Chapter Text
Senku can't describe the emotions he feels as he sinks down onto the small couch in Kaseki's office.
Sadness isn't quite it. Regret, maybe?
Emptiness?
Gen had been missing parts for four months. His internal circuits had been damaged, and pieces of him were fractured. How had all that even happened?? When had Gen gotten damaged so badly??
Had Senku been so aloof and detached that he hadn't even noticed Gen had been so injured? Had he made Gen so afraid of him in that first month that Gen would rather walk around broken and missing parts than tell Senku that he'd been injured?
Kaseki and Chrome have been working for nearly half an hour, but Kaseki says he'll still need another hour, at least, to fix everything. Kohaku and Ruri had managed to get everyone else to leave, allowing Senku to wait in the empty observatory/office by himself.
He watches Kaseki and Chrome mess with Gen's lifeless body for a long minute, their hands buried in his stomach and chest cavities, sparks flying occasionally as they work. Gen doesn't move even one millimeter.
When they pull out a third broken part, Senku has to turn away. He pulls his phone out and opens up his work files, determined to throw himself into his work if nothing else...
Because he can't watch them any longer.
-
"Should we scrap Gen?"
Senku looks up from his phone wide eyed. "What??"
"Not completely, I mean!" Chrome hurries to assure, whirling around in the small desk chair. "Just... just his emotional capabilities." he finishes lamely. Senku blinks, unsure what to say to that. Chrome had come in only a few minutes ago, going straight to the computers to adjust and tweak settings and programming.
"Gramps and I... we didn't think about the potential repercussions of giving an AI free will like that. We didn't think he would ever fall for you." He hesitates. "I never thought you would fall for him."
"I didn't think I would either," Senku murmurs.
"We can adjust his programming- take out the chip and tweak his settings. It'll take a day or so, but we can make him a regular AI. In terms of abilities, he'll be more like Francois."
Senku wonders if he should say yes.
If he should tell Chrome to make Gen just a regular robot, so there will be absolutely no chance of Senku fucking it up this time. He wouldn't have to worry about hurting Gen's feelings or tiptoe-ing around things. It would really be just like having a voice controlled home device.
But Senku doesn't want that.
"No," Senku says slowly, frowning at the floor.
"You're sure..?" Chrome asks again.
"I'm sure," Senku nods, thumb rubbing idly along the side of his phone case. "He might not remember me, or the time we spent together, but he deserves better."
"Senku…"
Senku takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "I was a shitty owner, but he still fell in love with me anyways. He deserves to fall in love with someone who hasn't treated him like a servant for half his life."
He knows there's a possibility that Gen won't feel the same things for him again. He knows there's a possibility that he could make things worse in the end, and maybe he is being cruel by not telling Kaseki and Chrome to take away the ability to feel and think for himself… but Senku wants a second chance.
Just one more.
---
“Shh, shh! He’s waking up!”
Gen blinks against the glare of the bright lights above him.
“Gen?” The AI turns his head to look at the old craftsman beside the table. “How are you feeling?” Gen hums as he sits up, ignoring the others in the room for now to focus on scanning his own body.
“All systems appear to be fully operational.” He stretches his arms above his head, wiggles his fingers and toes, and swings his legs over the edge of the table so he can stand. “All appendages are moving properly- ah,” he huffs a small laugh when he notices the open panel on his stomach, “Kaseki-sama, may I..?” He motions to the bare circuits.
“Oh, right!” Chrome quickly moves forward to slide the plate shut. Gen runs his fingers over his bare stomach, marveling at how the edges of the panel seem to just disappear into his body.
“Gen?”
“Ah!” He looks up with a soft smile and folds his hands behind his back. “Everything is in tip-top shape, Kaseki-sama!” Kaseki nods, brows still creased in concern. Gen finally looks around at the other faces in the room, most of them already listed in his facial registry. One sticks out to him though.
