Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was August 2nd of the year 5741. The Perseus ship was nearly complete. Senku had announced that construction would likely wrap up by mid-September. It was good news all their hard work had paid off.

But that wasn’t what was on Gen’s mind.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling warmer than usual. Not surprising. He’d known his heat was just around the corner. Only three more days left of the pre-heat stage, and then it would hit in full swing.

Still, something about it felt different this time.

He’d spent his last four heats alone. When he was first revived, his biggest concern had been the absence of scent blockers or suppressants. He’d gone to great lengths to keep his secondary gender a secret. Publicly, Gen was listed as a beta. In truth, he was an omega.

His heats were the hardest to hide. He never knew exactly when one would strike until Senku, ever the scientist, had confirmed that both omegas and alphas would eventually return to their original biological cycles, resetting on the same month they first presented. For omegas, that meant every fourth month. Alphas, every six.

Gen had been relieved at the time. His birthday was in April, so he’d thought he had time. But things never went quite as planned.

That spring had been chaos.

His heat came at the worst possible time, right as the Kingdom of Science was preparing for a confrontation with the Empire of Might. He was scheduled to deliver the phone alongside Chrome and Magma. Gen had quietly pulled Senku aside, explained the situation. His heats typically lasted five days. He promised he’d be fine and ready to depart the day after it ended.

Senku had been concerned, of course. But Gen had reassured him—he had everything under control.

He’d already spoken with Ruri, a fellow omega, who’d graciously offered him her hut for the duration of his heat. It was located on the second islet, a quiet and secluded area. Ruri explained that no one would be allowed near the hut unless Gen gave permission. Only trusted betas and fellow omegas were permitted on that side during such times.

It was a comforting arrangement, and Gen was grateful. Ruri had even made sure the room was stocked with blankets, cool water, and soothing herbal remedies. Everything was ready. He should’ve felt safe.

But deep down, Gen knew exactly where he wanted to build his nest: the observatory he and Senku shared.

Unfortunately, that dream would have to wait. As of now, the lab and observatory were fully occupied with building several crucial scientific items they would need for the upcoming war against the Empire of Might.

Gen had to admit, it had been the most uncomfortable heat he’d ever spent. But he figured it was only natural; after all, it had been 3,700 years since everyone’s biological clocks had stopped. Some hiccups were bound to happen.

Things had calmed down since the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might had called a truce and united their forces. Tsukasa had been put into a cold sleep. Hyoga and Homura were held accountable and locked away. Soon after, Nanami Ryusui and Francois had joined their ranks, and work began in earnest on their biggest project yet: building a massive ship.

His next two heats that year had been much better. No looming battles, no ticking clock hanging over his head. But even then despite the calm he still hadn’t had the chance to spend his heat at the observatory. It bugged him more than he liked to admit.

April came, bringing his fourth heat, and still, no luck.

He was salty. Maybe a little moody. Okay, a lot moody. But after an hour back with the others, no one mentioned anything, and Gen slipped easily back into his usual self.

Out of his four heats, two had been spent at Ishigami Village under Ruri’s care—bless her—and two at the Roppongi Hills base. Senku had even built heat cabins: small, secluded spaces where omegas could spend their heats in peace, without worrying about intrusive eyes or unwanted attention. Many had thanked Senku profusely for his thoughtfulness, and Gen had to admit that he was grateful too.

But still… nothing could beat the idea of the observatory.

And this time, Gen was determined to finally spend his heat there.

He was really looking forward to it this time.

Gen knew both Senku and Chrome would be staying behind at Roppongi Hills. They were neck-deep in the ship’s construction, alongside a new project recently dubbed the mobile lab. Gen hadn’t paid much attention to the details—too preoccupied, buzzing with the thrill that he’d finally scratch an itch that had been nagging at him for over a year now.

This time, the observatory would be his.

Still, he had to admit… he felt hotter than usual. And maybe a little more affectionate than normal, though it only extended to those closest to him.

He found himself enthusiastically greeting Suika, wrapping her in a hug and subconsciously scenting her. It was a recent habit, one he hadn’t even realized he’d picked up until it became routine. He’d ruffle Chrome’s hair more often. Hook his arm with Ukyo’s in casual conversation. Offer encouraging pats on Ryusui’s back. Gently grab Kohaku’s wrist before she launched herself into another impromptu brawl. Return Taiju’s bear hugs with genuine enthusiasm. And stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Yuzuriha during long work hours, soaking up the comfort of her steady presence.

The most troublesome, though, was Senku.

Gen was always at war with himself. Caught between the urge to cuddle up against him or just climb him like a tree and never let go. It was maddening.

He knew he was far gone the moment he met the Alpha. Even when they clashed or teased each other, there was this magnetic pull, a gravitational force that kept Gen orbiting him like a moon caught in his sky.

The omega in him had already chosen.

Ishigami Senku was his Alpha.

And Gen… Gen wanted to mate with him.

Not just for the sake of biology or instincts but because he loves him. Deeply. Desperately. With the kind of quiet longing he buried beneath flirtatious grins and smooth-talking charm. Every heat he’d spent alone only solidified it more.

He wanted to spend the rest of them with Senku. Every last one.

He was a little envious of a few of the mated pairs.

Ryusui, an Alpha, and Ukyo, a fellow Omega, were never shy about their affection. They were always stealing soft kisses, sharing private jokes, touching without hesitation. Gen watched them with a quiet longing, wishing he had that kind of open, mutual devotion with a certain Alpha too.

Then there were Taiju and Yuzuriha, another Alpha-Omega pair that practically radiated warmth. Feeding each other, laughing like they were the only two in the world, eyes full of love.

Gen was genuinely happy for them. Really, he was.

But he couldn’t help wishing. Wishing it was his hand Senku would take, his cheek Senku would brush absentmindedly, his nest the Alpha would curl into.

He just wanted that kind of love—with him.

But Gen wasn’t even sure if Senku was interested in him.

He had subtly confessed, in his own way, back when they gifted the observatory to Senku. A symbolic gesture wrapped in smiles and half-truths. He didn’t know if the Alpha had caught on but with war preparations looming, he hadn’t expected much.

Still, something had shifted after that.

Senku had started hovering. Always close, always in Gen’s space, not that he minded. It was the little things. Making sure Gen’s plate was full, insisting he needed to eat more to keep up with the workload. Quietly guiding him by the waist whenever he was too deep into a conversation and avoided walking into a tree. Being there, always there, when Gen found himself cornered by a few too-curious Alphas from the Empire of Might.

Every time, Senku would show up like clockwork, wordlessly pulling him away and grumbling something about slacking off or needing his brain elsewhere.

Gen appreciated it. All of it.

But he couldn’t help wondering—was it just Senku being Senku?

Or was there something more behind those quiet touches and soft glances?

It didn’t help that all of it made Gen’s heart flutter and his stomach pool with a familiar, aching warmth.

He liked Senku’s concentration face—the way those crimson eyes sharpened, the slight pinch of his brows, the way his tongue would peek out in focus before his lips shifted into that rare, triumphant grin. His arms, his hands— God, they were attractive too. Strong, sure, steady.

And his voice.

Gen didn’t even know where to start with his voice. It always made his knees feel just a little weaker, his mind just a little hazier whenever Senku spoke low and absentmindedly in his direction.

It was stupid, really.

But no matter how hard he tried, Gen couldn’t help it.

Okay, Gen had to admit it—he was horny.

Damn this pre-heat.

This heat was definitely going to be worse than the others.

It was going to be life changing for sure.

Gen let out a sigh, tucking his arms into his sleeves as he rocked back on his heels. From where he stood, he could see a few Kingdom of Science members working diligently on the Perseus in the distance. His own belongings were already packed along with a few, ahem, borrowed articles of Senku’s. The Alpha thought he’d just misplaced them somewhere. No harm done.

Soon he’d be departing for Ishigami Village along with Kohaku, Suika, Ukyo, Francois, and a few other villagers.

Gen felt the distinct sensation of someone watching him and snapped out of his thoughts, glancing to his left only to meet a pair of familiar sea-green eyes. Ukyo stood there, wearing an amused little smile.

“Welcome back to Earth, Gen.”

“Ukyo-chan! Hey, you’re quite stealthy, you know~” Gen chuckled awkwardly, realizing he hadn’t heard him approach at all.

“Uh-huh,” Ukyo said, cocking his head slightly. “So, what’s got you in such a perky mood?”

Gen’s cheeks flushed faintly, and he glanced away, fiddling with his sleeves.“Nothing at all,” he said breezily. “Maybe I’m just happy to finally go home after spending a few months stuck here.”

The older omega gave him a knowing look as he circled around him and sniffed the air. Ukyo stood back up and blinked in surprise. " Oh… you’re—"

"-in pre-heat I know, my heats around the corner and after a year I’m finally going to spend it on that one place I’ve wanted." Gen finished the older omega’s sentence for him and hummed with satisfaction at the end.

Ukyo eyebrows furrowed concerned for his friend. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.

A familiar voice called out from the path ahead. “Oi, you two done slacking off?”

Both omegas turned toward the sound, spotting Kohaku approaching with her arms crossed and an arched brow. Behind her, Suika and Francois trailed with baskets in hand, clearly gathering supplies for the journey.

Gen plastered on his usual grin. “We’re not slacking, dear Kohaku-chan, merely enjoying the air and each other’s lovely company~”

Kohaku gave a pointed look toward Ukyo, who just shrugged with a small smile.

But Ukyo’s eyes flicked back to Gen, still faintly troubled. He leaned in close, voice low. “Just… be careful, okay? That place may be your dream nest, but if a certain Alpha drops by—”

“I’ll be fine,” Gen cut in, his smile faltering for a split second. “He’s busy with the Perseus and the mobile lab. He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ukyo didn’t look convinced.

But Gen didn’t let the concern weigh on him. He adjusted the strap on his travel bag, straightened his shoulders, and strode forward with renewed purpose.

He was finally going to the observatory for his heat. Nothing could go wrong.

…Right?

Behind him, Ukyo and Francois shared a look. Ukyo mouthed a few words to her, causing the beta butler to pause mid-step.

“Are you sure?” Francois questioned quietly, watching as Gen started a conversation with Kohaku and Suika while they waited for the others.

“Positive,” Ukyo replied, stepping closer to the beta to explain in a hushed whisper. “Gen’s not aware of it himself, but his body, his recent actions, his scent — it all makes sense. I didn’t notice it before, but once I smelled him, I instantly knew. The other Alphas seem to have noticed too.”

Ukyo glanced over his shoulder, eyeing a few Alphas whose interest had clearly been piqued. Their sights were set on Asagiri Gen, a single, unmated omega whose scent practically screamed fertile and fully ripe.

“It all adds up,” Francois concluded, following his gaze. “An omega’s fertility peaks between the ages of twenty-one and thirty.” They briefly skimmed over the group of lingering Alphas before locking eyes with their leader, Ishigami Senku.

“Is Master Senku aware of this?”

Ukyo lifted his cap with a finger, lips pressed tight. “Subconsciously, yes. He always appears at just the right moment whenever an Alpha starts taking an interest in Gen. Everyone knows how Senku is with Gen and how Gen is with Senku — so most Alphas have backed off. But now… they might not.”

Francois hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. “A challenge indeed. Especially when an omega enters peak fertility… it can drive even the most disciplined Alphas to act rashly.”

Ukyo sighed. “Yeah. And Gen… he’s subconsciously letting his scent leak, trying to attract an Alpha to mate.”

Francois gave a soft chuckle. “We may need to intervene if necessary. Discreetly, of course.”

Ukyo smirked wryly. “Of course.”

Ahead of them, Gen threw his head back in a bright laugh at something Suika said, the soft breeze carrying his sweetened scent directly toward the loitering Alphas. Ukyo caught the twitching noses, the sudden hunger flickering in their gazes.

And farther back, hidden half behind the towering frame of the Perseus, stood Senku — crimson eyes locked onto Gen, jaw tight with restraint.

“Oh,” Francois said, their voice light with amusement. “Perhaps we won’t have to interfere after all.”

_________________

Ishigami Senku had found Gen’s recent behavior odd over the past two days. One moment, the omega was affectionate — laughing, clinging to their friends, letting his scent linger — and the next, as soon as Senku approached, Gen barely lasted thirty minutes before making some excuse to leave.

Senku couldn’t help but notice the pattern, and it left an odd, uncomfortable knot twisting in his gut. Was Gen… avoiding him? But why?

It didn’t help that the curious eyes of a few Alphas lingered far too long on Gen for Senku’s liking. His stomach churned at the sight, and he felt a low growl bubbling up in his chest — a rare, instinctive sound that startled even himself.

He quickly snapped out of it, embarrassed.

Because Senku does not growl.

He had to admit, Asagiri Gen was different. He was the only omega who had ever piqued his Alpha’s interest.

Senku’s Alpha instincts had always seemed unbothered and indifferent toward every omega he came across. He hadn’t even reacted when he encountered an omega in heat during his first year of high school. Senku simply calling for a teacher, guarding the door, and leaving as soon as help arrived.

That’s not to say he wasn’t curious about intimacy. At heart, he was still a teenage boy going through puberty. Of course he had searched up some rated-R videos one afternoon — only to shut it off after fifteen minutes, unimpressed.

He didn’t understand the infatuation Alphas and Omegas seemed to have for each other. And porn clearly exaggerated the relationship so there was no point of looking for answers there.

When Senku first encountered Gen, he was surprised the omega’s scent immediately invaded his senses. He had never smelled anything so divine before.

Senku could describe Gen’s scent like another scientific lecture; he could go on and on, never ending, because somehow each time Gen’s scent shifted — though he never spoke it aloud.

It was sweet, but not cloying, like the faint hint of plum blossoms carried on a breeze. Beneath it, something sharper lingered — crisp and clean, like the snap of fresh mint leaves crushed between fingers. And, dormant underneath it all, the subtle threat of nightshade.

It made his nose twitch. His mouth go dry. If he lingered too long near him, it was almost unbearable.

In theory, scents were just chemical signals, pheromones designed to trigger biological responses.

But Gen’s scent?

It short-circuited that neat, clinical explanation. It crept under his skin, lingered behind his teeth, stuck to the inside of his chest in a way he couldn’t analyze or categorize. It invaded all of his senses.

Sometimes, when Gen leaned too close — laughing, smiling, existing — Senku felt a strange, electric pull, like the world around them blurred into static.

It was irrational. It was illogical. It was completely out of his control.

And it drove him insane.

Instincts that had laid dormant for years began to stir. Without thinking, he hovered around Gen — making sure the omega ate, ensuring the stock of Senku Cola never ran out. His chest always wanted to rumble with satisfaction whenever he saw a pleased smile cross Gen’s face, but of course, he held back.

He found himself guiding Gen by the waist when the omega was lost in thought, leading him away when random Alphas dared to approach — always ending with a sharp glare tossed over his shoulder.

He told himself it was just him being careful. Just making sure Gen didn’t get himself into trouble.
Just… making sure he stayed interested. That he knew he chose the right side: the Kingdom of Science.

But all that changed when Gen returned from his heat leave.

Senku had gotten one whiff — different this time. A new layer of scent, small, subtle, and hardly noticeable. He wouldn’t have caught it at all if he hadn’t, in a moment of weakness, needed to scent him. Discreetly, of course.

He had reached behind Gen, pretending to grab a material, his scent gland brushing lightly against the surprised omega’s neck. He pulled back instantly, feigning indifference.

A spicier scent, he noted.New. Addicting.

His Alpha side looked on with curiosity. Hooked.

And from that moment on, Senku took every opportunity to scent Gen in passing just enough to make sure everyone else knew Gen was not available.

Not anymore.

His last two ruts had been different as only a certain someone invaded his mind. He felt a bit ashamed of what he had done during those ruts, the fantasies he couldn’t shake but the feeling, the need to claim Gen had grown stronger each time.

The Perseus was almost complete now, and the mobile lab only needed a few finishing touches. Senku had been so focused on finishing these two major projects that he hadn’t even noticed something crucial — he had missed his second annual rut of the year.

July had passed, and now it was August.

Senku rubbed at his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He was overdue. He could feel the pressure building — a slow, insistent thrum under his skin — and lately, he’d been far more cranky and agitated than usual.

Snapping at people who, without fail, just happened to be the curious Alphas whose eyes lingered too long on Gen.

Which…
Seemed to be exactly what they were doing now.

Senku clicked his tongue in annoyance and called them out. “Alright, that’s it. You guys are useless here. Get to the fields and help out the big oaf.”

“Wow, that’s a new record. Only took approximately ten minutes before Senku snapped,” Chrome whistled from somewhere behind him.

Ryusui tipped his head back and laughed, snapping his fingers. “Ha-ha! Those who aren’t working hard enough don’t earn a spot on my ship—especially slackers.”

The trio of Alphas turned to face Senku while Ryusui and Chrome watched from behind, curious to see how their science leader would handle it this time.

“What?” one of the Alphas, Akane, grunted.

“Hah? What makes you think we’d listen to you, little Alpha?” came Kaito’s loud voice.

“Yeah,” Takashi chimed in, puffing his chest out. “You just wanna keep that pretty little omega to yourself. Can’t say I blame you—he looks like he’s never taken an Alpha’s knot before. Think he’d be nice and obedient, moaning like a good little omega while I—”

A surge of indescribable rage flooded Senku. His crimson eyes locked onto them with a glare sharp enough to make any grown man cry.

How dare they speak of Gen like that? Like he was some object to be used. Some prize to be passed around.

A growl rumbled low in his chest. He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep control—but Senku Ishigami was not a saint.

Weeks of nonstop work. A missed rut. Pent-up frustration and restraint. It all reached a boiling point. Yeah, he’d been irritable lately. Snapping more than usual. Barking at the wrong people at the wrong time.

But this? This was personal.

His instincts were screaming. To protect. To defend his mate’s honor.

Mate?

The thought stopped him for only a second. Since when did he think of Gen as his mate? But the word felt right. And he didn’t question it.

No one had time to react before Senku lunged.

He grabbed Takashi by the collar with shocking strength and yanked him down to his level. His eyes were cold, steady, burning with a quiet rage that had been simmering too long.

“Don’t you ever speak of Gen like that, you little shit,” he hissed. “I’m not one for violence, but right now I’ve thrown caution out the window. I tolerated you and your band of meatheads because we needed extra hands on this ship. But now? Ha. I couldn’t care less what happens to you.”

Senku leaned closer, his voice a whisper sharp as a scalpel. “If you disappeared mysteriously on a mission I sent you on… no one would bat an eye. Trial and error happens in science, after all. And I know a lot of ways to make someone disappear.”

“Oh my god, holy shit —” Chrome gasped, clutching Ryusui’s short sleeve and stepping behind him like a shield. “Ryusui, I’ve never seen him this mad!”

Ryusui was stunned—not just by Senku’s outburst, but by the audacity of these low-ranking Alphas to speak so crudely about Senku’s omega.

His gaze turned cold. He crossed his arms, settling a hard glare on the other two behind the stunned Takashi.

“Now, go pack your bags. I better not see any of you near Gen again,” Senku said, voice low and lethal, before calling out across the deck. “Kinro! Ginro! Take these idiots to Magma and Yo. Tell them they’re reassigned to the fields. And make sure Taiju works them to the bone.”

Ginro flinched at the sound of his name, while Kinro straightened with crisp resolve, gripping his weapon as he gave a firm nod. “Let’s go.”

Kinro jerked his head to the side, motioning the three Alphas to move. Senku released his grip on Takashi.

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for, Takashi?” Senku muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as the stunned Alpha finally blinked out of his daze.

“Fuck you—” Takashi’s jaw clenched. He looked ready to explode, but before he could finish speaking , Senku cut him off with a sharp glare.

“Leave.”

The word reverberated. Senku didn’t yell. He didn’t need to.

He had used his Alpha voice.

Chrome’s mouth dropped open in shock. Ryusui shifted slightly, ready to step in if things escalated, but even he looked surprised. Rage burned in Takashi’s eyes, but Senku didn’t flinch.

And then—

Whiz—THUNK.

An arrow zipped past Takashi’s head, slicing a clean line across his cheek before embedding itself in the beam just inches from Chrome.

“Oops! My bad!” Ukyo’s voice rang out, too cheerful to be convincing. He waved with an apologetic smile but those who knew him recognized the cold, deadly glint in his eyes."My fingers slipped!"

Kohaku and Suika gasped in unison. Francois simply smiled with quiet satisfaction. Gen’s gaze flicked sharply from Senku, to Takashi, to the arrow—his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Ryusui was already in motion. Swelling with pride—and resisting the urge to kiss Ukyo in public—he clapped a strong hand on Takashi’s shoulder and shoved him toward Kinro and Ginro. “No problem, my sweet dove! All is well! No one’s hurt!” Yet, he didn’t say.

Senku stood still, arms crossed, eyes locked on Takashi like a predator daring its prey to strike again.

Takashi bit his lip and stormed off, muttering curses under his breath.

Chrome yanked the arrow from the post, pouting. He marched over and handed it to Ryusui. “Here. Ukyo probably needs this more than the ship does.”

Ryusui accepted it with a half-grin and tossed Ukyo a nod his way. Ukyo gave a little shrug and turned away with a small smile, already pretending to busy himself.

Ryusui’s gaze flicked toward Gen—who was quiet. Too quiet. Then to Senku—who was watching Gen.

Senku exhaled and scratched his ear with his pinky. “You think the mentalist noticed?”

Ryusui inhaled deeply, then grinned. “Ukyo won’t say anything. He’ll spin a story, buy you some time. But… your scent’s leaking. I wouldn’t be surprised if it engulfed the entire area but seeing as Ukyo and Gen seemed unbothered I’d say it’s just shipping area."

Senku froze. He subtly sniffed himself.

“Oh yeah, dude, the whole ship stinks,” Chrome said, pinching his nose. “Even I can smell you.”

“Oho, looks like those punks finally pushed the unshakable Senku over the edge,” Kaseki chuckled as he walked by, arms full of tools. “Good thing most of the workers up here are just Betas and a few sensible Alphas.”

Chrome released his nose and inhaled dramatically, fingers tucked under his chin like he was making a scientific hypothesis.“Your scent kinda smells like… uh…”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “…burning ozone and pine needles? No—wait—like those hot springs near the volcano mixed with a storm about to hit.”

He turned to Kaseki with a half-panicked laugh. “Is that normal? That’s not normal, right?”

Kaseki gave a low whistle and nodded sagely. “That, my boy, is the smell of a very pissed-off Alpha trying not to murder someone especially when it comes to their mate. They become territorial as hell.”

Chrome’s eyes widened as he spun toward Senku. “Whoa, wait—territorial? You—? Are you—?!”

Senku’s ears turned red. “Shut up, Chrome.”

“But that means Gen is—!”

Senku shot him a deadly look.

Chrome zipped his lips shut and mimed locking them.

Ryusui chuckled beside them, clapping a hand on Chrome’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Chrome. It’s no secret how those two are with each other. When I first arrived, Senku made it very clear that Gen was off-limits—not just to me, but to every Alpha around. I noticed how often you scent him, whether it’s intentional or not. The message was clear: back off.” He grinned. “Especially when an Alpha’s broadcasting ‘mine’ loud enough to fry circuits.”

Senku groaned into his hand but couldn’t deny the pulse of truth in Ryusui’s words. His body had reacted before his brain caught up—instincts overriding logic. He’d flooded the deck with his scent, thrown out threats like mathematical formulas, and pulled rank harder than he ever had.

All because someone had dared to talk about Gen like that.

He exhaled through his nose and turned away with a mutter. “Whatever. He probably didn’t even notice.”

“That’s the weird part,” Chrome said, glancing at Ryusui. “You and Gen aren’t even, like…together. Not like you and Ukyo.” He gestured vaguely at the visible mating mark on Ryusui’s neck. Ryusui didn’t bother hiding it; he wore it proudly.

Chrome turned his attention back to Senku. “You’ve been acting different lately too. Kinda…off. Why are you suddenly so territorial over Gen?”

“It’s probably because Senku feels like he’s being challenged,” Kaseki chimed in, his voice calm but knowing. “Threatened, maybe. He might not be aware of it, but his Alpha instincts are. Gen’s beautiful—clever too. Who wouldn’t want him as a mate? I’d be surprised if he didn’t have suitors lining up.”

“No—” Senku groaned, shaking his head. There had to be a logical explanation for all this. If his dad were here, he’d either explain it in scientific terms or laugh in his face for missing the obvious. Either way, Senku would sink into the floor in embarrassment. “No one’s making moves on anyone. Enough chit-chat, let’s get back to work.”

“Oh! Now that you mention it,” Chrome continued, ignoring him, “more Alphas have been noticing Gen lately. I saw a couple approach him the other—” Chrome winced as Senku slammed a hammer down onto a beam with unnecessary force. “—day,” he finished awkwardly.

Kaseki chuckled and returned to his task. Chrome crossed his arms with a pout.

Ryusui, meanwhile, had tuned the conversation out, caught in his own thoughts. Senku’s erratic behavior, his restlessness, his mood seems to worsen every time Gen’s mentioned or when the omega was within proximity. Gen, for his part, had been affectionate, but only within their group. Still… something had shifted. Ryusui could feel it.

“This ship won’t finish itself,” Senku snapped, clicking his tongue. “Grab your tools and move.”

Chrome muttered something under his breath and went back to work. Kaseki hummed, still amused.

Senku turned just in time to catch Ryusui gazing thoughtfully at the arrow in his hand.

“If you want to return that to Ukyo,” Senku said, more tired than annoyed now, “go ahead. Their group won’t be leaving for another hour or two.”

Senku knew how clingy the blonde Alpha could be with his mate. Gen had once joked that Ryusui behaved like a golden retriever when it came to Ukyo. And it was true—Senku had no doubt that even if Ukyo would be gone for just a few weeks, Ryusui would find a way to make frequent visits. Distance had never stopped him before.

Ukyo’s group was scheduled to travel back to Ishigami Village, transporting supplies from Roppongi Hills to help the villagers prepare for the coming winter. If Senku’s calculations were correct, they’d depart mainland Japan around mid-September—likely the 9th or 10th—and set course for the so-called Treasure Island, the place where his father and the other astronauts had once made their home.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d stay there while searching for the Soyuz space shuttle, especially since its exact location on the island remained unknown. But one thing was certain: the people staying behind had to be well-prepared and stocked with enough supplies to last at least half a year. So, Senku entrusted Ukyo with this responsibility, letting him choose who to bring along. He also told him that if any villagers wanted to return home, they were free to go.

With their current population of 150 slowly increasing—thanks to a new generation born over the past year and a half, as several betas and omegas gave birth—resources were more important than ever. Many members of the former Empire of Might had paired up and started families, perhaps driven by the belief that no more people would be revived. Some understood the risks of this expedition: if those who set sail were lost or killed, the survival of humanity would rest on those left behind.

Senku was aware that not everyone considered him their pack leader. Many of the Empire of Might still looked to Tsukasa for that role. But since their truce—and Senku’s promise to help heal Tsukasa—they’d come to respect him, even if wariness lingered. Alphas like Takashi, Akane, and Kaito—formerly of the Empire—liked to challenge his authority. Of course, they never got far, especially not when members of Senku’s own pack stepped in. A good leader ensured the safety and survival of the pack, and Senku had done everything within his power to uphold that duty.

Still… he felt a little bad about separating the couple.

“Ha! I was already planning to,” Ryusui grinned, fiddling with the arrow as he turned toward Senku with a spark in his eye. “You know this distance won’t stop me from seeing Ukyo, right? With the hot air balloon and my skills, I could make two trips a day!”

Senku rolled his eyes, a dry scoff escaping him. Still, the corner of his mouth tugged upward into a faint smirk as he scratched the edge of his ear. “Figured you’d say that. Honestly, I’m surprised you and Ukyo haven’t started a family yet.”

He blew on his pinky finger idly as Ryusui’s shoulders slumped a little. The Alpha sighed.

“I desire that more than anything,” Ryusui admitted. “But with the unknown dangers ahead, I don’t want to risk the safety of the most important people in my life. Even if Ukyo is carrying our pup right now… I’m a greedy man. I don’t want to leave them behind. Logic says it’s safer, but my heart says the safest place for them is beside me. I know you—and the rest of our pack—would protect them if needed. We talked about it. Agreed that once things settle and we’re no longer facing constant risks, we’ll start growing our family.”

His voice was soft, steady, but his eyes held a quiet longing as they drifted toward his mate, who stood across the camp, chatting with Francois and Gen while entertaining Suika.

Senku followed his gaze but his eyes didn’t settle on Ukyo. They found Gen.

The omega smiled gently as he held Suika’s hands, guiding her through a clumsy dance. Kohaku clapped along, snickering at the sight. Gen grinned mischievously, whispered something to Suika, and the pup beamed. She turned to Kohaku with excitement, clearly inviting her to join in.

Senku’s body relaxed as he took in the scene, eyes lingering on how effortlessly Gen interacted with Suika. He’d always been good with children. Even back when it had been just the two of them—the only modern people in the village—kids naturally gravitated toward Gen. There was something comforting about him, something warm and inviting.

A tug pulled deep in Senku’s chest, spreading warmth through his core. A soft vibration began to build in the back of his throat—not quite a growl, but close. Quiet, content.

And for a fleeting second, the scene before him shifted.

He saw Gen, laughing, surrounded by pups—one of them was being twirled around by the omega. Another clung to the hem of Gen’s purple overcoat, eyes filled with curiosity as they watched the moment unfold. Then, that pup turned and locked eyes with him, as if to say: “Well? What are you waiting for?”

He couldn’t help but notice that both pups bore features that unmistakably mirrored the two of them. The resemblance was undeniable, and it hit him like a revelation.

A shiver ran through Senku’s body, his teeth pressing into his lip as a wave of emotion crashed over him. Whatever his mind had conjured—it was powerful. It stirred something deep, something primal. It shifted his entire axis. Showed him something he never thought he needed.

Something he now craved.

Asagiri Gen would be an incredible mother to his—no, our pups. Ten billion percent.

His nerves buzzed, excitement sparking through every fiber of his being. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

“Senku, you’re purring…” Ryusui said with a smug tone, pulling Senku out of his stupor.

Heat flushed through Senku’s face, crawling from his cheeks down to his neck. He immediately turned his back to the blonde Alpha, hoping to hide the growing redness that now colored the tips of his ears.

Ryusui snickered behind him, clearly pleased. “You totally pictured having a family with Gen, didn’t you? It’s okay, my dear friend! I say enough with the pining—”

“Argh! I’m going to check if there are any issues below deck,” Senku snapped before storming off, disappearing through a door that led inside the ship.

Ryusui puffed out his cheeks in amusement as he watched the last glimpse of Senku’s red ears vanish behind the door. With a light shrug, he turned and strolled down the boarding ramp toward his mate, a slight bounce in his step.

_______________

To say Gen was suspicious was an understatement—it was so obvious that even someone like Magma or Yo would’ve picked up on it. So when, out of nowhere, Ukyo suddenly proposed that he could easily shoot an arrow all the way across the vicinity toward the shipping area, Gen’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face.

Kohaku scoffed. “There’s no way you could hit the wooden support beam behind Chrome from here.”

Suika immediately leapt in with a wide grin, “Ukyo can totally do it! Even with his eyes closed!”

Francois, ever poised, offered a calm nod of agreement. “As expected from Ryusui’s mate.”

Then, before Gen could even chime in, the arrow was loosed.

It whistled through the air—Gen swore it might’ve even grazed the alpha named Takashi—before it landed squarely into the post behind Chrome, startling the poor beta. Gen blinked in disbelief at the scene unfolding in front of him.

Takashi, back turned to them, had leaned in close to someone, too close.

Wait… is that Senku-chan? Why does he look so—

Gen’s gaze darted from the two alphas to the arrow. Something about Senku’s expression—tense, jaw clenched, his usual sharp eyes darkened with something unreadable—was deeply unsettling.

And… okay, maybe a little hot.

Ukyo called out a sheepish apology. Ryusui just waved it off with a laugh, as if this was perfectly normal.

Gen stayed quiet, a storm of scenarios running through his head. What could’ve made Senku look that angry? Why was he even near Takashi? And why was his first thought not about the arrow, but about the way Senku’s eyes looked when he was pissed?

He happened to lock eyes with Ryusui for a brief second.

Then looked away quickly.

That seemed to snap him out of his daze. He turned toward Ukyo, who gave the group a sheepish smile. Kohaku patted the omega on the back with a grin. Suika threw her arms in the air in celebration. Francois gave a single, satisfied nod.

And Gen tried very hard not to look at Senku again.

“What’s going on over there, Ukyo-chan? Things look a little tense, maybe I should go over—” Gen took a step forward, but Ukyo quickly placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

“There’s no need. Seems like it’s all being taken care of!”

“But if problems arise, they could get worse,” Gen argued, his tone laced with suspicion. “It’s better to put a stop to things before a quiet, simmering rebellion turns into something messy. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t fix. So… what did you hear, Ukyo-chan?”

Ukyo scratched his cheek, eyes flicking away. “Well… it seems like Akane, Kaito, and Takashi made a mistake in one of the rooms on the ship. You know how Senku and the science team are. They don’t want anything pushing back the departure date. Senku’s been… moody and snappy lately.”

He paused, then added quickly, “Don’t worry! They’re being reassigned to the fields. It suits them better anyway.”

Gen placed a hand on his hip, eyeing the omega thoughtfully. He wasn’t stupid—he could smell a lie from a mile away. But for now, he’d play along.

“Okay, okay… Seems like I’ll be out of a job soon,” he said with a coy smile, voice lilting with teasing sarcasm. “How ad-say~”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go over there either, Master Gen,” Francois commented.

“Why’s that, Francois-chan?” Gen tilted his head, curious.

“Oof, it’s ’cause your scent is leaking. So sweet…” Kohaku pinched her nose. If Kohaku—a beta—could smell him, then his pre-heat might be worse than he’d imagined.

“I think Gen smells amazing! I love it!” Suika beamed, hugging his side. Gen immediately patted her watermelon helmet with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Suika-chan. And…” He looked at Ukyo with a worried expression. “Do I really smell? I must’ve unconsciously let my scent out.”

He brought up a free hand and began fanning himself, noticing the sweat building on his temples. “Ugh, this summer heat is the worst~!”

“You, uh, smell amazing—no doubt,” Ukyo admitted, arms dropping to his sides. “But for others, it might be a little too strong to handle. Maybe try pulling back?”

Gen took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to center himself and reel the scent back in. “Yeah… something must’ve triggered it.”

Ukyo knew exactly what—or rather who—he meant. He’d seen the way Gen had been ogling Senku, especially when the alpha was angry.

“Here! Dance with Suika, Gen!” Suika cheered, grabbing his hands and hopping in place, trying to distract him.

Gen chuckled softly and let himself be led.

She’s so adorable…’ he thought as he followed her clumsy little steps.

Gen loved children. They were full of life and wonder, always ready to be entertained with stories or magic tricks. He adored the way their eyes sparkled at being introduced to something new. Deep down, he’d always known that he wanted a family of his own.

Whenever he was asked in interviews about settling down, he would always respond vaguely, never revealing his secondary gender.

“Yes, in the future—if possible. Maybe once I retire, I’ll settle down,” he’d say, brushing the topic off.

But the desire never went away. If anything, it had only grown stronger especially whenever he was surrounded by children or new mothers. He’d been there, along with others, to support newly bonded beta and omega parents. He’d witnessed the miracle of birth, heard a newborn’s first cry. It was unforgettable—something he’d never have experienced back in the 21st century.

“Ukyo, my sweet dove, apple of my eyes—I’ve come to return this arrow to you~”

The melodramatic voice snapped Gen from his reverie as Ryusui stepped forward, placing the arrow back in the quiver on Ukyo’s back. The golden-haired alpha immediately wrapped an arm around Ukyo’s waist, burying his face into the omega’s neck.

Ukyo laughed softly, lifting a hand to ruffle Ryusui’s hair. “How’s my greedy alpha? Miss me already?”

“Always. You know, just because you’re heading back to Ishigami Village doesn’t mean I’ll stop seeing you.” Ryusui grinned. “Ha-ha! I even got permission from our pack leader!”

Gen crossed his arms as Suika skipped away to join Kohaku. “I eriously-say doubt that. No one could stop you if they tried. So, who’s going to tag along on these daily visits with you, Ryusui-chan?”

Ryusui turned his gaze on Gen with an intensity that made the omega feel unexpectedly self-conscious. “Anyone who wants to tag along, of course.”

“Right…” Gen smiled awkwardly. “Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. I’m sure Ryusui-chan wants to spend every minute with Ukyo-chan before it’s time to part~”

“I’ll start loading up the car. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be, Master Ryusui, Master Ukyo,” Francois said with a courteous bow, then walked off, easily carrying a few bags.

Gen let out a soft sigh as he headed toward the forest path, Kohaku and Suika naturally falling into step beside him. He gripped the strap of his bag a little too tightly, his thoughts spinning as he tried not to appear too eager.

He really wanted to be at the village as soon as possible.

He needed to start building his nest and preparing for his upcoming heat. That meant stocking up on food and water—and ahem… a certain primitive tool used by omegas during heats.

Gen hadn’t used one during his last four cycles—he’d been far too embarrassed to even bring up the topic of toys. But it turned out he didn’t have to. A few modern omegas had spoken up first, voicing their thoughts in one of Ruri’s education sessions. The village priestess had happily explained the traditional alternatives and even shown them examples of what was once used to help omegas cope during their heats.

Naturally, some had accepted it with curiosity, while others preferred to spend their heats with a partner. Gen, on the other hand, had quietly taken notes.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d been one of the key figures who helped upgrade and market a sleeker version of the aid last year.

He may or may not have set one aside for himself—strictly for future use, of course. And now, with his scent leaking and his body starting to stir…

That time might be now.

He glanced down at his bag where the discreetly hidden item was safely tucked away. No one needed to know.

Gen looked up at the observatory ahead as he finally stepped into the clearing where his home stood. It had been a couple of hours since the suspicious incident at the shipping area—something now pushed to the back of his mind. With a little bounce in his step, Gen picked up his pace and quickly climbed the ladders, calling a quick, “See you at dinner!” over his shoulder to Ukyo, Kohaku, Suika, and Francois as they watched him disappear through the door.

The clearing had grown larger over time, more trees had been chopped down to make space for new huts and cabins for those staying in Ishigami Village. The villagers lived on the islets, while the modern-timers took up this section of land. Only Ukyo, Francois, and Gen had returned to the village from Roppongi Hills; the rest were native villagers.

Buzzing with excitement, Gen opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him with a little hum. The sun was setting, casting a golden light through the cracks, so he opened the hatch at the top of the observatory to let in some evening air. He looked around fondly—the room looked just as they had left it. No one had rummaged through their things. Senku must’ve been the last one here, and Gen smiled at the thought of the alpha tidying up before heading back to Roppongi Hills.

Setting down his bag, Gen got to work.

He quickly moved to the corner where they stored extra mats, dragging two of them to the center of the room. He was going to stay here a few days, so he might as well make himself comfortable. Placing the mats side by side, he nodded once he was satisfied, then retrieved pillows and blankets, organizing them with deliberate care around his growing nest.

Then came the best part.

He unzipped his bag and dumped its contents into the center of the nest, letting his instincts take over. He sifted through each piece of clothing, placing them where they felt “right.” And then, finally, the crown jewels of his collection: Senku’s clothes.

Thanks to Yuzuriha expanding their clothing line, Senku had gained a slightly more diverse wardrobe which meant more opportunities for Gen. He’d swiped the fabric Senku used to wrap his forearms and wrists—coincidentally one of his scent glands—and tucked away a few worn shirts as well. What Gen really wanted was that tunic Senku always wore, but alas, this would have to do… for now.

He had half a mind to stop and bury his face in his hands out of pure embarrassment, but his omega instincts didn’t let him. He was running on instinct and emotion now, completely focused on the comfort and security of the space he was creating.

Once everything was in place, Gen stood up, took a step back, and admired his work with a pleased purr.

Then he kicked the bag aside and flopped into the center of his nest—belly-down, arms hugging a pillow, his head turned to the side with a soft sigh.

“Finally.”

Sleep soon overtook the omega, and Gen’s eyes closed before he even realized how tired he must have been. His body relaxed as the sun dipped below the horizon, giving way to the starry night sky above. He knew Ukyo or Francois would probably come wake him for dinner—but for now, a short nap couldn’t hurt.

_______________

Bonus +

Senku looked around the area as the group settled around the bonfire, two plates in his hands as he scanned for the mentalist. The rest had already formed small clusters, chatting over dinner.

That’s odd. Normally, Gen would be by my side by now… Maybe he’s busy? Senku raised a brow, eyes narrowing in thought as he wondered where the omega could be.

“Senku! Come join us!” Taiju’s loud voice cut through his thoughts. The brown-haired alpha waved him over to a small group of friends—Yuzuriha, Ryusui, Chrome, Nikki, Minami, Kinro, and Ginro.

With a sigh, Senku made his way over and sat down on the log beside Ryusui. The blonde alpha ate as he chatted with Chrome and Yuzuriha.

“Who’s the second plate for, Senku? Or did you just get a head start on seconds?” Taiju laughed.

That drew everyone’s attention. Ryusui cast him a knowing, smug glance. Chrome gave a single nod, already forming a conclusion. Yuzuriha covered her mouth, trying to hide a smile. Minami leaned in to whisper something to Nikki, who blushed and sent several glances Senku’s way.

“If you’re not gonna eat it, then give it to me, Senku!” Ginro made a grabby motion toward the untouched plate.

Kinro grabbed the back of Ginro’s shirt, halting him, while Senku shot a hand out protectively over the plate.

“If you want more, go get it yourself,” Kinro scolded. “Senku clearly brought that for Gen.”

Senku straightened slightly at the mention of the omega. “…Have any of you seen Gen?”

“Not since a few hours ago,” Chrome said, shaking his head.

“Nope,” Minami and Nikki echoed.

“He was with Kohaku and Suika,” Nikki added.

“Maybe he turned in for the night? He looked kind of flushed,” Yuzuriha said with a note of concern.

“Should I go get him?” Taiju asked, half-standing.

“No need, Taiju,” Ryusui cut in. “Gen left with the others and headed back to Ishigami Village.”

Senku’s head snapped toward the blonde alpha. “What? He didn’t tell me.”

“Well, you were busy working on the boat.” Ryusui took a slow sip of his drink, then let out a sigh. “You can always tag along if you miss him that much.”

Senku gritted his teeth and shook his head. “No. There’s no need. We have to focus on the task at hand.”

Even as he said it, a small exhale escaped him. Their group wouldn’t be back for another two weeks.
Throughout the rest of the night, Senku only spoke when directly addressed. He ended up eating the second plate of food—not out of hunger, but out of spite. It was meant for Gen, but he’d rather eat it himself than hand it off to Ginro or anyone else. Still, a nagging worry clung to him.

Is Gen eating enough? Did I leave enough blankets last time?

I made sure to clean the place… I think I left one or two blankets—was that enough? Wait, did I even restock the candles?

Senku’s red gaze burned into the fire as thoughts spiraled in his head. Sitting beside him, Ryusui seemed to notice the turmoil churning beneath the scientist’s silence.

“Is our resident scientist worrying about his omega?” Ryusui grinned. “I admire how dedicated you are to Gen—especially after earlier today.”

“Man, you have it baaad,” Chrome chimed in.

“I don’t want to hear that coming from you,” Senku snapped, clicking his tongue. Ryusui chuckled in the background while Chrome gave an exaggeratedly offended look.

Senku turned his attention back to Ryusui. “And Gen is not my omega—”

“Yet. ” Ryusui’s grin widened as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Senku opened his mouth—then shut it.

His alpha seemed to agree with Ryusui. And deep down, Senku knew he wanted that too.

He stared into the fire, the warmth of it doing little to soothe the low ache that settled in his chest. He could lie to the others, brush it off with sarcasm or silence—but not to himself. Not anymore.

Chapter Text

It had been three days since Gen arrived at the village. He’d stocked up on supplies in preparation for his upcoming heat and kept himself busy helping the villagers and Ukyo, even though both Ukyo and Ruri had gently insisted he should focus on resting. But Gen was restless.

Sure, he had finally prepared his nest in the observatory, and he’d planned to spend his long-awaited heat there—but something still felt off. He would sit and stare at his nest, frowning in thought. His instincts knew what was missing, but Gen himself couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and it was starting to bug him.

It wasn’t until his last day of pre-heat, while having tea with Ruri, that everything clicked into place.

“So, have you invited anyone to spend your heat with?” Ruri asked, her tone casual but her gaze sharp as she looked at the bicolor haired omega seated across from her in her hut. It was that look—one Gen knew all too well from the 21st century. The kind of look worn by lovers of romance, fans of shoujo manga, or serial drama enthusiasts. Ruri, Gen thought, would definitely adore romance novels.

“Did you finally ask Senku?”

Gen choked mid-sip on his chamomile tea. “Wha—my dear Ruri-chan,” he sputtered, patting his chest, “may I ask what brought that on, aside from the very obvious topic of the hour?”

Ruri giggled, raising a hand to her lips in that graceful, knowing way. “Please, Gen. Everyone sees the way you two are with each other. The longing looks, the subtle touches, the shared smiles whenever you’re scheming… I may have been his wife for about three minutes and divorced the same day, but I know enough to recognize something real when I see it.”

She smiled knowingly. “It’s not the same with anyone else. Not for either of you. The whole village has seen it from the start—how attentive and careful you are with him. You act like a bonded pair. Honestly, most of us just assume you’re the chief’s mate already.”

Gen had set his teacup down while Ruri was talking, and he was glad he did—because Oh my god, did he really act like that? Am I truly that obvious? His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Ruri-chan, listen—”

“Kohaku’s right,” Ruri sighed with a small, amused smile. “You modern people are complicated.”

Before Gen could respond, her eyes lit up with mischief. “We have a phone now. Just give him a call and ask Senku yourself! You can confess your love—I’m sure he’d run here in no time… though,” she added with a dreamy expression, “I would like to see him get a little jealous first…”

“Ruri-chan!” Gen gasped, interrupting the blonde omega, effectively snapping her out of her romantic scheming.

“Ruri-chan, I know you mean well, but… it’s not that easy.” He gave a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Senku-chan… I’m sure he doesn’t have time for romance. He’s focused on reviving the rest of humanity. Finding a mate probably doesn’t even cross his mind. Besides…” Gen trailed off, his voice quieter. “I don’t think he feels the same way.”

Ruri’s lips parted in disbelief. She blinked at him before tilting her head with a knowing smile. “Has he told you that? That he’s not interested in romance or finding a mate? Or… are you just assuming?”

Gen was stunned by her bluntness. She had a point.

Had Senku ever told him outright? No. He hadn’t. Gen had simply assumed—assumed that the scientist’s mind was too occupied, too logical, too grand in ambition for something as human and vulnerable as romance. But… the alpha had never said that himself.

The idea of Senku mating with someone else hit like a stone to the gut. It stung.

Gen was, by nature, a selfish man. When it had just been the two of them—two modern minds in a sea of primitives—Gen had cherished their bond. A part of him had clung to it, afraid of losing it once the kingdoms merged and the world grew crowded again. People would clamor for Senku’s attention. And Gen? Gen would no longer have him to himself.

He thought they would’ve grown distant by now with so many people around. But strangely, they hadn’t.

Except for the times they were forced apart by their respective cycles, they were always within each other’s orbit—hovering close, quietly intertwined in a rhythm neither of them spoke aloud.

Gen groaned into his hands, burying his face. He was usually the one others turned to for advice, but in this moment, he was deeply grateful to have someone like Ruri he could confide in.

“No… Senku-chan hasn’t said anything like that,” he mumbled, “but I still don’t think someone like me is right for him.”

Ruri’s brows drew together in concern. “What makes you think that, Gen? You’re a wonderful person and beautiful, too. Senku is lucky to have you around. Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone who fits by his side better than you.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice soft but firm. “It’s okay to want things. To want people. To want… Senku-chan~” she teased, mimicking Gen’s tone with a sly smile.

Gen groaned again, this time laughing as he hid behind his sleeve. “I’ll think about it,” he said softly. “Maybe I will confess… someday. Take a leap into the unknown, like you said.” He peeked over his sleeve, eyes glinting with mischief. “But only if you take your own advice with Chrome-chan~”

Ruri’s cheeks immediately flushed. “I’ll have you know that Chrome and I…” She hesitated, color blooming deeper on her face. “We’re… aware of each other’s feelings.”

Gen’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Really? Do tell, Ruri-chan!”

Ruri coughed into her closed fist. “Ahem. This isn’t about me…” she said, quickly deflecting. “So—would you like a heat aid toy?”

“Ahh!” Gen waved his hands rapidly in front of himself. “That’s not necessary, Ruri-chan! I do know how everything works, thank you. I always appreciate your talks, but at this moment, please—I’d rather not think about the shameless things I’ll be doing in the upcoming days…”

At that, Ruri tipped her head back and laughed, a bright, chiming sound that made Gen smile despite his embarrassment.

“I’m teasing,” she said warmly. “Would you like me or Ukyo to check on you during your heat?”

Gen shook his head, a lazy smile curving his lips. “No~ I’ll be fine. Besides, Ukyo-chan will probably be busy—either hunting or scouting for resources. Now that our map’s expanded, I imagine a small group will be heading out soon to explore. I’m fully stocked on food, water… and any other supplies.”

He trailed off, already imagining the peace and privacy of the observatory. With Ukyo likely taking Kohaku, Suika, and Francois, and the rest of the villagers busy with the mines and other tasks, there wouldn’t be a single soul in the vicinity. That meant he could be as noisy as he pleased. He could even sing at the top of his lungs if the mood struck him.

“I see…” Ruri murmured, her expression still tinged with worry. “Everyone really appreciated the supplies you all brought back from Roppongi Hills… but I still worry. Someone should check on you, Gen. You’ll be all alone. Are you sure you don’t want to spend your heat here instead?”

Gen shook his head again and gave her a gentle smile. “Positive. You know how long I’ve been dreaming about having the observatory to myself. I’m not letting this chance slip by.”

Ruri exhaled slowly, seeing how determined he was. “Very well. Tomorrow morning, Kinro and Ginro will be arriving with Ryusui. I asked them to resume their guard duties—just for a little while. I’ll feel more at ease knowing someone’s nearby in case you ever need help.”

She paused, then added with a knowing smirk, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t approach your home. I’ll tell them you’ll be… quite busy.”

“Thank you, Ruri-chan.” Gen smiled softly at the omega in front of him. Already, he could feel the sweat beginning to gather beneath his clothes, his skin warm and restless. His stomach simmered like a volcano on the verge of eruption—his heat was coming. He could feel it creeping up on him, and he knew by tomorrow morning, it would hit in full.

“Hah~” He exhaled and rubbed his stomach in slow circles, trying to soothe the nervous fluttering within. “I have a feeling this heat is going to be different from the others.”

Ruri tilted her head, watching him with thoughtful eyes. “Perhaps your body is craving something more… someone to share it with. Or maybe it’s just the excitement of finally spending it in the observatory.”

Gen hummed, her words pulling his mind into focus.

It was both.

A flash of crimson eyes filled his thoughts. Hair like spring onions, a smirk that never seemed to reach his eyes but always reached Gen’s heart.

Senku.

He was the missing piece. The void in his nest. The answer to the itch in his bones and the ache in his chest. Gen’s inner omega wasn’t just seeking comfort—it was calling for him. He wanted Senku in his nest. He wanted to spend his heat wrapped in the scent and presence of the alpha who unknowingly haunted his every thought.

As he sat with that realization, he felt Ruri gently take his hands in hers.

“Everything will be fine, Gen,” she said, voice warm and certain. “Go and enjoy your small vacation.”

She inhaled slowly, her eyes softening with understanding. Something in her gaze shifted—recognition, or maybe approval, as if she could see what was now so clear to him.

“You should leave before the sun sets. I’ll walk with you, just to be safe.”

“There’s no need, Ruri-chan.” Gen gently pulled his hands from hers, letting them rest at his sides. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time. I can make it home safely.”

Ruri nodded reluctantly, her worry easing just a little.

“We’ll talk later~” Gen sang with a flutter of his fingers, his usual dramatic flair returning just enough to make her smile.

With that, he turned and left her hut, stepping into the golden light of late afternoon—his heart pounding with the knowledge of what he truly wanted, and who.

As Gen predicted, he was awoken by his heat around midday. Everything was hot, his skin covered with sweat. His stomach ached as he groaned into his pillow. Kicking the blanket aside, he tried to sit up—only to fail and collapse back down with a frustrated grunt. His throat was dry, and he was goddamn thirsty. It was only a matter of time before he started leaking slick.

Before bed, Gen had stripped down to just his undergarments—primitive, makeshift underwear and a high-collared, laced-up shirt. Now, with a second attempt, he managed to sit up, dragging himself across the floor to the crate where he kept his stash of bamboo water bottles. He grabbed one, yanked the cap off, and chugged it. Cool water spilled down his lips and chin, and only then did he realize just how parched he really was.

He let out a satisfied sigh and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Dropping the empty bottle back into the crate, he made his way to his nest, not feeling hungry just yet.

The first day of his heat always started like this—sleeping until noon, a few cramps here and there, and then, by the end of the day, came the desperation. The yearning. The craving. The pleasure.

He yawned as his eyelids began to droop. It seemed like his body was trying to store up as much energy as possible, already anticipating what was to come. He had been eating more than usual over the past few days, subconsciously preparing for this. So it wasn’t anything new.

Gen curled up in the center of his nest, pulling the worn blanket loosely over his hips. He clutched his stomach, trying to ease the small bout of pain. The fabric still carried his own scent—faintly sweet, sharp at the edges—but already, the underlying shift was starting to build. It was subtle now, but by nightfall, it would grow stronger. Pheromones would thicken the air, clinging to the sheets and clashing with the earthy scent of stone and soil that still lingered from Senku’s last visit.

His fingers toyed absentmindedly with the edge of the blanket, mind drifting. The heat hadn’t even reached its peak, and already, that aching emptiness was coiling low in his belly.

He hated this part.

Not the physical side of it—though that was hellish in its own right—but the mental spiral that always came with it. The loneliness. The way his body cried out for someone—not just anyone—to answer it.

He buried his face into the pillow again, groaning.

“Not this early, come on…” he muttered.

There was a time, back in the early days of the settlement, when he could pretend it didn’t bother him. He could distract himself with negotiations, flattery, shows of magic and flair. But the more time passed, the more it wore on him. Especially with how often he showed up in Gen’s thoughts—cool voice, stubborn brilliance, always pacing too close, scenting the air when he thought no one was watching.

Gen gritted his teeth.

Not now, he told himself. Especially not now.

But his body didn’t listen. It remembered too well. The warmth of fleeting touches. The press of fingers on his wrist during some experiment or strategy session. A shared glance that lingered too long.

And gods help him, he wondered if he asked, would that person come?

Would he even want them to?

For now, he would succumb to sleep, letting his future self deal with future problems.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Gen woke to a burning sensation deep in his gut, slick pouring steadily from his hole. Goosebumps prickled across his skin as a simmering heat pulsed in his belly, nerves on edge and thrumming. He shifted slightly—just a little—and his body jolted, already hypersensitive.

He didn’t even need to check; he knew he was hard.

He slowly reached down, the sudden movement made the fabric on his chest brush against his sensitive buds, which caused him to let out a small moan. His cheeks immediately heated up at the noise he let out, and his hand quickly disappeared underneath the fabric of primitive underwear. He wrapped his hand around his hard, aching cock, which was already leaking with precum. He shivered and began moving his hand in the familiar motion, which immediately brought him pleasure.

He hummed contentedly as he continued jerking off, his thoughts soon consumed by the Alpha that plagued his mind. The way Senku’s eyes shone brighter when they gazed at the starry night sky, the way his arms flexed, or the way his hands gripped a material—all of it. When Senku was focused, Gen couldn’t help but notice the way the Alpha stuck out his tongue when he was in deep concentration. His grins and laughs, his shoulders and back—everything about Senku consumed his mind and swallowed him whole.

Gen pretended that it was Senku’s hand that was touching him and whispering sweet nothings in his ears, which Gen ate up.

"Look at you, who knew our resident mentalist was able to make those types of expressions." Senku whispered in his ear, the phantom breath tickled the scent gland on his neck. Senku nosed the gland as he continued to speak." You smell divine, is this all for me?"

Gen would nod, there was no use denying it.

Senku let out a chuckle as he pulled back, his free hand trailed up underneath his shirt. His fingers brushed again his nipple which cause Gen to throw his head back and moan. " So desperate and needy. You look like you’re ready to fall apart and I haven’t even put my cock inside you yet."

Gen whined at the imaginary Senku, God he had it bad as he sped up his pace. It was pathetic.

"I’m going to knot you, bend you in half, gonna have my pups— you’ll look so beautiful round and full of my pups. I’m going to stuff you so much of my cum that there won’t be a single doubt that you won’t come out pregnant after this. You want that too, don’t you? Gen." Senku growled as he stared at Gen with so much intensity and hungry in his eyes.

And just like that, Gen was gone—shattering with a cry as Senku’s name tore from his throat. His ears burned with shame. He whined, mortified, because yes, that’s exactly what he wanted… and now that thought would haunt him for the rest of his heat.

With a sigh, he peeled off his soaked underwear and tossed it aside. There was no point in keeping it on—it would only end up drenched in slick and cum anyway. He knew he’d get a brief moment of clarity before the next wave crashed over him. The only question was how long it would take before he admitted his hands and fingers weren’t enough.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted the bag tucked beside his bed—the one where he kept the toy hidden. Smart of him to bring it along.

________________

Senku ruffled his hair in frustration. It wasn’t like him to make mistakes in his planning yet somehow, he’d written down the wrong material at the wrong step. He’d mixed it up. Sloppy.

He tugged at his collar. The temperature had risen lately, and everything felt stifling. The past few days had been nothing but chaotic. A few articles of his clothing were missing—specifically, the straps he used to wrap around his arms and scent glands. One day they were there. The next, gone. Vanished. He’d already asked Yuzuriha to make replacements.

Restless, agitated, Senku couldn’t shake the sense that he shouldn’t be here. Something was wrong. Instinct screamed at him to leave, to find a cooler place, to—

No. That wasn’t it. Not exactly.

And then there were the looks. People had been eyeing him differently. Like they knew something he didn’t. It was irritating.

If only Gen were here, he thought. Maybe his overactive intuition would shed some light—

That’s right. Gen was back in Ishigami Village. He hadn’t seen the omega in four days now.

Ryusui had been good on his word about the hot air balloon trips—two a day, back and forth. And every single time, the blonde alpha would ask if Senku wanted to come along, always with that smug, knowing grin.

And every time, Senku declined. He kept himself buried in building projects and planning logistics. Anything to avoid… whatever this was.

“So I heard that you—oh.”

Senku turned, catching the pause in Ryusui’s voice. The other alpha blinked, then took a step back, nose wrinkling slightly.

“You’re in rut,” Ryusui said, then grinned wider. “Or at least, about to be.”

Senku scowled, turning away sharply. A moment later, understanding settled over him like an unwanted blanket. Of course. It was bound to happen. But why now?

He ran a hand down his face, groaning. “If you’re here to lecture me, save it. I don’t want it.”

Ryusui laughed and shook his head, arms crossing over his chest. “Nope. Not my job. That’s Gen’s. So your behavior over the past few days makes a lot more sense now. What are you going to do?”

Senku shrugged, brushing off the question. “Usually, I’d go back to Ishigami Village and hole up in the observatory until it passes. But I’m still needed here. The ship’s almost complete—we just need to install the furniture and beds in the cabins. And the mobile lab still needs a few test runs to make sure it can handle both water and land travel.”

Ryusui made a face, then let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, no. That won’t do, my friend. You need a break. With you around, everyone’s going to drown in your ‘hyper-efficiency’ energy. I’m afraid you leave me no choice.”

Senku gave him a skeptical look. “What do you mean by that?”

“Leave it to me,” Ryusui said with a smug grin. “I’ll take care of things here. Ukyo and the others already left the village to scout and gather supplies—they’ll be camping out in the woods for the next few days. I got a good scolding from him about it, too.”

He tipped his head back, recalling the memory. “He poked my chest like a nagging wife, arms crossed, those sea-green eyes glaring daggers. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Senku huffed a laugh, scratching his ear nonchalantly. “He finally told you how annoying it is to keep flying back and forth?”

“No, he told me about his scouting trip and how we won’t get a chance to see each other,” Ryusui said, his tone dipping just slightly. “I mean, I’ve no doubt I could track them from the skies, but he insisted—and made me promise.”

A grin slowly stretched across his lips at the memory of that moment, quiet and meaningful.

“ ‘You’re needed more here,’ he said. So yeah…”

There was something unspoken in his tone. A promise. A thread of intimacy that made Senku arch a brow.

He stared at Ryusui, suspicion plain on his face. “Okay… I don’t even want to know. So I won’t ask.”

“Not even a little curious?” Ryusui teased.

“Nope,” Senku replied flatly, without hesitation.

“Well, when they return to the village, you’d better believe I’m rushing back to see him,” Ryusui said with a knowing smile—one that made it painfully clear he was already plotting exactly what he and his mate would do. “For now, we’re resorting to daily calls…”

Senku snorted, a thought hitting him mid-sip of water. “I feel bad for the others around him—no privacy for any of your intimate calls. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two already tried phone sex—”

“Hmmm, that’s a great idea!” Ryusui snapped his fingers in delight. “I’ll ask Ukyo next time we call.”

Senku quietly offered a prayer for the poor souls traveling with Ukyo and immediately, as if summoned by the weight of his thoughts, Gen came to mind.

“Enough about me,” Ryusui said, shifting gears with a pointed look. “Let’s talk about you. So? Gonna tough it out here, or do you need a ride to Ishigami Village?”

Senku folded his arms and weighed his options. Staying here meant pushing through his rut in the middle of a project, distracted, irritable, and if he was being honest with himself—unbearable. But heading back meant holing up in the observatory for a few days, letting it pass in isolation. Not exactly ideal, but manageable.

Still… if he timed it right, maybe he’d catch Ukyo’s group returning. Maybe he’d catch a glimpse of him.

Gen.

And maybe, just maybe, he could convince the omega to return with him.

“Oh! Senku’s leaving?” Chrome’s voice interrupted as the beta entered the lab shed. The two alphas turned to look at him.

“I’m trying to convince him to take a break—he’s going into rut,” Ryusui explained casually.

Senku scowled. “Thanks for airing out my private business.”

“Ooooh,” Chrome dragged the sound out in realization before nodding firmly, as if some idea had clicked. His eyes locked with Senku’s, burning with determination. “Don’t worry, just leave everything to me. We’re scientists, right? I already know what’s next on the roadmap. We’ve got this.”

“Really? You’re not gonna call me every hour the second you hit a snag?” Senku raised an eyebrow.

“Nah. I’m a scientist. Trial and error is our middle name.” Chrome grinned. Behind him, Ryusui nodded proudly and shot a big, not-so-subtle thumbs-up.

Senku sighed, then relented. “Fine. Tomorrow we’ll depart, Ryusui. You’ll drop me off and if anyone from the village wants to return, you already know the drill.”

Ryusui gave a confident nod.

With that, Senku left the lab and returned to his hut to pack. It wasn’t much—just the essentials. Dinner would be served soon, and he’d use that time to let everyone know he’d be gone for a few days.

Still, there was something bubbling beneath the surface. Excitement? Relief? His gut had been twisted in knots these past few days, instincts clawing at him with every moment he stayed.

But now? That tension had started to ease. His instincts weren’t screaming anymore—they were guiding him.

Heading back to Ishigami Village felt right. It was where he was needed.

It was where he was.

The wind was sharp as the hot air balloon touched down near the edge of Ishigami Village, but Senku barely felt it. Kinro and Ginro tugged on the ropes, anchoring the hot air balloon to the ground with practiced ease. It had only been a couple of hours since they’d departed from Roppongi Hills, and they’d finally reached their destination by midday.

Senku’s skin itched beneath his clothes, scent glands pulsing in waves. The ride had been tolerable at first, but somewhere halfway through the sky, the creeping onset of rut had sharpened—grown hungry. His mouth was dry. Every scent in the air felt sharp and foreign—wrong. It wasn’t what he needed.

Ryusui glanced at him as they landed, eyes narrowing slightly. “You alright?”

Senku didn’t respond at first. His jaw clenched as he unfastened the straps.

“Yeah. Thanks,” he muttered eventually, voice low and tight.

He couldn’t linger. Not here, not exposed. The pressure in his body was coiling tighter, crawling up his spine. His senses were tuned too finely—everything was too much, too little, all at once. His instincts were screaming for something familiar.

Someone.

Kinro and Ginro, unaware of his state, greeted them quickly.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon, Ryusui,” Kinro said, straightening as he approached.

“You just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Ginro grinned. “Are you gonna scout with Ukyo from the skies?”

“Maybe…” Ryusui mused, before shaking his head. “Actually, I’m just dropping off our dear Chief. Senku has business here, and I’m heading back with anyone who wants a ride to Roppongi Hills.”

“Oh, so you’re joining Ukyo’s group, Senku?” Kinro asked, looking between them.

“I want to go back!” Ginro raised a hand enthusiastically, waving it in the air.

Senku offered a short nod and a clipped explanation. “Not now. Maybe later. I’ll be brainstorming the next few days—figuring out what we’ll need for the journey and finalizing the crew list.”

The moment his primitive boots hit earth, he slung a small bag over his shoulder and turned toward the observatory.

“Well, I gotta go. Don’t bother saving me any dinner—I’m still full from last night.”

“I’m going to stick around here and help out the villagers. I’ll bring you a few supplies,” Ryusui said with a snicker, watching Senku disappear in the distance.

Kinro and Ginro stood frozen, wide-eyed at how fast Senku had taken off. They didn’t even have time to warn him that Gen was currently holed up in the observatory.

“Wait, Senku—!” Kinro called out, starting to step forward, but his brother stopped him.

Ginro grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at Kinro. “It’s fine, Kinro. It’s obvious why Senku’s here~”

Kinro flushed at the implication. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “We can’t just assume that. Ruri hasn’t mentioned anything—”

“Psht. You think Ruri would tell us? Or Gen? Please,” Ginro said, snorting. “He probably called Senku in the middle of the night, all hot and bothered. That’s why he’s here. We just need to let them do what they need to do. It’s no secret they’re basically together already. We’re just the village guards…”

He burst into laughter and threw an arm around his horrified brother’s shoulders. “Now let’s go. I’m starving, and I don’t want to be anywhere near the observatory in case we hear something that scars us for life.”

Kinro groaned but let himself be dragged away, his ears burning.

Ryusui had already exited the balloon basket and glanced over at the whispering brothers. He didn’t catch the whole conversation, but something about their reactions made his brow furrow.

His gaze shifted to the path Senku had taken. Did something happen at the lab? Was the observatory damaged?

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Whatever it was, he had a feeling Senku would be just fine… or maybe not.

Trailing after the brothers toward the village, Ryusui made a mental note to find Ruri. If anyone had answers about what the hell was going on, it would be her.

Senku picked up his pace, boots crunching against the well-worn path. The observatory was just ahead, tucked against the trees like a familiar memory. The area was quiet, save for the hum of insects and the occasional birdsong in the distance. No movement. No villagers. Just the soft, beckoning pull of instinct tugging at his chest.

His shoulders dropped slightly in relief when he saw the clearing untouched. Everything looked the same—calm, ordinary.

But just as he reached for the ladder, a sharp clatter echoed from above. Something fell. A muffled curse followed by the unmistakable sound of sniffling. Crying?

Senku froze.

Someone was there.

His brows furrowed, and heat flared low in his spine. That was his home. The place he and Gen shared. Whoever thought they could waltz in and—

He climbed the first ladder in three quick steps. Then the second. He gripped the doorknob, ready to throw it open and let loose a storm of scientific profanity—

But he stopped.

Stopped cold.

Because the moment he cracked the door open, a wave of scent hit him. Thick. Sweet. Spiced honey and warmth and Gen.

His knees nearly buckled.

Omega in heat.

The words pulsed through his skull like a thunderclap. His pupils dilated. His mouth went dry. Every nerve in his body screamed mine.

Gone was the irritation. Gone was the plan to scold or interrogate whoever dared squat in their shared space. Because now, he knew exactly who it was.

It was Gen.

And Gen was in heat.

His scent filled every corner of the observatory like sunlight, warm and radiant and impossible to ignore. Senku gritted his teeth and forced the door open the rest of the way, slow and controlled, even as his alpha instincts clawed at him to go faster.

He stepped inside.

And there huddled on the futon in a nest of blankets and spare clothes, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy was Gen.

Shaking. Sweat-dampened hair sticking to his temple. One hand buried between his legs, the other clutching at a pillow that clearly used to belong to him.

Senku swallowed hard. His body burned. His mind screamed to tread carefully.

But his alpha instincts had other ideas.

______________________

One minute Gen was fine.

The next, he was pulling the toy out of himself with a frustrated growl, glaring at it like it had personally betrayed him. His hand shook as he held it up—slick, useless, mocking—and without thinking, he hurled it across the room.

It hit the wall with a dull thud, bounced off the shelves, and landed somewhere behind the futon.

“Useless piece of shit!” Gen shouted, his voice cracking. “Oh my god—whyyy!”

Tears blurred his vision, hot and humiliating, as sobs forced their way out of his chest. He wiped at his face with trembling fingers, but they kept falling like the frustration had cracked something inside him.

No matter what he used—his fingers, that primitive toy—nothing worked anymore.

He hated this. Hated feeling like some pathetic, desperate omega who couldn’t think past the ache in his body. Hated how empty he felt, how needy. His heat-fogged brain kept whispering filth: that what he needed was an alphas knot, that he could simply go out and certainly an alpha would be lured in by his pheromones, that he needed to be bred and filled and—

His heart twisted.

No.

He didn’t want just any alpha.

He wanted Senku.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Gen sat on his knees in the center of his crumpled nest, the blankets and pillows surrounding him like a grave of dignity. His face was red, streaked with tears and sweat, and the shame only grew heavier by the second.

He leaned forward and pounded his fist on the floor. “Stupid toy,” he choked. “Why did I even bring it?”

His body ached, but the heat in his chest hurt worse. The shame. The helplessness. The longing.

He pushed himself upright again, covering his face with both hands, trying to hide from the reality of it all.

He should have called Senku.

Ruri told him to. Urged him to. Told him it wasn’t weakness to reach out—not when his body and heart both ached for the same person.

But Gen had been too afraid. Too proud. What if Senku said no? What if it made things weird? What if the only thing worse than being in heat alone… was knowing Senku didn’t want him at all?

His lip trembled as he lowered his hands.

God, it hurt.

Gen let out a shaky sigh as he grabbed Senku’s pillow—left behind weeks ago—and clutched it tight. The scent was faded but still there, clinging to the cotton like a ghost. Warm, comforting. Maddening.

He hadn’t even come. That was the worst part. He’d worked himself open with fingers, then the toy—and nothing. Just that hollow ache, the burn of denial curling low in his stomach.

No relief.

No knot.

With a bitter grunt, Gen shoved three slick-coated fingers back inside his already stretched hole. His breath hitched immediately—yes, this was better. So much better than the stupid fake knot that barely touched what he really needed.

His hips rocked against his palm, breath catching on every soft moan as he chased the high he’d been denied all morning. Sweat clung to his skin, his bangs sticking to his damp forehead, but he couldn’t be bothered to push them away.

All he could do was feel.

The slick sounds filled the room, lewd and wet, but Gen didn’t care anymore. He was past the point of shame. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted in soft, desperate gasps, the rhythm of his hand speeding up as he rutted into his own touch.

“Yes…” he whispered breathlessly, clinging to Senku’s pillow like it might anchor him through the waves of heat.

He curled his fingers, and one grazed his prostate—white-hot pleasure lit up his spine like a sparkler. Gen whimpered, full-body shivers making his nest tremble beneath him.

“Please…” he gasped, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.

No, that was a lie.

He knew exactly who he wanted. Needed.

Senku.

It was always Senku.

Every time he came during heat, it was Senku’s name on his lips. Every fantasy, every trembling hand between his thighs—always him.

It was shameful, how often he imagined it. How real it felt.

So caught up in the haze, he didn’t see the door crack open. Didn’t notice the shaft of light briefly cut through the dim observatory, or the faint scuffle of boots on wooden floorboards.

He did notice the change in scent, though.

Something rich. Familiar. Stronger than it had any right to be.

It hit him like a wave.

Alpha.

His body knew before his brain caught up, his muscles tensed, heat spiked, and that deep, grounding scent flooded the nest like a shield around him. Calming. Commanding.

Senku.

Something simmered beneath the scent restrained, trembling with the edge of something primal.

Gen’s eyes shot wide open.

It felt so possessive.

Who—?

Gen’s omega instincts sang with glee. That scent—it was too real, too perfect. But it couldn’t be. There was no way. It had to be his heat playing tricks on him, conjuring up another wild fantasy to torment him.

There was no way Senku was actually here.

Gen slowly turned toward the door.

Crimson eyes met his.

Hungry.

His breath caught—his whole body seized—

He came.

“Senku-chaan?!”

The name burst from his lips in a breathy moan, horror and pleasure crashing into each other as he spasmed around his own fingers, heart hammering in his chest. He yanked his hand out in a panic and scrambled for the blankets, hastily dragging them up to cover himself.

Mortified, Gen stared up at the alpha who’d just walked in on the most humiliating moment of his life.

He panted through the aftershocks, cheeks blazing. “What—what are you doing here?”

That seemed to shake Senku out of whatever daze had taken hold of him. He blinked hard and averted his eyes, jaw tight with restraint.

“I came here because—wait, why are you here? Not that I mind, I just—I thought you always spent your heats at Ruri’s.”

Gen pouted, clutching Senku’s pillow to his chest like it could somehow hide him from reality. His voice was small, sulking. “I wanted to spend it here… Thought the timing was perfect since no one would be around…”

His pout deepened. “You know, it’s not fair that you get to spend your ruts here, hogging the space all to yourself…”

“Oh,” Senku breathed, lips parting in realization.

He bit down on his lip, hard, and turned his gaze toward the floor. He should leave. He knew that. Gen was in the middle of his heat, vulnerable and overwhelmed. Senku needed to go—find another place to ride out his own rut. Give them both space. That was the responsible thing to do.

But leaving felt impossible.

Just one more second. Just one more look.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said hoarsely. “I thought someone else was here. I was ready to kick them out. I didn’t know it was you…”

He turned, willing his feet to move even as every instinct screamed to stay.

“I’m going now,” he added, more to convince himself than Gen. “Sorry.”

But he didn’t move fast.

Because the image of Gen—flushed, panting, slick on his thighs and a pillow to his chest—was going to haunt him.

For days.

For life.

And the fact that Gen had wanted to spend his heat here…

Gen reacted before his brain could catch up.

“Wait.”

Senku froze mid-step. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with restraint. “Yeah? Do you need something from me, mentalist?”

Gen swallowed hard. It was now or never. His body burned, but his mind had never felt clearer. The words sat on the edge of his tongue, fragile but determined.

“I’ve… I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now,” he started, voice trembling with nerves. “I know the timing’s not exactly ideal, but I swear I’m ten billion percent clear-headed right now.”

He let out a small, self-conscious giggle at the familiar phrase and pressed forward before he lost the nerve.

“I really wanted to—I want to—spend my heats with you. I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in that, or if it’d make things weird.”

“Gen—” Senku’s voice cracked like static, strained and raw.

“I know, I know, it probably sounds silly.” Gen tightened his hold on the pillow and looked down, cheeks burning. “But out of everyone, you’re the one I feel safest with. The only one I want this with. So… I’m asking.”

He dared to glance back up at Senku, his voice softening with each word.

“If you want to—if you’d even consider spending my heat with me. Right now.”

A pause.

“If not, I get it. Really, I do. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings or anything…”

His voice trailed off, the last bit barely above a whisper as he shyly gazed at the alpha standing in the doorway.

“Gen, you have no idea what you’re asking—” Senku finally turned around, his voice strained. The bag on his shoulder hit the floor with a heavy thud. “You’re in heat—”

“And I told you I’m thinking clearly,” Gen snapped, gaze sharp despite the blush across his cheeks. “I’m not being influenced by anything except my own damn feelings. I want this. I really do… you have no idea.”

He bit his lip, cutting himself off before he said too much—before he confessed just how many nights he’d dreamed of this, how long he’d waited and wondered if Senku might ever feel the same.

He could already feel the edge of his heat creeping back in—he had minutes at most. If he was going to be rejected, he needed it to happen now, while he could still recover.

Senku’s restraint began to unravel. Thread by thread. Gen’s scent, his words, his gaze—it all fed into the primal need humming under his skin. His heart roared in his chest, his Alpha instincts swelling with something dangerously close to possessiveness. Mine, his instincts screamed. He chose me.

“Are you sure?” Senku’s voice dropped low, roughened by something darker. “Absolutely positive? Because if we do this—there’s no going back. We change everything. Are you ten billion percent sure you’re okay with that?”

Gen’s breath hitched. Then he smiled, soft and radiant and sure. “Absolutely ten billion percent sure, Senku-chan~”

That was it.

Senku’s scent deepened, warm and rich and heavy with Alpha intent, enveloping the room like a second skin. The low rumble in his chest vibrated in the air between them, primal and wanting.

He looked at Gen like he was both a star to worship and a hunger to satisfy.

Boots were kicked off. The belt holding his tools was unfastened and dropped without a care beside the abandoned bag. Gen’s eyes followed every movement, pupils wide and shimmering with heat, with anticipation.

And for the first time in days, he didn’t feel frustrated. He felt chosen. Wanted.

“God, you have no idea how hard I’ve been holding myself back,” Senku murmured, voice gravelly with restrained desire as he approached the nest. “Didn’t want to hurt you.”

He stopped just short of stepping in, his eyes dragging over the sight before him—Gen, on his knees, looking up at him through long lashes, flushed and trembling, so ready. It hit Senku like a punch to the gut. The reverence in Gen’s gaze, the way he lowered the pillow to bare himself more—it was driving him wild.

Gen’s breath came fast, every beat of his heart a thunderous echo in his ears. His slick leaked anew, his body reacting instinctively to the proximity of his chosen alpha. He reached out, tugging at Senku’s hand, biting his lip. “What are you waiting for, Senku-chan? Is my nest not to your liking? Do I need to—”

Senku squeezed his hand, hard enough to make Gen gasp. His crimson gaze scanned the space, wide with awe. Pillows and blankets carefully arranged, the soft familiar textures… and—wait.

Were those…?

Senku spotted pieces of his missing clothing, tucked into the folds of the nest. His breath caught in his throat.

So that’s where those went. Oh god. Gen was going to ruin him.

“It’s perfect,” Senku breathed. “I love it.” He swallowed hard. “Such a good omega… you made a beautiful nest for us. You even included my stuff.”

Gen’s cheeks burned hot. His heart soared. Something deep and primal inside him keened in joy. His alpha liked it. His alpha saw it and wanted it. “Yes~ I thought of you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I took your clothes without asking.”

“If it’s you?” Senku lowered himself as he leaned in, brushing their foreheads together. “Take whatever you want. As much as you want. As long as it’s you.”

The growl of possession that rumbled from Senku’s chest sent shivers down Gen’s spine. There was nothing of another alpha’s scent here. Only his. Only them.

“Come in, Alpha,” Gen whimpered, tugging Senku closer. “I need you in my nest, please…”

That did it.

Senku stepped inside without hesitation, shedding every last remnant of doubt at the threshold. He knelt in front of Gen, whose eyes shimmered with relief, with joy, with love.

There was nowhere else either of them would rather be.

Gen was pleased no, relieved to have Senku finally inside his nest. The missing piece, the void, the deep, maddening itch gnawing at the edges of his sanity it all eased in an instant. The scent, the warmth, the presence of his alpha was like balm to his soul.

Without thinking, Gen leaned forward, arms winding tightly around Senku’s shoulders. He buried his face against the crook of his neck and began rubbing his cheek against Senku’s skin with slow, languid motions.

A soft, pleased purr rumbled from his chest.

“You feel so good,” Gen murmured, voice muffled as he nuzzled closer. “You smell like home.”

Senku inhaled sharply, stunned into stillness for a moment as Gen’s soft body pressed flush against him, as the omega clung with such affection. His hands hesitated in the air before carefully settling on Gen’s waist, grounding them both.

“You’re so warm,” Gen whispered. “My alpha…”

Senku’s throat bobbed with a swallow, overwhelmed with the sincerity in Gen’s tone, the rawness of it. “You really mean it?” he asked, voice quiet, unsure. “You want me?”

Gen pulled back just enough to look up at him, flushed and glowing, eyes sparkling despite the haze of heat. “I don’t want just any alpha, Senku. I want you. Only you.”

The purr didn’t stop—it deepened as Gen pressed another affectionate rub against Senku’s cheek, scenting him deliberately now, claiming him back.

Senku immediately wrapped his arms around Gen’s back, fingers gripping the fabric of the high-collared shirt the omega hadn’t even bothered to remove. He took a moment to savor it—the quiet intimacy of holding the omega of his dreams. Gen purred in contentment, and Senku felt himself slowly melt into the moment.

His throat bobbed. This was real. He was allowed this. Senku dipped his head, scenting Gen openly now, no longer trying to be discreet. He never thought this would happen—not like this.

Gen was supposed to be out scouting with Ukyo and his group. Ryusui was just supposed to drop him off. Senku had planned to hole up in the observatory and ride out his rut alone.

My rut.

Senku stilled as the realization hit him again.

It hadn’t taken full hold yet—he was still conscious, still aware. But with Gen’s heat due to spike any minute now, it would soon trigger his rut in full. And once that happened…

We haven’t talked. Not properly. The thought grounded him.

They needed to go over boundaries, what was okay, what wasn’t. They needed to talk about the mating mark. He needed to tell Gen that this—he—was on the edge of something irreversible.

Senku pulled away from the embrace, even though he already missed the warmth. The look on Gen’s face told him he wasn’t the only one.

“Gen,” Senku said quietly, leveling him with a serious look. “We need to talk before our instincts take over.”

Gen tilted his head, curious.

“What are you okay with?” Senku asked. “Is there anything I shouldn’t do?”

“Senku-chan,” Gen cooed, dragging a hand slowly down Senku’s chest, “I’d let you do anything to me~”

Senku’s tunic was still in the way, and Gen’s fingers had already found the collar.

The reaction was instant—Senku’s hands went to Gen’s waist, gripping tight. His crimson eyes flickered, conflict flashing across them.

Then he shook his head, grounding himself again.

“I—I know,” he said, voice low. “But if I do something you don’t like… I want you to tell me. I’ll stop. I need you to say something. We should pick a safe word.”

Gen blinked, then smiled softly. That Senku even brought it up—that he was trying so hard to anchor them both in consent—made something flutter in his chest.

“Something I don’t like, huh…” Gen murmured, his gaze still trained on Senku’s chest, half-exposed now as his fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric. “Well, I don’t like how you still have this on…”

He reached to undo the tunic further, his eyes gleaming like he was unwrapping a long-awaited gift.

“Gen.” Senku caught one of his wrists mid-movement, halting him gently.

Gen pouted at the interruption, but nodded. “Fine, fine. Safe word.”

He tapped a finger to his lips in thought, letting the haze clear for just a second.

“…Moonflower.”

Senku blinked, surprised. He’d expected something ridiculous like cola or maybe nightshade. But moonflower… it was soft. Delicate. Beautiful. It fit.

“Moonflower,” he repeated. “Okay. If I do something you don’t like, you say it, and I’ll stop—immediately.”

Gen smiled and nodded, voice warm. “Heard you loud and clear, Senku-chan. Same goes for you, okay? If you need me to stop—you say it.”

Their fingers remained entwined between them. Senku’s gaze dropped briefly to Gen’s still-covered neck, lingering there.

“I need to say one more thing,” Senku said, voice rougher now. “The mating bite…”

Gen’s lips parted slightly, a visible shiver going through him.

“If I bite you,” Senku continued, “we’ll be bonded. That’s a claim. It’s permanent. I’ll be your mate. I know you’ve told me what you want, but I don’t take this lightly.”

He brought their joined hands down onto his lap, grounding them both.

“I want you,” Senku said, eyes locked on Gen’s. “I want us. I want to be your mate. But I’m okay waiting until your next heat—if that’s what you need. Just know that even if we wait, things will be different between us after this.”

Gen’s breath hitched, but the way he leaned in—the way he looked at Senku made the answer in his heart very, very clear. Gen let out a soft giggle, smiling sheepishly. “Hmm? I’m finally getting special treatment? Does that include getting out of manual labor?”

Senku snorted. “You’ve always gotten special treatment. But no way—you’re still pulling your weight like everybody else. Otherwise, people will think I’m playing favorites.”

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” Gen purred, scooting closer. “I am your favorite. Who cares what they think?”

He rested his chin against Senku’s shoulder, fingers playing lightly with the edge of his tunic.

“I’m already used to the hate comments and slander. Back in the day, being a celebrity came with its perks… and its poisons.”

Senku’s expression darkened slightly. His brow furrowed as he recalled what happened just a few days ago. “I won’t let that happen again,” he said, voice firm. “Things are different now, mentalist. You don’t have to carry any of that anymore.”

Gen pulled back and studied his face for a moment, something tender in his gaze. Then he tilted his head slightly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “…I’m perfectly fine with either option, you know. Whether we bond now or wait. As long as I’m with you, I couldn’t be happier.”

Senku let out a quiet breath, his eyes softening as he looked at him.

“Tough luck getting rid of me now,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against Gen’s hand. “We vowed we’d go to hell together.” His voice dropped a note lower, full of quiet conviction. “So I need you by my side.”

With that, Gen brushed Senku’s collar aside and leaned in, pressing a kiss directly to the alpha’s neck—right over his scent gland. A long, deliberate lick followed, warm and slow, before he began to tease with soft nibbles and gentle suction. Not quite biting… but close.

Senku’s hands immediately returned to his waist.

The air in the room seemed to thicken, heat pooling between them. That familiar ache in Gen’s stomach returned with a vengeance.

His heat was back.

And this time, it was impossible to ignore.

His hands roamed across Senku’s chest, fingers trailing the ridges of muscle before slipping beneath the tunic and tugging it down. The fabric gave way easily, revealing the pale skin of the alpha’s collarbone and chest. As Gen shifted and climbed onto Senku’s lap, the blanket slipped from his waist just enough to reveal the soft curve of his thighs.

Senku’s hands traveled from Gen’s waist to his back, then down, gripping the swell of his hips as he pulled him further into his lap. Gen gasped, straddling him with ease, their bodies slotting together as if they were made for this.

Slick dripped freely from his entrance now, warm and shameless, the scent thick in the air. There was no hiding it—not with the blanket pushed aside, not with the flush across Gen’s cheeks or the hungry glint in his eyes.

He pulled back from Senku’s neck at last, a thin string of saliva connecting his lips to the now-purpled spot on the alpha’s scent gland. He looked up through his lashes, eyes glassy and dark with need.

Senku’s breath caught.

Gen’s scent clung to him—sweet, heady, uniquely his. Something in Senku’s chest cracked under the pressure. Crumbled.

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

Not when Gen looked at him like that—hungry, vulnerable, and so utterly sure.

