Senku!” Taiju replies. “You’re a genius, but you’re as small as a chick. Yes, just like a chick!” He repeats and, to reiterate his statement, he elbows at Senku’s side.
His left side. Exactly over his broken ribs. And Taiju is always careful to dose his strength when he’s around Senku, he has always valued Senku way, way more than he should’ve done, and Senku doesn’t want to scream, he doesn’t want to react because it’s not Taiju’s fault and Taiju doesn’t know otherwise, he would’ve paid attention. But his broken ribs throb with pain, and Senku lets out a shriek.
His legs fail. His feet stumble and lose balance upon the rocks. His throat clutches around the last gasps of air, and Senku rolls down the slope, unable to stop. Somehow, he manages to wrap his arms around his chest, trying to protect himself from the impact.
Senku! Someone screams his name. Senku! Other voices he can’t match.
Get up, you stupid. Get up. Get up! The world is spinning around him, and shapes and colors are nothing but dizzy details. It hurts. It hurts too much and breaths come out in strangled noises and it hurts but he needs to get up. Use your legs, you fool. Do you want to burden your friends?
His legs. His legs are shaking, and Senku barely registers a second impact with the ground. His ribs throb at the same rhythm as his heart, far too loud and fast, echoing in his head. Just a deep breath and you’ll get up. He tries again.
For fuck’s sake, don’t move! Hurry up!
His mouth tastes like blood and vomit (did he throw up?), and bile rises in his throat when someone scoops him in their arms. Taiju, somewhere, his mind supplies for him, it must be Taiju because, even if he’s not the only one strong enough to carry Senku back to the hut, he’s always the first to move when it comes to his pathetic best friend.
It’s all good now, buddy. Fuck, he’s burning up! Every sound causes a pang in his head, waves of nausea clutching at his throat.
I need to throw up. Louder, use your fucking voice. “I need to throw up.”
The movement stops. “Okay, buddy, okay.” Senku cries in pain as Taiju maneuvers him.
I need to throw up. Blood and spit ooze from his lips, Senku can’t help it, he doesn’t even know where Taiju is, where the others are, and shakes and cries as he throws up instead of getting up and acting as if nothing happened. Easy, buddy, easy. It’s gonna be fine, hands moving his unresponsive body, it’s gonna be fine.
Senku drifts in and out from unconsciousness on the way back home. His head spins and his eyes are too heavy to keep them open, but everything hurts so much that he can’t even find solace in sleeping. Rather, he’s sure he passed out a couple of times, and it’s hard to keep his eyes open once they’re back in the hut.
“Senku, can you tell us what happened?” “I think he broke his ribs, judging by how he breathes.” “By falling from the slope? It didn’t seem such a bad fall.”
“Not today.” His voice is hoarse, his mouth has gone dry. He squints his eyes, the room is way too bright for his liking. “Two weeks ago. Fell from a tree.”
Scoldings and reprimands echo around him with no real meaning. Why are they screaming? Why are they angry? The room spins, and Senku gets hit by another wave of nausea. His chest throbs, and he feels hot, way too hot.
“And what else?” A cold hand on his cheek. Gen. Senku opens his eyes. At least he recognizes Gen’s voice, and focusing on his gray eyes is the best choice for his sickness. “You need to tell us everything, Senku- chan .”
“My left arm. Broke too. And…” words leave his mind and come back after seconds of emptiness . “Been running a fever for a few days. Nothing I can’t handle.”
You’re scorching, Senku. This is not just fever. We need to lower his temperature, or things may get worse. Cold water, we need a huge amount of the coldest water we can find.
“No… no cold baths.” He coughs, wails in pain as the ribs protest for the movement, and curls on himself. The room spins. “Might…” might cause a shock. “Shock.” He can’t say much else.
Get up. Get up and stop being a burden. Senku, don’t move! It hurts, he whimpers. It hurts it hurts it hurts. Senku!
This time, he opens his eyes and gets welcomed by Ryūsui’s worried frown close to his face, a firm hold on his cheeks. “Has nobody told you that passing out during a meeting is quite rude?” He jokes, but his voice doesn’t sound steady. Maybe it’s just Senku’s hearing. “I want you to talk to me. No baths, then what?”
Right. His high fever. “Wet cloth,” he whispers. “Works… works for the… the ribs, too.”
“Got it. Anything else?” The Perseus. You can’t rest. Get up, get up, stupid! “Senku, hey, easy. You’re not going anywhere.”