“You must be Senku-chan!” the scientist startles. “It’s nice to meet you, Senku-chan. It seems like I’ll be in your care from now on, so please treat me kindly.” He bows respectfully, unable to read the tense atmosphere blanketing the room. When he straightens up, Senku’s smile seems… strained.
“Mm, likewise,” Senku replies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I look forward to working with you.”
---
Three Months Later
"And I'm telling you, there's no way that wasn't faked!" Senku laughs, holding the door to Kaseki’s lab open for Gen.
"You just have zero imagination, Senku-chan, and it's saddening," Gen clicks his tongue, nose upturned in mock disgust. Senku rolls his eyes, smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. Kaseki chuckles, fiddling with the wires and equipment on the other side of the room.
“Seems like you boys are in good spirits today. To what do I owe this surprise visit?” He dusts his hands off with a smile as he turns to face the pair.
“Just here for a check up, if you have time?" Senku says, resting against the doorframe.
"Of course!" Kaseki agrees immediately, motioning to the workbench-turned exam table in the middle of the room. "Is something wrong??"
"Senku-chan is just a worry wart," Gen rolls his eyes, slim fingers slipping under his tank top and removing it with ease before hopping up onto the exam table. He sets the dark blue shirt on the table beside him as he lies back, exposing his stomach for Kaseki to prod as he likes. "I tripped today, and might have fallen down a couple stairs-"
"Five stairs," Senku butts in, frowning down at Gen. "It's more than nothing-"
"I'm not a human, Senku," Gen sighs, closing his eyes as Kaseki presses the release for his stomach panel. "I'm a hunk of wires and circuitry-"
"I don't care if you're a human or not." Senku says seriously. "You can still be injured just as easily, if not more so, than a human, and I don't ever want to have to-" he stops abruptly. Though Kaseki tries to pretend he isn't paying attention as he hooks Gen to the monitors and machines and pokes around inside his body cavities, Gen is staring at Senku intently.
He knows he's been factory reset before.
He knows he spent five months living with Senku before he woke up here again just three months ago.
But he doesn't remember any of it.
He desperately wishes he could.
There are photos of him, from back before the reset. Photos of him and Senku, and all their friends. There are videos, too, and Gen loves to watch them on replay. The Gen he sees there feels like someone completely different.
He feels no emotions when he watches the videos or scrolls through photos others send him. Well, aside from longing, if that counts. He feels left out, too. He feels pressured. He feels so much pressure to be the AI everyone knew before, but Gen doesn't know that he can be.
He wants to be, though.
He wants to be the AI that so lovingly looked over Senku's shoulder as he held Yuzuriha's newborn. He wants to be the AI that ate snow while trying to ski and hand fed Senku yogurt and did magic acts just randomly because he wanted to.
But Gen has no fucking clue how to be that AI. Every time the past is brought up, Gen becomes hesitant. He becomes unsure and uncomfortable, and it must be obvious, because everyone avoids talking about it around him like the plague.
Especially Senku.
Gen has no idea what their relationship was like before the reset.
Sometimes… sometimes he thinks maybe there was something more to them. When Senku comes up behind him or beside him and Gen can feel Senku's hand hesitate behind him- hovering over his back or his head, he wonders if it used to be second nature. When Senku has to take a step back after standing "too close" for a minute as they talk, Gen wonders if maybe that level of intimacy had been where they were before. When Senku's knuckles brush his as they walk home, or when Senku hesitates at his bedroom door before bed or when he just smiles in that way while he thinks Gen isn't paying attention to anything-
But none of their photos or videos show them as anything more. It's all chaste and innocent; master and servant relationship stuff.
And Gen just-
He just can't make himself ask. He wants to know… but he then again, he doesn't.
"...I'm gonna go check the monitors," Senku says, changing the subject entirely after a long, silent moment. Gen watches him leave, exhaling heavily once the door closes behind him, and throws an arm over his eyes.
Will he ever be better than the Gen he once was? Will Senku ever look at him without seeing Gen?
He doesn't even make any sense now, does he?