There was no doubt—Gen’s slick-coated thighs were soaking through Senku’s tunic, their bodies pressed so close that it felt like they were melting into each other. With trembling hands, Gen tugged at the ribbon holding the bottom of Senku’s outfit together. It came loose easily, undone by need.

Senku cupped Gen’s jaw, fingers slightly shaking, his thumb brushing along the omega’s soft lower lip. His eyes drank in the sight of Gen’s flushed cheeks, the dazed look in those smoky eyes.

“You’re driving me insane,” Senku whispered, voice low and frayed. His gaze dipped to Gen’s parted lips. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Gen’s lashes fluttered. “I have some idea,” he murmured, breath hitching. “Because the same thing’s happening to me.”

Senku didn’t need another invitation.

He leaned in—and finally kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed. Not frantic. Not yet. It was slow, deep, and full of everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d held back for too long. Gen melted into it, sighing into Senku’s mouth, hands threading into wild strands of hair and pulling him closer with quiet desperation.

A low groan rumbled in Senku’s throat, vibrating between them. The alpha inside him swelled with pride, hunger, and raw possessiveness. His tongue swept against Gen’s lips, and the omega moaned—lips parting, welcoming him in.

The kiss turned messy, deeper, hungrier.

Gen’s thighs trembled as he instinctively ground down, his slick making everything wet, hot, and unbearably sticky. He could feel the hard outline of Senku’s arousal through their clothes.

“Senku—” he gasped against his lips, breaking the kiss, panting and flushed. “I want you… I need you, alpha. Please.”

Senku pressed their foreheads together, his breath uneven. His entire body was trembling with restraint.

“Then you’ll have me,” he whispered, voice rough and reverent. “All of me. I’m yours, Gen.”

A soft, breathy whimper escaped Gen as his fingers curled into Senku’s shoulders. “Good,” he whispered, smile wobbly. “Because I don’t think I can survive this heat without you.”

Their lips crashed together again, this time with a different kind of need—desperate and consuming. The room echoed with wet, needy sounds as their mouths met over and over, Gen’s hips rolling against Senku’s, guided by strong hands that urged him into a steady grind.

Their kisses turned filthier—open-mouthed, tongues colliding, saliva spilling and dripping down their chins. Senku bit Gen’s lower lip, earning a sharp, breathless moan in return.

And then Senku’s hands curled into the fabric of that damned high-collared shirt Gen still wore. It was in the way. It needed to go.

Without warning, Senku gripped it and yanked, the sound of tearing fabric sharp in the air.

Gen yelped in surprise. “Senku-chan!”

But the alpha was already slipping it off his arms, tossing it somewhere behind them without a second thought.

Senku pulled away from Gen’s lips just long enough to press a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth to his neck, murmuring between them, “S’orry. I’ll ask Yuzuriha to make you another one.”

Senku placed his hands on Gen’s lower back and shifted onto his knees, holding the bi-colored omega close. With ease, he lifted Gen for a brief moment before carefully lowering him onto the nest beneath them.

Gen lay back willingly, spreading his legs further in welcome. Senku slipped his hands down, fingers gripping the bottom half of his own tunic and tugging it off in one smooth motion. His gaze swept down, taking in every inch of the man beneath him.

He paused.

There was no rush. Not when Gen looked like this.

It was no secret to anyone how attractive Gen Asagiri was—elegant, striking, almost ethereal. But no one else would ever get to see him like this. Flushed. Bare. Eyes dark with want. Laid out just for him.

And that thought alone made something in Senku’s chest tighten with heat and pride.

Mine.

Gen’s two-toned hair spread like a halo against the pillow, framing his face in soft waves. A few strands fell away from his forehead, exposing more of that smooth, familiar skin. He stared up at Senku with a look that made the alpha feel like he was the sun—like he was everything.

And Senku? He looked at Gen like a man starved.

His gaze dropped to the omega’s chest, fixating on the soft pink buds rising and falling with every breath. Slowly, deliberately, Senku leaned down and dragged his tongue across one.

Gen jolted with a sharp, choked whine, arching his back. “Senku-chan… please…”

That was all it took.

Senku closed his lips around the bud and sucked gently, swirling his tongue before lightly grazing it with his teeth. One hand reached down and hooked behind Gen’s thigh, pulling it up snug against his waist. The other hand slid across Gen’s chest to tease the other bud, fingers pinching, rolling, and then drawing soft, teasing circles.

Gen moaned, high and breathy. One hand gripped the back of Senku’s head, fingers tangling into wild hair, while the other rose to cover his mouth in reflex.

But Senku wasn’t having that.

He let go of Gen’s chest just long enough to catch the wrist and pull it away from his mouth, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I want to hear you,” he said, voice low, almost commanding. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now…”

The teasing edge in his voice sent a visible shiver down Gen’s body. His thighs twitched, and Senku noticed.

With a grin, the alpha dipped his head again, brushing his lips over the other nipple. “You’re usually so talkative,” he murmured. “Does it really take this much to shut you up?”

His eyes flicked up just in time to catch Gen’s expression—mouth parted, lashes fluttering, face flushed and dazed.

Beautiful.

Senku chuckled against the omega’s bud, sending a jolt of pleasure down Gen’s spine. “Well?”

“Q-quite the opposite, actually…” Gen panted, his voice shaky. “I’m usually more loud, but with everything that’s happened—and the lack of privacy—I’ve gotten used to keeping quiet. I guess it’s become a habit…”

He let out a breathy laugh, flustered, then added in a low murmur, “Who knew Senku-chan could be so perverted?”

“Perverted?” Senku’s body shook with laughter, the sound low and rough. Gen pouted as he waited for it to die down. But when it did, the way Senku looked at him made his breath catch—like a predator who’d just been dared to chase. “No, no,” the alpha said, voice suddenly darker, amused. “This isn’t even a millimeter close to how perverted I can be.”

Gen blinked, caught off guard, pulse fluttering. He could feel more slick trickle out, heat pooling in his stomach as his curiosity sharpened into something deeper. His thighs tensed.

Senku’s words echoed in his ears—part warning, part promise. Gen swallowed hard, trying not to squirm under the weight of that gaze.

“Tempting words,” he whispered, voice breathless, teasing. “Care to give me a demonstration? You could just be all bark and no bite.”

Senku leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Gen’s ear, his breath hot.
“I assure you,” he murmured, “I bite. The question is—how far are you willing to let me go?”

A shiver ran through Gen, his legs tightening around Senku’s waist before he could stop himself. His body answered before his mind caught up, desire flaring bright and raw.

“…I’ll let you know when to stop,” Gen whispered, eyes half-lidded and daring.

He didn’t miss the spark that flared in Senku’s eyes at that answer—dangerous, delighted, hungry.

The two crashed into a heated, messy kiss—raw and breathless, fueled by desire and longing. Their hands roamed instinctively, greedily. Gen’s fingers gripped Senku’s shoulders, then slid down the planes of his back, nails grazing skin. Senku’s hands wandered Gen’s sides, fingers brushing the sensitive dips of his waist before coming to a stop at the blanket draped over him.

With a firm tug, Senku pulled the fabric aside. Gen gasped sharply, and that sound alone told Senku what he already suspected—the omega was fully exposed beneath.

The scent hit him immediately.

The rich, heady mix of heat and slick invaded the air, warm and overwhelming. It made Senku dizzy with need. A low growl threatened to rise from his throat as the burn in his belly intensified, curling and rising.

He leaned back in, lips now moving lower. He trailed kisses from Gen’s jaw down to the crook of his neck, to that delicious, tempting scent gland that called to him like a drug. He pressed his nose to it and inhaled deeply—gods, Gen smelled divine.

Addictive.

Senku’s lips curved into a smirk as he remembered the teasing from earlier. Time to return the favor.

He licked over the gland, slow and deliberate, then let his teeth graze it lightly—just enough to send a shock through Gen’s body. He finished with a dark, blossoming hickey, proud of the mark left behind.

Gen wasn’t lying when he said he could be loud.

The soft sighs, the gasping moans, the way Gen choked back sounds only to fail gloriously—it was music to Senku’s ears. And something inside him purred with satisfaction. Pride. Possession. Smug joy.

He was the one drawing those sweet, desperate sounds from Gen’s lips.

Mine.

The word echoed in Senku’s mind like a mantra, each syllable pulsing with primal certainty.

Senku was so hard it felt like his dick might fall off—anatomically impossible, of course, but at this point, the ache was unbearable. Every pulse throbbed with the need to be buried deep inside Gen’s slick, inviting heat.
But something in him whispered, not yet.

He wasn’t done tasting.

Rolling his hips forward, he ground his arousal against Gen’s, and they both groaned at the electrifying friction—sharp, wet, perfect.

Then a thought prickled in the back of Senku’s mind. A faint itch of forgotten logic, buried under the weight of instinct and lust. He leaned back onto his knees, needing a moment, needing a look.

And what a view it was.

Gen lay sprawled across the bedding, lips swollen and pink from their kisses, eyes hazy and glassy with heat. His chest heaved with each panting breath, nipples marked in shades of pink and purple where Senku had lavished attention. He looked ruined—and they hadn’t even started yet.

Senku’s eyes raked down further, lingering at the omega’s most intimate spot. Slick glistened between Gen’s thighs, glimmering in the low light, his hole clenching around nothing, shamelessly exposed. His legs were spread wide, feet braced on the floor, knees bent—presenting, offering. It was obscene. Gorgeous.

They’d seen each other naked before—bathing together back in Ishigami Village wasn’t uncommon when it was just the two of them. But it was always platonic, casual, interrupted by Chrome or others. Back then, something about Chrome joining them always irritated Senku, though he hadn’t understood why.

Now he knew.

Seeing Gen like this, laid bare and desperate, was nothing like the fleeting glances from their old communal baths. This was real.

This was his.

Senku’s heart thundered as he stared, breath caught in his throat. Gen looked better than anything he’d conjured up in the quiet agony of his solitary ruts.

And then—
Oh.

That’s right.

How could he forget?

“Gen, there’s something I need to tell you—”

Whatever Senku had intended to say completely disintegrated as he watched the omega reach between his own legs. Gen’s fingers dipped between his thighs, parting his slick folds with practiced ease. His index and ring finger held himself open while his middle finger slowly sank inside.

Senku stopped breathing.

Holy mother of science.

His mouth went bone-dry, tongue thick behind his teeth. The sight left him parched—thirsty in a way no water could fix.

Gen hummed softly, watching with sly satisfaction as the usual sharp crimson of Senku’s irises darkened, pupils blown wide until only a thin ring of red remained. That look—utterly wrecked and ravenous—sent a thrill through Gen.

He bit down on the index finger of his free hand that wasn’t occupied , eyes never leaving Senku’s face. “I already stretched myself out,” he said sweetly, voice dripping with seduction. “It’s nice and ready for you, my dear alpha~”

Senku groaned—god, yes—his hands clenched at his sides. But he forced his eyes away, tried to anchor himself in logic before he lost it completely.

“Wait—Gen,” he said thickly, voice low and rough. “My rut.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to speak past the heat building inside him. “I’m entering my rut. That’s why I’m… here.”

“Oh?” Gen blinked slowly, then smiled like the sun had kissed his lips. That’s why he was so sensitive, so reactive. “That’s fine~” he purred, clearly unbothered. If anything, he seemed more eager.

“Is that all? Because I really want Senku-chan to touch me—preferably around… here.”

And then Gen gave him a show.

He curled his finger inside himself, slow and deliberate, swirling it just enough for the squelch of slick to be audible in the tense air. Senku’s eyes followed the motion like he was under hypnosis, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

“You’re pretty flexible, right?” Senku asked, though the answer was already etched into his memory.

“Mmhmm. Very flexible,” Gen purred, giving a small, teasing nod.

Senku surged forward without another word, gripping the backs of both Gen’s thighs and pushing them up. His eyes honed in on the slick hole between them, glistening and tempting. Gen let out a surprised squeak, one hand flying to grip the sheets while the other abandoned its spot between his thighs.

“Ah—!” he gasped.

Senku leaned in and dragged his tongue in one long, deliberate stroke over the flushed entrance. It should’ve been impossible for slick to taste good—but of course, Gen was a natural anomaly, defying every expectation Senku had catalogued.

And Senku? He dove in like a starving man.

He plunged his tongue inside, mouth sloppily working at the source of that maddeningly sweet taste. Slick and heat clung to his lips, and he drank it in, slurping with abandon as though Gen were his only salvation. A low growl hummed in his throat, a sound of approval, need, and possession.

Gen’s cry was breathless and high-pitched, bordering on a whine. “S-Senku-chan!” His voice cracked as his body trembled. His vision blurred with pleasure, ears burning at the obscene noises being made between his legs—squelching, slurping, all of it echoing in his ears like a song of surrender.

He couldn’t help it—his hips rolled forward, grinding against Senku’s face in instinctive need. “Senku-chan~!”

His own cock throbbed between them, neglected and needy, drooling precum without a single touch.

Gen mewled again, overwhelmed and euphoric. This is so much better than that stupid toy or my fingers~ he thought, drunk on sensation.

Senku finally pulled back, licking his lips and humming with satisfaction. He blew a light breath over the twitching entrance and grinned when it clenched in response. His cock pulsed painfully at the sight, a thick string of precum dribbling down his length.

His gaze trailed up Gen’s body—past the flushed chest, the heaving breaths—to finally settle on Gen’s cock.

It was small and pretty, flushed a deep pink, twitching against his stomach. Cute, Senku thought, his analytical mind kicking in for just a moment. He knew the biological difference—male omegas tended to have smaller cocks compared to alphas—but seeing it in person, hard and begging for attention, did something to him.

It made him want to ruin Gen even more.

But first, Senku indulged himself a little longer. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the inside of Gen’s thighs, occasionally letting his teeth graze sensitive skin. Each nip earned a gasp or a tremble. He was methodical, almost reverent—like he was savoring the last tastes before the final course.

Then, finally, he leaned down, tongue poised to give Gen’s neglected cock some much-needed attention.

But before he could, a hand shot out and gripped his hair, halting him.

Senku grunted, more annoyed at the interruption than anything, but when he looked up, he froze. Gen’s face was flushed, his lips parted, his eyes pleading.

“If you do that… I’ll come,” Gen panted. “I wanna come with you inside me. Please… stop teasing me.”

That tone. That desperation. Who knew Gen could sound so needy, so honest in his want?

Senku’s lips curled into a familiar smile—the one Gen had seen a hundred times before. The one he wore when something sparked that insane brilliance in him. A new invention, a dangerous experiment… or apparently, an omega begging to be bred.

Gen’s breath caught as Senku finally stripped off the last of his primitive undergarments. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, long and thick and so much more than Gen had imagined. Slick pooled beneath him at the sight, and his mouth watered.

A thought flickered across his mind—Would it even fit?—but he quickly pushed it away. He’d waited too long. Nothing was stopping him now.

Senku gripped his cock and tapped the head lightly against Gen’s entrance. The omega’s body responded instantly, the rim fluttering, trying to pull him in. That alone made Senku groan.

He pressed forward slowly, his tip breaching the ring of muscle inch by inch. Heat enveloped him, tight and wet and perfect. Senku’s breath hitched, jaw clenching as he fought the urge to slam in all at once.

Gen moaned, head thrown back, body arching as his mind screamed Yes, yes, finally!

Once Senku was deep enough that he needed leverage, he slid his hands beneath Gen’s thighs and pushed them up—folding him into a mating press. Gen let it happen with no resistance, panting helplessly, eyes glossy and unfocused.

Senku paused to admire the view. His cock was slowly being swallowed, inch by inch, disappearing into Gen’s folds as if the omega’s body was made for him.

“Fuck,” Senku breathed, voice raw with awe and hunger. “You’re sucking me in like you’ve waited your whole life for this.”

“I have,” Gen whimpered. “Now move, Senku-chan, please—fuck me already!”

Senku bottomed out, his pelvis flush against Gen’s ass, their bodies joined completely. For a moment, he stayed there—panting, trembling, savoring the tight, hot grip around him.

Then instinct roared to life.

His alpha urged him forward. Ruin him, it whispered. Breed him. Make sure no one else can ever have him. Fill him until he’s leaking with your cum. Until he’s round and heavy with your pups.

The images flooded his rut-clouded mind—Gen, glowing and full, holding a small bump beneath a loose robe, maybe one pup or two. Wide hips, sleepy eyes, soft sighs as Senku kissed his growing belly, swearing to protect them both.

He’d be a good mate. A good father. He knew he would. Science could only prepare you for so much, but this—this—was something he felt in his bones.

Gen was his.

Senku drew back, only to snap his hips forward, starting with a steady rhythm that grew rougher and more erratic with every thrust. His hands tightened around Gen’s thighs, holding him in place as the force of each stroke made the floor beneath them creak, the sound a stark contrast to the wet sounds filled the room, slick squelching with each brutal drive in and out, paired with Gen’s cries of pleasure and the slapping of skin.

Each powerful thrust sent ripples through Gen’s body, his back arching, toes curling. The omega gasped, barely able to keep up with the pace Senku set—driven purely by the primal need to claim.

“Mine,” Senku growled into the curve of Gen’s throat, his lips brushing the gland he’d teased earlier with teeth and tongue. “You’re mine, Gen. Only mine.”

Gen’s nails dragged down Senku’s back, leaving thin red lines in their wake. He felt Senku’s breath fan over his cheek, their faces close, lips brushing with every gasped breath.

“Yours,” Gen whispered shakily, eyes half-lidded. “Only yours. I swear—on whatever brilliant scientist you worship.”

Senku’s crimson eyes flared, pupils blown wide with rut. Every roll of his hips was precise, purposeful—striking that soft, sweet place inside Gen with practiced ease. But Gen could feel it. The shift. The aim. Senku was reaching deeper now, searching for something primal.

Oh stars! He’s trying to aim for my—

The thought scattered when Senku pulled out suddenly. Gen whined instinctively at the sudden emptiness, blinking up in confusion.

“Easy,” Senku murmured, voice roughened by desire and instinct. He brushed his lips over Gen’s temple and guided him with gentle hands, rolling him onto his side before shifting again.

Gen didn’t need directions. He knew this position. Knew what it meant.

He turned over, hands and knees on the floor, presenting himself in the most vulnerable, most natural way an Omega could. His hips swayed, scent thick with longing and heat, a lure no Alpha in rut could ignore.

Senku chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating from deep in his chest. “Tempting me like that when I’m barely holding on?” His hands slid down Gen’s spine and rested on the small of his back, guiding him into a deep arch.

“I’m not tempting,” Gen said, glancing over his shoulder with a dazed smile. “I’m asking. Please, Senku—”

That was all it took. Senku lined himself up and pushed back in, slow but relentless, until their hips met and Gen gasped, trembling beneath the weight of him.

“So deep,” he moaned, arms quaking from the strain.

Senku growled softly and leaned forward, lips brushing Gen’s shoulder, then up his spine. “You’re amazing,” he whispered. “You take me so well, Gen. So warm… so perfect. It’s like you were made for me.”

Gen’s mind swam in heat and praise, his slick dripping, his whole body alight with pleasure.

Senku’s movements grew more desperate, more erratic. He was losing the battle to his rut, the need to claim, to tie, to mark—

“I can feel it,” Gen gasped, voice cracking. “Your knot…”

Senku leaned forward, his chest brushing against Gen’s back, lips trailing up his spine to his shoulder. Then he gently reached for Gen’s hands, lacing their fingers together and bringing them forward, pressing them to Gen’s stomach—where every deep movement could be felt in full.“I’ll make sure you take all of it,” he murmured. “Every drop.”

Gen could only cry out in response, his world narrowing to the rhythm of Senku’s hips, the hand holding his, and the Alpha voice anchoring him through the storm.

Gen felt unbearably hot, every nerve lit up beneath Senku’s body. His hand, caught between their bodies, trembled with need. He could feel everything—every pulse, every twitch—but it still wasn’t enough. His omega instincts clawed at him from the inside, desperate for more, for deeper, for the bond.

“M-More…” he whimpered.

Senku paused for a breath, voice low and teasing. “What was that?”

“More!” Gen sobbed, face flushed and damp. “I need you—harder, deeper—please, Senku-chan!” He didn’t even know what he was asking for anymore, only that he needed to feel closer. The pressure was too much, the pleasure too sharp. It felt like Senku had been so close to something before—close to where he truly needed him.

Senku’s laugh was low and warm against Gen’s ear. “My omega’s asking so sweetly…”

A flicker passed through Senku’s gaze—focused, primal—and then he shifted. He adjusted his angle with a measured roll of his hips, searching, chasing something deeper.

The moment he found it, Gen cried out.

It wasn’t like before—this felt more primal, more real. Senku’s movements slowed, deliberate, aiming with each thrust. He wasn’t just chasing release anymore—he was claiming him, grounding him, securing something that went far beyond heat and rut.

Gen sobbed with every breathless moan, hands scrambling for purchase. Senku wrapped an arm around him, holding him close as he pushed forward again, and Gen could swear he felt something inside him flutter.

My womb… he’s aiming for my womb!

The thought echoed wildly in Gen’s mind, almost drowned out by the heady heat coursing through his body. He could feel Senku’s knot swelling inside him, every instinct in his omega body trembling in anticipation.

Gen’s voice broke in a desperate cry. “God, yes! Breed me—I want you to breed me, Alpha!”

Senku groaned, the sound primal and possessive. “Yeah… I’m gonna fill you up,” he rasped. “You’ll be full and round, carrying our pups. So beautiful. You’ll make a perfect mother… all the other alphas will be jealous when they see you glowing with my scent.”

“Bite me,” Gen begged, voice raw. “Mark me—please, Senku…”

Senku paused, lips brushing the back of Gen’s neck. “Are you sure?”

Gen nodded frantically. “Yes. Yes, I’m yours—always.”

They were both close now, bodies slick with heat, the weight of their bond drawing them closer with every breath. Gen barely registered it when Senku lifted off his back—he could only feel the rumble of the alpha’s growl vibrating through him, echoing through the room like thunder. A heavy wave of pheromones flooded the air, drowning out every remaining thought.

He was completely surrounded, overwhelmed by Senku’s presence.

Gen didn’t even flinch when Senku’s hand landed beside his face, or when the other gripped his hip with firm possession. If anything, it made the heat rise in his chest all over again.

Senku pressed back against him, chest to back, curling around him like he was protecting something fragile and precious. One hand slipped down to stroke Gen’s length in rhythm with their movement. The other hovered near his neck, where his scent gland pulsed with anticipation.

Senku’s tongue flicked against it, teasing the sensitive spot with soft licks. Gen whimpered, pressing back against him, lost in the moment, lost in him.

Senku finally bit him—marking him, claiming him—and Gen swore he saw stars. His vision went white, his back arched, and he screamed as he came, his release crashing into him like a wave. Inside, Senku’s knot swelled, locking them together as he spilled deep, his seed pressing right against Gen’s womb.

Senku licked the bite mark in apology, soft and reverent. Beneath him, Gen trembled, still milking Senku for all he was worth, gasping for breath as pleasure pulsed through him.

Gen’s knees eventually gave out. Senku caught him, gently maneuvering them to lie on their sides, his arm wrapping securely around Gen’s waist. With his knot still nestled inside, locking them in place, they had no choice but to wait for the swelling to subside.

Gen’s eyelids began to droop. “How long until your knot…?”

“About ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” Senku answered, voice low with concern. “Are you okay? Did I bite too hard?”

Gen chuckled weakly, head resting on the pillow. “No… it was perfect.”

“Good,” Senku murmured, brushing his lips against Gen’s neck. “Next time, it’s your turn to bite me.”

Gen’s heart fluttered at the thought. “Okay.” Sleep tugged at the edges of his mind. “…I love you.”

Senku’s arms tightened around him, his chest rumbling softly as a purr rose from deep within. He pressed a kiss to Gen’s head.

“Yeah?” he whispered. “I love you too.”

Gen was the first to drift off, safe and warm in Senku’s hold. Senku followed soon after, their bond sealed in more ways than one.

_____________

Bonus +

Ryusui finished up his lunch, clearing his plate with a satisfied sigh. It was no secret that Francois had been teaching a handful of villagers how to cook modern dishes—some even said they had improved Senku’s ramen recipe. Francois’s cooking classes were open to anyone curious enough to join.

Today’s meal had been impressive: pan-fried fish served alongside glazed root vegetables—sweet potatoes, parsnips, and carrots. A warm, hearty dish. Ryusui was particularly impressed with Ganen and Ruby, who had clearly put their hearts into the preparation. Both were avid food lovers, and it showed.

“Was that everyone? Anyone want seconds?” Ruby asked, scanning the crowd of happy, full villagers. She took Francois’s lessons very seriously—convinced that one day, she’d win a man’s heart through his stomach.

“I would if I could, my sweet sister, but I’m too stuffed,” Garnet sighed dramatically, dropping off her empty plate where Sango and Beryl were stationed. It was their turn for dishwashing duty today. Garnet offered a quick thank-you and turned to see Sapphire savoring her last spoonful with an expression of bliss.

“Mmm! Maybe I should start taking Francois’s classes if the food turns out like this every time,” Sapphire said, cupping her cheek dreamily. “Although… I do prefer sweets.”

Ganen clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Food is a sacred gift. Every dish should be consumed down to the last drop!”

Ryusui threw his head back and laughed. “Agreed! I can see why you two are Francois’s most promising students. Would you ever consider working for me in the future? I promise I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Ruby tilted her head. “I still don’t quite understand that whole currency thing you modern folks invented… but if it means I can buy some of those cute dresses Yuzuriha made for the department store, then count me in!”

“As long as I get to try every modern dish out there, I could die happy,” Ganen sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. He often fantasized about the delicacies of the old world, described so vividly by the revived moderns.

Ginro, after much grumbling and dramatic sighing, went around collecting plates—forced into service by his ever-stern brother.

“Why me,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing Ryusui’s empty plate and trudging off.

“We have to return to our post to guard the village,” Kinro reminded him coolly as he took a sip of water. “And because you seem to think stepping away from our duty means you’re exempt from doing any work.”

“What are we even guarding the village from?!” Ginro cried, throwing his arms up as Sango took the plate from his hands. He gestured theatrically at the peaceful village scene. “There’s no more war! We know everyone in this village—we’re basically all besties! Who’s going to attack us now? A squirrel? Worms?! Come on, Kinro, we’re in the era of peace. There’s no threat anymore! We can relax!”

“Orders are orders,” Kinro replied firmly, though his expression softened just slightly. “We were assigned this duty for a reason. And don’t forget why we were sent back to the village.”

He leveled a serious look at his brother. “You really want to be the one to tell Kohaku that you couldn’t follow her sister’s request?”

Ginro’s eyes widened. “Nope! Forget I said anything!” he squeaked in horror. “This conversation never happened. It never existed in the first place!”

Ryusui chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the two brothers bicker. There was something comforting about their banter—it made him think of his own brother.

He hadn’t seen Sai in ages, but he had no doubt his older brother was still out there somewhere, his statue still intact. Ryusui could feel it in his gut—some unshakable instinct. One day, they would reunite. And when that day came, maybe Ryusui would finally ask the question that had always lingered at the back of his mind.

Why did you leave?

What misunderstanding drove us apart?

He wanted to clear the air. He wanted Sai to meet Ukyo, his mate—his calm amidst the storm. He wanted to show him the future they were building together.

But for now, Ryusui would wait.

Wait for Senku to reach his goal. Wait for the infinite revival fluid. Wait for the ship to be complete so they could sail once more.

And when the time came, he’d chase that future with everything he had.

Maybe once everything was in place, he’d bring it up. That he knew a genius mathematician—a programmer who used to be a university professor before the world reverted back to the Stone Age.

“Ryusui? Don’t take offense, but may I ask why you’re here? Did you come to help Ukyo?”

Ryusui blinked out of his thoughts and turned to see Ruri smiling at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. She stood poised and graceful, though he could tell she was searching past him, likely hoping to spot the familiar brown-haired beta she loved. Behind her, Jasper and Turquoise trailed dutifully, acting as her guards.

Ryusui’s grin returned with its usual mischief. “No, but I wouldn’t say no if my love asked for help. Are you looking for Chrome? He didn’t want to tag along for this trip, but I’d be more than happy to escort you back. I’m always up for reuniting lovers.”

He snapped his fingers with a wink, and Ruri blushed, shyly tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear. “N-Not today… Maybe when Kohaku and her group return.”

“Very well,” Ryusui replied with an elegant shrug. But then he remembered the real reason he’d been seeking her out. “Actually, it’s perfect timing that you’re here, Ruri. There’s something I need to ask.”

Ruri’s smile faded slightly as she caught the shift in his tone. She stepped closer to the blonde alpha, leading him away from the crowd. With a brief nod, she signaled Jasper and Turquoise to give them space.

“What is it? Does it have to do with why you’re here?”

“Yes,” Ryusui said, glancing back toward the distance, where the observatory stood tall, the Kingdom of Science flag rippling in the wind. “I came with Senku. Kinro and Ginro were being… secretive, and I couldn’t shake the feeling something might’ve happened at the clearing.”

“Senku?” Ruri’s eyes widened, her head snapping around in search of platinum-blonde hair tipped in green. “He’s here? Where is he?”

Ryusui studied her with a thoughtful expression. “Did Senku not tell you why he wanted to come back?”

Ruri shook her head no.

Ryusui raised a brow at the blonde omega’s sudden urgency. “I brought him back because he was entering his rut. He usually spends it at the observatory, so I dropped him off and followed Kinro and Ginro here. Figured I’d wait for you so you could answer my question. I promised him I’d drop off a few supplies—”

Ruri suddenly gripped his shoulders, startling him with the surprising strength in her delicate hands. “Senku’s in rut?! Kinro! Ginro!”

She turned and called the brothers over, her voice sharp and commanding. Kinro approached, dragging a reluctant Ginro behind him by the collar.

“You called?” Kinro asked.

“Why didn’t you stop Senku?! You knew Gen was holing up in the observatory—I told you!” Ruri snapped, her frustration bubbling over. Kinro leaned back, caught off guard by her intensity.

Ginro straightened up and waved his hands quickly. “Oh, come on, Ruri! You knew why Senku was here! To spend Gen’s heat with him. They’re probably getting to the good part right about now. There was nooo way I was sticking around for that.”

He shuddered visibly. Just the thought made him queasy—who knew how loud they were being right now?

“Gen’s in heat?” Ryusui did a double take, glancing at the observatory in the distance, then back to the group. “Shit.”

“How long ago did you leave Senku?” Ruri asked urgently.

“Fuck—maybe an hour ago?” Ryusui cursed, already breaking into a jog toward the bridge. Ruri followed not far behind.

“Come on, Kinro, Ginro!” she called back.

“Ruri!”

“Where are you going?” Jasper and Turquoise both called after her.

“I’ll be fine! We’ll be right back!” she shouted over her shoulder without breaking stride.

“What’s going on?” Ginro huffed, picking up his pace.

Kinro slapped the back of his brother’s head. “I knew this was a bad idea, but nooo—I had to listen to you. I’m ashamed of myself.”

“Ow!” Ginro whined, rubbing his head. “So wait—does that mean Gen didn’t call Senku over?”

“No!” Everyone chorused at once.

“I know Senku,” Kinro added. “He would’ve gone anywhere else to ride out his rut. Somewhere isolated.”

“You think so?” Ginro asked. “Like the laboratory? Or maybe a cave?”

“Senku can restrain himself to an extent,” Ryusui said, pushing through the brush on the path to the mainland. “But if he ran into Gen an omega in heat and probably the love of his life… in a compromising position? I can see those walls crumbling fast.”

“Knowing Gen, he most likely asked Senku to spend his heat with him,” Ruri said gently, stepping over a fallen log. “The timing’s bad, but I’m sure he asked with a clear mind. If Senku refused, Gen would never force him. Those two love and respect each other too much.”

As the clearing came into view, the forest air felt suddenly heavier, thick with the remnants of pheromones and tension—and the unmistakable promise of consequences.

“If the situation calls for it, I’ll grab Gen and you hold Senku back. Since I’m a mated alpha, his heat has no effect on me, so I won’t pose a threat. Ukyo’s and my scents have merged since we mated—Gen might recognize something familiar in me,” Ryusui explained briefly.

Kinro nodded, absorbing the instructions with a serious expression, while Ryusui drew a slow breath to steady himself.

“…Right. Let’s do this.”

The two alphas moved carefully through the trees toward the observatory, keeping quiet with every step. The closer they got, the thicker the scent in the air became—pungent with heat and alpha musk, strong enough to cloud the senses. Kinro gritted his teeth, his face flushed as the pheromones started to affect him. Ryusui, breathing through his mouth, remained composed; the mating bond with Ukyo dulled the pheromonal pull, allowing him to stay focused. He took the lead.

On the second floor, the observatory door was tightly shut but a soft, keening moan drifted through the cracked window, unmistakably intimate.

Ryusui grabbed the ladder and started climbing.

Kinro paused midway, hand on the rung, stiffening. “That’s definitely Gen.”

Ryusui climbed the first ladder, then reached the second. “We still need to make sure they’re okay,” he said over his shoulder.

Kinro visibly hesitated, looking away. “If they’re mid-act… we could be interrupting a mating process. If it’s already started, disrupting them could be dangerous.”

“I know,” Ryusui grit out as he hoisted himself up. “But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something went wrong and we could’ve stopped it—if either of them ends up regretting this.”

Kinro muttered under his breath as he started climbing, “This is partly my fault for listening to my younger brother…”

Ryusui shook his head. “No, we shouldn’t be playing the blame game.”

He placed a steady hand on the doorknob, then glanced underneath the doorframe to give Kinro a look. Bracing himself for whatever he might walk into, Ryusui slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the dim room—

Oh.

Senku and Gen were definitely in the middle of something.

Frozen, Ryusui processed the scene in silence. His brain momentarily stalled between logic and pure, visceral embarrassment.

“What is it? Do we need to intervene?” Kinro whispered sharply, inching closer when he noticed Ryusui’s pause.

When there was no answer, Kinro peeked inside himself—and went rigid.

Eyes wide. Jaw slack.

He was completely floored by the sight.

The two alphas watched as Senku snapped his head toward them.

In an instant, he lifted himself off Gen’s back, a low growl rumbling in his throat. One arm shot out, hand against the floor beside Gen’s head to shield his omega’s flushed, pleasure-drunk expression—instinctively protecting his dignity.

Senku’s pheromones slammed into them, thick and wild, flooding the air and making it hard to think. The scent radiated dominance, possessiveness—especially when his hand gripped Gen’s hip with firm, territorial intent.

He glared at them, crimson eyes burning. There was no mistaking the warning in his gaze. He was watching their every move, ready to strike if they so much as flinched wrong.

The growl that rolled from his chest wasn’t just a sound—it was a vibration, deep and primal, reverberating through the floor and into their bones.

“Leave,” Senku said—calm, but commanding.

Ryusui raised his hands slowly, palms up to show he meant no harm. Still, the unspoken question lingered in his eyes, and Senku, sharp as always, seemed to read it effortlessly.

“We’ll talk later,” Senku said, voice cool but eyes glowing with heat. “Close the door.”

Ryusui obeyed in silence and climbed back down. Kinro followed, his face flushed with embarrassment, one hand covering his eyes.

At the bottom, Ruri’s brows furrowed in concern. Ginro poked Kinro’s arm, curious but too nervous to say anything.

“Let’s go,” Ryusui finally said, turning back toward Ishigami Village. Ruri followed close behind.

“Are they…?” she trailed off gently.

Ryusui exhaled, gaze distant.

“Don’t worry. Senku was fully aware of what was happening. From the looks of it… they finally admitted their feelings for each other.” His voice softened slightly. “It was consensual. Gen wasn’t in distress. And Senku despite being in rut was calm. Guarded. Protective.”

He didn’t say more, but the weight in his tone was clear.

“I never knew Gen could make that face!” Kinro groaned into his hands. “I want to erase that image from my memory. Senku is going to kill me. Do you think he’ll actually blind me?”

Ginro laughed, clearly relieved they hadn’t been the ones to go in first. “Probably. But don’t worry, Kinro! You can count on me to tell you which way’s what and what direction you’re walking in.”

“Ha. That’d do me more harm than good. You’re unreliable with your own duties—how am I supposed to trust you to guide a blind man?” Kinro muttered, scrunching his face at his younger brother.

“We’re family,” Ginro said with a crooked grin, completely unfazed.

Ruri, unfazed by their squabbling, hummed cheerfully. “That’s good. I’m glad things didn’t escalate. I can’t wait to corner Gen later so he can tell me everything.”

“You know,” Ryusui added, glancing back toward the observatory, “it looked like Gen didn’t even notice we were there.”

“Do you think Senku will tell him?” Kinro asked, looking over at the blonde alpha.

Ryusui chuckled. “Most likely.”

“Poor Gen. He’s definitely going to be mortified once he finds out we saw…” Ruri trailed off, her voice dipping as a tiny blush crept up her cheeks. The thought of being in Gen’s shoes—if it were her and Chrome—made her shake her head quickly. “Let’s head back to the village, everyone!”

She walked ahead with a cheerful energy, though her ears were still a bit red.

“What’s up with her?” Ginro asked aloud, puzzled.

Kinro sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We should head back to our post, Ginro.”

“Aww, come on…” Ginro whined.

Kinro turned to Ryusui. “What about you? What’re you going to do now?”

Ryusui stretched and glanced once more toward the observatory. “I’ll stick around for a few days. Once those two are done, I’m dragging Senku out and demanding a full explanation. Right after I toss him in the river.”

Kinro smirked. “Fair.”

Chapter Text

“Hey Gen, Yuzuriha’s been looking—” Ukyo paused mid-sentence, blinking slowly at the sight before him. “..for you.”

There, crouched under the shade of a tree, was Gen, lazily chewing on a massive slice of watermelon. Juice dripped down his chin as he calmly stared up at Ukyo, raising an eyebrow as if to say, “Go on.”

Ukyo’s lips twitched, caught between a laugh and a smile. “Whatcha got there?”

“Watermelon,” Gen said matter-of-factly, swallowing before slurping up more juice. “It’s sho good. You should try it.”

“From the way you’re eating it, I have no doubt. It’s that sweet, huh?” Ukyo gestured to the slice in Gen’s hands.

Gen nodded enthusiastically. “Yup.”

“So, why are you hiding all the way out here?” Ukyo glanced around the peaceful shade, then back toward the fields where everyone else was working.

“I’m otally-tay not hiding to get out of manual labor…” Gen said with exaggerated innocence, licking his lips. “Just taking a relaxing watermelon break, like any innocent bystander.”

“Liar.” Ukyo put a hand on his hip, looking at him knowingly.

“You got me.” Gen snickered, sticking out his tongue before diving back into the juicy slice. “I couldn’t take it anymore—working under that blazing sun? I got sweaty and uncomfortable. Besides, I get tired easily. I’m just not cut out for that kind of thing… everyone knows it.”

Ukyo sighed, then sat down in the grass beside him. “So I guess being Senku’s mate doesn’t come with any special perks. I thought you’d be getting special treatment by now.”

Gen froze for a second, then lifted the watermelon slice to his mouth again, trying (and failing) to hide the smile creeping across his face. A faint blush bloomed on his cheeks. “I still can’t believe this is real. That I’m Senku-chan’s mate…”

“I knew it,” Ukyo laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I actually called it.”

He thought back to a couple of weeks ago, when their group had been preparing to depart for Ishigami Village. The signs were all there—he just hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.

Gen playfully smacked Ukyo’s arm. “Shush.”

Heat crept up Gen’s cheeks at the teasing. It had been four weeks since that fateful day—when he and Senku confessed, spent his heat together, and officially became mates. Gen could only remember a few clear moments; the rest was a hazy blur of passion, tenderness, and pleasure. Senku had been attentive, careful, and so loving—pouring every ounce of affection into his actions.

By the end of his cycle, Gen’s body ached all over, but it was a satisfying ache, one that left him feeling grounded. Despite how awkward it could have been, they both handled it the same way they handled everything else—dry humor, shared jokes, and an unspoken agreement that yes, the observatory needed a deep cleaning after everything they’d done… and where they’d done it.

Maybe they’d gone a little overboard—okay, Senku had gone overboard, and Gen just went along with every whim as usual. It was safe to say they’d sullied nearly every inch of the observatory—and Gen still wasn’t sure whether to be mortified or proud.

Gen’s favorite moment might have been the time he’d clung to that telescope—the same one the villagers helped gift Senku—while the alpha whispered constellations into his ear in that low, distracted tone of his as he took him from behind. With the hatch open, no less.

At the time, it hadn’t felt shameful—only surreal and perfect. But looking back? Gen flushed bright red just thinking about it, silently apologizing to anyone who might have heard them. He was so grateful Ukyo hadn’t been around for that.

Lost in thought, Gen didn’t realize he’d finished his watermelon until he lifted the rind and blinked down at it. “…Oh. I finished.”

Ukyo let out a hearty laugh. “Judging from the dazed look in your eyes, I definitely know what—or who—you were thinking about.”

Gen whipped his head toward the other omega, scandalized. “I hate how easily you read me. What the fuck.”

“You’re making it easy, you know,” Ukyo said with a chuckle. “It’s true what they say about newly bonded pairs.” A fond smile tugged at his lips as he thought back to when he and Ryusui first mated. “You get all clumsy, lovebrained, and dreamy—just like you were a minute ago, staring off into space. It affects both parties, by the way. Senku definitely had his share of it. Ryusui told me.”

Gen let out a fond sigh, already familiar with the topic. He’d read about it plenty during his spare time. “Ugh, it’s been four weeks and my body still aches. I’m sore in places I didn’t know could be sore. When I told Senku-chan not to hold back, I didn’t expect him to leave me shaking until I couldn’t feel my legs… I’m not complaining, but still…”

Ukyo tilted his head, curious. “Oh? Was it your first time?”

“Yes…” Gen admitted quietly, lowering the watermelon rind to his lap. He stretched out his legs, finally freeing himself from his crouched position, and leaned back against the tree with a soft exhale. “Was it the same for you, Ukyo-chan?”

“Hmm, well…” Ukyo thought back. He had been with partners before, though his first time wasn’t with the alpha he bonded with. “Yes and no. My first time was a little painful before the pleasure set in. I was sore for a few days, but it passed. Everyone’s different, though. When Ryusui and I mated, it was a whole other thing—he really made sure to focus on my comfort and pleasure first. After we bonded, our bodies took a while to adjust—about two weeks. I did feel achy for a bit.”

“You’re right,” Gen said with a soft smile. “I’m sure by the end of this week I’ll be back to my usual self.”

He turned to Ukyo, eyes sparkling. “Can you believe it’s been a whole year and a half since we started building the Perseus?”

Ukyo hummed in agreement, glancing toward the distant shipyard. “Everyone’s pitched in and worked hard. And according to our fearless leaders, we set sail next week.”

“September 9th or the 10th, huh… Any idea who’s going?” Gen asked curiously.

Ukyo shook his head, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Nope. Ryusui’s guarding that list of crew members like his life depends on it. He won’t even let Senku sneak a peek. Says he wants to announce it the day we set sail.”

“Classic Ryusui-chan,” Gen said, waving a hand in the air with a laugh. “Building up anticipation and keeping everyone at the edge of their seats.” Then his eyes lit up in realization. “Oh, that’s right—you mentioned Yuzuriha-chan was looking for me?”

At that, Ukyo hopped to his feet and grabbed Gen’s free hand, tugging him upward. “Yes! She said she needed help stitching clothes, but we both know that’s just a cover. She’s already gathered Ruri, Kohaku, Nikki, and Minami.”

For the past few weeks, Yuzuriha—along with Ruri and Kohaku in particular—had been hounding Gen for details about his relationship with Senku. They always tried to get him to spill something juicy. But Gen only gave the appropriate answers, unwilling to go into the naughty side of things… at least, not with them. Only Ukyo had been privy to those details—maybe because they were both male omegas, or maybe because Ukyo’s quiet wisdom made him easier to trust.

Ukyo led him through the sun-drenched fields, nodding in acknowledgment at the people who waved their greetings. “Lucky for you,” he added, “I think they mentioned wanting to cool off at the river. Yuzuriha’s waiting for us so we can all go together.”

“That sounds perfect. I can’t wait to drench myself in that cool water,” Gen said, returning a few smiles from the field workers. He glanced down at his hand, still holding the now-empty watermelon rind, and grimaced. His fingers were sticky and drying fast. “Ugh. What should I do with this?”

“Hm?” Ukyo followed his gaze, then looked around before spotting a familiar figure in the distance. “I’ve got an idea.”

Ukyo led them toward Yo and Magma, who were in the middle of some argument that paused as soon as they noticed the white-haired omega approaching.

“Hey,” Ukyo greeted.

“What’s up, Ukyo?” Yo gave a lazy grin.

“What do you two want?” Magma narrowed his eyes, still as wary of the archer omega as ever.

“Hey now, that’s no way to greet two of the wise generals~” Gen’s lips curled into his usual practiced, charming smile.

“Just ’cause you guys have cool titles doesn’t mean you get to show off,” Yo snorted. “Just wait till I get an even badass-er title myself!”

“Hmph. Tell Senku if he lets his guard down, I’ll snatch that chief title for myself,” Magma declared, arms crossed.

At that, Gen narrowed his eyes sharply at Magma, his tongue ready to spin a glittering web of pretty lies. “Still aiming for the chief title? How boring~ I expected someone like you would aim higher…”

Ukyo side-eyed him, already suspicious of whatever scheme their resident mentalist was cooking up.

“Something like… Combat King,” Gen said, with dramatic flair. “Or perhaps… Sharpshooter King?”

That caught both alphas’ attention.

“Combat?” Magma echoed.

“Sharpshooter?” Yo perked up.

“Yes! Don’t you think those titles sound eally-ray interesting?” Gen enthused, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Ukyo, sensing this was about to spiral, smoothly stepped in. He plucked the watermelon rind from Gen’s hand and casually tossed it to Yo, who caught it on instinct.

“Before you get too excited,” Ukyo said, “use this as compost. I’m surprised there isn’t a Compost King yet.”

“We do need a Compost King…” Gen said thoughtfully, as though just now realizing it.

“Well, we’ve gotta get going~ Bye now!” Gen waved, and Ukyo quickly steered him away.

They were just out of earshot when Magma shouted something about being the king of all three.

Ukyo lets out a sigh. “Those two will be hyped up until next week now. Knowing them, they won’t stop until they’re officially crowned something.”

“We all know you’re our sharpshooter king. Your archery skills are eriously-say no joke,” Gen praised with a grin.

Ukyo chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure there’s someone else out there with better archery skills than me.”

“So humble~” Gen hummed. “And our combat king—once we find a way to petrify and revive Tsukasa-chan all in one go—will no doubt be our warrior Tsukasa-chan.”

“GEN!” Taiju’s loud voice boomed in the distance.

The two omegas turned their heads and spotted the ever-enthusiastic alpha approaching, hand-in-hand with his mate, Yuzuriha. She held a basket in her free hand, with a large folded cloth neatly placed on top. It didn’t take long before the pair reached them.

“Taiju-chan! Yuzuriha-chan!” Gen called out with equal enthusiasm.

As soon as they were close enough, Taiju wasted no time and lunged in for a hug. Gen, having been through this before, shot out a hand just in time to brace himself as the alpha wrapped him up tightly. He pressed his hand against Taiju’s chest, trying to create some space.

Gen was well aware of Taiju’s affectionate nature—and just how crushing those hugs could be. He’d fallen victim more than once, despite Senku’s many warnings and his uncanny ability to dodge the bear hugs entirely.

“GEN!” Taiju cried again, arms squeezing around the omega shoulders. Gen awkwardly patted the alpha’s head in return.

“Taiju-chan… I’m happy to see you too,” Gen said with a strained smile, shooting a look over Taiju’s shoulder. Yuzuriha mouthed a silent “Sorry!” to which Gen shook his head, silently telling her it was fine.

“I still can’t believe that Senku…” Taiju choked up, tears welling in his eyes. ”—Senku!”

“Taiju…” Yuzuriha looked at her mate with concern, reaching out.

“I can’t believe Senku has a mate! And I’m so happy it’s you!” Taiju finally pulled back, hands gripping Gen’s shoulders. “We always thought he’d end up alone. Yuzuriha and I swore we’d keep him company if that ever happened, you know? So he wouldn’t feel lonely, but—”

“We’re happy that there’s someone in this world who loves Senku in ways that can’t be put into words.” Yuzuriha said gently, placing a comforting hand on Taiju’s shoulder. “We both love him in a familial way, of course. He’s like our—”

“He’s like the brother I never had,” Taiju finished, raising his arm to wipe away his tears. “We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. We’ve always had each other’s backs.”

Gen’s eyes widened slightly as he listened, heart touched by their sincerity.

“Knowing you looked after him during that year we were apart—and that you’ve continued to since—really puts our hearts at ease,” Yuzuriha added, lowering her hand and gripping the basket with both hands now.

“Senku can be kinda oblivious sometimes, so don’t take it personally,” Taiju said with a chuckle. “Not that you need us to tell you that. But hey—if you ever need someone to knock some sense into him, I’m your guy!” He grinned brightly.

“You’re our family now too, Gen,” Yuzuriha said with a firm nod.

Gen looked at them, a thousand thoughts flickering behind his eyes. Then he softened, his voice low with emotion. “Thank you… this means a lot to me. You two are the most important people in his life, so knowing you both accept me—it fills me with joy.”

“You’re important too now, Gen!” Taiju beamed as the waterworks returned. “If you ever need help with anything—lifting boulders, or if someone’s bullying you—I’m here!”

Yuzuriha’s eyes began to glisten as well. “And if you ever need clothes or something custom made, I can do that too.”

“Guys…” Gen murmured, his lip trembling as his eyes welled up.

Ukyo observed silently, watching the three of them become an emotional mess.

Are they all crying now? he thought, mildly amused as he noticed Gen blinking back tears.

“That was a touching moment,” Ukyo remarked, arms loosely crossed.

Gen turned to look at him with a fond smile. “Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan are emotionally in tune with their feelings. It can’t be helped when they lure you into it.”

Yuzuriha chuckled, and Taiju sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Ukyo stared at Gen a moment longer. There was something subtly different about him. Normally, Gen kept his emotions tightly controlled. Ukyo knew Gen was a soft-hearted person deep down, but this—this felt deeper. Raw.

I guess every newly bonded pair is different, Ukyo thought. It was Gen’s first time—and combined with mating—it might take a little longer for the bond to stabilize between him and Senku. Maybe he’s right. He’ll probably feel like himself again by the end of the week.

“We should probably meet up with the others before they come looking for us,” Ukyo said, turning slightly toward the path.

“Wait,” Gen said quickly, looking down at himself. “I don’t have spare clothes.”

“I have that covered,” Yuzuriha said with a grin, lifting the basket slightly in her hands.

“Ah—before you go,” Taiju added, reaching toward the nearby table, “you disappeared for a while, which had me a little worried. But I saved you a slice of watermelon—I wasn’t sure if you got one or not. Mirai and Suika were kind enough to deliver these to us.”

He gestured to the table beside them, where juicy slices of watermelon glistened under the warm sun.

Gen’s tongue instinctively darted out to wet his lips. “Orry-say, I may have snuck off after grabbing one… but you wouldn’t mind if I grabbed another, would you?”

“Not at all!” Taiju replied brightly. “Everyone’s been working so hard under this heat, a proper break is more than deserved! Yuzuriha told me you guys are heading to the river—make sure you all have fun!”

A brief pang of guilt pricked at Gen’s chest especially with how earnestly Taiju cared but the sweet promise of the watermelon drowned it out easily enough.

“Thanks~” he said, already reaching for a slice, his voice lilting with that familiar sing-song charm.

Gen chewed thoughtfully as he followed the two omegas leading the way, giving a quick wave of farewell to Taiju before disappearing into the forest’s shade. The trees offered a cool respite from the sun, and idle chatter passed between them as they walked. Before long, the distant rush of water reached their ears, growing louder until the trees parted—revealing the glimmering river.

The scene awaiting them was idyllic: Ruri and Kohaku splashing each other in the shallows, Minami stretched out on a flat rock with her sunglasses on, and Nikki lazily floating on her back, arms spread wide like a sunbathing cat.

“Hey Gen!” Chrome called from the far side of the river, partially soaked and crouched over a set of collected stones. He looked up with a bright grin. “I’m gathering stuff for the mobile lab!”

Gen raised a brow and turned to Ukyo. The archer merely shrugged.

“Chrome’s harmless,” Ukyo offered. “He overheard we were heading here and tagged along. Something about multitasking—fun and fieldwork.”

“Hey everyone!” Yuzuriha called, stepping forward to claim a patch of space on the shore. She unfurled the large cloth she’d brought and started arranging things with practiced ease. “We brought Gen!”

Gen, in turn, felt several eyes swivel toward him.

“Ah, the man of the hour,” Minami purred, lifting her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose to get a better look at him.

“Gen! You’re finally here!” Kohaku called out, sending a wave his way with dripping fingers.

“You’re not escaping this time, Gen,” Ruri added, her smile far too composed to be innocent.

“Prepare to be grilled for the next hour,” Nikki warned from her floating position, not even opening her eyes.

Gen paused in his step, dramatically clutching his watermelon slice to his chest like a lifeline. “Oh no, the tribunal has assembled.”

Ukyo snorted. “Told you they’d be ready for you.”

Yuzuriha handed them each a set of swimwear she’d sewn herself and gestured toward a makeshift changing booth set up with woven panels and fabric. “You can get changed over there,” she said cheerfully.

Gen and Ukyo glanced at each other, silently debating who should go first. After a moment, Gen subtly raised his half-finished watermelon slice as a peace offering.

Ukyo huffed a quiet laugh. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, relenting as he stepped toward the booth to change.

Left alone, Gen let out a slow exhale through his nose and stared out at the river. He could already feel it—the impending onslaught of questions.
They were waiting for him. Again.

He’d deflect, of course. Dodge and redirect until they got tired or distracted. And then he could finally cool off in the water and pretend his life wasn’t now being monitored by a curious crowd of friends with too much affection and too little shame.

Gen slicked his hair back with water gathered in his hands and sighed as the girls finally gave up grilling him—none of them able to pry a single intimate detail about his love life with Senku. He let out a yawn.

It’d be nice to take a nap after this, Gen mused.

He settled in the shallow part of the river where the water reached up to his chest. The rich purple of his swim shorts caught his eye for a brief moment. He was grateful for Yuzuriha’s crafting skills. He’d opted to wear his usual high-collar shirt in the water—partly for sun protection, but mostly to keep their eyes away from the fresh mating bite on his neck. Though the mark had already begun scabbing over, the surrounding bruises were still obvious.

Another yawn slipped out, drawing Ukyo’s attention—and Chrome’s, who had just returned from his materials scavenging.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Chrome asked, tilting his head.

“Sort of… Ever since we got back from the village, the bedding hasn’t felt the same. It gets a little uncomfortable sometimes,” Gen admitted, stretching his arms out lazily. “The hut just doesn’t feel like home, y’know?”

“Have you mentioned it to Senku?” Ukyo asked, squinting at him.

Gen shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. A few measly pillows and rough bedding won’t stop me. Compared to the first night I was revived, this is still a luxury.”

“I think I could sleep practically anywhere,” Chrome said, tapping his chin. “Once my head hits the pillow? I’m out. But the beds on the Perseus? Baaad. I can’t wait to crash there for the first time!”

“Beds? Like, actual beds?” Ukyo turned to him, curious. “With frames and mattresses?”

“I think so? I’ve never seen anything like them, but they look awesome!” Chrome grinned wide.

Ukyo murmured under his breath, “I need to see that for myself…”

Gen smiled, a tired but content curl of his lips.

“Since we’re on that topic,” Chrome said, “ever since you guys came back, Senku’s been pumped. He’s been working non-stop. He’s definitely excited about something—it’s hard to get that guy to take a break. Maybe you can charm him into relaxing or something, Gen. Now that you two are officially together.”

Chrome wasn’t wrong.

When they returned, Senku had laughed—that laugh, the scheming one—and told Gen there were still countless things to be done. Getting him to sleep still required some coaxing, though Gen had managed to get him to eat lunch with him now and then. Convincing Senku to take an actual break was quickly climbing to the top of his list of concerns.

When Gen thought of relaxing, many things came to mind. But the one that lingered was a simple day together—laying out a blanket under a large tree, shaded from the sun. Maybe picking flowers, weaving flower crowns. Having Senku lay his head in Gen’s lap while they talked about nothing in particular. Letting the peaceful atmosphere lull them into an afternoon nap.

“What’s the science team’s plan for tomorrow around noon?” Gen asked, turning to Chrome with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Chrome made a thoughtful face. “Let’s see… We already triple-checked the plumbing system on the ship, added furniture, placed the sails, did test runs with the mobile lab, and touched up the greenhouse… I think tomorrow’s mostly just rearranging a few things.”

Ukyo and Chrome shared a look, both clearly uncertain but already suspicious of whatever their mentalist was about to say. That trademark glint in Gen’s eyes was never a good sign for their nerves—though, admittedly, it was always entertaining.

Before either of them could speak, Gen’s lips curled into a sly, practiced smile. “In that case… I have an idea.”

Ukyo leaned back on his arms, hands flat against the shallow riverbed. His fingers curled around the smooth rocks beneath him as he exhaled through his nose. “Of course you do.”

Chrome leaned in, getting on his knees, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Wait—is it science-related? Or… Gen-related?”

“Eh… I suppose you could say a mix of both,” Gen replied, clearly enjoying their reactions. They had been soaking in the water for quite some time, and Gen figured it was a good moment to start drying off. He flicked a droplet from his fingers and stood, water cascading down the fabric of his high-collared shirt. “Let’s just say… if Senku-chan won’t take a break, I’ll give him no choice but to indulge in one.”

Ukyo raised an eyebrow, mildly amused. “This isn’t going to end with us dragging him out of the lab while he clings to the table, right?”

“Perish the thought!” Gen declared with dramatic flair. “No dragging necessary. I’ll lure him out myself.”

Chrome stood up as well, looking between them with hesitant amusement. “Well, I did technically bring it up. A break sounds good for everyone, so I’m in.”

“Excellent! This is exactly why you’re my third avorite-fay general,” Gen chirped at the brown-haired beta.

Chrome’s eyes lit up. “Really? Awesome—wait, what? I’m your third favorite? Who are the other two?!”

“Ukyo-chan, then Senku-chan,” Gen replied with a smile. “I’m biased when it comes to Senku-chan, but depending on my mood, the rankings change. Ukyo-chan stays number one, though.”

Ukyo gave a closed-eyed smile toward Chrome, who snapped his head his way with a betrayed look.

“This shouldn’t hurt, but it kinda does,” Chrome muttered. “Maybe because I’ve spent more time with Gen than you have. But just a reminder—a year and a half ago, he tried to kill us. He shot an arrow at you!” Chrome jabbed a finger at Ukyo, then at Gen.

“In my defense, I wasn’t trying to kill anyone. We were just on opposite sides of the war until we finally made contact,” Ukyo said coolly.

“I’m going to climb the ranks, just you wait,” Chrome warned, though Ukyo looked entirely unbothered.

Gen chuckled. “I sometimes forget that behind that baby face, you can be quite scary, Ukyo-chan…” He extended a hand toward the white-haired omega.

Ukyo took it, letting Gen help him up with ease.

Ukyo sighed again, already bracing himself for whatever chaos Gen was about to stir. “I can get scary when the situation calls for it. But for now, I think I’m actually looking forward to whatever you’re plotting tomorrow. Times like this make me miss popcorn…”

“Popcorn? What’s that?” Chrome asked, tilting his head.

“A type of snack made from corn. And corn’s a delicacy—you can make plenty of things with it, like corn on the cob!” Gen explained with a dramatic flair, but his tone turned wistful by the end. He could already taste it in his memory. “Ahh… Now I want corn on the cob… Mexican style…”

“The what style?”

“I’ve tried it before. It was delicious,” Ukyo added with a small smile. “Who knew mayo, cheese, chili, and corn would go so well together?”

“Now I wanna try this corn…” Chrome pouted.

Gen shook himself out of his culinary daydream and clasped his hands together, smiling sweetly—too sweetly, Ukyo noted. The mentalist was already scheming.

He glanced toward Yuzuriha, who was still seated on the cloth she’d laid out earlier, chatting with Ruri and Nikki, a picture of relaxed ease.

Just one little favor from Yuzuriha-chan, and this plan will be perfect, Gen thought, his eyes sparkling with intent.

________

Senku rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. Yesterday, when the mentalist returned from the river with the others, Senku had an inkling suspicion that Gen was up to something. Gen had originally been assigned to help in the fields, but somewhere along the line, he’d managed to sneak away—and somehow ended up lounging by the river instead.

What surprised Senku more was that Chrome had tagged along. And now Chrome, Ukyo, and Gen were acting suspiciously chummy.

The rest of the evening had been odd. Gen kept staring at him with this overly sweet, expectant smile. When Senku asked what was going on, Gen would just wave it off with a cryptic “You’ll see.”

Senku hated not knowing. So whatever Gen was up to, he was determined to get to the bottom of it today.

Ever since they mated a few weeks ago, it had become official—publicly and unmistakably. One might think Senku would have been put off by public displays of affection, and perhaps his past self would have been. But now? Now he found something darkly satisfying in seeing those hopeful alphas wilt the moment they caught scent of Gen—his omega—fully claimed.

He could scent Gen openly now, mark him without a single sideways glance, and no one batted an eye.

Not that their dynamic changed drastically. They still interacted in much the same way, except now it was laced with casual touches and private moments. Being a newly bonded pair meant their bodies were still adjusting, their scents slowly intertwining as their bond settled.

Senku noticed it immediately—how Gen’s scent had changed. It was sweeter now, rich and syrupy, layered with his own scent threaded through. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t send his brain into overdrive.

He smelled so good—especially with Senku’s scent mingled in.

His nights now always ended with him curled up beside Gen, nose buried against the omega’s scent gland. The familiar scent, now tinged with his own, lulled Senku into the deepest sleep he’d had in years.

Senku had sworn to himself that he’d be the best mate Gen could ask for. But ever since they’d returned to Roppongi Hills, he’d been swept up in a whirlwind of inspiration. Between preparing for the upcoming voyage and developing new tech, free time was a rarity. Still, he made it a priority to personally arrange the cabin they would be sharing on the ship.

It wasn’t the captain’s quarters—that was already claimed by Ryusui—not that Senku cared. He had designed the entire ship himself, after all. What mattered was comfort. Their cabin had been tailored with Gen in mind: soft bedding, adjustable lighting, even a clever cooling system for hot nights.

There were six personalized cabins total, reserved for bonded pairs. Two additional rooms had been designed to accommodate anyone going through a heat or rut cycle in isolation. The rest of the crew would bunk in divided quarters based on their secondary gender—alphas, betas, and omegas.

Which brought Senku back to his current problem.

He glared at Ryusui from across the lab, watching the smug blonde alpha cross his arms with that infuriating smile.

Senku slammed his palm against the table. “Come on, not even a little peek? I need to know who’s going so I can assign sleeping quarters. We’ll lose time if it’s not planned in advance.”

“Ha! You’re going to have to wait like everyone else, Senku.” Ryusui grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Nothing you say is going to make me budge. I’m guarding this list with my life.”

“I’m going to shred that piece of paper and replace it with my own the moment you look away,” Senku threatened.

Ryusui’s eyes widened slightly with amusement. “You should know—I already made copies and hid them.”

Senku narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got one under your hat, another in your boot, one tucked in the inner pocket of your trench coat… and you ten billion percent gave one to Francois.”

“Heh… you’re good,” Ryusui grinned. “I expect nothing less from our science leader. But as it stands, I’m the captain of the ship. The Perseus is mine, so I decide who boards.”

“Well, Goldilocks, I’m the one who designed it and started this whole damn project! So stop being stingy and hand over the goddamn list!” Senku shot back.

“You guys are both acting immature—” Chrome groaned, dropping his head into his arms as the two alphas squared off.

“Stay out of it, Chrome!” Senku snapped, throwing a hand in his direction.

“There’s nothing immature about two men trying to get their point across,” Ryusui chuckled. “Senku’s crew list privileges have been revoked. Naturally, it falls to me—like it should have in the first place. He was too preoccupied to do it anyway.”

Chrome threw his hands up in surrender. “I’m out.”

He left the lab, leaving the two to continue bickering.

“‘Too preoccupied’? I was in my rut! Of course I was busy!” Senku ran a hand down his face in frustration. “I finished the list after it ended—and then you thought it was a good idea to drag me to the middle of nowhere and toss me into a river! What the hell was even that?!”

“I needed an explanation about what went down between you and Gen. I mean, from an outside perspective, surely you know what it looked like. Besides, I told you we were going to talk,” Ryusui said, placing a hand on his hip.

“Yeah—right after you threw me into that cold-ass river,” Senku sighed, exasperated.

“To cool you off, of course,” Ryusui nodded to himself.

“I told you that day we’d talk later. I wasn’t trying to dodge giving you an explanation,” Senku gritted his teeth. “Did I leave anything out?”

Ryusui brought a hand to his chin, contemplating. “Well…”

“Ryusui,” Senku warned, his voice low.

“Besides enjoying the time of your life—no,” Ryusui replied with a smug chuckle.

Senku glared at the blonde alpha, clearly unimpressed. “If you think I forgot that you and Kinro barged in during that time—which I haven’t—I’ve already come up with… let’s just say, plenty of ways to get revenge.”

The hair on the back of Ryusui’s neck stood up at the implication. Hesitantly, he asked, “Like what?”

“I’m not going to tell you. But just knowing I could strike at any time, on any day, will eat away at you. Eventually, you’ll become so paranoid, wondering what I’ll do, you won’t even be able to sleep,” Senku grinned, lips curling into something wicked before letting out a low, amused laugh. “It’s already working on Kinro. He just doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve been gradually messing up the prescription of his glasses. Every time he breaks them during training or work, I replace the lenses—just a little fuzzier than before. Bit by bit, his vision will get blurrier. He’ll start questioning himself. ‘Did my fuzzy sickness return?’ ‘My glasses aren’t working!’ ‘Am I going blind?’ Hehe…”

Senku holds grudges, Ryusui noted grimly to himself.

“…Why are you telling me this?” Ryusui asked, lips pursed.

Senku rounded the table and slapped a firm hand down on Ryusui’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. His smile was unnerving, stretched thin across his face—more a warning than a greeting. Behind those crimson eyes simmered a quiet, dangerous rage.

“They won’t believe you,” he said, voice low. “And before you ask me ‘why,’ it’s because you two saw something that should’ve never crossed your path. You saw Gen in that state.”

Huh. What do you know. Senku’s possessive.
A bead of sweat rolled down Ryusui’s cheek.

“Senku, I’m mated. I only have eyes for Ukyo. Besides, I didn’t even see anything—my eyes were locked on the wall behind your head,” Ryusui said, sighing. “You’re being unreasonable—”

“What if I, or some random alpha, walked in while you and Ukyo were in the middle of—” Senku deadpanned.

“I’ll kill them.” Ryusui’s nostrils flared.

“My point exactly,” Senku said, crossing his arms with finality.

Ryusui exhaled, shaking off the spike of anger.

Okay, Ryusui thought. He has a point.

The mere idea of anyone seeing Ukyo in such a vulnerable, intimate state would send him into a frenzy.

“Look… I’m sorry,” Ryusui said, his tone quieter now. “I already told you why I reacted the way I did. I’m glad things worked out—and that you two finally got together. No more watching you both pine after each other like idiots.” He gave a small huff of a laugh before his expression sobered again. “But Senku… mating is serious. Becoming bonded pairs should be talked through—thoroughly—not decided in the middle of—”

He removed his captain’s hat and held it carefully against his chest, making sure the folded crew list hidden inside didn’t fall out. His other hand ran through his tousled blond hair as he met Senku’s gaze, fully serious now.

The banter faded away. What remained was quiet understanding between two alphas navigating something deeply personal.

Senku stood straighter and faced Ryusui head-on.

“I know,” he said, cutting in softly but firmly. “From the moment I opened that door to the moment I fell asleep, I was fully aware of what I was doing.”

His voice dropped a little, not out of shame but calm conviction.

“My alpha instincts were screaming, yeah—but I never lost myself. Not yet. Not until I was sure that it was what Gen wanted. I asked him, more than once. I told him what I wanted, and he told me what he wanted. I was ready to leave—would’ve left—if he told me to. But he didn’t. He asked me to stay.”

Senku took a slow breath.

“If, at any moment, he changed his mind, I would’ve respected that and walked away. I didn’t give in to my rut until after our first time—after he told me again that it was okay. Only then did I let go and let my instincts take over.”

“I have no doubt—you handled it better than most alphas ever could,” Ryusui said, shaking his head.

Not all alphas were strong, rational, or logical. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve pounced the second they caught the scent of an omega in heat—no questions asked. But Senku wasn’t like that. Ryusui respected him for it.

Senku wasn’t your average alpha. He was calm, focused, and above all, rational. He rarely gave in to his instincts—and when he did, it was never thoughtless. If Ryusui hadn’t known better when they first met, he would’ve assumed Senku was a beta. That changed the day he visited the shipping area and met Gen… who, unbeknownst to himself, had been subtly scented by Senku.

That was when Ryusui finally confirmed it—Senku was an alpha. Just a very rare kind: one whose instincts only seemed to surface around one person.

Still, for someone as brilliant as Senku, he didn’t seem to grasp the full gravity of the situation yet.

In five days, they’d be departing from the mainland for the so-called Treasure Island. And as captain of the Perseus, it was Ryusui’s duty to ensure everyone’s safety—including their emotional and biological well-being.

“You told Gen you were going through your rut cycle at the time, right?” Ryusui asked, voice calm but firm.

“I did. He was completely fine with it,” Senku confirmed. He wouldn’t deny it had distracted him, but in the end, he’d been honest with Gen—and Gen had made his choice.

Ryusui adjusted his captain’s hat on his head and carefully made sure the folded crew list hidden inside didn’t fall. His brown eyes met Senku’s unwavering crimson gaze.

“I’m sure you know,” Ryusui said slowly, “that when an alpha’s rut cycle and an omega’s heat cycle—specifically a male omega’s heat—sync up… you’re aware of the implications, right?”

Senku was fully aware.

He was well-versed in biology—including secondary biology. He understood the differences between female and male omegas down to the cellular level. Female omegas had shorter heat cycles but remained fertile outside of them. Male omegas, however, experienced a sharp spike in fertility only during their heat. Outside of that window, they couldn’t conceive.

It was the same principle with alphas, though with gendered nuance. Male alphas remained fertile year-round. Female alphas, in contrast, were only fertile during their rut. For a male alpha and male omega pairing, successful conception required their cycles to be in sync. If only one was in heat or rut, the chances of pregnancy were nonexistent—unless the other’s cycle was triggered by close physical or emotional interaction.

Biologically, alphas typically went into rut twice a year, while omegas had three heat cycles annually. Before a pair bonded, those cycles remained on their natural rhythm. But after bonding, something changed. Their bodies would begin to sync—once a year at minimum, sometimes twice, depending on compatibility.

Which made what happened between him and Gen… rare.

Their cycles synced before they were even bonded. That alone was an anomaly.

Then again, it wasn’t like they were strangers. They’d known each other the longest. They spent nearly every day together. And Senku’s instincts—those dormant, tightly controlled alpha urges—only ever reacted around Gen. He’d never responded to another omega, not even during his suppressor lapses. Only Gen made his control fray.

Whatever he felt for Gen… it defied data. It wasn’t measurable. It wasn’t logical. And that terrified him.

By every rational metric, their compatibility was off the charts.

The only other explanation?

Fated pairs.

Senku scoffed to himself at the thought.

That was just a myth… right?

“Yes, I know,” Senku said, tone even and logical. “But the chances of a pregnancy occurring the first time a pair spends their synced cycle together is one in a billion. It didn’t happen with you and Ukyo. It didn’t happen with Taiju and Yuzuriha either.”

He crossed his arms. “Taiju and Yuzuriha are a different case entirely—male alpha and female omega. Their chances of conception are significantly higher than ours.”

Ryusui opened his mouth to argue—then paused. Closed it.

He hated to admit it, but Senku was right.

He and Ukyo had synced once since bonding. They’d spent the cycle together, but only after talking things through—what they wanted, what might happen, the possibility of bringing a child into the world. They’d agreed to let nature take its course.

When nothing happened in the weeks that followed, they were both… surprised. Maybe even a little disappointed.

But they’d also known, deep down, that the timing wasn’t quite right. Not yet.

“They’ve spent their cycles together—and outside of them,” Senku continued. “They talked to me about it. Asked if I could make contraceptive pills, since they didn’t feel ready to be parents yet. Not with the world still reverting to a Stone Age society.”

He paused for a beat.

“They weren’t the only ones. But I managed to make a small batch.”

Senku’s gaze shifted slightly, eyes distant with thought.

“Right now, there are about a hundred modern people who’ve been revived. Out of those hundred, there are twelve bonded pairs—including Gen and me. And of those twelve… eight have already started families.”

He looked back at Ryusui.

“Three are alpha and omega pairings. The rest—five—are a mix of betas, alphas, and omegas.”

“You’re saying the chances are slim, but the possibility is still there,” Ryusui pointed out, exhaling. “Now that you two are together, I think it’d be good if you talked about it. Just because it didn’t happen this time doesn’t mean it won’t next time.”

“I know, I know. Who do you think we are?” Senku muttered, scratching his ear with his pinky. “Gen and I will talk about it before either of our cycles come back.”

“So,” Ryusui grinned, lips curling. “How’s the honeymoon phase? Noticed anything different about Gen?”

Senku blew on his pinky, eyes flicking away. “If you’re talking about how our scents changed after bonding… then yes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “God, he smells amazing.”

Ryusui threw his head back with a laugh. “That, my friend, is exactly what I meant by the honeymoon phase. After Ukyo and I bonded, I couldn’t get enough of how well our scents merged—how right it felt. I’m sure you remember how I followed him around—”

“I’m well aware…” Senku grumbled, suddenly finding the papers on the table very interesting.

“It’s perfectly normal for newly bonded pairs to go through it,” Ryusui continued cheerfully. “I counted the number of times you got distracted—no more than the fingers on one hand, by the way. And when we got back, you were way more motivated. Like you had a new sense of purpose.”

He rounded the table to face Senku directly, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I have a hunch it has something to do with you and Gen,” he said slyly. “You definitely personalized your cabin around him.”

Senku clicked his tongue. “If you already knew that, why are you making it such a big deal?”

“Please, you’re excited. You even had a bounce in your step,” Ryusui grinned. “You snickered every time someone asked what you were doing around the ship. So—are you gonna let me see how you decked out your cabin room?”

“No way,” Senku rejected flatly.

“Why not?” Ryusui asked, feigning innocence.

“The rooms look the same,” Senku muttered, eyes scanning a paper listing what would go in the greenhouse. “Besides, it’s not as impressive as the captain’s quarters. You went above and beyond, as always.”

“Is there any reason I saw you dragging a full-length body mirror into your room the other day?” Ryusui leaned forward, lowering himself to peek at Senku’s expression, but the scientist kept his gaze stubbornly glued to the page.

Senku stilled—barely a second—but didn’t let it show. “Why should there be a reason? Mirrors are useful. I’m sure the mentalist will appreciate it.”

Ryusui hummed and collapsed onto a nearby stool. “That’s right. He was a celebrity before petrification… Did he tell you he missed having a mirror?”

“…Something like that.” A small huff escaped Senku, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Gen had never said anything about missing a mirror—if anything, Senku knew Gen didn’t particularly care about vanity. But he would appreciate it, eventually. Not that Senku intended for it to be used in the usual way, anyway.

Ryusui didn’t need to know that detail.

“You are whipped,” Ryusui teased, pointing an accusing finger. “If it weren’t for the Perseus being almost complete, I know you’d be stuck to his side like glue.”

Senku scowled, reminded of how little they actually saw each other during the day. A few lunches together here and there, the occasional visit to the lab—though Kaseki usually dragged Gen off for crafting projects. They always ended up on opposite sides of the dining hall, pulled into different conversations. Only at night did Senku finally get to wrap his arms around his omega without interruption.

“I know,” he muttered, reaching for a pencil. He erased the number beside the bags of wheat count and scribbled in a new one. “I can’t wait until we finish.”

“I’m baaaack!” Chrome announced dramatically, pushing past the curtain. “You guys better not be at each other’s throats—I brought reinforcements!”

Both alphas turned toward the door just as Chrome stepped in, looking between them warily. Behind him, Ukyo entered with his usual calm stride, and Gen followed with a curious expression.

“I thought you said they were fighting,” Ukyo commented, taking in the scene—Ryusui on one side of the table, Senku on the other, both very much alive and not brawling.

“Chrome-chan said you were being ean-may, Senku-chan,” Gen said, tilting his head in mock concern. Senku’s eye twitched—because of course he found that look cute.

“I wasn’t being ‘ean-may,’” Senku muttered, shooting a glare at Chrome. “I was just trying to prove a point.”

And then it hit him. The list.

Senku whipped his head back toward Ryusui. “Give me the damn list.”

Ryusui’s eyes lit with the fire of open defiance. “Over my dead body.”

“It’d be a shame,” Senku began, voice low and ominous, “if you suddenly came down with a really bad case of diarrhea… right on the day of the announcement.”

Ryusui visibly shuddered, narrowing his eyes at the scientist. “You wouldn’t…”

Senku simply grinned, offering no further comment.

“H-Ha! You’re just incriminating yourself if something did happen. I have witnesses, you know. All fingers would point straight at you!” Ryusui chuckled, but it came out nervous and tight.

“What? I only said it’d be a shame,” Senku replied, feigning innocence. “I never said I’d do anything. We’re in the Stone Age—anything could happen.”

Gen, arms crossed, looked on with open amusement. “This is better than half the shows I did before the petrification.”

Ukyo shot Chrome a sidelong glance, unimpressed. “Something tells me they forgot what they were arguing about before we even walked in.”

“Wha—but I—ugh!” Chrome threw his hands in the air. “You see how immature they’re being, right?! Like two kids fighting over who gets to be king of the playground!”

“Based on their demeanor when we walked in,” Gen said, tilting his head thoughtfully, “I’d say they were relaxed. Most likely chatting about a different topic before we showed up.”

“They’re just being idiots,” Ukyo added dryly, arms still crossed.

Before either omega could take another step into the lab, Chrome dramatically threw himself in front of them like a bodyguard. With an exaggerated sigh, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the two alphas. “Are these really the guys you two are into? Seriously? You could do so much better.”

“Hey!” Ryusui barked.

“You take that back, Chrome!” Senku shot instantly.

“What do you mean by that, Chrome?!” Ryusui snapped, his glare sharp as a spear thrown across the lab.

“Way to go, Chrome,” Ukyo said with a stifled laugh, raising a hand to his mouth. “Now it’s two against one. Looks like they’re teaming up to take you down.”

Chrome’s face twisted in horror. He glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with two very displeased alphas—then whipped his head back around with a strangled, “What the fuck?”

Gen, merciful as ever, took pity on him. He reached over and patted Chrome’s head. “I’ll help you out, in return for earlier.”

“Gen…” Chrome croaked, eyes glistening with tears—not of emotion, but raw fear—as the pressure of Senku’s glare intensified.

“Now, now~” Gen said brightly, still ruffling Chrome’s hair, “Chrome-chan only said that to redirect your attention! He completely derailed your argument—successfully, I might add. Ten billion points for you, Chrome-chan~!”

Then, like a spell lifted, Gen stepped past him and made his way to Senku. The alpha’s irritation visibly melted away the moment Gen stopped in front of him, close enough that their merged scent reached his nose in full force. Sweet, grounding, and undeniably his.

Gen looked up at him, eyes bright with amusement and something tender beneath. Senku breathed it in like oxygen. Yeah, Gen was definitely happy to see him—possibly even excited.

“I meant it one hundred percent, though…” Chrome muttered under his breath.

Immediately, the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Chrome froze.

Ukyo, ever calm, offered one of his infamous closed-eye smiles. The kind that promised pain.

“Half of those points are officially deducted,” Ukyo said smoothly.

Chrome let out a tiny eep and stood up ramrod straight. Old memories of being chased through the tall grass came flooding back.

“Senku-chan, Chrome-chan had impeccable timing when he came looking for us. I was actually on my way to find you,” Gen said with a smile. “I thought we could eat lunch together today!”

Senku felt a flicker of relief at Gen’s words—and maybe a bit of warmth at the thought of spending time with him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure, I guess it is about that time.” His stomach rumbled, reminding him just how hungry he was. “Do you have a place in mind, mentalist?”

As much as he enjoyed being in the lab, a break away from it would probably do him some good.

“Actually, I do! Just follow me~” Gen chirped cheerfully, taking Senku’s hand in his and leading him toward the entrance. He waved over his shoulder. “Bye-bye!”

Senku cast a glance at Chrome, who looked utterly confused by the sudden shift in atmosphere. The beta turned toward Ukyo—only to realize the omega had vanished.

“Hey, Ukyo—what the hell?!” Chrome spun around, only to find Ukyo already standing beside Ryusui. The two had slipped into a hushed conversation, voices too low for anyone else to hear.

Senku and Gen sidestepped around Chrome, who was still frozen in the doorway.

Chrome exhaled through his nose with a hum. He placed his hands on his hips, tilted his head back slightly, then brought it forward again with a quiet murmur. “Now what?”

Senku had expected to be led somewhere quiet, maybe to a spot shaded by trees. He was half right—but he certainly hadn’t anticipated a full picnic setup beneath a large tree casting its shade generously across the grass. The open field surrounding them was vibrant, dotted with patches of wildflowers and different hues of green. They weren’t alone, either; other groups were scattered across the field, some basking in the sun, others lounging under the trees with their own picnics. He even spotted a few familiar faces among them.

His name rang out across the breeze, pulling his attention toward Taiju and Yuzuriha, who were waving enthusiastically in their direction. Senku gave a small smile and lifted his hand to wave back. Nearby, Suika, Mirai, and Namari ran through the grass, laughing and chasing one another—clearly in the middle of a game of tag.

Gen gently tugged him toward the blanket, guiding him to sit down. Senku followed without resistance, settling onto the cloth just as Gen pulled a basket into his lap.

“When did you plan all of this?” Senku asked, eyeing his mate as he got comfortable beside him.

“Yesterday,” Gen replied, opening the basket as he spoke. He let out a soft hum while rummaging through its contents. “Chrome-chan made a comment I couldn’t help but agree with—you’ve been working non-stop these past few weeks. Well, since I met you, really. When was the last time you actually relaxed and let yourself de-stress?”

Senku let out a short huff, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes gleamed with amusement—and just a hint of mischief.

“Four weeks and a day ago,” he said. “You were there, and we had a pretty good time. If memory serves—which it always does—you were enjoying yourself just as much—”

Gen froze, a flush creeping up his neck. He made a small noise and pursed his lips, clearly caught off guard. He had to admit—he walked right into that one with how he worded the question. Letting out a fond scoff, he pulled out sandwiches carefully wrapped by Francois.

“Besides that, Senku-chan…” he said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Senku laughed and stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms as he watched Gen with an amused smile.

“I never thought it’d be this easy to get you so flustered. Either you’re losing your touch, or I’m just a natural at this.”

Gen pouted, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. “Hmph. Neither~ You just caught me off guard, Senku-chan.”

“Uh-huh…” Senku didn’t buy it, but he let it go—for now. “Well, to answer your question…” he murmured, turning inward as he sifted through his memories.

The truth was, he hadn’t really had the time to relax. Not in the way Gen meant. His brain was always working, always running calculations and simulations in the background. There was always something to solve, something to build, something to fix. A lazy day? That concept barely existed for him.

Ever since the world reverted to the Stone Age and he was revived, he’d been in motion—pushing forward with one goal in mind: bring everyone back. Every single person on Earth. It was a goal so massive, so heavy, that it clung to him like a second skin. Deep down, Senku knew he wouldn’t be able to save everyone. Not all the statues were intact. Some were likely lost entirely. But he kept trying—because giving up wasn’t an option.

So, to answer Gen’s question honestly—

“Not once since I’ve been revived,” he said.

He let out a sigh—not entirely surprised by the answer, but a little disheartened all the same.

A gentle nudge to his chest drew him out of his thoughts. Blinking, Senku sat up straighter and crossed his legs. Gen was offering him something, so he reached forward and took it from his hands.

“What’s this?”

“Despite your errible-tay luck, I’d say you’re quite lucky to have met me~” Gen said smugly, his grin full of self-satisfaction. “It’s been my personal mission to make sure you actually take a day off—to remind you to rest. Trust me, I know how exhausting it is to work non-stop.”

Before the petrification, Gen had been a well-known performer—a magician with a demanding schedule. Balancing his stage career while pursuing a PhD in psychology had been no small feat. Sure, he could’ve stopped at his master’s degree, but Gen had always loved a challenge. That meant long days preparing for shows, touring, and studying simultaneously—all while managing the quiet difficulties of being an omega.

He’d worked relentlessly to get where he was. He even made sure he had enough credits to graduate high school early so he could start his career without giving up on his education. His manager hadn’t supported it, but in 2019, Gen had finally begun the path toward his doctorate.

And then, everything turned to stone.

Gen exhaled through his nose and shook himself free of the thoughts before they dragged him down.

“You’re awfully stubborn when someone outright tells you to take a break,” he said, a teasing lilt returning to his voice. “So I’ve learned not to bother saying anything—and just drag you away instead. Now, let’s enjoy these sandwiches our dear Francois-chan made.”

Gen unwrapped his own sandwich as he spoke. “They made three different kinds—katsu, tamago, and fruit sando. I thought we should try all of them. Francois-chan’s cooking is a blessing, and we can’t waste this opportunity.”

Senku followed suit, peeling back the wrapping on his own sandwich. “I like to think that for every stroke of bad luck I get, the next bit of good luck comes back tenfold.” He glanced sideways at Gen with a smirk. “And it was so obvious you were up to something—you were looking at me like you had a trick hidden up your sleeve.”

Gen’s mouth watered at the sight of the katsu sandwich. It smelled divine, and he already knew it would taste just as good. He took a bite and let out a satisfied hum.

“I was looking forward to this, y’know.”

“I can tell,” Senku said with a soft smile, watching Gen’s cheeks puff slightly as he chewed. The sight made something warm curl in his chest.

Gen noticed his alpha staring and immediately grew shy, lifting a hand to cover the bottom half of his face.

Senku let out a quiet laugh and reached out to gently pull his hand away. Then he took a bite of his own sandwich, reassured by how much his omega was clearly enjoying himself.

They ate in comfortable silence, sharing the meal beneath the shade of the tree. When they grew thirsty, Gen passed him one of the bamboo water bottles. In the distance, voices mingled with the sounds of laughter—Suika and the other kids still running wild across the fields. The occasional shout or squeal reached their ears, but it only added to the peaceful atmosphere.

Once they finished the katsu, they moved on to the tamago sandwich. Of course, their silence didn’t last long. They slipped into casual conversation, drifting between topics like music, video games, old movies, anime, and increasingly absurd conspiracy theories—each one more ridiculous than the last.

Finally, they reached the fruit sandwich.

Gen took one bite—and immediately teared up.

Senku blinked. “Gen?”

“This is so good,” the omega said through a watery voice, wiping his eyes as he chewed. “I’ve got such a sweet tooth, and Francois-chan’s cooking has ruined my taste buds for anyone else. This is divine.”