“The ship.” I need to work on it. Can’t leave you behind. Can’t burden you with my job. “Projects… the desk… need to, need to–”
“Senku?” Taiju? “Buddy, why don’t you close your eyes?”
Pressure gets applied to the empty space between Senku’s eyebrows, and the guy lets out a pained whine. It must be Taiju, ten billion percent sure. This is an old trick Byakuya would use whenever Senku couldn’t sleep as a kid, to gently caress and touch the smooth area between his eyebrows, and his old man taught Taiju before leaving for America. “Because I know you’ll take great care of my son,” Byakuya said with a smile.
“It doesn’t weigh on your shoulders alone, Senku,” Taiju murmurs while moving his thumb. Up and down, up and down. “You’re not burdening anyone, do you get it? You’re not a burden, buddy, you’ll never be a burden.
“I need you to sleep, Senku. Do you remember in middle school, when you couldn’t sleep for three days in a row and I freaked out? I’m even more worried right now. Damn, it feels like you’re the stupid between us, and you’re supposed to be smart. The smartest person I’ve ever known.
“It’s okay to let go, buddy. It’s okay to sleep. You’re in good hands, leave it to us.”
Leave it to us. “I…” thoughts are becoming slower and slower. “Chrome,” he calls out.
Among his projects, among the papers scattered on his desk, Senku has made a roadmap to painkillers but didn’t have the time to make them on his own. He should’ve done them, though, he should’ve put in another all-nighter but he didn’t, of course he didn’t and now he will burden the others because he’s so fucking weak and lazy and everyone is counting on you, so get up you stupid!
He tries, he tries to get up once again but hands clutch his shoulders. “Don’t move, Senku. Don’t fucking move.”
“Chrome,” he calls again because Chrome wouldn’t curse. “There” he points at his desk, or at least tries to “painkillers. Make it for me?”
“Of course, Senku! You’ll have them before sunset!”
“Old man will help.” His mind tickles: putting Chrome and his father in the same room sounds strange, but why? Could it be that his father has yet to meet one of Senku’s closest friends? How so?
“Byakuya will help,” he repeats. But why isn’t Byakuya next to him? “Knows high fever.” Because Senku already suffered from hyperpyrexia when he was a kid, and Byakuya almost took him to the hospital, scared for his well-being. “Knows painkillers… where… where’s dad?”
Senku turns his head from one side to another. Where is Byakuya? Old man? He calls, but why isn’t he in the room with him? He knows Senku’s scared of sickness, he knows Senku gets scared over the smallest cold, so why isn’t Byakuya by his side? He needs to look for him, he needs to find him and make sure he’s okay because Byakuya knows what to do, but why can’t he get up? Why does everything hurt?
I’m gonna call him for you, Senku- chan . Here, stay there and don’t move, I’m begging you. I’ll wake you up when your father’s here. Sleep; for now, think about resting. If anything, Senku would have loved to see his father’s face before being dragged into darkness.
~
When Senku opens his eyes, the hut is dark, the shapes of furniture softly lightened by the moonless sky, but Chrome’s loud snoring contrasts with the quietness of the night. Turning his head to look for his friend, Senku attests two things: his nausea incredibly decreased, and Chrome is not the only one in the room.
“Oh, you’re finally awake, my dear Senku!” Somehow, Gen manages to keep his chirpy tone even while whispering, and he slides closer to Senku’s side with a swift movement. “How are you feeling?”
How is he feeling? Good, that’s the answer, but, instead of voicing it in a hurry, the guy takes one moment to check his body.
For instance, he doesn’t feel as dangerously hot as before, and his heart is beating to a slower rhythm, so his fever must be lowered. Nausea has gone and has taken with it the sharp headache of the last few days. The bandages around his left arm seem clean, tighter and heavier than Senku’s rough treatment, and– and breathing doesn’t cause endless waves of pain in his body.
“Good.” His voice is drowsy, his mouth is still dry, and the word tastes strange on his tongue. “Good, I guess.”
“I’ll grab some water. It’s gonna take a minute.” Ukyo. Senku didn’t notice him, and the elder appears in his visual field with a smile on his face. “Glad to see you’re finally awake,” he adds before leaving the room.
Focusing back on Gen, Senku notices another familiar shape in the shadows. “I’m ten billion percent sure I didn’t need all this surveillance,” he cracks out a joke.