"Forgive him," Kaseki says quietly, hands stilling inside Gen. "He feels so many things, but he never quite learned how to express how he feels. He cares greatly for you, Gen."
"The me now, or the me from then?" Gen mutters without meaning to. He tenses the second the words have passed his lips, a sour feeling settling in the pit of his non-existent stomach.
"Both, Dear," Kaseki says softly. Gen shifts his arm off his eyes just far enough to watch Kaseki as he stares down at Gen, a soft smile on his face. "You don't remember it, but he wasn't very kind to you back then. He regrets it more than you could ever know. He's trying to do better this time around; to be a better master... to be a better friend to you. But Senku has always been a little awkward." Kaseki chuckles.
"Give him a little more time," the man pats Gen's arm soothingly. "It's only been three months. He'll get there."
---
Senku lingers in the hallway for a few extra seconds, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths before stepping into the lab and taking a seat at the computer desk. Through the glass he can see Kaseki talking quietly with Gen as he gives the AI a complete examination.
Gen isn't wrong: Senku is being overly cautious.
It was a simple fall on the way out of the college- just a basic tumble down the stairs. If he'd been human, there probably would have been some bruising and scraped knees, but nothing too bad. For a robot of Gen's caliber, it would be even less of a problem.
But Senku still doesn't even know how Gen damaged himself so badly in the first place. He's figured out that it must have been during the night he kicked Gen out, but the source of the damages is still unknown, and without Gen's memory, Senku might never know what really happened that night.
He tries not to think about the past, honestly. He tries to think of starting over with Gen as starting over. He treats their relationship like it's new- like those five months were with someone completely different- and it works well for them.
But Senku had gotten so used to the casual touches and brushes. The low level of intimacy that apparently surrounded them, and he's constantly having to readjust his stance or body language. Having to watch his words. He feels hesitant, unsure how far he can push before Gen pushes him away.
Because now he knows Gen has feelings.
Gen, for all intents and purposes, is almost human, and Senku intends to treat him like such.
But dealing with other "humans" is so much more stressful than dealing with equations and computers.
"Senku-kun?" Kaseki’s voice has Senku sitting up straighter in the office chair and whirling to look out the window at the pair below him. "I don't see any damages to Gen's hardware, but he's fully connected if you'd like to take a look at his software up there."
Senku hesitates, finger over the intercom button.
He knows he's being overbearing… but he can't help it.
He never, ever wants to have to witness Gen that desperate and terrified again.
He presses the black button. "Yeah, I'll have a quick look." Kaseki nods and returns his attention to Gen as they continue their quiet conversation. Senku kicks away from the control panels and rolls to a stop at the other end of the large work space, in front of Chrome's multi-screen set up. Lines of code fill one screen, expanding continuously, and a second contains several graphs and charts measuring Gen's internal data: Memory Storage, Core Temperature, Processing Speed.
A third screen, though, has everything laid out in a nice, simple format, very reminiscent of a cell phone filing system, making it easy to poke around in each individual file instead of searching through lines of coding for potential problems. That's not to say Senku would be able to find a problem without looking at the code- that would be Chrome's area of expertise.
But so far, all the readings look normal, and Senku knows Gen was right: he was being ridiculous and paranoid over nothing. With a sigh he flops back in the office chair, watching the live readings fluctuate just the smallest bit as Gen talks with Kaseki. There aren't any major changes, but it really reinforces the thought that Gen is his own being as opposed to just an accessory or robotic assistant.
Senku begins clicking through the folders on the third screen, skimming over file names, making sure nothing that should be there is missing, but he stops a couple files in, brows furrowing in confusion as he finds an unlabeled file.
There shouldn't be any of those, especially not in his main programming.
Senku clicks on it, unease beginning to creep into his mind, only worsening when he finds another empty file inside. And inside that one is another. He half expects a fourth empty file when he clicks on the third embedded file, but his breath catches when he sees a video file.
Is it… a virus..? Had Gen gotten infected somewhere..?