The fruit—strawberries, kiwi, and orange—combined perfectly with the sweet cream. Gen savored every bit, his emotions spiraling into gratefulness. Silently, he sent a heartfelt thank-you to whatever deity had brought Ryusui into their lives and, in turn, brought Francois.

He exhaled deeply, eyes narrowing as he stared at the sandwich in frustration.

“Ukyo-chan… you lucky angel,” he grumbled, thinking of the future when humanity was fully restored and Francois would be back at the Nanami heir’s side—far away from his sandwich-making reach.

Senku snorted, barely containing a laugh at Gen’s dramatic grumble. “You’re getting emotional over a fruit sandwich and possibly plotting against Ukyo or Ryusui in the same breath. Impressive range, mentalist.”

Gen shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. Bringing the delicious goodness to his lips, he mumbled, “You say that like I wouldn’t do it.”

“Oh no, I ten billion percent believe you would— and you’d succeed,” Senku replied, clearly amused. He leaned back on his hands and tilted his head toward the sky, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But don’t worry. Since you clearly like their cooking, we’ll just steal Francois for ourselves.”

Gen blinked, caught off guard. “You’d do that?” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Even if their pay grade is beyond what we can afford?”

“Obviously,” Senku said like it was the most obvious fact in the world. “With our contribution to humanity, I’m sure Francois can cut us a deal. Scientific progress needs proper nutrition. And your happiness is a valuable secondary objective.” He glanced over with a grin. “Besides, Francois is wasted on Ryusui. Goldilocks eats like a king—he had people feed him fruit the first few days after revival and couldn’t even last thirty minutes when the villagers made us a feast, Ishigami-style.”

Gen covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. He reached out and pushed the alpha’s arm playfully “You’re terrible.”

“Efficient,” Senku corrected smugly.

Gen leaned against his shoulder, sandwich still in hand, now halfway gone. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you say manipulative things like that.”

“And you’re lucky I like you enough to resort to doing idiotic things,” Senku shot back, nudging him gently. His voice softened. “I’m a scientist. Something like this should be easy to recreate. I did make you that ice-cold bottle of cola you begged for. Much healthier than the store-bought stuff, by the way. I’m not letting you go without sweets. Or anything you want.”

Gen went quiet, the warmth behind Senku’s words settling deep in his chest. Then he smiled—bright and sincere. A soft, contented purr rumbled from the omega, and the alpha breathed in the comforting scent Gen released, letting it anchor him in the warmth of the moment.

“You’re such a softie, Senku-chan.”

“When it comes to you,” Senku muttered, not looking away. “Yeah.”

They sat like that for a while, soaking in the sun-dappled peace. The lingering sweetness of cream and fruit still clung to Gen’s lips as he finished his sandwich.

After a content breath, Gen shifted back, gathering the discarded wrappers and placing them into the basket. He did the same with the water bottles, tucking them neatly away. Once everything was set aside, he reached out and gently tugged on the sleeve of Senku’s lab coat, then patted his lap with his free hand.

Senku took the hint immediately. Without a word, he laid down and rested his head in the omega’s lap.

Gen automatically ran his fingers through Senku’s hair, gently untangling any knots he came across before repeating the motion. Senku immediately melted under the touch and let out a soft purr of his own. Gen felt it instantly—the low rumble starting in Senku’s chest, reverberating through his body and humming against Gen’s fingertips as they threaded through the alpha’s hair.

“Well then, I can’t let myself be outdone by you,” Gen murmured thoughtfully, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Ryusui-chan still hasn’t let you see the crew list, right?”

He hummed again, fingers never stopping. “I can think of a few ways to convince him to give it up. Just say the word, Senku-chan.”

Those ways, of course, happened to involve Ukyo—unknowingly. Ever since the invention of the camera and Yuzuriha’s new fashion line, it was easy to plant ideas. Gen would suggest a photoshoot to commemorate this new chapter in history. Naturally, he’d recommend Ukyo as a model, and the rest would follow. The girls would eagerly agree, ask Ukyo directly—and who was he to say no?

From there, Gen would steer the theme, offer insight from his days as a celebrity, maybe spark inspiration in Yuzuriha to design something daring, something that showed a bit more skin. Boom. Limited edition Ukyo photos secured. He’d make a few passing remarks to Ryusui, who would definitely take the bait. Then, Gen would casually offer a trade: a particular photo or two in exchange for that elusive crew list.

Everyone wins.

Gen snickered to himself, pleased at the brilliance of his plan.

“Going by that snicker of yours, you’ve already come up with a foolproof plan. As expected of my mentalist.” Senku’s eyes crinkled as he smirked up at Gen. “But as much as I want to see it play out, I’m going to have to pass on it. This is something between Ryusui and me. He’s just being petty about it.”

Gen pouted. “Aw…” He tilted his head to the side, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Is there a reason why?”

Senku’s lips parted, and he huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Well, in short, it has something to do with me. I was… pretty distracted at the time and enjoying myself. I mean, I’m pretty happy with the outcome.”

He smiled to himself, eyes drifting to meet Gen’s with a knowing look.

Gen’s eye twitched as his heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what Senku was referring to—when they mated and spent a few secluded days holed up in the observatory. His fingers in Senku’s hair stilled for just a second before resuming, now with a little more care, a soft, bashful smile tugging at his lips.

“You mean to tell me the reason Ryusui-chan won’t hand over the list is because you discarded your duties… while getting thoroughly distracted by me?” Gen asked, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, voice lilting somewhere between smug and mortified. “That’s such an illy-say reason. No one bats an eye when he and Ukyo-chan are practically eye-fucking each other.”

Senku shrugged, entirely unbothered. It wasn’t the whole reason, but he wasn’t about to explain it—not yet. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by telling Gen that Ryusui thought they should’ve considered things more carefully before becoming bonded. Especially since it happened while Gen was in the middle of his heat and Senku had just begun entering his rut. Their cycles didn’t influence their decisions—Senku was confident in that, and Gen had reassured him, too—but Ryusui still believed they acted too impulsively.

Senku knew if he told Gen, the omega would fly into a quiet rage and storm off to confront the blond alpha.

“Not my fault you were a compelling new variable,” Senku said smoothly. “I had to confirm my discovery for myself. I was conducting very thorough research.”

“Yes, a whole three-day study,” Gen deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched. He let out a long sigh. “In a locked observatory.”

“A controlled environment,” Senku corrected, the smugness blooming across his face. “We had several stress relief sessions. I got excellent data, and you were thoroughly satisfied. I’d call it a win-win situation.”

Gen groaned, dropping his forehead against Senku’s for a second. “You’re lucky we’re mates, or I’d strangle you right here under this lovely tree.” He lifted his head and fixed Senku with a look. “You really have no shame. I still don’t understand how you were able to move around like it was nothing while I was left aching and trembling. It’s simply not fair.”

“And you’re lucky I like it when you get all worked up.” Senku smirked, reaching up to take Gen’s hand from his hair, holding it against his chest for a moment. His thumb traced gently over Gen’s knuckles before lifting the hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against it as he stared into the omega’s eyes. Crimson irises darkened, a hint of lust flickering within.

“You weren’t complaining at all when we were having sex multiple times,” Senku murmured. “You even begged for more. I aim to please my mate.”

Gen’s mouth went dry, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “It’s not that I’m complaining,” he murmured. “I’m just saying how unfair it was. My whole body was ravished. I’m still sore—it’s unbelievable. But I did enjoy it very much~”

Senku perked up at that. He sat up quickly and leaned into Gen’s space, his face hovering close to the omega’s. “And what exactly did you enjoy?”

Of course, Senku already knew the answer—he’d methodically tested what motions made Gen moan, what touches made him keen and mewl, what rhythm had the omega trembling and breathless, pleading for more. Senku knew Gen’s body better than anyone else. But still, he wanted to hear it. He wanted Gen to say it aloud, to voice his pleasure plainly, especially in moments like this—where they can be honest before getting lost in the throes of passion.

Gen felt the shift in the air between them. His gaze dropped to Senku’s lips before returning to the alpha’s eyes. He whispered teasingly, his voice light and airy, “I really liked it when you did that thing—you know…”

His fingers brushed against Senku’s hand, tracing soft circles. “Taking me from behind, holding me up against…” Gen trailed off, bit his lip, and giggled. “Senku-chan is very creative~”

Senku tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a pleased smirk as he inched even closer. “It’s all thanks to your flexibility, mentalist…”

His voice dropped, low and husky. “There’s still a couple of things I want to try. Would you be up for experimenting a bit more?”

Gen sucked in a soft breath at the implication, feeling a slow, warm flutter of arousal stir in his core. “Mmhmm… What do you have in mind?”

“You know how I’ve been working nonstop since we got back?” Senku murmured, watching him closely. Gen nodded.

“Well,” Senku continued, a half-smile forming on his lips, “since we’re mates now, it only made sense to share a cabin. I made a few… personal arrangements for us. One of them being a full-length mirror.”

Senku caught the exact moment Gen processed his meaning—the way his gray-blue eyes dilated with sudden lust, the deeper flush spreading across his cheeks, the scent of arousal beginning to rise from his skin.

“I was thinking…” Senku leaned in, his voice a seductive murmur against Gen’s ear, “I could fuck you right in front of the mirror—so you can see all the pretty faces you make when I take you from behind.”

Gen’s arm shot out, gripping the collar of Senku’s tunic. A sound slipped from his lips—something between a whine and a whimper, raw and wanting.

Senku grinned, triumphant. He could see it: the image he painted had taken full form in Gen’s mind.

Gen moved quickly, guiding Senku away from his ear and toward his face, breath hitching. He pressed their foreheads together, whining softly against the alpha’s lips. “Senku-chan…”

Senku was just millimeters away from capturing Gen’s lips. The omega’s mouth parted in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut. And just as the alpha finally pressed their lips together—

“Ahem.”

Senku froze.

Gen immediately recognized the voice, and the couple reluctantly turned toward the interruption.

Senku’s gaze landed squarely on Kinro, who stood stiff as a statue, wearing the expression of a man who had just poked a bear and instantly regretted it. Next to him stood the ever-curious and famously charming reporter omega, Minami.

She had one hand on her hip and a smirk stretching ear to ear. Her eyes locked onto Gen with glinting mischief as she wiggled her brows in exaggerated amusement.

“Sorry to interrupt the couple of the hour, but we’re going around offering slices of melon—Francois was kind enough to prepare them for everyone. Any takers?”

Sure enough, Kinro held a basket that contained the very treat Minami was describing.

“I told her it was a bad time—we could come back later. Really, sorry for interrupting you—” Kinro said quickly, already turning to make his escape.

But Minami’s hand shot out, expertly grabbing the back of his collar before he could retreat.

“Nonsense, Kinro! We’re just doing good Samaritan work,” she chirped brightly. “Helping out Suika and Mirai and feeding the fine members of the Kingdom of Science.”

Gen gave her a flat look, lips twitching. He could see right through her act. Minami had absolutely caught a glimpse of their intimate moment—and now she was enjoying every second of watching them squirm.

The sweet aroma of fruit caught Gen’s attention. It smelled sugary and refreshing.

Senku scowled at the interruption, brows drawn together. “We don’t want—”

“I’ll have one.” Gen’s eyes were already locked on the basket in Kinro’s hands.

Senku blinked, momentarily surprised. He thought Gen would be at least a little irritated that their moment had been interrupted. But the omega looked far more interested in the fruit than the ruined kiss. Senku let out a quiet huff of amusement.

“Perfect, perfect,” Minami chirped, clapping her hands together.

Kinro hesitantly stepped forward, holding the basket out in front of him so Gen could choose a slice. Senku followed the movement with a flat look, clearly unimpressed.

Why me… Kinro screamed internally.

He still couldn’t meet Gen’s eyes, and it was even harder to ignore the quiet pressure from Senku. The alpha had some kind of grudge ever since that incident, and this definitely wasn’t helping. But Kinro knew he couldn’t avoid Senku forever—he was their chief, their pack leader, and a scientist. Plus, he was one of the men responsible for crafting his glasses alongside Kaseki.

Speaking of glasses… maybe it’s time to request a new pair.

Gen finally reached out and picked a large, juicy-looking slice of melon.

“You should grab one too, Senku-chan,” he said with a teasing smile. “Just so you know, I’m not sharing if you suddenly decide you want one when they’re all gone.”

Senku laughed, leaning back on his hands. “I’m good. Still full from lunch. Besides, I can always get my share from you.”

Gen took a bite, the sweetness bursting on his tongue. He raised a brow at Senku’s comment. “I said I’m not sharing~”

Kinro took that as his cue to flee, turning and speed-walking in the opposite direction without another word. Minami lingered only long enough to shoot them a playful wave.

"Enjoy!"

The blonde omega had a plan—she was going to meet up with Ruri, Kohaku, and Nikki immediately. Just yesterday, the three of them had tried to get Gen to spill all the juicy details, but he had stubbornly refused, dodging every question with that sly little smile of his.

But now? Now Minami had seen it firsthand.

She’d witnessed just how Senku and Gen were together—and she was itching to share the new intel she’d gathered. The subtle touches, the look in Gen’s eyes, the heat practically rolling off Senku—it was enough to make even her blush.

There was no way she was keeping this to herself.

Meanwhile, Yuzuriha and Taiju were still off in their own lovey-dovey bubble, completely oblivious to the world around them. And as for Ukyo and Ryusui? Minami could only shake her head.

God only knows what those two were up to right now.

__________

September 10th, 5741 AD.

The day had finally arrived.

After a year and a half of tireless work, the Perseus—a massive ship built by the Kingdom of Science—was complete. Half of the team would embark today, setting sail on a voyage that marked the beginning of their greatest challenge yet.

The name Perseus was chosen with purpose. Inspired by the Greek myth of the demigod who faced and defeated Medusa, it symbolized their own battle ahead: to uncover the truth behind the petrification phenomenon, confront the enigmatic Why-Man, and ultimately seize the power that could turn humanity to stone.

It wasn’t just a journey across oceans.

It was a journey to reclaim their future.

Five days had passed since the peaceful picnic.

Now, everything hinged on the list—the final crew roster that would decide who would board the Perseus and who would remain behind the mainland Japan. Tensions were high, and emotions even higher.

For many, the weight of possibly saying goodbye—maybe forever—was beginning to settle in.

Minami, ever the composed reporter, found herself getting misty-eyed along with several others. The thought of not seeing their friends, companions, or perhaps even their loved ones off again was too much to brush aside.

To preserve the moment, they gathered one last time before the announcement. Laughter mixed with bittersweet smiles as the camera shutter clicked—freezing a fleeting instant in time.

A group photo.

A memory.

In case this truly was the last time they’d all be together.

Two teams, huh? World exploration and humanity development… Gen mused silently.

He wondered if he’d be picked. Not that it mattered—he knew Senku would drag him aboard the ship regardless of what Ryusui said. And honestly, he wouldn’t blame the alpha. He didn’t want to be separated from his mate either.

Ryusui, practically vibrating with excitement, let out a loud, boisterous laugh and snapped his fingers, the sound instantly drawing everyone’s attention. “Ha-ha! As captain of this vessel, I’ve prepared a list of my desired crewmates to join me on this journey,” Ryusui announced proudly. “And truth be told, I’d take every single one of you with me if I could!”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Senku replied dryly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Except if the ship sinks, all of humanity goes extinct. Some people have already started families. There are children to consider. That’s why we’re splitting into two teams as a precaution. If something happens—say, everyone onboard croaks, not that I’d let that happen—then the ones left behind will have to carry on and ensure humanity survives and prevails.”

“Senku-chan isn’t wrong,” Gen chimed in, waving a hand in the air with a lazy flourish. “Besides, the ship isn’t big enough to carry over 150 people. If something were to happen, who would be left to revive humanity from stone?”

“There’s a maximum capacity on the ship anyway,” Minami added, patting Mirai gently on the head. “I’ve already decided to stay behind… Someone has to keep an eye on Tsukasa.”

“That’s right! Minami and I will take care of Big Brother,” Mirai said with a determined nod. She looked up at Senku with a bright smile. “So make sure you come back safe, Senku! My brother’s life depends on you.”

Ryusui kicked down the boarding ramp with a heavy thud, the wooden plank slamming against the dock. Clutching the list he’d been guarding like a state secret, he finally stood tall, ready to announce who would board the Perseus.

Around him, the crowd buzzed—nerves, excitement, and unease swirling in equal measure.

“Needless to say,” Ryusui began, voice firm, serious for once, “this is an unprecedented and dangerous mission. I can’t guarantee your lives, and there’s a very real possibility we may never return.”

He let the words hang in the air before continuing.

“Even if I call your name, you’re free to choose whether you want to stay or come aboard. The choice is yours. I won’t force anyone.”

Gen hummed thoughtfully, glancing around at the crowd. Everyone was on edge, straining to catch the names that would decide their futures.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Gen caught a subtle movement behind Ryusui. Emerging from the captain’s shadow like a ghost, Ukyo appeared and leaned casually against the railing of the ship. He tipped his hat up, amusement twinkling in his sea green eyes as he surveyed the gathered crowd from his vantage point.

Gen blinked, squinted slightly, and shot a look that said: When did you get up there, Ukyo-chan?

Ukyo merely shrugged with a soft laugh.

“You know damn well I’m coming aboard,” Chrome said, stepping forward with a wide grin and eyes full of determination. “I almost feel insulted that you’d even make it sound optional.”

“That’s a real nice noble speech,” Senku said, smirking, “but enough with the bullshit. Just tell us who’s going. If they don’t wanna come aboard, we’ll trick them into going—and then they’ll be ten billion percent stuck with us!”

A glint of amusement flickered in his crimson eyes, his trademark irreverence earning a few uneasy chuckles from the crowd.

Gen immediately stepped in, voice light and teasing to ease the tension. “Ah, my specialty! Just leave it up to me—this should be easy~”

Ryusui chuckled but shook his head, smiling down at the bi-colored omega. “I have no doubt you could, Gen. You could convince every single person here if you wanted to.” His tone softened, more serious now. “But if we’re stuck out there with someone who’s less willing? Well—getting themselves killed is one thing. Endangering the whole ship is another. That’s a risk we can’t take… or am I wrong?”

Gen exhaled through his nose, the smile on his lips turning small and knowing. He could feel the tension easing from a few individuals around them. Ryusui’s words—and his own follow-up—helped underscore what they all needed to hear:

This was a choice.

No one was being forced. And if anyone felt pressured, then they had every right to step back. Because half-hearted resolve wouldn’t just cost one life—it could endanger them all.

“As I read these names, only those who are truly prepared to embark may come aboard this science vessel—Perseus!” Ryusui declared with a flourish, finally unveiling the paper in his hand.

What he held wasn’t just a list. It was a scroll—long, dramatic, and absurdly ornate.

Gen blinked, caught off guard. It looked like something straight out of a video game. The kind of ancient quest scroll that would contain riddles or send them chasing after mythical beasts.

He wasn’t the only one stunned. A few audible gasps echoed through the crowd—no doubt from those who, like him, had modern-world memories and gamer instincts.

Before he could fully process it, a hand slipped into his. Familiar, warm, and tugging.

Gen looked up and caught the back of Senku’s head just as the alpha wordlessly led him toward the boarding ramp. Gen let out a quiet giggle and gave his hand a squeeze.

Senku glanced over his shoulder with a smug grin. They successfully slipped on board while Ryusui had everyone’s attention.

“Geez,” Gen whispered, jutting out his lower lip in a playful pout. “You couldn’t have waited until Ryusui-chan called out our names? What if I didn’t want to go?”

“No way. You don’t have a choice,” Senku said with a soft chuckle. He led Gen until they stood face-to-face. “You’re stuck with me. And I need you by my side.”

His voice was steady but laced with sincerity. Then he smirked. “Besides, what if we run into some enemy and your skills are the only thing that could save us? I’m not taking that risk.”

Gen arched a brow, lips curling into a sly smile. “So… you want me, or just my skills?”

"You first. Your skills come in second, of course,” Senku replied with a grin, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

Gen lifted a sleeve to his mouth, trying (and failing) to hide his laughter. “Nicely answered~”

“What the heck?!” Chrome’s voice rang out, catching their attention. He pointed dramatically at Senku. “How is Senku already on board—wait, Gen?! What are you doing here? Ryusui hasn’t even called your name yet!”

The couple turned as Chrome and Kaseki walked up the ramp. Gen offered a small wave toward the brown-haired beta.

They watched Chrome hop on board and yelp as he nearly ran into Ukyo—who was casually lounging near the railing.

“Ukyo?! Did you just appear out of thin air?! How—”

Gen seized the moment with dramatic flair. “That’s etty-pray easy, Chrome-chan!” he said in a singsong voice. “You see, with my skills as a magician, I embedded my magical powers into Ukyo-chan, chanted a few words, and cast a teleportation spell on him. And voilà~ Ukyo-chan appeared!”

Ukyo snorted, clearly trying not to laugh as he shook his head.

Chrome gaped at them like a fish out of water, his eyes wide in awe.

Ukyo gently placed a hand on the beta’s shoulder, his smile calm. “He’s just joking, Chrome. I’ve been here the whole time. Ryusui slung me over his shoulder earlier and said he wanted to show me something. That’s how I ended up up here.”

Chrome slumped forward, disappointed. “Aw man…”

“Don’t build up his expectations only to shoot them down later, mentalist.” Senku shook his head with a fond smile.

“You, on the other hand, say the most impossible things and then proceed to build those impossible scientific projects that shouldn’t even be remotely feasible in this age,” Ukyo said, crossing his arms as Ryusui’s voice called out names in the background and more people began to board the ship.

“Isn’t it fun, Senku-chan?” Gen said, wearing a smile that was anything but innocent. It immediately caught the alpha’s attention.

“To watch the hope in their eyes shrivel up and die~”

Gen snickered.

“I get what you mean,” Senku replied, eyes gleaming. The two burst into shared, sinister laughter.

“A match made in heaven,” Ukyo deadpanned.

“More like a match made in hell,” Chrome muttered beside him, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m curious to see who else made it onto the list. Ryusui was pretty damn stubborn to the end,” Senku said, scratching his ear with his pinky. “It was nice seeing him on edge, waiting for me to strike, though.”

Gen hummed. “I suppose he wouldn’t care if you took a peek now that he’s already calling out names.”

Taking that as his cue, Senku casually made his way over to the blonde alpha. Gen watched as he stepped beside Ryusui and scanned the long scroll of names.

“It’s great to finally have a chance to step foot on this ship. It’s just as big as it looks!” Yuzuriha said in awe, her eyes wide as she looked around the deck.

In the distance, Taiju, Yo, and Magma were already running about, the latter two causing their usual ruckus. Nikki kept a sharp eye on Yo and Magma, knowing full well their reputation for mischief.

“I’m more worried about the prisoners,” Kohaku said, frowning as her gaze shifted back to the shore. “Most of our best fighters are leaving, so who’s going to stay behind and keep an eye on them? If they escape… who knows what damage they’ll do.”

She wasn’t wrong. Kohaku had spent nearly half her time acting as the prison guard, keeping watch over two of the most dangerous individuals they had—Hyoga and Homura.

“No need to worry, lioness. We’ve already got that covered,” Senku called out. “We’re taking them with us. So what if we become a moving prison? As long as we supervise them, we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll set up a rotating guard schedule every four hours. Senku already listed the names of who’ll keep watch over our prisoners,” Ukyo added, voice calm and reassuring.

“Is everyone really okay with this?” Chrome asked, a hint of doubt in his tone. “Is the cell foolproof? Listen, I’ve been to jail before, and it was pretty easy to break out. The guard was kinda crappy at his job too.”

“Hey!” Yo let out an offended gasp. “I was not!”

Chrome stared at the orange-haired alpha with a flat expression.

“I doubt it,” Ukyo sighed and rubbed his forehead. “They simply leave us no choice. They’re just too strong to leave behind.”

He turned to the group. “Kohaku, you’ll take the first watch, then it’ll rotate to Kinro, followed by Nikki. I’ll jump in if needed, but otherwise, I’ll be on sonar duty—this ship’s ears.”

“Ukyo-chan…” Gen covered his mouth with a hand, eyes wide in mock awe. He looked at the omega like he’d just witnessed something noble.

“I know I’ll be safe under your care,” Gen said sweetly as he walked toward the white-haired omega and wrapped his arms around him in a sudden embrace. “Ukyo-chan is just so cool~”

Ukyo stiffened on instinct, clearly caught off guard by the sudden affectionate hug. A soft blush crept up his neck, visible even with his collar tugged high. “G-Gen…” he muttered, awkwardly patting the omega’s back. “You really don’t have to do this every time I help—”

Gen didn’t know what had come over him.

One moment he was watching from the sidelines, and the next, he was wrapping his arms around Ukyo like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I just really appreciate everything you do,” he said softly. “You’re really the best.”

Senku’s eyes narrowed just a little. The affectionate display wasn’t unlike Gen, but something about it felt… off. His gaze sharpened slightly, already calculating.

Then Gen felt it—a prickling behind his eyes, an unexpected swell of emotion that caught him completely off guard. He blinked rapidly, willing the tears away before they could spill.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, inwardly panicking.

But like always, he smoothed it over with a smile.

“But I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that,” Gen said lightly as he pulled away, drifting to Ukyo’s side. He leaned in, voice teasing. "I’m sure Ryusui-chan already tells you that for all of us~”

Ukyo’s ears turned red as he shyly stepped away, tugging his cap down to hide his face. “There you go teasing again…”

“Hehe~” Gen chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Orry-say, my dear Ukyo-chan~”

Before Ukyo could reply, Ryusui’s voice rang out behind them. “Ah, by the way, Gen—you’re the last one on the list!”

“Eriously-say?” Gen sighed dramatically, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Ha-ha! Time to set sail!” Ryusui shouted with excitement as he gave the long-awaited order. Without wasting a moment, he disappeared through the doors leading to the helm—no doubt already at the wheel, guiding the vessel himself.

The sails unfurled with a snap, catching the wind as the Perseus groaned to life and began to move. Slowly, then steadily, the ship pulled away from shore.

The crew stood along the railings, watching the coastline shrink behind them. Cheers and goodbyes echoed from the people left behind, their figures growing smaller with every passing second. The land faded into the distance—familiar, beloved, and now far behind.

Gen heard a sudden commotion erupt across the deck. He blinked in confusion as a loud splash followed Taiju’s shout. The tall alpha was leaning over the railing, yelling into the water. A moment later, Taiju dove in, and Gen’s eyes widened.

“What the—?”

Within the next ten minutes, the crowd gasped as Taiju swam back toward the ship—dragging a dripping, exhausted Ginro behind him.

Ginro collapsed onto the deck, completely soaked and panting hard.

“Gotta admit, you deserve some props, Ginro.” Senku raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely impressed.

“Damn right,” Ryusui agreed with a nod, crossing his arms.

“I misjudged you,” Kohaku said, placing a hand on her hip with a small smile.

“Yeah, me too! I always thought you were a pathetic, scaredy-cat slimeball!” Nikki cackled, smacking him on the back. Ginro jumped, startled, but didn’t protest.

“I never saw this coming in a billion years, uly-tray,” Gen added with a tilt of his head, clearly stunned.

Kinro’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “I believed in you, Ginro,” he said, voice thick with pride.

Cheers erupted around them as everyone began to chant the blonde beta’s name, circling around him like he was the hero of the hour. Ginro let out a tight-lipped smile, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Gen took a step back and watched the crowd as it erupted in celebration around Ginro. The omega rubbed the back of his neck with a tired laugh, his expression soft.

Lately, everything feels just a bit more exhausting than usual… Gen thought, glancing over his shoulder until he spotted a nearby wall. With quiet relief, he leaned his weight against it, letting his shoulders relax for just a moment. A small sigh slipped past his lips, unguarded and weary.

Honestly, a nap doesn’t sound so bad. He closed his eyes briefly, the cool sea breeze brushing his face. It’ll probably take us hours, maybe even days, to reach the island anyway…

Across the deck, Kohaku’s voice rose with curiosity. “So, what’s our next course? Going to the edge of the world?”

“Nope. First destination: Treasure Island,” Senku said as he turned toward the horizon, wind tugging his coat. His eyes lit up, locked on something only he could see far beyond the waves. “We’re going to get our hands on the god-tier item that’ll save humanity. It’s on the island where my dad and the original astronaut crew washed up after the petrification event.”

Gen opened his eyes again and slowly pushed himself off the wall. His limbs felt heavier than they should have, but he managed to steady himself before anyone noticed. He made his way over, joining the group as they gathered around Senku.

The alpha turned to face them, that familiar spark of brilliance shining in his gaze.

“It’s the place where the astronauts who avoided petrification lived out the rest of their lives,” Senku said, “and where the spaceship Soyuz sleeps.”

A soft smile crept onto Gen’s lips, a quiet warmth blooming in his chest at the mention of Byakuya and the legacy left behind.

But then, unexpectedly, a yawn crept up on him. He covered it quickly with one hand, blinking through the tug of exhaustion. Ugh, not now…

He caught Senku’s glance flick toward him with a hint of concern, but Gen just flashed him a sleepy grin and waved it off.

“Don’t mind me,” Gen said lightly, his tone breezy. “The sound of your voice is just so calming and reassuring—it puts me right at ease, my dearest scientist~”

Senku narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t comment.

And still, as the ship cut smoothly across the waves, Gen couldn’t shake the thought pressing at the back of his mind:

I feel like something’s shifting inside me. I suppose it must be part of being bonded. But still… I haven’t been sleeping comfortably. Is it really just the change in sleeping arrangements? Or… something else?

He unconsciously brought a hand to his stomach, absently rubbing the space just below his ribs. Gen wasn’t in any pain—just an odd, persistent fluttering, like a swarm of butterflies. Maybe it was the nerves of traveling, the uncertainty of what awaited them on Treasure Island. Or perhaps he was getting seasick? Earlier that morning, he could barely stomach breakfast. He guessed it was just the anticipation of finding out who’d be going on the journey.

His sense of smell had sharpened over the past few weeks. Everything felt heightened—more vivid, more aware. Gen knew he was becoming sensitive to things that hadn’t bothered him before.

His nose wrinkled at the faint scent of salt and iron in the air. Normally, the sea breeze wouldn’t have bothered him—it was fresh, crisp, alive—but today it seemed different. Too sharp. Almost offensive. The omega grimaced, leaning against the railing for support as a wave of warmth and exhaustion rolled beneath his skin.

“Senku-chan,” he muttered, brushing off the discomfort with practiced ease as he called out. The alpha was at his side immediately. “Would you be a dear and show me where our cabin is? I think I’ll take a short nap in the meantime.”

“A nap? Did you not sleep well?” Senku asked, concern lacing his voice.

“I was buzzing with too much excitement—it made it difficult to fall asleep~” Gen gave him a closed-eyed smile, telling a half-truth with practiced charm. “Besides, I’m dying to see the beds Chrome-chan mentioned…”

Senku let out a laugh and placed a firm hand on his lower back, gently guiding him toward the lower decks. “Of course you are… I’ll only let you nap for an hour or two. Treasure Island is about five hours away—I’ve already estimated that much. We should arrive sometime in the afternoon, around one.”

“Eriously-say? That’s a lot closer than I thought…” Gen’s mouth parted slightly in surprise as they descended the stairs and navigated the winding hallways before stopping at a door.

“If things go according to plan, we’ll grab the treasure and return to the main island. It just depends on whether the Soyuz is in plain sight or hidden by the terrain. If it’s buried, we might have to dig.”

“Knowing your infamous record with luck, I’d say we’re in for a ride…” Gen sighed dramatically, slumping forward in defeat.

Senku let out a hearty laugh. “Lady Luck hasn’t failed me yet.”

“Yet, you say…” Gen shook his head fondly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Senku turned the knob, pushed open the door, and led them both inside.

Gen took in the view—it was surprisingly spacious, a huge improvement from the tents they’d been staying in back at Roppongi Hills. It wasn’t as large as the observatory, of course, but it had a cozy, homey feel.

A queen-sized bed sat against the wall, already made up with neatly arranged sheets and pillows. A bedside table stood beside it, and their luggage was placed at the foot of the bed.

When did Senku-chan have the chance to bring all this on board?

“The good thing about having a cabin,” Senku said with a smug little snicker, “is the privilege of having your own bathroom. We don’t have to use the communal bathing area.”

The bathroom was on their right, just past the entrance, marked by a sleek sliding door instead of the usual push-open type.

In the corner of the room was a desk—likely set up for Senku’s future work and planning. Nearby, a small sitting area held two chairs with a little table in between. In front of the bed, a long, sturdy drawer was placed against the bathroom wall, and right next to it stood a full-length mirror.

Oh. Gen swallowed as a memory surfaced—the whisper-soft, unspoken promise shared between him and Senku.

His lips stretched into a soft smile as he shook himself free of the thought and turned to the alpha before him. “I love it. You really thought of everything, Senku-chan.”

Senku’s cheeks flushed pink as he shyly looked away, but Gen could tell the alpha was pleased with himself. “I wanted you to feel comfortable,” Senku murmured, “and make this place a home for us… for however long this lasts.”

Gen circled around to face him, then wrapped his arms around Senku’s shoulders in a soft embrace. He rubbed his cheek tenderly against his mate’s, releasing pleased, affectionate pheromones that filled the room with warmth. Senku’s arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, one hand sliding up to rest between Gen’s shoulder blades.

Gen spoke softly into his ear, voice laced with warmth. “As long as you’re here, I swear anything can be turned into a home.”

“…Yeah. ‘Home isn’t a place,’” Senku’s voice lowered as he nuzzled into Gen’s neck. “‘It’s the people and the bonds we share’…”

Gen stilled, a soft breath catching in his throat. That had to be a quote—one with weight. And if he had to guess… it came from none other than Byakuya Ishigami.

Senku’s father. A man Gen had only heard about in stories—always told with a casual tone that tried too hard not to sound emotional. But Gen saw through it. He saw the flickers of pain in Senku’s eyes every time his father was mentioned. He knew how deeply that bond ran, and how much Senku missed him.

How I wish I could’ve met him… Gen thought. A man who believed in Senku until the very end. A man whose love still echoes in his son’s heart.

Gen gave Senku one final squeeze before pulling back slightly and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.“Mmhmm… from now on, every time we’re apart, I’ll say ‘I’m home’ when I come back to you.”

“No, you’ve got it backwards,” Senku said, shaking his head fondly. He looked at Gen with that rare, gentle smile he reserved just for him. “You’re supposed to say ‘Welcome back.’ I’m the one who’s supposed to say ‘I’m home.’”

Gen let out a soft laugh. “Does it matter?”

A look in the alpha’s crimson eyes said everything: Yes. It does.

Gen sighed, then playfully tugged on Senku’s collar. “You know, Senku-chan, I might just drag you to bed so we can nap together—but something tells me you have things to do…”

The offer was tempting—very tempting—and Senku clearly contemplated it for a second. But Gen was right. There were still things he needed to take care of around the ship. Senku bit the inside of his cheek and let out a frustrated huff.

“You tempting minx… Unfortunately, you’re right on the dot. I’ve gotta finalize the sleeping arrangements now that I know who’s onboard, check in with Ryusui about our navigation, and wrap up a little project I’ve been working on with Chrome. You go get your beauty sleep. I’ll see you in the comms room in an hour or two, yeah?”

“I’ll find my way. I remember how we got here, and the comms room’s where Ryusui-chan disappeared into earlier, right?” Gen nodded.

“…” Senku hesitated. “I can come back and take you—”

“How about you just leave me a map of the Perseus,” Gen offered with a smile, “and give me the grand tour later—after we get the important stuff out of the way?”

“Fine. And if anyone offers to show you around, tell them no.” Senku walked to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a piece of paper—Gen assumed it was the map. “I’ll leave this here.”

He set it gently on the table, then turned back and walked toward Gen. Senku cupped the omega’s cheeks, gave him a quick, affectionate peck, and headed for the door.

“Sweet dreams. I’ll see you later.”

Gen snorted, giggling as he waved goodbye. “Try not to cause too much trouble while I’m napping.”

“And if I do, I’ve got you to clean up my mess,” Senku replied with a final smirk before slipping out and letting the door close behind him.

Gen stood in the middle of the room for a moment, staring at the closed door. Then, with a content sigh, he walked to the bed. He set their bags down on the floor, not bothering to unpack just yet. He removed his purple overcoat, folded it neatly, and placed it on the bedside table. He did the same with his yukata and obi, leaving only his high-collared shirt and pants.

Pulling back the covers and rearranging the pillows to his liking, Gen climbed in. Almost instantly, the exhaustion from earlier came flooding back. He lay on his side and hugged a pillow close.

Just a short nap, Gen told himself. Then I’ll be back to normal—rested and ready for whatever challenges come next.

With a soft sigh, Gen closed his eyes. Wrapped in the quiet comfort of the room—and the lingering scent of his mate—he finally drifted off to sleep.

__________

Bonus+

Gen opened his eyes, dazed and slightly confused.

He was no longer in the cabin. Instead, he found himself lying beneath a cherry blossom tree at the top of a small hill. Its arched branches stretched overhead like gentle arms, shielding him from the sun as soft pink petals drifted down, carried lazily by the breeze.

Slowly, he sat up.

The landscape around him was a sea of color. Fields of flowers stretched as far as he could see—carnations, violets, daisies, irises… he recognized many of them, but there were others too, unfamiliar and dreamlike, blooming in impossible hues.

It should’ve felt bizarre. But instead, there was a strange tranquility to it all.

Then—snap.

The faint sound of rustling, followed by the crack of a twig.

Gen’s head turned sharply toward the sound.

Without quite knowing why, he rose to his feet. The grass beneath him was soft and warm against his bare soles, damp with dew yet somehow comforting. The scent of wildflowers mixed with the earthy richness of spring air as he made his way down the gentle slope.

The flowers swayed around him, parting gently as he passed, as though urging him forward—guiding him toward something just beyond his reach.

His ears caught another rustle—gentle, deliberate.

Curiosity stirred in his chest, and Gen followed the sound, weaving through tall blooms until it led him to a quiet patch of daisies. He stopped as his eyes landed on a pair of… rabbits? Bunnies? Kits?

They were small—almost impossibly so—and unbearably cute. They looked as though they’d melt under a single touch, their fur so soft it might as well have been spun from clouds.

One was snowy white. The other, a mottled black-and-white, like spilled ink over fresh parchment. They darted around each other in lively circles—chasing, tumbling, never straying far from one another. Their tiny white paws were smudged with green, presumably from the grass beneath them.

Gen couldn’t stop himself from smiling. So cute…

As if sensing his gaze, they paused. Two twitching noses turned in his direction. Without hesitation or fear, they hopped toward him.

Gen knelt slowly, resting his hands lightly on his thighs, enchanted.

“Adorable, aren’t they?”

The soft male voice came from just beside him, startling him enough that he glanced sharply to the side. He hadn’t heard anyone approach. A hand settled gently on his right shoulder, and he turned to look—but the sun was behind the stranger, casting his face in shadow.

“These two are full of curiosity and mischief,” the man said warmly. “Born of the same litter. They’re always together.”

Gen could feel it—gentleness, calm, radiating off the man like sunlight on skin. There was no fear, only a strange, quiet familiarity.

“You’re so focused on them,” the stranger continued, his tone teasing, “that you haven’t noticed the rest of the colony.”

Gen blinked, and just then, he felt something soft brush against his hand. He turned back to the two kits.

But behind them… more movement.

All across the field, the grass shifted. Ears twitched in the distance. Rabbits—dozens of them—slowly appeared among the flowers, watching, nestled in sun-dappled patches as if they’d been there all along.

“They seem to trust you with these kits,” the man said, his voice low and calm as he settled beside Gen.

Gen shifted from kneeling to sitting fully on the ground, careful not to disturb the two little rabbits as he adjusted his position. Once seated, he made himself comfortable, legs crossed, hands resting in his lap.

“Really?” Gen asked, glancing at the kits who seemed unbothered by his presence.

“Yup.” The man nodded. “Usually, rabbit mothers instinctively hide their young to protect them from predators—typically in a shallow nest. They’ll even become aggressive if they feel that nest is being threatened.”

Gen looked down again, just as one of the kits nudged its nose against his leg. The other made a clumsy attempt to crawl onto his lap.

“Where’s their mother?” he asked quietly. “Would she get angry if I touch them?”

The man let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “No, she won’t. She’s away on purpose—rabbits do that, to avoid drawing attention to where they’ve hidden their young. She’ll come back around dusk to feed them. Despite what the myths say, a mother rabbit won’t abandon her babies.”

He paused, voice growing even gentler. “But if you’re worried, you can always return them to their nest. She’ll be back. She always comes back.”

Gen gently helped the kits climb onto his lap. Almost instantly, they began to squirm and sniff around, their little noses twitching as they took in his scent. One clumsily tumbled forward, and the other followed a moment later.

Gen’s instincts kicked in—his hands moved quickly, cradling the tiny bodies against his stomach. A sudden warmth bloomed there, radiating outward like a ripple in calm water. They were impossibly soft, like clouds molded into shape.

“How do you know so much about rabbits?” he asked, still watching the kits with quiet wonder.

“My son,” the man replied, his voice rich with fondness. There was a hum of joy beneath his words, like he was remembering something precious. “He was always drawn to the moon—fascinated by it. Wanted to learn everything he could… even the myths about the rabbits who live up there.”

He paused, watching Gen gently reposition the kits before eventually placing them back in the grass with tender care.

“He was always so curious,” the man continued softly. “Always had a question on his tongue and needed an answer right away. One night, he asked me why the moon kept following him around. And I told him—maybe it was in love with him.”

The man chuckled, the sound warm and rich.

His laughter was so infectious that Gen couldn’t help but giggle, a soft smile curling on his lips as he glanced down at the two sleepy kits now curled at his side.

“His reaction was priceless,” the man continued, letting out an amused huff. “So I couldn’t help but get curious to see how he’d react to the myth about the rabbits on the moon…”

He chuckled again, the sound fond and exasperated all at once. “He told me it was impossible for rabbits to live on the moon. So I did my research—learned all kinds of fascinating things about them. I really wanted to convince him, make the myth feel real somehow… but he shut me down completely.”

Gen gave the man a sympathetic pat on the back. “So he’s not a fan of fairytales and myths, huh?”

“Not unless they’re backed by facts,” the man sighed, his voice light but tinged with affection. “He’s always been like that—grounded, logical. You could give him a shooting star, and he’d want to analyze the trajectory before making a wish.”

Gen couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu.

“That sounds like someone I know…” he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

The air shifted around the man—gentle, but unmistakable. He turned slightly to face Gen. Though the sunlight still veiled his features, Gen knew—he could feel it—that the man was smiling. A soft, knowing smile. The kind that suggested he understood something Gen hadn’t figured out yet.

“Is that so…” the man said quietly, voice calm and amused.

Before Gen could respond, a sudden rustling sounded to his left. The two kits immediately perked up, ears twitching and alert. They scampered toward the sound without hesitation, vanishing into a patch of tall grass and blooms.

A faint sense of dread prickled beneath Gen’s skin. He moved instinctively, making to rise.

But before he could stand, a hand shot out gently and caught his arm.

“It’s okay,” the man said reassuringly, his grip firm but kind. “Like I said—curious little kits. They won’t wander far. Try whistling at them to get their attention.”

His voice was warm and steady, laced with a quiet confidence that made Gen’s tension melt away.

“Like this,” the man demonstrated, letting out a soft, low whistle—a short melody, calm and soothing.

Almost immediately, the two kits poked their heads out from the flowers. Their ears twitched, and they turned toward the sound, bounding back in slow hops, as if they’d never left at all.

The two watched as the kits circled around Gen before stopping right in front of him. The snowy white one pounced playfully on the mottled black-and-white, and Gen let out a soft chuckle as they tumbled together in the grass.

“You know,” the man said fondly, “you’re like the moon. You draw these little rabbits in.”

Gen tilted his head, smiling as he kept his eyes on the kits. “How so?”

“Well, for one…” The man trailed off, gesturing loosely in Gen’s direction. “You’re glowing.”

Gen raised a brow, confused. “Huh? What do you mean—”

He looked down at himself and froze.

He was glowing. A soft, pale light radiated from his skin—gentle and warm, like moonlight wrapped around his body.

“Am I—am I on fire?!” Gen squeaked, patting down his chest and arms in alarm. “What’s going on?!”

The man burst into laughter, throwing his head back as he clutched his stomach. He was laughing hard, shoulders shaking with delight.

“It’s not unny-fay!” Gen whined, tripping over his words as he scrambled to dim his own light with both hands. “Stop laughing—this feels serious!”

Suddenly, a loud smack echoed through the field, followed by a pained “Ow!”

Gen turned to his right and saw the man now rubbing the back of his head—and standing beside him was a woman.

“Stop that,” she scolded, hands on her hips. “You’re scaring the poor boy. He doesn’t know yet.”

Judging by the way she stood close to the man—how naturally they fit together—Gen guessed they were a couple. She turned her attention to him and immediately squealed in delight.

“Aww, you’re just too cute!” she gushed. “Sorry about—uh…” Her voice garbled suddenly, the man’s name muffled, censored like static on a broken radio. “He just likes to tease and joke around. Always has.”

Just like with the man, Gen still couldn’t get a clear look at her face. It was soft and glowing, but hazy—like trying to see someone through a fogged-up mirror. And no matter how hard he focused, her voice continued to flicker with static whenever she said the man’s name.

It was like the dream was protecting something.

Or perhaps… not ready to reveal it.

“I’m… orry-say, but who?” Gen tilted his head, watching the two adults with curiosity. The two kits had clambered back onto his lap, and he helped them settle as he spoke. “I didn’t quite catch your names… well, any names.”

“Huh?” the woman glanced down at the man beside her. “You haven’t introduced yourself to him yet?”

The man rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… I sort of got distracted.”

The woman let out a huff and stepped around him, coming to sit directly in front of Gen. Though he still couldn’t make out her face, Gen could feel her smiling.

“I’m—”

Her voice crackled again, muffled and distorted, the name lost to dream-static. She gestured toward the man. “And this is my partner, ——. You might’ve heard of us.”

Once more, the words blurred. Gen blinked, but smiled politely, masking his confusion. “Oh… nice to meet you? I’m Gen. Asagiri Gen—”

“We know,” they said in unison.

“Really?” Gen blinked, then shook his head lightly. “Wait, this might sound odd, but… whenever you say your names, I can’t hear them. It’s like someone’s muting you.”

At that, the couple exchanged a long glance—something unspoken passing between them.

“Okay,” the woman said after a beat, her tone playful. “How about you call me… Lily?”

“Lily-chan,” Gen repeated, testing the name.

She lit up with delight. “Yes! Perfect.”

Gen turned to the man, expectant.

The man stroked his chin dramatically, pretending to think hard. “Hmm… seems like we’re going with flowers, huh? Then call me… mmm… ah! Orchid!”

“Orchid-chan?” Gen echoed, smiling.

“Or Ran in Japanese,” the man added with a chuckle. “Or both. Up to you.”

“Ran-chan…” Gen murmured, nodding slowly. “Alright. It’s nice to meet you both—Lily-chan and Ran-chan.”

The kits in his lap nuzzled close, and a quiet breeze passed through the field, scattering petals into the sky.

“It’s nice meeting you too,” Ran replied with a warm smile in his voice.

"Yes, yes!” Lily chimed in, her joy like a burst of sunlight.

Gen’s attention drifted as he felt tiny movements on his lap. He looked down to find the kits wriggling gently, one curling closer to his belly while the other nudged his hand, seeking warmth.

Lily and Ran slipped into a hush of conversation nearby, their voices low and quiet. Gen didn’t mind—he tuned them out, focused entirely on the little lives pressed close to him.

“So you’re saying he doesn’t know?” Ran whispered, just under the wind.

“Not yet,” Lily murmured, stealing a glance at the bi-colored omega seated in the grass. “Not fully.”

“Then that means that—” Ran hummed thoughtfully, “—also doesn’t know yet.”

Somewhere in the distance, a lullaby floated through the air. No words—just sound. It wrapped around Gen like a warm blanket, and the breeze picked up, scattering petals across the sky in lazy spirals. The kits nestled deeper into his lap, as if they, too, were listening.

Gen’s gaze lingered on them—like a moth to flame, like gravity to the moon. He was completely mesmerized.

This feels so surreal… he thought. But it feels so… right.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the light began to shift. The trees shimmered, dissolving into golden mist. The grass blurred, and the sky brightened until it washed everything out in a soft, glowing haze.

The kits blinked up at him one last time before the color of the world began to wash away.

Panic bloomed in Gen’s chest.

No.

Gen’s heart clenched.

He felt the change. The dream was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Lily and Ran noticed instantly.

“Looks like he’s—” Lily’s voice began to distort, muffled by the unraveling dream.

Yeah,” Ran agreed softly. He placed a hand on Gen’s back, grounding him. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

Gen looked between him and the kits, a worried crease forming on his brow.

“Here.” Ran carefully gathered the little ones in his arms. “I’ll watch over them. They’ll be safe.”

“Wait—” Gen choked, reaching out blindly as his vision blurred. He couldn’t bear to be separated. His fingers grasped at air.

“Shhh,” Ran whispered gently. “They’re not going anywhere. They’ll be here when you come back.”

He leaned in close, voice wrapping around Gen like the dream itself.

“They’re with you.”

Chapter Text

September 10th, 5741 AD

Gen let out a low groan as he slowly shifted upright into a seated position. Eyes still shut, he brought a hand up to his pounding head. When he finally opened them, the room swam slightly in his vision. He blinked, dazed and confused, glancing around.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been asleep. It didn’t matter. Even after the nap he’d been yearning for, Gen only felt more drained—bone-deep exhaustion clinging to him like fog.

And that dream.

The details were slipping from his mind like water through cupped hands, but the feelings lingered. His heart beat a little too fast, and a strange fluttering curled low in his stomach, warm and weightless.

Rabbits. Whistling. A field of flowers…

His hand lowered from his head to rest on his lap. A faint ache pulsed behind his ribs, and he couldn’t tell if it was emotional or physical.

Gen sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the gentle lull of the waves outside and the soft creak of footsteps in the hallway beyond the door. The ache in his head finally began to fade, and he exhaled a slow breath, steadying himself before rising to his feet.

Whatever that dream was… I felt happy. I felt at peace, he thought, eyes drifting to the folded clothes resting neatly on the bedside table. At least… until the end.

He reached for the yukata first, slipping his arms into the sleeves and tying the sash at the side with practiced ease. Next came the obi, wrapped carefully around his midsection and secured with a thin cord. Finally, he pulled on his overcoat, brushing his fingers lightly over the fabric as he adjusted it into place.

Another breath. Then he turned toward the door.

Time to return to reality.

Gen stretched his arms with a light groan, rolling his shoulders before a sudden crash outside his room caught his attention. A muffled voice followed—rushed and apologetic.

Curiosity got the better of him.

He crossed the room, grabbing the map Senku had left on the desk and tucking it neatly into the inner pocket of his coat before making his way to the door. A soft click echoed as he closed it behind him.

“—So sorry, Francois!”

In the hallway stood a tall, timid-looking alpha, clearly flustered, with a distinctive X-shaped scar on the top of his head. Gen recognized him immediately—he was one of the villagers from Ishigami Village. They’d spoken a few times, just in passing. He wasn’t like most alphas—no puffed-up ego, no boasting. He carried himself gently, humbly.

The strange part? He had no name.

Literally. The man simply went by “no name.”

Of course, Gen couldn’t stand the idea of addressing someone as “no name,” so he came up with a nickname instead.

Francois, ever composed, gave a small shake of their head and adjusted the box in their arms with effortless grace. “Your apology is appreciated but unnecessary. It was an accident on both sides. There’s no need to fret, sir.”

“What’s going on here?” Gen asked, voice light with amusement as he approached. “Francois-chan…” His eyes flicked over to the nervous alpha. “Nene-chan?”

Yes—Nene. That was the name Gen chose for him.

For two reasons. One, the kanji for nene could be interpreted as “tranquility,” “peace,” and “gentleness”—all traits that suited the man perfectly. And two… well, “no name” had two N’s. It practically wrote itself.

Nene quickly gathered the scattered items—an assortment of vegetables and fruits—and carefully placed them back into the box Francois was carrying. “I-I got lost… The ship is so huge, and I thought I could find my way on my own, but… well, clearly I was wrong.”

“We crossed paths as I was making my way to the dining hall,” Francois explained with calm efficiency, their tone as composed as ever. “I was on my way to begin preparations for lunch.”

“I mean, I did take classes on reading and writing,” Nene added, his fingers fiddling with the corner of his pants. He pointed toward the sign that read Sleeping Quarters. “But I still get a little confused sometimes.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Francois said reassuringly, turning with practiced ease. “I can guide you out, if you’d like. The dining hall is just ahead, and there’s a door that leads out onto the deck.”

They stepped past the alpha before pausing next to Gen. Francois turned their head slightly, voice pitched softer in deference. “I hope we didn’t disturb your rest, Master Gen. Master Senku informed us that you were napping, as you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.”

“It’s fine, Francois-chan. I was already up before you two got here,” Gen assured with a smile.

“Would you like me to guide you to the deck as well?” Francois offered politely.

“Senku-chan gave me a map and—” Gen was cut off by the rumble of his stomach. He let out a sheepish chuckle. “On second thought, I think I’ll follow you to the dining hall… if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nonsense,” Francois replied smoothly, shaking their head with a calm grace. “I’ve noticed this morning that you didn’t finish your breakfast. It would be no trouble at all to prepare a meal for you.” Their tone dipped into gentle concern. “May I ask—was the food not to your liking? I accept criticism readily if it will help me improve the next meal to your utmost satisfaction.”

Gen’s eyes widened. “No, no! Breakfast was solutely-abay delicious!” he said quickly, waving his hands in the air. “It was just the nerves—I couldn’t stomach all of it.”

Francois smiled in relief, reassured that they hadn’t prepared anything that upset Gen’s palate. “Well then, please follow me. Do you have something in mind you’d like me to prepare, Master Gen? And would you like to eat as well—?”

They began to walk ahead, and Gen and Nene fell into step behind them.

“Please don’t worry about me, Francois,” Nene said gently. “I’m fine—I’d much rather you focus on Gen.”

Gen raised a brow at that, clearly confused as to why he should be the center of focus. The alpha noticed and quickly offered an explanation.

“You’re the chief’s mate. You’re top priority—it’s a given. Well, at least for us at Ishigami Village.”

“Oh,” Gen blinked, letting out a small sound of realization. He cleared his throat. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Nene-chan! For us modern-timers, we couldn’t care less about that kind of thing…”

A pause.

Well… maybe people with the same status as Ryusui would, Gen mused privately.

Gen turned to Francois, finally addressing the question from earlier. “About your question—something simple and easy… Oh!” His eyes lit up as a familiar scent drifted through the air, tugging at a memory. “Yakisoba noodles…” Gen’s mouth practically watered at the thought. “I’d really love to eat that…”

He trailed off, lost in the haze of nostalgia, remembering moments from the past—laughter over steaming bowls, the sizzle of noodles on a hot pan, late-night cravings satisfied in dimly lit kitchens.

“Yaki-oba noodles?” Nene repeated, tilting his head as he turned to Francois. “Is that like ramen?”

Francois glanced over their shoulder, eyes settling on Gen for a brief moment. Their expression turned contemplative, calculating—but only for a second—before they looked ahead again and smoothly made a turn down the corridor.

“Not quite,” Francois began, voice calm and instructive. “While both are noodle dishes, yakisoba is stir-fried and typically uses wheat-based noodles more similar to those in Chinese cuisine. It’s flavored with a sweet and savory sauce and often includes vegetables and meat. Ramen, on the other hand, is served in a broth and has a different seasoning profile altogether.”

“Ahem,” Gen cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed at how deeply he’d slipped into his thoughts. “Both dishes are delicious.”

Finally, they arrived at the dining hall. Nene stepped forward to open the door, holding it politely for Gen and Francois before following them inside.

Gen’s mouth parted slightly in awe at the sight.

It was spacious—larger than he expected, with tables and benches arranged neatly to accommodate the ship’s full crew. The layout was efficient but inviting, every piece of furniture secured yet thoughtfully placed. Up ahead, a large kitchen window offered a clear view into the heart of the kitchen, and just beside it stood a swinging door leading into the workspace beyond.

A long, waist-high counter stretched out before the kitchen window, reminding Gen of a cozy diner he once visited during his early years in America—back when he was just beginning to kick-start his magician career. The memory made his smile tug a little wider.

The scent of spices, broth, and something sizzling on a hot surface drifted through the air. It was warm. Lived in. Comforting.

Gen made his way to the counter and slid onto one of the stools. The alpha beside him followed shortly after, settling in the seat next to his. Francois, with practiced ease, disappeared through the kitchen door.

“It shouldn’t take too long to prepare,” Francois called from within. “Fortunately, I’d already gathered the necessary ingredients from the greenhouse.”

Ah, so that’s where Francois-chan had been earlier.

Gen reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the map Senku had given him. He unfolded it carefully and looked it over—an intricately detailed drawing of the ship, with every room labeled in Senku’s tidy handwriting. A smile tugged at Gen’s lips at the precision of it.

“I didn’t know there was a map,” Nene said, peering over curiously.

Gen chuckled. “Senku-chan gave it to me earlier so I could find my way to the comms room after my nap… Which, now that I think about it, I don’t even know how long I was asleep.”

“You slept for roughly three hours, Master Gen,” Francois answered from the kitchen with practiced attentiveness. “Master Senku should be finishing up his latest invention by now.”

“Three hours?” Gen blinked. “If it’s been that long and Senku-chan hasn’t come looking for me, then yeah… that checks out.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “Did he mention what it was this time, dear Francois-chan?”

“Tear gas,” Francois replied without missing a beat.

“For earl-ray?!” Gen choked on his own spit, eyes wide.

“To be more specific,” Francois added lightly, “he mentioned designing a tear gas launcher backpack.”

“Of course he did…” Gen dropped his head sideways against the counter with a dramatic sigh. “Leave it to my brilliant mate to make something equal parts genius and terrifying.”

Still, he wasn’t complaining.

That dangerous little glint of innovation in Senku’s eye? Yeah. He found that infuriatingly attractive.

“Do I even want to know?” the alpha asked cautiously.

In the background, the rhythmic sound of Francois chopping vegetables filled the space—most likely prepping the ingredients for Gen’s yakisoba noodles.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Gen said, swirling his fingers in the air vaguely. “But word of advice? Don’t breathe it in, and definitely don’t get it in your eyes. It’s errible-tay.”

The alpha nodded solemnly, clearly taking the warning to heart.

A quiet lull settled between them.

Gen could sense something weighing on the other’s mind—the way Nene fidgeted in his seat, the nervous glances, the soft inhale before stopping himself short.

“Um, Gen…” Nene finally broke the silence, voice hesitant. “There’s actually something I need to talk to you about.”

From the kitchen, the click of the stove igniting echoed faintly.

Gen glanced at him from the corner of his eye and let out a small sigh, already anticipating it. “I figured as much. So what is it, Nene-chan? Love troubles? Someone giving you a hard time? Having second thoughts about the expedition?”

“No! None of that,” Nene shook his head quickly, flustered. He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s about me—about my origins.”

That got Gen’s full attention.

He straightened up and turned his head to face him properly. The alpha paused under the weight of his gaze, but Gen gave him a small nod of encouragement to continue.

“I’m… not really from Ishigami Village,” Nene said at last, eyes lowering to the table. “I mean, I was raised there, and I’ve lived there for twenty years but I wasn’t born there.”

Gen’s lips parted slightly in surprise.

From the kitchen, there was a subtle pause—just a fraction of a moment where Francois’s footsteps stilled before the sound of ingredients being poured into a hot pan took over. The sizzle filled the air like punctuation.

So that confirms it, Gen thought, his mind already connecting the dots. Treasure Island is inhabited.

The pieces were falling into place faster than he could process them. The people who created Ishigami Village… they must’ve come from there. They sailed from the island to the mainland—most likely encouraged by the 100 tales.

Gen’s gaze lingered on Nene for a moment longer, a quiet sort of awe in his expression. There was more to the timid alpha than met the eye.

“I often had dreams while growing up. They were about another tribe,” the man began, his voice soft with memory. “I tried to set sail multiple times, but the weather always forced me to turn back. The only things I have to prove those dreams might actually be vague memories are this shield… and my name.”

He glanced over his shoulder, toward the shield strapped to his back.

Gen tilted his head slightly. “What’s your name?”

“Soyuz,” he replied with a small smile. “At least… that’s what I went by when I was a baby.”

“Soyuz-chan…” Gen echoed, tasting the name. His eyes widened slightly with recognition. “Like the spaceship…”

“I was just as surprised as you when I found out the treasure box’s true name was Soyuz—like the spaceship,” Soyuz said with a quiet nod of understanding.

“These dreams—no, memories—you recall… you remembered them from when you were a baby?” Gen asked, bringing a thoughtful hand under his chin. “You might have eidetic memory, also known as photographic memory, Soyuz-chan. It means you’ve got a etty-pray good memory—like Senku-chan.”

“That makes sense.” Soyuz furrowed his brow. “I remember… when I washed up on the shore as a baby. And before that, we were running. Fleeing from something. Someone…” He rubbed his head, grimacing. “Lately, as we sail closer to the island, I’ve been getting these intense headaches. It’s like the nearer we get, the clearer the memories become.”

Dreams and memories… Gen hummed to himself, his thoughts drifting to the haze of his own dream from earlier. It felt important, like something he needed to remember—but the details were still elusive, fuzzy at the edges. The rabbits… the flowers… the whistling.

That stood out the most.

A conversation, he thought suddenly. There was someone in that dream. Someone I talked to.

When that realization hit, something inside him stirred—like puzzle pieces clicking into place.

How did that whistle go again…?

“I’ve been wanting to bring it up to Senku, but I just wasn’t sure how… I mean, he looked pretty busy.” Soyuz let out a sigh. “So… would you be able to help, Gen?”

At the mention of his name, the omega snapped out of his thoughts and nodded on instinct. “Yes, yes~ We’ll head to the comms room after I finish eating—if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Of course! No pressure at all, please, enjoy your meal,” Soyuz stammered, visibly relieved.

“This certainly turned into an unexpected series of events,” Francois remarked as they stepped out of the kitchen, carrying two plates of yakisoba noodles. “To think there’s a possibility we may encounter inhabitants on the island within a few hours… Master Senku is wise to prepare in advance, in case they prove hostile.”

Gen’s mouth watered the moment the scent hit his nose. His eyes locked onto the plate as Francois placed it in front of him and handed him the utensils.

“Be careful, Master Gen—it’s still quite hot. But it’s ready for you to enjoy.”

Francois then turned to Soyuz and set down the second plate in front of him. “It’s great to finally know your name, Master Soyuz. I took the liberty of preparing a plate for you as well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you as always, Francois-chan. We’re lucky to have you…” Gen said warmly, offering a smile before lifting a generous portion of noodles to his mouth. He blew on them gently, then took a bite.

Almost instantly, the rich flavors and spices bloomed across his tongue, and he let out a hum of pure delight, eyes fluttering shut. For a brief moment, it was like all his stress melted away into the dish.

Watching the omega’s expression shift from tired to blissful, Soyuz eagerly followed suit. He took a bite and lit up with amazement. “Wow! You modern people never fail to amaze me. This is so good!”

“I know, right?” Gen groaned in disbelief. “There’s just something about Francois-chan’s cooking—it could move a person to tears.”

Francois smiled with modest pride, disappearing momentarily into the kitchen. They returned with two cups of infused water and placed them in front of Gen and Soyuz. “Please drink this. It’s cucumber and mint—refreshing and hydrating.”

Gen took a sip without hesitation, the cool mint instantly soothing, the cucumber crisp and clean. He sighed in relief, visibly relaxed.

Francois’s sharp gaze lingered—not out of concern, but curiosity. They watched how Gen cupped the glass gently, how his appetite hadn’t waned since breakfast, how there was a subtle roundness to his cheeks that hadn’t been there weeks ago.

“Master Gen…” Francois began, carefully.

Gen looked up, blinking as he tilted his head, that usual sparkle in his eyes. Soyuz paused mid-bite, also glancing over.

“It’s important to stay hydrated every day,” Francois said mildly, their tone as soft as their smile. “If you ever tire of plain water, I’d be more than happy to prepare any infusion you’d prefer. There are many options—fruits, herbs, vegetables, even floral blends.”

Gen beamed. “Thank you, Francois-chan. You’re as thoughtful as ever~”

Francois offered a nod but their mind turned quietly, piecing together the signs. While the change in Gen’s scent after his bond with Senku had been expected—a warm, stabilizing shift—it was the trace of something else that stood out. A subtle, saccharine undertone that lingered in the air, almost like honey left out under sunlight.

They’d noticed the increased appetite. The way Gen gravitated toward hearty, comforting foods. The soft glow in his skin and the slight fullness in his face—all telltale signs of a happy, nurtured omega. But to Francois’s discerning eye, they were also early symptoms of something else.

A pregnancy, perhaps. Still too early to say aloud—but Francois would be vigilant.

Because if it were true, then both Gen and Senku would need careful, tailored support. And Francois, ever the quiet guardian of their well-being, would be ready to aid them.

Whatever awaited them on that island—be it hostile enemies or wild animals—Francois would act accordingly, prepared for every possibility.

“Oh! Before I forget—” Gen suddenly perked up, grinning with a spark of excitement. “A thought just occurred to me!”

Francois turned to him attentively as Gen continued, clearly giddy about something.

“Lately I’ve been snacking… a lot. I’m not sure why, but I’d be ever so ateful-gray if you could prepare me a bag of trail mix. Something small that could fit in my inner coat pockets~”

He paused, one hand thoughtfully resting under his chin. “Now that I think about it… why haven’t we brought back potato chips yet? I know the villagers would go absolutely azy-cray for the flavored ones!”

Francois’s lips curved into a warm smile, and they nodded. “I’ll have a pouch of trail mix ready for you shortly.”

Gen lit up with delight, but then quickly stood up and let out a sheepish laugh, smiling apologetically. “Ah—sorry, Francois-chan. Lately I feel like I’ve been asking too much of you… If you ever need help in the kitchen, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”

Francois gave a small, amused bow. “You are never a bother, Master Gen. Your requests are noted and always welcome. But if you insist, I will be sure to call on you if extra hands are needed.”

As Gen settled back into his seat, his appetite still strong, he eagerly returned to finishing his meal.

By the time he cleared his plate, he felt full and satisfied. The refreshing drink had done wonders—he was no longer weighed down by exhaustion. With rest behind him and warmth in his belly, a renewed sense of energy buzzed gently beneath his skin.

“It seems like I’m thanking you quite often, Francois-chan,” Gen said with a soft chuckle as he dabbed at his lips with a cloth. “But nonetheless—thank you for the meal, my dear~”

“Yes, thank you so much!” Soyuz exclaimed, following the omega’s lead as he stood from his seat. Gen reached for his dishes, but Francois stepped in swiftly.

“I’ll take it from here,” they said gently. “You two should head over to the comms room.”

Francois gestured to the far-right door. “That will lead you out onto the deck. The comms room isn’t too far from there.”

With quick farewells, the two took their leave. The alpha held the door open for the omega, and Francois quietly watched them disappear from sight.

Their expression remained composed, but their thoughts lingered.

It seems Master Gen is unaware…

_________

Senku rolled out his right shoulder, then let both arms fall loosely to his sides. Between room assignments, dividing the ship duties among the crew, and finishing the prototype for his tear gas backpack launcher, the morning had stretched longer than expected.

Frankly, he blamed Ryusui.

The blonde alpha had insisted on handling the crew list himself, withholding it from Senku under the pretense of “strategic command,” which only served to waste time and slow coordination.

Chrome and Kaseki had been eager to field-test the launcher, practically vibrating with anticipation. But Senku shot down the idea immediately, pointing out—very clearly—the potential risks involved. Both betas walked away visibly dejected, though he did promise to show them how it functioned later.

Now, it was around 11:35 a.m.—just nearing lunchtime—and their ship was steadily approaching the shores of Treasure Island.

Senku leaned against the console in the comms room, arms crossed as he waited.

Gen was supposed to meet him here. They’d promised.

Even if Senku could guess what had delayed the omega—likely a stray conversation or something only Gen could smooth over—he still found himself glancing at the hallway more often than he’d like to admit.

Any minute now.

Ryusui stood near the helm, hands loosely tucked behind his back, gazing through the wide glass window and out onto the endless stretch of sea. Beside him, Ukyo sat at the sonar station, one side of his headphones lifted just off his left ear as he monitored the screen for any unusual blips. The two worked in comfortable silence, their movements in sync, the air between them easy—familiar.

Their casual conversation drifted through the room like a calm breeze.

Ryusui glanced down at his mate, a fond glint in his eyes. “What’s your favorite aquatic animal, my love?” he asked with a lilt of curiosity, like he already had an answer tucked behind his smile.

Ukyo hummed thoughtfully before replying, “Narwhals. They’re like the aquatic version of a unicorn.” He looked up and added his own question, “What about you, Ryusui?”

Ryusui laughed, not missing a beat. “Blue whales,” he said. “The sounds they make are quite beautiful.”

“Mhm, that’s true,” Ukyo agreed, smiling. “Sometimes, when I was off duty and on land, I’d listen to whale sounds on YouTube to help me sleep.”

The air around them turned a little… sappy. Not in an overwhelming way, just enough for it to be obvious. Even without looking up, Senku could feel it. The shift in the air, the subtle tenderness lacing their voices.

Senku let out a quiet sigh from where he stood near the comms console.

Off to the side, Chrome and Taiju were locked in a heated (but friendly) debate over what they might find on Treasure Island—buried diamonds, another record from the past, maybe even some wild beasts. Their excitement was infectious, drawing Kohaku in with her usual dry logic to keep their theories grounded in reality.

“I can hear your broody demeanor from here, Senku,” Ukyo called out without even turning.

“He just misses Gen!” Taiju added cheerfully, grinning as he leaned over to nudge Chrome.

“Hah! You’re like a different person when it comes to Gen,” Kohaku teased, arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I’d say you’re even worse now that you’re bonded. Honestly, it’s kinda cute.”

“It’s only natural for a man to miss his other half,” Ryusui added dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in a show of theatrical sympathy.

Senku didn’t dignify any of it with a response but the slight twitch of his brow said enough.

Chrome leaned against the wall and raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you just go look for him, Senku? Instead of standing here waiting?”

Senku turned around, fully prepared to fire off some dry remark to shut them all up—

—but the quiet hiss of the comms room door opening cut him off.

A soft giggle drifted in, followed by an unmistakable, “Thank you~”

Senku’s mouth shut with a click.

His head snapped toward the sound on instinct. That voice was seared into his brain, familiar in every tone and inflection. His mate.

And sure enough, there stood Gen, stepping in through the door with a polite smile gracing his lips. The sweet scent of his omega—uniquely Gen—immediately wrapped around Senku like a comfort blanket.

But then—

Another scent. Strong. Sharper. Unfamiliar.

And behind Gen?

A tall alpha.

Holding the door open.

Senku’s gaze narrowed, his scientist brain short-circuiting as his nose flared slightly to catch the scent again. The alpha didn’t seem threatening—if anything, he looked a little nervous—but that wasn’t the point.

Senku’s mind slammed on the brakes.

Who the hell is that guy?

No, seriously—he couldn’t for the life of him remember his name. He knew the face vaguely. He was from Ishigami Village, right? Didn’t stand out much, but that X-shaped scar on top of his head was hard to miss… wait, wait…

Gen mumbled something to the timid alpha—something low and reassuring. Senku managed to catch just a bit: “Leave it up to me~.” The alpha nodded in response and smiled, soft and warm like Gen had just given him the moon.

Senku’s brows furrowed.

Then Gen finally turned, and the moment his eyes landed on Senku, his face lit up.

Senku felt it. That twinge in his chest. The warm flutter of happiness at seeing Gen’s smile directed at him.

…Still, that alpha’s proximity was seriously bugging him.

“Senku-chan!” Gen chirped as he strode in, the literal sunshine incarnate. “Orry-say~ Looks like that two-hour nap turned into three… and I might’ve gotten sidetracked by my stomach~”

Senku didn’t answer right away. His brain was still busy drawing lines between all the wrong dots.

Gen perked up again and gestured to the alpha standing beside him. “There’s actually something we need to tell you. It’s uper-say important.”

The alpha—Senku still didn’t know his name—fidgeted under the weight of his crimson stare.

Senku’s eyes flicked between them.

To the unknown alpha.

Then to Gen.

Then back again.

His jaw ticked.

His brain offered only static. He didn’t like their proximity. It bothered him.

Senku knew the timid alpha posed no real threat—but there was an itch. Something in his instincts that bristled. An alpha’s unease.

That scent. The way the guy hovered near Gen.

Gen’s soft laugh from earlier.

Oh, hell no.

Soyuz let out a startled yelp and ducked behind Gen, as if the omega could shield him from whatever invisible tension now filled the air.

Gen glanced over his shoulder, confused. “Soyuz-chan? What’s wrong?”

“Um… I think it’s a bad time. We, uh… interrupted something..!” Soyuz whispered, shrinking further as he avoided the piercing crimson gaze pinned on him.

Gen blinked, still puzzled. “Senku-chan won’t mind. Besides, this is important. They need to hear what you have to say.”

He turned toward the alpha fully, placing a gentle, steady hand on Soyuz’s arm. His voice softened. “If you’re nervous about revealing the truth, don’t be. They’re kind. You don’t have to be afraid, Soyuz-chan.”

Soyuz looked into Gen’s eyes and visibly relaxed. That look… it was familiar. Warm, patient, and unwavering. Somewhere deep in his memories, someone important had once looked at him just like that.

Senku watched the whole thing.

Every word. Every movement.

That hand on Soyuz’s arm. That voice. That look.

Senku’s arms crossed tight over his chest. His jaw clenched. His crimson eyes narrowed, tracking Gen’s every motion—then flicking back to the tall alpha hovering just a little too close for comfort.

He wasn’t mad.

But the itch in his instincts told him this: that’s mine.

And the way the guy looked at Gen, the way Gen looked back—even if it was just kindness, just comfort, Senku didn’t like it.

Not one damn bit.

A sharp smack echoed through the comms room, cutting through the mounting tension like a blade.

Gen whipped his head toward the sound—eyes wide—just in time to see Senku slightly hunched forward, hand rubbing the back of his head. Standing behind him, Ryusui looked down at his palm with an infuriatingly pleased smile.

Taiju let out an awkward chuckle from the side, half-stepping forward like he was prepared to break up whatever was about to unfold. Kohaku’s eyes gleamed with mischief, her smirk curling like a cat’s.

Chrome grimaced, looking at his science partner with a pinched, you okay? kind of concern.

Ukyo had already turned around in his chair from the sonar station. His sharp eyes flicked from Senku to Gen then back to Senku, an amused glint in his gaze. “…You okay over there, Senku?”

“Ha-ha, sorry about that!” Ryusui’s voice boomed with faux innocence. “There was a fly buzzing around, and it landed on the back of your head. I saw the opportunity to kill it—so I did.”

Senku didn’t answer right away. He straightened, lifting his head slowly, red eyes sharp beneath the fall of his bangs.

He didn’t glare.

Not exactly.

He didn’t scowl.

But his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched a bit too tightly and for Ryusui, that said enough.

‘You and I both know that’s bullshit. Why the hell would you even do that?’

Ryusui met his gaze evenly, the cocky edge softening just enough.

‘You looked five seconds away from obliterating that poor guy.’

Senku let out a sharp tsk, dropping his hand from the back of his head as his gaze returned—unmistakably—to Gen. His brow was still furrowed, a little storm cloud of grump clinging to him even as the omega approached with a worried look.

“That sounded like it really hurt, Senku-chan,” Gen murmured, lifting his hands as they hovered near Senku’s face—uncertain whether to touch just yet.

But the moment Gen’s palms cupped his cheeks, all that tension bled from Senku’s body in an instant. His shoulders dropped, his jaw unclenched, and his eyes softened as he leaned into the omega’s touch, drawn like gravity to the center of his world.

Gen gently turned his head this way and that, inspecting for damage—and then, his gaze flicked sharply toward Ryusui. His frown deepened. “That was completely uncalled for, Ryusui-chan. Couldn’t you have just flicked it away or something? With the force you used, I wouldn’t be surprised if you left a bruise on my poor Senku-chan’s head.”

Ryusui froze under the full weight of Gen’s glare. It wasn’t angry, per se—but it was disappointed. And disappointed Gen was worse.

The blonde alpha glanced toward Ukyo with a silent plea in his eyes. Ukyo merely shrugged from his chair, calm as a lake. ‘You got yourself into this mess, my love. I’m not saving you.’

Senku took the moment to pull Gen closer, sliding his arms around the omega’s waist and tucking his chin over his shoulder. The movement was smooth, automatic, grounding. He buried his nose into Gen’s neck and immediately began scenting him, wiping away the faint trace of that other alpha with quiet precision.

Gen blinked, surprised by the sudden affection but then his arms closed around Senku’s shoulders without hesitation. One hand lifted to gently run through Senku’s hair, soothing him in quiet circles, fingertips brushing over the sore spot with practiced care.

He smiled, all warmth and contentment. “There, there~”

Senku made a low, satisfied noise into the crook of his neck, and for the moment, all was well.

“Oh great, now you’ve got them being all affectionate right in front of us,” Chrome deadpanned, gesturing toward the pair with an unimpressed look aimed at Ryusui.

Kohaku didn’t miss a beat—smack! She struck the back of Chrome’s head with the same force she used in battle. “You wouldn’t understand the feeling. You don’t even have the guts to confess your undying love for my sister.”

“Ow—! That’s totally unrelated!” Chrome rubbed the back of his head, pouting.

“I wish I still had my smartphone to save this moment…” Taiju said wistfully, clenching a fist in regret “Back in the modern age, I barely used mine but now? It feels like I missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” One of these days, he was determined to convince Senku to make him a phone.

“I honestly think it’s adorable,” Ukyo said with a chuckle, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll make sure to apologize properly later,” Ryusui said with a dramatic sigh, hand resting on his hip. His gaze shifted back to the couple and then flicked to the tall, nameless alpha lingering awkwardly off to the side. “But for now, it seems like you two have something important to share?”

Senku didn’t respond right away. He kept his arms loosely around Gen’s waist, resting in the moment just a little longer before finally, reluctantly, allowing the omega to pull back.

Gen turned in his hold, still partially leaning into Senku as he nodded to the group. “That’s right. This might help us when we arrive at the island.”

He beckoned the alpha forward with a warm smile. “Go ahead and tell them what you told me.”

Soyuz stepped forward and finally opened his mouth.

He told them everything he could remember—how he wasn’t born in Ishigami Village, even though he’d been raised there his entire life. How, for as long as he could remember, he’d been haunted by dreams of another island. How, as a baby, he had been pursued—chased through the trees with a mysterious woman by his side, running from something. Or someone.

And how it all ended with him floating to the shores of Ishigami Village, cradled atop a large shield. That’s where his adoptive parents had found him.

Then, for the first time, he revealed his birth name: Soyuz.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Chrome’s brows shot up, his eyes wide. “Soyuz—as in the Soyuz spaceship? The treasure box we’re chasing? The whole reason we’re heading to the island?!”

“Yeah, and maybe I can take you there—to my home and the spaceship containing the treasure,” Soyuz nodded with a smile.

Both Taiju and Kohaku exchanged an excited look.

As Soyuz continued his story, Senku found himself at ease. Whatever tension he’d been feeling earlier had completely dissolved. Logically, he’d known Soyuz wasn’t a threat, but now, with confirmation, he couldn’t help the pleased smile tugging at his lips—especially with Gen standing quietly at his side.

Senku let out a chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you decided to tell us. I don’t know whether it’s good or bad news, but what I do know is that this new information is ten billion percent helpful—it confirms Treasure Island is, without a doubt, inhabitable.”

Chrome was left in awe, while Kohaku stared in shock at the revelation that there were others out there, people besides them.

“It would’ve been much easier if the island was deserted,” Ukyo murmured, rubbing his forehead as he stood near Gen. “Then we could explore freely while searching for the Soyuz.”

Gen looked over at him, clearly sharing the same thought. “I agree… but knowing Senku’s luck record—”

“The more the merrier!” Ryusui cut in with a grin.

“I just hope they’re friendly…” Gen mumbled. The omega knew there were multiple possible outcomes if they encountered any of the villagers and the chances of them being welcoming or hostile felt like a clean fifty-fifty.

“I’m against violence and all, but…” Ukyo trailed off, tipping his hat downward. “…I won’t hesitate to act if necessary.”

A full-body shiver ran down Gen’s spine—maybe from fear, maybe from excitement. He was well aware of how terrifyingly accurate Ukyo’s aim was. “Then I’ll make sure to stay close to you, my dear Ukyo-chan.”

Ryusui let out a low, pleased rumble from his chest. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his mate’s head, hat and all. “I’m sure it won’t come to that but if it does, I want a front row seat to see you in action, my love.”

Senku scoffed lightly and slung an arm around Gen’s shoulder, steering him away from the couple and toward his other side. “Before that, we’ve got our mentalist here to charm the hell out of the villagers with those silver-tongue skills of his. And if all else fails… I’ve got a brand new invention I’ve been dying to test out.”

“That’s baaad!” Chrome grinned. “I can’t wait to see what it does!”

“Oh yes, the tear gas…” Gen said with an amused smile as he turned to Senku. “Francois-chan told me about it. You’re always two steps ahead of everyone else.”

Senku puffed out his chest proudly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s only natural for someone like me to plan ahead.”

Gen giggled and gave his chest a playful push, to which Senku responded with a snicker of his own, sliding a hand onto the omega’s hip. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from my brilliant mate~”

Leaning in close, Senku murmured softly, “Oh yeah? Well, I for one can’t wait to see you use that silver tongue of yours…”

He lifted his free hand—the one not resting on Gen’s hip—and gently tilted Gen’s chin between his thumb and index finger. His thumb traced slowly across Gen’s lower lip.

Meanwhile, Chrome—still the only one of the five generals single and stuck as the fifth wheel—watched the two couples with exasperated fondness. He turned to his side and spotted Kohaku, who was happily chatting with her father. Chrome blinked, wondering when the man had even arrived.

Then the door to the comms room opened, and a worried voice called out.

“Yuzuriha! Let me help you!” Taiju rushed to his mate’s side without a moment’s hesitation.

Francois and Yuzuriha entered the room, carrying trays of food and drinks between them, but Chrome barely registered the arrival. He was too distracted by the unmistakable aura surrounding the three couples.

Letting out a small sigh, Chrome’s gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Soyuz.

At least he wasn’t the only single one here.

Yuzuriha offered a quiet thank you to her mate and greeted everyone with a warm smile. “We brought lunch!”

She and Francois set the food down on the table, where the map had been spread out. Kohaku quickly rolled the map up with care, stepping aside as Ukyo took it from her hands and set it aside for later.

Everyone gathered around the table, grabbing their own portions and digging in.

Senku looked up from his food in Gen’s direction, raising a brow when he felt the omega’s gaze on him. “You’re not going to eat?”

“I ate before I got here,” Gen replied with a smile, “but if you insist on letting me steal a bite or two, I won’t complain~!”

After everyone finished lunch, they stepped out onto the deck to get some fresh air—only to be met with the unfortunate sight of a few crew members sprawled out on the floor, victims of seasickness.

Gen immediately raised his sleeve to his nose as a sharp whiff of air hit him. A wave of nausea crept in, and he quickly turned away, hoping the change in direction would help.

Senku, ever prepared, wasted no time whipping up an anti-nausea medicine and distributed it to anyone who needed it.

Looking to escape both the scene and the smell, Gen suddenly remembered the promised ship tour. Seizing the opportunity, he turned to his mate. “How about that tour you mentioned earlier?”

“I’d like one too!” Yuzuriha chimed in eagerly.

Senku, clearly pleased, agreed and began the tour, pointing out each area as they passed: the greenhouse, the lab, the med bay, the dining hall, bathrooms and showers, a dedicated room for Yuzuriha and her crafting team, the storage areas, the engine rooms—and finally, the holding cells where Hyoga and Homura were kept.

Gen felt eyes on him from within the cells and already knew who it was.

“Well, isn’t this surprising,” Hyoga’s voice drawled from behind the bars. “You certainly look fuller than the last time I saw you… like a little chipmunk with its cheeks stuffed full of nuts.”

Gen grimaced, forcing a tight smile. “Hyoga-chan! Always a pleasure to hear your voice…”

Hyoga’s gaze flicked between Senku—who had stepped in front of his mate protectively—and Gen, whose practiced smile was beginning to falter. Yuzuriha’s lips pressed into a frown, while Nikki lingered just outside, standing guard for her shift.

“So it’s true. You and Senku-kun are mates…” Hyoga said, voice laced with amusement.

Senku raised an eyebrow, not liking the direction the alpha was taking. “What about it?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all…” Hyoga mused, tone casual. “Honestly, Tsukasa-kun should’ve seen it coming from miles away when he decided to send you to confirm whether Senku-kun was alive or dead.”

Gen’s lips curled downward, the urge to go on the defensive bubbling up. “Hyoga-chan—”

“Hmm… Something tells me we’re nearing your destination,” Hyoga interrupted, eyes gleaming with interest. “Perhaps… the island where your father and the other astronauts landed?” He let out a low chuckle. “Well, whatever it is doesn’t concern me. You, on the other hand…”

His sharp gaze landed squarely on Gen as his tone dropped, almost warning in nature. “Make sure you take care of yourself, Gen-kun.”

Whether it was a threat or a genuine warning, Senku didn’t like it. His crimson eyes narrowed, protective instincts flaring like a live wire. He stepped forward, a quiet intensity settling over him.

Yuzuriha, sensing the shift, acted quickly. She gently grasped Gen by the shoulders. “It’s getting stuffy in here. Let’s step out, Gen.”

“Huh? Wait—” Gen began, but the smaller omega guided him out with surprising strength.

Senku stayed behind, outwardly calm, though the low burn of anger lingered in his gaze. Hyoga noticed it immediately.

“Whatever game you’re playing,” Senku said quietly, “it won’t work. You can make your little threats to me—but to Gen? That’s a different story.”

The air thickened with tension, the subtle scent of Senku’s burning anger now unmistakable.

Hyoga let out a long sigh. “It’s not a threat… it’s a warning. Who knows what you’ll encounter out there.” His expression darkened. “Keep a close eye on your mate, Senku-kun.”

Senku let out a scoff. “Really? Sounds like an ominous threat to me.”

“Trust me,” Hyoga deadpanned, “you’d know if I were threatening you and your little family.” Then he leaned back, relaxing as if watching something mildly entertaining. “Besides, I’m intrigued to see how this all plays out.”

Senku’s brows drew together, though he kept any confusion from showing on his face. Family? The word echoed in his mind. Well… Gen and I being mates does technically make us one…

The ship creaked and moaned beneath them, the waves beginning to roll more violently beneath the hull. Senku felt the shift immediately. A change in pressure. A disturbance in rhythm. A storm was coming.

Loud shouts echoed from above deck.

Senku clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You’re as creepy as ever.”

Hyoga ignored the jab, his gaze drifting lazily toward the door Gen had been ushered through moments ago, before settling back on Senku with a spark of knowing amusement. “You should take better care of him, you know.”

Senku didn’t reply immediately. His stare sharpened, alpha instincts bristling at the insinuation. “And you’re saying I don’t?”