“I don’t know what you mean, Senku.” And Gen’s cold response states that, well, this is definitely not the right time to play dumb. “It was my turn to watch you tonight, but Ukyo wouldn’t leave because your breathing sounded like shit. Do you get it? He’s been here checking your breath ever since you passed out.
“And Taiju decided to spend all his nights here until you wake up. Chrome fell asleep on the desk while trying to decipher your awful writing, and Ryūsui…” Gen trails down, but a smile softens his features. “He’s been working really hard on the Perseus, you know? He came here to check on you and dozed off, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him up.
“You don’t need this much surveillance, that’s for sure, but we’ve been terrified about your conditions,” Gen concludes, his voice quivers.
And Senku’s chest tightens until tears form in his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It wasn’t that bad?! You–” Gen stops, words too loud, and takes a deep breath. “You’re just so fucking stupid, Senku.”
“Someone’s mad.”
“I’m fuming.” Gen’s voice has never been so serious and authoritative, and Senku has rarely been scolded by Byakuya, but the uneasy feeling spreading in his body is the same that he experienced under his father’s gaze.
“You’ve been out for three days. Not one, not two, but three damned days, and for a moment we thought you wouldn’t have made it. You spent the first night wheezing, those sounds weren’t even proper breaths!
“Hell,” he stops, clenching his fists, and only now Senku notices that Gen’s whole body is shaking. “We gave you painkillers every six hours. Chrome and Ryūsui came up with something similar to fever medication and you barely responded to us when we forced you to take them. You… you were delirious. The fever was so bad that you asked for your father. You told Chrome that Byakuya would’ve helped him. Do you get it? Can you imagine how scared we’ve been?”
Oh. Did he really ask for his old man? Yet, it’s been a long time since Byakuya died, he grimaces. Logically, asking for his father was useless, he would’ve never appeared at his side, no matter how scared Senku was, and the hollow in his chest expands.
“I didn’t… didn’t want to make you worried,” he mutters. “I didn’t… didn’t think it was worth it.”
“You’re so stupid.” Gen’s voice is once again low and soft, even though Senku is sure that the others have woken up by now. “You won’t escape my personal take on this, but I’ll let you rest for tonight.”
Ukyo makes his appearance as Gen’s syllables get lost in the silence. Of course, he listened to everything but preferred to leave the two of them alone for their conversation. “Can you sit by yourself?” he asks instead. “Here, let me help you.”
Senku grits his teeth, waiting for the wave of sharp pain to take away his breath, and breathes out almost too slowly when it doesn’t happen. Right: based on what Gen told him, he’s high on painkillers, so it makes sense not to feel any kind of pain, and even the dizziness dies down as he drinks water in little sips.
Sitting in silence under Gen’s and Ukyo’s scrutinizing gaze, Senku becomes aware of some other interesting details. He’s shirtless, probably to give better access to his injuries, but most importantly, his body doesn’t feel all sweaty and clammy as you could expect after days of fever. Running a hand through his hair, Senku finds out it’s not as sticky and dirty as he imagined.
“Taiju decided to shower you this afternoon,” Gen answers his mute question. “He said you would’ve really killed us if we didn’t think about changing bedsheets and keeping you all clean,” he chuckles, and Ukyo seems amused by Taiju’s antics as well. “He’s really a good one, uh?”
Way more than I deserve. Senku lowers his eyes to the cup of water, looking for more suitable words to pronounce without getting both Gen and Ukyo even angrier at him. “He is. Ten billion percent he is.” He manages to say in the end.
“Maybe we should go back to sleep, or actually go to sleep.” Tomorrow, Senku will make a list of reasons why to thank Ukyo, and this other intervention of his will appear at the top. “I’m sure we’ll all sleep more peacefully now that we know Senku’s fine, am I wrong?”
Such a subtle way to say that everyone else is awake and has eavesdropped everything. Senku chuckles: now that it doesn’t hurt, pretending to be fine is easier, and yet, yet he can’t suppress the longing pain that clutches his heart.
“I’m sorry, guys.” Asking for forgiveness comes more manageable like, with half of the people faking to be asleep. “I’m sorry I put you in so much trouble, I should’ve–”
“Enough, Senku- chan ,” Gen cuts him off with another one of his smiles. “That’s what friends are made for. To rely on them.”
To rely on them. When Senku closes his eyes, lighter is the darkness that surrounds him.