Senku presses the intercom button, eyes lingering on the screen. "Kaseki, I found an unknown file inside some of Gen's main programming." He turns to look out the window and his heart squeezes at Gen's shocked expression. "Should I open it?" Kaseki frowns thoughtfully, brows furrowing.
"Yes, quickly. If something happens…" he trails off and Senku nods. He knows where the main shut off is. If it should be a virus, he'll have to quickly shut everything down to prevent contaminating the rest of the systems. Finger hovering over the shut off button, Senku clicks on the video file.
It's… It's him? Sleeping..?
Senku frowns, confused.
From the surroundings, it isn't his own room. Ryusui's guest room… maybe? A familiar hand comes into view on the camera- Gen's hand- and suddenly Senku understands.
He's watching from Gen's point of view.
This is a recording of one of Gen's memories.
The video only lasts a few seconds, ending just after Gen closes his hand and rests it between them, and Senku plays it again. He swallows hard. "What..?"
"Senku?" Kaseki’s voice makes Senku finally look up from the screen. Gen and Kaseki are both watching him with concern and apprehension.
"Sorry," Senku says, backing out of the file. "It uh. It wasn't anything dangerous. I'm gonna keep looking through the files though, just to be safe."
He doesn't wait for Kaseki’s slow nod of confirmation before sliding back over to the screen and quickly clicking through the rest of Gen's files, eyes flitting back and forth across the screen, searching for more nameless files.
There are tons of them. Twenty eight in total, if Senku is counting correctly.
There's one of Senku in the shower, water sluicing down his body as he works the shampoo in his hair up to a lather.
One of him half asleep, squinting at a computer screen, energy drink in hand and blanket draped over his shoulders.
In some of them, Gen talks, but most are just a few seconds of Senku just- existing.
He stumbles upon one clip that he has to close immediately and look around the room just to make sure he's alone before opening it again.
It's him, covered in sweat, hair hanging loose around their faces. His lip is curled in a snarl, eyes clenched shut tightly, and it's more than a little obvious what they're doing from sight alone, but the low grunts he lets out and the breathy cries that push past Gen's lips leave zero room for interpretation. "Gen," he breathes on screen, lips brushing Gen's anklet, and Senku knows exactly when this one was.
"What are you doing?" Gen laughs, careful not to drop the spatula in his hand. He looks further down, Senku's hands around his waist coming into view.
"Nothing," Senku says. "Just wanted to see how much longer until dinner was ready."
The last video is another of him in bed, bare save for the sheet at his waist, sleeping. His lips are parted just slightly as he breathes, Gen's hand held loosely in his own. "I'll never forget this night, Senku-chan," Gen whispers softly. "I'll never forget any of them… because I love you more than I could ever put into words." Gen moves closer, presses a kiss to the back of Senku's hand, and the video stops.
Senku's heart aches as he backs out of everything. He takes a few deep, steadying breaths before pressing the intercom button once more. "Everything's fine here too."
---
"Are you okay, Senku-chan?" Gen asks as they start out of the lab. He's not sure what it is, but Senku seems off. He has ever since he found that unknown file inside Gen- which, speaking of, Senku hasn't said anything else about the file since then.
It's more than a little odd.
Gen isn't expecting Senku to stop walking in the middle of the hallway, but he quickly jerks to a stop beside the scientist and watches him as Senku frowns at nothing in front of them.
"Gen," he turns to face the AI, "I love you." Gen blinks, hit completely out of left field by Senku's words. "You lost all your memories of our time together, but I didn't. I know that just because you're the same person, it doesn't mean you'll feel the same way about me or anyone else, so I've been trying to respect that- to wait and give you time to warm up to me or fall in love with me or put up some kind of wall that says you're not interested-" Senku takes a deep breath and exhales heavily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"I'm not good at reading human emotions. I'm not usually good at expressing emotions either," he pauses, weighs his words for a second. "But my feelings haven't changed," Senku says sincerely. "I miss what we had before, and I know we might never be able to have that again but I needed to say it so that I could just- get past it."