“It’s not like I’ve witnessed your relationship flourish—and god help me if I ever do,” Hyoga said with a visible cringe at the thought.

“Gen-kun just seems a little more delicate than usual, is all… looks like you’ve done quite the number on him, Senku-kun,” he added, his voice light and infuriatingly amused.

Senku’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening.

Hyoga let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled with private amusement—like he was enjoying a joke only he understood. “I’m only commenting on what I’ve observed just now, of course. It must be exhausting—keeping pace with someone like you. The body eventually catches up to the soul, doesn’t it?”

Senku knew the alpha was being cryptic, so he didn’t rise to the provocation. He remained wary—Hyoga always had a plan brewing, even if he masked it behind that calm, unsettling demeanor. Still, Senku would be ready when the time came. That, at least, he could be sure of.

Hyoga, for his part, noticed the subtle shift in Senku’s stance—the slight twitch of his fingers at his sides. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it told him enough.

Senku was bothered.

And that was more than enough to amuse the alpha.

A voice called Senku’s name from above, pulling his attention away. Without another word, he turned toward the door.

“Whatever you’re scheming,” he said over his shoulder, “I’ll be ready.”

Senku didn’t look back as he walked toward the door, posture steady and unshaken, even with Hyoga’s gaze burning into the back of his head.

Let him watch.

Whatever game Hyoga thought he was playing, Senku had no intention of letting it touch Gen—or anyone else under his protection.

From the cell beside him, Homura shifted, eyes narrowing. She’d watched the entire exchange with silent curiosity. Now, confusion crept into her voice.

“Hyoga-sama… what did you mean by—?”

But the door had already shut, cutting off whatever she was about to ask. On the other side, Senku offered Nikki a short nod and began making his way up to the deck, his mind already spinning with thoughts and calculations.

________

As Yuzuriha led Gen back toward the comms room, the rain began to fall suddenly and without warning. The ship rocked roughly against the waves, and a wave of dizziness swept over Gen. Both omegas gripped the railing tightly.

“Oh wow… traveling by boat is no joke,” Yuzuriha chuckled, trying to stay cheerful despite the sway.

“Ugh, I’m getting dizzier and more nauseous by the second…” Gen groaned, struggling as they stepped through the door that led onto the deck.

The rain came down hard, soaking them instantly. Both squinted against the downpour, raising their arms to shield their faces from the sudden burst of water.

Around them, crew members stumbled by, hurrying to their stations amid the growing storm.

Clinging to each other for balance, Gen and Yuzuriha made their way toward the comms room entrance.

“Thank you, Yuzuriha-chan,” Gen said once they were close, thinking back on earlier. “You didn’t have to do that… but I really appreciate it.”

Yuzuriha glanced up at the taller omega with a soft smile. “I know. But I could tell you were seconds away from chewing him out.”

“My range of vocabulary is… olorful-cay,” Gen joked, making her giggle. “I’m almost positive Hyoga-chan said all that just to provoke Senku-chan.”

Yuzuriha hummed as she reached for the door. “Senku wouldn’t lose his cool unless it was for a good reason. Besides, I think it’s adorable how quickly he comes to your rescue and defends your honor.”

Gen laughed at that and gave a dramatic little pout. “And I wanted to stay behind and see what Senku-chan would do~”

“Please,” Yuzuriha said with a teasing smile, “you and I both know you just wanted to see him get angry. Something tells me you’re into that.”

Gen let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over his heart before snickering. “Okay, okay, I won’t deny it—seeing that side of Senku-chan is… interesting~”

They stepped inside just as Francois approached with impeccable timing, handing each of them a clean towel. Both omegas thanked them gratefully, glad to be back in the warmth and out of the storm.

As Gen dried himself off, he felt the lingering stare of Francois and turned to meet their gaze. “Is something wrong—?”

“You’re pale,” the blonde beta noted softly. “Are you feeling alright, Master Gen?”

Gen blinked, caught off guard. “Oh? Am I?” He touched his cheek self-consciously. “It’s probably just the storm messing with me. I’m not used to traveling by boat—too much rocking and not enough land underfoot. It made me feel a little nauseous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Yuzuriha gave him a sympathetic look, remembering how unsteady they’d both been trying to make it back. But Francois’s expression remained composed, their eyes calmly assessing Gen’s condition. They didn’t press further, but turned toward the door, already deciding what to do.

“I’ll prepare you something,” Francois said without hesitation. “Ginger tea with a bit of honey, it should help soothe the nausea.”

“Oh, Francois-chan, you really don’t have to—” Gen began, but the beta was already moving with that elegant precision unique to them.

“I insist,” they replied smoothly. “Please sit tight and relax. I’ll be back soon.”

Before Gen could protest again, he watched Francois disappear behind the door.

Yuzuriha gave his back a comforting rub, offering him a soft smile. Gen sighed, letting his gaze wander—and it didn’t take long before it landed on the blonde alpha.

Ryusui sat at the table they had gathered around earlier, lounging comfortably as he sipped from a steaming cup. Next to him, Ukyo perched on the arm of his chair.

Ryusui set his drink down on a coaster and grinned like a fool at his mate, foam clinging to his upper lip in a frothy mustache. Ukyo laughed and, ever the playful partner, took a sip of his own drink and matched the look.

The two burst into laughter, the sound light and effortless.

Gen couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He was about to ask Ryusui how much longer until they reached the island but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt such a cute moment between the couple.

“Looks like it’s getting bad outside. It’s so gray and cloudy,” Yuzuriha commented as she glanced out the window—only to let out a sudden yelp as the ship tilted sharply to one side. Gen immediately reached out, steadying her by the arm.

“And windy,” he added, nodding toward the window. “Looks like Ginro-chan’s clinging to the railing for dear life.”

Sure enough, the blonde beta was gripping the ship’s edge, clearly shouting in panic—presumably at his brother, who stood beside him.

They both watched as Taiju moved in like a hero from a storybook, grabbing Ginro by the back of his shirt and effortlessly lifting him onto his shoulder like he weighed nothing at all. Yuzuriha let out a soft “Ooooh,” impressed by her mate’s strength.

“Taiju-chan has a heart of gold,” Gen said, smiling as he looked over at her.

Yuzuriha nodded, her expression fond. “Yes, he does…”

Just then, the comms room door opened with a rush of air and wet clothes, and Taiju entered, still carrying Ginro over his shoulder.

Ginro wailed dramatically as Taiju set him down, soaked and dripping.

“Taiju! You’re the best!” he sniffled, clearly overwhelmed.

Taiju let out a hearty laugh and clapped him on the back. “I’m always here to help!”

The door suddenly slammed open, and in came Senku—huffing and puffing, soaked from head to toe as he speed-walked to the center of the room, leaving a trail of water in his wake. Right behind him, Francois entered with impeccable timing, balancing a tray of teacups without so much as a wobble.

“This is the perfect time to use the storm to our advantage!” Senku declared, still catching his breath. “We don’t know who we’ll be dealing with—whether they’re friendly or hostile.”

Gen was at his side in an instant, towel in hand, reaching up to dry his mate off. Before he could get far, Francois appeared like magic and deftly swapped out the damp cloth for a fresh, dry one. Without a word, they turned and disappeared back into the room.

Gen blinked, mildly impressed, but shrugged and continued gently drying Senku’s hair—now heavy and limp, having lost its usual puff.

Senku murmured a soft “Thanks,” and reached up to brush Gen’s damp bangs back from his forehead, his touch brief but affectionate, before turning to address the room again.

Gen let out a quiet, fond scoff, his lips curling into a smile as he watched his alpha’s crimson eyes spark with determination.

“We’ll use this storm as cover to sail in undetected,” Senku continued, confidence rising with every word. “If we time it right, we’ll be able to see them without them seeing us—using the eye of science, of course—as we make our approach.”

He grinned, triumphant.

Gen stepped back, just as he wrapped the towel around Senku’s shoulders. Francois reappeared beside him, ever precise, and offered him the promised cup of tea. Gen accepted it with a grateful smile and a quiet thank-you.

Senku clapped his hands once. “Alright, I need all hands on deck. Everyone—get to your stations!”

As everyone cheered and moved to their stations, Gen took the moment to sip his ginger tea. The warmth spread through him instantly, soothing his throat and easing the tension in his stomach. He hummed in quiet satisfaction, the noise of the room fading as people exited one by one.

The tea helped, just a little.

We’re really almost there… Gen thought, his gaze drifting to the window. The island where Senku-chan’s father and the other astronauts landed… where they made their home.

It felt surreal.

From the corner of his eye, Gen glanced toward his mate. Senku stood with Ryusui, the two deep in discussion, their voices low and fast-paced—likely coordinating their next move.

On the surface, Senku looked excited, brimming with that characteristic fire, eyes sharp with focus and determination.

But Gen knew better.

Whether it was his skill at reading people or the bond they shared now as mates, Gen could sense the deeper mix of emotions beneath that confident front. Nervousness. Sadness. A trace of guilt.

He’s carrying a lot, Gen thought, cradling the warm cup between his hands. And he doesn’t want anyone to see it.

But Gen saw it. And that was enough.

Maybe when they finally find what they’ve been searching for—the platinum and the Soyuz spaceship—Gen will pull Senku aside for the long-awaited talk. He’ll create a quiet moment, just for the two of them. A space where his mate can finally spill what he’s kept buried for so long.

Because Gen knows a thing or two about bottling things up. He knows what it’s like to hold everything in until it’s right at the brim—ready to spill over.

Even before they had officially become a bonded pair, Gen had already made the decision to share Senku’s burdens. To ease his tension, to lift whatever weight he could from Senku’s shoulders. His role—one he chose willingly—was to be the calm in the storm. To be Senku’s home, his place of peace, his safe haven.

In the distance, they spotted a vague shape on the horizon—a dark blob against the gray curtain of rain. Most likely the island. The storm made visibility poor, but that worked in their favor; if they could barely see the island, it meant the islanders wouldn’t be able to see them, either. Very soon, they’d make landfall.

Gen didn’t know exactly what awaited them on the island. Whether welcome or war, warmth or suspicion. But whatever it was, he’d be ready. He’d sharpen every tool he had—his wit, his words, his instincts—and do whatever it took.

That was his promise. To Senku. To himself.

Ryusui had just announced the four-person scouting team: Senku, Soyuz, Kohaku—and Gen himself.

What Gen hadn’t expected was Francois nudging a pair of shoes toward him, their voice polite but firm as they said, “You’ll be wearing these while on the island.” They followed it up by handing him the pouch of trail mix he’d requested earlier that day.

Gen took it with a delighted smile and tucked it neatly into the inside of his overcoat.

Francois, ever thorough, had also prepared water bottles and sandwiches for the group, knowing full well they had no idea how long the scouting would take or what they might run into.

Just as the small team prepared to board the motorboat, Francois called out gently.

“Master Gen,” Francois spoke in a calm, soft voice as they regarded the omega. “Do make sure to keep yourself—and the rest—out of trouble. And please, don’t forget the importance of staying hydrated.”

“Yes, yes~” Gen smiled, his tone playful as he replied. “I’ll make sure to drink my fair share of water and I’ll keep these rascals from acting out.”

“The only rascal here is you, Gen,” Kohaku said flatly, shooting him an unimpressed look.

Senku chuckled as he reached over to ruffle Gen’s hair. “She’s not wrong. Now let’s get moving, mentalist.”

Gen pouted as he steered the motorboat toward shore, the sea mist brushing against his cheeks. Soyuz, sitting beside him, wore a thoughtful expression.

“Francois seems to be doting on you, Gen,” Soyuz mused aloud. “Did you do something?”

Gen hummed in question, then grinned. “Maybe I’m their favorite~ Looks like I’m replacing Ryusui-chan.”

“Hah! As if,” Kohaku scoffed, crossing her arms. “You probably just said some cunning words to them.”

“I did no such thing,” Gen said with mock offense. “I always compliment and appreciate Francois-chan! They can sense my sincerity—that’s why they like me~”

“Suspicious…” Kohaku narrowed her eyes as she studied Gen’s profile. “My instincts tell me it has something to do with you. I can’t quite pinpoint what, but I will find out.”

Gen let out a bright laugh, as if Kohaku had just made a joke. “Good luck, Kohaku-chan~ You’ll find nothing, because there’s nothing to find.”

“Maybe they just find Gen adorable?” Soyuz suggested gently, clearly trying not to provoke Senku despite the compliment. “Gen’s always happy when they eat Francois’s food.”

From beside Gen, Senku casually draped an arm behind his mate’s seat and glanced back over his shoulder. The alpha raised a brow, his voice cool and edged with dry amusement.

“Careful, Soyuz. If you think flattering my mate will earn you brownie points, think again. Say too much and you’ll find yourself assigned to hard labor for a week straight.”

Gen snorted, unable to tell if Senku was joking or serious. “Please, this is the most amest-tay form of flattery. Believe me, I’d know. Back when I was a celebrity, I received every type of compliment imaginable. Modern flattery would have our dear Soyuz-chan blushing.”

“I’m realistic,” Senku cut in, though his smirk betrayed how amused he was. The reminder of Gen’s former fame only made that smirk widen—after all, once they revived the rest of humanity, including Gen’s fans, Senku would have the last laugh. “You’re dangerous when you’re being charming, and you know it. One of these days, that silver tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble. Best I keep an eye on the collateral damage.”

Soyuz let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, while Kohaku rolled her eyes.

“You two have gotten so much worse,” she muttered, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her fondness. “You’re openly flirting with each other with no shame.”

The boat bobbed gently as they neared the shoreline, sunlight breaking through the clouds overhead and bathing the island in a golden glow.

“I see no problem whatsoever,” Senku said, scratching his ear with his pinky and grinning. “I already laid my claim and there’s no one who can stop me, anyway.”

Gen’s lips parted, his cheeks warming at his mate’s shameless declaration. The alpha’s possessiveness caught him off guard but in the best way. For a brief moment, Gen was overwhelmed with the urge to lean over and kiss him.

“What if someone rises and challenges you for Gen’s hand?” Kohaku asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “What will you do then?”

“I don’t think anyone would have the guts to do that…” Soyuz added nervously, thinking back on all of Senku’s ridiculous accomplishments. “Not when they’re up against him.”

“First of all, Gen’s my mate,” Senku replied flatly. “Secondly, there’s hardly a challenge when he’s already mine.” He blew on his pinky, unbothered. “But if anyone does try? I’ll know how to deal with them.”

Gen’s stomach fluttered. He could practically swoon. On any other day, he might have tackled Senku right there—kissed him senseless and rubbed his scent all over the smug alpha. But he forced himself to stay focused, especially with Kohaku watching.

“I’d like to see that~” Gen muttered under his breath, unable to stop the smile curling on his lips.

Finally, they reached the shoreline and brought the small boat in to dock. Soyuz jumped out first, tying it securely to a thick root protruding from the sand to ensure it wouldn’t drift away. Kohaku was next, landing in the shallows with a soft splash. She glanced up at the winding path leading uphill, her eyes narrowing with interest.

Senku followed, hopping down beside her before turning and holding out his hand. “Alright,” he said, helping his mate out of the boat, “let’s stay alert. We have no idea what kind of welcome we’re walking into.”

Gen muttered a soft “thank you” as his feet touched the damp shore.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be ready to eliminate them if they pose a threat.” Kohaku drew her daggers with a sharp smile, already striking a menacing pose.

“Okay, let’s not do that just yet,” Gen said, giving her a pointed look. “We question them first—find out everything we can about this island, its people, and most importantly, the Soyuz spaceship and any information about the petrification.”

With a reluctant sigh, Kohaku sheathed her blades and took the lead up the path.

Senku gently tugged Gen forward, and Soyuz followed close behind.

“Gen’s right—ten billion percent,” Senku added with a smirk. “We’ll squeeze every last drop of intel out of whoever we find. And if they run out, we’ll just move on to the next islander.”

He let go of Gen’s hand to reach for a rock, steadying himself. “Looks like it’ll be tricky to climb up. Watch your step and make sure what you’re grabbing onto isn’t loose.”

“What are you talking about? This is nothing!” Kohaku called over her shoulder, already bounding from ledge to ledge with inhuman ease until she reached the top.

“I’ll keep that in mind…” Gen muttered, staring doubtfully at the path ahead. Then he called out over his shoulder, “If I slip, please catch me, Soyuz-chan!”

“Huh? Y-Yeah, sure!” Soyuz blinked, a little startled, but nodded as he began to climb up after them.

Kohaku watched as the three climbed their way up the cliffside. Senku huffed, clearly out of breath. Pitying him, she reached down, grabbed his arm, and hauled him up with ease.

“I’m surprised Ukyo isn’t with us,” she said as Senku caught his footing. “I know I’ve got good eyesight, but his hearing would be a huge help too.”

Gen climbed up more carefully, planting his feet before pushing himself onto the flat ledge. Senku immediately reached out to steady him, guiding them both away from the cliff’s edge. Gen allowed himself to be led without protest, brushing some loose hair behind his ear.

“Something caught Ukyo-chan’s eye earlier,” Gen explained. “He’s still staring at the sonar display. There’s something on the seafloor that has his attention.”

“What do you think it could be?” Soyuz asked once he reached the top. The four of them began to trek into the dense forest, leaving the Perseus ship behind them.

“Could be a school of fish,” Senku replied, stepping over a tree root as they moved forward. “But they’ll investigate and let us know if it’s anything important.”

Kohaku raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun as she peered ahead. Her gaze caught on something in the brush, and she pointed. “There. Looks like some sort of path—well-traveled. Probably used by the islanders.”

Without waiting, Kohaku moved ahead. Senku blinked and hurried after her.

“Wait—don’t go charging off, lioness!” he called out, exasperated.

Gen trailed behind them at a more leisurely pace, with Soyuz not far behind. A few quiet minutes passed as they continued along the path. Soyuz glanced over his shoulder several times, as if checking the distance to the ship.

Above them, sunlight filtered through the thick canopy. The towering trees offered welcome shade from the heat, but the forest still carried the weight of the unknown—quiet, watchful, and wild.

“Is something the matter, Soyuz-chan?” Gen asked, tilting his head at the alpha’s worried expression. Just ahead, Kohaku and Senku had stopped—quiet voices slipping into a low bicker over something unseen.

Soyuz hesitated before shaking his head, then looked at Gen with sudden determination. “It’s just… shouldn’t the crew on the Perseus have contacted us by now?”

Gen brought a hand under his chin, his expression thoughtful. He glanced at the portable telephone strapped to Soyuz’s back. “You’re not wrong. Ukyo-chan or our dear Captain-chan usually checks in.”

Unhooking the speaker from the side of the radio box, Gen pressed it to his ear and listened. All he heard was the distorted crackle of static—no voices, no signal.

They’re either out of range… or too busy to answer, Gen thought, brows furrowing.

“Nothing,” he murmured, voice low.

Kohaku crossed her arms as she stood between Senku and Gen. She watched as their leader pulled out a telescope, wiped the lens, and brought it to his eye. The blonde beta shifted her gaze to Gen, who stood nearby, lips pressed together in thought.

“Is it not working?” she asked.

“Well, we could imply-say be out of range…” Gen replied, lowering the speaker in his hand with a sigh.

At the corner of her vision, Kohaku caught a bright flash from the direction of the ship. Her body tensed. She turned quickly, eyes narrowing. “That was strange… I could’ve sworn I saw a flash coming from the Perseus. Must be my imagination…”

“Our signal’s garbage. Might be a bad spot,” Gen said, voice edged with unease. “They could be preoccupied, but still…”

He clipped the speaker back into place on the side of the telephone box and walked over to his mate.

“Let me borrow that for a bit, my dear,” he said, gently plucking the telescope from Senku’s hands with a sweet smile.

“You and Kohaku-chan go ahead,” Gen added, already adjusting the lens. “Soyuz-chan and I will try to find a higher vantage point. We’ll catch up.”

Senku reached out, catching his arm. Gen turned, brows raised.

“Just be careful, mentalist,” Senku said, voice low and even.

Gen smiled, leaning in close—just enough to brush their noses together in a fleeting nuzzle before pulling away. “You know I always am~”

Senku blinked, slightly dazed by how fast the affectionate moment passed. He remained frozen, arm still slightly outstretched. Kohaku stood beside him, lips twitching as she tried (and failed) to stifle her laughter at the expression on his face.

Gen and Soyuz retraced their steps, heading back to where they last saw the Perseus. Five minutes passed quickly as the two made their way up to the cliff’s edge overlooking the coastline. From their vantage point, the ship was within clear view.

Soyuz shrugged off the makeshift telephone backpack and set it down. Gen immediately moved to grab the speaker.

“Since we’re closer, the signal should work now…” he murmured, lifting the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

Only static answered him.

Crackling. Then—nothing.

“That’s weird—” Gen began, but was cut off by a sudden scream.

Soyuz.

The alpha had picked up the telescope and looked through it—only to stagger back with a shout of pure terror.

Gen flinched hard, heart slamming in his chest. He immediately set the speaker down, gaze snapping to their surroundings, ready to react.

But there was no immediate threat.

Still—his body screamed danger.

Sweat gathered in his palms. His pulse pounded in his ears. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right.

His omegan instincts prickled.

The trees rustled in the breeze. A flock of birds suddenly burst upward from the canopy, scattering into the sky.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

His gaze flicked to the forest behind them, breath slowing as instinct crept in like a slow tide.

He needed to stay on guard—ready to react, to defend, to fight, if necessary.

…Huh?

Gen wasn’t a violent person by nature. He’d always preferred words, diplomacy, clever maneuvering over brute force. But that didn’t mean his omegan instincts agreed. Truthfully, he didn’t fully understand what that part of himself was capable of. Everything he knew about secondary biology came from books, not experience.

Still—he felt it now.

A sharp, consuming urge to protect. To shield.

His breathing grew heavier as he flicked a glance toward Soyuz. The alpha was still staring over the edge at the Perseus, completely absorbed. One arm was extended as he pointed at something below.

Too emotional. Unfocused. Unresponsive.

Too exposed.

He’s vulnerable. And that’s dangerous.

Gen’s brows furrowed deeply as he stepped forward with measured caution, eyes flickering between the trembling alpha and the dense forest surrounding them. He stayed low, shoulders tight, every sense on alert. There was a feeling—a deep, awful twisting in his gut. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. He didn’t know what, but his body was screaming at him not to let his guard down.

Stay calm, he told himself. With how Soyuz-chan’s acting, one of us has to keep it together.

He swallowed thickly and instinctively lifted his arm—not to shield his face, but to brace his abdomen. He didn’t even realize he’d done it until his fingers hovered there, protectively.

It wasn’t Soyuz he was trying to protect.

It was himself.

That overwhelming need to defend, to guard—his body wasn’t responding to the alpha’s panic. It was responding to something deeper, something within. And clearly, the shaking alpha wouldn’t be able to protect them.

So Gen would have to do it.

He took a shaky breath and whispered, his voice low and urgent. “What happened? Is the enemy near?”

“Ship. Check the ship!” Soyuz blurted out, thrusting the telescope toward him.

Gen grabbed the object, fingers tightening around the cool metal as he gave Soyuz a steady look. “Alright… but watch my back, Soyuz-chan.”

He didn’t move until the alpha gave him a shaky nod. Only then did Gen finally turn away. He was acutely aware of how exposed he was in this position—his back open, his sides unguarded. It made his skin crawl. He grit his teeth, a sick twist in his gut.

Something about this felt wrong. Deeply, terribly wrong.

He raised the telescope to his eye, angling it carefully toward the deck of the Perseus.

Gen let out a sharp gasp.

Oh, that’s why Soyuz-chan was acting like that.

A cold chill crawled down his spine, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

There on the ship frozen in time:

Ryusui was flat on his back, one arm shattered into pieces. His right leg was twisted mid-kick.

Francois lay nearby, crumpled on their side, hair splayed like a curtain across the deck.

Ukyo still clutched his bow in one hand, the other stretched outward as if he’d just released an arrow before being frozen mid-action.

Chrome had an arm thrown out, his mouth open in what must’ve been a yell.

They were all statues.

Petrified.

Everyone on the Perseus had been turned to stone.

Gen lowered the telescope with trembling hands and let out a soft squeak. His mouth parted, ready to scream but he slapped a hand over his lips, trapping the sound before it escaped. His breath came out in shallow pants through his nose, eyes narrowing as his mind went into overdrive.

The whole crew was petrified.

That’s why no one had answered. Why no one had called back.

It must have happened after they left. Within the last twenty-five minutes.

Whoever or whatever caused this might still be nearby.

Soyuz’s scream… it could have already alerted them. And if Gen let himself scream too, it would be a dead giveaway.

No. No noise. No panic. Just action.

Gen’s body moved on instinct. He grabbed the makeshift telephone backpack and shoved it against Soyuz’s chest—harder than he meant to, but they didn’t have time to waste.

“We have to go,” Gen hissed.

First: distance. They needed to get away from here.

Second: find Senku and Kohaku. Tell them what happened. And, more importantly, keep Kohaku from charging into danger before thinking—because she absolutely would.

The four of them held the only chance at reviving everyone. They still had the revival formula. All they needed was the platinum. They had to find the Soyuz spaceship. Fast.

It was their only shot.

“We can’t stick around here any longer,” Gen said, voice sharper now. He snatched the telescope and met Soyuz’s wide eyes with unwavering resolve.

“Let’s meet up with Senku-chan and Kohaku-chan.”

The omega didn’t wait for a reply.

He was already moving—crouched low, body pushing forward through the bushes until their shelter ran out. Then he stood, legs kicking into motion, running as fast as his feet could carry him through the forest.

He had to get back to Senku. To his mate.

Gen pursed his lips, eyes prickling with unshed tears. He just wanted to reach Senku’s arms—knew that the alpha would keep them safe.

Behind him, Soyuz scrambled to follow, struggling to match the omega’s sudden burst of speed.

The forest felt different now. Darker. Every gust of wind, every creak of branches, every rustle of leaves sent another spike of dread through Gen’s chest.

He didn’t know why he was reacting this way—not yet. Didn’t realize that the heat pulsing through him, that fierce wave of protectiveness and sharp instinct to shield, wasn’t just fear.

It was his body reacting.

Not just to danger… but to the lives growing inside him.

The awareness hadn’t reached his mind yet. But the body always knows. And instincts never lie.

In the distance, Gen spotted Senku and Kohaku, both focused on something on the ground. Just seeing his mate brought a wave of relief crashing over him. It helped him think. Helped him breathe.

He needed to stay calm and composed. Now wasn’t the time to break down, to become irrational and unable to speak clearly. He had to hold it together—for all their sakes.

And he needed to stop Kohaku from charging off.

Even if it meant tying himself to her and getting dragged along in the process.

Luckily, he had just the thing. There was a thin rope tucked away in his sleeve.

But still he couldn’t afford to get hurt. Not now.

When they caught up to the others, Gen positioned himself directly in front of Kohaku, effectively blocking her from running off. Without wasting a moment, he launched into an explanation—every detail from the petrification to their escape, down to the last breathless second.

As Kohaku turned to gauge Senku’s reaction, Gen took the opportunity.

He crouched low and tied the rope around her ankle. The other end was already looped around his wrist.

When Kohaku finally looked back, Senku’s grim expression said it all. Her jaw clenched. Fury flickered in her teal eyes. She knew what this meant. She was their only trained warrior. Their last line of defense.

And she was ready to act.

“I know this is a lot, but please—try to stay calm—” Gen began, but it was too late.

Kohaku launched into action.

“Wait, Kohaku-chan!” Gen squeaked, his voice rising an octave.

Senku’s head whipped around just in time to see Gen get yanked forward, arm jerking as the rope pulled taut.

I knew this was going to happen.

Gen clenched his teeth and squealed when he felt his arm yanked backward.

Senku instinctively reached out, arms extended to catch him, but he was still a few steps too far.

Gen was pulled sharply in Kohaku’s direction. He threw out his arms just in time, landing hard on his hands and knees—but the force of the rope’s pull dragged him further. He pitched forward with a muffled thud, hitting the dirt.

Beside him, Kohaku let out an oomph, the rope tugging her off balance as well.

Gen quickly sat up, spitting out dirt and whipping his head toward the beta. His face stung from the fall, cheeks and forehead flushed red, hair sticking out wildly with a few flecks of soil clinging to it. But thankfully, he wasn’t injured—just rattled.

Kohaku looked over her shoulder, her expression stormy. She sprang to her feet and stomped over to him, leg raised to show the rope tied around her ankle.

“What the hell is this?!” she growled, pointing to it. “And why are you stopping me? There’s no time—we have to rescue everyone!”

The flush in her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment more than anger.

Gen stared up at her with a deadpan look, unimpressed. He jabbed a finger toward her, his voice sharp with frustration.

“Be rational! Everyone on the ship was petrified. If the four of us charge in without a plan, they’ll get us too and then that’s it. Game over. No one will be left to save them.”

Kohaku bristled. “But with my speed and skills, I could strike before they even—”

“Yeah?” Gen cut her off, clicking his tongue and hissing through his teeth. “And what if they outnumber you? What if they’re surrounding the ship and lying in wait?”

He pushed himself off the ground and dusted himself off. His voice dropped, firm but not unkind. “We don’t know how many enemies there are. We don’t even know who they are. All we know is they petrified everyone in under thirty minutes. We can’t risk losing our only chance.”

Soyuz looked toward Senku, bewildered. “When did Gen have time to tie a rope around her ankle? I didn’t even see it.”

Senku sighed, exasperated, and let his arms fall to his sides. His voice was dry. “Don’t question it. Sleight of hand is his thing—he’s a magician, remember?”

The scientist made his way toward the bickering pair, stepping neatly between them and raising a hand to break up the tension. Without missing a beat, he untied the rope from Gen’s wrist, then ruffled the omega’s hair, brushing off bits of dirt and debris clinging to the two-toned strands.

He tilted Gen’s face slightly, examining him with a quick but thorough gaze. Seeing only minor scratches, Senku exhaled—an unconscious breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Gen blinked at the attention but relaxed under the alpha’s touch.

Kohaku, still grumbling, yanked the rope off her ankle and tossed it to the ground with a huff of resentment.

That’s when Soyuz suddenly gasped, clutching his head as he stumbled slightly, a sharp grunt of pain escaping his lips.

All three turned toward him instantly, alarm etched across their faces.

“Ugh—wait, it’s all coming back to me,” Soyuz gritted out through his teeth, one hand still clutching his head. “Memories from when I was a baby. I remember… after seeing everyone on the ship turned to stone… a traumatic memory hit me. We were running away from something—something that was petrifying people.”

He let out a slow breath and lowered his head, apologetic. “My brain’s still fuzzy, so not everything’s clear yet. Sorry, everyone.”

“What are you talking about? You were just a baby,” Kohaku said, arms crossed in disbelief.

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why it’s amazing you can remember anything at all,” Gen chimed in, voice warm and encouraging. “Seriously, Soyuz-chan, give yourself a bit more credit.”

“That bit of information is helpful,” Senku added with a quick grin. “I appreciate anything you can tell us.”

He turned back toward the object of his earlier attention—something on the ground that he and Kohaku had been inspecting before the interruption.

“If you’re right, then that tells us a lot. One: the enemy knows we’re here. Two: they’re actively trying to petrify us. But three…” Senku’s expression sharpened, his eyes gleaming. “We might not be alone. There could be others on this island—potential allies—running from the same fate.”

After a bit of forensic deduction—Senku’s quick thinking paired with Gen’s uncanny instincts—they managed to piece together a hypothetical profile of their mystery assailant. Thanks to a hair Gen had found snagged on a low branch, Senku had Kohaku help improvise a centrifuge, using her own strength and precision. The result?

Their suspect was a young woman. Medium height, medium build.

They discovered that the woman lived somewhere in the mountains, and with Kohaku’s exceptional eyesight leading the way, they tracked her through the dense forest. Careful not to make a sound, the group crouched low in the underbrush, peering ahead as their target came into view—a young woman with medium-length brown hair, walking alone along a narrow path.

One look at her, and Gen knew—she was an omega. Her scent carried on the breeze, unmistakably sweet and fruity, delicate but vibrant. It clung to the air as she walked ahead, each step as unguarded as someone who had nothing to fear.

“There she is,” Gen whispered.

“Oh, she’s actually kinda cute. So what do we do? Capture her?” Kohaku asked, looking to Senku for direction.

Soyuz stared at the young omega woman, completely mesmerized by her beauty.

“Nu-uh, we keep it friendly for now,” Senku replied with a smirk.

“We need to convince her—maybe even seduce her if we have to—to get her to join us,” Gen said, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“She’s our only lead, and I’m not about to lose her,” Senku continued. “If we can get her to tell us where the platinum is, we’re one step closer to reviving everyone.”

“This might be a little icky-tray,” Gen muttered, already shifting like he was about to stand, “but I can think of a few things to persuade her…”

But before he could get up, loud shouting interrupted them.

“PLEASE MARRY ME!!!” three voices screamed in unison.

Two alphas and one beta had rushed out toward the girl, clearly trying to win her over.

“Ah. Well, looks like those three are already trying to do just that,” Gen said, lowering back into a crouch beside the others.

“You know what, how about we wait for this to play out…” Senku muttered, clearly bewildered by the sudden display.

“Shhh! Think of this as an investigation into their human nature,” Kohaku whispered excitedly, eyes sparkling. “Let’s observe how they act!”

“You’re just like Ruri-chan when it comes to this kind of stuff…” Gen chuckled softly, amused.

“Um… what should I do? My heart is pounding so much,” the omegan woman brought her hands up to her face, visibly flustered. “What if I say something strange? I’m so happy you all feel this way towards someone like me…”

“You’re not just anyone, Amaryllis! You’re the most beautiful woman on the island!” the alpha with the bob-cut exclaimed passionately, as the other two suitors nodded in emphatic agreement.

From their hiding spot, Senku picked at his ear, clearly unimpressed. Kohaku tilted her head, curiosity lighting her features, while Soyuz’s face had gone completely red.

“Look at her… she’s so beautiful,” Soyuz whispered in awe, practically breathless.

Gen blinked and leaned toward him with a teasing grin. “I wasn’t expecting Soyuz-chan to turn into a hopeless romantic… how cute~”

“Who do you think she’ll pick?” Kohaku asked, nostrils flaring with interest. “I think she’ll choose the pretty boy.”

Gen followed her gaze, raising a brow at the so-called pretty boy with the overly tidy bob-cut. None of the three suitors were particularly impressive in Gen’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to voice that aloud.

Still, the hairstyles… oh, the hairstyles.

One had a sharp bob that reminded him of a rejected idol trainee. Another had a dramatic ‘Y’ strand sticking straight up like an antenna. And the beta’s hair flared out at the ends like a fish’s tail fin. Gen lifted a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the laugh threatening to escape.

Gen glanced at his mate and couldn’t help but appreciate his wild, unmistakable hairstyle. He gave a small nod to himself, clearly satisfied.

As if sensing the omega’s eyes on him, Senku turned his head and raised a questioning brow.

“What?”

“Hm? Nothing,” Gen replied airily. “It’s just… if you ever have a sudden urge to change your hairstyle… promise me you’ll tell me first.”

Gen lowered the hand that had been covering his mouth and jabbed his finger toward the trio of suitors.

“Never, ever pull something like that.”

Senku followed the motion and visibly grimaced at the sight of the dramatic hairdos. “I’d rather die than do something that ridiculous,” he muttered, shuddering. “No offense to our old Empire of Might friends, but it’s like weird hair is a requirement.”

Before Gen could quip back, Kohaku’s voice cut in.

“What’s she doing?”

They turned their attention back to the scene just in time to see Amaryllis fumbling with something in her basket that promptly squirted liquid into her eye. She let out a soft squeak and turned around with watery eyes.

Oh wow, she could’ve made it big as an actress in the modern era, Gen thought, visibly impressed.

“My destiny is sealed,” Amaryllis sobbed, voice trembling. “Tomorrow, I am to be married into the Master’s harem. It’s fate.”

She looked at the three men with tearful eyes. “You know what happens to those who defy the Master’s orders…”

The three suitors fell into stunned silence before bursting into tears. They turned and fled, sobbing loudly as Amaryllis watched them disappear into the trees.

The four behind the bushes immediately stilled. The mood shifted.

Senku, Gen, Kohaku, and Soyuz exchanged looks.

Senku let out a chuckle. “Following that girl is worth ten billion points. We’ll finally get a glimpse of the big bad boss of this island.”

“Amaryllis-chan… was it?” Gen stroked his chin with a thoughtful smile. “Looks like we have a common enemy, and that girl might be the key. She may even know where the treasure box is…”

Kohaku and Soyuz watched quietly as their leader and his second-in-command planned ahead with practiced ease.

“Alright, first impressions are important, so we have to be eally-ray careful with how we approach her,” Gen announced in a serious tone. He turned toward his mate—only to realize he was gone. His eyes darted up and spotted Senku casually strolling toward the brown-haired omega.

“Hey. Where’s the treasure box at?” Senku asked, scratching his ear while looking at Amaryllis expectantly.

Gen’s jaw dropped. “Hey! That was way too straightforward!” he hissed.

“You’re not wrong,” Kohaku said with a lazy grin, stepping out from her hiding spot, “but this is Senku being Senku. Efficiency is always his priority, and honestly? I couldn’t agree more with our fearless leader.”

Kohaku’s hand casually slid to the hilt of her dagger, ready to unsheath it. “We want to save all of our petrified friends back on the Perseus as fast as possible and if that means holding this blade to her throat, then so be it.”

Gen choked on his spit and gave an awkward laugh. “You’d really go all out for your friends, huh, Kohaku-chan…”

“Who are you?” Amaryllis asked, eyes wide as she scanned each face in confusion. Then, realization slowly dawned across her expression. “Wait… are you here to escort me to the Master? That wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow!”

“‘Master’?” Gen repeated under his breath. He turned toward Soyuz. “Does that ring any bells, Soyuz-chan?”

Soyuz brought a hand beneath his chin, brows furrowed in thought.

Amaryllis’s eyes landed on the bald-headed alpha with the distinct X-shaped scar. Of the group, he was the only one who looked even remotely familiar. Her eyes lit up.

She gasped. “Ah! Forgive me—I had no idea you were the Master!”

Before anyone could react, Amaryllis gently set down her basket, hiked up her dress, and sprinted toward Soyuz. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

“I love you!”

Soyuz’s heart nearly exploded in his chest. His entire face turned beet red, arms flailing in the air as he struggled to figure out where to place them.

Amaryllis gazed up at him, blushing deeply. “So strong… and your eyes are so gentle. From the first glance, I was completely—”

THUD.

Soyuz let out a squeak and promptly fainted on the spot.

“Man down!” Kohaku gasped, pointing at the unconscious alpha. “I repeat—we have a man down!”

“It was like he was petrified,” Gen murmured, staring in shock, mouth agape.

“Huh?” Amaryllis tilted her head in confusion.

Moments later, Soyuz stirred and slowly sat up, sheepishly explaining to the bewildered omega that he wasn’t the “Master” she thought he was.

“You’re really not the Master?” Amaryllis asked again, just to be sure.

The shy alpha gave a small nod.

She glanced toward the other three, then back to Soyuz. “Out of the four of you, you looked the most familiar. The rest don’t look like they’re from this island at all.”

“Master?” Kohaku echoed, frowning thoughtfully. “So kind of like a chief or a ruler?” She then gestured toward Senku. “Well, this guy is our leader—”

Before anyone could stop her, Amaryllis was already moving.

With surprising speed, she rushed forward and threw her arms around Senku’s torso, pressing her face against his chest.

“I love you!” she announced dramatically, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

Senku stared down at her, absolutely unimpressed.

From a short distance away, Gen’s brows lifted. His lips were pressed into a thin, tightly controlled smile.

“Oh?” he said, voice deceptively light.

At such close proximity, Amaryllis immediately recognized the man before her as an Alpha—undeniably so. His scent hit her nose like a soft wave: earthy with a strange sweetness, like wildflowers and crushed herbs. She blinked up at him, briefly dazzled.

“Such strength—actually… maybe not so much,” she murmured, squinting. “Your eyes! Wait, they’re more… villainous? No—eyes of intelligence!”

She trailed off, trying to salvage the compliment, but it was clear this Alpha had no intention of responding to her flirtation. His expression didn’t change in the slightest. Cold. Indifferent.

Amaryllis slowly began to pull back, a realization dawning.

He was already bonded. She could practically smell it now—an omega’s scent faintly clinging to him, layered with stability and claim.

Still, if he was the Master of the Palace, wouldn’t he have a harem?

She tried again anyway. “From the moment I saw you, I—”

“Not interested,” Senku cut in flatly. He reached down, grabbed her wrists, and peeled them off his waist like they were annoying stickers. “I have a mate, and we’re happily bonded. Now—where’s the damn treasure box?”

Gen let out a light laugh, covering his mouth with a hand as his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Figured that wouldn’t work on Senku,” Kohaku said, arms crossed and a smug smile tugging at her lips. She cast Gen a sideways glance. “That guy’s practically smitten with his mate.”

Gen strode forward, expression pleasant but eyes sharp as he approached the brown-haired omega. He wasn’t thrilled that she had clung to Senku earlier—and certainly not pleased by how much of his mate’s scent now clung faintly to her. He’d correct that later. Thoroughly.

“Well, since you’re going around hugging everyone,” Gen began breezily, arms open in mock invitation, “you wouldn’t mind a little hug from me, would you~?”

He wasn’t subtle. Not with the way he stood just close enough to make sure his scent was unmistakably noticeable. Amaryllis turned toward him, foot lifting as if ready to throw herself into another embrace, but she froze mid-step.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh!”

She blinked at him, stunned. Her nose twitched faintly as realization dawned. The scent. That same earthy-sweet aroma from the Alpha earlier… was on this man too.

They were mated.

Bonded.

Gen started to lower his arms, satisfied, but before he could retreat, Amaryllis seized his hands in both of hers.

“You’re an omega!” Amaryllis gasped, eyes sparkling. “A male omega!”

“Yeah?” Gen offered a polite smile, nodding a bit awkwardly.

“Wow! I never thought I’d meet one—let alone speak to one face to face!” she marveled, staring at him like he was something out of a storybook. “The last male omega born on this island was decades ago. Since then, there hasn’t been a single one.”

“Huh. I guess that checks out,” Kohaku murmured thoughtfully. “Our village hasn’t had a male omega born either… not yet, anyway.”

Amaryllis took a step back, still clasping Gen’s hands as she looked him over from head to toe, clearly enchanted. Her gaze lingered just a little too long on his abdomen before snapping back to his face, brimming with renewed excitement.

She squealed.

“This is so exciting!”

Without warning, she laced their fingers together, beaming from ear to ear. She looked from Gen to Senku, whose raised brow and flat stare made him look less like an amused alpha and more like a very unimpressed one. A slight frown tugged at his lips—almost a pout.

“Congratulations, you two!” Amaryllis gushed. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now!”

“Uh… thank you?” Gen replied hesitantly, blinking at her sudden emotional shift. If she really had never seen a bonded male omega before, then this was a big deal. It made sense she’d be a little overexcited.

Senku had seen enough.

“Alright, that’s enough.” he grumbled, striding over with every intent to reclaim his mate from the clingy stranger.

But just as he reached them, a distant shout rang out—echoing from the direction of the village.

Amaryllis turned instantly, eyes widening in alarm. “Oh no…!”

She dropped Gen’s hands, hitched up her dress, and took off in a sprint toward the sound.

“What’s with all that shouting?!” Gen called after her, slightly confused.

“Where are you going, Amaryllis?” Kohaku shouted.

Amaryllis looked over her shoulder, her expression taut with worry. “It’s my village!”

That was all Gen needed to hear. He picked up his pace and took off after her, and the others followed suit—Senku, Kohaku, and Soyuz sprinting close behind.

They arrived just in time to see a crowd of villagers gathered with torches, voices raised in angry uproar. People yelled curses toward their so-called Master, fear and fury mixing in their words. It was less of a protest and more of a riot.

Amaryllis froze, biting her lip. “What do I do?!”

“I’ll immobilize them if that’s what it takes!” Kohaku’s eyes narrowed as she reached for the hilt of her dagger.

“No!” Gen quickly caught her wrist. “That’ll only escalate things. We want these people on our side—not against us!”

“Oh yeah? Then what do you suggest?” Kohaku frowned, not fully convinced but not pulling away either.

Senku stepped forward, voice calm but serious. “Looks like it’s time to test this out.” He moved over to Gen and peeled back the cloth hiding a small device strapped to his mate.

Gen blinked. “Wait, what are you—”

Kohaku immediately understood and reached into her bag, pulling out a pair of gas masks. She tossed one to Senku, who slipped it over Gen’s head before adjusting his own.

Senku gently guided Gen down, standing behind him as he adjusted the device strapped to the omega’s back.

“I need you on your hands and knees, Gen.”

“Huh?” Gen blinked up at him, confused but trusting. He followed the instructions, settling down on all fours. Something about the position felt vaguely familiar, but now wasn’t the time to argue.

Senku crouched beside him, his tone sharp and efficient. “Science suppression device: chloroacetone—otherwise known as tear gas.”

He carefully placed a vial of liquid into the compartment nestled in the box mounted on Gen’s back, then closed the lid and adjusted the nozzle, aiming it directly at the crowd.

Kohaku, standing beside them, had already taken her position at the crank. Her hands moved with expert speed, spinning it without hesitation.

The device hissed.

A burst of gas erupted from the nozzle, and within seconds, chaos spread through the rioting crowd. Cries of confusion and pain filled the air as the villagers dropped their torches, stumbling and falling as the gas took effect. They clutched at their eyes, which burned and teared up uncontrollably, while others collapsed, coughing violently and unable to see.

“Amazing… sorcery?” Amaryllis whispered in awe, watching the tear-gassed villagers stumble and wail.

“There. That should knock the fight out of them,” Senku remarked as Kohaku stopped cranking the device. He walked over and helped Gen to his feet, adjusting the box on his back before pulling the cloth over it once more.

“You could’ve at least warned me that I was going to be used as a lethal mobile weapon…” Gen muttered, pouting as he removed his mask.

“It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise attack if I did,” Senku replied coolly. “You’d have been too cautious. Besides, I’d never strap anything on your back that could actually kill you.”

He took both their masks and passed them to Kohaku, who began putting the gear away.

Gen’s pout softened, but Senku’s voice turned serious as he added, “I’d rather put myself in harm’s way than let you get hurt in the process.”

Gen blinked up at him, his chest tightening slightly but before he could say anything more, Amaryllis turned to face them.

“Who… are you people?” she asked, her voice breathless with wonder and disbelief. Then, after a moment lost in thought, something shifted in her expression—resolve blooming in her eyes.

“I… I know the secret behind the petrification beam,” she confessed. “I figured… if I was cute enough, I could marry my way into the Master’s harem and take him out from the inside. For everyone’s sake… I decided I had to be the most beautiful candidate on the island.”

She stepped forward, holding out her hand toward Senku.

“Will you help us? Please… fight by my side!”

Night had fallen by the time the five of them gathered inside Amaryllis’s hut. The gentle flicker of lantern light cast long shadows on the wooden walls as the brown-haired omega recounted her story—how, five years ago, she and her friends had been targeted by the petrification beam, and how she had been the only one to escape.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she held herself steady, determination anchoring her words. Gen listened closely, his expression somber, while Senku sat forward, eyes sharp with curiosity.

Thanks to Amaryllis’s testimony, they learned several vital truths.

The beam emitted by the petrification weapon was the same eerie green light that had once turned all of humanity to stone thousands of years ago. The device itself had been passed down through generations within the Master’s bloodline—an heirloom of devastation. Select warriors in the palace were granted access to it.

To activate the weapon, it had to be thrown. The purpose was distance—separating the wielder from the blast radius. This meant that the device had a range. A limitation.

Amaryllis confirmed that much herself: she had narrowly escaped petrification by cutting off her own hair after the beam had hit it.

The beam had rules.

Senku’s eyes gleamed with excitement, his entire body humming with energy. “If it follows rules, then it’s completely and utterly science. And if we’re fighting science with science…” He smirked. “We won’t lose.”

Gen hummed in agreement, reaching into the trail mix Francois had packed for him earlier. Thanks to the beta’s foresight, they’d already eaten the sandwiches, but Gen still had a small pouch of snacks tucked away. He grabbed a pinch and, without a word, turned slightly where he sat and lifted his hand toward his mate’s lips.

Senku opened his mouth automatically, accepting the offering.

Gen smiled softly before turning back, gaze drifting toward Amaryllis. She was watching them with a fond smile, her expression briefly softening perhaps reminded that not every bonded pair lived under tyranny.

“Amaryllis,” Kohaku began, hands on her hips, her tone firm. “You mentioned the Master’s people are coming for you tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Amaryllis replied with a small nod. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, anxiety bleeding into her posture. “Each year, they visit every village to select ‘pretty faces’—anyone over eighteen—to add to the palace’s inner harem.”

She paused and smiled sadly. “Even though they call it a selection… it’s really just forced recruitment.”

Her eyes flicked to Gen and Senku. “They don’t even care if you’re mated or married. They’ll forcibly break the bond between you. And if an omega or female beta is already pregnant when they’re taken into the palace…”

Her voice faltered, trembling. “They eliminate the pregnancy. Rarely, they’ll allow it to reach full term—only to dispose of the pups afterward.”

The silence that followed was thick and heavy.

Amaryllis looked down, voice quiet. “It’s devastating. I can’t imagine the agony… losing your mate, your child… everything.”

Gen’s breath caught in his throat. A wave of nausea crashed over him so suddenly he brought a hand to his mouth, the other arm wrapping tightly around himself. He gagged—body reacting before his mind could fully process the horror of what he’d just heard.

Vile. Disgusting. Monstrous.

His omegan instincts roared in protest, screaming with a kind of protective rage. All the emotions he’d felt earlier when he and Soyuz were checking in with the Perseus, came flooding back in full force.

To protect. To defend. To fight the threat and stay on guard.

Gen leaned forward as sweat began to trickle down the side of his face. His heart pounded. His mind raced as words echoed through his thoughts.

No, his instincts cried. Not mine. Never mine.

Gen didn’t know what it meant but his instincts did. His omegan side definitely did, reacting with an intensity he couldn’t explain.

The thought of his bond with Senku breaking struck him with a deep, sharp ache.

He’d die if that ever happened.

He knew he was being dramatic, but that is what it would feel like.

On the outside, Gen looked composed. But inside, he was barely holding it together.

He felt Senku shift behind him, his mate’s chest pressing against his back. Senku’s legs extended on either side of him, one arm curling protectively around Gen’s stomach.

He gently tucked a lock of Gen’s white hair behind his ear. “Gen?”

Gen shook his head faintly, swallowing hard. “I’m fine,” he murmured, though his voice wavered. He lowered his hand from his mouth and leaned back against Senku’s shoulder. “Just a heavy topic…”

But his mind was spinning.

Senku knew it was something more. Quietly, he rested his chin against the side of Gen’s head and rubbed soothing circles over his stomach with his thumb.

“Yeah…”

Senku’s scent enveloped Gen like a blanket, a shield that immediately made the omega relax.

“The Master’s preferences are female betas and omegas but they heavily lean toward omegas,” Amaryllis declared. “I’m the perfect candidate. I can easily infiltrate the palace and steal the weapon.”

Kohaku looked at her, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Even if the men fall for your charms, the female warrior—Kirisame—she had the petrification device.”

“You just need someone who can handle themselves in a fight,” Gen murmured, his head lulling to the side against Senku’s shoulder.

“Where am I supposed to find a woman who can fight and get into the palace with me?” Amaryllis asked, exasperated.

Almost immediately, all eyes turned to Kohaku—who grinned.

“Hah! So all I need to do is get picked at the Selection?” she declared, proudly puffing her chest. “I’m a beta, so it all works out!”

“Eh?” Senku looked at her in disbelief.

“Huh.” Soyuz blinked and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he saw right.

“Wha—” Gen pushed himself up into a standing position. “You?”

Kohaku narrowed her eyes at him in warning, prompting Gen to quickly raise both hands in surrender.

“Um, what a great idea! ruly-tay~” he sang, giving her a shaky thumbs-up. “We just need to work on you, fix you up, and bam! Pretty but deadly.”

Kohaku grinned evilly at the image forming in her mind and let out a snicker. “I like it.”

Senku stood and stretched, waving one hand lazily in the air. “We’ve got science on our side. This’ll be a simple task.”

Kohaku’s smile turned feral as she casually picked her ear. “I’m curious to see how science plans to help with this.”

“Makeover montage~!” Gen sang out excitedly.

Senku laughed under his breath but quickly shut it down. “Sorry, mentalist, but I’m going to have to veto that. I don’t have enough materials on me, and we’ll definitely need the lab for the real stuff.”

“Aww…” Gen deflated with a pout, though he nodded in understanding. “They’ve probably got the ship surrounded by now and are investigating on board anyway.”

“You can leave the clothing to me!” Amaryllis chimed in, clapping her hands together. “I have plenty of cute dresses—one of them’s bound to fit Kohaku!” She immediately turned to rummage through a large storage box.

While the ecstatic omega searched for dresses, the group climbed down from Amaryllis’ hut and waited outside.

“What’s the plan?” Soyuz asked their leader.

Senku brought a hand to his chin, wearing a thoughtful look. “Hmm… We’ll need to account for how many people have surrounded the Perseus, and whether it’s even possible to sneak on board.”

“The real question is who’ll be the one to do the sneaking,” Gen added, then suddenly snapped his head toward the blonde beta with a pointed warning. “And if you go running off the second we arrive to scout the Perseus, there will be consequences, okay?”

“Your threats don’t scare me,” Kohaku replied with a casual shrug, completely unbothered.

Gen exhaled sharply through his nose and offered her a sweet, closed-eyed smile. “Mmkay~ We’ll run that back again when I have you eating your words. Now then—” He turned smoothly back to the two alphas, brushing off the exchange. “Soyuz-chan and I will lead the way, but we have to be quiet. Can’t risk alerting them.”

Just then, Amaryllis hopped down from the last step of her hut, holding up a white dress with pride.

“Here we are! Try this one, Kohaku!” she beamed. “It’s super cute—I have a feeling it’ll suit you perfectly!”

“Thanks, Amaryllis,” Kohaku said as she took the dress in hand. She let out a low, mischievous chuckle. “Now then… let’s get this show started.”

“Operation: Doll Up Kohaku begins!” Amaryllis declared with a triumphant grin.

_________

Bonus+

Amaryllis watched the scene with a fond look, then nudged Kohaku’s side as the beta sat next to her.“They’re so adorable! Are they like this all the time?”

Kohaku raised a brow and followed the omega’s gaze—straight to Senku and Gen.

Senku was sitting behind Gen, legs spread around his mate’s sides, arms wrapped comfortably around his waist, chin resting atop Gen’s shoulder. Gen, legs crossed, leaned back against Senku’s chest and lifted half a sandwich to his alpha’s mouth. Senku took a happy bite.

When tomato juice dribbled from the corner of his lip, Gen immediately swiped it with a finger and popped it into his mouth, humming in delight.

Kohaku immediately felt a wave of regret crash over her as she recalled all the times she’d pestered Gen to spill the details of his relationship with Senku. She’d only ever seen the tamest, most harmless interactions—but this? This was downright sappy. Disgustingly sweet in a way that made her want to gag and smile at the same time.

“Well… actually, yeah,” she admitted, lips twitching into a wry smile.

Amaryllis clapped her hands together and let out a dreamy squeal. “May that kind of love find me!”

Kohaku chuckled, shifting into a more relaxed sprawl beside her. “To think those two were pining after each other for, what, two and a half years?” She shook her head, clearly exasperated but fond. “Still not as bad as my sister and Chrome, though. Those two have been circling each other for twelve years. Can you believe he still doesn’t have the guts to confess?”

She sighed dramatically. “We’ve handed him opportunities on a silver platter, created the perfect romantic setup, and nothing.”

“Maybe he wants to do it on his own terms, set the mood for himself,” Amaryllis mused, tapping a finger against her chin. “Would you confess to someone if everyone was pestering you to do it all the time?”

Kohaku cringed at the thought and shook her head. “No… ugh, you’re right. It should be up to Chrome.” She sighed, then crossed her arms with a huff. “But he better hurry up before a better suitor comes along and sweeps my sister off her feet.”

Amaryllis laughed and bumped her shoulder against Kohaku’s. “This Chrome guy better thank me later for getting you to see things from his point of view.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Kohaku agreed with a laugh of her own.

Amaryllis quieted down as her gaze returned to the bonded pair, her expression softening. “They make quite the happy family… I feel awful for dragging Gen into this.”

Kohaku squinted at her, puzzled by the sudden guilt. “Why? Gen’s strong in his own way.”

“I’m endangering them,” Amaryllis murmured, gesturing vaguely around them. “The Master… the chance of a fight… of getting petrified. I’m scared of what could happen to the—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kohaku cut in gently. “Senku’s here. There’s no way he’d ever let Gen get hurt. And besides, you’ve got me and Soyuz too. We already know how to undo the petrification. If one of us gets hit, we have the solution.”

Amaryllis blinked at her and slowly took in a breath.

“Take a deep breath and relax,” Kohaku encouraged with a smile.

Amaryllis exhaled slowly. “Sorry… you’re right. I’m just being silly.”

“It’s not silly to be worried.” Kohaku shook her head. “It means you care.”

Kohaku grinned as she tried to lighten the mood. “Besides, I’ve been told male omegas are pretty strong. I know a few—mostly Gen and Ukyo. My village never had any male omegas.”

Amaryllis tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Then how do you know Gen and this… Ukyo person? Are they not from your village?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Kohaku mused. “They were outsiders before we all united under the Kingdom of Science. But they told me there’s a possibility of late bloomers—people who present later in life.”

“Really? How interesting!” Amaryllis brightened, her expression lighting up with wonder. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Yes, Senku said there’s a one in ten chance,” Kohaku replied with a shrug. “But so far, no one’s drawn that straw. It’s okay, though.”

Amaryllis leaned in, her curiosity returning. “If you had to guess… who do you think would end up drawing that kind of lot?”

Kohaku stroked her chin thoughtfully. “I never really gave it much thought… I wonder who it could be.”

On the other side of the island, a muffled sneeze echoed from inside a barrel. One of the patrolling warriors paused, glancing around warily when he saw no one in sight. After a moment, he shrugged and continued on.

Inside the barrel, Ginro clamped both hands over his mouth, trembling.

That was way too close… I almost got caught! Tears welled up in his eyes. Someone save me! Kinro, Senku, Kohaku, Gen—anyone!

He’d been stuck in the cramped barrel for hours. Night had definitely fallen, though he had no idea how late it was anymore.

Curled into himself, Ginro whispered a string of desperate prayers and tried—somehow—to telepathically send his plea across the island.

Please save me…!

“Gah!” a beta warrior yelped, stumbling back.

His partner glanced over, puzzled. “What’s wrong, Fern?”

“D-Did you see that?!” Fern pointed toward the darkened corner of the deck. “Something just moved—I swear!”

The alpha beside him, Aloe, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fern, for the love of the island… I think you’ve been drinking again. Or maybe listening to Oarashi’s ghost stories one too many times.”

“I haven’t been drinking!” Fern snapped, voice pitched with genuine panic. “And I’m telling you—I saw a shadow!”

Aloe gave him a flat look. “Right. And I’m the King of the Island. Come on, we’re on patrol. Minister Ibara will be here soon.”

“Don’t leave me behind!” Fern whined as he jogged after Aloe, casting one last nervous glance at the shadows behind them.

A moment of silence passed before a small figure peeked out from a dark corner—Suika. She had almost been caught. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized she needed to move quickly and quietly.

The greenhouse! Suika lit up with determination. Tucking herself back inside her trusty watermelon helmet, she rolled away silently, weaving through shadows.

Senku and the others are okay, she told herself. They probably know what happened to everyone on the crew by now…

Making her way carefully across the ship, Suika avoided the patrols of the unknown warriors now claiming the Perseus. Even now, it felt surreal—everyone she cared about turned to stone in an instant. The image burned in her memory.

She remembered Ryusui’s face—stern but concerned—as he scolded her earlier for sneaking aboard. But she knew. She knew he was worried about her. And when Francois confirmed it, it filled her little heart with warmth.

He’d kicked her away just in time—just before the green light washed over everything.

Helpless, she had watched the wave of petrification swallow them all.

Suika knew that Senku and the others would come to the rescue but she couldn’t let the enemy know that some of them had already made it to the island. So, she made a decision: first, hide the motorboat… then head back to the Perseus and wait.

She slipped quietly into the greenhouse, heart thumping in her chest, and nestled herself among the watermelons.

The little pup had a feeling—Senku would need something from the ship. And when that moment came, she’d be ready.

But for now, she would stay hidden.

And wait.

Chapter Text

September 10th, 5741 AD

The moonlight glistened over the ocean, casting silver streaks across the waves as they calmly crashed against the cliffs. The low hum of insects filled the quiet night, while on the deck of the Perseus, warriors with torches patrolled in clusters, clearly searching for something or someone. A few small boats, presumably how the warriors arrived, now surrounded the ship like a silent blockade.

Everything had been going smoothly. Kohaku had even tried on the dress in front of them, much to Amaryllis’s shock. Gen, ever the observant one, had voiced his concerns about the blonde beta’s behavior, noting how unladylike she was acting. Still, he and Soyuz led the group to a higher spot they had scouted earlier, offering a clear view of the Perseus.

Through the telescope, they spotted Minister Ibara. Amaryllis briefly explained his position: the Master’s right hand and second in command. He was disturbingly tall, and his presence carried a chilling aura that unsettled Gen when it was his turn to look through the lens.

But of course, their quiet surveillance didn’t last long.

The moment the telescope was passed to Kohaku, trouble began. Gen had tied a rope around their wrists as a precaution but it snapped under the force of her sudden movement. He couldn’t blame her for reacting so strongly, but still, it risked exposing all of them.

He knew this would happen. He called it.

Now, Kohaku stood exposed, shielding her face with her arms as the alpha woman—presumably Kirisame—had noticed her and was already launching a series of powerful kicks.

The group watched in horror as Kohaku struggled against the limitations of the dress, now torn and dirtied from the fight. Gen hissed, panic rising in his throat, and without thinking, sprinted down the rocky path toward her. Senku and the others followed close behind.

“Kohaku-chan…” Gen muttered through gritted teeth, his mind racing. “Have to think of something…”

“LAB!!” Kohaku shouted at the top of her lungs, gritting her teeth. The desperate cry made her attacker freeze.

“Please!” she continued, her voice hoarse. “That’s what I want—I need the Lab!”

Kirisame froze mid-kick, staring down at the blonde beta with a puzzled expression. “Lab…?”

Just a few feet away, Gen and the others hid behind a massive rock. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffside filled the tense silence between them. Amaryllis tilted her head in confusion, then tapped Soyuz’s arm and gestured toward Kohaku, clearly asking, What is she talking about?

Gen brought a hand to his chin, eyes sharpening as a plan began to form in his mind. Senku stood beside him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for his mate to finish calculating his next move.

Soyuz opened his mouth, blinked at Amaryllis’s confusion, and suddenly understood. Of course—the islanders didn’t know what a lab was. Leaning close, he whispered quickly, careful not to let his voice carry. “A lab isn’t a person. It’s something we need—a place for science, where Senku can build what’s required for the next phase of our plan. But the islanders wouldn’t know that…”

Amaryllis’s mouth shaped into a silent “oh” as she absorbed the information. She nodded and looked toward Gen and Senku again.

she thought, a sly grin forming. We just need to convince Kirisame that ‘Lab’ is a person.

But just as she reached that conclusion, she saw the bicolor-haired omega hook an arm around his mate’s and begin tugging Senku forward, clearly about to leap into action.

A jolt of panic shot through her. Without thinking, Amaryllis lunged and grabbed the back of Gen’s purple overcoat, yanking him to a halt before he and Senku stepped into view.

Amaryllis tugged them back with surprising strength, gently maneuvering them behind her. She couldn’t let Gen expose himself out in the open—especially not in the condition he was in.

The brown-haired omega bit her lip, then motioned for them to stay put. She had briefly explained the island’s history with male omegas, but the two didn’t seem fully aware of what that truly meant.

If Kirisame—an alpha—caught a whiff of Gen’s scent, bonded, claimed, and very clearly expecting, that would spell disaster. The alpha woman’s interest would undoubtedly lock onto Gen. She’d take him—Amaryllis had no doubt—and present him directly to Minister Ibara. The Minister would likely beam at the discovery for a moment… before his expression turned to cold disappointment.

He’d most likely assign Gen to the harem, sever his bond with Senku—and then what? Amaryllis wasn’t sure what the Minister would do about the pregnancy. Would he forcefully terminate the pup in Gen’s womb? Or would he be merciful and allow him to carry it to term? And then, what would happen to the child?

Amaryllis didn’t know Gen and Senku well—they’d only just met hours ago—but it was obvious in the way they looked at each other, the way they moved together: they were deeply, unquestionably in love. Kohaku and Soyuz cared deeply for their pack leader and his mate. There was respect, protection, loyalty. If something happened to Gen right in front of them…

How would they react?

And more importantly, how would Senku react?

She’d looked into his crimson eyes before. Yes, they seemed villainous at first glance, but there was a deep intelligence in them. Calculated, cold perhaps but sharp. Dangerous. He wasn’t particularly muscular like Soyuz, but he was strong. When she’d hugged him earlier, mistaking him for the Master, she had felt lean, hidden muscle beneath his clothes. It hadn’t impressed her but it had surprised her, especially coming from someone with such a calm, unreadable demeanor.

Her instincts whispered a warning.

That man with the crimson eyes—he’s the kind of alpha who could bring hell to earth if someone dared to take what was his.

“Leave it to me,” Amaryllis whispered, eyes filled with unwavering determination.

Gen closed his mouth, the question he’d been about to ask dying on his tongue.

“I have an idea.”

They watched as Amaryllis cupped her face with her hands and stepped into full view. Gen and Senku exchanged a glance, both raising a brow before leaning forward to peek around the rock and watch the scene unfold.

Acting came naturally to Amaryllis. With practiced ease and sheer force of will, she summoned tears into her eyes, her voice breaking as she called out, trembling with emotion.

“Kohaku, please… that’s enough!”

Her sudden appearance caught everyone’s attention. Kohaku blinked in surprise, while Kirisame’s expression hardened.

“Another one?” Kirisame narrowed her eyes at Amaryllis.

Amaryllis clenched her fist and placed it over her heart, bowing her head as her voice quivered with sorrow. “Please forgive my friend, Kirisame… she’s been hysterical ever since the loss of her first love. Lab… he passed away a few seasons ago from that strange illness.”

Kirisame’s eyes widened slightly, her body going still as she looked silently at the blonde beta. Kohaku quickly rubbed her eyes, hiding her expression behind her arm.

“I’m sorry, Amaryllis,” she choked out. “It’s just… unreal!”

Amaryllis walked to Kohaku’s side, subtly spreading her scent—both to calm the tension and mask the presence of the others nearby. She gently rubbed Kohaku’s back, her expression filled with pity.

“Back in the village, Kohaku would cry her heart out to the point where everyone grew concerned,” she said softly. “She used to shout about how much she missed Lab, how much she needed Lab. The elders eventually told her to take her grief to the sea… and I’ve been accompanying her ever since.”

Kohaku bit her lip, fighting a smile. Her shoulders shook not with laughter, but with feigned sorrow that easily passed for grief. “Today marks the final day,” she whispered. “I’m ready to let go… to move on.”

“I know,” Amaryllis sighed dramatically. “But couldn’t you have waited for me to catch up? Look at the commotion and misunderstanding you’ve caused.”

She gestured to Kohaku’s disheveled appearance, then turned to Kirisame with a remorseful look. Her voice dropped with sincerity.

“Please forgive us, Kirisame. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Kohaku bowed beside her, still sniffling, playing her part to perfection.

Kirisame stared down at them in silence, her expression unreadable. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her fists clenched at her sides. Finally, she spoke—low, calm, and cold.

“It’s just a misunderstanding, as you said. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll allow you to mourn, but do it in silence. Return to your village after. I better not see you two lingering around—there could be enemies nearby. You’d only be putting yourselves in danger.”

With that, Kirisame turned on her heel, retracing her steps. She hopped onto a nearby rock, the ocean breeze catching her sheer dress, making it ripple around her like a banner in the wind.

“Thank you,” Amaryllis called after her. “It won’t happen again.”

She grasped Kohaku’s arm and began leading her away. Kirisame paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Her gaze briefly rested on Kohaku.

“Sorry for your loss.”

And with that, the alpha woman leapt away, quickly vanishing into the night.

Kohaku stared in silence at the place she disappeared, then allowed herself to be guided by Amaryllis. They regrouped with the others, the tension slowly easing from everyone’s shoulders.

Gen, ever perceptive, noticed the thoughtful expression lingering on Kohaku’s face.

“Kohaku-chan?” he asked gently.

Kohaku’s gaze remained distant. “Her eyes… held sadness when she said that.”

Amaryllis sighed, her voice softer than before. “The same strange illness took her grandfather when she was young. And just a few seasons ago, there was another outbreak. Minister Ibara had all those infected isolated… then executed.”

Gen frowned. Cruel didn’t even begin to cover it. Kohaku’s lips parted in shock, while Soyuz stood frozen, stunned into silence. Senku’s brows drew together in a tight pinch as he brought a hand under his chin, thinking.

“Do you know what kind of symptoms they displayed?” Senku asked, his tone even but intense.

Amaryllis shook her head. “No, but it was believed to be contagious. That’s what the Minister Ibara claimed, anyway. Since then, no one else has fallen ill.”

Kohaku clenched her teeth, fury flashing in her eyes. “That bastard,” she spat, Ruri’s face suddenly vivid in her mind.

“Do you think it could be the same illness as Ruri’s?” Soyuz asked quietly, glancing toward Senku.

“I can’t say for sure,” Senku replied, his voice edged with frustration. “Not without more information. If Amaryllis doesn’t remember the symptoms, we can’t confirm anything. It could’ve been anything—ranging from a simple infection to something more severe… even multiple illnesses mistaken as one.”

He exhaled and rubbed his temples.

“With the loss of medicial knowledge, there was no way for them to know,” Gen said, shaking his head. “But that still doesn’t excuse what he did.”

He gestured with his hand toward a large boulder that offered a good view of the ship while remaining hidden from plain sight. “With your quick thinking, Amaryllis-chan, you saved us. Let’s just hope someone heard Kohaku-chan’s shouting.”

“That’s assuming someone managed to escape the petrification,” Senku muttered as he walked toward the boulder. He crouched behind it and pulled out the telescope. Gen followed and naturally settled beside him.

“Thank you, Amaryllis. Really.” Kohaku turned to the brown-haired omega with a small but sincere smile, then placed her hands firmly on her hips. “I’m positive one of our crew members heard me. We’ll get the lab back, use it for whatever science experiments you’ve got in that genius brain of yours, Senku—and then we’ll crush both the Master and that Ibara guy to a pulp.”

Amaryllis smiled and nodded, reassured by their determination.

“Wait, wait—is that…?” Soyuz squinted at the deck near the back of the ship, where the barrels were stacked. A flicker of movement caught his eye—something pale. “Look at the rear deck, near the barrels. I think I see someone!”

“Aha! I knew it—a survivor!” Kohaku exclaimed, her teal eyes lighting up as she zoomed in on the spot with excitement.

“Who is it?” Senku grinned, already lifting the telescope. His eyes gleamed with hope. “Please let it be someone useful…”

A beat.

“Oh my god. It’s Ginro,” Kohaku groaned, the excitement draining from her voice.

Gen pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. “Out of everyone, it had to be our resident troublemaker…”

“Ehh, Ginro can’t be that bad…” Soyuz said with a tight smile, still trying to look hopeful. “I’m sure he’ll come through…”

Senku gave a noncommittal grunt as Gen gently pried the telescope from his hands. He rubbed Senku’s back in a soothing motion, then raised the telescope to his own eye.

“As I thought, he’s trying to say something…”

Through the lens, Gen watched as Ginro flailed his arms in dramatic, panicked motions, mouthing words exaggeratedly.

‘Come save me, Senku! Gen!’ Ginro pleaded silently, pointing desperately to himself.

Gen lowered the telescope, bit his lip, and deadpanned, “…He wants us to save him.”

This caused the other three to groan out loud. Amaryllis blinked, clearly confused.

“Is this Ginro person really that terrible? Surely he could do something… right?” she asked, glancing between them, then back at the ship.

“Ginro-chan isn’t completely useless,” Gen replied with a sigh, addressing his fellow omega. “When push comes to shove, he does take action. But when it comes to retrieving the lab… we’d prefer someone more dependable.”

He passed the telescope back to Senku with a huff. “In modern terminology, if this were a gacha game—people like Ryusui-chan, Ukyo-chan, or Francois-chan would be considered five-stars. Ginro, on the other hand…” Gen made a face. “He’d be a one-star.”

“And we happened to pull on a bad batch,” Senku muttered, blowing air through his lips, making his bangs flutter slightly.

“That’d be thanks to your luck, darling~” Gen chimed in with a teasing smile.

“But Ginro’s still dependable!” Kohaku cut in, her voice laced with nervous hope. “One-star and all, right?” She pointed urgently at the ship. “I think he’s trying to say something again!”

Senku gave her the benefit of the doubt and raised the telescope once more, adjusting the lens and watching closely.

Through the scope, Ginro was flailing dramatically, tears streaming down his face as he mouthed something toward the shore.

‘Please, save me! I’m scared!’

Senku lowered the telescope with a deadpan stare, set it on the ground, and ran both hands down his face. His right eye twitched. “Argh…”

“Okay, okay! Let’s think for a moment,” Gen said, hoping to ease the tension as he absentmindedly took the alpha’s hands into his own. “Good news—there’s a survivor, and he’s still on board. I’m onestly-hay surprised he hasn’t been caught yet… that’s something, right?”

He glanced over at Kohaku and Soyuz, who both nodded in agreement.

“There’s even a chance someone else managed to escape and is just hiding inside the ship,” Gen added, gently rubbing small circles into Senku’s open palms with his thumbs.

“Y-Yes! That’s right!” Kohaku said, her eyes lighting up as she clenched her fists with renewed hope.

“But… what if it’s only Ginro?” Soyuz asked, concern lining his voice.

Gen’s lips stretched into a thin line. He hummed, weighing the possibilities, before finally settling on an idea. “Okay, then we just come up with a retrieval and rescue operation…even if it’s difficult.”

“You’re right, Gen,” Senku murmured, releasing a slow breath. His gaze shifted to the omega’s side profile, the soft curtain of white hair covering part of his face. Reaching up, he gently tucked a lock behind Gen’s ear.

“According to Amaryllis, the ceremony is tomorrow,” Senku continued. “That means Ibara will have to leave at some point. He’ll likely take half the warriors with him and leave a few stationed on the Perseus.”

Gen gave him an appreciative smile, eyes twinkling with familiar mischief. “Yes, and if he only leaves a few behind, it’ll be easier to deal with them especially since we’ve got Kohaku-chan and Soyuz-chan here. And I’m sure if you had the right materials lying around, you’d whip up some sleeping gas or, I don’t know, melatonin gummies out of thin air.”

Senku let out a rare laugh. “Huh. I hadn’t thought about that. You should write down all your ideas, and I’ll pick out which ones are useful.”

“Hey!” Gen placed a hand on his hip, giving Senku a pointed look. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that whenever I mention something, you somehow bring it to life the next day.”

He smirked, teasing. “Am I your muse?”

Gen’s gray-blue eyes sparkled, reminding Senku of a starry night sky—vast, glowing, impossible to look away from. The alpha felt his ears heat up and quickly averted his gaze, coughing softly.

“Ahem… who knows.”

Gen pouted and lightly smacked his arm. “I’m not hearing a no~”

“Sorry to interrupt this adorable moment, really…” Amaryllis cut in gently, though her voice held urgency as she motioned toward the ship. “But I think Minister Ibara just noticed our friend.”

The four of them whipped their heads back toward the ship just as the tall man began approaching the barrels. Gen instinctively grabbed Senku’s hand, anxiety bubbling in his chest as he watched the scene unfold.

The omega stared worriedly as the imposing figure came to a stop in front of the barrel stack, flanked by several warriors holding torches and weapons. Gen held his breath as Ibara leaned down, inspecting one of the barrels closely.

Don’t notice Ginro-chan. Please don’t notice Ginro-chan… Gen bit down on his bottom lip, silently chanting the plea in his mind.

Senku gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, keeping his gaze focused. “It’s going to be okay, Mentalist,” he said calmly. “Looks like you were right about there being another survivor.”

Senku’s grin widened as the crowd around Ibara suddenly paused and turned toward the direction of the greenhouse. The others followed his gaze. Sure enough, Ibara, Kirisame, and a few of the warriors began heading toward the structure.

They watched, tense, as the group peeked through the glass ceiling. Then one of the men called out to Ibara and pointed to a nearby entrance. Moments later, the group disappeared inside.

“Wait…” Gen blinked, his brow furrowing. “I hadn’t noticed it earlier—with everything going on—but the motorboat we arrived on is gone.”

His eyes scanned the rocky shoreline, focusing on the spot where they’d left the boat just hours ago.

Empty.

He turned to Senku, and the two locked eyes. Senku’s eyes lit up in recognition, watching as Gen pieced it together.

“Hm?”

“They must’ve moved it,” Gen said slowly, glancing back toward the greenhouse and then around the perimeter. “Someone must’ve hidden the boat so the islanders wouldn’t realize someone from the ship made it to land…”

Gen turned, eyes scanning the shoreline again with growing urgency.

Senku couldn’t stop the growing smile on his face. He picked up the telescope again and held it to his eye, scanning the area. “If we ten billion percent blend it into the natural surroundings and hide it from view, that should buy us some time before they even notice.”

It didn’t take long for him to spot it—tucked away behind a cluster of trees growing along the rocky cliffside. “There it is.”

He pointed toward the area, and the others followed his line of sight. Gen’s eyes lit up. He smiled, then turned his gaze back to the Perseus, nerves bubbling in his stomach. “Could it actually be…?”

“Yup. Our inside member is none other than Suika,” Senku confirmed with confidence. “She’s a master at blending in. With her and Ginro teaming up, those two can definitely bring the lab.”

The alpha’s voice held firm belief. He knew how dependable that little pup was—ten billion percent. And if Suika had a plan, who was Ginro to say no? It was nearly impossible to turn her down.

“Wait… she was on board this whole time?” Soyuz gasped.

“Hehe, classic Suika,” Kohaku said, smiling like a proud older sibling.

“Earlier today, when Ryusui-chan slammed the barrel down…” Gen added with fondness, “he was concealing our dear Suika-chan.” He chuckled, but then his smile faded into a worried sigh. “I can’t help but worry over her…”

“Suika?” Amaryllis tilted her head, confused. “Who is she?”

“Suika-chan is a cute little pup,” Gen replied, a soft look taking over his expression. “She’s small, but very smart and agile. Despite her size, she’s really ependable-day.” He smiled warmly at the thought of her.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Senku added with a nod.

“I can’t wait to meet her!” Amaryllis beamed, eyes sparkling with excitement. She clasped her hands together and tilted her head slightly. “Is she your pup as well?”

The question was directed at Gen and Senku.

Kohaku glanced over with a knowing grin, watching their reactions. Soyuz turned red and looked away, flustered.

Gen glanced at a small rock out of the corner of his eye, pretending to study it as a distraction while avoiding Amaryllis’s gaze and more importantly, Senku’s. His cheeks flushed at the thought of having pups with the alpha. Hidden by the long, flowing sleeves of his purple overcoat, his hands fidgeted together in his lap.

“…No, she’s not,” he finally murmured, voice softer now. “Other than it being physically impossible, the villagers told us Suika-chan’s parents passed away a few years after she was born. She was raised in the village before we ever came along.”

He paused, the fondness in his expression unmistakable. “But still… I truly love her. We all do. The others feel the same way.”

A quiet beat, then a spark of thought lit in his mind.

“Hmm… since we’re going to revive everyone someday, Suika-chan will eventually need a last name… Asagiri, maybe…?” He tapped his cheek thoughtfully with one hand, trailing off.

I wouldn’t mind if Suika-chan chose my last name… but now that I’m with Senku-chan… would I still be Asagiri, or…

That same hand slowly moved to cover his mouth. He turned slightly away, cheeks darkening.

Ishigami…

The name echoed softly in his mind.

Unaware, as his heart skipped and the fluttering in his belly returned—more persistent now, more real than nerves—that two tiny lives were already growing within him.

Beside him, Senku crossed his arms and yawned, completely unaware of the shift quietly unfolding next to him.

“For the mentalist and I to be her biological parents is nearly impossible, given the timeline and our ages,” Senku said matter-of-factly. “But there’s always adoption. Technically possible.”

He smirked and added, “Gen’s right, though. Surnames will matter again soon. We’ll let Suika decide. Whether it’s mine, his, or something brand new.”

“I want her to have mine!” Kohaku declared, pumping a fist in the air. “She’s so adorable, and I already see her as my little sister—so it’s only right!”

“From what I’ve seen… Ryusui and Ukyo,” Soyuz added thoughtfully, “not only do they look like they could be her actual parents, but they both act the part.”

Soyuz nodded to himself, confident in the observation. Over the past two years, he’d seen how those two hovered around Suika like doting guardians. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed how Senku and Gen treated her either.

In fairness, Suika had four parents, a grandfather, and at least a couple siblings.

“I keep hearing about this Ryusui and Ukyo,” Amaryllis said, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet them as well…”

“What?” Senku snapped his head toward Soyuz, one brow raised.

Gen chuckled under his breath at that reaction, already imagining the disaster that would inevitably follow. Suika did bear a strong resemblance to their captain—both had blonde hair and wide brown eyes. And as far as doting went, Ryusui and Ukyo could be almost too convincing as parents.

Gen sighed, glancing at his mate with amusement.

Looks like we’re due for a future custody battle.

He could already see it: Ryusui and Senku arguing over which last name Suika should take—Ishigami or Nanami—with all the passion of rival CEOs. Meanwhile, he and Ukyo would calmly pull Suika aside and present a lineup of alternatives, sneakily slipping in their own surnames—Asagiri and Saionji.

And if their little pup ended up choosing either of those, skipping the original options entirely, the omegas would celebrate quietly while their sulking alphas brooded like defeated schoolboys.

“You don’t even have a last name, lioness,” Senku said matter-of-factly. “And Suika will obviously choose mine.”

Gen quickly stepped in before Kohaku could fire back and drag the moment into a full-on argument. “Let’s table that discussion ater-lay,” he said brightly, gesturing with his hand. “Suika-chan and Ginro-chan should be retrieving the lab right about now.”

“Oh, right!” Kohaku exclaimed, lightly smacking her fist into her palm. “But wouldn’t the islanders recognize it’s a tiny home?”

“That’s why I made a camouflage cover for the lab,” Senku explained, scanning the surrounding area. “It was originally meant to protect us from wild animals, but now we’re using it to disguise the mobile lab as a beast. I’m confident Suika already picked up on that.”

He narrowed his eyes at the cliffside.

“And I think it’s time we made our way back up.”

Senku grabbed the telescope in one hand and Gen’s in the other, leading the others toward the path they’d used earlier when chasing after Kohaku.

“Why? Shouldn’t we wait for them here?” Amaryllis asked as she followed behind.

“You’ll see,” Senku said with a breathy huff. “The mobile lab works on both land and water. Their first instinct will be to head up into the forest to hide. Since Ginro spotted us earlier, he’ll guide Suika in our direction.”

Just then, shouts and startled yelps erupted from the Perseus.

“But we left our spot—how will they know where we went?” Amaryllis asked, growing nervous as they reached the top of the cliff.

“They’ll see us on the way,” Senku replied, a confident grin tugging at his lips.

From their new vantage point, they turned and looked back toward the Perseus. A group of warriors had gathered near the center of the deck. Just as they bunched together, the floor beneath them shifted causing them all to leap back in shock.

From the hidden space below, the lab emerged, now completely covered in green camouflage that resembled dense foliage. To the islanders, it looked like some kind of beast springing to life.

The mobile lab zipped down the lowered boarding ramp and skidded into the water. The person at the controls didn’t hesitate—they floored it, sending up a spray of seawater behind them.

“Alright, get ready to run,” Senku said, tucking the telescope into the small bag strapped around his waist. With a secure grip on his mate’s hand, he took off toward the forest, leading them away from the cliffside. Gen let himself be pulled along, glancing over his shoulder as they moved.

Soyuz and Amaryllis ran behind them, while Kohaku stayed close, also looking back. Gen noticed that the blonde beta had finally snapped the ropes that had been holding the slit of her dress together. The soft hum of the engine grew louder behind them.

Senku led them off to the side just in time, and the mobile lab skidded to a stop up ahead, camouflaged tarp still clinging to its frame.

Senku let out a light chuckle and gave Gen’s hand another tug. “Come on, our ride’s here.”

Gen smiled, squeezing his mate’s hand in return. “Finally, we can get out of here~”

Senku climbed up the small steps, threw open the door, and held out a hand to help Gen inside. Once Gen was safely in, the two made their way toward the driver’s seat, where Suika and Ginro were waiting.

Senku immediately ruffled Suika’s hair with a proud grin. “Nicely done.”

“I’m proud of you,” Gen added, standing beside him. He leaned forward over the seat and gently wiped the sweat off Suika’s cheek using the long sleeve of his purple overcoat. “I know it must’ve been scary.”

Suika giggled, grinning brightly as she relaxed under their praise. “I was scared… but I knew you guys were counting on me—and Ginro too!” She shifted excitedly and turned around to face the group. “Did I do a good job?”

“Ten billion percent,” Senku said, his hand still buried in her hair as he gave it another affectionate ruffle.

Gen tenderly rubbed his thumb along her cheek, a soft smile on his face. “Without a doubt, my dear Suika-chan.”

Ginro burst into tears the moment he laid eyes on them. His sobs only grew louder when he spotted Kohaku and Soyuz.

“Shenku! Geeenn! Kohakuuu! I thought I was gonna dieee!”

His arms reached out with grabby hands, the poor beta desperate for comfort. “I was so scared… they got Kinro and everyone!”

Without hesitation, Ginro stumbled forward and threw himself into Gen’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Gen blinked but patted the beta’s back gently, soothing him like a child.

“And that creepy old alpha guy!” Ginro wailed. “I thought he saw me through the cracks—I almost peed myself!”

“There, there…” Gen murmured softly, rubbing slow circles on his back. One would expect Suika to need comfort, but clearly, Ginro had taken the cake.

Senku, standing nearby with his hands on his hips, stared at the sobbing beta, unimpressed. “You’re fine. If they’d actually spotted you, they would’ve petrified you or taken you hostage.”

Ginro squeaked, trembling harder in Gen’s arms. “That doesn’t make it any better! You’re heartless, Senku!”

“Alright, alright, stop acting like a big baby and let Gen breathe.” Kohaku reached over, grabbed the back of Ginro’s collar, and effortlessly yanked him away from the omega’s embrace.

Gen let his arms fall to his sides and exchanged a knowing look with Senku.

Senku rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “I wasn’t expecting much, but I’ve got to admit—you surprised me. Thanks to you two, we’ve got the lab.”

He looked directly at Ginro, who sniffled but stood a bit taller.

“We’ll get everyone back,” Senku continued, voice firm. “We’ll revive them all.”

Ginro’s eyes shimmered with hope. If anyone could do it, it was Senku. He wiped his face and gave a shaky but determined nod.

“What’s our plan?”

Since they were being followed, Senku came up with a genius idea: combine jasmine flowers with rotten shellfish and heat them up to release a scent so foul it could only be described as poop. If they were going to sell the illusion that the mobile lab was a beast, they might as well go all out, right?

Gen would’ve normally been on board with the theatricality of it all but the moment the stench hit his nose, he gagged so hard he nearly keeled over. He wanted nothing to do with his mate or his little science experiment.

Clutching his sleeve to his face, Gen desperately tried to block out the rancid odor, but it was like the stench had permanently embedded itself into the back of his nose. Groaning, he shuffled toward the rear of the mobile lab, his complexion several shades paler than usual.

He wasn’t the only one suffering. Kohaku and Amaryllis were both pinching their noses, grimacing, but it was clear Gen had drawn the shortest straw. His reaction was ten times worse.

Suika had stuck to his side the entire time, her expression scrunched with concern. She kept looking up at him like she wanted to help somehow.

“I’m okay, Suika-chan,” Gen reassured her with a weak smile, voice muffled behind his sleeve. “Just… go back to steering us to safety, alright?”

The little pup hesitated but nodded and scurried off toward the front.

Gen braced himself and groaned quietly. “All I have to do is make one fart sound,” he muttered under his breath, “sell the illusion that our ‘beast’ is pooping… get a quick whiff of fresh air in the process… and then we’re gone.”

He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to settle, just long enough to deliver a realistic fart.

This was the dumbest mission in history… and of course, it had to happen while he was nauseous.

As soon as Gen did his part—delivering the most unflattering fart sound of his career—Suika floored it. The mobile lab lurched forward, picking up speed as they fled deeper into the forest. Gen had no idea how far ahead they’d gone or how much distance they’d put between themselves and the warriors, but at that moment, none of it mattered.

He needed to get out of the lab.

The stench still clung to the walls like a living thing, and if they didn’t air it out soon, whatever dinner had been hours ago was going to reappear on the floor and Gen was positive it wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

Senku had been keeping an eye on him from the corner of his vision. The moment he saw his mate pale and swaying slightly, a small wave of guilt washed through him.

“Suika,” Senku called out, “bring us to a stop.”

Once they were sure the warriors were no longer in sight, Senku ushered everyone out of the lab. Gen didn’t wait. He was the first one out, practically stumbling into the fresh air.

He took in a deep breath through his nose and exhaled shakily through parted lips. Don’t throw up, he told himself. Just breathe. You’re okay.

He began pacing, rubbing his hands over his arms before switching to fanning his face with both palms. His breath hitched in uneven waves as he tried to distract himself—focus, focus.

“O-Okay, okay…” Gen muttered under his breath. “We need to—uh—create fake… ugh—fake tracks. Lead them astray.”

Amaryllis appeared silently at his side, placing a soothing hand on his back and rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades.

“Need two—” Gen pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, pausing, eyes squinting against the building nausea. He rotated his wrist with the other, trying to organize his thoughts. “Two people to create… fake tire tracks…”

He slowly dropped his hand to his stomach, rubbing gentle circles as he exhaled. The other hand pushed up against his forehead, then raked through his hair as he fought to keep his focus.

“And another two to… cover… our original ones…”

Kohaku crossed her arms and shot Senku a disapproving look. “This is your fault.”

“Poor Gen…” Suika frowned, brows pinched with worry.

“Yeah, that smell is disgusting.” Ginro gave Senku a side-eye full of betrayal.

“I left the door open to let the bad air out,” Soyuz offered helpfully, hoping to lighten the mood.

“It was necessary,” Senku said flatly, though his expression twitched at the judgment being thrown his way. “I didn’t think it was that bad…” He tossed two brooms toward the group—one landing at Ginro’s feet, the other in Soyuz’s hands. “Get to work and follow the mentalist’s orders.”

Soyuz obediently began sweeping the area, working to erase the tire tracks they’d left behind. Ginro grumbled as he bent to pick up the broom.

“You were the only one with nose plugs,” he muttered, glaring at the back of the alpha’s head.

Suika and Kohaku exchanged a look, shrugged, and got to work creating the fake tracks. Meanwhile, Senku approached Gen, concern creasing his features.

Amaryllis perked up at the sound of his footsteps and turned toward him.

“Ah, Senku.” She smiled, though it wavered a bit. “You really should take it easy with all the weird smells around Gen. He doesn’t look too good right now.”

“‘M fine,” Gen slurred slightly, slouching forward. He waved a hand weakly through the air as if to shoo her concern away. “Just… this particular one was rather asty-nay…”

Amaryllis pouted. “Still. That doesn’t excuse your mate. He should be more aware of your condition…”

“This was a one-time thing,” Senku said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I can assure you I have no plans to replicate the scent of poop again anytime soon.”

Gen chuckled softly despite himself. “Unless another situation calls for it…”

“Bingo.” Senku smirked.

“Once we’re done here, I can show you the way to a secret cave only my village knows about,” Amaryllis said as she took a step back, giving Senku space to move closer to his mate. “It’ll make a perfect hiding spot—they won’t find us there.”

With that, she turned and walked over to the girls, helping them stomp down more tire tracks.

Senku immediately placed a hand on Gen’s back, that worried crease returning to his brow. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Was the smell really that bad?”

He reached out, hand halfway to Gen’s forehead when the omega gently caught his wrist and lowered it, chuckling awkwardly with a wry smile.

“I love you, Senku-chan,” Gen said, voice light but strained, “but if you want to hug me, touch me, or even be near me… please wash yourself first. The smell still lingers on you—especially your hands.”

Senku froze, lips pressing into a thin line. “I didn’t exactly have time to whip out gloves, and where are we supposed to find a pool of water around here?”

“I’m sure Amaryllis-chan knows plenty of locations,” Gen replied without hesitation.

Senku frowned slightly, clearly sulking. “You know you’re making an impossible request…”

“I think it’s reasonable,” Gen huffed, jutting out his bottom lip.

Senku stared at him, from those bright, tired eyes down to the pout. Gen looked pale—worn out. He sighed in surrender.

“Fine. I’ll ask Amaryllis,” he said, then leaned forward and rested his forehead against Gen’s. “Is this okay?”

Gen blinked and scoffed softly. “The smell’s more concentrated around your hands, so yes… this is more than okay.”

“Good.” Senku pulled his hands out of Gen’s grasp and tucked them behind his back, careful not to let them brush against his tunic. He leaned in and gave Gen a soft peck on the lips before pulling away.

“If you’re still feeling nauseous,” he added, already back in problem-solving mode, “I can whip up something in the lab quickly.”

Gen leaned after him, following the kiss instinctively, then pouted when he caught the teasing glint in Senku’s eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

After they agreed the fake tracks looked convincing and the originals were completely obscured, the group decided to move on. Gen, feeling slightly better, climbed back into the mobile lab and took over the controls. With Amaryllis guiding him, it wasn’t long before they arrived at their destination:

The Sapphire Cave.

True to its name, the cave shimmered with a blue glow. The walls sparkled faintly with mineral veins, and the water reflected the light like a sea of sapphires.

It reminded Gen of the Blue Grotto in Italy—a place he had only ever seen in photos and videos before the world turned to stone. A part of him briefly wondered if that cave still existed, or if time and erosion had long swallowed it.

The Sapphire Cave was unexpectedly spacious, with a patch of flat land just large enough to set up camp and park the mobile lab. The water, though mostly shallow, deepened as it neared the entrance, cloaking their location in a natural shield of beauty and mystery.

Gen eyed the shimmering water and then glanced over at Senku. The alpha immediately understood what was on his mind.

“We’ll set up camp here,” Senku said, gesturing ahead toward a flat, dry spot near the cave wall. “Build the tents over there. I made sure to stash emergency supplies in the lab just in case. There’s a side compartment with a handle—you can’t miss it. I packed four tents in there… and there should be at least three bedrolls.”

“Yes!” Kohaku cheered as she darted inside the mobile lab. She returned moments later with four packed tents in her arms and tossed two toward Soyuz, who caught them effortlessly. “Suika, you’re rooming with me. You too, Amaryllis!”

“Just three bedrolls?” Ginro crossed his arms in a huff.

Senku gave him a dry look. “They’re large enough to fit two people. The tents aren’t huge, so unless you want to sleep on the rocky floor, you’ll have to share.”

“I’d rather sleep in the lab,” Ginro muttered.

“And risk knocking over my equipment? Hard pass,” Senku replied flatly.

“Ooh! There’s blankets in here too!” Suika called from inside the lab. “No pillows, though, but that’s okay!”

“Aw…” Ginro slumped a little, but quickly straightened up when he noticed Kohaku’s glare. “Let me help you out, Soyuz!”

The group—Kohaku, Suika, Amaryllis, Ginro, and Soyuz—set to work pitching the tents, their cheerful chatter echoing softly through the cavern.

Back by the mobile lab, Gen leaned closer to Senku with a pleased smile. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you plan ahead?”

Senku chuckled. “Hmm, can’t say I remember. But please, do go on. Sing my praises.”

“Senku-chan is truly the best~” Gen winked, then flashed a cheeky grin. “You know, since we have a perfectly good body of water here… I’d say now’s as good a time as any.”

Without warning, Gen went behind Senku and began nudging him toward the sparkling pool. “I know it’s late, but at least wash your hands—and maybe your straps? We’ll worry about actual bath schedules in the morning. Honestly, I have no idea what time it even is…”

“Around 1 a.m.,” Senku replied, already giving in to his mate’s request. He pulled out a small bar of soap from one of the pouches on his belt.

“We’ll rest here for the night. Maybe set up a watch rotation—just to be safe. In the morning, we’ll kick off the infiltration project, and I’ll figure out how to set up a more private bathing area.”

Senku crouched down by the water’s edge, and Gen followed his lead. The omega watched as his mate removed the straps from his arms and soaked them in the clear pool before lathering his hands thoroughly with soap.

Noticing the methodical rhythm of Senku’s scrubbing, Gen reached over with a soft hum and took the straps and bar of soap from him. “Here, let me help,” he said gently, rolling up his sleeves. He began to clean the straps with practiced hands, careful not to wrinkle the fabric.

“I’ve noticed this island has coconuts,” Senku said after a moment, breaking the peaceful silence. “I spotted some when we were at Amaryllis’s village.”

Gen perked up immediately, eyes bright. “eally-ray?”

Senku smirked at the omega’s excitement and gave a small nod. “If Amaryllis can gather enough, I should be able to make shampoo and conditioner. Maybe some other basics too.”

Gen beamed, visibly pleased by the idea. He rinsed the straps once more, then wrung them out carefully until no droplets remained. Smoothing them flat, he checked one last time for any lingering odor.

Senku shook out his hands and let them air dry.

Off in the distance, Kohaku’s voice echoed across the cave. “Senku! Gen!”

The couple turned to see her standing by a small fire pit, gesturing toward the flickering flames. She mouthed, Is it okay?

Senku glanced from the fire to the cave’s entrance, gauging the light and safety. After a pause, he gave a nod of approval. The others gave a small cheer in response.

“Come on,” Senku said, gesturing back toward the group. “We can set the straps by the fire to dry.”

Gen wrapped the soap in a cloth and tucked it neatly into the pouch on Senku’s belt. He gathered the damp straps and walked alongside his mate, their shoulders brushing.

When they rejoined the others, the tent situation had already been decided: the girls—Kohaku, Suika, and Amaryllis—claimed the middle tent. Soyuz and a very reluctant Ginro took the tent on the left, leaving the right-side tent for Senku and Gen. The fourth tent, still in its bag, was left unused for now.

Senku suggested establishing a watch rotation, and the others readily agreed. Soyuz volunteered to take the first shift, prompting Kohaku to assign Ginro as his partner. As expected, Ginro grumbled, but one stern look from Kohaku was enough to silence his protest. They agreed to rotate every four hours—Kohaku and Amaryllis would take the next shift, with Senku planning to relieve them afterward to begin preparations for the day.

Gen immediately offered to wake up with him, but Senku firmly declined. He wanted his mate to get as much rest as possible.

The omega began to protest, but one gentle look from Senku was all it took to make Gen fall silent. One by one, everyone settled into their tents—everyone except Soyuz and Ginro, who remained on watch.

As Gen lay on his side beside Senku, the weight of the day finally caught up with him. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes droopy with exhaustion. It wasn’t until Senku’s arms wrapped around him, warm and grounding, that Gen finally surrendered to sleep.

________

September 11th, 5741 AD

After everyone got their much-needed rest, they gathered to make breakfast using whatever Amaryllis had brought back from her village. It wasn’t much, but they were grateful all the same. Senku, however, lit up with excitement the moment he laid eyes on the fruits she’d returned with and immediately got to work.

With a detailed roadmap drawn on the ground by Senku, the group helped wherever their scientific leader pointed. Gen, as always, supported his mate without question.

Cheers erupted when they finally acquired shampoo and conditioner—none more enthusiastic than Gen. The villagers were thrilled by the introduction of these new products. Kohaku’s haircare journey, in particular, was quite the spectacle. True to her nickname “Lioness,” her hair sprang into a wild, untamed mane the moment she let it loose.

Next came cosmetics. Gen happily explained what each product was for, prompting Amaryllis to express her own desire to try them. Gen couldn’t help but agree with her enthusiasm.

All eyes turned to Kohaku when she picked up a lipstick and makeup brush with the same fierce glint she usually reserved for her daggers. With a deadly gleam in her eyes, she declared, “I’ve got this,” then turned away and got to work.

Everyone watched with bated breath, waiting for her to turn around and reveal the results.

Both Suika and Soyuz screamed in horror, while Ginro was too stunned to speak—tears streaming down his cheeks. Gen sighed, covering his face with his hands. Honestly, he couldn’t say he was surprised by the outcome.

Senku visibly cringed at the sight as Amaryllis stormed over and snatched the makeup products out of Kohaku’s hands.

“Okay, yeah. This isn’t going to work,” she muttered.

Gen immediately stepped in, grabbing a cloth and wetting it. He began wiping Kohaku’s face despite her loud protests.

“Stop moving. This is for your own good. You look like some kind of monster straight out of a horror game,” Gen said flatly.

“What are you talking about? I think I look good!” Kohaku grunted, trying to twist away.

“No, what are you talking about?!” Ginro shrieked, pointing at her like she’d committed a war crime. “Thanks to you, I’m scarred for life! I’m going to have nightmares now!”

“We can still fix it, right?” Suika asked, tilting her head up at Senku.

Senku patted the top of her helmet reassuringly. “Yeah. This shouldn’t be difficult. The mentalist can handle it.”

“Let me give it a try,” Amaryllis offered, stepping toward Gen and Kohaku. Kohaku immediately latched onto Gen’s wrist—the one holding the cloth—and looked toward the incoming omega with wary eyes.

Amaryllis noted her now-cleansed face. A blank canvas. Perfect.

Gen, sensing danger, used his free hand to pinch Kohaku’s nose and leapt backward just in time to dodge the swipe aimed at his head. “She’s all yours~” he sang.

“Get back here, you—!” Kohaku growled, lunging after him.

Amaryllis quickly stepped between them, placing a hand on Kohaku’s shoulder and gently but firmly guiding her to sit down. With professional grace, she immediately got to work.

The results were much better than what Kohaku had done. Amaryllis was a natural when it came to makeup. Kohaku no longer looked like the wild warrior beta they all knew—now, she appeared soft, delicate. A perfect candidate for the harem.

While the brown-haired omega looked at her proudly, Suika stood in awe of Kohaku’s transformation. Ginro turned away, dejected, muttering something about how it made sense—Kohaku is Ruri’s sister, after all.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we had more people infiltrating with them?” Soyuz asked, glancing at the scientist.

Senku wore a contemplative look.

“That’s right, you guys mentioned they prefer betas and omegas,” Ginro added, then gestured toward Gen. “Gen’s the perfect choice! He’s an omega and I bet he could get that petrification device by the end of the day!”

A spike of unease surged through Gen. His body tensed as yesterday’s conversation came rushing back—about what happened to bonded omegas. How the bond was forcibly severed. How expecting mothers had their pregnancies terminated. His stomach twisted.

Amaryllis opened her mouth to shut the idea down, but Kohaku cut her off with a mischievous grin, eyes locking onto the bi-colored-haired omega.

“Hmph. This is the perfect chance for me to doll you up, Gen!” she said, cracking her knuckles. “Amaryllis, hand me that lipstick.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Amaryllis began. The brown-haired omega definitely didn’t want Gen anywhere near the palace. It was far too dangerous for a pregnant omega.

“While we’re at it, let’s give the rest of you a makeover, too!” Kohaku added, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Amaryllis-chan said the Master’s preferences lean more toward female-presenting betas and omegas…” Gen said nervously, visibly shrinking under Kohaku’s fired-up gaze.

“Exactly,” Kohaku replied, grinning wide. “Which is why you’ll dress and look the part.”

“Calm down, lioness,” Senku finally said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Kohaku snapped her head toward him. “You’ll be first.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed him by the arm. “Come on, Amaryllis—time’s wasting!”

The poor brown-haired omega reluctantly followed after the determined beta, but glanced over her shoulder at Gen with clear hesitation.

Gen watched, momentarily stunned, as Kohaku dragged his mate away. He quickly snapped out of it and rushed after them as Senku protested, grunting in resistance.

“This isn’t necessary! We need Senku-chan here!” Gen called out, reaching for the alpha’s wrist. He turned a pointed look toward the blonde beta. “If we’re going to be scheming and plotting their downfall, don’t you think we need our brilliant scientist leading the charge from HQ?”

Without waiting for a response, Gen pried Kohaku’s grip off Senku’s arm and pulled the alpha protectively behind him. He crossed his arms, standing firmly between Kohaku and his mate.

“As much as I’d love to see Senku-chan in full glam,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “they’ll notice he’s an alpha immediately. Same goes for Soyuz-chan. So no, they can’t be the ones to infiltrate the palace with you.”

“That leaves you and Ginro,” Kohaku said, placing a hand on her hip.

“Hey!” Ginro shouted in protest.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Gen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re only doing this because I pissed you off earlier, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” Kohaku chirped cheerfully. “Nice to know we’re on the same page.”

With that, she grabbed Gen by the arm and disappeared with him into the lab.

Amaryllis stared after them, worry etched into her face. She glanced toward Senku.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Gen to be part of this infiltration,” she said to the alpha quietly. “I have no doubt he can pull off the look, but it’s simply too dangerous. Too risky for him.”

Senku rubbed the back of his head, a low sigh escaping him as his expression twisted with tension. “I agree with you. My instincts are practically screaming no. But at the end of the day… it’s up to the mentalist to decide.”

“No! You don’t understand.” Amaryllis shook her head, urgency breaking through her usual calm. There was a kind of fear in her voice Senku wasn’t used to hearing. “Back at the cliffs, remember when I stopped you two from interfering between Kohaku and Kirisame?”

Senku nodded, eyes sharpening. “Yeah.”

“Listen,” Amaryllis began, her voice low but serious. “As I told you before, male omegas on this island are extremely rare. The last one born was decades ago and none have presented as omega since then.”

Senku’s brows furrowed. His frown deepened.

“If we’d gone along with Gen’s plan yesterday,” Amaryllis continued, “and if Kirisame’s eyes had landed on him… it would’ve been a disaster.”

Senku straightened, posture going rigid. His crimson eyes glinted, the calm in him turning cold and calculating. The pieces clicked together fast in his mind.

“You’re saying… that woman would’ve taken my mate away?” he asked, voice like sharpened glass.

The tone made a chill race down Amaryllis’ spine.

She clenched her jaw and nodded. “Her loyalty to Master is absolute. If she had caught even a whiff of Gen’s scent, she would’ve taken him on the spot. Presented him directly to the Minister Ibara. And Minister Ibara—he’d be delighted by the discovery… but also disappointed that Gen is already bonded. They don’t care if an omega is married, bonded, or expecting a child. They’ll find a way to erase all traces of it.”

Senku’s eyes darkened, blank with rage, but the murderous intent behind them was unmistakable. He said nothing—but his scent spiked and his jaw clenched, and that alone was enough to make Amaryllis regret even bringing it up.

“Geez… what did you say to get him acting like that?” Kohaku asked wryly, approaching them again.

Amaryllis turned quickly, visibly relieved. “Kohaku—where’s Gen?”

“In the lab,” she replied, casually jabbing a finger in that direction. “He kicked me out when it was time for him to change.”

“Kohaku,” Senku spoke coolly, voice void of emotion, “Gen’s not going with you. He’s staying here. I’ll need his help in the lab—and since he’s the only modern man around with knowledge from my time…”

“Just say you don’t want to be separated from your mate,” Kohaku cut in with a bored expression. “Might save us all the long-winded explanation.”

“I don’t want any of them near Gen,” Senku said, the steel in his voice leaving no room for argument.

It wasn’t loud—but the conviction behind it had Kohaku pausing, her mouth snapping shut as the air around them seemed to tighten with unspoken warning.

Back in the lab, Gen stood in silence, eyeing the clothes in his hands. Kohaku had tried to apply makeup on him earlier, but he’d immediately shut that down and done it himself—much to her surprise. She’d watched with mild awe as he worked, clearly not expecting such skill. Then she picked out a skirt and top—one styled similarly to his usual undershirt—and shoved them into his arms, insisting he change.

Gen, however, had promptly told her he wasn’t comfortable with her staring at him with such anticipation. Then he’d kicked her out.

Now alone, he stripped off his clothes and was just about to slip into the skirt when something caught his eye.

His stomach.

For a moment—maybe longer—Gen stood frozen, staring down at his midsection. It wasn’t exactly different, but something about it felt… off. A subtle change. Softer. Not as toned as it had been just a few weeks ago. He’d noticed his appetite growing lately, but had chalked it up to stress.

He pressed a finger against his abdomen, watching the skin dip slightly under the pressure.

A sigh slipped from his lips.

Am I gaining weight?

Groaning, Gen dropped his face into his hands.

“Maybe I need to lay off the carbs…” he muttered.

But the mere thought of having to hold himself back from Francois’ delicious food pained him.

He was conflicted. Yes, he was probably gaining weight but the food had been so good lately. Not to mention, he’d been ravenous. Every few hours, his stomach would growl like clockwork. Breakfast earlier hadn’t done nearly enough. He appreciated Amaryllis bringing fruit, of course, but fruit alone wasn’t cutting it anymore. Not when his cravings had gotten this bad.

He still had a bit of trail mix tucked away, which he’d been nibbling on all morning but now he was almost out. He sighed, shaking his head, and started pulling on the outfit Kohaku had handed him.

Just as he tugged the soft shirt down over his torso, his stomach let out another low growl.

Gen placed a hand over it, frowning.

“I’m hungry…” he whispered under his breath.

From the corner of his eye, something caught his attention.

Bread.

Two small, round loaves sat nearby—firm and squishy. The ones Kohaku had prepared for his disguise. They were meant to go under his shirt, to fake the look of full omega curves.

Gen picked them up, one in each hand, and stared.

He knew what they were for. He did. But they looked… really good.

“If I nibble just a little around the edges, no one will notice… right?” he mumbled to himself. The loaves were circular—perfect, really. And if he was careful to maintain the shape, it’d still work. Maybe.

It was a perfect plan.

Like a moth to a flame, Gen lifted one loaf to his lips, his mouth already parting. The other loaf was cradled delicately in his opposite hand, as if it were some kind of sacred offering.

But then—

No!

His teeth clenched, and he forced the bread away from his mouth.

I said I’d cut down on carbs! he scolded himself silently.

With a huff, Gen stuffed the bread inside his shirt where it belonged. He patted at them, adjusting the placement until it looked convincingly natural. The illusion was intact. But he still mourned what could have been.

He sighed again and opened the lab door, stepping out and descending the small steps.

Francois-chan… we need Francois-chan…

Gen bit his lip and lightly cupped his stomach. It gave a soft, fluttering rumble beneath his palm. He’d definitely been hungrier than usual lately. Sleepier, too. His scent had even started shifting—subtly, but noticeably. He knew it wasn’t just in his head. Senku had been more… attentive lately, but Gen chalked it up to them being a newly bonded pair. He hadn’t given it much thought beyond that.

He’d spoken to Ukyo about it once. His omega friend had explained that every bond was different—some pairs grew clingier, others more instinctive or scent-driven. So Gen didn’t think much of it. He’d convinced himself this was normal.

But still—there was something in the way Amaryllis looked at him sometimes. Not unkindly, but with a quiet sort of knowing. It made him feel strangely exposed.

Still, he brushed the thoughts aside. There were more pressing matters—like recovering their culinary savior.

The omega scanned the camp and quickly found them: Senku, Kohaku, and Amaryllis were huddled together in hushed conversation. A short distance away, Soyuz and Suika were staring at Ginro, who was shaking his head furiously, lips tight in protest.

Gen approached the group, looking a bit dejected, and muttered, “I think it’s a pretty good time to start retrieving everyone’s statues… Let’s start with our dear Francois-chan.”

“Gen, you look amazing! The perfect candidate! Great idea—I’ll do that instead!” Ginro beamed and shot him a thumbs-up.

Suika squealed with delight, the little pup circling Gen in awe. “You look so pretty! Not that you’re not! I mean you’re always pretty, but—!”

Gen chuckled and gently patted her helmet. “I think you’re prettier, my dear.”

“It’s crazy how easily you can pull this off…” Kohaku said wryly, eyeing him from head to toe.

“This is nothing~” Gen replied with a dramatic flourish, his voice lilting into a pitch-perfect feminine tone. Mimicry and cross-dressing weren’t new territory for him. “I could easily pass but…”

“He sounds just like a girl!” Amaryllis gasped.

“Gen was always kind of dainty, and he’s an omega,” Kohaku laughed. “His body already has all the right proportions.” She slapped Senku on the back, making the alpha stumble forward. “Our chief can vouch for us—he’s seen it all already.”

Senku let out a low growl. “Like I’d confirm anything with any of you—or anyone, for that matter!”

“There’s not much to confirm when the outfit already hugs him like a second skin,” Kohaku teased, flashing a sharp grin toward the alpha.

Senku shot her a warning glare. Kohaku raised her hands in surrender with an exaggerated sigh.

“But unfortunately for you, Gen, you’re too tall to pass as one of the candidates.”

Gen raised a brow, but only shrugged. Honestly, that was good news. He hadn’t intended to infiltrate—not after what Amaryllis told them about bonded omegas. He placed a hand on his hip as his stomach gave another audible grumble. That just meant he could finally eat the two small loaves of bread tucked into his shirt.

He smiled to himself. “Having Ginro-chan go along was the plan from the start.”

“WHAT?” Ginro screeched, flailing his arms. “NO. NO!”

He stomped over to the omega, making wild gestures. “Why does it have to be me?!” His eyes darted desperately between Soyuz and Suika. “Can’t—”

Gen’s demeanor shifted in an instant. He narrowed his eyes at the beta, voice dropping with icy precision. “If you were about to suggest that our sweet little Suika-chan go in your place…” His smile turned razor-sharp. “I’ll chop your body into little pieces and feed them to the fishes. Okay?”

“I WASN’T! I SWEAR!” Ginro squealed in terror, waving his hands in surrender. “I think—I think I’m more useful here! Helping Senku with science!”

Gen relaxed again, his smile returning like sunlight through clouds. He patted Ginro’s shoulder and gently guided him toward the girls.

“Ginro-chan, they need you just as much. This is something only you can do. Your fighting skills are… well, their something and they’ll be critical. You’re not just helping us. You’re helping all the girls still trapped in the harem.”

“Oh! You’ll be some kind of hero, Ginro!” Suika added brightly.

“Hero?” Ginro echoed, blinking. He looked off into the distance, clearly imagining something overly dramatic.

Gen motioned subtly to Amaryllis and Kohaku, passing the baton.

“Ahem. Well,” Ginro puffed out his chest, “since you asked nicely, I guess I could do this favor for you~!”

They all watched as the trio disappeared behind the closed door to the lab. From within, they could hear Ginro protesting—loudly—and Kohaku’s voice snapping right back at him. After a few more moments of muffled arguing, the door slammed open.

A very feminine-looking Ginro emerged, grumbling as he trailed behind the two girls. His makeup was just a little too well done, and his hair didn’t help his sour mood.

“Okay, now that we’re splitting into teams,” Senku spoke up, tone crisp and direct, “you three should start heading back to Amaryllis’ village. We’ve reached midday—right on schedule.”

“Is it too late to wish they’d cancel this whole selection process?” Ginro asked mournfully, hugging himself.

“They won’t,” Amaryllis replied, shaking her head. “Especially not Moz. He wouldn’t allow it.”

“Who’s Moz?” Ginro asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Moz is another warrior on the island, considered the strongest. He’s an alpha too, but unlike Minister Ibara, he’s more laid-back. He doesn’t stress or overthink much.” She paused. “The only thing Moz cares about is cute betas and omegas.”

“The strongest?” Ginro groaned. “Oh no, is this another Tsukasa guy?!”

“Tsuka—who?” Amaryllis blinked, puzzled.

“It’s a long story,” Gen stepped in with a graceful wave of his hand. “Foe turned friend. Very tall. Very strong. Very dramatic.”

“He’s one of the reasons we need the petrification device,” Kohaku added. “We want to save him and reunite him with his little sister.”

“Well,” Senku interjected, “our Tarzan friend is going to have to sit tight. We’ve got a long to-do list before we can think about reviving anyone. First, we need to locate the Soyuz capsule and get our hands on platinum to kickstart the revival fluid. And second—we steal the petrification device.”

He paused, his tone growing more serious. “I know this mission won’t be easy. That’s why I prepared a few things for you earlier this morning.”

Gen stood quietly by his side, watching with a small smile as his mate explained everything in crisp detail. There was something calming about hearing that confident, logical voice. Something grounding.

Once the group had left Sapphire Cave, with Soyuz rowing the boat to escort them back, only Senku, Gen, and Suika remained behind.

The moment they were alone, Gen pulled out one of the small loaves of bread and immediately began eating. Carbs be damned—he was too hungry to care. His stomach had been growling at him all morning, and the hunger was only getting worse.

“All right,” Senku said as he approached the mobile lab, “I already started making the earpiece—I just need to add the finishing touches.”

Gen and Suika followed behind him.

“An earpiece?” Suika tilted her head curiously.

Senku climbed up into the lab and began rummaging through the shelves, looking for copper wire. “I designed it to look like an earring so it won’t draw suspicion. With this, we can communicate during the infiltration—but it only works one way. They’ll hear us, but we won’t hear them respond.”

He spotted what he needed and snatched it up.

Gen’s voice came out slightly muffled. “A scientific earring…”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Senku replied casually. But when he glanced out through the wide-open door, he paused.

Gen stood just outside, his cheeks stuffed full of bread.

Senku blinked. “Gen…”

Gen swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You…” The alpha hesitated.

Gen frowned and clutched the remaining loaf—still stuffed into his shirt for disguise—with one hand, while finishing off the last bite of the other. “I’m not sharing.”

Senku blinked again. “I can see that.”

“You can’t blame me! I’m starving,” Gen whined. “Breakfast wasn’t enough. I mean, I’m so thankful Amaryllis-chan brought fruit, but I wasn’t satisfied. I’m almost out of my snack pouch, too! And it’s lunchtime—”

“Okay, okay, breathe,” Senku said quickly, hopping down from the lab and approaching his mate. He released a wave of calming pheromones in the omega’s direction, trying to soothe him.

“Once Soyuz gets back, we’ll head out. Maybe we’ll catch something along the way. Might have to stick to eating fish in the meantime—”

Gen let out a strangled noise and suddenly covered his mouth, his expression twisting like he’d been slapped. “…I’m just going to get changed,” he muttered quickly, turning on his heel.

Senku wore a bewildered expression as he glanced down at Suika, who looked up at him with her head tilted curiously.

“Did he get sick of eating fish?” the pup asked.

Senku sighed and gave a small shrug, thinking back to the past few weeks—how often Gen praised the beta butler’s cooking. “Not exactly. I think the mentalist just got too used to Francois’ cooking. Now that we’re in this situation, we don’t have much to work with. No real ingredients to experiment with, and Amaryllis can’t help us gather more without risking exposure. So we’d have to get them ourselves… which isn’t exactly an option right now.”

Suika made a soft sound of realization, her eyes brightening behind the glass of her helmet.

“So that’s why Gen said we should revive Francois first,” she concluded adorably.

The fact that Gen’s mood had been dampened just by discovering they’d be stuck eating fish for the foreseeable future honestly baffled him. Logically, he knew it was stupid—there were far more important matters at hand. He shouldn’t be sad about something so trivial.

But here he was.

Gen could only hope the spy team found the Soyuz capsule soon so they could finally get their hands on the platinum and revive everyone.

To lighten the mood, they tossed the earpiece—disguised as an earring—at Kohaku, who caught it with ease. Right then and there, Gen decided to return the favor from earlier and demanded that the blonde beta strike a cute pose for them. Just to confirm the earpiece was working, of course.

That got him to laugh.

It lifted his mood, even if only briefly—until a sudden chill ran down his spine.

Kohaku would get her revenge for this. Gen knew it.

Senku soon declared that they’d need to make a drone to snatch the petrification weapon midair. Suika and Soyuz had no idea what a drone was—but Gen, a modern-timer, knew exactly what that entailed. And honestly? It impressed him.

The omega wasn’t even surprised anymore. The word impossible had never stopped Senku. He said it so confidently, like building a drone out of jungle scrap parts was just another Tuesday.

And Gen? He was both impressed and… a little turned on, if he were being honest. The way Senku explained how each part of the motor functioned, how it all worked together—

Well. That thought quickly fled his mind when another idea popped into his head.

A disguise.

“What if we made the motor look like a rat?”

A remote-controlled rat, to send back and forth between the spy team and the science team. It was a good plan. Everyone agreed.

What they didn’t expect, however, was to receive something so soon in return.

They all stared down at the ripped pink fabric of Kohaku’s dress, now marked up with drawings.

There was a drawing of what looked like a popsicle, a splattered blob, Hyoga, and an engine—arranged from top to bottom on the torn pink fabric.

Gen should’ve known this would turn into a game of Pictionary. After all, none of the spy team members could write. They’d have to deduce the message based purely on visuals and context. And for that, Gen knew he’d have to tap into the psychology of whoever drew it. Depending on the artist, it could be a huge clue.

“We have to put ourselves in the mind of the person who drew this,” Gen advised, glancing around the group. He could already tell his mate was struggling to make sense of it.

“Okay…” Senku muttered, dragging a finger slowly down the drawings. “Is this supposed to be a popsicle?”

No one had an answer.

Senku let out a frustrated huff and continued anyway. “Popsicle… Hyoga… Hyoga had a popsicle that melted from an engine? Huh. I didn’t realize the lioness and Hyoga got that close…”

“That clearly isn’t the intended message!” Gen groaned, massaging his temples. “She was his jailer for two years. I’d be more surprised if they didn’t interact, but that’s not what matters right now!”

Suika and Soyuz looked at him expectantly, eyes wide.

“Argh! I’m completely stumped…” Senku finally admitted, sounding genuinely strained. With a sigh, he yanked the fabric off the table and thrust it into Gen’s hands. His tone shifted immediately into something far too smug.

“Welp,” Senku said, smirking. “Good thing I’ve got my mate right here to solve the riddle for us.”

“Even Senku got stuck…” Suika gasped in awe.

“This should be a piece of cake for my mentalist,” Senku added, his smirk widening as Gen accepted the fabric, brow twitching.

“I expect to receive a huge reward for all my hard work in the end, Senku-chan…” Gen muttered sweetly, eyes fixed on the fabric as he examined the scribbled clues.

Senku let out a low chuckle—one that carried a mischievous undertone.

Gen raised his head at the sound, curious, only to find the alpha rubbing the back of his neck and tilting his head to the side with a lazy, almost taunting grin. Their eyes met, and Gen felt a jolt run through him as he noticed the shift in Senku’s gaze—his crimson eyes had darkened ever so slightly.

Then came the voice—teasing, husky.

“Your contributions will definitely be compensated, Mentalist. I’ve got something in mind… but you’ll have to wait.”

Gen’s breath hitched. His eyes widened just a touch, and before he could help it, his gaze darted away as heat rushed to his cheeks. His heart thudded wildly in his chest.

“I’m rather picky, so…” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Senku replied with an easy shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He was still watching his mate—clearly entertained by the flush that now bloomed on Gen’s cheeks.

“Hmph…” Gen bit the inside of his cheek, flustered, and quickly redirected his attention back to the task at hand, determined to hide the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the fabric.

Gen hadn’t meant it like that—but apparently, whatever Senku had in mind was definitely in that territory.

That alone was enough to make the omega immediately avert his gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Will we get rewarded too?” Suika chirped suddenly.

Just like that, Gen’s heart stopped its wild hammering.

His expression relaxed into a smile, and he gently patted the little pup’s helmet. “Of course! It’s only fair that Senku-chan compensates you, too. You could ask him to make you cotton candy or maybe… oh! Ice popsicles! Or snow cones!”

He tossed a pointed look over his shoulder at the alpha, a warning in his narrowed eyes. There was a child present. And Soyuz too.

Gen shifted his gaze briefly to the timid man and let out a small sigh of relief.

They were both blissfully unaware of the earlier implications.

Thank goodness.

Senku rolled his eyes and sighed before clearing his throat and smiling. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that when we’re done with all of this. Now start deciphering, Mentalist.”

Gen already knew—this wasn’t Ginro’s work. It had to be Kohaku. He needed to look at the drawing from her perspective.

Kohaku hadn’t taken any of the reading or writing classes offered in the Kingdom of Science. So it made perfect sense that she resorted to drawing, doing her best to convey what she meant through rushed, simple illustrations. They weren’t picture-perfect, but they were manageable.

Gen had been by her side since the beginning. He knew how Kohaku thought. Together, they’d seen and helped Senku with countless scientific projects and listened to every explanation and lecture. If Kohaku had drawn this, she had done so with scientific terms in mind. It was the only explanation.

And honestly? She couldn’t have made it any easier.

The omega smiled, lifting the fabric and explaining his conclusion to the group.

“Kohaku-chan couldn’t have made this any easier to understand. Think of these as scientific terms. The sounds of the words she’s using aren’t what the villagers are used to hearing.”

Senku took the fabric from his mate’s hands and squinted at the first image. “Well… if this isn’t a popsicle, then what is it? A scientific item… wait—it’s plastic!”

“Why would Kohaku need plastic at a time like this?” Suika asked, tapping her chin.

“I don’t think they need it,” Senku replied, shaking his head. “It might not be literal.”

“Let’s try using just the first syllable of each word,” Gen suggested. He lifted his arm in a familiar gesture, holding up his index and middle fingers in front of his forehead, brushing the tips against his fringe. “Let me borrow your pose, my dear~”

Senku’s mouth parted slightly as he watched Gen mimic his signature thinking posture. Those gray-blue eyes flickered with sharp focus. The omega looked radiant in that moment, utterly in his element.

Senku’s lips curled into a grin.

His chest felt light—no, thrilled. Something inside him buzzed with excitement.

This is exhilarating… his mind whispered. This is Gen.

Together, they pieced the clues together—each syllable, each visual cue—and arrived at the conclusion at the same time.

“The Soyuz spacecraft,” Gen whispered.

“They found the platinum,” Senku breathed.

Unable to stop himself, the alpha pulled Gen into a hug, pressing a firm kiss to the side of his head. His chest swelled with pride and affection. He couldn’t have done it without Gen.

“The spy team found it. They found the platinum,” Senku said, turning toward the others.

Suika let out a delighted cheer and jumped up and down, while Soyuz fist-pumped the air.

“With this,” Senku declared, voice strong and full of hope, “we’ll be able to revive every single member of the Kingdom of Science!”

It quickly became nightfall. They had all eaten dinner—grilled fish, much to Gen’s slight disappointment—but luckily, his mate had stashed some seasoning in the mobile lab. Gen didn’t ask why Senku had it, but he was grateful; it added just enough flavor to make the meal bearable. Thanks to Soyuz’s impressive fishing haul, everyone ate their fill.

After dinner, Senku immediately put everyone back to work. If the Soyuz spacecraft was in the same condition as Byakuya’s gravestone—untouched and sealed away—then it should still be intact. To get to it quietly, they’d need silent bombs. Gen still wasn’t convinced whether these were real or just another one of Senku’s mad science terms, but he didn’t question it. He simply watched his mate leap down from the mobile lab, arms outstretched as he posed dramatically. Suika copied him without hesitation.

Gen’s heart swelled at the sight.

Cute.

Everyone held their breath as Senku began mixing chemicals—white powder and a suspicious green liquid. Gen watched him closely, noting the telltale spark of excitement in his crimson eyes, the way he breathed heavier, practically buzzing.

He looked like a maniacal villain.

In the end, it turned out to be plaster.

Once they had made enough, it was time for bed. Soyuz offered to take first watch, but Senku waved him off. He reasoned that most of the attention would be focused on the palace now, and the cave was secluded enough that they could afford to rest. Tomorrow would be long and demanding.

Gen wasted no time curling up on his side, nestled close to Senku. He rested his head on the alpha’s chest while Senku lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. The alpha let out a soft, mischievous snicker, his chest vibrating beneath Gen’s cheek.

Gen sighed fondly. “Stop it with your villainous laugh—I can hear you scheming.”

“I can’t help it,” Senku replied, his snickering turning into a hushed, hearty laugh.

Just then, Gen’s ears twitched at the faint rustling outside their tent. He already knew who it was before a word was spoken. He sat up slightly and called out.

“What’s wrong, Suika-chan? You can come in—Senku-chan and I are still awake.”

Senku sat up as well, eyes drawn to the entrance flap lifting slightly. Suika poked her head in, her helmet nowhere in sight. She clutched a blanket tightly in both hands, eyes lowered to the ground.

“Is it okay if I sleep with you guys?” she asked shyly. “Kohaku isn’t here and… I don’t want to sleep alone. It’s okay if you say no!”

Senku and Gen shared a brief glance of understanding before smiling softly at one another. Without a word, Gen moved his blanket aside and gently patted the space beside him.

“You’re more than welcome to, Suika-chan,” he said warmly. “Which side do you want to sleep on?”

Suika beamed and looked between the two of them, carefully considering. Finally, she crawled in beside Gen, choosing the space that placed the omega in the middle.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No need to thank us, Suika. Come on, let’s get some sleep,” Senku said softly, his voice calm and low.

Once she settled in, Gen lay back down, this time turning to face Suika. His back now pressed lightly against Senku’s front, and the alpha instinctively wrapped an arm around Gen’s waist. The three of them huddled beneath the blankets, warmth spreading quietly between them.

Suika lay on her back, her own blanket pulled up to her chest as she stared up at the tent ceiling. Gen kept his eyes on her, watching her carefully.

“Kohaku-chan and the others will be fine. She’s strong, so she’ll protect them,” Gen said softly, hoping to ease Suika’s worries.

Suika tilted her head up at him. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Gen booped her nose and winked. “We’ll reunite with them and everyone else soon.”

“Promise?” Suika whispered.

Gen ran an index finger gently down the center of her forehead to the tip of her nose, repeating the motion with a featherlight touch as he watched it soothe her. Slowly, he released a wave of calming, comforting pheromones—warm and familiar, like safety and home. He hummed softly as her eyes began to droop.

“Promise,” he said.

“Mmkay…” Suika mumbled, her breathing evening out as she drifted into sleep. The soft rise and fall of her chest told Gen she was fully asleep. He let his hand fall to the side of his face.

The arm wrapped around Gen’s waist tightened slightly, drawing him closer. Senku buried his face into the crook of his mate’s neck, inhaling the scent released from Gen’s gland. Gen, growing drowsy himself, placed his hand over Senku’s, which rested on his stomach.

“What is it, my love?” Gen murmured sleepily, mindlessly tracing patterns with his thumb across Senku’s hand. He didn’t even realize he’d used a new term of endearment.

Senku exhaled a shaky breath, chest tightening with emotion. He’d watched the entire interaction between Gen and Suika in silence, countless emotions flickering in his heart—all of them warm. He thought back to what Amaryllis had said earlier, asking if Suika was their child.

Senku had never been one to dwell on dreams—but this one felt different. He could see it so clearly: a future where the world had been rebuilt, where children—his and Gen’s—ran freely through sunlight, tugging on their parents’ hands and demanding to be chased. Children who carried traces of both of them—his sharp gaze, Gen’s soft laugh.

“I love you,” Senku whispered, voice quiet and raw.

Gen giggled softly and replied in a sleepy murmur, “I love you too~”

Senku smiled against his mate’s skin, feeling the omega slip into sleep. The weight of exhaustion settled into his bones not long after.

In a distant future, if they had children, Senku’s only wish would be for them to meet their grandfather. He knew Byakuya would love them with all his heart.

But deep down, Senku knew that meeting was a dream that would never come. A possibility lost to time.

In a world where petrification hadn’t happened… maybe.

He let his eyes fall shut and surrendered to the pull of sleep.

__________

September 13th, 5741 AD

They had spent the entire day yesterday delivering materials to the spy team through the mini rat-mobiles so that Kohaku could use them to break the boulder. The science team waited the rest of the day, which eventually turned into the next.

Senku and Gen sat patiently, awaiting the return of Soyuz and Suika. The alpha noted that the motor wasn’t functioning as smoothly anymore, prompting him to bring up the need to revive their trusty craftsman, Kaseki. That soon led them into a discussion about who should be revived next—with priority in mind.

“Francois-chan for sure. We could use their skills… Ryusui-chan and Ukyo-chan too,” Gen said, glancing at the table where various items lay scattered.

Senku was busy tweaking one of the mini rat-mobile motors. “Chrome and Yuzuriha.”

“Taiju-chan. We need brute strength for the tougher manual labor,” Gen added, shaking his hands dramatically and sticking out his tongue.

“True that,” Senku agreed with a smirk. “The big oaf’s strength always surprises me. That man has no limits.”

“Taiju-chan is so trustworthy and ependable-day~” Gen sang with a cheerful hum.

A splash from the nearby water caught their attention, followed by a cheerful voice.

“We have a special delivery from Kohaku and the spy team!” Suika announced, holding up the mini rat-mobile.

The group gathered around the table as Senku emptied the contents. A sparkling pile spilled out onto the surface, catching the light.

“Sand?” Soyuz muttered.

“It looks sparkly though! Surely it’s something useful for Senku!” Suika pointed out excitedly.

Senku scooped up a bit of the fine material and let it fall slowly through his fingers. “It’s gold dust. Byakuya and the others must’ve collected it…”

“From this island’s tiny river…” Senku dropped the rest of the dust from his palm onto the pile and reached out absently for the magnifying glass. His voice softened, almost mournful. “Talk about arduous labor…”

Gen bit his lip, a lump forming in his throat as he looked at his mate with quiet sympathy.

“The thing about gold dust—depending on where it’s gathered—it can very, very rarely contain bits of platinum.”

Senku’s mood shifted in an instant. With a spark in his eye, he looked through the magnifying glass, fingers digging eagerly through the pile. He chuckled once he spotted a grayish-white speck glittering faintly among the gold. Plucking it up between his fingertips, he held it out for everyone to see.

“Found it.”

Gen smiled gently, while Suika let out a cheer.

Soyuz squinted. “That looks like a grain of sand. It’s so small.”

“Platinum is tiny! Will it be enough?” Suika tilted her head up at Senku.

“Preferably, I’d want an amount about as big as my fingertip,” Senku said, placing the speck carefully to the side, away from the gold dust. “But we’ve gotta work with what we have—even if it’s far from ideal.”

“Don’t worry, guys! I’ll go to the river and gather lots more!” Suika chirped, already heading toward the boat with eager steps.

Senku raised a hand to stop her. “Don’t bother, Suika.”

The pup halted mid-step and turned back toward the scientist.

Senku didn’t look up. He simply returned to the pile, peering through the magnifying glass, fingers combing carefully through the sparkling dust.

“Look,” he said evenly, “I need you all to understand just how incredibly rare platinum is.”

Gen stood beside him, quietly observing as his mate sifted through the shimmering pile. Suika rose up on her tiptoes on the other side of Gen, straining to get a better view. Soyuz watched in silence, his eyes filled with cautious hope.

“Shift through a ton of the Earth’s crust and you’ll find about .001 grams of this stuff. I’m grateful to even have a grain of it,” Senku continued, his tone laced with both reverence and pragmatism. As he spoke, he began separating out the pale specks from the gold dust. “If you tried digging through the riverbed, it’d take you decades to find more—”

He abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

Everyone noticed the shift immediately. Senku’s expression had gone still—focused in a way that made the air feel electric.

Gen’s mouth parted slightly in shock, brows furrowed as his eyes tracked the increasing number of platinum specks being drawn out. “That… you were just saying how rare…”

“More?” Suika whispered in awe. “You’re finding more and more…”

Soyuz clenched his fists, his breath catching.

Not just two. Not four. Not even eleven.

Two hundred and three.

Senku had counted two hundred and three grains of platinum.

Gen felt sweat begin to gather in his palms as his heart picked up its pace. He could feel the telltale sting of tears welling in his eyes. His voice trembled with emotion.

“How many decades did it take… to gather this much…?”

He turned to glance at Senku’s face and saw the stunned expression frozen there. His mate—usually composed, always logical—was speechless. The aghast look in his eyes said everything. This moment had hit the alpha just as deeply.

It was overwhelming. Powerful.

The sheer dedication, the meaning behind it all—it revealed the kind of man Ishigami Byakuya was. The love he held for his son was immense, overflowing, so much so that Gen could feel it down to his bones. How many years had it taken to collect this amount of platinum? How many sunrises and sunsets, how many storms or winters had Byakuya endured—all for the slim chance that his son might one day need it?

Through every hardship, he had persevered. He gathered each grain with care, holding onto unwavering faith, trust, and confidence in the boy he believed in.

It was enough to make Gen’s tears finally spill.

He let out a shaky breath as tears streamed down his cheeks. Ishigami Byakuya— a hardworking man, a loving, selfless father. Truly admirable. Truly unforgettable.

Time is so cruel.

The omega wished more than anything that he could have met the man who raised his mate. To thank him. To tell him how proud he should be of the son he left behind.

More than anything, Gen wished Senku could reunite with his father.

He knew it was a hopeless wish, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from wishing it anyway.

He raised his sleeve to his face, trying to shield his tears. But it was obvious to everyone in the cave that the omega was crying. From the way his shoulders trembled, to the quiet hiccups and soft sniffles—there was no hiding it.

He buried his face in his palms and turned his back toward them. His muffled sobs echoed faintly through the cave, bouncing off the stone walls.

If Senku wouldn’t cry, then Gen would simply do it for them both.

Senku was lucky—so lucky—to have had a father like Byakuya. A parent who loved, believed, and planned for him across the span of millennia. Gen had never known what that was like. His own parents had barely been present in his life, their love distant at best, conditional at worst.

But Byakuya…

Byakuya’s paternal instincts were so powerful, so enduring, that they had transcended time itself. They had reached across thousands of years, through disaster and ruin, to deliver this precious gifts to his son. And somehow, impossibly, Gen could feel it.

It tugged deeply at his core—at something uniquely omega inside him.

Omegas naturally gravitate toward children. They understand, down to their instincts, the profound importance of the bond between parent and child. Their bodies, their very biology, are attuned to emotion, to empathy, to nurturing.

They are sensitive to the room, to the unspoken, to the aching things left unsaid.

That had to be why he was crying so hard now. Why his whole chest ached with a grief that wasn’t even his but felt like it could be.

At least, that’s what Gen told himself.

Gen took a deep, shaky breath and hiccuped. Gentle hands reached out, prying his own from his tear-streaked face. Warm palms cupped his cheeks tenderly.

Through his blurry vision, he could make out the outline of the person in front of him—and even if he couldn’t see clearly, the scent alone was enough. Senku.

Senku wiped away his tears with his thumbs, carefully, without a word at first.

Gen’s hand came up, pressing softly against the back of one of Senku’s hands on his cheek. The other hand moved to the center of the alpha’s chest—where his heart beat steadily beneath skin and cloth—and scrunched the fabric into his trembling fist.

“Why are you crying?” Senku asked quietly, confusion threading through his voice. It wasn’t dismissive—it was concerned, soft, full of warmth and love.

Gen shook his head, melting further into the alpha’s touch. It should be the other way around. He wasn’t the one who had lost someone. He wasn’t the one standing in the echoes of a father’s sacrifice. And yet… a new wave of tears fell.

Grey-blue eyes met crimson.

“I can feel it…” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Senku tilted his head slightly, a hum of quiet question encouraging him to continue.

“I can feel how much he loves you,” Gen murmured, sincerity pouring from every word, lips quivering. “So, so, so much. It’s so strong… so powerful, and immense. It endured thousands of years—just to reach you.”

Senku stared at him, silent. His brows furrowed, lips drawn tight, but he didn’t speak.

“And you…” Gen sucked in a breath, lifting the hand from Senku’s chest to gently cup his cheek. His thumb brushed along the alpha’s skin. “You kept track of every single second… counting through millennia.”

His voice trembled with awe.

Then, without waiting for a reply, Gen leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Senku’s shoulders, drawing him close—guiding the alpha’s head to the curve of his neck. His fingers threaded into Senku’s wild, unruly hair.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek lovingly against the side of Senku’s head.

“And your father,” he whispered, “who spent decades gathering and collecting these materials… for you, for us…”

A soft pause.

“You two are really alike.”

They lingered in the embrace for a few more moments before slowly pulling apart—though still within each other’s space.

Gen had stopped crying, though his cheeks were still damp with tears. He let out a soft sniffle and lifted his sleeve to dab at his nose.

He glanced up just in time to catch a rare expression on Senku’s face—open, vulnerable. But it disappeared quickly, hidden behind a quiet chuckle.

Senku reached out again, gently wiping away the remaining streaks on Gen’s face with his thumbs. “Yeah… we’re not even related by blood.”

Before Gen could respond, Suika tugged gently on Senku’s tunic, drawing both of their attention.

The couple looked down to find the pup nestled between them—one hand clutching Gen’s purple overcoat, the other gripping the front of Senku’s tunic. Her wide eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she asked in a soft, sniffled voice:

“What do you mean? You’re not blood relatives? He’s… not your real dad?”

Senku looked down at her and rested a hand atop her helmet, the other hand sliding instinctively to Gen’s lower back. His voice was calm but firm.

“The only thing he ever told me was that I was his best friend’s kid. I never pressed for more… ’cause I never really cared about that,” he said simply. “Those kinds of details don’t really matter.”

Gen’s heart squeezed in his chest. His omegan instincts urged him forward, to embrace the alpha again—and he didn’t resist.

He leaned in, wrapping an arm around Senku in a side hug, resting his head gently on his mate’s shoulder. Then he pulled Suika into the hug as well, cradling her between them.

“That’s true,” Gen murmured softly, voice warm with affection.

“They really don’t matter—not one bit,” Gen murmured, voice gentle. “After all, the connection you two share is clear as day. Byakuya-chan’s dedication… how he never lost his heart… that’s something you definitely inherited, Senku-chan.”

He smiled softly and reluctantly let go of the hug, his eyes drifting toward the table where the gold dust and platinum now rested.

Soyuz discreetly wiped his eyes, red from emotion. Gen caught his expression and offered a small, apologetic smile, but Soyuz quickly shook his head—it’s okay, his gesture said. Gen nodded in understanding.

He stepped forward, stopping just before the table. Senku moved beside him again, ever steady, and resumed separating and inspecting the contents. They stood in silence for a moment, side by side, watching the platinum pile grow.

Gen noted the difference. There’s more than before… before I burst into tears.

Senku’s hands moved with practiced ease as he poured the collected platinum into a clean glass vial.

“Damn straight,” the alpha muttered with a quiet smile. “I’m truly grateful as hell, Byakuya.” He reached for three other vials—each filled with nitric acid. “Thanks for all those years of hard work. I’ll make sure to use this right.”

“Thank you, Senku’s dad!” Suika chirped joyfully.

“Thank you very much, Papa Ishigami,” Gen echoed with a fond smile, nodding at Suika.

“Y-Yes! Thank you, Mr. Ishigami!” Soyuz added, his voice still a little shaky.

Senku scratched his ear with his pinky, letting out a rare, amused laugh at their antics.

“Well then,” he said, determination rekindled in his voice. “Time to get to work. We’ve got everything we need to make infinite revival fluid—we just need one hell of a scientific contraption…”

_______

Bonus+

When Senku opened his eyes, he wasn’t met with the usual sight of the tent ceiling above him.

Instead, he found himself standing in the middle of a vast field of flowers.

It was… breathtaking.

Sunflowers, irises, lilies, carnations, chrysanthemums, daisies—countless blooms he recognized surrounded him. The grass beneath his feet swayed gently, rising just above his ankles. Everything glowed under the silver light of a brilliant full moon. Overhead, the night sky shimmered—littered with stars that painted the heavens in dazzling constellations.

Senku stood still for a moment, his breath caught in his throat.

Nearby, a towering cherry blossom tree stood in full bloom. Pale petals drifted through the air, carried by a soft, warm breeze. There was a kind of peace here that Senku couldn’t explain but it pulled at something deep in his chest.

Drawn to the tree, he began to walk toward it, cautious yet steady.

As he neared the wide trunk, he heard a sound.

A tune.

Familiar—so familiar it made his steps falter.

A soft hum carried on the wind. It wasn’t imagined. It was real. It was etched into his brain.

The humming became whistling.

Senku’s heart began to pound.

And then, the voice began to sing.

“If I could save time in a bottle…” A male voice sang softly, as if lulling someone—or something—to sleep. “The first thing that I’d like to do… is to save every day ’til eternity passes away…”

Senku knew the song by heart. The lyrics had been burned into his memory long ago. He stepped closer, peering around the trunk of the cherry blossom tree.

There—sitting beneath the canopy of petals—was a man.

A silhouette in moonlight.

He was seated cross-legged, gently cradling something in his lap, his fingers moving slowly through fur.

“Just to spend them with you…”

Senku’s breath caught. His chest tightened. His hand lifted instinctively, reaching toward the figure as his eyes widened, filled with a rare and raw vulnerability.

There was no doubt.

It was his father.

The familiar voice, the song, the aching irony woven into its words—it struck something deep in the alpha’s chest.

“If I could make days last forever… if words could make wishes come true…” Byakuya sang softly, lovingly, his voice full of warmth as he ran his fingers through the fur of two small kits curled on his lap. “I’d save every day like a treasure, and then… again, I would spend them with you.”

“Dad?” Senku whispered, voice hoarse and strained.

Byakuya’s singing paused.

He hadn’t expected to be interrupted but that voice… that voice was unmistakable.

He turned his head over his shoulder. His eyes widened as they landed on his son and then lit up with joy. His face broke into a radiant, uncontainable smile.

“Senkuuu!!”

The sudden switch from soft singing to a loud, delighted shout made Senku flinch. His heart was already on the edge; the abrupt shift sent it reeling.

A movement in Byakuya’s lap caught his eye.

He wasn’t the only one startled.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” Byakuya chuckled sheepishly, glancing down at the small animals in his lap. “Seems like we’ve got a visitor… someone you’ve been dying to meet.”

At his words, two tiny heads peeked out from the folds of his robe.

Baby rabbits—kits—both alert and curious. Their ears stood tall, twitching slightly, while their little noses wiggled, taking in the scent of the newcomer.

Senku stared, completely mesmerized by the sight. The rabbits were undeniably adorable—each with its own distinct markings. One was pure snowy white, the other a mottled pattern of black and white. Their fur shimmered faintly under the moonlight, and their once-pristine paws were smudged green, likely from rolling around in the grass.

Byakuya watched his son with a soft, knowing smile. The kind that said he understood something Senku didn’t yet. He patted the space beside him gently.

“Come on, sit. They’re just as curious about you as you are about them.”

Senku blinked out of his trance-like state and immediately moved to sit beside his father, still not taking his eyes off the tiny creatures. The kits followed his every move just as intently.

“…Why do you have kits on your lap?” he asked, voice hushed, like speaking too loud might disturb the moment.

“Aren’t they just so cute?” Byakuya cooed at the rabbits, who perked up at his voice. “My little moon rabbits~”

Senku snorted softly. “Moon rabbits? Seriously?”

“Of course,” Byakuya said matter-of-factly, smiling as a breeze rolled through the clearing. “They’re the moon’s children, after all.”

As the wind picked up, the cherry blossom branches above them rustled. More petals drifted down around them, catching in their hair and the grass below. The moonlight brightened, casting the whole clearing in a silvery glow.

“Huh?” Senku muttered, raising a brow at his father’s strange phrasing.

Before he could ask more, the two kits began wiggling restlessly in Byakuya’s lap, seemingly eager to move. Senku’s attention snapped back to them just as they crawled over to him—one bold hop at a time.

The mottled black-and-white one misjudged its landing and slipped, but Senku reacted instantly, catching the tiny body in his hands and guiding it safely onto his lap.

They settled in easily, pressing into the warmth of his legs. Both tilted their heads up at him, gazes locked—curious, expectant.

Senku brought his hands to their small heads, brushing his fingers gently through their soft fur. His touch was delicate—like they were made of glass. A quiet smile tugged at his lips as he gazed down at them, wonder swimming in his eyes.

Both kits melted under his touch, nuzzling into his palms with trust and affection.

“Oooh, they definitely love you,” Byakuya teased, a soft laugh escaping him as he leaned back on his hands, watching the scene unfold. “Not only has the moon fallen in love with you—but its love blossomed and gave life to these two little ones. You guys make a wonderful pair.”

“What?” Senku laughed at the absurdity, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. He was instantly reminded of when he was five, asking his father why the moon always followed him. Byakuya’s response? ‘Because the moon’s in love with you, obviously.’ That might’ve been the moment everything started—his first spark of curiosity, the beginning of his lifelong pursuit of science.

“Unfortunately for the moon,” he chuckled, “I’m already mated and bonded—”

He stopped himself mid-sentence.

His gaze drifted up to his father’s face. The man looked a little older than the last time Senku remembered him. His hair, still slicked back in its usual style, now had two loose strands falling over his forehead. A bit more stubble shadowed his jaw.

Senku sighed quietly, fondness swelling in his chest. The two rabbits pawed gently at his fingers, and he let them.

“I fell in love,” he said softly.

Byakuya’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes sparkled as he listened.

“You’ve heard of him before… back in the past. You used to be a fan, actually.” Senku’s smile turned slightly lopsided. “His name’s Asagiri Gen.”

He paused, his voice carrying that rare tone of unguarded honesty.

“I wasn’t expecting it. Wasn’t looking for love. It just… came out of nowhere. There was no way I could’ve seen it or stopped it. Not that I wanted to. I was drawn to him.”

He lowered his gaze, watching the kits settle more comfortably in his lap.

“If we’re in a group, I always spot him first—like he stands out from the rest. I started noticing these small things: how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the single dimple he has on one side of his cheek when he laughs. How he snorts when he’s trying to hold it in, pretending to be serious.”

A soft chuckle left Senku’s throat, but there was longing beneath it.

“Or when he pouts whenever I assign him something he doesn’t want to do. He’ll say no, complain, make a whole show of it but then he does it anyway.”

Byakuya nodded silently, his eyes soft and knowing, as if he were watching someone fall in love all over again.

Senku’s voice quieted as he added, “Before we even got together, I’d catch myself almost reaching out… just to tuck his hair behind his ear.”

He stared off at nothing for a beat, as if remembering something too fleeting and too precious to say aloud.

“Seems like my instincts knew my feelings before my brain did,” Senku chuckled, the sound soft as he rubbed the back of his neck. He thought back on all the subtle things he’d done: giving Gen that cola, how he’d started giving him special treatment long before he even realized what it meant. Scaring off any alpha with eyes for the omega. Growing strangely protective.

In Ryusui’s words, his actions had been screaming ‘mine’ from the very beginning.

And that wasn’t even counting the discreet scenting.

“I probably should’ve properly courted him,” Senku muttered, sheepish. “But, well… the timing’s never exactly been on our side.”

“I can see that,” Byakuya grinned, glancing between his son and the kits on his lap. “You’re usually so well-coordinated, keeping track of every single second… But when it comes to love, you sure don’t waste any time!”

Senku flushed and scowled, lips twitching in protest. “Well, he’s mine now. And once the world’s restored, I am going to marry him.”

“Going to, huh? Not even going to give him a choice?” Byakuya teased with a raised brow.

“No way. We already vowed to go to hell together—so he’s stuck with me for eternity,” Senku replied without hesitation, as if it were the most logical conclusion in the universe.

Byakuya threw his head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. “It suits you. Love suits you so well, my son.” His eyes gleamed as he wiped a tear away. “And it looks like your family’s going to be expanding soon… so I hope you’re prepared. The Ishigami name prevails!”

Senku looked down, suddenly feeling a soft pressure on his chest.

The mottled black-and-white kit was pawing at him gently, crimson eyes blinking up at him with curiosity. The snowy white kit gave its sibling a little nudge—insisting on space beside it—and settled close, eyes sparkling with a familiar mischievous glint.

Senku blinked, heart skipping.

There was something about their eyes… something that reminded him of the starry sky overhead. Of Gen.

He swallowed, a fond, breathless feeling blooming in his chest.

“I’d sure hope so,” he murmured. “It’s okay if Gen keeps his last name… but I’d like it if he took mine instead.”

Byakuya beamed and slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, pulling him into a strong, proud hug.

“Gen will definitely take the Ishigami name,” he declared confidently. “My instincts tell me so~”

“I would’ve loved for you to meet him,” Senku said softly, a wistful snort escaping him. “You’d probably dote on him, too.”

“Who wouldn’t dote on a cute son-in-law like him?” Byakuya replied with a hum of agreement. “Gen’s amazing. He’s the right person for you.”

He smiled gently, voice dipping into something quieter—more heartfelt.

“I can see how much he loves you, Senku. As a father… knowing there’s someone out there who loves your child so immensely—” he placed a hand over his chest, “—it puts me at ease.”

Byakuya’s gaze lifted toward the glowing moon above them. His expression softened.

“Take care of him, Senku,” he said. “He’s going to need all the support he can get.”

Senku tilted his head slightly, a frown tugging at the edge of his brow. “Like I’d ever let anything happen to Gen.”

“I know,” Byakuya said with a smirk, eyes twinkling. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

Senku blinked as the two kits began to wriggle, clearly determined to climb up his arms. He instinctively adjusted his hold, steadying them as they clambered onto his forearms. Once settled, they released a series of soft, high-pitched oinks—sounds so light and content, they almost made him laugh.

The little critters were pleased. Relaxed. Safe.

Senku’s chest swelled.

Something deep within him stirred—roared to life. His alpha instincts lit up, burning warm in his veins. Holding them like this, with their tiny bodies nestled against his skin… it felt right. Like they belonged there.

He didn’t just want to protect them—he needed to.

Byakuya’s voice broke gently through the silence, low and thoughtful.

“Did you know that baby rabbits make soft squeaking noises to trigger a mother’s instincts? It’s their way of saying, ‘I’m here. I need care.’” He smiled from the corner of his eye. “And female rabbits—well, they make clucking sounds when they eat their favorite foods. Sometimes when they’re happy.”

Senku looked over, curious despite himself.

Byakuya chuckled softly, eyes twinkling with something that sounded suspiciously like a hidden meaning.

“It’s important to feed them, you know,” he said. “Or they’ll get hangry…”

He burst into laughter, full and warm. “You’ve got to satisfy their cravings, Senku.”

Senku’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

He was pretty sure that wasn’t about rabbits anymore.

“What exactly do you mean, old man?” Senku asked, suspicion lining his voice.

Byakuya merely hummed in response. “You’ll figure it out on your own. It’s no fun to ruin the surprise…”

Surprise? The word echoed in Senku’s mind like a ripple in still water.

But before he could speak again, the world around them began to shift. The grass, the cherry blossoms, the soft moonlight—all of it started to dissolve into shimmering motes of light. His senses went on high alert, every instinct screaming that something was wrong.

Senku clutched the kits to his chest protectively, holding them close as if shielding them from an unseen threat. His pulse thundered in his ears. He had to protect them.

“What the hell is going on?” he barked, jaw clenched, body tense.

“Looks like time’s up,” Byakuya said calmly, though something in his tone was bittersweet. He reached out with both hands, fingers curling toward the kits. “Come here, my little moon rabbits, come to—”

The last word was distorted, broken, like a poor radio signal. Senku couldn’t catch it.

Byakuya’s hand moved toward the snowy white kit, fingers just brushing its fur—

Senku jerked back, a low, warning growl building in his throat. “No.”

Byakuya froze mid-motion, blinking in surprise. His hand hovered in the space between them as he looked at Senku with startled eyes.

“…Senku?” he said softly, blinking again, voice full of surprise and—underneath that—deep understanding.

“They’re mine…” Senku gritted out, voice tight. The growl in his throat was gone now, but the weight of his instincts still lingered in his chest. “They’re mine.”

He winced at himself. At how he sounded.

Byakuya let his hands fall to his lap and gave a fond little sigh. “Look at you,” he snickered gently, voice rich with pride. “Acting like a protective—”

The word distorted again—muffled, warped, as though someone had pressed their fingers over the dream’s seams.

Senku frowned. That was twice now.

Byakuya reached over and ruffled his hair, just like he used to when Senku was a child. “You two are going to make great—”

Again.

Senku’s hands curled tighter around the kits. His instincts roared not to let go, not even to his father, and yet—

His brain was screaming, too.

“Sorry,” Senku muttered, ashamed. “I just can’t give them up. They’re mine.”

“I know, I know,” Byakuya said with a warm laugh. “But not even to your old man?” He pointed to himself dramatically. “Come on, Senku—I raised you. You knew me your whole life!”

Senku shut his eyes. Inside his head, instinct and logic wrestled—clashing like two storms. He could feel his pulse in his temples. His eye twitched from the strain of trying to decide.

“Trust your old man,” Byakuya said, more softly this time. “I’ll keep them safe and sound. Promise.”

Senku took a deep breath. He looked down at the kits one last time—their eyes reflecting his own uncertainty, and yet their tiny bodies radiated trust. They weren’t afraid. They just watched.

Byakuya is the most trustworthy person you’ve ever known, he reminded himself.

The great tree, the field, the moonlight—all of it was beginning to dissolve into light again. The dream was ending. The moment slipping.

Senku slowly extended his arms, hands trembling just slightly as he passed the kits to his father. He watched Byakuya accept them with that familiar, gentle care—the same way he once held him.

A sharp ache bloomed in his chest.

“Fine,” he said. “Keep them safe… please.”

His vision began to blur—light swallowing the edges of the world.

“I love you, son,” Byakuya called, voice warm and unshakably proud.

Senku’s breath caught. His eyes widened.

Just before the dream was gone entirely, he managed to respond.

“I love you too, Dad.”

On the morning of September 12th, 5741 AD—

Ishigami Senku woke up disoriented, head pounding, and eyes wet with fading tears. He wiped them away quickly, irritation flickering across his face as he stared up at the ceiling of the tent, trying to piece together the fragments of a dream already slipping through his fingers.

He could barely recall the whole of it—but what lingered most were the images of two tiny kits he didn’t want to part with.

And his father—singing beneath the moonlight.

Senku turned onto his side, his arm automatically curling around his mate’s waist. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in Gen’s scent—steadying himself.

There was a long day ahead. No time to dwell on dreams.

With a quiet sigh, he gently pulled away and sat up. He got dressed with practiced ease, tugged on his boots, and stepped outside into the early morning air.

Soyuz was already up.

“Morning,” Senku greeted with a brief nod, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Soyuz returned the gesture with a tired smile.

Senku glanced back at the tent once, just once—then decided to let Gen and Suika sleep in a bit longer.

He and Soyuz would start the day’s work without them. There were materials to deliver to Kohaku, and the mission waited for no one.

Chapter Text

September 14th, 5741 AD

Seeing the statues of their friends being shattered and discarded into the sea—sinking to the ocean floor like worthless debris—made Gen seethe with rage.

And he wasn’t alone.

Beside him, his mate radiated a quiet, simmering fury. Senku clenched his jaw, teeth grinding before he clicked his tongue and spoke sharply, laying out a new plan. They would recover the statues from the ocean floor. According to what they’d gathered, the discarded statues had been dumped in a single location, though ocean currents would make tracking them a challenge.

Suika was quick to chime in. They’d need Ryusui.

When they saw the enemy loading Ryusui’s statue onto a boat, setting sail toward the island, Senku wasted no time. He called Kohaku and briefed her on the situation. If they were forced to destroy Ryusui’s statue, so be it—they’d collect the fragments using the mini rat-mobiles, reassemble him, and revive the golden-haired alpha.

And that’s exactly what they did.

While Senku, Soyuz, and Suika worked to carefully reassemble Ryusui’s statue, Gen set to work crafting clothes for him. He used the fabrics Amaryllis had gathered and left behind for them before the selection process—something he mentally thanked the fellow omega for.

Gen wasn’t nearly as skilled as Yuzuriha—her talent was on another level—but he had some experience. Back in his stage days, he used to sew his own costumes, so he knew a few tricks. With limited time and materials, Gen did the best he could, stitching together a simple outfit and dressing Ryusui’s statue swiftly. Suika, ever thoughtful, had crafted a captain’s hat for him to replace the one stolen by Minister Ibara.

Gen scooped the little pup up in his arms and watched as she gently placed the hat on Ryusui’s head. Once done, he set her back down, and together they took a step back to give Senku room.

The moment had come.

Senku held the vial steady, then poured the revival fluid over Ryusui’s head.

There was a beat of silence—no familiar crackle-crackle.

“Oh?” Gen turned toward Senku, brow furrowing slightly. “It’s not making the usual sound. Is it because he’s only been petrified for a few days?”

Senku placed his hands on his hips, turned toward his mate, and gave a thoughtful hum of agreement. “That’s right. Our statues were exposed for thousands of years, so the surface degraded. Some parts couldn’t revert back to cells and just flaked away.”

Just then, Ryusui’s statue began to glow.

“What we’re witnessing now,” Senku continued, his smirk tugging at one corner of his lips as he glanced at the awestruck look on Gen’s face, “is the real de-petrification reaction.”

Cracks of light traced across the statue’s surface—and a heartbeat later, Ryusui stood before them, flesh and blood once again.

“Ha-ha! Excellent work, everyone!” Ryusui grinned, snapping his fingers as he turned to the group. “Thanks to you, I now have the distinct honor of being the only person to be revived twice!”

“Ryusuiiiii!” Suika cried out, launching herself at him.

Without missing a beat, Ryusui caught the little pup and hoisted her into the air, laughing as he spun her around in a wide circle.

“Suikaaa!” he beamed, his voice full of pride and affection. “I knew you could do it! Allow me to apologize for hurting you in the process—”

“No! I’m fine, really!” Suika shook her head quickly as he pulled her close again. “You reacted fast and kicked me to safety. I’m okay.”

She hugged him tightly, arms wrapping around his neck as her voice softened. “I missed you.”

Ryusui rubbed the little pup’s back in a soothing motion. “Missed you too, Suika. You carried a huge responsibility on your shoulders as the sole survivor of the ship. I don’t even need to say it—but you’ve already become a full-fledged warrior of the Kingdom of Science.”

Suika lifted the watermelon helmet from her head to wipe her eyes, then smiled up at the blond man. Ryusui returned the smile warmly. His gaze wandered, noting the disassembled motor parts nearby, before landing on the couple. Suika’s melon helmet now hung loosely on top of her head as she pressed her cheek against Ryusui’s shoulder, blinking adorably at Gen and Senku.

“Hmm, I actually don’t know if I was the first one—”

“You’re the first,” Senku cut in, arms crossed.

The spark in Suika and Ryusui’s eyes brightened.

“Awesome.” Ryusui gently set Suika down and placed his hands on his hips. “I take it you want to revive Kaseki next or am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” Senku grinned. “Damn, you’re fast to catch on. Good—makes things easier.”

“I’ve got a pretty good gist of the situation thanks to my instincts…” Ryusui said, looking thoughtful. “So you’re planning to steal the petrification weapon the moment they throw it in the air. A good ol’ air warfare battle in the skies. You’re going to make a kite, right?”

“Nah. We’re making a drone.” Senku shot finger guns at the golden-haired alpha.

Ryusui’s lips twitched in disbelief as he stared at the grinning scientist.

“Hah! Even the greediest man in the world is speechless,” Gen laughed, grinning as Ryusui’s stunned expression lingered. “Good to know I’m not the only one anymore.”

Senku snickered beside him.

“I like it. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the leader of the Kingdom of Science. That’s just how things are run here,” Ryusui said, snapping out of his stupor within seconds and grinning confidently.

“Ryusui, how did you know it was a petrification weapon?” Soyuz asked curiously.

The alpha’s cheerful expression softened, turning serious. He sighed, glancing out at the water beyond the cave mouth. A familiar face flashed through his mind.

“Ukyo—my mate. He’s amazing,” Ryusui said with a fond smile. “He acted fast and aimed perfectly at the incoming threat. The arrow hit the weapon head-on. It shifted the trajectory just enough. I managed to catch a glimpse of it… right before I completely turned to stone.”

His voice took on a wistful tone, eyes lingering on the waves. Gen, watching closely, had no doubt Ryusui was thinking about Ukyo’s statue—how badly he wanted to revive him. But given the current situation, Gen knew Ryusui understood they had to recover Kaseki first.

“Ukyo-chan is incredible,” Gen said as he stepped beside him. “Don’t worry, we’ll recover his statue in no time.”

He nudged Ryusui’s shoulder playfully. “You two will be reunited pretty soon. I expect a lovers’ reunion straight out of a fairy tale,” Gen added with a teasing smile.

Ryusui laughed and reached out to ruffle Gen’s hair. “I’ll make sure to give you a real good show.”

“I’ll be right in front and center… too bad we don’t have any popcorn,” Gen pouted.

“Alright, let’s get moving, people!” Senku called out as he appeared behind Gen. He placed both hands on the omega’s shoulders and began steering him toward the small boat. “The faster we retrieve the statues, the better our chances of pulling this off.”

They all climbed onto the boat. Soyuz took the oars and rowed them out of the cave, heading toward the direction where the Perseus lay anchored. The tips of its sails appeared first, followed by the full sight of the ship as they got closer.

Senku pointed to a patch of cliffside where trees and thick bushes grew—perfect for cover.

“Over there. We’ll stay hidden until we get a better read on things,” he said.

As they drifted into position, the group noticed a significant increase in patrols on board the ship. Warriors moved about, carrying supplies and ferrying them back to shore. It was clear that the enemy had tightened security.

Minister Ibara and Moz were both spotted on deck.

“Is it just me, or is security eriously-say tight…” Gen muttered, peering through the telescope. His eyes narrowed on Ibara and Moz, both of whom gave him a deeply unsettling feeling.

Ibara radiated something dark and suspicious, while Moz looked far too smug for Gen’s liking.

“Even creepy ol’ Ibara and that scary guy Moz are there!” Suika clung tightly to Gen’s overcoat.

“They’re ten billion percent expecting an intruder,” Senku said as he lowered his own telescope. “Which means extra patrols and no way we’re getting even a millimeter closer.”

“What if we snuck up in the middle of the night?” Soyuz suggested.

“We wouldn’t be able to search the sea floor unless we’ve got daylight,” Ryusui countered, already removing his captain’s hat. He tossed it aside and began taking off his cape and long skirt. Then came the boots. He gestured toward Soyuz. “Come on, we dive now.”

Gen immediately covered Suika’s eyes as both alphas stripped down. “Would it kill them to have some decency…” he muttered.

His own vision was then abruptly blocked by a hand.

“Senku-chan?” he asked flatly.

Senku casually scratched his ear with his pinky, the other hand shielding Gen’s eyes. “Nothing to see here.”

Gen blinked, then leaned slightly back to glance at his mate. “I wasn’t looking.”

The sound of splashing echoed out as both Ryusui and Soyuz dove into the water.

Senku finally lowered his hand and casually rested it on Gen’s thigh. He blew on his pinky like it was no big deal, then turned his head toward the omega, their eyes meeting.

“I know,” he said with a smirk. “Just protecting your dignity.”

“Pfft—” Gen giggled, uncovering Suika’s eyes.

The little girl padded over to the edge of the boat and leaned over, trying to spot their diving companions, but the water was calm and empty now—no sign of Ryusui or Soyuz.

Gen took the moment to lean in closer, grinning as he slipped into Senku’s space. “I have eyes only for you~” he teased, tapping the alpha’s nose with a light touch.

“Ah, I’m well aware.” Senku’s hand slid from Gen’s thigh to the curve of his waist. With the alpha now shamelessly manspreading, Gen fit snugly between his legs, his side resting comfortably against Senku’s chest.

The omega tilted his head up to look at him. “Good.”

His gaze flicked from one of Senku’s eyes to the other, then down to his lips before finally locking onto the scientist’s crimson stare. Gen watched, satisfied, as Senku’s pupils subtly dilated. He bit his bottom lip and blushed lightly, before glancing shyly away and tucking a strand of white hair behind his ear.

“I thought I’d have to reassure you there for a second, Senku-chan~” he murmured with a playful lilt.

“Please, by all means. I’m not stopping you from doing so,” Senku murmured in a husky, low tone, his gaze fixed on Gen’s lips like they held the answer to a lifelong equation. He began to lean in, drawn by instinct and longing, eager to taste his mate—

SPLASH!

“Ryusui! Soyuz! They came back!” Suika shouted excitedly, her small frame bouncing as she pointed toward the water.

The two alphas broke through the surface, gasping for air as they treaded water toward the boat.

Gen let out a breathy laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement as Senku pulled back with a pout.

“Ack, cockblocked by ocean boys,” Senku muttered under his breath.

Gen cupped his cheek, smile full of mischief, and leaned in to press a quick, featherlight kiss on his lips before slipping away from his grasp. It was far too brief for the alpha’s liking.

Senku sat there, jaw tightening slightly as he watched his omega move toward the edge to help Ryusui onto the boat. His clenched fist rested on his knee. That kiss wasn’t nearly enough.

Gen shoved their clothes at them the moment they were on the boat—far too quickly, making sure Suika didn’t catch even a glimpse. From the corner of his eye, he noticed his mate sulk and let out an exaggerated sigh that ruffled his bangs.

The two alphas changed hastily, tension buzzing under their skin.

“Well, that settles it,” Senku announced, crossing his legs and sitting up straight. “We’re going to make an oxygen tank so you guys can go scuba diving and retrieve our trusty craftsman, Kaseki.”

“Oxy tank? Scuba diving? What’s… that?” Soyuz asked between breaths.

“Back in our time, we had the resources to explore underwater. Some people did it for fun, others for research,” Gen explained, voice calm as he addressed both Soyuz and the wide-eyed Suika. “An oxygen tank is—well, to put it simply—a metal container you strap to your back. It holds oxygen, the air we breathe. With it, you can breathe underwater without needing to resurface every few seconds.”

“Exactly,” Ryusui chimed in, snapping his fingers. “With tanks, we’ll be able to swim longer—hopefully long enough to find everyone.”

“Hm… sounds like fun and all,” Suika murmured, “but I’m kinda getting hungry now…”

At the mention of food, Gen’s stomach growled loudly. The omega rubbed his belly and averted his gaze in mild embarrassment. “Suika-chan’s right… lunchtime is approaching, and we’ve completely run out of food.”

“Then we’ll split up,” Ryusui said smoothly. “One group gathers food, the other stays behind to start building the oxygen tanks.”

Soyuz grabbed the oars, already rowing the boat back toward Sapphire Cave. “I can go fishing again. I got a good haul last time.”

“I’ll gather fruit,” Suika offered. “I already know my way around, and Amaryllis said we could take some from the village!”

“I’ll join you,” Ryusui said, patting her helmet with a grin. “I’ve been itching to explore the island. Think you can be my guide?”

“Of course! You can count on me!” Suika beamed.

“Alright,” Senku said. “Gen and I will get a head start on the oxygen tanks. When you’re back, we’ll continue with the next steps since they’ll require more hands.”

“Ahem,” Gen interrupted sweetly, giving his mate a warning look and a too-tight smile. “You mean after we eat, my dear? Some of us are rather hungry, and if I’m not mistaken… Ryusui-chan hasn’t eaten since we de-petrified him.”

“Yes, yes—after we eat, we’ll get started,” Senku sighed, a touch of fondness in his voice despite himself.

“Perfect,” Gen chirped, visibly perking up. Just the thought of food lifted his spirits, the image of a full stomach bringing a genuine smile to his lips. Lately, his appetite had been growing with each passing day—and right now, he was looking forward to whatever the others managed to bring back.

Maybe something sweet. Or salty. Or both.

He didn’t notice the glance Senku gave him, quiet and thoughtful.

The couple watched quietly as the trio’s boat disappeared through the mouth of the Sapphire Cave. Once they were gone from view, Gen turned and glanced around their little camp, thoughtful. Technically, they were supposed to get started on constructing the oxygen tanks but truthfully, Gen couldn’t focus. Not when all he could think about was food.

His snack pouch was empty, the fruit and fish they had were gone—finished off earlier that morning. His stomach gave a soft grumble in protest.

“Here.” Senku’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Gen blinked, surprised, as a hand reached out toward him, holding neatly cut pieces of pineapple “Senku-chan! I thought we were all out of fruit!”

“We are,” Senku replied, settling beside him. “That was the last one. Figured we could share it to tide us over until the others come back.”

Gen smiled brightly and accepted the slices, biting into them with obvious delight. The juice burst across his tongue, sweet and refreshing. “Thank you~”

Senku didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched him, expression softening as Gen savored the fruit, lips glistening with juice. His gaze lingered—just a moment too long—before he looked away.

Without a word, he retrieved the remaining slices, and returned with them on a makeshift plate. He offered them wordlessly.

“You can eat the rest,” he said. “I can wait.”

“Are you sure?” Gen frowned slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. The idea of Senku going hungry made him uneasy but at the same time, knowing his mate was willing to sacrifice his share for him filled him with a warmth that spread through his chest.

“I’m positive,” Senku murmured, reaching forward. His thumb gently brushed across Gen’s bottom lip, swiping away a streak of pineapple juice. He brought it to his mouth, licking it off without breaking eye contact.

“I’ll be happy with this.”

Gen’s cheeks flushed at the gesture. Senku’s thumb, the lick—it brought back memories of their playful flirting earlier, of the moment where a kiss had nearly happened… but was interrupted.

This—right now—was the first time in days that they were truly alone.

And god, did Gen want to kiss his mate. Desperately. He wanted to do so much more.

His heart pounded, and he quickly averted his gaze, forcing himself to focus on the remaining pineapple slices in his plate. This cave, while private enough to camp in, was still far too risky for anything intimate. The air here wasn’t exactly well-ventilated, and any lingering scent would be a dead giveaway.

Ryusui and Soyuz, both alphas, weren’t fools—they’d know. The moment they stepped back into the cave, they’d smell it. The haze of longing, the afterglow of something intimate. Even if Gen and Senku tried to be subtle, the scent would cling to the air, stubborn and unmistakable.

And worse, Gen wouldn’t be able to look Suika in the eye afterward, and the thought of putting that poor pup through the awkward aftermath made him cringe.

He sighed inwardly. No. Not here. Not now.

Still… he really, really wanted to kiss Senku.