And Gen has absolutely no idea how to respond to any of that. Senku doesn't seem keen to wait around for Gen to find his words though, because he inhales deeply once more and turns to continue walking. "You don't have to try and find an answer right now," he says, prompting Gen's legs to finally move. "I'm not asking for you to evaluate your feelings and give me a solid answer, or for you to change the way you behave around me. Nothing has to change on your part," Senku says, carefully making his way down the front steps.
The wheels in Gen's brain are turning as he listens to Senku ramble, not looking back at Gen, and suddenly, Gen gets it.
Senku is nervous. He's rambling and trying to make it seem like not a big deal- trying to make sure Gen knows he has options and a way out- assuring him that nothing has to come of his feelings- but of course he's nervous.
He just confessed to Gen!
He confirmed it!!
Kaseki’s words had made Gen second guess (or third guess, at this point??) the potential relationship between he and Senku, but he was right!! There was something between them- something Senku has obviously not been able to let go of- and something that Gen honestly can't say he wouldn't be willing to start again.
There's a weird fluttery-swoopy-tingly feeling in his core, and Gen half wonders if he should turn back around and tell Kaseki that something is certainly damaged inside him, but that would mean passing up his opportunity to slip his hand into Senku's, interlacing their fingers just before they reach the front gate, and stunning Senku silent.
And when he sees the flush on Senku's cheeks, the hope and excitement that fill his eyes, the hesitant and shy smile on his lips, Gen is so grateful he didn't go back to ask Kaseki for another examination. He wouldn't have missed this for the world.
(And if he squirrels away this snippet of his memories into a random file somewhere in his main programming where no one else could possibly see it, that's for him to know and Senku to potentially find during his next check up.)
"I… would like very much for you to tell me about what we did before," Gen admits, smile a little sheepish. "We always avoid the topic… but I want to hear about it," he confides, rubbing his thumb over Senku's knuckles. "I want to know all of it- the good and the bad parts. I can't… I can't be that Gen anymore, but I still want to know."
"No one expects you to be anyone other than who you are," Senku assures Gen. "I'll tell you anything you want to know about the past, as long as you don't try to change yourself to fit what you think I want."
Gen huffs a laugh. "No promises." Senku rolls his eyes, a fond smile playing at the corner of his lips. He gives Gen's hand a small squeeze and Gen can swear he feels it in his chest.
"I want ramen for dinner," Senku says, suddenly changing the subject but not releasing Gen's hand, even as they step out onto the sidewalk. Gen hums thoughtfully, unaffected by the change in topic. He's learned to roll with the conversation as it flows over the last three months.
"Didn't we have ramen yesterday?"
"We did," Senku agrees, "but that was for lunch. Dinner ramen is a whole new experience."
"Oh is it?" Gen quirks a brow, skeptical.
"Extremely," Senku says seriously. "Like night and day."
"I find it hard to believe it's that different."
"I don't think you have any right to pass judgment on that, actually," Senku smirks, and Gen squints at Senku.
"And why is that, Dear Senku-chan?"
"Because the last time I checked, you don't have any taste buds." Senku quips. Gen gasps loud and over dramatically, right hand clutching his non-existent pearls.
"How dare you!" Gen cries, scandalized. Senku barks out a mirthful laugh, and Gen can't keep up his fake outrage when Senku smiles like that. He grins as well, stepping closer as they walk so that their shoulders touch.
For the first time in nearly three months, Gen feels completely settled. He feels at ease here, pressed against Senku, talking about nothing yet absolutely everything.
He hopes he makes Senku feel the same way.
He can't say for sure that what he feels for Senku right now is love… but he can't say it isn't, either. The beginning stages, maybe?
He'll need more data to analyze- more time with the scientist to know for sure. More laughs and stolen minutes alone and sarcasm wrapped quips. More late nights on the balcony and early mornings before the coffee is even ready.
He'll need at least a thousand more before he can be ten billion percent sure.