He popped another slice into his mouth, chewing slowly as his gaze drifted to the flicker of ocean light reflecting off the cave wall, contemplating. His body was already running warmer than usual, his cravings more intense, and the pineapple’s sweetness didn’t help—it only reminded him of the sweetness he wasn’t allowing himself. His body ached with want, and his mind kept circling back to the man beside him.

To his mate.

To Senku.

What if he just asked for a kiss? Just one? Harmless. Probably.

Gen chewed thoughtfully.

Probably…

The omega pressed a knuckle to his lips, trying to will away the heat rising up his neck.

It wasn’t fair. The island was full of unknowns, danger looming at every turn, and yet here he was—thinking about kissing, touching, giving in. They were supposed to be focusing on rescuing Kaseki, building oxygen tanks, staying alive. But how was he supposed to think clearly when Senku looked at him like that? When his fingers lingered a second too long on Gen’s skin?

I need to calm myself down… or else Senku-chan will notice. Gen let out a quiet sigh and reached for another piece of pineapple—only to grasp at empty air. He blinked down at the plate and realized with mild dismay that he’d eaten it all.

With a tiny frown, he set the empty plate aside and turned his gaze toward his mate. Senku was already crouched near the mobile lab, prying off parts with practiced ease. The alpha looked far too pleased with himself as he finally loosened the exhaust system, a satisfied snicker leaving his lips.

Gen pouted. Hmph. He was sort of hoping for a kiss, maybe something soft and playful now that they were finally alone—but nope. Sticky fingers, a fluttering heart, and now a mate more interested in scrap metal.

He grumbled under his breath and pivoted toward the water. Might as well clean his hands if nothing else. The sweet juice had dried tacky on his skin, and it was starting to annoy him.

As he approached the shallow edge of the cave pool, he remembered the little bathing corner they had fashioned together. Tucked neatly against the far wall, they’d arranged it using a folding privacy screen Amaryllis had “liberated” from somewhere during her rummaging adventures. Positioned just right, it created a cozy half-box enclosure with the rocky wall as a backdrop.

Gen smiled faintly to himself. Honestly, it was kind of perfect. A private spot, a moment of peace—maybe even a chance to collect himself and cool off before he did something reckless. Like climb into Senku’s lap and demand kisses.

He knelt by the water and dipped his hands in, the cool touch sending a small shiver up his spine.

Maybe a bath really was a good idea.

He pushed himself up with newfound determination and made his way to the mobile lab. If he was going to calm down properly, a bath was essential and not just a quick rinse either. A full, relaxing soak. Maybe even a bit of pampering.

Gen quietly climbed the short set of steps, and opened the lab door. The familiar scent of oil, metal, and faint herbal residue greeted him. His eyes scanned the shelves until they landed on two neatly labeled bottles: Shampoo and Conditioner. A smile tugged at his lips. Perfect.

He plucked both bottles off the shelf and cradled them to his chest. All he needed now was a towel and—

“What are you doing?”

Gen jumped and spun around.

There, leaning casually against the lab’s doorway with his arms crossed and an amused glint in his eye, stood Senku.

Caught red-handed, Gen held up the bottles like a guilty child. “I’m going to take a bath.”

“Now?” Senku raised a brow, voice dry. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

“And I will, my sweet darling mate~” Gen purred, sauntering toward him. When he reached him, he gave Senku’s cheek a playful pinch. “After I enjoy a long, luxurious soak in our makeshift spa. I already know the next few hours will be grueling under your strict regime of manual labor.”

Senku snorted, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You know you’ll just end up sweaty again from all the grueling work I’m going to put you through."

“Ugh…” Gen groaned dramatically at the reminder. “I know, but at least let me be refreshed first. This is the perfect time, you know? Ryusui-chan, Soyuz-chan and Suika-chan will probably take an hour or two—it’s the ideal window for a little relaxation.”

“Give or take,” Senku shrugged, uncrossing his arms. “Fine, go enjoy your little spa session. I’ll keep tearing apart the mobile lab for the parts we’ll need—”

“I know you’re allergic to relaxing,” Gen cut in with a pout, “but why don’t you join me?” He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Destroying the mobile lab can wait, but a bath with Gen-chan? That’s time-sensitive.”

Before Senku could object, Gen hooked an arm around his mate’s and guided them both down the steps with determined cheer.

If Gen was going to be soaking in bliss while Senku labored like some stoic machine, he’d feel way too guilty. Might as well rope the alpha into the break too. Or—well, that’s what he told himself.

He was definitely not still thinking about making out with his mate.

…Okay, maybe a little.

Actually, now that he thought about it, this might have been a terrible idea. If they were both undressed in the warm water, skin slick, droplets trailing down the alpha’s chest—

Gen swallowed hard.

Wouldn’t that be worse? He wouldn’t be able to resist. He knew himself. One second he’d be admiring the angle of Senku’s collarbone, and the next he’d be climbing on top of him in a hormone-fueled frenzy omega.

Damn these hormones.

“Gen-chan?” Senku let out a laugh and sighed. “The offer is very, very tempting, mentalist, but the faster I get these parts out, the sooner we’ll have what we need.”

Gen let go of the alpha’s arm, adjusted the two bottles against his chest, and gave a polite, closed-eye smile as he turned slightly over his shoulder. “…Okay. Have fun~”

“Gen—”

But the omega didn’t let him finish. He faced forward again and headed off toward the bathing area, steps quick, almost stubborn.

Inside, though? He was a mess.

Part of him felt relieved—he knew he shouldn’t have asked in the first place. And yet… disappointment settled cold in his stomach, tugging at his heart like a string pulled too tight.

Damnit.

The stupid, overwhelming urge to kiss the loving daylights out of his mate just wouldn’t let up. It had been building for days—weeks, maybe. And now?

Now it was unbearable.

Gen abruptly halted in his tracks, set the shampoo and conditioner down on the floor, and spun around on his heel. He marched back toward Senku, whose brows raised in surprise as the omega stormed up to him.

“Gen?” the alpha asked, confused, almost guilty, like a kicked puppy.

Gen stopped right in front of him—boot to boot, breath to breath—and stared into his eyes with a fire in his gaze.

“I’m not going to offer again,” he said, voice low and firm. “This is the last time I ask you to bathe with me.”

Senku blinked, startled by the sudden shift. “Wait—”

But Gen wasn’t finished.

His frustration softened into a pout as his eyes dropped to Senku’s lips. He licked his own before reaching up and cupping the alpha’s cheeks with both hands.

Then, without giving him time to argue, Gen leaned in and kissed him.

Soft and warm, sweet but insistent. Like a sigh of relief and a promise all at once.

All the tension melted away the moment their lips met—Gen’s annoyance, his restlessness, even the awkward twist in his chest from earlier. Everything softened into the sensation of Senku’s lips beneath his own.

This. This was what he needed.

Senku’s hands gripped Gen’s waist, fingers tightening like he couldn’t stand the distance between them. With one tug, he pulled the omega flush against him and deepened the kiss, lips parting and moving hungrily against Gen’s.

Gen gasped at the sudden pressure—that kind of hunger—and Senku wasted no time, sliding his tongue into Gen’s mouth to claim the space like it was already his.

The omega’s body flushed instantly. Heat curled low in his belly, his cheeks burned, and that same odd fluttering from earlier began to stir again—stronger now, deeper. Unrelenting.

Their tongues tangled, fought for dominance, but Gen already knew it was a losing game. Senku licked at the roof of his mouth, then swept his tongue in slow circles around his own. Gen’s knees trembled. He couldn’t stop the soft gasps and throaty hums that spilled from him each time something made his toes curl.

Senku devoured every noise.

Gen’s fingers tangled in his mate’s hair, gripping tightly as if to anchor himself. The kiss was messy now—raw and loud. Their breathing was heavy, and the sound of their mouths colliding echoed faintly through the cave walls.

His heart hammered in his chest.

Gen instinctively pressed his thighs together when he felt Senku’s hands move lower—from his waist to his backside. A sharp squeak left him as strong fingers squeezed his ass like it belonged to the alpha by right.

“Ah—!” Gen moaned, and his fingers curled against Senku’s scalp.

The alpha growled low in his throat, lips dragging across Gen’s before biting down gently on his lower lip—then dove back in, deeper this time.

Too much. Gen’s head spun.

But at the same time—not enough.

Senku savored the lingering taste of pineapple on Gen’s lips—sweet and just slightly tart. He smirked into the kiss, pulling back just enough to murmur against the omega’s mouth, “Told you I’d be happy with just this.”

Gen’s half-lidded eyes fluttered open, dazed and glazed with heat. He panted softly against the alpha’s lips and huffed, “Shuddup and kiss me, dummy—”

Senku rumbled with amusement, a low growl vibrating from his chest, and dove back in. Their mouths collided again—hotter, hungrier. Gen met him eagerly, lips parting as their tongues tangled once more.

His hands slid from Senku’s hair down to his chest, bunching the fabric of his tunic between trembling fingers. That single motion ignited something.

With a rough, possessive grip, Senku hiked one of Gen’s legs up to his waist. His large hand gripped Gen’s thigh, slotting their hips together—grinding their growing arousal flush. Gen gasped at the contact, eyes fluttering shut as his hands flew up to Senku’s shoulders for balance.

The friction made them both hiss through their teeth.

Senku’s hand remained firm on Gen’s ass, guiding the omega’s hips, grinding them closer together. He rutted up against Gen, their groins aligned, the motion unrelenting. Gen’s purple overcoat slipped from his shoulders, his body feeling too hot, too constricted in the fabric.

He moaned, writhing helplessly in Senku’s grip. “Ah… Senku-chan!”

Senku growled lowly in response, “Gen.”

Gen whimpered, breath caught in his throat, body melting into his mate’s hold. That curling pressure in his lower belly intensified—electric, persistent. He didn’t understand why everything felt so intense lately, but he couldn’t care—not when Senku held him like this. Not when their hearts beat in rhythm.

“Senku—” Gen gasped as the alpha licked down the side of his jaw, hands trembling against his mate’s chest.

His scent was stronger than usual—warmer, more heady—and Senku couldn’t ignore it much longer.

Had Senku really planned this? Had the alpha been thinking about it the entire time—ever since that little tease Gen gave him on the boat?

The way Senku had swiped the juice from Gen’s lips and licked his thumb clean, slow and deliberate. The look in Senku’s eyes then… Gen should’ve known.

He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or proud that his mate had held onto that moment, built everything up to this kiss. But it was fine. Two can play at that game.

And besides… he was already getting a little lightheaded anyway. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the lack of oxygen between kisses or something else entirely but now felt like the perfect time to pull away.

Gen broke the kiss and leaned back, lips tingling. He opened his eyes to find Senku still chasing after him, a low groan escaping the alpha as if even the brief distance between them hurt.

They shouldn’t go any further than this. Gen knew that.

He panted softly, catching his breath, while Senku did the same. His mate’s crimson eyes were dazed and clouded with lust, pupils blown wide.

Gen gently slipped from his grasp, taking a step back. Senku’s hands hung in the air, fingers twitching slightly.

Senku blinked—slowly—as if waking from a dream. Gen gave him a coy, teasing smirk.

He knew he looked a mess. His overcoat was falling off one shoulder, lips kissed red, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Bashfully, he glanced away and brought a hand up to his mouth, touching where Senku’s lips had just been.

Clearing his throat, he murmured breathily, “We should stop right here, Senku-chan… or we’ll get carried away.”

Senku remained frozen for a moment before finally lowering his hands, still staring at Gen like the omega had just taken the ground out from under him.

Then, with visible effort, he turned away and began walking back toward his intended destination—the bathing area. Just a few steps in, he halted and glanced over his shoulder, his head tilting slightly.

The omega’s cheeks were flushed, lips puffy and kissed raw. That glossy, heated look in his eyes, paired with the teasing breathy tone of voice…

“Have fun dismantling the mobile lab, Sen-ku-chan~” Gen sang sweetly.

The look on his mate’s face was priceless. Frustration radiated off him—jaw clenched, teeth gritted, crimson eyes alight with fire.

Gen turned forward again, smiling to himself, and let out a soft giggle.

As he walked, he noticed the discarded bottles on the floor and bent to pick them up, gathering them into his arms before continuing on toward the bathing area. When he reached the entrance, he slipped off his boots, leaving them just outside.

Then, slipping through the narrow gap between the rocky cave wall and the folding privacy screen, he vanished from view.

Inside, Gen set the bottles between his thighs and began undressing. First, he slid off his purple overcoat, draping it neatly over the privacy screen. Then he untied the cord at his waist, removed his obi, and placed it on top of his coat. Next came his yukata, which he folded and added to the pile.

Now down to his high-collared shirt and pants, Gen picked up the bottles again. He ignored the slight erection pressing against the front of his trousers—knowing it would go away soon enough once he dipped into the cold water and relaxed.

Setting the bottles beside him, he reached for the waistband of his pants and finally began to tug them off.

Once he slipped his pants off, they joined the rest of his clothes. His fingers moved to the strings of his high-collared shirt, tugging them loose. Once undone, he slipped the shirt off and added it to the pile hanging over the folding privacy screen.

He left his primitive underwear on—just in case the group decided to return earlier than planned.

Gen dipped his toes into the water first and shivered at the cold. Slowly, he walked in, the chill biting at his skin until he reached a well-shaped rock nestled by the side—perfect for sitting, leaning, or propping things on. A small wooden bucket had been left resting on top. He grabbed it and crouched into the water.

It only reached his knees, but as he settled onto his heels, kneeling, the surface reached up to his torso.

Gen submerged the bucket, watching the air bubbles rise as it filled. For a moment, he simply stared down at his reflection—lips kissed raw, cheeks still flushed from earlier. He exhaled softly.

The moment we shared was nice, though.

His fingers brushed over his lips, and he smiled faintly. But the guilt crept in, steady and quiet. Here he was, indulging in a fleeting steamy moment with his mate, while their friends were petrified or risking their lives—disguised, infiltrating the Master’s harem, and scavenging for supplies.

The omega lifted the full bucket and poured the water over his head. The cold cascade made him gasp. It trudged down his shoulders, back, and chest. He let out a shaky sigh as he let the bucket fall, watching it float across the surface.

With a hand, he slicked back his now-drenched hair, pushing the strands off his forehead. He rubbed the water from his face, then brought both hands down to rest against his stomach.

There wasn’t time for more intimacy with Senku. Not while the world around them was so uncertain.

I’m just being greedy… selfish.

But then, his palms flattened over his lower belly. There was a soft small swell—more noticeable when kneeling or sitting than standing.

I’ve gained a little weight…

He frowned faintly. Maybe once they returned to the mainland, he’d pick up his old acrobatics routine again—the one he followed religiously for his magician career. Back when flexibility and core strength were part of the job.

A loose strand of white hair fell into his face. Gen tucked it behind his ear without thinking.

Would Senku-chan care about this sort of thing?

The thought lingered for a second before Gen shook his head.

Of course not. Senku wouldn’t care one bit.

And that thought alone made him huff a quiet, genuine smile.

That’s not the kind of person Ishigami Senku is.

His tiny belly probably wasn’t even noticeable when he was standing—especially with all the layers of clothes he wore. So it’d be easy to brush it off.

His ears weren’t as sharp as Ukyo’s, but he still picked up on the sound of mumbled curses, stomping, something being tossed aside, and the rustling of movement just outside the folding privacy screen.

Gen caught the familiar scent and turned his head toward the entrance. The omega knew his mate was just beyond—

Oh.

Senku stepped through the opening, his tunic already loosened and half off, like he’d been struggling to remove it mid-stride. He looked disheveled, like he’d rushed over here and left chaos in his wake. His shoes were gone, and so was his belt—Gen guessed those were what he’d heard being flung aside. The alpha peeled off the tunic and tossed it carelessly onto Gen’s pile of clothes draped over the folding screen, leaving him in only his primitive underwear.

Gen swept his gaze over his mate’s body before he could stop himself.

Oh.

Heat returned to Gen’s cheeks as he quickly looked away, but it didn’t help—he still felt him. Still sensed him. His presence was too large, too focused. And Senku clearly hadn’t forgotten their interaction from minutes ago.

Senku hadn’t forgotten at all.

The look in his crimson eyes told Gen everything he needed to know—dark, hungry, and unflinching. He wasn’t here to cool off. If anything, he looked more fired up than before, jaw set and brows drawn in that familiar way that meant he was either deep in thought… or hanging by a thread of restraint.

And Senku was restraining himself.

Gen could tell by the twitch in his fingers and the way his gaze lingered on the beads of water dripping down Gen’s shoulders. The omega quickly turned his face away, splashing water across his chest in an attempt to distract himself but it only made things worse. He could feel Senku’s stare, heavy and sharp, dragging along his wet collarbone… his chest… and then—

It made him feel hot.

“I thought you were supposed to be pulling the lab apart…” Gen accused weakly, his voice barely above a whisper—more flustered than angry. “The quicker you get the materials, the sooner you can start on the oxygen tanks…”

“That was the intended plan,” Senku mused as he stepped into the water without hesitation, barely reacting to the cold. “Before a certain pretty omega decided to be a tease.”

The alpha stalked through the water like a predator, eyes fixed on his prey. His voice dropped an octave, husky and low. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with that, then you’re dead wrong.”

Gen squeaked, stuttering at the subtle warning. “Y-You started it first, Senku-chan!” He forced himself to compose, even though his heart was going wild in his chest. He shifted slightly on his knees, chin tilted with theatrical calm. “With the way you swiped your thumb across my bottom lip and then licked it… I was just returning the avor-fay.”

Senku hummed in amusement, eyes glinting like he’d just sprung a trap.

“Aha. I knew it. That did bother you,” he said, reaching out to grab the floating bucket and scooping up water. “You were quiet for a while. Were you thinking about me kissing you? Is that why you marched up to me like a man on a mission?”

His scent thickened in the air, and Gen’s body responded instantly—sharp, needy, and undeniable.

Still, he wouldn’t give his mate the satisfaction that easily.

“Please, Senku-chan.” Gen tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear, tone airy and coy. “You’ve been dying to kiss me since that little boat moment earlier—you looked disappointed, and it was adorable~”

Senku didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted the bucket and poured it over his head in one smooth motion, water cascading down his body in glittering streams.

Gen immediately regretted glancing over.

The alpha’s pale skin glistened beneath the spray, droplets sliding down sharp lines and lean muscle. His hair, usually a wild, spiky mess, now lay slicked back against his skull. The contrast between his usual calm, calculating demeanor and the tension radiating off him now made Gen’s stomach flip.

Senku tossed the bucket aside with a splash and ran a hand through his drenched hair. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something darker. “That’s twice now.”

He stepped forward—close. So close Gen had to tilt his head back just to meet his eyes.

“Huh…?” the omega breathed, suddenly very aware of every inch of water lapping at his skin.

He didn’t dare move.

Senku leaned in slightly, voice low and velvety, dangerous in the way only he could be. “That’s twice you’ve left me hanging. Gonna run off again, mentalist?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “Or are you going to stay this time and find out how much I really want to ravish you?”

Gen choked on his breath.

His pulse thundered in his ears. Every inch of skin buzzed under Senku’s gaze, overwhelmed by the heat that came not from the water but from the raw intensity between them. It wasn’t fair—how easily Senku could unravel him. One look. One grin. And Gen was helpless.

A needy, desperate whine escaped him before he could stop it.

He tore his gaze away, face flushed a deep, glowing pink that spread all the way to his neck. His eyes shimmered with heat and unshed emotion as he shifted on his knees, thighs pressing together beneath the water. Turning his body slightly, he faced away—not in rejection, but in surrender.

He couldn’t look at him. Not like this.

He burned with need—white-hot, insistent, impossible to ignore.

Damn his hormones.

The mating bite on his neck pulsed, throbbing like a second heartbeat.

Before he could even think, his body moved on instinct—head tilting, neck bared in silent submission.

He heard the splash before he saw it, water rippling around him as another body drew near.

Gen glanced over his shoulder.

Senku had plopped down beside him, leaning back against a smooth rock, arms braced as he settled into the pool. He sat cross-legged, water rising to his torso—every inch of him dripping, carved from heat and logic and maddening restraint.

But there was nothing restrained about his expression now.

Senku’s eyes were blown wide with desire, dark and greedy.

“My lap.” the alpha growled, voice rough and raw. “Now.”

And who was Gen to deny him?

His body moved before his brain could catch up—climbing onto his mate’s lap, straddling him with slow, deliberate grace. He didn’t look away, not once, his gaze locked to the alpha’s.

His hands found Senku’s shoulders for balance, nails pressing lightly into his skin.

Senku gave a low, satisfied hum—his smile sharp and smug—as he gripped Gen’s ass with both hands and pulled him flush against him, chests pressed tight, no space between them.

The heat of it made Gen shiver.

And for the briefest, strangest moment, something fluttered deep inside him—right beneath his navel.

A strange swoop of sensation that made his breath hitch. He felt his stomach press against Senku’s and—

Gone. Just like that. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came.

But it left him shaken.

And the place it touched? It still lingered, somewhere quiet and hidden beneath the heat.

-

Senku’s mouth immediately latched onto his mate’s neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling.

Gen gasped, fingers digging into the alpha’s shoulders as little shudders ran down his spine. Senku’s lips trailed lower to the junction between neck and shoulder—where the mating mark lay.

It was nearly healed.

The alpha took note, then bit softly over the same spot, teeth grazing it with practiced care.

Gen let out a low moan, trembling from the sensation. “Senku-chan…”

Their hips began to move, grinding into each other—Senku rutting upward, Gen matching every push with his own need. It was reckless. It was absolutely not the right time.

But gods, it felt too good.

Senku licked the mark, then trailed kisses up to Gen’s jawline. The omega turned his head and caught his mouth, pulling him into another hungry kiss—hotter, deeper, and more desperate than before.

Water rippled and splashed around them with every movement, their lips slick and obscene, filling the air with breathy moans and wet, filthy sounds.

“Wait—ah—w-we can’t—” Gen whispered between kisses, breath airy, ragged. “They… they could come back any second…”

Senku chuckled, low and dangerous, swallowing the sweet noise Gen made.

“No? Soyuz takes an hour and a half to fish. Knowing Goldilocks, he’s probably getting distracted by the scenery while Suika shows him around…”

Senku resumed the kiss, cutting off any protest the omega might have made.

“Besides,” he murmured as he pried his mate’s mouth open, slipping his tongue inside.

Their tongues met—slow, slick, sensual. The contact sent a jolt through Gen, making him buck his hips forward with a whimper.

Senku pulled away for a breath, a thin string of saliva stretching between their lips.

The alpha paused, his gaze devouring the sight before him—Gen, utterly undone. All teary-eyed, face flushed, lips red and puffy, squirming in his lap.

A beautiful, debauched mess.

His beautiful, debauched mess.

And it was all because of him.

Senku’s heart beat faster with a possessiveness he rarely let show.

“He’s probably declared the whole island as—” Senku leaned in, catching Gen’s bottom lip between his teeth. His voice dropped into a low, feral growl as he met those grey-blue eyes.

“Mine.”

If his slick hadn’t already started leaking from his hole, then it sure as hell was now.

Shit.

It was so unfair—just how turned on he was right now.

Gen tangled his fingers in the alpha’s damp hair and recaptured his lips in a kiss that was needy and hot, breath mingling as their mouths moved with familiar urgency. He felt Senku’s fingers trailing down, kneading the softness of his ass—spreading him open with firm, deliberate pressure.

Their cocks strained beneath soaked underwear, the fabric clinging tightly to heated flesh. It was stifling—too much and not enough.

Senku shifted, pushing Gen up slightly, his own bulge grinding against the omega’s covered hole. Gen whimpered, thighs trembling as he pushed back in encouragement.

The rough stone scraped against his knees, but he ignored it.

They needed to stop. They really need too. It was the right thing to do… right?

“They’ll know—” Gen panted as he pulled away for a breath. He gasped when one of Senku’s hands tugged his underwear aside. His hole clenched around nothing. “They’ll know what we were doing, Senku-chan—”

Senku’s finger brushed the rim of his entrance, teasing the slick there—too much to ignore. Too wet to resist. He leaned in, nose dragging along the omega’s collar as he murmured low against his skin.

“Isn’t that natural? We’re mates.”

“Y-Yes!” Gen choked out, voice cracking as a finger slipped inside with humiliating ease.

“But—our scents…” he whimpered, clutching at Senku’s shoulders. “The smell of sex will be everywhere.”

“Hm.” Senku stuck out his tongue in concentration, curling his finger inside the omega and feeling the way Gen’s inner muscles fluttered around him. He moved slowly, deliberately, coaxing out moans and soft, breathy gasps from the pliant body in his arms.

“So?” he asked, voice low, almost teasing.

“Ooh…” Gen whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut against the flood of pleasure. His forehead came to rest against Senku’s, and he panted in short, helpless breaths. Senku’s eyes gleamed with a heady mix of lust and satisfaction—clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from his mate.

Gen bit his lip in restraint, trying to form a coherent thought even as his hips rolled back against the alpha’s fingers. “Still—mmm—we have to stop—ah!”

Another finger joined the first, and this time Senku pressed just right—dead center on that spot that made Gen see stars. He cried out as his vision whited out for a brief, shuddering moment.

“If you’re worried about the smell,” Senku said, lips brushing Gen’s ear, “I can take care of it. Do you trust me, mentalist?”

His voice was soft yet sure, and his eyes locked onto Gen’s like he was the only thing that existed in the universe.

“Y-Yes,” Gen gasped, voice trembling. “God, yes—I trust you.”

“Then leave it to me,” Senku murmured huskily.

He focused again, working Gen open with determined, skilled fingers. The way Gen trembled in his arms, hole slick and pulsing around him, made the alpha’s patience wear dangerously thin.

His other hand moved down, tugging his underwear out of the way with urgency. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, aching.

Finally.

He leaned in and kissed Gen’s neck, tongue flicking across his scent gland before nipping at the flushed skin. At the same time, he pushed in a third finger, twisting slightly as he stretched Gen wider, prepping him for what came next.

Almost there.

Gen couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want to pretend or hold back—not now, not when he felt this desperate and full of need. His pride melted away as he surrendered to the moment.

“Please, please, Senku-chan…” he begged, voice trembling.

Senku smirked, his tone playful but dark with desire. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Gen mewled, completely undone as Senku’s fingers grazed that sensitive spot inside him again. “I need you inside me—now.”

The fingers slipped out, and Gen whimpered at the sudden emptiness, tears springing to his eyes from the loss. But they were quickly replaced by something better, something larger, familiar, and thick with heat. Just the feel of Senku’s cock rubbing teasingly against his rim made Gen’s mouth water.

Of course, Senku had to tease. He ground the tip against the tight ring of muscle, never quite breaching it, watching Gen squirm and clench, his body silently begging to be filled.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Senku whispered in a breathy tone, “how could I ever deny you, Gen?”

With a firm grip on his mate’s hips, the alpha slowly guided him down. Gen’s mouth fell open in a silent cry as Senku’s cock slid inside, inch by inch, stretching him so perfectly. His body welcomed it, sucked it in greedily, like it had been made to hold only this.

They both groaned—deep, guttural sounds that spoke of relief and hunger. Once fully seated, they stilled for a moment, pressed flush together. Gen clung to Senku’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin, trying to catch his breath.

Their chests heaved against one another, foreheads nearly touching.

Gen looked up through hazy eyes, watching Senku’s expression closely—his jaw clenched, brows furrowed, a faint tremble in his arms as he held himself back. His cheeks were red, breath uneven. He looked like he was hanging on by a thread.

Gen’s lips curled into a sly smile. Slowly, deliberately, he clenched around him.

Senku’s breath hitched; his eyes fluttered.

“You little—” he growled low in his throat, but Gen just bit his lip and ground forward slightly, forcing a shaky gasp from both of them.

Senku’s grip tightened around his waist, halting his movement.

“Move…” Gen pouted breathlessly, leaning in to kiss his jaw, his neck, anywhere he could reach.“Please, Senku-chan… move.”

Senku didn’t need to be told twice. With a sharp exhale through gritted teeth, he shifted his stance and rolled his hips upward—slow, deep, deliberate. Gen let out a choked moan, his head falling forward against Senku’s shoulder as the alpha moved, each thrust sending waves of heat curling through his belly and chest.

“God—ah—” Gen whimpered as Senku hit that sweet spot again and again. His body responded instinctively, back arching, legs trembling as pleasure surged through him like fire laced with honey. “So deep…”

“You look so good like this,” Senku murmured against his neck, voice rough and reverent. “How lucky am I…”

Gen let out a shaky laugh, almost a sob. “You definitely used up all your luck on me~”

Senku chuckled low, the sound vibrating against Gen’s skin as he thrust again—harder, deeper. His hands gripped Gen’s hips like he was anchoring himself to him. “Maybe I did,” he whispered, brushing a kiss beneath Gen’s ear. “The fact that you belong to me now, all mine…”

The water rippled from their movements. Gen shivered, heart skipping a beat. “When you say it like that, it sounds like you had a celebrity crush on me before the petrification.”

He cupped Senku’s cheeks, thumb gently circling along his skin. Gen tilted his head and let out another moan, jolting from the sharp thrust that followed. “Did you, Senku-chan?”

He was curious—half hoping the alpha would say yes, that he’d caught Senku’s eye even before the world turned to stone. But then he remembered their first meeting, how Senku called him a fraud… so he doubted it.

Senku turned slightly, nuzzling into Gen’s palm. He gazed up at him sharply and murmured against his hand, “If I tell you, you’ll just get conceited.”

The omega’s chest swelled with a rush of emotion—joy, ecstasy, something bright and overwhelming. With a needy whimper, he crashed his lips against the alpha’s in a hungry kiss.

Senku moved inside him with a steady rhythm now, his hips rolling, cock brushing that spot that made Gen see stars—no, constellations—entire galaxies. They were lost in each other: sweat-slicked skin, whispered promises between kisses, the pounding rush of blood in their ears.

He didn’t know how long had passed, only that the pressure in his belly was coiling tight, winding fast. His head tipped back. “Senku-chan, I’m—”

“Same here,” Senku grunted, picking up the pace, deep and relentless, driving Gen to sob with pleasure.

“Inside!” Gen gasped, meeting each thrust with eager, desperate need. “Please, inside me…”

He felt it—that beginning swell of the alpha’s knot. It expanded, locking them together, and Gen’s whole body seized and trembled. A loud, broken moan tore from his throat, echoing through the cave as he came. A moment later, Senku followed with a sharp groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled deep inside his mate.

Senku rolled his hips gently, coaxing them through the high, his hands steady on Gen’s waist. Their breaths mingled, heavy and warm, as the knot swelled fully, locking them in place.

Gen leaned his forehead against Senku’s, eyes fluttering closed as he sighed—a sound full of contentment. Happy. Full.

They both knew they’d be stuck like this for a while.

Eventually, Gen pulled back just enough to shoot him a playful glare, lips curving in a soft pout. “I still want my bath, you know~”

Senku laughed, the sound deep and unguarded, his chest rumbling. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Okay, okay,” he said fondly, pressing a kiss to Gen’s temple. “I’ll help you wash your hair, mentalist.”

-

When the group returned to the cave, they were surprised to find the couple seated near a fire, with the air tinged by a sharp metallic scent.

Senku was hunched over his work, burning down scrap metal with focused intensity. Sparks flickered occasionally, casting warm flashes against the cave walls.

“We brought more fruits, fabric for clothes, and some fish!” Suika announced cheerfully as she leapt from the boat onto the sand. Her sharp eyes flicked between them. “You guys seem like you’re in a good mood! What did you do while we were gone?”

“Oh!” Gen glanced around innocently and gestured to the disassembled mobile lab nearby. “I helped Senku-chan take apart the lab—with my delicate little hands.”

Ryusui crossed his arms, his brows raising slightly. Unlike Soyuz and Suika, the alpha wasn’t fooled for a second. He took in the signs—the slightly damp hair, the faint flush on Gen’s cheeks, the easy calm on Senku’s face—and connected the dots instantly.

A smug grin curled across his lips.

Gen caught the look and felt dread bloom in his stomach. Ryusui’s teasing eyes met his, and then—he wiggled his eyebrows.

Gen groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. I knew it…

“Looks like you two worked real hard while we were gone!” Ryusui drawled, laughter bubbling up as he watched Gen squirm.

Senku merely shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Something like that,” he said, scratching the side of his head.

“I’ll get started on the food…” Gen muttered, ducking his head as he moved to join Soyuz near the supplies, desperate to change the subject.

After a quick lunch break, the team returned to working on the oxygen tanks. Senku’s elevated mood was impossible to miss—he was focused, efficient, and even humming softly under his breath.

Soyuz and Suika didn’t think much of it, assuming the scientist was just thrilled to be building something again.

Ryusui, of course, knew better. He nodded in quiet approval and praised Senku’s renewed enthusiasm while stealing glances at Gen.

The omega, meanwhile, did his best to focus, cheeks still faintly pink. Embarrassment lingered, but he didn’t regret a thing.

Truthfully, he was happy.

Even if his backside ached and he had to walk a little more carefully, he couldn’t stop the slight bounce in his step as he worked.

Senku and Soyuz had even gone back to the mobile lab to grab whatever remaining materials they could salvage. Gen felt a twinge of guilt for their beta craftsman and offered a silent apology.

They only managed to produce two oxygen tanks with the limited supplies they’d recovered. Now, the mobile lab was missing several essential components and no longer the functional beauty it once was.

“Poor Kaseki-chan…” Gen mumbled under his breath.

“Don’t underestimate Kaseki’s skills,” Senku said confidently. “Once he’s revived, he’ll rebuild everything again—probably even better.”

“Exactly,” Ryusui agreed. “He’ll have this place up and running in no time.”

Gen placed his hands on his hips and let out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s good to elieve-bay in people, and Kaseki-chan is incredibly talented, but that’s still a lot of work to dump on one guy.”

“Nonsense. He’ll be thrilled to get his hands on it again,” Senku replied with a smile. “Now, we need to fill up our oxygen tanks using the homemade pump.”

Gen winced as he eyed the contraption. “Ugh, this is going to take forever. I can feel it already.”

“Oh wow, this is pretty easy!” Suika chirped as she worked the pump, the lever rising and falling with ease.

Curious, Gen stepped forward and gave it a try. To his surprise, the handle moved without much resistance. “Huh. What do you know? I was expecting this to be a lot harder.”

“It is—eventually,” Senku said, smirking. “Right now, we’re just hitting two atmospheric pressure. It’s basically a glorified bike pump at this stage.”

They all took turns pumping air into the oxygen tanks. But once the pressure began to rise, Gen found himself struggling. He couldn’t manage to push it past two atmospheres—it was simply too much for him.

He quietly stepped aside and passed the task over to Soyuz, watching the alpha take over effortlessly, the lever moving up and down in his grip like it weighed nothing at all.

To Gen, it felt like inflating an already full bicycle tire. Each push down on the pump got harder and harder. It didn’t help that he had to bend his knees—already scratched, possibly bruised, and still bleeding slightly from scraping against the cave’s rocky floor during his earlier encounter with Senku.

And this was just the first tank. They hadn’t even started on the second one yet.

Senku would announce the current pressure level every time they pushed up an atmosphere. When they reached ten, Soyuz began to visibly struggle, prompting Ryusui to eventually take over. The golden-haired alpha managed to last until fifteen, insisting stubbornly that he could go all the way to twenty. But eventually, he accepted Soyuz’s help, and the two alphas tag-teamed the pump until they reached twenty-six atmospheres.

“Senku, stop gawking and get over here!” Ryusui barked. With a sigh, Senku joined the other two alphas, assisting with the final stretches of the pump effort.

Meanwhile, Gen and Suika watched from the sidelines, munching on fruit and offering the occasional cheer or sarcastic praise.

Of course, it was too good to last.

They needed all hands on deck.

Gen reluctantly stepped in to help again, though he felt his presence added little. He simply wasn’t strong enough for this kind of work.

He was panting heavily, chest rising and falling as he threw all his effort into pressing down the pump lever. They had just passed atmosphere thirty-four, and Gen couldn’t do it anymore.

He felt dizzy. Nauseous. That fish from earlier came back to haunt him.

His vision swam, black spots blooming at the edges.

He took a step back and staggered. His hands dropped away from the pump. A sharp throb rang in his head, and he brought his hand to his temple, trying to massage away the sudden pain.

The dizziness surged.

“Senku-chan…” Gen slurred, voice barely above a whisper. His legs gave out beneath him. “I don’t feel so—”

The rest of the sentence never came.

Senku’s head snapped up the moment Gen’s voice broke through the air. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

The sound, the tone—it sent every protective instinct in the alpha’s body flaring to life.

He looked just in time to see Gen begin to fall backward.

“Gen!”

Senku lunged, catching his mate before he could hit the stone floor. One arm cradled beneath Gen’s shoulders, the other supporting his waist as they both collapsed down, Senku landing on the ground with Gen limp in his lap.

The omega was frighteningly pale.

“Oh no, Gen!” Suika’s worried voice rang out.

It was clear that his mate had fainted. Thankfully, Senku was well-versed in first aid and knew what to do. He gently eased Gen onto his left side—a position that would help keep blood flowing to the heart and prevent pressure on any major vessels. His eyes stayed fixed on Gen’s chest, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing. It was shallow, but steady. Still, Senku couldn’t hide the tightening in his chest.

He had to loosen Gen’s clothing to help him breathe. Carefully, Senku untied the cord of Gen’s obi and slipped it off, discarding it to the side.

Suika approached, hovering nervously. “What can I do to help Gen, Senku?”

“When he wakes up, we’ll need to give him water or juice. It’ll help rehydrate him and stabilize his blood sugar,” Senku said as he parted Gen’s yukata to reveal the high-collared shirt underneath. As usual, his mate had bundled himself up in far too many layers.

“Okay! I can do that!” Suika turned and scampered off toward the food prep area. The table was already clean, so she grabbed a knife and began slicing some pineapple into small pieces. Francois often added fruit to their water—this might help, she reasoned.

Senku untied the strings of Gen’s undershirt, loosening the collar slightly—only halfway. The marks he’d left earlier on Gen’s neck and collarbone were faint but visible. That wasn’t something he wanted to explain to Suika. Or worse, endure Ryusui’s smug grin. Or Soyuz’s squeamish flailing. One compliment from Amaryllis had knocked the poor guy out cold last time.

Senku sighed through his nose and glanced back down. Gen’s expression was peaceful, but something about his stillness felt… off. His skin was paler than usual, and his pulse, though present, was just a touch too slow for comfort. Senku couldn’t explain the gnawing unease in his gut—like he was missing something important.

Now he needed to elevate Gen’s legs, about thirty centimeters, to help blood flow back to his heart and brain.

Suika returned, a cup in hand. She looked around before placing it carefully on the ground, away from Gen’s body in case he moved or knocked it over. “What else?”

“We need to raise his legs about twelve inches. It’ll help with circulation,” Senku said as he adjusted Gen’s posture slightly and continued monitoring his breathing.

“Would it be better if Gen was on his back?” Suika asked as she bent down and gently grasped his ankles, ready to help.

Senku froze for a moment.

Something told him that might not be a good idea.

“I think…” Ryusui grunted, gripping the lever tightly with both hands. “…he pushed himself too hard!”

“Yes…” Soyuz gasped as he struggled to catch his breath. “I mean—ugh—this isn’t really work for an omega… no offense!”

Senku’s brows furrowed as he frowned, lips pressing into a line. They weren’t wrong—on average, omegas weren’t built as physically strong as alphas. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t handle hard labor. Times had changed. Ukyo, for example, was an omega, and Senku had no doubt Ukyo could take him down in a fight without breaking a sweat.

But Gen wasn’t Ukyo.

Gen wasn’t built for heavy work. He wasn’t physically strong—not in the way they needed for this task. And after the strain Senku had already put him through today, he was starting to realize… maybe he’d pushed his mate too far.

Especially after earlier that day.

They hadn’t exactly had time to rest, and their lovemaking hadn’t exactly been gentle. Senku’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“Argh…” The body beside him stirred, and Senku’s gaze snapped down to see Gen blinking slowly up at him, eyes glazed with fatigue.

“Mentalist,” Senku said softly, his hands hovering close but not touching, afraid to jostle him.

Gen squinted up at him, then let out a quiet sigh. “I can hear what you’re thinking… It’s not your fault. I’m fine.”

“No, it is my fault. I’ve been a terrible mate—”

Gen reached up and pressed a soft hand over his lips.

“Never. Never say that you’re terrible.” His voice was firm, if a little breathless. “You’re always so good to me. I couldn’t have asked for anyone else.”

Senku’s chest tightened as he gently helped Gen sit up, supporting his back as he moved.

“I’m just exhausted, that’s all,” Gen murmured, leaning into him. “I need a good break and I’ll help you guys out again.”

Senku didn’t say anything at first. He just held Gen steady, eyes studying him carefully. The omega was warm, maybe a little too warm. His pulse was soft, his breathing still shallow.

And still—something wasn’t adding up.

“Gen, Senku told me to give you this once you woke up. It should help you feel better,” Suika said as she held out the cup filled with water and bits of fruit.

Gen accepted it with a small smile, his hands a little shaky as he took it. “Thank you, my dear.”

“It’s better for you to rest now. You might still experience a few symptoms,” Senku explained, stepping closer. “You can leave the rest of the work to us. We just reached thirty-five atmospheres of pressure. From here on, it’s going to get even tougher. It’s already evening.”

“I can still—” Gen started, but was immediately silenced by the sharp look Senku shot him.

“Nope,” the alpha said firmly. “Usually, you’d be thrilled at the idea of getting to take a break. Just rest, Mentalist.”

Gen pouted, glancing off to the side. A break did sound tempting—manual labor was never his strong suit—but he knew how important it was to retrieve Kaseki’s statue and search for the rest of their crewmates.

Still, Senku’s tone left no room for argument.

“I’ll keep an eye on you. Just keep me updated on how you’re feeling,” Senku added. “You’re my number one priority. Kaseki and the others can wait a day or two—we’re not going anywhere.”

Gen let out a slow breath, resting his weight more fully against his mate behind him. “Aside from the dizziness and fatigue, I feel… extremely nauseous.”

He grimaced, clutching the cup a little tighter. “I don’t know if it’s the fainting spell or the fact that we’ve been eating nothing but fish for the last three days—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—but I think I might actually vomit this time…”

“That’s okay. It’s completely normal.” Senku reached down and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it aside. “If you’re going to vomit, it’s better to do it before you hydrate.”

“Bleh… I need to get away from here…” Gen groaned, beginning to stand up. Senku was already there, slipping an arm around his waist to steady him.

“Easy. Try not to get up too fast. Nice and slow,” Senku murmured, guiding him carefully away from the others.

“Hmm…” Gen’s brows knit together as he glanced down, suddenly noticing that his obi was missing and his yukata hung loosely from his shoulders. “My clothes…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Senku said. “We’ll fix it once you’re done.”

Suika watched quietly as the couple moved a few paces away. Then, Gen suddenly stopped short and hunched forward, one hand flying to his stomach.

Senku could feel it even before Gen doubled over.

The gag came first, sharp and sudden. Gen’s free hand pushed weakly at Senku’s chest. “Go—go—hurk—”

And then it all came up.

Gen heaved, vomit splattering against the dirt with a wet sound. Tears sprang to his eyes as his throat burned, the acidic taste lingering on his tongue. Sweat beaded along his brow, and he folded inward, arms hugging his midsection.

But through the wave of discomfort, he felt Senku’s hand gently sweeping back his white hair, fingers cool and careful behind his ear. The other hand pressed between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow, comforting circles.

“You’re okay,” Senku murmured softly, barely above a whisper. “Just let it out. I’ve got you.”

Gen didn’t know how much time had passed since he started throwing up, but he knew he was nearing the end when all he could do was dry heave. Once nothing more came out, he slumped forward, shoulders trembling as he drew in shaky, uneven breaths. He felt completely drained. One unsteady hand rose to his mouth, wiping away the lingering saliva from the corner of his lips.

His vision blurred from the tears still clinging to his lashes. Now that the worst had passed, his awareness slowly returned—he could hear the rhythmic breathing and grunts of the two alphas still working the pumps in the background.

But most of all, he felt Senku.

His mate’s hand hadn’t stopped its steady, soothing motion against his back, and the low whispers grounding him helped keep the nausea from flaring up again. With gentle hands, Senku guided Gen’s delicate frame into his arms, pressing his head gently to his chest.

“How do you feel now?” Senku asked softly.

Gen let out a weak, breathy laugh. “Weak… but better.” A few fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’ll be okay now.”

“Let’s get you to our tent. I’ll have Suika watch over you for a bit. Just focus on resting.” Senku shifted back and helped guide Gen toward their designated camp.

Gen sniffled and nodded. “Okay…”

Once they reached their tent, Senku stopped and stepped in front of Gen, gently cupping his mate’s face. The omega’s expression was still teary, cheeks flushed and lips trembling. Senku wiped his tears away with his thumbs and gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Mentalist.”

“I know…” Gen mumbled, covering his mouth with one hand. “I just feel gross and disgusting right now. My breath stinks.”

“That’s an easy fix,” Senku replied smoothly. “But I’m not kissing you at the moment.”

Gen pouted behind his hand. His mate had a point—he would’ve said the same thing if their roles were reversed—but it still stung a little. “Whatever…”

Senku chuckled and leaned in, bringing Gen’s face closer before pressing a firm kiss to his forehead.

“That doesn’t exclude forehead kisses,” he said, before kissing one of Gen’s eyelids. “Or this…” Another kiss, this time to his cheek. “Or these…” And finally, a soft kiss to the tip of Gen’s nose.

The omega blushed brightly, eyes wide as he muffled the surprised squeak behind his palm.

Senku gave him a satisfied smile, but it quickly faded as he turned serious, already dreading the task of returning to the pump. “Alright. Wish me luck. I need all of it.”

Gen let out a light laugh and lowered his hand from his mouth. “I’ll send all of my luck your way. Work hard for the both of us, my love~”

Senku flushed faintly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Good.”

With that, he turned and began walking back toward the worksite, shoulders squaring as he rejoined Ryusui and Soyuz. Gen watched him go, his smile lingering for a moment longer before he turned his gaze toward the tent.

He sighed, crouched down, and parted the flap open, crawling inside. The interior was dim and quiet—just the way he liked it after a long, draining day. Gen settled himself in the middle of the tent, slipping off his purple overcoat and letting it fall beside him. He left his yukata loosely wrapped around him, not bothering to tie it. Senku would likely bring his obi later anyway.

For now, rest was all he needed.

He lay back slowly, careful not to upset his still-sensitive stomach. A soft breath escaped him as he adjusted to the bedroll’s gentle give beneath him.

He was still a little thirsty, though.

His thoughts drifted toward the cup Senku had set aside earlier—the one with the fruit water—but it was back near the pump site. Too far to bother with now. Gen closed his eyes, deciding he’d ask Suika to bring it if she came to check in.

His hand drifted to his stomach, fingers resting lightly against it.

“…So weird,” he mumbled to himself, frowning faintly.

His nausea hadn’t fully faded. The dizziness had eased, but his body still felt off. Not just weak—strange.

Gen pushed the thought aside and pulled a blanket over his lap. Maybe he just needed sleep.

________

September 15th, 5741 AD

Throughout the rest of the night, Suika diligently checked in on Gen, never failing to bring him water and updates from the others. She eventually delivered the drink he’d left behind, now slightly warm but still refreshing enough to ease the dryness in his throat. The little pup kept him informed and relayed Gen’s condition back to Senku, who was far too preoccupied to come himself.

At one point, Suika didn’t return right away, and Gen, curious, peeked out from the tent flap.

He immediately froze, blinking in disbelief at the sight before him.

Senku, Ryusui, and Soyuz were all hanging off the pump lever, their full weight pulling it downward as the handmade system roared with effort. They dangled midair like stubborn ornaments, sweat dripping from their brows. Nearby, Suika was dutifully pouring water over the metal chamber in intervals to keep it from overheating.

When Soyuz, breathless and strained, asked how long it would take, Senku had replied with frightening calm: “Five hours… times the number of tanks.”

Gen winced in pity. Poor things. He wasn’t even sure if Soyuz had enough core strength to hold out for that long.

Ten grueling hours passed, dragging into early morning. The work finally ended not because the job was finished, but because the pump exploded. Thankfully, no one was hurt—just singed pride and sore muscles.

Now, the trio was back on the boat, anchored at the same dive site as the day before. Gen, Senku, and Suika stood at the edge, peering down into the rippling water, waiting.

Somewhere below the surface, Ryusui and Soyuz were retrieving the statue of their beloved craftsman.

Gen sat beside his mate, loosely wrapped in his purple overcoat with his obi only half-tied. His hair was slightly tousled, but the color had returned to his face. Though still tired, he looked far more stable and refreshed after having cleaned himself up.

He watched the water with quiet anticipation, one hand resting gently on his stomach—subconsciously, without realizing.

Gen leaned forward, resting the other hand on the edge of the boat to peer into the water alongside Suika. “How long will those tanks last, Senku-chan?”

“It depends how deep and far they go,” the alpha replied. “But roughly around ten minutes.”

“Really?” Gen frowned. “After you guys worked for ten hours…”

“And the pump exploded too…” Suika sighed, shaking her head before her eyes lit up with determination. “If anyone can find them, it’s Ryusui! He knows the ocean better than anyone—besides Ukyo, of course!”

Gen chuckled. “Those two are a match made in heaven. I swear they’re meant to be. Fated, even.”

“Uh-huh! I can’t picture them with anyone else. I can’t wait until they’re together again!” Suika said cheerfully.

Just then, a splash echoed from the distance. Three jellyfish bobbed to the surface—one of their coded signals.

“That means they found everyone,” Senku said, a grin spreading across his face.

“Including our craftsman. Kaseki-chan…” Gen whispered, a soft smile on his lips.

“I’m so happy!” Suika bounced with excitement. “We get to revive all our friends again!”

“You’re right, but our priority right now is Kaseki. Without him, we’re screwed,” Senku said, adjusting his seated position. “Now that we know where everyone is, it’ll be much easier to plan the retrievals.”

Gen shifted beside him, slowly pushing himself up onto his knees. “I’m getting worried… shouldn’t we be seeing a signal to reel them in soon?”

He glanced at the rope in his hands, then out over the water.

Beside him, Senku lifted two fingers to his face—the familiar pose he always used when deep in calculation. Except… this time he didn’t use just one finger like usual.

Gen blinked and stared, warmth blooming in his chest. That wasn’t Senku’s original gesture. It was his. A teasing little impression Gen used to do—two fingers raised like an exaggerated thinker.

His heart fluttered.

Senku had picked it up.

“Gen, tug four times—they only have four minutes of oxygen left,” Senku instructed.

Gen did as he was told, giving the rope four sharp tugs. A moment later, the line jerked back.

He felt the tension in the rope and quickly recognized the familiar rhythm. Morse code.

“They’re trying to send a message…” Gen murmured. “Tug, tug… tug-tug?”

“Dash-dash, dot-dot…” Senku muttered, leaning over his mate’s shoulder to watch the rope twitch. “That’s ‘Z’ in English Morse. But do they realize how long it’ll take to spell anything out? They don’t have enough oxygen for a full conversation.”

Gen’s eyes lit up with confidence. “It’s fine, Senku-chan. It won’t take that long. Friends like us don’t need full words to understand each other.”

He let go of the rope, letting it continue its repeated tugging pattern. Then, with a small smirk, Gen mimicked Senku’s iconic thinking pose—two fingers raised to his face, deep in concentration.

Ryusui had replied immediately after they warned him of the remaining air—whatever he needed must be urgent. It wasn’t a sentence, Gen was sure. Not with that kind of pressure. It had to be a single word.

A word that started with ‘Z’? No, that didn’t feel right.

Wait—Japanese Morse code.

Dash-dash, dot-dot. That wasn’t ‘Z’—it was Fu.

Gen’s eyes sharpened, and he lowered his hand. He turned to his mate. “Quick, Ryusui-chan needs something that starts with Fu.”

Senku’s eyes widened—then gleamed with understanding.

“Goldilocks wants the revival fluid,” the alpha grinned. “Let’s send him a bottle.”

He pulled out a vial from one of his pouches and tied it securely to the rope. With one last snicker, Senku placed it into the water.

All three of them—Senku, Gen, and Suika—watched in silence as the bottle disappeared beneath the surface, tugged swiftly into the deep.

“What? Are they going to revive someone underwater?” Suika gasped, wide-eyed.

Gen’s brows furrowed in concern. “Wait, how is that even possible, Senku-chan?”

“Our ocean expert will ten billion percent create an air pocket using the last of his oxygen tank,” Senku replied confidently, arms crossed as he stared at the rippling surface.

“Huh… I couldn’t imagine waking up underwater,” Gen muttered, his gaze locked on the dark waves. “They’re almost out of time.”

“I’m worried… wouldn’t Kaseki freak out?” Suika tilted her head anxiously.

Senku smirked. “I’ve got a hunch it’s not Kaseki they’re reviving—at least not yet. With the pressure down there, his statue probably got stuck. They need someone strong enough to pull him out.”

Just then, bubbles broke the surface in front of the boat.

“They’re coming up!” Suika exclaimed, pointing.

“Someone with immense strength…” Gen repeated thoughtfully—then his expression lit up. “Could it be our dear Taiju-chan?”

They all shifted to make room at the edge of the boat as the others surfaced.

Senku instinctively pulled Gen close, securing him with an arm around his waist. The omega wobbled slightly, squeaking as the boat rocked, but Senku kept him steady, guiding him fully into his lap while keeping an eye on the water.

First came Kaseki’s statue, lifted out in two pieces—Taiju held the upper half, while Soyuz carefully cradled the lower. Ryusui emerged next, gripping the edge of the boat before hoisting himself up, dripping and triumphant.

Senku’s grin widened. “Long time no see, Kaseki… ya big oaf.”

Gen clutched the rail with a dramatic gasp as the boat shifted again under the weight of the returning divers. Senku chuckled and tightened his hold around his waist.

Then, with a loud cheer, Taiju climbed aboard. “We’re back in action!”

They had all returned to the Sapphire Cave and pieced Kaseki’s statue back together. They covered the old beta’s lower region with a cloth that resembled a long skirt, but Gen could still see he was missing a piece on his lower back—one that was oddly shaped like the poop emoji.

His mate, on the other hand, marched up excitedly, holding a bottle of revival fluid the moment he saw their craftsman was nearly complete. But Gen immediately stepped in front of him, grabbing the alpha’s wrist with one hand and placing the other on his shoulder to stop him in place.

“Wait, wait!” Gen frowned, jerking his head toward the statue behind him. “Kaseki-chan isn’t complete. He’s still issing-may a part!”

Senku stared at him as Gen pointed at his chest. “You’re too eager, my dear, but Kaseki-chan might end up with a permanent scar shaped like a poop emoji. I wouldn’t wish that upon—well, maybe my enemies—but poor dear Kaseki-chan doesn’t deserve that!”

“That does look like poop!” Soyuz cringed at the shape on the statue’s back.

“Waaah! Kaseki is going to be stuck with a poop-shaped scar for the rest of his life!” Suika wailed.

Gen sighed, releasing Senku’s wrist, and pivoted toward the statue. He pointed at the shape with a finger and looked back at Senku. “See? It’s even big!”

“Eh? That’s nothing. He’ll be fine. I don’t think our trusty craftsman would mind.” Senku stroked his chin, examining the mark.

Ryusui copied the gesture, stroking his invisible beard. “It’ll just be a scar—like yours, Senku.”

“Yeah, but Senku and Gen’s marks look cool. And Kaseki’s… well, I feel terrible!” Suika shrieked.

“We’re in the Stone World, people. Nobody’s going to care about that.” Senku scratched his ear with his pinky.

“Senku-chan, if it were me, I would care. I would care a lot. You might as well leave me petrified, because I wouldn’t want to be revived with a poop-shaped scar,” Gen grumbled, pinching his mate’s cheek playfully. Senku let him.

“Hehe… we could always wait for the big oaf to return,” Senku grinned at him.

“Hmm…” Ryusui began to chuckle to himself like he was in on a private joke. “What are the odds one of the other statues ends up with a penis—”

Gen scrambled over to the golden-haired alpha and clamped a hand over his mouth. He did not want to hear the words penis-shaped scar spoken out loud in front of their sweet, innocent pup.

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Nanami Ryusui-chan…”

Ryusui’s eyes widened at Gen’s warning tone.

“Ukyo-chan won’t like it once he finds out you were about to say something vulgar in front of our dear little Suika-chan…” Gen smiled sweetly, but judging by the pale look on Ryusui’s face, his threat landed.

“Whooooohoooo! I collected everyone’s parts!” Taiju emerged from the water, triumphantly holding up a pile of stone fragments and pieces.

Gen pushed Ryusui away and walked toward the cheerful alpha. “Taiju-chan!”

“Hey Gen! Where should I leave these? I wanna go back in the water and grab more statues and parts,” Taiju said happily, cradling an armful of stone fragments.

“You can leave them right there. It shouldn’t be an issue—we’ll piece everyone back together,” Gen replied, gesturing toward an open patch of ground. Taiju followed the suggestion and carefully set them down.

Gen crouched, scanning through the fragments in hopes of finding a piece that matched the odd shape missing from Kaseki’s back.

“From the ocean floor?” Ryusui asked, astonished.

“How? We don’t have any more oxygen tanks,” Soyuz added, staring with his mouth slightly open.

“It’s all thanks to you guys that I know where to look! It only takes a few minutes to swim there and back. I can hold my breath for a long time, so it’s no problem!” Taiju exclaimed with enthusiasm. “When it comes to endurance, nobody can beat me!”

“Taiju-chan, do you know which piece belongs to Kaseki-chan?” Gen called out, sorting through the pile beside him.

“Nope! But I’ll bring back every single piece, promise!” Taiju beamed before charging back into the water.

“Taiju, no matter how incredible your stamina is, there’s no way you can carry all of them back while swimming,” Ryusui sighed, shaking his head.

As the overly eager alpha began swimming off, he shouted back, “I’ll bring them little by little! It should only take about 200 or 300 trips!”

Soyuz climbed onto the boat and started rowing toward him, looking worried. “Taiju… please. Just use the boat. I’ll help you. We can load the pieces here and save your energy.”

“Oh yeah! Thanks, Soyuz—you’re the best!” Taiju laughed as he hoisted himself up onto the boat.

“Two hundred or three hundred? He said that like it’s nothing…” Suika blinked in disbelief.

Senku burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Bahaha! Your reactions are priceless! How are you all still not used to how insane Taiju is? Seeing you dumbfounded never gets old!”

Gen chuckled alongside his mate. “Now I finally understand why you two get along so well despite being polar opposites. I used to wonder about it but watching you both, you really do share the same resilience. Never folding in the face of adversity.”

As Taiju made trip after trip delivering statue parts and pieces, the rest of the group began piecing together the fragments of their friends and crewmates. Everyone’s remains had been mixed together, forming a growing pile that they sifted through carefully.

One trip, Taiju managed to bring back the perfectly poop-shaped piece Kaseki had been missing. With that final piece, they were able to revive the old beta.

Kaseki was thrilled by the experience of being petrified, claiming he felt completely rejuvenated. To everyone’s shock, the old man even began doing flips with ease.

The group welcomed him back warmly, but Kaseki was immediately distraught when his eyes landed on the state of the dismantled lab. He wailed and scolded Senku, but the alpha cheered him up by explaining their new plan. While Kaseki got to work fixing the lab, Senku began building the propeller for their drone.

He dipped a few feathers in plastic and set them aside to harden. Once they were ready, Senku asked the old beta to make a fidget spinner, which left Gen in stunned silence.

While the science team—Senku and Kaseki—focused on their task, Gen, Ryusui, and Suika worked on assembling the statues like a giant puzzle.

Gen noticed how Ryusui searched for specific parts, likely belonging to Ukyo and Francois. Wanting to help, Gen began focusing on those two as well.

Ryusui gave him a silent thank-you, and Gen nodded in understanding. Together, they managed to piece together Ukyo’s lower and upper body. Ryusui carefully reattached Ukyo’s right arm. All that was left was the omega’s head.

Gen found it in the pile and frowned when he saw that half of Ukyo’s head was missing. Ryusui took the damaged piece into his hands, his expression tightening. He bit his lip hard, clearly holding himself together with effort.

Gen couldn’t imagine what the alpha was feeling—seeing his mate in pieces, holding the love of his life together like a broken puzzle. What would he do if he couldn’t find the missing part?

“Ukyo…” Ryusui murmured, his voice heavy with longing as he gently caressed the stone cheek with his fingers. He carefully placed the head back onto its rightful place.

The golden-haired alpha leaned in close, resting his forehead against his mate’s. “I swear to you—I’ll find your missing half. Even if I have to turn this entire place upside down, I’ll do it.”

Ryusui cupped Ukyo’s stone cheeks and pressed a tender kiss to the cold lips, whispering softly against them, “We’ll be together again soon, my love.”

Gen stood frozen, stunned by the scene. The moment was so raw and filled with love that his chest swelled with emotion. He truly felt for them both, and more than anything, he wanted to see them reunited.

A new kind of determination flared inside him. Without wasting another second, Gen turned back to the growing pile of fragments and began to dig through it with renewed purpose.

He eventually found it.

“Ryusui-chan! I found it!” Gen called out excitedly, holding the missing piece high.

Ryusui rushed over, eyes wide, and took the offered stone from Gen’s hands. He hurried back to the statue and carefully placed the final piece onto Ukyo’s head. As it clicked into place, he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank you, Gen…”

“Anytime. Ukyo-chan’s my best friend, you know.” Gen beamed, his heart lifting as he gazed at the completed form of his friend’s statue.

“I brought more fabric we can use to cover them up!” Suika chirped as she ran over, arms full of cloth. She handed them to Ryusui, who immediately wrapped his mate’s body with care and reverence.

“Thank you, Suika,” Ryusui said warmly, patting the pup’s helmet.

“We’re almost done with Francois-chan too,” Gen called out. “We’re just missing an arm.”

“An arm? Wait—I think I saw one!” Suika scampered back to the pile of fragments, digging through with focused eyes until she spotted a stone arm sticking out. She grabbed it and happily brought it over. “Here it is!”

“Good job! That’s our detective Suika-chan!” Gen praised, taking the arm from her and gently attaching it to Francois’s statue in its rightful place.

“Yay!” Suika cheered, bouncing in place before darting off to continue helping with the other statues.

Gen took a few steps back and looked between Ukyo’s and Francois’s completed forms. The longer he stared, the more overwhelmed he became—his vision blurred with tears. He missed them so much.

“Ukyo-chan… Francois-chan…”

Ryusui blinked at the sudden choked sob and turned toward him. “Uh, Gen?”

“I missed them so much!” Gen cried, covering his face with both hands. “I wanna hug them—but I’m terrified I’ll knock them over and we’ll have to start all over again!”

Ryusui let out a soft laugh and reached out to ruffle the omega’s hair. “It’ll be okay. We’ll revive them soon enough. You look like you wanna tackle my mate into a hug—but you’ll have to wait your turn.”

“It’s okay,” Gen sniffled, wiping at his tears. “I can wait a little longer. You two deserve your long-awaited lovers’ reunion… but after that, I’m hogging Ukyo-chan.”

Ryusui gave a mock-serious nod. “A good ol’ game of tug-of-war, huh? I’m not gonna lose, Gen.” His hand lingered atop Gen’s head, soft but steady. “I won’t.”

Gen looked up at the golden alpha, cheeks still damp, lashes wet—but his eyes sparked with determination and just a hint of challenge. “Bring it on, Ryusui-chan.”

Taiju’s booming voice echoed throughout the cave, signaling his return just as the sun began to set.

“Hey, why’s Gen crying?” Senku popped up behind Ryusui, shooting the blond alpha a pointed glare. “What did you say to him?”

“Hm?” Ryusui looked unfazed as he pulled Gen into a loose hug. “We’re bonding over my mate. We can’t wait to see Ukyo.”

Gen let out a breathy laugh, squished slightly in the man’s arms. “He’s right. I’m okay, Senku-chan. I just got a little emotional seeing their statues again.”

Senku sighed, then promptly stepped in to separate the two. With a hand on Gen’s back, he gently guided his mate away from Ryusui and toward his workstation. “If you’re done, then I need your help, mentalist.”

“Wait—is this going to require any heavy lifting?” Gen whined as he was tugged along. “I can’t do that, remember what happened yesterday?”

“Nope. You don’t have to worry about any heavy lifting from now on,” Senku replied with a grin. “We’ve got Taiju for that!”

Even if Senku sounded casual, the memory of yesterday still clung to him like a cold weight. Seeing Gen faint like that—so suddenly, so pale—had left him shaken. His instincts had screamed that something was wrong. Something off. And seeing the limp omega in his arms had scared him more than he’d care to admit. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

“The only thing I need from you,” Senku continued as they reached the worktable, “is to count these shiny-looking spheres. They’ll come in different sizes, but we need an exact count to prep the foundation for the propeller.”

He pulled out a stool and motioned for Gen to sit.

“Just sit here, look nice and pretty, and count,” he instructed with a smirk.

Gen blinked, startled, then let out a small ‘oh’ as he saw small metallic balls—like glimmering beads—begin to fall and settle into a container from a contraption nearby. He reached out, eyes softening, and began sorting them without complaint.

Gen hummed a gentle tune as he worked in silence. Every so often, Senku would appear beside him—handing him water, or placing a small plate of sliced fruit by his side. Honestly, Gen had lost track of how many times his mate had come over just to fuss over him.

Eventually, Senku returned again—this time holding a coconut with a handmade straw poking out of it. He placed it carefully into Gen’s hands.

“Drink all of it,” he said matter-of-factly. “Once you finish the coconut water, let me know. I’ll crack it open so you can eat the inside too.”

Gen chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with affection. “You’re spoiling me, Senku-chan.”

But he knew—this wasn’t just doting. Yesterday had clearly rattled Senku more than he let on. That was why every time the alpha came by, Gen made sure to thank him properly: a soft smile, a kiss to the cheek or forehead, sometimes a gentle peck on the lips.

It was his way of saying: I see how much you care. And I appreciate it.

Eventually, Gen finished counting the beads and looked up from the workstation. To his surprise, almost all the stone statues had been pieced back together. Everyone was hard at work, smiles on their faces as they reassembled arms, legs, and torsos—preparing for the final phase.

Gen rose from his seat and wandered over to help with the last few statues that still needed repairing.

By the time the last stone body had been fitted together, night had fallen. A quiet hush settled over the group as they admired their work. There was something solemn and hopeful in the air as everyone stared at the rows of unmoving faces—loved ones, comrades, friends—soon to be returned to life.

Then, everyone’s gaze slowly shifted to a single unfamiliar statue.

Gen tilted his head. He didn’t recognize the person. And judging by the puzzled looks on others’ faces, neither did they.

“Who the hell is that?” Ryusui finally asked, pointing at the unfamiliar statue.

“Well,” Taiju began, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile, “I did say I was bringing back every single piece I found.”

Gen stepped closer, inspecting the unknown statue. The figure was male, with long hair and a sturdy build. If he had to guess, the stranger was either an alpha or a beta. Gen circled around to examine the neck.

He tapped the shoulder gently. “Still missing an arm though.”

With a small shrug, Gen turned back to the others. “Looks like Taiju-chan brought us a mystery guest.”

“Looks like another victim of the petrification,” Senku said, crouching slightly to inspect the statue’s weathering. “Can’t say exactly when they were turned, but judging from the wear… I’d say this statue’s been around for a few hundred years at least.”

He stood up again and shrugged, as if the centuries didn’t weigh as heavily on him as they should.

“It’s all thanks to Taiju,” Ryusui chimed in, flashing a grin. “He managed to bring back everyone who was aboard the Perseus. We’re finally all together again. And sure, this isn’t quite how we planned to make landfall on the island, but the Kingdom of Science has officially arrived!”

He swept his arm proudly toward the group, standing tall in the glow of torchlight. As captain of the ship, Ryusui had every reason to feel proud—his crew had returned.

“You’re right,” Gen said with a soft smile, tucking his hands into the long sleeves of his purple overcoat. “At long last, we’ve made it.”

Even so, the warmth of the moment dulled at the sound of Suika’s small voice.

“Even though we gathered everyone here… I’m still sad we can’t revive them all yet,” she said, her voice trembling.

Gen gently guided her into a side hug, and Suika immediately wrapped her arms around his waist. He felt her shoulders shake slightly as she leaned into him.

“Don’t worry,” Senku reassured her, placing a hand on her head with a small smile. “The revival fluid is coming. It just takes a little time to make.”

“Yeah, but time’s not exactly on our side,” Ryusui added, his earlier pride giving way to unease. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s only a matter of time before the enemy figures out we’re hiding out in this cave. If they use the petrification device from the outside, we’re royally screwed.”

The tension crept in slowly, like a chill through the rocks. Even with everyone safe and close, danger loomed just outside the cave walls.

“And before the enemy discovers our hideout,” Senku announced with fierce determination, “we’re going to take to the skies—enter an air warfare battle and steal the petrification device. Even if we’re outnumbered, we’ll overpower them with science.”

The alpha turned toward the older beta, his expression sharp with challenge. “Think you can do it, Kaseki? Can you build our trump card—the drone?”

“Don’t underestimate me, my boy!” Kaseki bellowed with a grin, clearly invigorated by the challenge. “I’ve been a craftsman for over five decades!” He whipped something out from behind his back with a flourish.

Gen gasped. “That was quick!”

Ryusui let out an impressed whistle. “Incredible craftsmanship, as always, Kaseki!”

“You’re the best!” Taiju beamed, pumping a fist.

They all watched as the drone lifted into the air with a mechanical whir. Soyuz blinked repeatedly, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Suika squealed in pure delight.

But Gen’s eyes narrowed as he watched its flight path wobble.

“Wait, wait—it’s going to hit the—oh…”

Clunk.

The drone careened off the rocky ceiling and plopped to the ground with a pitiful thud.

Senku didn’t even flinch. “It’s just a prototype,” he said coolly, kneeling to examine the fallen drone. “Our job now is to make it stable.”

Kaseki was tasked with continuing drone experiments under Senku’s guidance. The old beta crafted new parts, testing which combinations would improve the drone’s stability. Gen had long lost track of time, leaving it to his personal human clock—his mate.

“It’s around midnight,” Senku muttered as he finished preparing three more bottles of revival fluid. “Alright, I’ve got three bottles ready, so I think it’s time to wake our other crafting expert. With Yuzuriha, we’ll be able to make clothes and piece together any missing parts on the statues a lot faster.”

“Yuzurihaaaa—Ahhhhh! Don’t look!” Taiju shouted, flinging his arm out to cover her. He pointed accusingly at Senku’s face. But Senku, having already lived this exact moment once before, ducked in time and scrambled to the side.

“Would you calm down, you big oaf?! You trying to kill me this time?” Senku snapped. “It’s the Stone Age, no one cares if everything’s out in the open.”

“She’s my mate, and she’s got no clothes! Show a little respect! I wouldn’t stare if Gen were in the same situation!” Taiju shot back, shielding Yuzuriha’s statue from view. “You’d act the same if it were your mate!”

Senku’s eye twitched—he couldn’t exactly argue with that.

“I wasn’t the one who used all the fabric on their mate’s statue, Taiju. That’s Ryusui’s fault. He wrapped Ukyo like a damn Christmas present… and Goldilocks over there nearly bit my hand off when I tried to take it back. Which is why we need Yuzuriha. With her godly sewing skills, she could whip up ten outfits from the leftover scraps.”

Gen let out a soft sigh, slipping off his purple overcoat. He held it out toward the flustered alpha.

“You can use this to cover Yuzuriha-chan,” he said with a gentle smile.

Taiju lit up. “Aww, thanks, Gen! You’re seriously the best—I want to hug you right now!”

“How about we put that hug on hold and wait for Yuzuriha-chan to come back,” Gen chuckled.

Senku stepped forward and poured the fluid over Yuzuriha’s statue. A moment later, the light enveloped her, and the stone cracked away. She blinked as she looked down, immediately noticing the coat draped around her shoulders.

“Yuzuriha! I missed you so much!” Taiju shouted, already reaching for her.

“Taiju! How long has it been?” she asked, stepping into his arms.

“No clue,” Taiju admitted, holding her tight before she pulled away to greet the others.

“First things first—clothes! I don’t want to hog your overcoat all day, Gen,” she said kindly.

“I don’t mind. Our dear captain used all the fabric on Ukyo-chan’s statue… right over there,” Gen pointed. Sure enough, Ryusui stood nearby, smug as ever.

“Good luck!” Gen added with a wink.

Yuzuriha gave a playful salute and dashed off.

Moments later, she returned fully clothed, Gen’s coat folded neatly over one arm and a bundle of fabric in the other.

Gen couldn’t help but be impressed—as always.

The next to be revived was Chrome, who woke up buzzing with excitement about being petrified. Yuzuriha had already composed outfit after outfit, dressing several statues accordingly. Ryusui shot her a thumbs-up once Ukyo’s statue was fully clothed, to which the overenthusiastic omega returned tenfold.

Suika walked up to Ryusui and held out a hat she made for the white-haired omega. Ryusui smiled softly and picked the pup up, letting her place the hat on his mate’s head. Holding Suika in his arms, Ryusui snapped his head toward Senku and held out a hand, making an impatient grabby motion.

“Give me.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Senku scratched his ear with his pinky.

Ryusui’s eagerness became more demanding. “Give it to me.”

Senku scrunched up his face as he slowly approached the golden-haired alpha, cautious. “I’m coming, calm down—”

“Give it to me now!” Ryusui snatched the bottle from Senku’s hand, leaving the scientist blinking in surprise. Suika cheered from his arms.

Gen gently pulled Senku toward him by the arm. “Ryusui-chan’s just too excited to be reunited with Ukyo-chan. Don’t take it too hard, Senku-chan.”

“I’m not bothered. It’s understandable,” Senku sighed. “But couldn’t he have asked a little more nicely?”

They both turned to watch the overly eager alpha pour the revival fluid onto his mate’s face.

Ukyo’s statue lit up with a brief, brilliant glow as the petrification was undone. He blinked a few times, lowering his aiming arm just as he was swept into a tight embrace. Ryusui wrapped one arm around his mate’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Suika, still in Ryusui’s other arm, threw one of her tiny arms around Ukyo’s neck.

Ukyo melted into the embrace, laughing softly as Ryusui pressed kiss after kiss to his forehead “What a better way to be greeted upon revival… Definitely better than the first time.”

“I’ll greet you with a thousand—no, billions more kisses if you’d like, Ukyo. Anything you desire, I shall give it to you.” Ryusui nuzzled his nose against the omega’s head, causing Ukyo’s hat to tip back. Suika quickly caught it before it could fall off entirely.

Ukyo rested his chin on Ryusui’s chest, smiling up at him. “I know.”

Then he turned to the pup and greeted her warmly. “Suika, it’s all thanks to you. I’m sorry we put you in such a tough spot—it must’ve been scary.”

Suika shook her head. “You both reacted so fast! And I knew Senku would bring everyone back, so I wasn’t that scared!”

“All of your efforts led to this. Because of you, the Kingdom of Science’s success rate has increased—” Ukyo paused as he caught the sound of soft, muffled cries. He sighed fondly, already knowing who it was, and gently pulled away from the embrace. Ryusui finally set Suika down, and the pup beamed up at them, content.

Ukyo turned toward Gen, who stood with his hand clamped over his mouth, trying to suppress his sobs. Senku stood at his mate’s side, rubbing slow, gentle circles on Gen’s back, a puzzled look on his face—he hadn’t expected this reaction.

Gen, however, was truly moved. Seeing two lovers reunited after so much struggle overwhelmed him. Watching his best friend alive, smiling, held tightly by the one who had longed for him—it simply made Gen happy. The tears came on their own, and he tried to muffle them so he wouldn’t ruin the touching moment. Senku’s comforting presence grounded him.

But of course, Ukyo’s inhuman hearing had picked up the sound.

And it didn’t help when the white-haired omega opened his arms wide in welcome—an invitation Gen couldn’t resist.

“Gen, come here—oomph!” Ukyo let out a breathless laugh as the bicolored haired omega launched himself into his arms.

“Ukyooo-chaan! I missed youuu!” Gen squealed, wrapping his arms around Ukyo’s shoulders in a tight hug. He happily rubbed his cheek against Ukyo’s, earning a giggle in return.

“Whoa! Hey—I missed you too!” Ukyo hugged him back with equal enthusiasm. “Sounds like a lot’s happened the past few days.”

“Ugh, you eriously-say have no idea.” Gen pulled back with a dramatic pout. “I’m just so glad you’re back.”

“Judging by the fact that I’ve been revived, I take it my skills are in high demand?” Ukyo crossed his arms playfully.

“Well, yes, but Ryusui-chan needed you most of all. He worked himself to the bone to bring you back. I was promised a lovers’ reunion and I got one—and it looks like Ryusui-chan isn’t done~” Gen teased with a wink, causing the other omega to shyly tip his hat forward, especially when Ryusui’s boisterous laughter echoed behind him.

“You’re damn right I’m not done!” Ryusui declared with a snap of his fingers. He grabbed the back of Ukyo’s shirt and tugged him close again, the other hand settling firmly at his mate’s waist. “I’m just getting started.”

“Alright, save that for after we secure the petrification device and win.” Senku stepped forward and placed a hand on Gen’s waist, gently guiding him away to give the reunited couple some space.

“I don’t want to hear that from you, not after—” Ryusui started, only to be cut off by Gen, who cleared his throat and clapped his hands to regain everyone’s focus.

“Okay! Let’s get back on topic—strategizing!” Gen’s cheeks tinted faintly pink. “Our end goal is getting our hands on that petrification device. Kaseki-chan is already working on the drone with Chrome-chan, and since we’ve got our builder duo back together, development should be a lot faster. What we’re currently lacking is information on the enemy. Our spy team—Kohaku-chan, Ginro-chan, and Amaryllis-chan—are currently infiltrating enemy territory. Our last communication was…” Gen glanced at Senku for confirmation. “Two days ago?”

“If you want the exact date and time, it’s currently September 16th, 5741 AD, at 1:45 AM. So yeah, our last contact was on the 14th,” Senku confirmed as he smoothly took over the explanation.

“So it is true you sent Kohaku and Ginro to infiltrate the harem?” Chrome raised an eyebrow, his tone disbelieving.

“You’d be surprised how they look, Chrome!” Suika piped up helpfully.

“We were worried too, but there hasn’t been an issue so far. And Amaryllis is there to help them out,” Soyuz added.

“So we should be contacting them soon then?” Ukyo asked, deducing the plan. Ryusui, now fully behind him, had circled his arms around Ukyo’s waist and rested his chin atop the omega’s shoulder, listening quietly and clearly content to have his mate back in his arms.

Senku nodded with a grin. “Yes. We’ll rest for a few hours first—everyone’s been working hard. But I want you and Suika to investigate as soon as possible. We still have a couple of Mini Rat Mobiles left. We’ve been using them to deliver supplies, and I’ve also created an earpiece for communication. It only works one way for now, but it’s a start.”

“Although I’m happy you suggested we rest, my dear, with our group growing, I’m afraid we don’t have enough tents for everyone,” Gen interrupted his mate’s soon-to-be ramble, noting the tired looks on everyone’s faces.

“Huh? Oh, that’s easy. We have four tents: Kaseki, Soyuz, and Chrome in one… the big oaf and Yuzuriha in another. Ryusui and Ukyo in the third, and then there’s us and Suika. That’s four,” Senku assigned easily.

Yuzuriha let out a sigh of relief as Gen subtly steered Senku away from full-on planning mode. “Suika can sleep with us if she wants to.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. It’s like a big sleepover!” Taiju agreed quickly, smiling at his mate.

“Rest is important—we’ve got a long day ahead of us since we’ll be depetrifying the rest of the crew,” Ryusui added, stepping back from behind Ukyo. “Suika, you’re welcome to room with us too.”

Suika smiled warmly at all their offers as she stood beside Gen. She wasn’t sure yet where she wanted to sleep, but knowing everyone welcomed her so openly filled her with joy. “Thank you, guys.”

“The choice is yours, Suika, but I need you well-rested. I’ll be putting you to work alongside Ukyo—I’ll need Detective Suika on the case,” Senku said, patting her helmet with a soft smile.

“Senku-chan’s right. It’s important to get plenty of rest, especially since he’s been working us hard the past few days,” Gen agreed, placing a gentle hand on her upper back.

Ukyo watched with a fond smile, but then his head snapped toward the shoreline at the sudden sound of movement. His voice turned sharp. “Hold on. Someone’s coming—they’re swimming in.”

The white-haired omega instinctively reached behind his back for his quiver, only to grasp at air. Ryusui, watching him closely, recognized the defensive motion immediately.

Ukyo clicked his tongue in frustration as he remembered—his weapon had been taken when he was petrified.

At Ukyo’s warning, Senku instinctively stepped in front of Gen, who moved quickly to shield Suika behind him. Everyone turned toward the water as a familiar brown-haired omega emerged, dragging herself up onto the sand.

Amaryllis pushed herself upright, her red eyes filled with raw, unfiltered emotion—no act this time. Something terrible had happened, and it put Senku and Gen instantly on edge.

“Senku, Gen…” she hiccuped, catching her breath as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Kohaku and Ginro were petrified! They found out… they found us out!”

Gen’s brows furrowed in alarm. As Amaryllis stumbled toward them, he immediately reached out and steadied her by the arms. “Breathe. Take your time, Amaryllis-chan.”

“No, I can’t,” she choked, shaking her head violently. “Not after I tell you everything that happened.”

________

Bonus+

Ginro had been feeling off all day. He was warmer than usual, his senses on edge—every little sound made him jump, and sweat clung to his skin in a way that unsettled both Kohaku and Amaryllis. Something was wrong. Deep down, he could feel it. Even if he didn’t understand his own body well, his instincts were screaming at him.

When one of the old betas approached him and said he had been chosen to serve the Master that night, Ginro had nearly collapsed on the spot.

Rightfully so—he freaked the hell out.

He wasn’t made for this. Not this kind of pressure, not this kind of situation. The outfit they gave him was soft, luxurious even, but he couldn’t help thinking it would look better on someone else. He felt like he was playing a part he hadn’t auditioned for, surrounded by others more qualified, more composed, more everything. Out of all the people in the harem… why him?

Kohaku and Amaryllis had done their best to calm him down, reminding him of the emergency weapon Senku had crafted for a situation exactly like this. He held onto that memory like a lifeline as he was led up the winding path toward the highest point of the island—where the Master’s chambers loomed.

He waited inside, frozen in place. Sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Every part of him screamed that he shouldn’t be here. His secondary gender instincts, usually dormant and quiet, sparked violently to life. Survival and biology aligned for once, telling him: run, now.

He tried to stall, to explain to the shadowy silhouette of the Master that he wasn’t the right person. That he was a man. A male beta. Definitely not the kind of “companion” the Master was expecting.

Then came the chill. That terrible prickle at the nape of his neck, as Ibara’s voice slithered out from the dark, smug and disgusting.

He said he’d teach Ginro how to please the Master—by practicing on him.

Revulsion crashed over him. Ginro didn’t hesitate. He reached for the small, inconspicuous weapon hidden on his person—Senku’s “pineapple.” He hadn’t understood all the science behind it, but Gen had dumbed it down: dizzy them, knock them out, and get the hell out.

It worked. Ibara staggered.

Ginro didn’t stop to watch. He ran—but not before his eyes caught something horrifying in the back of the room.

The Master’s statue.

Or what was left of it.

A broken man turned to stone, half his face missing. A grotesque, silent expression frozen in time. Ginro’s hand flew to his mouth, nausea bubbling up. There was no surviving that. Even if someone tried to revive him, there was no coming back from those injuries.

But what chilled him even more…

The Master—he looked just like Soyuz.

He didn’t have time to think. As he sprinted down the path, his heart pounding in his chest, he caught sight of Kohaku, locked in battle with Moz.

Could it be that Soyuz and the Master are related?

That had to be it. Hope fluttered in Ginro’s chest as he uncovered the palace’s biggest secret. He called out to Kohaku, waving his arm in the air in a desperate attempt to capture her attention—

An overwhelming, indescribable pain erupted in his torso.

He watched as Kohaku’s expression twisted in horror just as he fell forward.

A cough escaped him, and the bitter metallic taste of blood coated his tongue.

The cold look on the alpha—Ibara’s face—was emotionless as he watched Ginro plummet to his death.

He heard Kohaku scream his name, but it grew distant as the world around him blurred. Branches, huts, and bridges rushed past him as he fell.

Ginro’s body felt too weak to stop his descent, to brace for impact.

A choked gasp left him as searing pain flared from underneath him upon landing hard on the grass. For a moment, everything went dark.

When his vision returned, he blinked up at the towering tree he’d fallen from, at Kohaku’s frantic expression as she came into view.

How did I survive that? I should be dead… Kinro…

Everything hurt. Pain radiated through his limbs and chest.

Kohaku cradled his head gently in her arms, bloodied and shaking.

Even so, Ginro knew he had to tell her what he’d discovered—even if these were his final moments. If it meant his death had meaning—if it brought his brother back—he would gladly give his life.

“K…ha…ku… Ma…ster’s… stat-ue…” he rasped, voice broken between shallow, wet breaths.

Kohaku gritted her teeth, her voice trembling. “Even now, you’re asking me to ease your suffering? Ginro… I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“The Master… is a statue…” Ginro gasped again, forcing the words out. “Looks like Soyuz… maybe related… Tell ’em…”

“Ginro… thank you for telling me this.” Kohaku pressed her hand against the puncture wound on his torso. Warm blood soaked her fingers and dress.

“I’m not gonna make it… I know,” he murmured. “I’m just a village guard… but I just wanted to look a little cool, y’know?” He gave a weak, breathless chuckle. A memory of Kinro’s stern face surfaced in his mind—and something inside him cracked.

Tears spilled down Ginro’s cheeks. “I don’t wanna die… I don’t wanna die, Kohaku…!”

Kohaku gathered him close, holding him tighter as footsteps rapidly approached. She turned her head and spotted Amaryllis rushing toward them.

“I’ll leave the rest to you,” Kohaku said softly as held Ginro in her arms.

Then she told her everything—what Ginro had discovered, what had happened—entrusting the truth to Amaryllis in hopes that it would reach their leader.

Chapter Text

September 16th, 5741 AD

After Amaryllis’ tearful explanation, everyone gathered around a table as Senku pulled out a map of the island he had sketched during breaks. It was a rough estimate, but it would do. Now that the five wise generals, as Suika called them, were finally together again, they began to review the new intel.

“There’s only one petrification device,” Senku began, eyes scanning the map. “And Ibara doesn’t carry it.”

He tapped a finger against the map thoughtfully.

“He’s extremely cautious. If there were a second device and he had it on him, he would’ve used it the moment things got risky. But he didn’t. That alone confirms there’s only one.”

A pause settled over the table as everyone absorbed the weight of that fact.

“And whoever does hold it is at risk of being petrified themselves,” Senku added. “That’s the catch of the device.”

“There’s something I want to confirm with you, Amaryllis,” Ukyo called out to the brown-haired omega. “The petrification device that Kirisame threw—was it aimed high above the Master’s chambers? And how high exactly?”

Gen’s eyes widened slightly—he immediately understood what Ukyo was getting at and turned to Amaryllis for confirmation.

“Yes, that’s right. It was thrown extremely high,” Amaryllis answered without hesitation.

“I see… So when Kirisame-chan used the petrification device, she threw it in a way that would deliberately miss the Master!” Gen pieced it together aloud.

Everyone in the room went still as realization dawned across their faces.

“Another crucial piece of intel…” Senku grinned. The alpha’s sharp eyes gleamed with excitement at this particular discovery. He shot a brief glance at his mate, pride and gratitude flickering in his expression. "Kirisame doesn’t know that the Master she serves is a statue."

But before they could celebrate the breakthrough, a cold, indescribable chill swept through the cave.

A sharp, foreign alpha scent sliced through the air like a blade.

Senku’s head snapped toward the entrance near the water, instincts on high alert.

Dripping with seawater, weapon slung casually over his shoulder, stood Moz.

The notorious warrior alpha—renowned as the strongest on the island.

“Hmmm…” He looked down at Amaryllis with a lazy, amused smile as she turned to face him, wide-eyed in shock. “I’m surprised you figured that out. Congratulations—you’re correct.”

“M-Moz!”

Ukyo gritted his teeth in frustration—he didn’t have his weapon. The white-haired omega hadn’t even heard Moz swim through the water. He clenched his fists and instinctively shifted into a combat stance. Ryusui stepped beside him, eyes narrowing as he leveled the intruder with a glare.

Taiju didn’t hesitate. He threw himself between the defensive omega women and the approaching alpha.

Moz’s head snapped toward him as Taiju charged. Without missing a beat, Moz adjusted his grip and swung the blunt end of his spear, striking Taiju square on the head. The force sent Taiju flying into the cave wall.

“Taiju!” Yuzuriha cried out in horror.

Gen acted instantly, taking advantage of Moz’s brief distraction. He reached for the back of Amaryllis’s dress and tugged her toward the others. She stumbled, then looked over her shoulder, eyes wide with guilt as tears welled up.

“I-It’s my fault… He followed me,” Amaryllis choked out, wiping at her eyes with a trembling hand. “I didn’t even notice…”

Taiju, groaning, pushed himself up with grit and determination. Blood dripped down his forehead, but he stood tall again, placing himself between Moz and the group. He spread his arms wide, shielding them.

Senku immediately threw an arm out in front of Gen, protective instincts flaring as he glared at Moz. Gen murmured softly to Amaryllis, voice gentle despite the tension.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered, guiding her further back toward Suika and Yuzuriha.

Yuzuriha pulled Amaryllis into a protective embrace, while Suika rubbed her back comfortingly. Chrome and Kaseki moved to stand in front of them, wearing hardened, calculating expressions.

Soyuz silently unslung his shield from his back and raised it, prepared to defend them all.

Moz’s gaze swept over the group like a predator sizing up its prey. He began to pace slowly, tapping his spear against his shoulder with calculated ease, eyes flicking from one unfamiliar face to the next.

“Your endurance is praise-worthy,” he said with a smirk, voice low and mocking. “But all it will do is buy you time.”

His eyes finally settled on Taiju again.

“Despite being an alpha… it looks like you’ve never hurt a soul.”

The group stood frozen, nerves pulled taut in the suffocating silence that settled under Moz’s looming presence.

Senku’s mind raced. Think. Think fast. He mentally thanked Taiju for the precious few seconds he’d bought them.

Moz casually scanned the group, eyes gleaming with interest as he began counting aloud. “Two betas, four alphas, a pup… and two—no, four omegas.”

His gaze sharpened as it landed on Gen and Ukyo.

“Well now,” he murmured, intrigued. “Two male omegas. How fascinating. Never thought I’d see that in one place.”

Ukyo’s lips curled in disgust, his sea green eyes narrowing with barely contained irritation. Ryusui, ever attuned to his mate, inched closer. While he knew Ukyo could hold his own, the golden-haired alpha wasn’t taking chances. His hand subtly brushed against Ukyo’s, protective energy radiating off him in waves.

Moz caught the movement and chuckled.

“Whoa. Looks like the white-haired cutie is already spoken for,” he said, amused. But Ryusui’s unblinking stare—sharp and full of promise—sent a clear message: Back off.

Then Moz’s eyes shifted to Gen.

Gen’s heart thudded in his chest, but his face remained calm, unreadable. He didn’t flinch under the attention, even as Moz’s gaze drifted down his frame and back up again. The warrior alpha tapped his chin, his interest deepening.

“Interesting,” Moz murmured. “Very interesting…”

The air was thick with tension until Chrome’s whisper broke the stillness.

“If Moz followed you here, Amaryllis…” he said low enough for only those closest to hear, eyes flicking toward the intruder still surveying Gen. “Then Moz must’ve known you and the others infiltrated the harem.”

Gen stiffened.

Gen glanced over his shoulder at Chrome. The implications were clear now—if Kohaku had already revealed herself and the others as the intruders, then they should have been all petrified.

But Amaryllis wasn’t.

That could only mean one thing: Moz had let her go. He’d wanted her to lead him here. If the warrior alpha had known their true identities all along and simply watched from the sidelines…

Then Moz wasn’t just indifferent to Ibara’s fate—he might actually be planning to kill him himself.

Senku’s train of thought had fractured the moment Moz began deducing their secondary genders. His mind had flashed back to what Amaryllis told him a few days prior, just before the team split up.

Her warning.

Now, with Moz’s focus locked onto the two male omegas, and the way the man’s gaze lingered on Gen—his mate—every alpha instinct in Senku’s body flared in alarm.

The moment Moz’s eyes landed on Gen, Senku hadn’t looked away.

Not once.

Crimson eyes tracked Moz’s every subtle movement—his shifting posture, the way his fingers drummed on his spear, the low hum in his throat. Senku hated it. He hated the look in Moz’s eyes, the kind that didn’t just scream danger—

It roared it.

He hated the smirk curling at the corners of the man’s lips. The calculating hunger behind it.

And worst of all—he hated the possibility that Moz saw something in Gen even he didn’t yet realize.

Just for a moment, Moz’s gaze flicked to Senku. His expression shifted—flat, unamused, a flicker of disinterest.

Then, just as quickly, his eyes returned to Gen, that smile curling higher.

That absolutely ticked him the fuck off.

Moz had looked at him like he wasn’t even a threat—like he wasn’t worth considering, not even for a second.

That hit Senku right in the pride.

His expression twisted into a full scowl.

Sure, he wasn’t as physically built as the other alphas, and yeah, his looks were average at best—but none of that mattered. His brain was his weapon. His intelligence outclassed everyone in the room.

He was suddenly reminded of something Kohaku had asked him once:

“What would you do if someone tried to challenge you for Gen?”

It wasn’t even a challenge.

Gen was already his. They were bonded. He’d claimed him, and they’d had sex two days ago. Gen was heavily scented—covered in Senku’s scent from head to toe. Anyone with a nose could tell.

Moz definitely knew.

He just didn’t give a damn.

And that—that was fine. Senku could think of more than a few ways to deal with someone like Moz.

Whatever it takes.

To protect Gen.

To satisfy the part of him that refused to stand by while his mate was being eyed like prey.

There was a storm in his chest now. A gnawing instinct that wouldn’t stop chanting one word, over and over again in his mind like a war drum:

Protect. Protect. Protect.

Something deep inside him knew—he wouldn’t be satisfied until the danger was gone.

“Senku-chan…” Gen whispered, tugging gently at his mate’s short sleeve. He raised a hand—covered in his purple sleeve—toward his mouth, shielding his words from enemy view. “We only have one shot at turning this around…”

Senku didn’t respond right away. His eyes burned with quiet fury, crimson and calculating. Gen could tell from the tension in his jaw, the subtle twitch of his fingers—Senku was seriously considering taking Moz out right here, right now.

Gen sighed softly. That look was dangerous.

He nudged again, pulling Senku from his thoughts as the alpha’s gaze snapped toward him.

“Someone needs to…” Gen started—but stopped just as quickly, feeling the weight of everyone’s attention shift to him. That someone… was him.

Of course it was.

His shoulders slumped slightly in reluctant acceptance. He didn’t want to deal with Moz—especially not after being eyed like a prize piece of meat but no one else could do what needed to be done.

Every instinct in him screamed don’t go near him. But he shoved that feeling down.

Senku’s eyes widened slightly—like something just clicked. He looked ready to protest, to tell Gen no, to pull him back and do something reckless. But reason won.

He knew Gen was their best chance.

With a clenched jaw and fists balled tight at his sides, Senku gave a silent nod.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, the chaos of the cave faded into nothing. No Moz, no danger—just them. A quiet look of shared understanding passed between them.

Gen offered a small, reassuring smile.

Then he turned forward.

And walked toward the man who made every hair on his body stand on end.

Putting on his best stage smile—the same one he’d used countless times before an audience—Gen raised his voice just enough to pull attention squarely onto himself.

With a graceful sweep of his arms, he called out brightly, “Hey there! Moz-chan, right? Since your interest is clearly piqued, won’t you spare a little of your precious time for me?”

He waved a hand in the air with dramatic flair, gesturing like a practiced performer.

“How about you join us, Moz-chan? Together with the Kingdom of Science—doesn’t that sound exciting?”

Moz tilted his head, eyes tracking Gen’s every move like a hawk sizing up unfamiliar prey.

“Hmmm…”

Gen reached into the sleeve of his purple overcoat and, in one swift movement, flung a cascade of nightshade flowers and petals into the air.

The sudden burst of color caught Moz off guard. His eyes blinked at the falling petals, briefly distracted.

Then came the faint but unmistakable hum of motors—the sound of their drone overhead.

Moz’s gaze snapped upward, eyebrows raising slightly at the foreign flying object.

Gen followed his line of sight with a smile still plastered on his face.

“How do you like our little sorcery bird?” he said sweetly. “It’s quite stealthy. With this, we can swoop in and pluck the petrification device right from Kirisame-chan’s hand.”

His tone remained light, cheerful, like this was all part of a harmless magic show. But inside, Gen was locked in a silent war with himself.

His instincts were screaming. Begging him to get away. Warning him that getting closer to Moz was dangerous—unnatural even.

Amaryllis had warned him. Moz liked female betas and omegas. In theory, that made Gen—a male omega, bonded and off the market entirely—completely out of the question.

But the way Moz had been staring at him earlier?

It wasn’t just curiosity. It was fascination. The kind you didn’t expect from someone who supposedly had no interest in his type.

According to Amaryllis, male omegas were rare now. Practically unheard of.

That probably made Gen a novelty.

But there was no backing out. Not now.

So he kept smiling. Kept moving. Ignoring every nerve in his body that told him to stop.

And casually—so casually—he approached Moz like they were old friends.

“If we were to work together—” Gen said with the practiced cheer of a salesman pitching a miracle cure, “—with the power of sorcery, the harem… the palace… no, the entire island could be yours to command!”

He stepped in closer, just enough to invade Moz’s space, his voice sweet and persuasive. “Don’t you think so?”

Moz looked down, finally registering just how close the omega had gotten.

At this distance, there was no mistaking it.

The scent hit him immediately—deep, rich, unmistakable. Gen was bonded, drenched in the alpha’s scent. The one with the strange spiky hair and crimson eyes. But beneath that, curling like a ribbon through the air, was something else.

Something sweeter.

Moz’s eyes darkened, narrowing slightly.

Pregnant.

If he hadn’t been intrigued before, he definitely was now.

He’d never expected to encounter a male omega in his lifetime. Stories spoke of them—rare, delicate, usually taken out of circulation due to their rarity but here stood two. Both claimed, but only one with visible protector breathing down his neck.

The white-haired omega would be a hassle. His alpha, the golden-haired one, was watching him like a hawk. That kind of bond wasn’t easy to break through.

But this omega? The bi-colored haired one?

His alpha didn’t look like much. Smart, sure. But not a fighter. Not a threat.

And Gen—up close—was more than just rare. He was beautiful in a way Moz hadn’t seen before. Unique. Soft, but strong. Carrying life. Fertile. Tempting.

He’d never been with a pregnant beta or omega before.

He never even considered it.

Until now.

And he was seriously considering it.

“I mean, you must be reeaally strong, Moz-chan,” Gen cooed sweetly, tapping a finger to his chin as if genuinely pondering the idea. “With those big, bulging muscles…”

He peeked up at Moz with a closed-eye smile, voice lilting like a stage performer praising a VIP guest.

“Even if Ibara-chan and every warrior combined their strength, you’d still be, like, fifty percent stronger and obliterate them all, right Moz-chan?”

Moz hummed in amusement, clearly entertained. “The power gap’s a little wider than you think, little omega.”

He twirled his spear with practiced ease, and Gen’s smile faltered—just slightly.

“Oh wow~ If you’re that powerful…” Gen began, but his words trailed off as the sudden spin of the weapon made him flinch. He tried to cover it up with a breathy laugh, but his shoulders had tensed on instinct.

Moz slammed the sharp end of his spear into the ground with a heavy thud.

Gen went still, watching him warily.

Then Moz crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in—too close. The omega’s voice died in his throat.

Gen instinctively brought his hands up in front of his midsection, a subtle but unmistakable protective gesture. He tried not to shrink back, but his instincts betrayed him as Moz’s sharp brown eyes scanned his face.

He felt the heat of that gaze linger—first on his features, then on his throat, where the edge of Senku’s mark pulsed beneath the collar of his robe.

Moz’s eyes dipped lower. Lower.

They flicked briefly to Gen’s hands—hovering protectively over his abdomen—and stayed there.

The omega’s breath hitched.

He shifted back slightly, retreating half a step without even meaning to.

Moz didn’t move. He just watched.

And smiled.

Moz shamelessly sniffed him, not even trying to hide it. He let out a low whistle, clearly intrigued.

“As I said before, this is my first time encountering male omegas,” he said, voice low and amused. “I’m sure your fellow omega friend already told you how rare they are on this island. It’s obvious you’re not from around here.”

His eyes flicked past Gen—narrowing sharply at the hostile glare from the bi-colored haired omega’s mate.

“Uh, you’re right! We aren’t from here,” Gen jumped in, forcing a cheerful tone to cut the tension thickening the air. He hadn’t expected to be giving a crash course in male omega biology, but here he was. “Back where we come from, male omegas are actually more common than you’d think. Sure, we have a few differences compared to female omegas, but for the most part, we’re quite similar.”

“Clearly,” Moz said with a short, entertained laugh, his eyes drifting once again to Gen’s midsection.

“Yes, so—” Gen tried to continue, but he faltered as a chill ran down his spine.

Something was off.

Unsettling.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to create space, to leave.

Moz leaned in again, lowering his voice.

“I know you’re already bonded… to that.” His gaze swept deliberately toward Senku. A grin tugged at the edge of his lips. “That small, angry-looking alpha. If looks could kill, I’d be dead twice over.”

Gen didn’t dare turn around. He wanted to—he wanted to check on Senku, to reassure himself but he knew better. Moz was the kind of man you didn’t take your eyes off of.

“I’ve never been with a male omega before,” Moz continued, tone low, almost casual. “Much less someone of your… stature.”

There was a pause. The kind that dragged, heavy and uncomfortable.

“I’m honestly curious about the differences—especially since it’d be my first time with a—”

He didn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

The implication hung in the air like poison.

“Hey.” Senku’s voice cracked through the tension, sharp and venom-laced.

Moz immediately stepped back, lifting both hands in mock surrender, wearing a wide grin.

“I’m joking! Just trying to lighten the mood,” he said breezily. “Feels a little stiff in here, don’t you think? Geez, you’re all so tense. You’re looking at me like I’m some sort of enemy.”

He paused, chuckling to himself. “Wait! I kind of am.”

Gen stared at him in silence, unsure what unsettled him more—Moz’s thinly veiled threats, or how quickly the man could shift gears, like danger was just a game to him.

“I could easily kill you all here. Wouldn’t be much of a challenge,” Moz said, his tone playfully cruel. “But I could do the same to Ibara… What shall I do?”

He hummed thoughtfully, as though deciding the fate of lives was no more serious than picking fruit. “Even if I wiped you all out, I should at least hear what you have to say. You’re clearly in the know about the bigger picture… and that old man’s about to croak anyway. The betas and omegas would thank me if I made them part of my harem.”

His gaze landed squarely on Gen with a smirk, sharp and assessing. “You could join too. I don’t mind that you’re already bonded, and—” Moz paused, eyes glinting. “Well… I’ll accept every part of you.”

Then he reached out, slow and deliberate, his hand hovering close to Gen’s abdomen.

Gen’s smile had already vanished. He hadn’t been listening the moment Moz said harem. Everything afterward blurred into static. Bonded or not, it didn’t matter to this man. As if his choice, his love, his mate, meant nothing. He spoke as though Gen was a prize to be traded, as though he wasn’t already claimed, protected, loved. It was insulting. Degrading. And infuriating.

The omega’s heart thudded hard in his chest.

And then—his body reacted.

His hands curling protectively over his middle without him thinking. A sharp chill rolled down his spine. The air around Moz felt wrong—the kind of wrong that triggered something deeper than conscious fear. Something instinctual.

This wasn’t just uncomfortable. He didn’t feel safe.

He felt threatened.

And his body knew it before his brain did.

The last time he felt like this—this strange, coiled stillness—it was when he and Soyuz had discovered their friends on the Perseus… petrified. A moment of horror so sharp it cut straight through emotion. And now that feeling was back—only stronger. More intimate. Like his instincts were screaming at him to protect something fragile.

That need to protect. To defend.

But… what?

Moz’s hand crept closer.

And Gen’s calm cracked.

His lips pressed into a thin line. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. His entire frame tensed with a quiet, burning anger.

He didn’t know why he reacted this way.

He only knew one thing.

He didn’t want Moz’s hand anywhere near his body.

Just before Moz’s hand could make contact, Gen’s hand shot out, catching the alpha’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. The suddenness of it froze Moz in place.

The strength behind the omega’s hold was unexpected.

Moz blinked.

Gen’s pleasant expression was gone, completely erased. His lips were flat, and his eyes—once teasing, glittering with false sweetness—were sharp, cold, and unwavering. A deadly quiet took over his face, and for the first time since they met, Moz saw something real.

They stared at each other, unmoving.

A heavy silence fell between them.

The alpha’s fingers twitched reflexively, but Gen didn’t flinch or yield. Instead, his grip tightened. Just slightly—but it was enough to send a chill crawling down Moz’s spine.

What the hell…?

He knew omegas could be unpredictable. Could be clever. Could lie, scheme, and manipulate if pushed into a corner.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

There was a dangerous aura rolling off this one. It wasn’t desperation. It wasn’t bluff. It was something raw. Primal.

The way he held Moz’s wrist wasn’t defensive. It was possessive. Territorial.

And then a memory surfaced, buried deep from his first few months as an alpha—

“Don’t ever threaten a pregnant omega’s pups in front of them,” one of the elder alphas had warned him, voice low and grave. “You might not walk away.”

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He thought it was exaggerated. Urban myth, even.

But now?

Now he understood.

Omegas were said to go mad with protective instinct. Some alphas boasted that they could handle it. Most weren’t that stupid. Moz never bothered getting close enough to find out. Pregnant omegas were too fragile to entertain, too temperamental to risk.

And yet here he was.

Fighting the urge to yank his wrist back—not because of pain, but because of how intense the omega’s energy had become. There was rage under the surface, but not loud or erratic. It was silent. Focused.

Viscous. Deadly.

Gen didn’t know what was wrong with him. His heartbeat was too loud. His grip wouldn’t ease. His body was humming with heat—not lust, not fear, but something deeper. Something that made the tips of his fingers tingle and his breathing slow to match the rising tension.

And it wasn’t going to let this man touch him.

Moz swallowed, watching those stormy gray-blue eyes flicker—not with panic, but with something ancient. Something dangerous.

And fuck if it didn’t excite him.

The thrill, the power, the fine line between being the hunter and becoming prey—it crackled in the air between them. Something shifted, heavier than before.

A silent battle.

Predator and protector.

The air around them changed, turning electric.

Moz’s breath hitched, a slow smirk curling at the edge of his lips. Then he laughed—low, breathy, and almost reverent.

He noticed the fingers curled tightly around the armor on his wrist, the skin turning pale from the pressure. The omega’s grip was no joke. Moz moved to pull his arm back, careful and slow, like withdrawing from a loaded trap. But Gen didn’t release him.

Not yet.

Moz gave a subtle shake of his wrist, signaling for the omega to let go. After a beat, Gen finally did.

He tracked Moz’s every movement with sharp precision, that dangerous silence still hanging thick between them.

The air was taut, humming with barely contained tension.

Moz flexed his fingers, rubbing at the spot where Gen’s hand had gripped him. No bruise, but the imprint lingered more in his mind than on his skin.

“Well now,” he murmured, voice rough with amusement. “You’re full of surprises.”

Gen didn’t respond. His body remained rigid, eyes locked on Moz like he was still waiting for an excuse—ready to rip out a throat if it came to that.

Moz tilted his head, but the glance he gave now wasn’t the same shallow, lecherous one from earlier. It was curious. Eager. Laced with something dark and unsettling.

“Guess that answers a few questions,” he said almost to himself. “I’ve seen alphas bare their teeth before… but that?” He grinned wider, eyes gleaming with an unhinged spark. “That was all omega. A proper one.”

He’d never seen an omega fight back.

Not like Gen.

Still, the omega said nothing. A part of him didn’t trust himself to speak. Something pulsed under his skin, in his blood, in his chest—throbbing with instinct. Primal. Fierce.

He was just starting to discover sides of himself he never knew existed.

Gen flexed the hand that had held Moz’s wrist, then lowered it to his side.

Moz took a few steps back, as if deciding not to test his luck again. But that smirk? It hadn’t left his face.

“You’re quite feisty underneath it all, aren’t ya?” Moz murmured lowly. “I like feisty.”

“It’s strange…” Gen whispered, just loud enough for Moz to hear. The alpha stilled, leaning in as his smirk faltered.

Gen tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something feral, a sweet smile curling on his lips. “I’ve never felt the urge to bite out someone’s throat before… but right now, I really want to.”

Moz’s eyes widened slightly. He caught the glint in Gen’s eyes—not fear, not desperation, but something cold-blooded and steady.

Gen’s voice was quiet, calm, even playful—but deadly. “Do you think it’s possible to rip a human’s throat out with your teeth?” He tapped the side of his own neck lightly. “I mean, the tissue around here’s so soft… and you’re not even wearing armor to protect one of your most vulnerable spots.”

Moz let out a sharp laugh, the kind people make when their nerves snap and thrill floods in to replace fear. Goosebumps pricked along his arms. His hand shot to his spear, pulling it free from the ground. His heart pounded—no, thundered in his chest. It wasn’t fear. It was excitement. Euphoric and wild.

“I like you!” Moz barked, baring his teeth. His voice echoed through the cave, startling the others who’d heard nothing of the whispered exchange. “I like you a lot.”

Gen lowered his hand and tucked it into the sleeves of his purple overcoat, folding them neatly in front of him. His smile didn’t waver.

“Alright, I’ll join forces with you.” Moz finally turned to the group behind Gen. “Surely you’ve come up with a plan to subdue Kirisame. She’s the reason I haven’t killed Ibara yet. That woman holds the petrification weapon. Without it, the old man would’ve been dead long ago.”

As Moz spoke, his eyes followed the movement of the white-haired omega silently approaching Gen’s side. He didn’t miss how Ukyo’s gaze flicked toward Moz, or how he whispered something to his mate before making the quiet decision to stand beside him.

Yuzuriha still held Amaryllis close as the girl hid her face behind her hands. Suika clung tightly to her skirt, peeking out with wide eyes.

Soyuz and Taiju had stepped protectively in front of the women and child. Taiju’s eyes kept flicking nervously between Gen and Senku.

Chrome and Ryusui stayed close to Senku. Ryusui had one arm around the scientist’s shoulders, clearly restraining him, while Chrome stretched out an arm like a barrier, keeping Senku from lunging forward.

Kaseki stood near, murmuring quiet words, likely trying to calm the young alpha down.

It was an interesting sight.

I’m going to kill him.

That thought repeated like a chant in Senku’s mind.

I’m going to kill him as soon as Ryusui and Chrome get their fucking hands off of me.

Meanwhile, Gen, Ukyo, and Ryusui began quietly piecing together the full picture—why Moz hadn’t simply taken Ibara out himself. It was clear now: Kirisame. If Moz made a move, she’d use the petrification weapon. In a fair fight, Moz would win hands down, but that stone weapon was the one thing keeping Ibara alive.

Moz confirmed it plainly—Ibara had been the one who petrified the Master years ago.

“I know how much you want to tear the guy’s throat out,” Ryusui whispered calmly, his tone more serious than usual. “I don’t blame you. You know exactly what kind of situation we’re in, and you’re holding yourself back well.”

Holding himself back well enough? Yeah, right.

His restraint was in tatters. He was hanging on by a thread. People always thought of Senku as cool-headed, composed, the calm in the storm.

But even he had his limits.

He was pissed. And it clearly showed on his face as he shrugged Ryusui’s arm off his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah…” Senku muttered, voice tight.

He stepped forward, calm but deliberate, until he stood before Moz. His arms folded, eyes sharp as a blade.

“The petrification device is in your way,” Senku said flatly. “And we happen to want it.”

Moz stared down at him in silence.

Senku didn’t break his gaze.

The rest of the negotiations passed in a blur. Gen chimed in occasionally, offering insight or redirecting the tension with practiced ease. Ukyo stayed close at his side, a silent sentinel. As long as Gen remained behind him and away from Moz, that was all Senku cared about.

In the end, it was Gen who tricked Moz into believing the whole operation was under the warrior alpha’s command—a calculated mislead to keep attention away from Senku.

When the final agreement was reached, Senku and Moz shook hands.

Senku squeezed harder than he meant to—though maybe it wasn’t unintentional. His anger still simmered, justified and seething. Moz raised an eyebrow at the pressure, but then gave a slow, amused smirk.

“That’s a nice grip you’ve got there, Senku,” Moz muttered. “Still mad about earlier? I already apologized…”

His tone made it clear he didn’t mean a damn word of it.

Senku’s grip tightened, then suddenly yanked Moz forward with unexpected force. Their faces inches apart, Senku spoke low and cold:

“Try that shit again, and you’ll learn firsthand how fast the human body can melt—from the power of ‘sorcery.’”

He released Moz’s hand and turned away without missing a beat.

“Soyuz,” he called sharply. “Take our guest back. Ibara and the others must be wondering where he wandered off to.”

Moz frowned and wiped his hand on the hem of his skirt with mock offense.

“Now, now… we’re friends, aren’t we? No need to stay so hostile, Senku.”

Senku let out a dry scoff. “‘Friends,’ huh? That your idea of a sick joke or just your twisted definition?”

Senku crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His expression dropped, crimson eyes narrowing as his jaw clenched. “Is my threat not enough for you?” he growled. “Should I strap rats to your chest and watch them eat through your flesh, searching for a way out?”

Moz chuckled—low and shaky—but his smirk never wavered. “So you do know how to bare your fangs, little alpha,” he said, almost in admiration. “Now I see why you and Gen are mates. You’re both disturbingly vivid when describing the violence you’d inflict. Very… charming.”

He gave a dramatic bow of surrender. “I’ll back off. For now. But don’t mistake that for me giving up.”

At the shore, Soyuz waited beside the boat, holding a freshly hunted boar. He eyed Moz warily.

Moz approached but paused, voice dropping just loud enough for Senku to hear. “I must say… any children from the two of you would be something fierce. Will the pup inherit your brains or the mommy’s?” He grinned wider, eyes gleaming. “Maybe both. Now that would be truly… dangerous.”

Senku’s breath hitched.

What the hell—

His fists clenched. He had no idea what Moz was insinuating, or why the bastard was bringing up children all of a sudden.

Then it hit—the faint scent of burning coal rising around him like smoke.

Moz held his breath as the air warped with the heat of Senku’s rage. “Looks like my ride’s here. Until next time, Senku.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned his back and climbed into the boat without another glance.

Senku stood frozen, jaw locked, eyes burning holes into the cave’s entrance long after Moz disappeared from view. His instincts clawed to the surface—feral, unrelenting, loud. It took everything in him not to chase after the bastard.

Something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

The need to protect, to defend, to keep his mate safe—it was overwhelming. It churned in Senku’s chest like a storm, so intense that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was furious. And confused. Why was he reacting like this? Why were his instincts screaming?

He didn’t know how long he’d stood there at the shore, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles ached—until a gentle touch pulled him back.

Familiar hands took his into their own.

The scent that drifted into his space hit him instantly—warm, soft, grounding. Gen.

The familiar pheromones wrapped around him like a balm, and his anger dissolved before he could stop it. His mate was here. Safe.

Senku let out a shaky breath as Gen came into view, brows furrowed in concern.

Relief flooded him all at once, like a dam breaking. His body relaxed as Gen tugged gently on his arm, drawing him forward. Senku didn’t resist—he let himself fall into the embrace.

He buried his nose into the crook of Gen’s neck, right where their mating mark rested. His arms circled Gen’s waist with a rare, almost reverent tenderness.

Gen didn’t hesitate to hold him back just as fiercely, arms wrapped around Senku’s shoulders, anchoring them both in that moment.

“I’m glad you’re not so angry anymore…” Gen murmured. “You were hurting yourself.”

Senku exhaled slowly, sliding a hand up Gen’s back. “Well, considering he ruined our moment of peace—and had the audacity to pull that shit right in front of me—you can’t blame me.”

“I don’t blame you,” Gen grumbled, eyes narrowing. “He’s so rude and disrespectful! I got angry too… How dare he! He’s the biggest, most entitled, ignorant asshole on this entire earth if he thinks I’d ever leave you. Over my dead body! Eriously-say!”

Senku let out a chuckle against Gen’s neck, the sound low and real. “Damn right. It’s impossible to separate us...”

“Oh really? Says who?” Gen pulled back just slightly, enough to look him in the eye.

“Me.” Senku smiled softly, eyes filled with a rare tenderness. “And the universe.”

Gen’s eyes brightened before he threw himself back into Senku’s space, littering his face with kisses.
“Awww, you really know how to make a man swoon, my dear~”

“Alright, alright. I get it!” Senku tried to pull back, mildly exasperated.

Gen pouted as they separated and whined, “Senku-chan, I’m just getting started~”

“I know, but we’ve got work to do—” Senku sighed. Now that Moz had joined the team—temporarily, of course—they’d need to accelerate the plan. Senku knew Moz could double-cross them at any moment. There was no time to rest.

“It’s important we all do rest. I’m tired and sleepy—my emotional exhaustion already peaked from that interaction. It was so draining!” Gen hooked an arm around his mate’s and began tugging him toward the campsite. “You especially need to rest, Senku-chan. Otherwise, you’ll pull an all-nighter again without even trying.”

“Gen’s not wrong, Senku. We’re all pretty exhausted,” Ukyo added, gesturing to the group. “We can take shifts and rotate every couple of hours just in case.”

Ryusui and Ukyo exchanged a look of agreement before Ryusui nodded. “Ukyo and I can take the first watch while the rest of you sleep. That way Amaryllis gets a proper place to lie down too.”

“No way! I can stay up. You guys rest,” Taiju interjected quickly.

Chrome sighed and shook his head. “No. Kaseki and I will keep watch. We’re still working on a few things anyway. You guys are our powerhouses—Taiju’s strength, Ukyo’s and Ryusui’s skills… And Senku, you’re our leader. You’re the one coordinating this whole operation. We can’t have you nodding off in the middle of building something with science. And Gen? His manipulative tactics just saved our asses—we’ll probably need them again soon.”

“Chrome-chan, you and Kaseki-chan need rest too,” Gen said warmly. “You’re both essential—our crafting and science experts need to stay in top shape.”

“You’re all right…” Senku said, not really in the mood to argue. “How about this—Chrome, you and Kaseki stay up for a bit and have Soyuz join you on watch. We’ll rotate every four hours.”

“Me next! You guys can wake me up,” Taiju offered cheerfully. “I like getting up early in the morning—it’s refreshing! Plus, if there’s trouble, I can just shout and wake everyone up.”

“Great, the big oaf called dibs on second watch,” Senku muttered with a small smirk and a nod.

“Ukyo and I will be the last ones, then,” Ryusui said, snapping his fingers with flair.

“Now that we’ve got everything settled, let’s rest,” Ukyo murmured, trying to stifle a yawn.

Gen yawned next—Ukyo’s yawn proved to be contagious. “Come on, Senku-chan,” the omega said, tugging his mate toward their tent.

But he paused and turned back, glancing at the little pup. “Suika-chan, are you going to join us?”

“Not tonight. I’ll sleep with Amaryllis and keep her company,” Suika replied with a sleepy smile.

“Thank you, Suika…” Amaryllis patted the pup’s helmet gently before turning her gaze toward the couple. Her eyes lingered on Gen, her expression heavy with concern.

“I was terrified the entire time for you,” she said softly. “Moz is… intimidating. And who knows what’s going on in his mind…”

Amaryllis opened her mouth to say more but hesitated. “I know it’s not the time for this conversation since everyone’s tired… but please, be careful.”

She gave them a small smile before retreating into the tent with Suika.

Gen blinked, then sighed thoughtfully. Senku quietly parted the tent’s entrance and gently ushered his mate inside.

The feelings from earlier resurfaced—fresh, sharp. The alpha was reminded once again why his instincts had flared so violently.

They kicked off their boots and settled onto the bedrolls. As soon as they laid down, Senku instinctively wrapped his arms around Gen, pulling the omega flush against him. His scent enveloped them both like a protective blanket.

The urge to scent Gen thoroughly, to cover every inch of him, pulsed strong in his chest. Even though it was still early, with the sun due to rise in a few short hours, Senku didn’t look forward to the rest of the day—especially knowing they’d have to work with Moz. They had given him an earpiece to coordinate and relay the plan, but that didn’t make it any easier.

At Gen’s quiet reassurance, Senku finally relaxed. His gaze softened as he looked at his mate, arms tightening around him just a little more.

“You deserve an extra long break for your hard work, Mentalist.”

“Ah, I’m glad you’re finally recognizing how hard I work myself to the bone. Talking to people is so exhausting, you know~” Gen chuckled, the sound warm and light.

“I know—that’s why I let you deal with them,” Senku replied with a hint of amusement.

Gen opened his mouth to protest, only to let out a defeated pout. Senku laughed softly. “Let’s go to sleep now, Gen.”

The omega grumbled but ultimately listened, snuggling closer before drifting off. Senku stayed awake a bit longer, watching the slow rise and fall of Gen’s chest. That steady rhythm reassured him—proof that his mate was safe, alive, here.

His eyes wandered across Gen’s face, tracing each delicate feature: the long lashes resting against pale skin, the soft pink of his lips, peaceful in sleep. Senku loved it all.

Still, the unease lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. Moz’s ominous words echoed in his mind—about Gen, about children. Why bring that up? Was it just to provoke him, or was there a deeper meaning behind it?

Senku didn’t know what Moz had done to the betas and omegas in the harem. And honestly, he didn’t want to.

But one thing he knew with complete certainty: In the far future, when society was rebuilt, and if he and Gen chose to have children—Moz would never get close. Not to Gen. Not to their children. Not anywhere near his family.

Not ever.

__________

September 17th, 5741 AD

Yesterday, after everyone had finally gotten some decent rest, they resumed their work.

Yuzuriha spent the morning designing a disguise for Moz, crafting clothes that would help him blend in while attacking his fellow “warriors” under Senku and Gen’s instructions.

Since Moz was wearing an earpiece, communication was limited to brief relayed orders—something that worked perfectly in Senku’s favor, as he had no desire to talk to the alpha directly.

Then came the next challenge: food.

With more people being revived, there were more mouths to feed, and while the newcomers had no issue eating fish, Gen had officially reached his breaking point.

He flat-out refused to eat another bite of it.

Fed up, the bi colored haired omega insisted they de-petrify their dear culinary friend, Francois.

Senku, reluctant, explained that while he understood, the revival fluid supply was limited. He needed time to make more, and they might have to prioritize reviving people who were crucial to their current plans.

As logical as Senku’s words were, it still stung. Gen didn’t argue, but his disappointment was visible.

Thankfully, Ukyo and Amaryllis came to the rescue.

The two ventured out to find alternatives to fish. Amaryllis gathered fruit—which Gen happily accepted—but Ukyo returned with something even better: three ducks.

Upon seeing them, Gen cried tears of joy.

He spent the rest of the day cuddling against his dear friend, praising him for the miracle.

Neither Senku nor Ryusui minded the display. Both alphas knew the comfort of trusted friends, and Gen deserved a bit of happiness after everything.

Today marked a new day—officially one week since they had arrived, as Senku informed the group that morning.

Despite their progress, one concern still loomed large: Moz.

Ryusui voiced what they had all been thinking. Their alliance with the warrior alpha was temporary—and fragile. Moz could very well double-cross them on the day of the final battle. Once Ibara and his forces were defeated, there was nothing stopping Moz from turning on them and taking the petrification device for himself.

So Senku proposed a countermeasure.

He revealed that he had already worked with Kaseki to create parts for something… and as soon as everyone laid eyes on it, they understood.

Senku was making a pistol.

A very early version of one—simple, mechanical, and undeniably dangerous.

Ukyo immediately voiced his concerns. “We’ve never killed anyone,” he said quietly. “Once you cross that line, you can’t go back. The weight of it… it changes people.”

Ryusui stood beside him, supportive. He agreed. “Cycles of revenge and violence never end. We have a rare chance to stop it before it begins again.”

Senku, ever practical, reassured them. “It won’t be powerful enough to kill. Just enough to injure—to subdue. And if something does happen, we’ll have the petrification device. We can reverse the damage with revival fluid. Clean slate.”

Still, the gleam in his eye as he explained the gun’s purpose—and how he specifically planned to use it against Moz—told a different story.

He wasn’t just being cautious. He wanted to take Moz down.

And no one blamed him for that.

They revived the ex-police officer Yo and quickly explained the situation to him.

Chrome was immediately against the idea.

The brown-haired beta crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “There’s no way he’s the right guy for this. He sucked at being a jailer a year ago, and he’s gonna suck at this too.”

Yo grinned and gave a thumbs-up, unfazed by Chrome’s glare. “C’mon, don’t be like that! This is my time to shine!”

After some coaxing from Gen—and a little flirtatious encouragement from Amaryllis—Yo puffed up with overconfidence. “Watch this, ladies and gents!”

He set up three glass bottles in a row, took aim with the newly built pistol, and fired three quick shots.

All three missed.

Chrome facepalmed immediately. “Yeah, real impressive,” he muttered, clearly vindicated.

But just as Yo was scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, a rustling sound came from above. A snake dropped from a tree branch and landed on the ground with a thud—dead.

Everyone stared.

Yo blinked, then threw his arms into the air. “Hah! Nailed it! I was aiming for the snake all along!”

Gasps and a few impressed murmurs followed, but Chrome narrowed his eyes.

He wasn’t buying it for a second.

_________

September 18th, 5741 AD

“You know, Francois can definitely make a mean pan-seared duck breast with blackberry sauce…” Ryusui said casually as he bit into a grilled duck leg.

Gen’s jaw dropped. He stared at the alpha, scandalized. “That sounds so good…”

He groaned and snapped at Ryusui. “Why would you even say that?! Now I want it! That’s absolutely not air-fay! We need Francois-chan!”

“Sorry,” Senku chimed in lazily, picking at his ear with his pinky. “Used the last three revival fluids on the power team.”

“Day three of me asking for Francois-chan and it’s not going well…” Gen gritted his teeth and turned dramatically to his fellow omega. “Ukyo-chan, they’re so mean.”

“Patience, Gen,” Ukyo said with a soft smile. “We’ll revive them soon enough.”

“My patience is up to here,” Gen snapped, pinching his fingers together until they were barely touching. “Here!”

Then he threw his arms in the air with the flair of a man on the verge. “You’d think eating fish for a week straight is fine, right? Wrong! I’m sick of it! The taste! The smell! Ugh, it makes me want to throw up!”

Ukyo blinked. He’d noticed Gen acting a little strange lately—more dramatic than usual. Stress maybe… or something else. Either way, the mentalist was hitting his limit.

Gen suddenly grabbed Ukyo by the shoulders. “You’re the first person who brought me something that wasn’t fish…” His eyes welled up. “You’re truly an angel, Ukyo-chan. I really love you~!”

He pulled the white-haired omega into a hug, sniffling. “It’s only day three of eating duck, but I’m so happy! I’d rather eat this than fish for the rest of my life… but Ryusui-chan had to ruin it.”

His tone flipped instantly as he spun and shot the golden-haired alpha a glare. “Francois-chan is essential for our survival. We need them. I need them.”

Then, Gen turned sharply toward Senku—who was mid-chew and blinking at him.

“The next person we revive is Francois-chan. Got that, my dear?” Gen’s voice was suddenly sweet, but everyone felt the threat underneath.

Senku blinked, swallowed, and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Francois will be next, Mentalist.”

Gen’s expression lit up like the sun. “Yay~! Glad we came to an agreement!”

After that, Senku watched Gen stand up and stretch before walking off with Ukyo—probably heading toward Yuzuriha, Suika, Nikki, and Amaryllis.

A quiet lull settled over the camp once they were out of sight. After a few minutes, Chrome broke the silence.

“Was the fish that bad? I mean, I can’t imagine getting sick of fish. I love fish,” Chrome said, chewing on a piece of grilled meat.

“Our village had to survive on fish for years,” Soyuz added. “So it’s natural we like it.”

“Hmm,” Ryusui hummed thoughtfully. “I think Gen still has a sensitive stomach from what happened a few days ago.”

Senku stayed quiet for a beat before responding. “Probably… I did overwork his body too. There aren’t many animals to hunt on this island, and we haven’t exactly had the luxury to go out and hunt freely.”

“Oho…” Kaseki chuckled, drawing the group’s attention. “Senku, as his mate, you should already know what’s going on with Gen. Even my old eyes can see it.”

Kaseki wasn’t a fool. He was the oldest among them, and had lived long enough to recognize when someone was clearly pregnant. Gen was showing the signs.

“Oh!” Chrome’s eyes lit up like he’d solved a mystery. “Gen’s constipated! That’s why he’s so moody.”

“That’s not it,” Senku said flatly, shooting the idea down immediately.

“Yeah, Senku would definitely know,” Ryusui added with a snicker, as if he were in on a private joke. Senku shot him a side glance and scoffed.

He turned back to Kaseki with a raised brow. “What do you mean?”

The old beta gave him a thoughtful look, then shook his head. “So even you can be oblivious to this sort of thing, who would’ve thought.” He chuckled heartily. “Senku, my boy. Just trust your instincts—you’ll figure it out eventually.” Kaseki’s expression softened. “Sorry for bringing it up. It’s not exactly the right time.”

Senku frowned, more puzzled than ever. Judging by the looks from Chrome, Soyuz, and even Ryusui, he wasn’t the only one left in the dark.

It was then that Taiju came over with a smile. “Oh! Are you talking about the thing with Moz? Gen looked really uncomfortable the whole time. Maybe he just wants Senku to reassure him!” Taiju nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! He wants you to dote on him! When was the last time you were alone with Gen?”

Ryusui turned his head, propping an elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his palm. He smirked wickedly. “Yeah, Senku. When was the last time you were alone with Gen?” he asked in a mockingly suggestive tone.

“Wasn’t it four days ago?” Soyuz added with a smile—completely oblivious to the subtext in Ryusui’s voice.

“That’s right!” Ryusui snapped his fingers dramatically, still lounging. “It was four days ago. So? What did you two do?”

Senku’s left eye twitched as he felt every gaze turn to him. “Not much. We were on a tight schedule, y’know—building oxygen tanks. These things don’t make themselves.”

Ryusui threw his head back and laughed.

Chrome and Soyuz glanced at each other in confusion, while Taiju joined in Ryusui’s laughter—though it was clear he had no idea why the golden-haired alpha was laughing.

“Why’s that funny?” Soyuz whispered to Chrome.

Chrome shrugged. “No idea. Maybe it’s some inside modern joke?” He turned to Senku with a more serious look. “But geez, Senku… You guys have been working non-stop. And then this Moz guy? That’s just icing on the cake. If Ruri were in Gen’s position, I think I’d snap.”

Ryusui’s laughter faded, and he grew serious. “Moz may be strong and capable, but I didn’t like the way he was looking at Ukyo and Gen. It’s obvious what kind of intentions he has. I want to say it’s just infatuation—some fascination with seeing male omegas—but my instincts say otherwise.”

“Yeah… and I don’t know what words Gen and Moz exchanged. Gen won’t tell me,” Senku sighed, recalling the moment. Gen had his back to them, but they all saw when the omega pointed at his own throat. “Has Ukyo said anything?”

Ryusui shook his head thoughtfully. “No, he hasn’t. I don’t know if he talked to Gen about it—maybe he’s just waiting for a private moment. But whatever it was, it’s serious. Ukyo’s been hovering around Gen like a guard dog ever since.”

“Come to think of it, Amaryllis and Yuzuriha too,” he added, brows furrowed.

“It could be an omega thing,” Chrome suggested. “I wouldn’t know, since I’m a beta.”

“Omegas are more attuned and connected to one another, regardless of gender,” Kaseki said, nodding. He fixed Senku with a serious look. “So it’s natural they feel protective. But you—you—need to be the most attentive, Senku.”

Senku glanced at the old beta.

“Best you keep a close eye on Gen,” Kaseki said firmly. “Make sure you keep him close.”

Senku knew there was another meaning behind Kaseki’s warning.

Tomorrow was the big day—the plan would finally be set in motion. Half the group would be disguised as the mysterious hooded warriors, while the others stayed back with Ryusui to provide support. At the critical moment, Ryusui would use the drone to entangle the petrification device. If Moz attacked, Yo would be on standby to take the shot.

It was a solid plan.

But given Senku’s track record with luck, nothing ever went according to plan.

He nodded in understanding. “I know. I don’t plan on leaving him alone.”

Kaseki smiled, satisfied. “Good. It’s important to keep someone precious to you close—especially someone like Gen.”

In the distance, they could hear Magma and Yo bickering while Kinro tried to step in. Taiju yelped and dashed off toward them. Nikki’s sharp voice rang out, barking orders at the two reckless alphas.

The fire crackled softly in front of them.

Senku’s abandoned dinner sat at his side.

“Yeah…” he muttered, gaze fixed on the flames. “Gen is invaluable and irreplaceable. And as cringy or illogical as it sounds… I don’t think I’d be able to live without him.”

“It takes a real man to admit something like that,” Ryusui said, nodding. “And I don’t blame you. Ukyo is my world.”

“Love sure turned you sappy,” Chrome muttered. “A complete one-eighty from just a month ago, when you were being so stubborn about your obvious crush on Gen.”

Senku’s lips twitched. He couldn’t help but return the jab. “Well, Chrome, you’re still single. I don’t know what’s holding you back from confessing your undying love to Ruri.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Ryusui added, grinning. “Once we’re back on the mainland, confess to her. You’ll enter a whole new world—trust me.”

Chrome rolled his head back with a groan and slumped forward. “I want to, I swear I do. But something tells me… it’s not the right time. At least not yet.”

“Why do you think so, Chrome?” Kaseki asked gently.

Chrome straightened and turned toward Senku, leveling him with a sharp look. “Because I know Senku. After we succeed here, we’re bound for another voyage—and it’s gonna be even longer than this one, aren’t we?”

Senku rubbed the back of his neck nonchalantly. “We’ll discuss that after we petrify and heal Tsukasa. Right now, we’ve gotta focus and make sure we pull off tomorrow’s plan. The Power Team still needs more training, and Ryusui—”

“I already mastered the drone controls,” Ryusui cut in with a smug grin. “Pro gamer before the petrification, remember?”

“Right,” Senku said, pausing briefly before continuing, “Anyway, I’m afraid we won’t get much time to rest. We might be pulling an all-nighter.”

“Seriously?” Chrome sighed.

“Tomorrow, at dawn, we head to the Cliff of the Howling Sea,” Senku said, his voice settling into that familiar tone of command. “We’ll be fast and efficient. If everything goes according to plan, things will go much smoother once we have the petrification device in our hands.”

Senku shrugged as if it were no big deal, but the flicker of tension in his eyes said otherwise.

“I still think a few of us should get some proper rest…” Soyuz said gently, hoping to ease the tension hanging in the air.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Soyuz shrank a little under the weight of their gazes, his shoulders stiffening. “I-I just mean… we’ll need people at full strength tomorrow, right?”

________

September 19th, 5741 AD

Gen let out a quiet yawn as they reached their destination. The waves crashing against the cliffside were loud—loud enough to drown out any stray thoughts.

The Cliff of the Howling Sea… the name truly lived up to its reputation.

Senku placed a steady hand on Gen’s back, gently guiding him along the narrow path. The alpha noted how tired his mate looked. Gen hadn’t gotten much sleep. Despite Soyuz’s suggestion for rotating rest shifts, no one had really managed to sleep—not with the tension of the upcoming battle hanging heavy in the air.

Senku came to a stop, then stepped in front of Gen. He placed both hands on the omega’s shoulders and studied his face closely.

Gen blinked slowly, his expression tired but curious. “What is it, Senku-chan?”

“Ibara, Moz, Kirisame, and the rest of the warriors will be arriving soon,” Senku began, his tone shifting into something serious, something final. “I want you to hang back with Suika in case things take a turn for the worse—”

“Senku-chan—” Gen cut in, a clear note of protest in his voice.

“I need you to run with her. Get as far from here as you can,” Senku said firmly, conviction anchoring each word.

Gen’s mouth parted in disbelief. He reached out, clutching the collar of Senku’s cloak. “Then we’ll run together, Senku-chan.”

Senku’s hands moved to cup Gen’s cheeks, thumbs brushing gently along his jawline. “Gen… I won’t let them get their hands on you. I refuse to let them hurt you. You’re my mate.”

Gen bit his lip, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, Senku-chan. As long as I’m by your side, everything will work out. I just need to stick close—”

Senku frowned, his brows pulling together. “Gen—”

“Why are you asking me to leave you?” Gen’s voice trembled as his eyes began to sting. “I thought we made a promise… to go to hell together. If you’re going to die, then I want to be right beside you—and die alongside you.”

He pulled back slightly, meeting Senku’s eyes with steely resolve. “I’m not going anywhere, Senku-chan. I’ll stay at the back, like you said—but I won’t run.”

Senku sighed, knowing there was no changing his mate’s mind. “Fine… but the first sign of danger, we’re running.”

“Okay,” Gen agreed quietly, then turned and made his way toward the rear of the formation.

Senku exhaled, rubbing his forehead before facing forward again. The roar of the sea was distant now compared to the pounding of his heart.

“Gen will be fine, dude,” Chrome said as he patted Senku’s shoulder. “We’re all here. Let’s just hope things go according to plan.”

Kinro positioned himself at the front of the group. Senku stood between Chrome and Ukyo, while on Ukyo’s other side were Yuzuriha and Amaryllis. Suika and Gen lingered at the rear, though Suika occasionally peeked through the narrow gap between Ukyo and Amaryllis, wide-eyed and alert.

Everyone held a spear, except for Ukyo—Senku had made sure to equip the white-haired omega with his signature bow and a fully stocked quiver of arrows a few days ago.

It didn’t take long for the enemy to arrive.

Senku spotted Kirisame and Moz leading the group of warriors. That meant Ibara was likely lingering in the back, just as they suspected.

After sharing a few hushed words of encouragement with the others, Senku turned his attention toward the approaching figures.

Nearby, Ryusui was crouched beside the drone, ready to act. Soyuz and Yo stood on either side of him, eyes trained on the unfolding scene. The mobile lab was only a few feet away—inside, Taiju, Nikki, and Magma waited, hands on the carbon fiber rope they had crafted, awaiting the signal to pull.

Everyone’s in position, Senku thought with a steadying breath. Everything will go smoothly.

But then—

A large, heavily muscled alpha—one Senku didn’t recognize—suddenly broke formation and charged straight at them.

Kinro moved instantly. He lunged forward, thrusting his spear toward the attacker. The man veered to dodge, but it forced him to break momentum.

And just like that—

The battle had begun.

Senku held up a mirror, angling it just right to catch the sunlight and reflect it toward the enemy. Beside him, Chrome burst out laughing as more beams of light bounced off additional mirrors, temporarily blinding their attackers.

Ukyo loosed a series of warning arrows, keeping the enemy warriors at bay.

Meanwhile, Moz theatrically encouraged Yuzuriha, Amaryllis, and Suika to attack him. He jumped back dramatically, as if their blows had launched him with immense force.

Senku watched as Moz mumbled something to Kirisame.

She hesitated—then finally reached into her robes and pulled out the petrification device.

It’s time.

Kirisame swung the rope overhead in a wide arc, the device glinting in the light. Then, with practiced precision, she hurled it into the air—high, directly toward them.

“She threw the petrification device! Ryusui—send in the drone!” Senku shouted.

But the moment the words left his mouth, Senku froze.

A chilling dread spread down his spine.

Something’s not right.

His gaze darted across the enemy formation. No sign of Ibara.

For the first time… Senku felt like he had walked into a trap.

His fingers twitched. Instinctively, he started running through every detail—analyzing the numbers, angles, outcomes.

Kirisame’s throw—the angle. The force.

The trajectory.

It was off.

Too off.

Based on her throw, the petrification wave wouldn’t just strike their intended targets—it would hit some of their own team as well. And Kirisame wasn’t the type to make mistakes like that.

No.

This was intentional.

Senku’s heart dropped.

The petrification device she threw… is a fake.

“Everyone, get your asses back to the mobile lab!” Senku shouted.

Instantly, the team snapped into motion.

They ran.

Senku spotted Ryusui and Nikki at the rear, arms outstretched as the mobile lab began to accelerate. Ukyo led the charge, clearing the path ahead.

“Senku!” Moz’s voice rang out behind them, sharp and mocking. “It was always my intention to kill you all—don’t take it personally!”

The hairs on the back of Senku’s neck stood up. He forced his legs to move faster. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of a black coat inside the mobile lab—just behind Ryusui.

Gen’s inside already. Relief surged through him, but only for a heartbeat.

Ahead, Ukyo suddenly slowed. Kinro, Yuzuriha, and Amaryllis passed him, throwing glances of confusion his way.

Without a word, Ukyo scooped Suika into his arms and surged forward again, speeding past the others. Then—with a powerful leap—he launched himself toward the mobile lab, arm outstretched.

Ryusui caught his hand with a solid grip, yanking Ukyo and Suika aboard with Nikki’s help. Ukyo immediately turned and reached back out, bracing himself to pull the others in.

Kinro climbed in first, then Yuzuriha and Amaryllis, one after the other.

Senku, breathing hard, shoved Chrome ahead of him with more force than expected—making sure the beta got inside first.

“Go!” he barked.

Chrome stumbled in just as Ukyo grabbed his arm.

Senku leapt, catching the edge of the doorframe. He hauled himself up and tumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

The moment the latch clicked, the engine roared.

Whoever was driving floored it.

The mobile lab sped off—wheels tearing into the dirt, engine howling against the chaos they’d narrowly escaped.

Senku’s eyes narrowed as he looked through the back window—Moz was still chasing them, wild-eyed and relentless.

“Did everyone make it? That was so scary!” Suika cried, clinging to Ryusui’s shoulders. The golden-haired alpha held her securely in his arms while Ukyo stood protectively at his side, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Yeah, now let’s leave Monster Moz in the dust!” Chrome shouted. He turned to look out the window and paled. “Whoever’s driving, floor it!”

He screamed. “Like now! He’s getting closer! He’s out for blood!”

“It kind of reminds me of those scary chase scenes in movies… or video games…” Yuzuriha murmured, clutching Amaryllis beside her.

Ryusui chuckled. “Oh yeah. Nothing gets the adrenaline going like a good old-fashioned chase scene… I love this part.”

“Hmph.” Yo scoffed and strutted confidently to the center of the lab. “Wouldn’t this be the perfect moment to finally take down the almighty Moz?”

Senku crossed his arms, watching silently as Yo reached for the pistol holstered at his side.

“With my pistol, I’ll save everyone and you’ll bow down and thank me!” Yo declared, puffing up. “I’ll even take over as leader if you insist, Senku!”

“Save your gratitude and applause for after I shoot a few holes in Moz." Grinning, he gripped the handle.

"Hasta la vista, Moz—” He yanked the pistol free— And blinked.

Then screamed.

“—What the fuck?!” He was holding a thick wooden stick, clumsily shaped like a gun. “Where’s my real gun—? ARGHHHH!!”

“Wait.” Suika looked around, her voice small but anxious. “Aren’t we… missing people?”

At that, Senku felt his heart plummet.

Gen was too quiet.

His mate would’ve chimed in by now—teasing someone, calming nerves, or offering dramatic commentary. Unless…

“Taiju’s the one driving,” Nikki said, hand beneath her chin.

Senku froze.

That confirmed it.

“Where the hell is Gen?” he barked, whipping around, eyes scanning the cramped space. He pushed people aside, hoping—praying—Gen was hiding, crouched behind someone, tucked into a corner.

But there was no trace of him.

“Now that you mention it… I haven’t seen Gen. Or that idiot,” Nikki added with a deepening frown.

“Everyone was wearing cloaks,” Yuzuriha said quietly, glancing around. “I didn’t notice… I didn’t see—”

“Magma!” Yo shouted, face turning red. “That fucking bastard! I’m going to kill him! Gen’s probably in on it too—AGH!”

Yo’s voice cut off with a choking noise.

Ukyo had him by the throat, eyes sharp and deadly.

“If I hear you curse again, I will cut your vocal cords,” he said softly, his tone colder than ice. “There’s a child here. And Senku’s already on edge with Gen missing. Blaming him will only make things worse.”

Yo let out a wheeze.

“It’s too late,” Ryusui muttered, stepping forward. He gently pulled Ukyo’s hand away and guided him back. “Yo already pissed him off.”

Senku’s eyes locked on Yo—burning, red-hot.

His jaw clenched tight. His scent spiked sharply, the acrid tang of burning wood flooding the room. Anger. Panic. Rage.

He walked up to Yo, shoved him hard against the door, and leaned in close.

His voice dropped to a low, unnervingly calm whisper.

“Yo,” he said, eyes narrowing into slits. “You would’ve been the last person to see them—if Magma stole your weapon.”

His breath was hot, nearly hissing through clenched teeth. “I’ll only ask once. You better tell me exactly what happened to my mate.”

“Uh…” Yo chuckled nervously, pinned against the door. He’d never seen this side of Senku before and honestly, it was terrifying. He almost shit his pants.

“W-well, you know how we pulled an all-nighter?”

Senku narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“It’s natural to feel tired, right?” Yo babbled, raising both hands in surrender as Senku’s stare grew colder. “So I thought I’d just… y’know, catch some Zzz’s. Like five, ten minutes tops! I stayed close to Nikki and Taiju! They would’ve woken me up instantly—!”

“…” Senku didn’t speak.

He just pressed his forearm tighter against Yo’s throat.

Yo’s breath hitched. “Mag…ma!” he choked out. “He—he must’ve taken it while I was out! Switched the gun—shit!”

Senku finally released him.

Yo slid down the door, gasping and pulling at his own hair, muttering a string of panicked curses aimed squarely at Magma.

Senku turned, face like carved stone. “Ryusui,” he said flatly, “I need you to take over as driver.”

Ryusui straightened, all playfulness gone.

Senku continued, voice cold and precise. “Knowing that stupid idiot, he’s probably heading toward Ibara. And Ibara is definitely on the Perseus.”

His jaw tightened.

“Magma took Gen with him the moment he was caught. He didn’t want to leave any trace behind.”

The room fell silent.

There was no question in Senku’s tone—just grim certainty.

“Let’s go rescue my mate,” Senku said, voice tight with restrained fury, “before Magma does something irreversible.”

He clenched his fist, the scent of smoke still curling around him like a warning.

Gen whined, chasing after Magma, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he rubbed the back of his head—it hurt. All he wanted to do was double-check on the others before returning to his post. He’d had a bad feeling. And now, he was glad he listened to it.

Because he caught Magma sneaking off.

The idiot was creeping away from a sleeping Yo, clutching something in his hand, chuckling like a cartoon villain.

Yeah… even at a glance, it was suspicious enough to raise alarms.

“What are you doing, Magma-chan?” Gen asked cautiously, his voice lined with unease.

Magma paused mid-chuckle and turned slightly—just enough for Gen to catch a glint of metal in his hand.

A gun.

Gen groaned internally.

“Eriously-say? The battle’s just about to begin and you’re stealing Yo’s pistol?” he scolded, frowning as he marched toward the muscled alpha. He held out his hand like he was scolding a misbehaving toddler. “You don’t even know how to use a gun. You’re endangering yourself and the others. Give it here, and let’s get back to our positions—”

Magma’s lips pulled into a thin line. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then raised a fist.

Gen’s eyes widened in shock. A jolt of fear shot through him as he instinctively raised his arms to shield himself. He shut his eyes tight, teeth clenched as he braced for impact.

Crack.

Pain bloomed across his skull, and a sharp, wounded whimper escaped his lips.

Magma froze at the sound, realizing too late what he’d triggered

The sound—it wasn’t just pain. It was an omega’s distress call, raw and piercing. Primal, involuntary. The kind of cry that summoned mates with bloodlust and sharp teeth.

It rattled him.

He knew what that sound meant.

If injured or cornered, an omega’s cry could trigger instinctive responses from nearby—especially their mate. It was an unconscious signal, a biological scream for protection. If Senku had heard it…

Shit.

Panic surged through Magma’s chest.

Gen’s whimpering echoed like glass cracking in the air.

He lunged forward and slapped a hand over Gen’s mouth, hissing through clenched teeth, “You’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This weapon’s better in my hands—Yo’s useless.”

Gen struggled under his grip, muffled cries escaping as tears welled at the corners of his eyes. He tried to pry Magma’s hand away, fingers clawing at his wrist, but the alpha only gripped him tighter.

The pain in his head made it hard to focus. His entire body throbbed. His stomach churned with a strange, twisted heat—one he couldn’t name.

Gen couldn’t breathe.

Magma’s heart thundered in his chest.

If Senku and the others heard Gen’s cry, then Magma was in big trouble.

And he knew it.

He hadn’t seen what Senku would do when it came to protecting Gen—but he could imagine. If Senku’s alpha instincts were even half as sharp as he claimed, the outcome wouldn’t be pretty. Not with an entire pack at his back, ready to rip through anything for their leader.

Senku was respected. Trusted. Followed.

Magma was tolerated.

He refused to be ordered around by another alpha—especially Senku. He was only tagging along, waiting for the perfect chance to snatch the leadership role away from him.

In front of him, Gen’s muffled breathing turned into sharp, shallow gasps as he fought against Magma’s grip. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he clawed at the larger man’s hand.

They won’t hear us anyway, Gen thought bitterly, glaring through damp lashes. We’re at the cliffs of the Howling Sea. No one would hear a scream over those waves.

Magma felt Gen’s gaze and narrowed his eyes.

“If I let you go,” he warned, voice low and edged with something cruel, “don’t scream. Or I’ll knock you out again and leave you for dead. Maybe our group finds your body. Maybe it’s the enemy. Who knows?”

Gen’s heart pounded, but he swallowed back the heat in his throat. He glared defiantly and gave a slow, reluctant nod.

Magma released him.

Silence.

The two stood there, breath mingling with the sea-salt air and the distant crash of waves. Then Magma turned on his heel and took off into the woods, branches snapping as he disappeared from view.

Gen stood frozen for a beat, wiping the tears from his face with the sleeve of his cloak. His head throbbed—stars danced in his vision—but he kept his feet beneath him. His stomach twisted again, a nauseous heat crawling beneath his skin, but he pushed through it.

He looked in the direction Magma had gone. His eyes darkened, fury beginning to eclipse the fear.

You messed with the wrong omega, Gen thought, growling under his breath.

He ran after him, quietly, all the while muttering low, sharp curses under his breath—words that could’ve passed for hexes.

Or a prayer for vengeance.

Magma cackled as he ran, pistol clutched in front of him like a prized trophy.

“You idiot buffoon!” Gen shouted, panting as he chased him. “If you accidentally fire that thing and shoot yourself, I swear, I’ll laugh at your stupidity!”

The omega skidded to a stop for a moment, breathing hard, eyes wide as he caught the familiar roar of a motor behind him. He turned—just in time to see the mobile lab speeding off into the distance.

The others were retreating.

They were leaving him behind.

Gen’s heart twisted, not in fear—but in hurt. For a split second, Magma was forgotten. “Now the others are leaving…!” he choked out. “How far did you plan this? How long were you waiting to screw everything up?”

His voice cracked. The distance between him and the mobile lab widened with every second.

Senku-chan… do you know I’m gone yet?

Magma stopped at a clearing near the cliffs. The elevation offered a sweeping view of the ocean—and the palace just in front of them.

He crouched in the grass, grinning like a madman.

“I’ll take out that Ibara guy from here,” he muttered, lifting the pistol. “Once he’s gone, I’ll be king of this whole island. No more following your sorcery and plans. No more Senku.”

“It’s not that simple!” Gen snapped, fury flaring. “Because of you, everything’s fallen apart! Senku-chan’s plan is ruined!”

Magma leaned back a little, surprised by the sharpness in the omega’s voice. “Who knew you had that side hidden away…” he muttered.

Gen opened his mouth to retort—but something caught his eye.

Movement.

He turned his head slowly, breath hitching.

Out on the water, the Perseus was no longer anchored.

The ship was moving.

“Huh?” Gen whispered, stepping forward toward the cliff’s edge. “The Perseus is… sailing?”

The large vessel cut through the waves, dark silhouettes visible on the deck. The enemy must have finally seized it—after lying in wait for days, they’d taken the chance to strike while Senku’s group was distracted.

And now, they were getting away.

Gen immediately started after the Perseus, following it along the cliffside. His steps were cautious, careful not to slip and fall over the edge. At this point, he completely disregarded Magma. That idiot wasn’t the priority anymore.

Branches whipped at his legs as he pushed through low trees and hopped over gnarled roots. His eyes stayed glued to the ship below—and because of that, he missed one.

Shit—!

He stumbled forward, arms flailing—but managed to catch himself against a tree. A few rocks tumbled over the edge, clicking down the cliffside.

Gen froze, breath caught in his chest.

Then slowly, shakily, he exhaled.

He pushed off the tree, knees trembling slightly, but kept going.

They had to have seen the Perseus by now—Senku, Ukyo, the others. They had to.

The omega finally reached the edge. He crouched to get a better look.

The Perseus was no longer just sailing—it had stopped.

Villagers were being herded onto small boats. Warriors waited at the ship’s ramp, pulling people onboard.

Gen’s stomach twisted.

Below him, a steep slope led to the beach. Climbing down would be tricky—but not impossible. It reminded him a little of a slide, if the slide were made of rock, dirt, and death.

Just then, a maniacal laugh rang out beside him.

A blur of blue darted past—Magma.

“Wait, what—?!” Gen yelped.

Magma launched himself over the edge, laughing like a lunatic as he slid down the slope recklessly.

Gen groaned. “Unbelievable. Moron.”

He had no idea what Magma’s plan was and frankly didn’t care—he just needed to get down there before the Perseus disappeared for good.

Gritting his teeth, Gen lowered himself to the slope and began descending slowly, inch by inch. Tiny rocks dislodged and rolled down around him. Dust clung to his skin, stinging his eyes.

Steady… steady…

Then—his foot slipped.

Gen gasped as he fell backward, landing hard on his backside with a dusty whump. Thankfully, the angle of the slope cushioned the impact, but now he was sliding, fast.

“Ahh—!” he squealed.

His legs flailed—one stretched out, the other tucked in. One arm was braced at his side, trying to catch something—anything—for grip. The other was out in front of his stomach, protectively shielding himself on instinct.

He squinted through the dust, watching helplessly as the bottom of the cliff rushed up to meet him.

Just as Magma was getting up, Gen’s leg slammed into him, knocking the alpha face-first into the dirt.

Gen blinked in surprise, momentarily stunned by the unexpected collision. But when he realized he was unhurt, he scrambled upright and quickly patted himself down, checking for any bruises or scrapes.

Everything seemed intact—well, except for the dull throb in his head, courtesy of Magma.

“Wow, that was scary~” Gen huffed, brushing dust off his sleeves. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he stepped neatly over Magma’s groaning form.

“Thanks for cushioning my fall, Magma-chan.”

Magma pushed himself off the ground and scowled at Gen. “You’re heavier than you look.”

Gen gasped, mouth dropping open in offense. “You take that back!”

Magma clicked his tongue and turned his attention toward the Perseus. Standing on deck was a tall, older alpha with strange blue tattoos and a wide-brimmed hat. Magma narrowed his eyes. “Whoa… that’s one ugly old fucker. That’s definitely our guy—Ibara. Hehe, time to take him out!”

He raised the pistol and aimed.

“At this distance?” Gen grimaced. “You won’t even nick him.”

Magma ignored him, trying to school his features into something serious and focused.

“Making that face won’t help either!” Gen muttered, rubbing his temples.

Then—bang.

The shot rang out, sharp and thunderous. Gen staggered back, wincing at the sound.

His jaw dropped. The bullet veered far off course, punching a clean hole through the side of a small sailboat drifting nearby.

“Great. Now everyone knows where we are,” Gen deadpanned, watching in horror as warriors aboard the Perseus turned to look in their direction. “And you just hit the tiny boat!”

“Wow, this thing sucks,” Magma muttered in disappointment, eyeing the gun like it had betrayed him.

“No, you suck! The person wielding it has zero training and horrible aim!” Gen snapped.

But then—his eyes lit up.

He turned toward the little boat Magma had hit. Two panicked warriors were frantically trying to plug the hole. Gen straightened his posture, let out a soft hum, and then raised his hand dramatically.

“The power of sorcery equals death~!” he called out. “I can summon rains of stones from the sky. That hole in your boat? Just a glimpse of my power. Shall I put holes in your bodies next? Mmm… maybe in your eyeballs?”

The warriors screamed in terror, jumping overboard with wild splashes before bolting inland.

Gen blinked, pleased.

Without missing a beat, he hiked up his robe, waddled through the shallow water, and clambered onto the abandoned boat with a triumphant little smirk. “Much better.”

Magma cackled behind him, grabbing one of the oars the panicked warriors had left behind and beginning to steer the little boat.

“There! With this, you should be able to aim closer at Ibara-chan—”

Gen froze mid-sentence as a horrifying realization hit him. His eyes widened in alarm.

“Wait! Turn back! I want to get off!!”

He scrambled toward the edge of the boat, ready to leap back into the shallow waters—but a strong hand yanked his collar, dragging him back and flipping him onto the floorboards.

The omega let out a yelp as his back hit the wet wood with a thud. The water spouting from the bullet hole Magma had created earlier was now soaking him thoroughly.

Gen tried to crawl away, but Magma planted one heavy foot on his back, pinning him down like a misbehaving puppy.

“Ughh! Get off! You’re heavy! I wanna go back to the safety of the mobile lab!” Gen hissed, squirming beneath him.

Magma, grinning wickedly, let out another deep laugh. “You’re more useful than I thought. I’ve taken a liking to you! I’ll allow you to serve under me—like Mantle!”

Gen whipped his head around with a furious glare. “EW, no! Have you forgotten that you’ve tried to kill me? Twice! There’s no way I’d ever be loyal to someone like you!”

“I almost forgot about that—but it was that one time! I thought you were Senku… wait, how did you even survive? I aimed for your heart!” Magma huffed, genuinely confused.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Gen snapped. “And the second time was when you bashed my head! A blow to the head is fatal!”

He threw an arm back and smacked Magma’s leg in protest.

“Whatever!” Magma roared, throwing his head back in laughter.

“Senku-chan!!” Gen whined dramatically, as if calling his mate would magically teleport him away from this cursed boat and this brainless alpha.

Magma finally lifted his foot off him, and Gen groaned as he pushed himself upright. He was absolutely soaked.

He scrambled to his knees and slapped both hands over the leaking bullet hole in the boat’s floor, water still rushing up around his fingers.

Gen glared up at Magma with pure, righteous fury. “The boat’s literally sinking! And after this? I don’t want to be anywhere near you again!”

Gen heard grunts and loud splashes behind them.

“Magmaaa!” Senku’s voice cut sharply through the sea air.

Gen whipped his head around. There he was—Senku, standing in the boat with gritted teeth, his crimson eyes blazing as he glared furiously in Magma’s direction.

Nikki and Ryusui rowed with practiced urgency, their oars slicing through the water. Kinro and Chrome clung to the sides of the boat as it surged forward, Ryusui barking commands between strokes. Yo cursed a string of profanities, all aimed at Magma, while Senku stood stiff with his arms crossed. Kaseki, oddly calm, sat at the back, watching everything unfold with quiet patience.

“Senku-chan!” Gen beamed, his voice cracking with relief. “You came for me!”

Before he could say more, Magma jerked the oar, speeding up the boat so suddenly that Gen toppled backwards with a loud oomph.

“I’m getting the final kill! Go back!” Magma shouted. “That old geezer is mine! He’s my prey!”

Another shot rang out. The bullet struck a stone pillar behind Ibara—then another tore through the sails. A few more wild shots followed.

“Just give it up! You’re absolutely errible-tay at this!” Gen growled, scowling at Magma’s atrocious aim.

He couldn’t quite make out Senku’s reply over the splashing, but he could see his mate turning to give fast, sharp orders to the others. The two boats were approaching the Perseus’ boarding ramp fast.

With a loud crack, Magma’s boat crashed against the ramp. The muscled alpha jumped out like a rabid dog and ran up it, hotly pursued by Nikki, Kinro, and Ryusui.

Gen groaned and dragged himself to the edge, waterlogged and sluggish. Just as he reached the ramp, a familiar hand reached out to him.

Without thinking, Gen took it—and was pulled up and onto the ship in one strong motion.

Senku caught him by the waist and steadied him.

“What happened to sticking by my side?” Senku asked lowly, his voice laced with unspoken worry beneath the edge of his words. “You said you weren’t going anywhere.”

Chrome, Kaseki, and Yo ran past them, chasing after the others, but Senku kept his eyes locked on Gen.

“Senku-chan…” Gen collapsed into his arms with a pitiful whine. “It was terrible! I had a bad feeling and look where that got me… This is the last time I let myself get left alone with Magma. He tried to kill me—twice!”

Senku’s arms tensed around him. “What?”

Gen froze at the chilling tone of his voice and slowly pulled back. “I-I’m just being dramatic, Senku-chan,” he tried to laugh it off, eyes flicking sideways. “Y’know me…”

Senku didn’t respond immediately—his eyes flickered, lips parting like he had a thousand things to say and not enough time to say them. Finally, he said, voice low but firm, “We’ll talk later, mentalist. Later.”

He took Gen’s hand and tugged him along as they ran. “Taiju and Yuzuriha’s team is already retrieving the Master’s statue. They’ll bring it here and we’ll show everyone who they’re really following. That means our job is to create as much chaos and distraction as possible until then.”

“There’s so many of them, and we’re only nine!” Gen yelped, letting himself be dragged like a reluctant toddler on a leash.

“Die! Die! DIE!” Magma’s manic screams rang out as he fired wildly in Ibara’s direction. “That bastard’s head is mine—!”

Whack!

Nikki slammed her fist down on Magma’s head with such force that the alpha bit his tongue mid-rant.

“Enough!” she snapped. “We’re not here to kill anyone… except maybe you!”

“You bitch! How dare—” Magma clutched his head, dropping the gun as he growled at her.

Nikki stepped forward, puffing out her chest and rolling her shoulders with a crack. “You’re the bitch, you walking joke. Come on, Magma—I can take you with my eyes closed.”

“Nikki-chan… my savior,” Gen whispered reverently, stars in his eyes as he gazed at the female alpha.

Yo quickly snatched up the pistol and checked the chamber. “You motherfucker!” he shouted, snapping his head toward Magma. “There’s only three bullets left?!”

Senku was already on it. He pulled out a small vial from his coat and uncapped it. “Just need magnesium…” He sprinkled the fine powder onto a strip of cloth, tied it to the pistol’s nozzle with practiced ease, and smirked. “Voilà. Instant fireworks.”

Yo’s eyes gleamed with delight. The orange-haired alpha took aim and fired straight into the sky.

BOOM!

A brilliant flash of light exploded overhead. “WOOOOHOOO!” Yo whooped. “MY SPEAR OF LIGHT! BOW BEFORE ME, PEASANTS!”

Gen’s eyes glittered with mischief as he stepped forward dramatically, arms flung wide like a showman on stage. “Behold our sorcery at its core! We’ll set you all ablaze with our ancient magic! Lumos Solem! Oooo~!”

Panic erupted. Warriors shrieked and leapt overboard in sheer terror.

Gen let out a satisfied cackle, beaming. “Works every time.”

“Harry Potter, huh?” Senku snorted beside him, amused.

“Yep~” Gen chirped, proud of his showmanship.

Then—

“Shit!” Chrome squeaked from the deck. “Senku, we’ve got a problem! It looks like Monster Moz caught up and he looks terrifying!”

Senku and Gen turned sharply.

There he was.

Moz’s face was twisted in something between a snarl and a murderous grin as his boat slammed against the boarding ramp. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. His eyes were locked directly onto Senku, but the intent was clear.

Moz is out for blood.

“What the hell happened while I was gone?” Gen whispered, eyes widening as Moz’s boat slammed against the boarding ramp.

“Things didn’t go according to his plan,” Senku replied with a dark chuckle. “Now he wants payback. Negotiations are off the table.”

“A one-on-one battle between Senku and Moz—who will win?” Ryusui quipped, placing a supportive hand on Senku’s shoulder, which the alpha promptly shrugged off.

“It’s like you’re asking me to walk straight to my death…” Senku muttered under his breath.

“Alright, Yo. It’s up to you,” Nikki said sharply, watching as Yo stepped forward and aimed his pistol at Moz, who had just landed on the ramp.

But before Yo could pull the trigger, Moz lunged—his spear slashing in an arc and knocking Yo clean off the boat.

“Eep! The gun!” Gen cried, clutching the back of Senku’s tunic. “We’re done for!”

Moz landed on the deck with a heavy thud. Without hesitation, Kinro charged at him. The clash was immediate—spear against spear.

Moz parried Kinro’s first strike effortlessly, their weapons clanging as Kinro spun his spear and jabbed toward Moz’s side. But Moz dodged with frightening precision and countered—his blade slicing across Kinro’s chest and sending him stumbling backward.

Chrome’s eyes darted toward a side door leading below deck. “Here, quick!” he shouted, flinging it open.

Magma immediately darted inside first, much to Chrome’s visible annoyance.

Nikki caught Kinro just in time, her arms straining as she lowered the bleeding alpha. Without hesitation, she passed him off to Ryusui, who dragged Kinro’s body through the open door.

Gen gasped as Nikki turned on her heel and charged at Moz, fist raised.

“Nikki-chan!” he cried out in alarm—just in time to see her knocked aside like a rag doll.

Both Senku and Gen rushed forward, grabbing Nikki and dragging her back toward the door. Ryusui met them halfway, lifting Nikki with ease. “Get inside—shut the damn door!”

Gen glanced back—Moz was approaching with the slow, calm gait of a predator. “Senku-chan,” he whispered, clutching Senku’s sleeve, “please tell me you’ve got some kind of scientific trump card tucked away in those sleeves…”

Senku didn’t answer with words—he slammed the heavy door shut and latched it with a metal bolt. Then he grabbed Gen’s hand and bolted down the staircase. “I’m afraid we’re all out of those!” he called as they descended.

Behind them, they heard the creak of the steps and a low, deliberate whistle—Moz.

“I’m going to kill you and all your friends, Senku,” his voice sang, distorted by the enclosed wood “Maybe I’ll spare your omega and make him mine.”

Gen flinched at that, shivering in revulsion.

“Like hell you will,” Senku snarled, spotting Chrome holding the door open ahead. He shoved Gen through it first without hesitation.

Chrome slammed the door shut behind them and locked it tight.

Gen glanced around, a sense of familiarity prickling at the back of his mind.

Wait a second—this was the storage room. The same one where Hyoga-chan and Homura-chan were kept.

His eyes immediately locked onto the small wooden cell, and there they were: the petrified statues of Hyoga and Homura, right where they’d been left.

“Get behind me, Gen. And stay close. Don’t leave my sight,” Senku ordered, stepping in front of him protectively. Gen didn’t protest—he couldn’t. Not when Senku’s scent filled the room like a thick, grounding shield, blanketing over him with firm reassurance.

“We’re cornered… this is bad,” Chrome muttered, his voice tight with anxiety just as the door in front them shuddered violently—Moz, no doubt, trying to break in.

With a thunderous clang, the reinforced metal door collapsed inward. Moz stood there, spear in hand, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Just behind him, Ibara emerged, clapping slowly.

“You filthy little intruders,” the older alpha rasped, his voice a cruel purr. “This old man is touched. Almost moved to tears.”

The applause ceased as Ibara peered down at them. “But every game must come to an end.”

His gaze swept over the group—five alphas, two betas, and… that last one. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed. He couldn’t tell what the bi-colored haired man was. Whatever he expected, Gen’s heavily masked scent left him guessing.

Gen held his breath as Senku subtly pulled out a bottle of revival fluid, hiding it behind his leg.

“You didn’t corner us,” Senku said coolly, eyes flashing. “We let you back us into this room… because it’s exactly where we need to be.”

And with that, Senku hurled the vial with deadly precision.

The glass shattered against Hyoga’s statue.

“We’ve still got one card left,” Senku announced as the room filled with the sharp hiss of reviving chemicals. “The one I didn’t want to use.”

His lips curled into a smirk.

“The joker.”

It made sense—there was no way Ibara and the others could’ve opened the lock on their own. Gen stepped forward, took out a pin, and picked the lock with practiced ease. The latch clicked and fell to the floor with a soft thud.

“We have no other choice…” Kinro stepped forward and held his golden spear out toward the cage. “I’ll entrust you with this, Hyoga!”

With a fluid motion, Hyoga reached out and took the weapon as he stepped out of the wooden cell. He loomed over the group, tall and imposing, his sharp gaze scanning each face in the room, calculating.

Gen shifted behind Senku nervously. “Hyoga-chan… long time no see…”

“We lost the gun,” Nikki muttered, worried. “The only thing that could’ve knocked this guy back in the cage. He’s stupidly strong. What are we supposed to do if he turns on us?”

“I’ll leave that problem to the future of the Kingdom of Science,” Senku replied calmly, eyes locked on Hyoga. “We don’t even know if he’ll help us at all, but right now he’s the only one who stands a chance against Moz.”

Ibara, who had remained oddly quiet, suddenly turned on his heel and bolted for the exit.

Magma immediately sneered. “Where do you think you’re going, you crusty old—”

Before he could finish, Moz was already moving. In one swift motion, the spear-wielding warrior slammed Magma into the wall, and the muscled alpha crumpled with a grunt.

“No one’s getting out,” Moz said coldly, eyes flicking to the rest of the room.

The tension sharpened.

Hyoga finally spoke, breaking the silence. “Let me guess… that alpha is Moz-kun?” His voice was cool, amused. “You want me to fight him. That’s the only reason you chose to wake me up.”

“You sure are quick to figure that out,” Senku muttered.

Hyoga glanced sideways, locking eyes with him. “Aside from this room reeking of your scent…” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Senku-kun, you do realize I’m your enemy, right?”

“How could I forget?” Senku replied dryly, not missing a beat.

Hyoga tapped the spear against his shoulder, deep in thought as he weighed his options.

“I have two choices,” he mused aloud. “I could side with Senku-kun and save your little kingdom… or I could join Moz-kun and crush it completely. The decision, it seems, rests solely in my hands.”

Gen fiddled with his hands, tucking them into the sleeves of his purple overcoat anxiously. There had to be a way to tip Hyoga toward their side.

This should be easy. He was a mentalist, after all. This was his specialty. All he had to do was pit Hyoga against Moz—convince him that Moz was a threat to his ego, his goals, or his pride. Or… maybe he could sway Moz to believe Hyoga had already chosen a side.

His mind spun with ideas until it hit one so absurd it might just work.

Gen glanced up at Nikki.

She looked at him, confused. Her brows furrowed as if to ask: What now?

A romantic soap opera, Gen thought. Starring Hyoga-chan and Nikki-chan…

He bit his lip. It was a gamble. He didn’t even know Hyoga’s type—beta, alpha, omega, male, female—none of it. But what mattered was the performance.

“Psst… Nikki-chan,” Gen whispered.

She leaned in. “What?”

“Sorry to ask you this, but… could you pretend you’re in love with Hyoga-chan?”

Her jaw dropped, face turning pink. She glanced nervously at the back of the tall, white-haired alpha.

“What?! No way! That’s more Amaryllis’ thing. Besides, Hyoga isn’t even my type,” she whispered back, flustered.

“There’s no one else but you!” Gen hissed, inching closer. “It’s okay if you’re as bad at acting as Kohaku-chan. Just say something sweet like, ‘You’re so handsome,’ or ‘You make my heart swoon.’ Easy.”

Nikki looked at the ground, still red-faced. “I… I could try, but lines like that… they’re supposed to be for someone you actually love.”

Gen blinked. Ah. That’s right. He had nearly forgotten Nikki was a hopeless romantic underneath all that muscle and fire.

Before he could reassure her again, he felt himself being lifted by the back of his collar. Like a misbehaving kitten.

Gen yelped and found himself face-to-face with Hyoga.

“What are you scheming?” Hyoga asked, voice cool but amused. “I caught a few words. Something about ‘love,’ ‘type,’ and… ‘Kohaku-kun’?”

He slowly lowered Gen back to the floor. “Speaking of which… I’m surprised Kohaku-kun isn’t here. Where is she?”

The second Gen’s boots hit the wooden floorboards, his brain kicked into high gear.

Hyoga-chan’s curious about Kohaku… that has to be something. That’s a string I can pull.

Kohaku had been Hyoga’s jailer for the past year or so. He didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship—maybe they had bonded over shared strength, even developed a reluctant respect. Perhaps something deeper had formed.

Gen wasn’t sure. But the one undeniable fact was this: Kohaku had drawn Hyoga as part of the message she sent.

That meant something. And Gen could work with that.

He still had that piece of pink fabric Kohaku had torn from her dress, the one she’d used to communicate with them. A small smile curled his lips as he decided to milk this for all it was worth.

He stepped forward, voice trembling ever-so-slightly for effect. “Kohaku-chan… she was cornered.”

All eyes turned to him.

“She infiltrated the harem in an attempt to steal the petrification device but was caught. She fought Moz-chan in a brutal battle. There were fatal injuries on both sides. In the end, they petrified her and Ginro-chan… but who knows what they’ve done with her statue now!” Gen pressed the back of his hand to his forehead with practiced drama. “Our group split up to find her. We had to.”

He rummaged in the hidden pockets of his overcoat, carefully pulling out the torn pink fabric. “This… this is the last message she sent us.” His voice softened, reverent. “She still struggles with writing, but her meaning was clear. She wanted us to revive you, Hyoga-chan!”

He flipped the fabric around, revealing the crude yet unmistakable sketch of Hyoga and spear. He held it out with two hands, like an offering.

Hyoga took the fabric and stared at it silently.

“She believed you’d help us in battle,” Gen whispered, covering his mouth dramatically. “The faith she has in you is… unwavering.”

Sorry, Kohaku-chan, Gen thought inwardly, just trust me on this one.

Hyoga studied the rough drawing. There was no denying it. It was Kohaku.

Back when she’d acted as his jailer, she often brought him food and stayed to chat. She was curious—relentlessly so—about modern times, about Kudayari, about the world he came from. During those quiet moments, she’d sometimes doodle with whatever she had on hand. Once, she’d even absentmindedly drawn him.

So yes, Hyoga recognized the art style.

But… why had she drawn him? Why would she ask for his help?

He didn’t know if half of what Gen said was true. And yet—he couldn’t deny the drawing. She wanted him here.

Then—

“Kohaku?” Moz scoffed behind them. “The blonde beta beauty? Oh, she was a handful all right. Looked good, sure—but that personality? Ugly. All bark, no bite.”

Gen’s lips parted, eyes widening at the insult. Even Hyoga’s grip on the spear visibly tightened.

A shift.

And a dangerous silence filled the air.

No one could deny that Hyoga held a deep sense of respect for Kohaku—whether or not it was romantic.

She was a formidable fighter. Brave. Direct. Worthy of being taken seriously.

“That’s enough, Gen-kun,” Hyoga said quietly, tucking the pink fabric into the cord at his waist like it was something worth keeping. He lowered his spear, resting it lightly against his shoulder.

“You’re very efficient at your job. And I value your silver tongue… as if it were made of pure gold.”

His pale eyes shifted to Nikki. “You too, Nikki-kun. You were willing to go along with Gen’s scheme, despite how uncomfortable it made you. I can respect that.”

Gen watched, holding his breath, as Hyoga calmly made his way to the front of the room.

“I’ll be honest,” Hyoga began in a low voice. “I still believe that humankind should be culled. That the foolish masses should remain petrified, and only the exceptional—those with strong traits—should pass on their genes. That is the path to true evolution. Survival of the fittest.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“What do you think, Moz-kun?”

Moz’s mouth curled into a grin. “Hmm. I agree.” He twirled his spear lazily, eyes flashing. “Your name’s Hyoga, right? That culling of yours sounds fun. We’re already doing something similar here. Only the prettiest female betas and omegas are chosen to serve. Keeps things beautiful. Efficient.”

He licked his teeth and glanced over Hyoga’s shoulder—right at Gen, who was pressed close between Senku and Kaseki.

“Though recently, I’ve discovered male omegas.” Moz’s grin widened. “Turns out, there’s something special about them too. That one, for example…” He nodded toward Gen. “Despite his flaws, I find myself… intrigued. I’d like to get to know him better. I bet there are more like him where you come from.”

Gen stiffened at the attention. A chill ran down his spine.

He shrank back instinctively, wrapping the black cloak tighter around himself as if it could shield him from Moz’s eyes.

He didn’t understand the alpha’s obsession. What was it about him that drew this unwanted fixation? Why him?

The omega didn’t like how Moz’s eyes lingered on him—predatory and calculating—like he was something attainable despite already being claimed. Still within reach.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Gen muttered under his breath, squirming beneath Moz’s gaze. His stomach turned. He brought a hand to it, hoping to settle the unease swirling inside.

Senku immediately stepped in front of him, shielding his mate’s frame entirely with his own. His expression was unreadable as he stared Moz down. “Don’t interact with him,” he said calmly. “He’s just waiting for a reaction.”

But Gen didn’t realize Moz wasn’t just provoking him—he was assessing. Measuring. Testing a suspicion he’d hesitated to act on back in the cave.

Senku understood the warrior alpha’s intentions. He wasn’t naive. He could see it in Moz’s posture, in the way he looked at Gen. Still, knowing didn’t make it any easier to stomach.

From his place in the room, Hyoga observed the entire exchange in silence, sharp eyes flicking between Moz and Gen. Not a single twitch went unnoticed. He wasn’t just watching—he was calculating, cataloging.

Moz’s interest was blatant. He didn’t care that Gen was claimed. He didn’t care that Senku stood protectively in front of him. In fact, that seemed to make it all the more appealing.

Gen smelled just a bit sweeter beneath Senku’s scent since the last time Hyoga had seen him.

That alone confirmed it: time had passed, and the omega was further along in his pregnancy.

The scent was faint—masked under adrenaline, fear, and the overwhelming veil of Senku’s possessive pheromones—but to a seasoned alpha like Hyoga, the shift in body chemistry was undeniable. The signs were there, subtle but precise.

If he could smell it, then Moz could too.

And that made the situation far more dangerous.

Still, what baffled Hyoga most wasn’t Moz’s interest—it was the sheer obliviousness of everyone else.

The supposedly smartest man in the world had no clue. Nor did the omega carrying life inside him.

Even more shocking, none of the others—Ryusui, Kinro, Nikki—had said a word. All three were alphas. They should’ve noticed something by now. The scent, the fatigue, even the beginnings of a physical change.

Betas could be forgiven. Their sense of smell was duller, and they often noticed with their eyes first—when the swell of the belly was too prominent to ignore.

But omegas?

Omegas would know.

Maternal instincts would kick in before logic. They’d tend, protect, hover. They’d feel the shift in another omega’s body and soul as if it were their own.

So far, Hyoga wasn’t sure who else had noticed beyond himself, Moz, and—by nature of proximity—Homura. But the fact that no one had spoken up?

He found it… disappointing.

Almost embarrassingly so.

But Hyoga would play along—for now.

He was curious, after all. Curious to see just how long it would take before the so-called genius and his oblivious little omega realized they were expecting.

Senku and Gen’s child… Now that would be quite the sight.

Senku’s ruthless intellect combined with Gen’s silver tongue, manipulation, and intuition? The child was destined for greatness. In Hyoga’s eyes, it would be nothing short of a superior specimen. A shining product of the strong prevailing.

His gaze slid lazily toward Gen, brow lifting in silent amusement. It was a look that said: Really? This is the kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into?

Gen met his eyes, teeth clenched, clearly frustrated but saying nothing.

Hyoga sighed—loudly, purposefully—as he turned his head toward Senku. The look he gave the alpha was unimpressed, sharp, and slightly condescending.

Senku frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, arms crossing in a motion that spoke of tired tolerance.

“You’ve got a childish mindset, Moz,” Ryusui cut in, flicking his fingers with his usual dramatic flair. “Only female betas and omegas? Don’t make me laugh. Every man and woman is beautiful, regardless of secondary gender!”

Moz’s gaze flicked lazily toward Nikki, who met his stare without flinching.

“All women, huh…” he muttered, tone unreadable.

Hyoga’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So, Moz-kun. That means your idea of ‘superior humans’ is limited to those who meet your definition of beauty—regardless of actual strength or merit?”

Moz gave a low chuckle. “Isn’t that natural?”

“I see…” Hyoga adjusted his grip on the spear. Calm, calculating. “It doesn’t matter what side I choose, then. My decision was made long before we even started this conversation.”

In an instant, Hyoga lunged forward, spear flashing as he unleashed a barrage of calculated strikes.

Moz’s grin widened, his eyes narrowing with excitement—but the smirk faded just as quickly when he felt himself being pushed back. The sudden pressure, the speed—Hyoga had clearly caught him off guard. For a split second, Moz looked genuinely shocked before he snarled, baring his teeth and shifting to parry the onslaught.

“Hyoga’ll fight better if we’re not in the way!” Senku called, already moving.

He motioned toward the open door and Chrome yelped, bolting out first, followed by Kaseki and Nikki.

Ryusui quickly adjusted Kinro over his back and sprinted after them. Senku grabbed Gen’s hand and tugged him along as they slipped through the doorway together.

Outside, chaos was already brewing.

Chrome dodged clumsily as a warrior lunged at him, the beta squeaking as he weaved out of the way. Nikki responded by throwing a solid punch into the jaw of another enemy, sending them sprawling. She hit another square in the gut, knocking the wind out of them.

“Go! Go! Go!” she barked, waving them toward the stairs.

“Oho~” Kaseki rumbled, accidentally stepping on a warrior trying to rise. The man let out a choked wheeze before collapsing again.

“Sorry!” Kaseki offered quickly, continuing up the stairs.

“Ah—! You little brat!” a warrior growled, locking on to Chrome. He charged at the beta, fists raised.

Chrome blinked, then grinned wickedly. “Heh… you asked for it.”

With practiced ease, he drew his leg back and landed a swift, merciless kick between the man’s legs.

“Take that! I’ve been honing that special move for years! It’s kinda my specialty now—Chrome’s Super Mega Kick!”

The warrior crumpled with a squeal, clutching himself and collapsing onto the floor.

Senku burst out laughing. “Nice one, Dr. Chrome!”

“Hehe~” Chrome rubbed his nose proudly.

“Impressive, Chrome,” Ryusui added with a smirk as he waited at the base of the stairs. Kinro simply grunted in response on the golden haired alpha’s back.

Ryusui stepped aside as Nikki stormed past, eyes rolling.

“Men,” she muttered with exasperation, taking the lead up the stairs.

“Alright, let’s keep it moving!” Gen’s voice called from the rear, sharp and urgent. “There’s a battle behind us and no telling what’s waiting up top!”

“Oh shit, you’re right!” Chrome gasped.

“We have to make it back to the island—there’s something I need to make to secure our win,” Senku said as he climbed. He felt Chrome push at his back to hurry him up. Senku’s grip on Gen’s hand slipped. “Hey—wait!”

Senku twisted around, trying to reach for his mate again, but Ryusui—carrying Kinro—blocked the way.

“Sorry, Gen. I can try to shift a little and let you pass—” Ryusui adjusted Kinro’s weight, attempting to sidestep in the cramped space.

Gen shook his head and gave a light push against Kinro’s back, which in turn nudged Ryusui forward. “It’s a tight squeeze. We’ll be topside soon anyway. The faster you all climb, the better.”

“Why the hell did we design the staircase this way?!” Senku complained ahead of them.

“Well, in your words,” Chrome mimicked him with a smirk, “something along the lines of: ‘Big staircases take up too much space. It’s better to be efficient—ten billion percent!’”

Senku groaned, sarcastic and bitter. “Ugh, good job, past me. Efficient as always…”

“In your defense,” Chrome added, chuckling, “you didn’t exactly see this coming.”

Then, teasing: “You really can’t stand being away from Gen for two seconds, huh, lover boy?”

“Don’t call me that!” Senku snapped.

“Bahaha! Isn’t it true, though?” Ryusui called back with a grin.

Gen exhaled an amused sigh, following behind them and listening fondly. Just as he opened his mouth to chime in, a blur of movement caught his eye.

He didn’t hesitate—quickly, he threw a handful of flower petals in a dramatic arc. “Sorcerers coming through~”

The startled warrior nearby yelped and collapsed from sheer surprise.

Gen snickered to himself and continued upward.

The sounds of Chrome’s teasing, Ryusui’s laughter, and Senku’s grumbling frustration followed him up the staircase, brightening the moment. Despite everything, Gen felt calm—at ease in the middle of chaos.

In an instant, something inside Gen shattered.

A cold wave of dread washed over him—his instincts buzzing like a live wire. Every cell in his body screamed at him:

Death was coming.

His fight or flight response slammed into overdrive. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as time seemed to stretch, slowing down just enough for every detail to sharpen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. Goosebumps raced across his arms.

And his lower back—cold. Exposed.

Gen turned his head on instinct—just in time to see Moz lunging.

The warrior alpha’s spear gleamed in the light, aimed straight for Gen’s abdomen.

The omega’s eyes went wide in sheer terror.

There was a crazed, singular focus in Moz’s eyes—a killing intent laced with something worse. He wasn’t just attacking Gen.

He was targeting what Moz knew lay beneath the surface.

Two lives not yet known. Not even by Gen himself.

Gen’s footing slipped on the wooden steps, his body crashing hard onto his right side. He curled in on himself without thinking, arms wrapping over his stomach. His lips parted—ready to scream, to cry, to beg for help.

But before a sound could leave his throat—

CRACK—!

A blur of white and gold intercepted.

Hyoga.

With bone-jarring force, the alpha slammed into Moz, knocking him hard against the railing. The sound of impact rang out. Moz let out a guttural groan, his body denting the wooden beams.

He snarled, feral, teeth bared. But Hyoga didn’t flinch.

“Seriously?” Hyoga’s voice was razor-sharp, cold fury bleeding through every word. “Aiming for a defenseless omega?”

He stepped in front of Gen, placing himself between the fallen omega and Moz’s spear. His spear spun in one hand, ready again.

“He’s not interested in you, and you resort to this?” Hyoga spat. “Striking at the most vulnerable part of his body?”

Gen trembled in his spot, watching as Hyoga towered over Moz like a shadow of judgment. The white-haired alpha flicked his gaze upward and gave a subtle nudge of his head—telling him to go.

Gen released a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away and scrambled up the remaining stairs, his legs unsteady beneath him.

Behind him, he heard Moz grunt, voice thick with contempt.

“It’s not like he even knows. I was going to let him keep it once he became mine. But now? Wouldn’t it be better if it’s gone?”

Gen’s heart skipped a beat. The words echoed in his mind—distorted, fragmented, but clear enough to haunt.

What don’t I know? Keep what? What is ‘it’?

He burst through the door and stumbled into the fresh air, panting hard. His hands dropped to his knees as he struggled to catch his breath, his thoughts spiraling.

Is he talking about my bond with Senku-chan?

His fingers curled into tight fists. He bit his lip hard enough to make it wobble, fighting off the panic. His body was still trembling—from fear, from adrenaline, from the sharp taste of death that had nearly swallowed him whole.

No.

No time for this.

He forced himself to stand upright again, pushing through the dizzying fog that swept over him like a tide. His legs moved on instinct toward the boarding ramp.

They were on a timer.

He couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

__________

Bonus+

September 17th, 5741 AD — sometime around evening

“So, want to talk about what happened yesterday with Moz, Gen?” Ukyo asked, his voice soft as he sat beside the omega. They both leaned against the rocky cave wall, watching as the group, now full from dinner, had split off to work on various tasks.

Gen looked peaceful, content from the meal, but at Ukyo’s question, he lifted his head and sighed. “I knew nothing could escape those ears of yours, Ukyo-chan…”

“That was the first time I’ve heard you say something so gory and violent,” Ukyo said, a frown creeping across his lips. “But rightfully so. Moz is a selfish asshole who only thinks with his knot.”

Gen let out a soft laugh and rested his head against Ukyo’s shoulder. “I honestly don’t know what came over me at that moment…” he murmured, reaching out to grab Ukyo’s hand and idly play with his fingers. “I genuinely wanted to rip his throat out the second he reached toward me.”

Ukyo stilled, then turned to glance at Gen. “I saw how he sniffed you, but I didn’t realize he tried to touch you too.” His voice dropped, colder now. “I’m starting to rethink the no-killing rule…”

Gen chuckled quietly at his friend’s protectiveness, one hand drifting to his own stomach as he lazily drew circles over it. “I think Senku-chan’s first in line. Did you see the way his eyes lit up when he talked about using the pistol to detain Moz-chan?”

Ukyo snorted. “Yeah. That’s also the first time I’ve seen him genuinely excited at the idea of hurting someone.”

Still, something gnawed at Ukyo. That whole interaction between Moz and Gen hadn’t sat right. The things Moz had said… about accepting every ‘part’ of Gen. There was a second meaning there, Ukyo was sure of it.

Better to keep a close eye on him. Just in case.

“You haven’t talked to Senku about any of it yet?” Ukyo asked carefully.

“Not yet,” Gen admitted, lifting his head from Ukyo’s shoulder and releasing his hand. “I feel like I’d just disrupt the mood. Senku-chan’s already under so much pressure… I don’t want to add more to his plate. Maybe once we’re sailing back home, when things settle down. But by then, Moz-chan will hopefully be a statue.”

Ukyo was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll keep quiet for now. But if something happens…” He picked up his bow from the ground and tested the string with a soft pull. “Just say the word. I’ll aim an arrow straight at Moz.”

Gen’s lips curled into a smile, warm and touched. “Ukyo-chan is trusty and dependable~ I’m so happy to know you’ve got my back.”

Ukyo chuckled and lowered the bow again. “We’re friends. That’s what friends do. I’ll always have your back, Gen. Just like I hope you’ll have mine.”

“Always, my dear Ukyo-chan.” Gen beamed at him, the soft laughter between them lightening the atmosphere. “Always.”

Chapter Text

September 19th, 5741 AD

The next few moments passed in a blur for Gen.

It felt like his body was moving on autopilot as he descended the boarding ramp and climbed into the boat beside his mate. Chrome voiced concerns about returning to the island—afraid they’d land right in the middle of a disaster if Ibara decided to petrify everything in sight.

Senku calmly explained his plan as they sailed, the low hum of his voice like a lifeline of logic.

But Gen wasn’t listening.

He hugged his knees to his chest, tuning in and out, the words flying through one ear and out the other. His brush with death had affected him more than he cared to admit.

When Magma stabbed him in the chest back then, Gen had been prepared. He’d made blood bags before—back when Tsukasa sent him to confirm Senku’s death. The bags had softened the blow, muffled the impact of Magma’s punches, and stopped the spear from fully impaling him. Combined with his rare condition—Situs Inversus, where his heart sat on the opposite side of his body—Gen had been lucky to walk away from that encounter alive.

This time, though…

He hadn’t been prepared.

He truly hadn’t expected to die. But Moz’s killing intent had been unmistakable, radiating off him in waves. And the way he’d aimed for Gen’s abdomen—not just trying to harm, but eradicate something—it chilled Gen to his core.

Even now, the goosebumps on his arms hadn’t faded.

He’s afraid.

And worst of all were the words Moz had whispered.

Cruel. Ominous. Confusing.

Why couldn’t he get them out of his head?

Why did they keep circling, looping in his mind like a broken record?

He was going to let me keep it… once I became his? But now… won’t it be better if it’s gone?

What is “it”?

What was Moz planning to take?

Gen wrapped his arms tighter around his legs, his chin tucked against his knees. A strange pressure lingered low in his stomach—not pain exactly, but a persistent tension. It had never really left since the attack. In fact, it was growing.

A gnawing, twisting feeling.

One he couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore either.

Gen’s omega instincts were rattled—torn between confusion and survival.

He didn’t know whether to run or collapse, to protect or cling, to bury himself in Senku’s arms and hide away from the world. His body trembled faintly, his heart still beating too fast. There was no mistaking it: Gen was in distress.

He felt the boat thud softly as it hit the shoreline. They had arrived.

“Alright, everyone off!” Ryusui’s voice rang out.

Gen barely processed it before he felt a hand take his own—firm, steady, warm.

Senku.

Without a word, his mate tugged him up and out of the boat. Gen stumbled slightly as his boots touched the sand, but he let himself be led, fingers tightening around Senku’s.

He looked up.

Senku’s crimson eyes were on him, filled with visible concern. His lips moved—likely asking something important—but Gen couldn’t make out the words. The sound was muffled, distant, like he was underwater.

All he could do was nod and keep going, clinging to the only thing keeping him grounded.

Senku.

He focused on the familiar shape of Senku’s head ahead of him, the bounce of his wild hair as they ran across the beach toward the others. The scenery blurred around them. Everything else was noise.

Then—

Pain flared sharply at his right side.

Gen winced, his breath hitching. The bruising from his fall on the stairs was still fresh, and all this sudden movement only made it worse. He pressed his free hand to the spot instinctively.

Everything was hitting him at once. His instincts. The pain. The confusion. The not knowing.

But he kept moving—because Senku was pulling him forward.

Because if he stopped now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep going.

Gen pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyebrows drawing together as he struggled to swallow the growing lump in his throat. His eyes remained fixed on the back of Senku’s head, as if watching it would keep him anchored.

They ran deeper into the island, weaving through familiar trees until the terrain gave way to thick bamboo groves.

Of course. Gen blinked slowly, realization settling in. He knew why they were here.

Still holding Senku’s hand, Gen gently loosened his grip and pulled away.

Senku didn’t protest.

The sound of bamboo being chopped filled the air, rhythmic and purposeful. Gen took a breath and gave his head a small shake, willing himself to snap out of the haze. When Senku caught a length of bamboo mid-fall and turned to show it to him, Gen’s lips curved upward automatically.

His voice came next—smooth, bright, charming.

The mask slid effortlessly into place.

He chatted like nothing was wrong, like he hadn’t been nearly killed, like he hadn’t spent the last couple of minuets unraveling inside his own head. He laughed along with Ryusui. Teased Kinro. Acted completely fine.

When Senku handed him a cut of bamboo, Gen accepted it without hesitation. His hands moved, his mouth spoke, and his brain kept up the illusion—because that’s what Asagiri Gen did best.

Then he finally noticed.

Magma.

The alpha was standing nearby, sweaty and disheveled but very much present. Gen hadn’t even realized he had made it onto the boat and traveled here with them. His mind had been too consumed earlier. But he didn’t let that slip—not in front of Senku.

Instead, with his best showbiz smile, Gen turned to the brutish alpha.

“Magma-chan, be a dear and toss that for me, would you?”

Magma, always eager to show off, grinned and wound up like a seasoned pitcher before launching the bamboo into the air with all the flair of a professional athlete.

It spun, whistling through the sky—until it landed cleanly, perfectly, onto the point of Hyoga’s spear.

The final piece. Kudayari was complete.

They didn’t stay to watch the fight—Taiju’s urgent voice cut through the noise.

“That Oarashi guy has the Medusa!!!”

Before anyone could fully process it, a blur shot past the group. Nikki, Kinro, and Magma reacted instantly, leaping into action and chasing after the massive alpha.

They managed to knock him down briefly, but Oarashi’s brute strength was too much. With a powerful twist, he shook them off like ragdolls and kept sprinting.

Gen didn’t hesitate—he joined the others, legs pumping, lungs burning.

But his balance faltered.

“Ah—!” Gen yelped as he stumbled mid-step, the ground rushing up toward him—until a hand shot out and grabbed the back of his overcoat and pulled him upright just in time.

“You okay, Gen? You look like you’re about to pass out…” Ryusui asked, his voice edged with concern.

“Eally-ray?” Gen panted, trying to catch his breath. “What makes you think that, Ryusui-chan?”

“You’re pale,” Ryusui replied, frowning as he slowed his pace slightly. “You’ve been that way since you got on the boat.”

“Oh…” Gen chuckled weakly. “I’m fine, really. More importantly, we need to stop that Oarashi-chan guy—unless we want to be petrified.”

He gave Ryusui a quick, reassuring smile. “Don’t let me slow you down, Ryusui-chan.”

The golden-haired alpha shot him a look—one of those rare, contemplative ones Gen didn’t like too much—and then nodded, taking off again. Chrome sped past Gen next, catching up to Ryusui in a blur.

Chrome-chan has a plan.

Then he saw it.

That familiar green light—shimmering in the sky above, beautiful and deadly. It began to spread, wide and fast, consuming everything in its path.

“The length of the mobile lab—that’s a pretty easy estimate!” Ryusui called out. “Everyone, put as much distance between you and the person in front of you!”

Chrome came to a stop and held out one arm straight in front of him, the other raised high above his head.

“Reach out toward the light, and when your fingertips start to turn into stone, send up a signal with your other hand!” he instructed.

Ryusui positioned himself behind Chrome. Gen finally came to a stop, panting as he watched Ryusui follow the instructions. The golden-haired alpha stood tall, both arms out like Chrome’s.

“As each of our hands go up in order, Senku’ll track them and do some precise calculations,” Chrome explained as the green light caught up with him. “That way he can figure out when the beam will hit him—”

Before he could finish, the petrification light reached him, freezing him mid-sentence.

Everything was happening so fast.

Gen didn’t have time to think. He quickly mirrored their poses—his arm outstretched in front, the other raised overhead.

He watched as Ryusui was enveloped by the green glow.

It was his turn next.

The omega stared as his fingertips began to turn to stone. He exhaled slowly at the familiar sensation. It had been so long since he was last petrified, yet the sensation remained unchanged.

The creeping numbness traveled steadily up his arm.

Gen felt a pang of guilt. He was leaving everything to Senku again. He regretted not speaking up sooner, letting himself get too caught in his own head. And now, here they were—being turned to stone.

But Gen trusted him. If there was anyone who could fix this, it was Senku.

He wasn’t afraid.

As his vision started to fade, Gen made sure to splay the fingers of his right hand wide—the last part of him he could still move. A clear signal for the next person to react.

Then, just like that, everything stopped. His thoughts, his breath, his senses—swallowed by darkness.

You can do it, Senku-chan. I believe in you.

_________

The sun blazed high in the sky, casting harsh rays through the forest canopy. Birds chirped overhead while insects buzzed in the heat. Occasionally, a breeze stirred the trees, rustling the leaves gently.

So quiet. So peaceful.

Ibara walked with an eerie kind of glee, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he made his way through the forest. All he had to do now was locate the statue of that foolish Oarashi and destroy it. Once he retrieved the petrification device from the wreckage, everything would fall into place.

After that, he would search for the statues of the so-called sorcerers. One of them was bound to have some of the miraculous revival fluid. He’d use it to revive a few of his own loyal warriors—then perhaps one of the sorcerers themselves.

With force, of course.

He would make them create more of the fluid. And if they refused… well, there were always methods of persuasion. Pain was a universal language.

Ibara’s pace slowed as a strange sight appeared before him.

There, lined up neatly in the clearing, were the sorcerers.

Each one frozen mid-pose—arms stretched, one hand lifted high. All exactly the same. The beam had caught them mid-action, like statues in a grotesque performance.

He moved among them with quiet satisfaction, inspecting each one with a critical eye.

The blonde alpha and the brown-haired one—nothing. Just their clothes. No sign of any bottles.

The female alpha had a more impressive chest, but her heavily muscled body didn’t appeal to him. He passed her with only a glance.

The older beta barely earned his notice at all.

Then he came across the one with bi-colored hair.

He hadn’t figured out what the boy was yet, but he definitely looked like he was hiding something under all those layers. So Ibara approached him. The scent of the alpha with the strange hair clung to him like a second skin, and Ibara curled his lip in disgust.

The soft smile on the man’s face, the fullness of his cheeks, his delicate fingers—something about him drew Ibara’s attention. He peeled open the man’s purple overcoat and started rifling through the many pockets: flowers, a strange white material that looked like fabric, rope, an empty small bag. He moved on to the other side and pulled out a small box, a tiny knife—nothing else. The rest of the pockets were empty.

Ibara dropped the useless trash onto the ground, keeping only what seemed remotely valuable.

Up close, there was something beneath the other alpha’s scent—faint, but familiar. Curious, Ibara leaned in and took a long, slow whiff.

Sweet.

Ibara recoiled, eyes narrowing. At once, he untied the string around the bi-colored-haired male’s midsection and let the obi fall. He grabbed the soft, wheat-colored yukata, lifted it to his nose, and inhaled deeply.

There was no mistaking it. He had lived around omegas all his life.

That scent—so unmistakably sweet.

Ibara dropped the fabric and leaned back with a delighted grin. “A male omega! How wonderful.”

It had been so long since this island had seen a male omega. Ibara truly felt the gods were on his side.

A pregnant omega, at that.

He spread his arms wide and spun in a slow circle, basking in his discovery. No wonder he hadn’t smelled it before—their so-called leader’s scent was masking the omega’s own.

Ah. They must be mates. Bonded.

He stopped spinning and turned back toward the statue in front of him. Grabbing the collar, Ibara scrunched it to the side and uncovered another layer. With his stone claws, he sliced through the strings and loosened the fabric. There—on the omega’s neck, a mating mark.

So it’s true. Their leader and this omega are mates. How very useful.

With the tip of his claw, Ibara traced the edge of the mark. Such a shame. A pretty face like this, wasted on a useless alpha. But it’s fine—he had ways to fix that. He could find this omega’s mate’s statue, destroy it into dust… No—perhaps it would be better to revive him. Use the omega as leverage. Force him to produce the miracle revival fluid. And when he no longer needed him? Kill him. Then revive the omega, permanently severing the bond.

And the pregnancy.

Ibara let out a low chuckle and patted the omega’s stone cheek before leaning in to lick the same spot. “Don’t worry, little omega. You’ll be mine soon enough.”

With that, he continued walking, fiddling with the box he’d taken. When he reached the alpha with the fancy hat, he stopped. This one had a mating mark too—he’d seen it when they brought his statue to the palace. His mate had to be nearby.

Ibara swiped the hat from the alpha’s head and let it fall to the floor.

He passed the beta without a second glance.

Eventually, he reached the middle of the island. A female omega ran away in the distance. Nearby stood a pup with a watermelon mask and a male archer. Another omega. Ibara’s eyes lit up. He pulled back the archer’s yellow collar and saw it: a mating mark.

Found you.

Another male omega in one day—his luck was truly something.

He plucked the archer’s hat and tossed it into the forest. This one was still pure. No pregnancy. Breaking this bond would be much easier.

Ibara placed a hand on the stone omega’s head and caressed it, admiring the stillness. Just like the other one, this omega was beautiful.

Just as he was about to lick the omega’s statue, something caught Ibara’s eye. He paused, turning his attention toward Oarashi. In his palm, the tiny box he’d taken from the omega loosened slightly. Curious, Ibara looked down and opened it fully, revealing a stack of small, strange cards.

He slid them out, examining the odd symbols and drawings with a disinterested hum. With a scoff, he tossed the entire deck into the air, watching the cards scatter like dust in the wind. Useless trinkets.

Then he saw them—footprints.

They led up to Oarashi, where two alphas had been. One of them…

Ibara narrowed his eyes.

That face—it was familiar.

His lips curled back into a snarl when recognition hit. Soyuz. The Master’s only son had returned after twenty years. How pitiful.

Without hesitation, Ibara grabbed a small boulder and smashed it against Oarashi’s stone torso. The impact cracked the surface, and he retrieved the petrification device embedded within.

He weighed it in his hand, and a twisted curiosity sparked in his mind.

What would happen if I did the same to the pregnant omega’s statue?

If it shattered—would the pup be revealed?

Would it be born in stone?

The thought was sickening. And exhilarating.

But he shelved the idea, for now.

His attention returned to the tracks. They must belong to one of the sorcerers—but who?

His gaze swept over the scattered statues, mind racing.

_______

“Gen…” Senku cupped the omega’s stone cheek lovingly, his gaze locked on the soft, smiling expression frozen on his face. It was unsettling—staring at the statue of his mate, unmoving, unresponsive, devoid of life.

Senku felt restless. The urge to use the revival fluid surged within him, but he knew he had to wait. It was still too dangerous—too risky, especially if Ibara was still nearby.

Gen was safer like this. As a statue, he couldn’t be hurt. Not yet.

“I’ll be back soon, so sit tight and wait for me here, Mentalist.”

Senku pressed his forehead gently against Gen’s, a quiet breath escaping him. He knew it was silly—Gen couldn’t hear him, couldn’t respond—but he couldn’t help saying the words aloud.

Pulling back, Senku turned and made his way to where Oarashi, Taiju, and Soyuz were waiting. He had to retrieve the petrification device before Ibara.

After seeing Ibara’s momentarily shocked expression, Senku triggered the trap he’d laid out—slamming into him with the mobile lab. It wasn’t exactly self-driving… but it got the job done. The crunch of impact was satisfying, but Senku didn’t linger. He immediately lunged forward to grab the Medusa from where it had fallen.

He scanned the area—no sign of Ibara. But the old alpha was close.

“Three meters, three sec—”

A sudden flare of pain shot through Senku’s upper arm. Ibara had reemerged, stabbing him with the sharp stone claws strapped to his hand. The Medusa slipped from Senku’s grasp.

The old alpha pulled back, revealing three deep puncture wounds in Senku’s arm, then delivered a brutal kick to his abdomen, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Senku landed hard, clutching his bleeding arm, glaring up at Ibara as the alpha arrogantly boasted about wearing armor beneath his clothes. But Senku didn’t stick around to hear the rest—he was already on his feet and running.

He tore through the forest, branches whipping past. Ibara couldn’t toss the Medusa freely here—not with the dense canopy overhead.

Senku needed to revive someone who could help him recover the petrification device—but that wouldn’t be easy. Ibara could just re-petrify them instantly.

No. He needed Ryusui. Only Ryusui could control the drone. If Ibara threw the Medusa, the two of them could pull on the cord—turning it into a tug-of-war.

So Senku acted. He hurled two bottles of sulfuric acid as decoys, then launched the revival fluid high into the air, its trajectory arcing toward where Ryusui’s statue stood.

If Ibara took the bait and discarded the acid bottles, the revival fluid would land on Ryusui—reviving their best chance.

Senku didn’t stop to check. He kept running—toward the cliffs of the Howling Sea. That’s where this final showdown would take place.

“Before we end this, I want to know the name of the alpha who’ll be defeated by me,” Ibara said, gripping the Medusa tightly in his hand.

Senku stood his ground, already calculating the distance between them.

“Five meters, five seconds,” Ibara said to the petrification device.

“The name’s Ishigami Senku,” Senku replied with a smirk as he spoke into the microphone.

“Well then, Senku…” Ibara grinned, expression unsettling. “The next time we meet, you’ll truly wonder if you’ve gone to hell!” He threw the Medusa into the air, still holding the rope tied to it.

The familiar buzzing of a drone cut through the air.

“What kind of bird is that?!” Ibara shouted as Ryusui’s drone flew straight into the path of the Medusa and tangled with it.

Senku smiled in satisfaction. “Finally, our midair battle begins.”

“Ha-ha! I desire everything the world has to offer—including the petrification device!” Ryusui grinned. “The Medusa is mine!”

“Let’s pull!” Senku ordered.

The two alphas gripped the cord, yanking it with all their strength to reel it in. But Ibara reacted quickly, throwing his sash around the tangled drone and Medusa and began pulling it back toward himself.

Four, three…

“It may be two against one,” Ibara snarled, his voice rising with pride, “but I won’t lose to a pair of ignorant young alphas—especially with my background as a warrior!”

“How ironic that it’s you two who stand in my way…”

Two, one…

Senku gritted his teeth and focused. “Let go—now!”

Ryusui obeyed immediately, and the two watched as Ibara staggered back in surprise. The Medusa flung back toward him, the familiar green hue beginning to widen in the air.

“When it comes to counting, I’m never off,” Senku panted, sweat clinging to his brow.

Without missing a beat, Ibara reacted. He tore off his headpiece and flung it toward the incoming device, halting it midair just as it began to glow brightly with green light.

“Fools! I’m overly cautious!” he shouted, voice sharp with arrogance. “You think I wouldn’t practice countering the device? I’m never off. My calculations are always correct!”

He threw them a mocking look, lips curling into a grin.

“After I petrify you both, I’ll thoroughly enjoy both of your omegas—”

In an instant, Ryusui lunged forward.

The sudden movement caught Ibara off guard, but it was already too late. The golden-haired alpha crossed the glow of the activated Medusa—and was instantly turned to stone. His statue hit the ground and shattered into pieces right in front of Ibara.

“Aren’t you a bright one?” Ibara cackled. “Did you really charge blindly after a taunt?”

He tugged the Medusa back as the light faded. “How did someone like you even manage to get a mate with that brain of yours?”

Senku’s brow twitched, fury simmering beneath his calm expression.

“ ‘Both of our omegas’…?” he repeated under his breath.

“The sole victor will be me!” Ibara declared, raising the Medusa high with pride. “I’ll rebuild the world in my image. This time, I’ll rule freely. And I’ll be generous enough to take those two male omegas from your hands while I’m at it.”

Senku’s crimson eyes narrowed into slits at the threat. His mind raced at the thought of that filthy old alpha laying a hand on his mate—on his friend’s mate. He knew Ryusui would’ve reacted the same way if their roles were reversed.

How the hell did this bastard know? How did he discover that both Gen and Ukyo are omegas—what the fuck did he do?

Senku rose slowly, anger bubbling inside him, a low growl beginning to form in his throat.

“Ibara…” Senku raised the microphone to his lips. “Did you put your filthy hands on Gen and Ukyo?”

“Gen? Ukyo? Which one’s yours, little alpha? Let’s see…” Ibara tapped his chin mockingly, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Soft smile, strange hair, pretty face… wears purple—”

Senku’s expression darkened with every word, fury boiling beneath his skin.

“I know he’s yours. I smelled you on him. I saw the mark. Quite impressive—”

Ibara snickered, clearly enjoying himself.

Just say the words, Senku. No—kill him.

Senku bared his teeth, growling low. His grip on the microphone tightened until his knuckles turned white. His crimson gaze was sharp, feral—barely human anymore.

Five meters.

“You two sure got busy. Clearly didn’t waste any time either,” Ibara sneered, head tilting. “I never expected to see a male omega… a pre—”

Ibara suddenly stopped, his eyes catching something. The earring. His expression dropped.

“What?!”

Kill him. Tear him limb from limb—just four words. Stop hesitating!

Senku battled himself—logic against instinct. One part of him demanded justice through science, to petrify Ibara, toss him into the depths of the ocean, and erase his legacy with cold precision. But the other, his alpha instincts, screamed to maim, to destroy, to make Ibara suffer in the most violent, sickening way possible.

He watched in slow motion as Ibara panicked. The older alpha fumbled with the Medusa in his hand, clearly preparing to throw it away in a final act of desperation.

Senku began approaching, slow and purposeful—like a predator closing in on his prey. He wasn’t built like Taiju, didn’t have endless stamina, but that didn’t matter. He’d enjoy the chase. He wanted Ibara to run. He wanted him to feel the terror of knowing exactly what would happen once he was caught. The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine.

It was primal. Animalistic.

Senku wanted to see the fear in Ibara’s eyes the moment it all ended.

One second, Senku!

That voice snapped him out of the daze.

“Five meters. One second!” Senku shouted without hesitation.

“Argh—noooo!” Ibara screamed, just as the green light exploded around him.

His shout was cut off mid-sentence.

Frozen. Arm drawn back, ready to throw the Medusa—petrified.

Senku hooked the microphone back into place. He glanced at Ryusui’s statue for a few seconds, silently promising to bring him back soon. But right now, he needed to get to Gen.

Without hesitation, Senku yanked the Medusa from Ibara’s hand—roughly, without care if he broke the old man’s arm in the process.

He shoved the petrification device into one of the pouches on his waist belt and took off running in the direction where he’d left Gen. He ignored the weight of the phone box on his back, ignored the sharp, throbbing pain in his bleeding arm—he just had to see his mate with his own eyes. His heart pounded against his ribs, breath coming hard and fast as the world around him blurred.

Statues began to appear—his friends. He rushed past Magma, Kinro, and Nikki. He barely registered Kaseki before his feet finally stopped.

There.

Still standing in the same spot… but—

Senku’s jaw clenched. Scattered at Gen’s feet were the familiar items he always kept tucked in the inner pockets of his overcoat. The obi and cord lay discarded on the ground.

Senku let out a shaky breath and scrambled closer.

Gen’s high-collared shirt was cut open at the strings. His cloak, yukata, and the purple overcoat were bunched to one side, exposing the mark at his nape.

Senku’s anger spiked as the unmistakable scent of Ibara clung to his mate.

He moved quickly, smoothing out Gen’s clothing with trembling hands and spreading his own scent over the fabric to cover up what he could. Pressing close, Senku hugged the statue. At this proximity, he could smell it—faint, but there—on Gen’s cheek.

His eyebrows drew together. His hands shook with restrained fury.

That filthy scent had to be removed.

He needed water. Fabric. Something.

Senku stepped back and rushed over to Chrome’s statue. He knew Chrome carried water. Pulling the bamboo container from his friend’s belt, Senku hurried back and undid one of his own arm straps. Pouring water over it, he began wiping Gen’s cheek until Ibara’s scent was gone.

Senku held his breath as he wiped Gen’s cheek, his movements gentle despite the trembling in his fingers. He poured more water on the cloth and scrubbed at the base of Gen’s neck, right where the bond mark was. The moment he caught even a faint whiff of that alpha’s scent again, his lip curled, and he wiped harder, as if he could erase what had already happened.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered under his breath. “I should’ve come sooner…”

He kept cleaning, even when the scent was already gone—he couldn’t stop. Not until he could breathe without the burn of fury clogging his lungs. Not until Gen looked like his again. Untouched. Safe.

Finally, after a few more passes, Senku dropped the cloth and leaned his forehead against Gen’s. His mate’s stone skin was cool, unmoving… but the expression on Gen’s face remained peaceful, like he’d been smiling before the beam hit him.

Senku stared at that smile and felt something crack inside his chest. “It’s over now. I got it, Gen. The Medusa’s ours.”

He pulled Gen’s high-collared shirt back into place and adjusted his yukata, overcoat, and cloak with careful hands. Then he picked up the obi and the cord, tying them back where they belonged. Lastly, he gathered Gen’s scattered belongings from the ground, gently tucking each item back into his pockets—like restoring a part of him.

Senku noticed right away that the deck of cards he had given Gen for the omega’s birthday was missing. It had been tucked into his inner pocket—something Gen always kept with him. The moment Senku realized it was gone, he knew.

Ibara had taken it.

The thought made his chest burn hotter than before, rage flickering just beneath the surface.

He’d find it.

And if he couldn’t… he’d make a new one. Dozens of them. As many as Gen wanted.

The sun had already begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in fading golds and purples. Time was running thin. He had only one bottle of revival fluid left.

“Sorry, Gen,” Senku muttered as he stood. “You’re just going to have to wait a little longer… I know you’ll understand this better than anyone else.”

He looked down at Gen one last time, his hand brushing lightly against the omega’s stone fingers. Then he turned, bottle in hand, and made his way to Chrome.

With the science duo reunited, they’d make more revival fluid.

They’d bring everyone back.

And then… Gen.

Senku knew he couldn’t tell Gen what exactly happened—Not yet, at least. He didn’t know how his mate would react. For now, he’d keep it to himself.

_______

September 21th, 5741 AD

When Gen opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a vast, cloudless blue sky. Odd… the last thing he remembered was Ryusui’s back.

He blinked, letting his eyes adjust—only for Senku’s face to appear above him, framed by sunlight, worry etched into every line.

“Senku-chan?” Gen mumbled. Then, in a rush, he threw his arms around him. “Senku-chan! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

His gaze darted over the alpha’s face, scanning for injuries, then started to drop lower—only for Senku’s hands to cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss.

Gen melted instantly, letting out a pleased hum before they broke apart. That was when he realized he was sitting in Senku’s lap.

Senku chuckled. “I’m fine. Good to see you’re so full of energy, Mentalist. We’ll need it to rebuild the ship.”

Gen’s lips parted. “Eally-ray? You’re putting me to work right away?”

“Yup. We need all hands on deck.” Senku grinned.

Gen sighed, but his eyes stayed fixed on him. The worry in Senku’s gaze hadn’t faded, and his left arm… there was something off about the way he was holding it. Gen zeroed in.

“Your arm…” he murmured, gently taking Senku’s elbow.

Senku winced—whether from pain or being caught, Gen wasn’t sure. “It’s just a scratch. It’ll heal in a couple days.”

Gen’s brows rose. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He tugged up the sleeve, revealing a bandaged upper arm—and his eyes widened. “This isn’t a scratch, Senku-chan.”

“This is nothing for you to worry about—”

“Master Senku has three puncture wounds,” Francois’s calm voice interrupted as they stepped forward. “Thankfully, they’re shallow enough to heal within a week or two.”

“Francois-chan! I’m so glad to see you!” Gen smiled briefly at the blonde beta before turning back to his mate, his tone firm. “Senku-chan, I don’t care if it’s a scratch or not—I’ll still worry. I’m your mate. You got hurt. You’re so stubborn about injuries… and when you get sick—” He broke off with a long sigh, his shoulders easing. “I’m just… relieved you’re okay. I knew you could do it. Thank you for saving us.”

“You can be pretty stubborn too, Gen…” Senku murmured, pulling him close with his right arm. His fingers threaded through Gen’s hair as the alpha let out a relieved sigh. “I’m just glad to have you in my arms again… Oh—and I got the Medusa. A score for the Kingdom of Science.”

He pulled back with a mischievous grin.

Gen laughed, cupping his face and pressing quick, fluttering kisses along his cheek. “Oh! My hero! You shall be rewarded for your hard work!” One last kiss landed on Senku’s lips before he pulled back with a playful sparkle in his eyes. “I hope kisses will suffice, Hero-chan~”

Senku snickered. “For now… but I’ll ask for something more later.”

Gen gasped, a hand flying to his mouth. “How scandalous! I still recall you promised to reward me in the past.”

“That’s right. So how about we just combine both of our rewards into something even better—” Senku leaned in.

“STOP!” Chrome’s voice rang out. “That’s enough! You two waste no time flirting—there are people around!”

Blinking, Gen finally glanced around and realized they were on the deck of the Perseus. Crew members bustled about with planks and tools, repairing the damage.

A squeak escaped him and he covered his face, ears burning. He’d been so caught up in Senku that the rest of the world had completely vanished.

“Hey, I was enjoying the show, Chrome,” Ryusui complained.

“It’s so beautiful!” Taiju shouted, tears streaming down his face. “I love them so much!”

“Taiju…” Yuzuriha laughed at her mate’s dramatics. “I have to agree, though. That reunion was too cute!”

“And people say Ryusui and I are worse…” Ukyo chuckled.

“You are,” everyone nearby replied in unison.

“Ha! You’re all just jealous you don’t have a love like ours! You’ll never find anyone like my Ukyo—I’ve truly been blessed.” Ryusui slung an arm around Ukyo’s waist and pulled him close.

Ukyo rubbed his forehead in embarrassment. “Ryusui…”

“Aah!” Amaryllis squealed with delight. “You guys are so cute! Ryusui and Ukyo too! Taiju and Yuzuriha!”

Gen shifted, making a motion to stand. Senku caught on, and they rose together. That was when Gen noticed something—his right side wasn’t hurting anymore. In fact… there was no pain at all. His exhaustion had vanished, replaced by a strange, light energy.

The wonders of being petrified.

Looks like any injuries he’d had were completely healed.

“The pain’s gone…” Gen murmured, rubbing his side with a faint smile.

“Your petrification marks are gone too,” Chrome pointed out.

Gen’s hand flew to his cheek, fingertips brushing smooth skin where the familiar jagged line used to be. “Oh.”

“What pain? You got hurt? How did you get hurt? Did someone hurt you?” Senku’s questions came rapid-fire, his voice hardening on the last one. “Was it Magma?”

“Well—” Gen began, but Ryusui cut in.

“He looked pale when he ran out of the staircase. Did any of you notice?” The golden-haired alpha asked.

“He did seem a little sicker than usual when we were in the bamboo forest,” Chrome added.

“And he was quiet on the boat ride back to the island,” Nikki chimed in as she passed, balancing a wooden plank on her shoulder.

“Master Gen, are you feeling all right? Any strain on your body?” Francois stepped in swiftly, concern clear in their eyes. The pregnancy made any sign of discomfort alarming.

“I’ve noticed that too…” Senku muttered, his sharp gaze locking on Gen. “What happened in the short time we were apart?”

Gen glanced around, unease prickling under the weight of their stares—his mate’s concern, his friends’ worry. “I’m okay! Thanks to the petrification, I’m healed. Any pain is gone.”

“Gen.” Senku’s voice cut through the air, low and unyielding—a tone that brooked no argument.

“Fine,” Gen huffed, “as you all guessed, I caught Magma-chan sneaking off with Yo’s pistol. He hit me on the head—hard, by the way, so rude—and then threatened to knock me out and leave my poor unconscious body in the forest for anyone to find. A blow to the head can be fatal! I’m lucky my skull could handle it!”

He rubbed the top of his head, then threw his arms in the air and began pacing.

“He jumped off a cliff, so azy-cray. I… sort of went after him, but he cushioned my landing. And then the sailboat—ugh! He’s errrible-tay with the pistol. Held me there against my will. I wanted to jump overboard and swim to shore, but nooo! Magma-chan pinned me with his foot and declared I should be one of his lackeys. Do I look like a lackey? No! That man tried to kill me before—what makes him think I’d be loyal? I don’t want to be alone with him ever again!”

By the time he finished his rant, Gen was panting, but looking oddly satisfied with himself. He wasn’t ready to tell them what happened in the staircase—not now. Hopefully this little tirade would be enough to distract them.

“…Oh wow,” Chrome mumbled.

“Leave all the heavy work to Magma,” Senku said, eyes narrowing. “If he asks for help, ignore him. Let him suffer—”

“That’s not enough,” Ukyo added in a quiet, chilling tone. “Revoke his food portions.”

“I shall serve him last,” Francois declared with conviction, knowing the last person always got less food—and it was cold. “In fact… perhaps I should make dishes with no seasoning. He doesn’t deserve the privilege of flavor.”

“Guys…” Gen tried to cut in. He was touched—truly—by how much they cared, but there was something he really needed to know. “Those all sound like antastic-fay ideas, but… one thing’s bugging me. What’s today’s date?”

“September 21, 5741 AD,” Senku answered without hesitation. “Nearly two days since you’ve been petrified, Mentalist.”

“Two days?” Gen blinked, the words sinking in. “Two days passed?”

“Not everyone’s been revived yet,” Senku continued matter-of-factly. “Hyoga, Homura, and Moz are still statues. We haven’t gotten to Kohaku or Ginro either. And Ibara—he’ll stay petrified for the rest of eternity.” The conviction in his voice made it sound like a promise.

Gen shifted slightly, the shock melting into a small, thoughtful smile. “I see…”

Everyone returned to work, though Francois lingered beside Gen, inquiring about what he had eaten over the past week. When Gen admitted he’d been surviving on only fish and fruit, Francois was appalled. He quickly reassured them that Ukyo had brought him ducks during the last three days before his petrification. That memory sparked another—Ryusui’s comment about Francois making a superb pan-seared duck breast with blackberry sauce—prompting Gen to ask if they could make it for him someday. The blonde beta gave an unhesitating, “Of course.”

Francois hovered around Gen afterward, ensuring he was cared for and well-fed, preparing a proper meal that moved the omega to tears of joy.

Before long, they revived Kirisame and explained the full story of the Master’s death, then asked for the location of Ginro’s and Kohaku’s statues.

When they found them, the setting sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow. Kohaku was revived first, immediately voicing concern over Ginro’s injuries, but Senku reassured her that he would be fully healed once brought back. After a quick change from the bloodstained dress into his signature outfit, the group held their breath as Ginro was revived.

Kinro turned away, shielding his teary face when he saw his younger brother alive and well. Ginro, smiling brightly at the group, thanked everyone—especially Kohaku. Yet Gen noticed something odd about him. He smelled different.

Ginro approached Kohaku. Many expected him to leap at her and be promptly knocked to the ground. Instead, he simply hugged her—no lewd comments, no groping—just a genuine, grateful embrace. Kohaku, wary at first, patted his back, eventually returning the gesture.

Then Amaryllis broke the silence. “Is it just me,” she asked, “or does Ginro smell… sweeter to you?”

Kinro sniffed the air, his brows furrowing. As Ginro pulled back from his embrace with Kohaku, Kinro’s eyes narrowed. “You almost smell like an omega…”

“What?! That’s impossible!” Ginro shot back, gesturing at himself. “Must be a side effect from the petrification… I’m a beta!”

“Oh my god… Ginro.” Kohaku placed a hand on his shoulder before breaking into a wide grin, as if she’d just received the best news. “You’re the late bloomer! Our village’s first male omega!”

“Noooo!” Ginro clutched his head before whipping around to Senku. “Senku, tell them they’re wrong!” His gaze darted to Gen. “I can’t be an omega! Gen, my scent’s still the same—”

“Tell me,” Senku interrupted, arms crossing, “did you feel any different before you were petrified?”

“I felt hotter than usual, but that was because I was nervous about seeing the Master!” Ginro said defensively.

“Your body was already changing without you realizing it. You were constantly surrounded by omegas and alphas—pressure like that can push things along. The petrification must’ve been the final trigger.” Senku gave him a thumbs-up. “Congratulations, Ginro. You’re an omega.”

“Noooooo!” Ginro dropped to his knees, fingers tangling in his hair. “Why meee?!”

“Ginro-chan, hey—it’s okay!” Gen stepped forward, trying to reassure him. “Being an omega isn’t that ad-bay. Sure, it comes with challenges, but so does life. It’ll take time to adjust, and yeah, the scents are probably overwhelming right now… If you want, Ukyo-chan and I can give you a crash course on male omegas—”

Kirisame, watching from the sidelines, tilted her head in curiosity. Three male omegas… she hadn’t expected that. Her gaze lingered on Gen in particular, sharp and intent, like she was debating whether to speak. She stayed silent, but Gen could feel the weight of her stare on the back of his head.

“Good luck fighting off all of Ginro’s future suitors, Kinro!” Kohaku barked, slapping Kinro’s back.

Kinro jerked forward with a grunt, then laughed awkwardly. “I seriously doubt anyone would be interested in my brother…”

“Hey! Don’t you want to see your little brother happy?!” Ginro shot back.

That night, they held a banquet aboard the Perseus, celebrating with the islanders. Laughter, music, and the scent of fresh food filled the air. While the festivities raged on deck, the main group gathered in the comms room, checking in with Ruri.

No one could have prepared them for what came next.

Midway through their call, the signal cut out—then flickered back, not with Ruri’s voice, but with something far more chilling.

Gen froze.

He already knew.

Why-Man.

But this time, it wasn’t the hollow, robotic “Why?” they’d heard before. Instead, it recited something else entirely: the diameter of the Earth. The implication was clear to everyone in that room—Why-Man planned to petrify the entire world again.

The worst part?

They were using Senku’s voice.

The celebration was over. The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. No one felt like returning to the deck. One by one, they drifted off to their rooms, deciding to leave the matter for tomorrow. For now, exhaustion pulled them under. At least, for the first time in far too long, they would sleep in real beds—inside the Perseus’s quarters.

Despite the grim turn, Gen couldn’t help but feel a flicker of happiness to be back in his own bed. Curling against his mate, he let himself relax. Senku welcomed him without hesitation, arms wrapping around him, equally relieved to have his mate safely back where he belonged.

__________

September 22, 5741 AD

They revisited the issue the next morning. Why-Man’s transmission hadn’t changed—over and over, the voice repeated the same thing:

“Twelve million, eight hundred thousand meters. One second.”

Ukyo confirmed it was synthetic. Chrome, leaning over the comms equipment, pieced it together—Why-Man must have recorded Senku’s voice when he’d uttered the petrification command to trap Ibara.

To Gen, the intent was obvious. Why-Man didn’t have a shred of goodwill. They were determined to petrify the entire world again. But that didn’t explain why they were transmitting this message—or why they were using his mate’s voice in particular.

It didn’t take long for the crew’s imaginations to run wild. Soon a rumor was circulating that Senku had a secret twin—or worse, a doppelgänger. Senku dismissed it with a snort, calling it ridiculous. He was an only child, after all.

Then Soyuz spoke up. He remembered seeing a device—its exact shape—somewhere before. His memory led them back to the island.

By the time they arrived, the sun was high, beating down on their backs as they stood before the nameless statue Taiju had once retrieved during an ocean dive.

They poured the revival fluid, watching as the cracks of stone peeled away. Moments later, the figure emerged—a young alpha, perhaps in his twenties.

Francois offered him clothes, which he accepted without hesitation, quickly dressing before bowing his head.

“Thank you, kind travelers. I am in your debt.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s skip the pleasantries,” Senku said, scratching his ear with his pinky. “What do you know about the petrification device?”

“We should at least know his name first, Senku-chan,” Gen chided lightly, his eyes lingering as the long-haired alpha tied his hair into a high ponytail.

Something about him—the poised movements, the sharp gaze—reminded Gen of a samurai. And, he had to admit, the newcomer was undeniably attractive. Gen couldn’t help but wonder which of their crew member would end up falling for him first.

“My name is Matsukaze—” The newcomer stopped mid-sentence.

From somewhere in the distance came a high-pitched scream. Seconds later, Ginro came sprinting past, panic etched on his face, with Kohaku and Kirisame hot on his heels.

“Master?” Matsukaze’s eyes widened. In a single motion, he snatched a thick green branch from the ground, wielding it like a katana. Before anyone could react, he blurred forward, knocking both Kohaku and Kirisame aside in the blink of an eye. “I’ll save you!”

He scooped Ginro up by the waist—surprisingly gently—and carried him several steps away, setting him down as though shielding him from invisible danger. Ginro stared at him, wide-eyed, even as Matsukaze dropped to one knee.

“I have dishonored myself, Master. I should never have allowed myself to be petrified. But I, Matsukaze, swear to you that no harm will come to you now that I have returned to your side.” His voice rang with conviction.

Gen’s jaw went slack, then he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Uh… you’re on our side? Huh?” Ginro asked uncertainly, fidgeting under the intense gaze.

“He’s not your master, he’s just our resident sleazebag,” Senku cut in dryly.

Ginro whipped his head toward him. “That’s so not true—he’s lying!” He clenched his fists, then quickly relaxed, glancing back at Matsukaze. “Uh… nice to meet you?”

As Matsukaze recounted his story, the group learned several things: he was a few hundred years old, once serving a master who looked exactly like Ginro. He had witnessed an attack by Why-Man, who had unleashed dozens of petrification devices at once. That revelation left only one logical conclusion—Why-Man was, to put it simply, on the moon.

Ginro, meanwhile, was rambling that Matsukaze’s former master must have been a distant relative—or that he himself was the man’s reincarnation. The blonde omega even went so far as to suggest that Matsukaze should serve him—if, of course, the long-haired alpha didn’t mind.

Kohaku and Chrome exchanged looks of heavy judgment. Kinro sighed and apologized to their new companion, while Amaryllis shook her head, disappointed that Ginro seemed so different from the version she’d known during the palace infiltration.

Then Kohaku’s eyes lit up. She elbowed Kinro in the stomach, making him grunt. “What are the odds that Ginro and Matsukaze end up together?”

“Oh, I can totally see it,” Amaryllis said with a giggle.

“Ugh. Ginro? In love?” Chrome snorted. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening.”

“Like I said before, I don’t see anyone possibly—” Kinro began, confident, but faltered when he caught Matsukaze staring at his brother with surprising intensity. “—being interested in my brother… No.”

He turned and marched away. “No!”

“What’s up with him?” Kirisame asked, tilting her head as she watched Kinro’s retreating figure.

“Seems like he won’t accept the idea that his brother might actually get mated someday,” Kohaku snickered.

“Ah… it’ll be un-fay watching this unfold,” Gen said with a knowing smile. “Like a romantic drama playing out in real life. Will Kinro-chan threaten Matsukaze-chan to stay away from his little brother? Or will he accept him with open arms?”

“Whatever the case, I’m heavily invested!” Kohaku grinned.

“And I’m not.” Chrome waved them off and headed toward Senku and Kaseki.

“That was super valuable information. Thanks, Matsukaze,” Senku said, eyes alight with excitement. “Now it’s time for the science team to fill in the gaps.”

Chrome and Kaseki whooped in agreement, and the three of them immediately broke into a run toward the mobile lab.

“Oh, leaving already, Senku-chan?” Gen sighed in mock disappointment.

Senku halted mid-stride, then turned back. Without a word, the alpha stepped in, pressing a firm kiss to his mate’s lips before pulling away with a smirk. “Gonna make a parabolic antenna. I’ll see you back on the ship. Lioness, I’m leaving you with Gen.”

Before Gen could recover from the sudden display, Senku was already sprinting off with Chrome and Kaseki, leaving the omega standing there in stunned silence.

Kohaku was unofficially assigned as Gen’s bodyguard, and the blonde beta didn’t seem to mind—especially after hearing what had happened to him: Moz’s unsettling advances and Magma’s assault.

Since their leader couldn’t physically punish Magma—Senku was far from the strongest fighter—he simply ordered Kohaku to deliver a beating on his behalf.

Gen looked at Kohaku and sighed. “It seemed like you were training earlier, Kohaku-chan. I’ll be fine on my own now that the danger’s out of the way. I’ll be okay~”

Since Senku and the science team had left, the others had dispersed to do their own thing. Ginro immediately went off to find his older brother, Matsukaze trailing behind him. Taiju and Soyuz decided to return to the Perseus to lend a hand. Ryusui scooped up Suika and told Francois they’d be meeting Ukyo, so they’d see them back on the ship.

The only ones left in the clearing were Gen, Kohaku, Amaryllis, Kirisame, and Francois.

“Nonsense, Kirisame and I can pick up where we left off later.” Kohaku huffed, turning to the female alpha for confirmation. “Is that all right with you?”

“It’s no problem,” Kirisame replied with a nod.

Gen smiled tightly at that. Ever since his revival, he’d never once been truly alone. If it wasn’t his mate sticking to him like glue—not that Gen minded—it was his friends. It was obvious Senku must have said something to them, but right now Gen really needed a moment to himself.

“I just need a moment… please,” he murmured.

Kohaku’s lips parted at the plea, but with a reluctant nod, she let him go. Gen bid the girls and the butler farewell as they stood by Kohaku. Amaryllis and Kirisame exchanged murmurs that made Kohaku’s eyes widen in shock. The beta looked ready to rush after him, but Francois laid a hand on her arm, stopping her.

Gen caught the strange exchange out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t dwell on it. Turning away, he quietly walked off.

_______

“These past couple of days must’ve been hard for Gen…” Amaryllis murmured, waving at the bi-colored-haired omega in the distance.

“Moz is a pig. I find his actions despicable,” Kirisame said sharply, arms crossed. “He never made advances toward pregnant betas or omegas before… so why does Gen suddenly catch his eye?”

“What happened in that cave was terrifying,” Amaryllis admitted, frowning as she hooked an arm around Kohaku for comfort. “I thought he was going to hurt Gen—and the baby! They were so close… and then he just declared he likes him. He looked ready to take Gen for himself. Senku was furious!”

“Huh?” Kohaku’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest, her eyes going wide at Amaryllis’s words.

“It’s true male omegas are rare here,” Kirisame continued, unaware of Kohaku’s reaction, “but even I didn’t expect there to be two—no, three—on this island. And Gen… I was shocked to learn he’s pregnant.”

Kirisame’s voice softened, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “He’s so brave. Even with a child on the way, he doesn’t let anything hold him back. He and Senku will make wonderful parents.”

“Baby? Parents?” Kohaku repeated under her breath, staring at Gen as though she’d never seen him before. Her muscles tensed, ready to rush toward the omega. Gen’s pregnant? He and Senku are going to be parents? Why haven’t they told anyone?

All these thoughts swirled through Kohaku’s mind—Gen tying the rope around her ankles to trip them, Amaryllis’s cryptic comments about “not wanting to endanger them,” the hints about Gen’s nausea when they fled Ibara’s forces in the mobile lab.

Everything clicked.

The realization hit like a blow to the chest.

Gen is pregnant.

And suddenly, her anger toward Moz and Magma—already burning hot—tripled.

“Gen—” Kohaku called, stepping toward him. She needed to hear it from him directly. She wanted to find Senku too, to make sure he knew—

But Francois stepped smoothly into her path, arms outstretched. “Master Kohaku, now’s not the right time. Master Gen is under considerable stress, and that could endanger both him and the baby. He hasn’t had a moment to breathe—let him have a few moments of peace.”

Kohaku frowned, jaw tight. “Francois—”

A sharp, unblinking look from Francois cut her off. “I’ve been told a great deal happened during the week and a half I was petrified. I regret not being able to prepare proper meals for Master Gen in that time…” They glanced toward the omega’s back, their expression softening. “…but it seems that both Master Senku and Master Gen are unaware they’re expecting.”

Francois lowered their arms once Kohaku stilled. “We should keep it that way for now. If we told them, both would be highly emotional—perhaps even irrational.”

Amaryllis gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. “If that’s true… then all this time, neither of them knew Gen is pregnant? But… how?”

“There’s a bunch of alphas in the ship’s crew, right? Why haven’t they picked up the change of scent? It’s obvious to both Amaryllis and I. A pregnant omega’s scent is much sweeter, very noticeable,” Kirisame questioned the butler.

“Wouldn’t Senku be the first to know?” Amaryllis asked with a nod.

“Maybe it’s because they bonded recently… a month or so ago? Their scents might have blended together enough to mask it.” Kohaku brought a hand underneath her chin. “That could be the reason why they don’t know yet.”

“Recently? You mean they haven’t been mates for long?” Amaryllis blinked in surprise.

“That’s right,” Francois confirmed, tone even. “It seems the one time they shared both a heat and a rut—combined with their mating—resulted in Master Gen’s pregnancy.”

Kohaku frowned. “That’s odd. I’ve always heard that pregnancy on the first try is rare… it didn’t happen with Ryusui and Ukyo.”

“It’s clear Senku and Gen are unusually compatible,” Amaryllis said, eyes brightening. “They must be fated mates. That’s the only explanation for such quick success.”

At this, Kohaku burst out laughing. “Leave it to Senku’s luck! The man couldn’t even wait to start a family and nails it on the first try. Fated mates, huh? That suits them perfectly!”

Stories, myths, and legends about fated mates had been passed down for generations—one of them even among Ruri’s 100 tales. It told of two souls whose attraction burned so brightly their compatibility defied the odds. They were drawn together as if by an invisible thread, always finding their way back to each other no matter the distance or danger. Such bonds could work miracles… and sometimes, they did.

“I understand that you don’t want them to know now, but how will you accomplish that? One of the islanders are bound to let that information slip,” Kirisame said seriously. She doubted they could keep this “secret” from both Senku and Gen for long.

Amaryllis’s face twisted with worry. “That’s true… the old ladies in my village love to talk.”

Kohaku’s lips pressed into a thin line. What Kirisame was saying was true. The only reason the rest of the Perseus crew hadn’t noticed was because they had grown accustomed to both Gen and Senku’s scents. When the two had recently bonded and their scents mixed, it took a few days for everyone to adjust. After that, it became normal—no one questioned the new scent, assuming the sweeter notes in Gen’s scent were just part of the bonding process. Ukyo had even confirmed that every bond was different: the combined scent of two people was always unique and never the same.

But Francois had a point. If Gen or Senku were to find out—if they learned that they were going to be parents and that Gen had been pregnant this whole time—it could be disastrous. All the danger they’d faced, everything they’d gone through… it might send them into an emotional shock. Gen might panic, maybe even become hysterical; the omega had clearly endured something he still refused to speak of. Senku, on the other hand, was unpredictable. There was a high chance he’d grow overly protective, violent, or territorial. He might refuse to let anyone near Gen, enter a frenzy, and ignore all reason. He’d likely overwork himself and push his limits—especially now that Why-Man had reentered the picture.

So it made sense to keep the information from them, and from anyone else on the crew. Kohaku knew how quickly rumors could spread. It wouldn’t be easy, but…

“We’ll just have to stop that from happening,” she said firmly. “At least until we leave the island.”

“ ‘We?’ ” Amaryllis repeated, gesturing toward herself, Kirisame, and Francois.

“Stopping rumors or anything from spreading is well within my job description. This will be easy—you can leave the Perseus crew to me.” Francois adjusted their gloves with calm determination.

“Huh, this sounds like a challenge…” Kirisame placed a hand on her hip, then nodded. “It seems like fun. Count me in.”

“So what? You want us to make loud noises or distractions every time someone tries to mention ‘baby’ or ‘pregnancy’ within Senku’s or Gen’s earshot?” Amaryllis asked, genuinely unsure how they planned to pull this off.

“Or any of our crew members. Let’s keep them oblivious,” Kohaku said firmly, arms crossed. She paused, glancing at Francois. “Actually… do you know who else might know?”

“For now, it seems like only us, Master Kaseki, and—if Master Hyoga was battling against Moz—there’s no doubt that he knows as well.” Francois listed off the names, then looked ahead, spotting a familiar figure returning from the direction Gen had gone. Their sharp eyes noted the newcomer’s expression. “Master Ukyo knows as well.”

At the mention of his name, all eyes turned toward Ukyo, who was striding toward them with uncharacteristic speed. His sea-green eyes were narrowed, his expression contemplative, and the corners of his eyes looked faintly red, as if he’d been crying.

He stopped right in front of them. They waited with bated breath as Francois reached out to take the catch of the day from him.

Ukyo handed over the ducks to the beta butler, then leveled the group with a serious look. “I ran into Gen, and I overheard what you all said.”

He paused, tipping his head downward slightly. “I’m on board with your crazy plan, Kohaku.”

________

Gen calmly retraced his steps from the frantic chase after whoever had been holding the petrification device at the time. His feet slowed when he reached the spot where he had once stood frozen in stone.

Senku was hiding something. Gen was sure of it. Whatever Ibara had done, his mate wasn’t telling him the full story—and that explained why he had woken up aboard the Perseus instead of here.

The new clothes he’d been given—crisp, clean, and a near-perfect replacement for his usual outfit—were a kindness he appreciated. But a few personal items were missing. His deck of cards, for one. And the small knife he always kept on him. When he’d asked Senku about it, the alpha had said he must have dropped them when they were separated. He’d even promised to make Gen a new deck of cards and replaced the knife if they couldn’t find it.

Still… both of them were holding back.

Senku hadn’t pressed about Gen’s pale, shaken appearance when he emerged from the staircase, accepting the way Gen had deftly redirected the conversation toward Magma. And Gen hadn’t pushed for the truth of what happened between Senku and Ibara.

They’d have to talk eventually. He needed to tell Senku what had really happened to him. And just as much—he wanted to know what had happened to Senku.

Now that they were safe from immediate danger and no longer racing against the clock, Gen finally had the time to think back on what had happened during his week and a half on Treasure Island.

Moz’s strange behavior toward him still lingered in his mind—the way he’d shifted from a curious, almost teasing interest to suddenly wanting to kill him without hesitation. The alpha warrior’s ominous, weighted words echoed in his thoughts, though their meaning remained elusive.

And then there was Hyoga. Gen couldn’t deny it—Hyoga had saved him. He had defended and shielded him, his presence unwavering in that moment. Gen didn’t know what had changed the man’s heart, but he had felt the sincerity in the white-haired alpha’s stance, in his cutting criticism of Moz. Still… that didn’t erase the fact that he had nearly died, or at the very least suffered a fatal wound. Even recalling it made his stomach churn.

Gen hugged himself, exhaling shakily.

Then there was… well, himself. The changes in his body had become impossible to ignore: the heightened appetite, the slow but noticeable weight gain, the swelling tide of emotions. It could all be chalked up to the change in environment—but something deep inside him whispered that it was more than that.

A rustling from the forest broke through his thoughts. Gen turned toward the sound just in time to see Ukyo stepping out from between the trees, a couple of ducks tied together and slung over his shoulder. Both men blinked in surprise at the sight of each other.

“Ukyo-chan? I thought you were with Ryusui-chan—” Gen turned toward his omega friend.

“Gen! Weren’t you with Senku and the others? Why are you here alone?” Ukyo asked, concern creasing his brow as his gaze swept past Gen’s shoulder, searching for any sign of Senku or the rest of their group.

“That finished twenty minutes ago. We have a new friend—his name’s Matsukaze-chan—and it seems Ginro-chan has somehow gained himself a bodyguard. He also gave us some useful information. Senku-chan and the science team went off to build an antenna, while the others wandered off to do their own thing.” Gen explained what had happened in the past couple of minutes, then raised a brow at Ukyo. “Ryusui-chan went off to find you with Suika-chan… so why are you here?”

Ukyo chuckled and held up his catch. “Hunting our dinner. I heard we’re having another celebration, so I was tasked with fetching this. Francois will be making a variety of dishes, so surely dinner will be delicious. I was on my way to hand this off to them before looking for Ryusui and Suika.”

Gen practically drooled at the thought of their mini buffet. Clearing his throat, he smiled. “What are you guys planning to do?”

“Suika mentioned she wanted to sail around the island, so Ryusui took it upon himself to make that happen. Since the Perseus is still getting fixed up, we’ll be using the motorboat instead… though knowing my mate, we’ll probably take a couple of laps around.” Ukyo’s smile softened at the thought. “He figured I could use a nice break after spending half my time in the comms room listening to Why-Man’s message.”

Gen perked up and clasped his hands together. “That sounds great—Ukyo-chan deserves a nice, long break too.”

“You still didn’t answer my question about why you’re here alone, Gen.” Ukyo crossed his arms, giving him a pointed look.

“I just wanted some time alone, that’s all!” Gen replied with a bright smile—but Ukyo wasn’t fooled. The white-haired omega merely raised a brow, the silent gesture saying he didn’t believe a word of it.

Gen sighed, long and drawn out, before giving in. “Ever since I’ve been revived, I feel like I haven’t had a single moment alone with myself or my thoughts. Someone’s always by my side. I appreciate it—really, I do—but it gets overwhelming. I just need time to reorganize my thoughts. These past couple of days have been… quite eventful.”

“Tell me about it…” Ukyo sighed as he approached, the ducks swaying lightly over his shoulder. “Ever since I’ve been revived, Ryusui’s made it his mission to stick to me like glue. He finally backed off after I told him I needed some space…”

Both Senku and Ryusui’s strange behavior lined up too neatly with the time they’d all been petrified. Gen’s mind immediately went back to that thought: Ibara must have used their statues to threaten their mates.

Gen hummed thoughtfully, stepping forward. Ukyo naturally fell into pace beside him, sensing the conversation wasn’t over.

“Don’t you get the feeling that—”

“—that Senku and Ryusui are hiding something from us?” Ukyo finished without missing a beat, then gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I do.”

“I knew it.” Gen’s hand slipped under his chin in his classic thinking pose. “My only theory is that our statues might’ve been used as leverage against them. I mean, what else could Ibara-chan have done?”

Ukyo’s expression grew contemplative. “If that’s the case, then why haven’t they told us? It’s like they’re tiptoeing around us.”

“We won’t know unless they decide to tell us,” Gen murmured, exhaling through his nose.

The forest soon gave way to the open clearing where the petrification had originated—the very center point of the island. The view was strangely serene, as if the land itself had forgotten the chaos that had taken place here.

Ukyo glanced at Gen from the corner of his eye. “That’s not the only thing that’s been bothering you, is it? Ryusui told me how pale you looked that day. He thought you might collapse.”

Gen rubbed his arms, uncertain, and let his head loll to the side. “It was a very stressful day—”

“You can tell me what happened. I won’t tell anyone. You know this,” Ukyo interrupted gently, reassuring him. “A friend of mine once told me it’s never good to keep things bottled up. It’s better to confide in someone you trust. What really happened on the staircase, Gen?”

Gen’s heart swelled. He remembered saying those very words to Ukyo in the past. Knowing his friend had held onto them tugged at something deep inside him. He pursed his lips, giving Ukyo a certain look that made the archer hold his breath.

Ukyo was right. Maybe he would feel better if he said it out loud—if he shared his worries and fears. “Okay.”

Taking a deep breath, Gen let it out slowly and placed a hand on his chest to steady himself. “You already know I was the last one to exit. The others had gone ahead… and then—” His lip trembled. “You know that feeling when your fight-or-flight instincts kick in? Alarm bells blaring in your head?”

Ukyo nodded. He knew exactly what Gen meant.

“Well, I knew something was wrong—eriously-say wrong,” Gen continued, sliding his hand from his chest to his stomach. “And I was right. The moment I turned around, I saw Moz-chan lunging at me. He was fully intent on killing me right then and there… or at least hurting me badly.”

Ukyo froze, his eyes widening.

“He was aiming here.” Gen pressed his palm to his stomach, drawing Ukyo’s gaze to the spot before letting his hand fall to his side. “If it wasn’t for Hyoga-chan… I’d probably be dead.”

He exhaled heavily, rubbing his forehead. “Hyoga-chan jumped to my defense without hesitation and motioned for me to run. I was surprised…” Gen’s expression shifted to one of discomfort. “But I overheard something Moz-chan said, and I can’t make sense of it.”

Ukyo clenched his fist, jaw tightening at the thought of what his friend had endured. “What did he say?”

Gen’s gaze drifted toward the horizon, as if replaying the moment in his mind. “ ‘It’s not like he even knows. I was going to let him keep it once he became mine. But now? Wouldn’t it be better if it’s gone?’ ”

He fell silent, letting the words hang between them. Ukyo’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the warrior alpha’s cryptic intent.

“Do you know what he meant?” Ukyo asked at last, studying Gen’s face for any clue.

Gen shook his head slowly. “Not exactly. At first I thought he meant my bond with Senku, but… now I’m not so sure.” His shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “I didn’t stick around to find out.”

Ukyo’s brows furrowed. “You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a while. I can’t imagine what you were feeling in that moment—especially when we were already dealing with the petrification threat.” He reached out, his hand a quiet offer of comfort.

Gen hesitated, then sighed. “I’ve been… looking back on everything that’s happened here. Now that it’s over, we can finally breathe but…” His voice trailed off, reluctant to say more. Finally, he gave in. “I’ve been feeling strange. My appetite’s shot up, and I get hungry at random times. I figured it was from going so long with barely anything to eat while we were hiding from the enemy. I can’t tell you how many times I missed Francois-chan’s cooking.”

He pressed a hand to his stomach, lips pursing. “I think I’ve gained weight. It’s not obvious yet, but I can feel it. I need to cut back, exercise more… maybe that’ll help with this exhaustion, too.”

In the middle of Gen’s rambling, Ukyo’s expression shifted in an instant. As the omega spoke, everything clicked into place in Ukyo’s mind. All the signs, all the symptoms—Gen’s sudden outbursts, his overly affectionate mood swings, his pickiness with food and strange cravings, the way he tired more easily, the bouts of nausea Suika had mentioned. Ryusui had even confirmed that Gen once fainted from overworking.

But now Ukyo realized the truth—Gen’s body hadn’t just been exhausted. It had been pushed far past its limits for a pregnant omega.

Gen is pregnant, he’s pregnant.

Gen and Senku had bonded over a month ago, which explained why no one had noticed the change in his scent. Everyone must have assumed it was simply the mix of the pair’s pheromones. But now, with this clarity, Ukyo noticed how much sweeter Gen’s scent had become. It hit him like a pack of bricks. The truth was so obvious—it’s in his scent.

“Maybe I should pick up my core exercises again,” Gen mumbled, half to himself, “the ones I used to do for my acrobatics training…”

They don’t know.

That thought repeated in Ukyo’s head, heavy and relentless. How could they know? They’d been too busy with the whole Ibara situation, the petrification, and everything else that came with surviving this island. They’d never had a chance to realize.

And Gen.

Oh god, Gen.

Ukyo pressed a hand over his mouth, his eyes narrowing as the sting of tears welled up. His mind replayed every moment of the past weeks with new, gut-wrenching context—Moz, Magma, Ibara. Every time Gen had been in danger. Every time he had been at risk.

Gen had gotten hurt—Magma had hurt him. Ukyo also remembered Gen once mentioning that all his pain vanished upon revival. That meant the injury had happened sometime between the staircase incident… or here, on the island. And the way Gen kept brushing his hand over his right side… that must have been the spot.

Moz had known the whole time. His cryptic remarks in the cave after following Amaryllis back to their hideout now made sense. Gen telling him that Moz had aimed for his stomach—Moz had been trying to kill Senku and Gen’s baby.

The realization made Ukyo feel as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. Gen could have lost the pup without even knowing he was expecting. His stomach twisted, tears blurred Ukyo’s vision before spilling freely down his cheeks.

Hyoga had known, too—and had stepped in to protect Gen and the baby. Ukyo still didn’t understand Hyoga’s full motives, but right now, he was nothing but grateful that both had been saved.

“Hey, Ukyo-chan… what’s wrong?” Gen’s voice was gentle, almost hesitant, as he stepped closer, brows drawn in concern. “Why are you crying, my dear?”

The kindness in his tone only made Ukyo’s tears fall harder. He couldn’t imagine how Gen would react if he knew. The shock alone might send him into hysteria, a dangerous state for both him and the baby. If Ukyo was this shaken just knowing the truth, he couldn’t begin to fathom what it would do to Gen.

Or to Senku.

Senku would be a ticking time bomb. The cool, calm, and collected alpha—their leader—would lose his composure in a snap if he knew. Ukyo decided they couldn’t find out, at least not now.

“Sorry, Gen. It’s just… when you told me you almost died, it made me sad. I can’t imagine you not being here…” Ukyo sniffed, forcing a wobbly smile as he lied. He wiped his tears and reached out to pat his friend’s head. “I’ll make sure nothing like that happens to you ever again.”

Gen blinked before letting out a soft laugh. “Are you going to be my unofficial bodyguard like Kohaku-chan now? What about your job as our sonarman?”

“I can balance both with ease. It’s no problem at all, Gen.” Ukyo grinned.

“Ukyo-chan is cool~” Gen praised, making the white-haired omega’s smile soften.

“I’m going to head back and give this to Francois.” Ukyo gestured to the ducks tied onto a rope slung over his shoulder.

“Ryusui-chan and Suika-chan are probably already looking for you. I feel a little guilty stealing your time,” Gen chuckled, scratching his cheek.

“Nonsense. Ryusui will understand.” Ukyo gave him a fond look. “Don’t stay out here too late, or else Senku will send a search party.”

“Ugh, he’s too busy building stuff with Chrome-chan and Kaseki-chan to notice, anyway~” Gen waved a dismissive hand. “Kohaku-chan would probably find me before it comes to that, so I’ll linger for another five or ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Ukyo nodded and turned to leave. “Be careful, Gen.”

“I will!” Gen called after him.

As Ukyo walked away, a fresh burst of energy coursed through him, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Moz, Magma, Ibara—anyone who had hurt Gen or endangered the pup in his stomach—past, present, or future—would pay. Ukyo would make sure of it.

_______

September 25th, 5741 AD

For the past two days, Ukyo, Kohaku, Amaryllis, Francois, and Kirisame had worked together to keep everything under wraps. Between Why-Man’s confirmed location on the moon, Senku’s announcement of a new project that would require traveling across the globe to build a rocket, and the revival of the remaining islanders, there was already plenty to distract people. Senku had even tasked Soyuz with a project that demanded all hands on deck—including the islanders—and they’d managed to finish it in a single day: a radio tower to connect the island to the mainland.

The group did their best to intervene whenever an islander tried to congratulate Gen or Senku on their “baby,” the couple remaining blissfully unaware as they stayed absorbed in their own plans.

Last night, however, Gen overheard a conversation between Senku and Chrome, which gave the omega an idea. Since his mate and Chrome were already working on making fireworks, why not turn it into a small festival—a parting gift for the islanders?

By sheer coincidence, he ran into Francois right after forming the idea. Without hesitation, they agreed to begin preparations immediately.

Now, after a successful test of their brand-new radio tower, everyone was gathered on the beach under a clear night sky, the stars and moon shining brightly overhead. The mood was festive, with a scattering of food stalls offering a variety of treats that everyone seemed to enjoy.

Gen sat atop a large cloth Yuzuriha had laid out—along with several others—for people to lounge on. Around him, Ukyo, Ryusui, Suika, Kohaku, Amaryllis, Kirisame, Soyuz, Kinro, Ginro, Matsukaze, Taiju, and Yuzuriha chatted animatedly, enjoying the night.

Everyone already knew that tomorrow they’d set sail for home.

Amaryllis clung to Kohaku’s arm with a little whine. “I’m going to miss you all!”

“Don’t worry, we can visit anytime. Isn’t that right, Ryusui?” Kohaku turned to the captain for confirmation.

“Ha-ha! That’s right! Now that we’ve set up a radio tower on the island, communication will be a breeze,” Ryusui declared with a satisfied nod, arms crossed.

Ukyo brushed his shoulder lightly against Gen’s. “Though… I think it’ll be a while before we come back. Senku has other plans.”

“That’s right,” Gen said, leaning back on his hands, fingers curling into the warm sand. “I still can’t elieve-bay we’re going to build a rocket to the moon in this stone world.” His smile turned soft as he tilted his head toward the sky. “But if anyone’s going to pull it off, it’s Senku-chan. I believe in him.”

“Exactly! Senku’s a pro at rockets,” Taiju agreed enthusiastically, still chewing his food.

“We just need to gather the materials first,” Yuzuriha added with a gentle smile, wiping a smear from Taiju’s cheek.

“Is it really possible to go to the moon?” Matsukaze asked, brow furrowing in curiosity.

“Of course!” Ryusui’s eyes sparkled. “It’s been done in the past, and it’ll be done again in the future! Nothing in this world can stop my desire to stand on the moon!”

Beside him, Suika gave a little gasp of awe.

“Amaryllis, did you finish making the—” Kirisame began.

“Yes!” Amaryllis’ eyes sparkled.

Over the past few days, while their little mission kept the star couple in the dark, she had been gathering all sorts of seashells to craft wind chimes for Gen’s pup. Since the baby’s gender was still a mystery, she’d gone overboard and made several.

On the island, gifting a seashell wind chime to new parents is tradition. Hung above a crib, the shells sing soft tunes to soothe the pup, carrying wishes of good fortune, luck, and protection from evil.

Amaryllis planned to present hers to Gen on the morning of their departure. She’d already consulted with Ukyo and Francois, learning that in their culture, wind chimes symbolized friendship and well-being—close enough to the island custom not to raise suspicion. Ukyo would explain the true meaning once Gen and Senku discovered they were expecting.

She’d even made one for Suika, because the little pup was simply too adorable to resist, and an extra for Ukyo—just in case the white-haired omega surprised them with an announcement. Teasing him about it would be half the fun.

“Does it have something to do with all those seashells you were collecting?” Suika asked curiously.

“Mhm! You’ll see tomorrow.” Amaryllis hummed.

Gen tilted his head, still wondering what she was planning.

His ears soon picked up a sound.

Gen didn’t need to turn around to know who was approaching—he recognized his mate’s footsteps instantly.

“Huh…” Senku’s gaze swept over the bustling scene: the crowd, the stalls, the cheerful faces. His eyes finally landed on Gen, and he stopped just in front of him. Resting one hand on his hip, a smile tugged at his lips. “I should’ve known you were eavesdropping. I’m surprised you managed to pull this off without me noticing.”

Gen beamed, pleased that he had managed to surprise him. “I had help, but Francois-chan did most of the work! I’m appy-hay you like it.”

“Well, now that you’ve set the mood perfectly, I won’t startle the islanders quite as much with what we’re about to do.” Senku cracked his knuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before Gen could respond, Soyuz stepped forward. “Hey, Senku. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Senku raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Go on.”

“I’m staying. I want to see the islanders start anew. The progress I’ve seen the Kingdom of Science make—I want that same change to happen here. I’ll help them and tear down the old system. No more harems. I want them to love freely, to marry who they choose without fear. These people deserve freedom, and to know they’ll never again be bound by the ways of the past.” Soyuz clenched a fist and pressed it over his heart. This island had once been ruled by his father, before it was stolen away through the greed and jealousy of another man.

“With that kind of determination, there’s no way I could force you to return with us,” Senku said, smiling sincerely. “I’m glad we can leave these people in your hands.”

“Thank you, Senku.” Soyuz bowed his head.

“No need to thank me.” Senku chuckled and extended a hand to Gen. His mate took it, and Senku pulled him to his feet. “Our goal’s still to revive the rest of humanity—and with you here, things will go even faster.”

“You’ll always have a trusted ally in me, Senku. I’ve already memorized the revival fluid formula.” Soyuz lowered his hand to his side.

“Your memory is astounding, Soyuz-chan,” Gen praised with a smile.

Soyuz returned the smile gratefully. “There are still many statues in the sea, and I plan to revive every single one, even if it takes years. I’ll save them—as the island’s new Master.”

Their friends rose to their feet, offering warm smiles and nods of encouragement.

“We’re here to help, Master Soyuz,” Amaryllis said, then turned to Gen and Senku. “You can leave the rest to us and set sail without worry.”

“Senku’s group still has Why-Man to contend with,” Kirisame noted, her expression thoughtful.

“Exactly—and he’s dangerous,” Soyuz agreed. “That’s why I want you to join them, Kirisame. They’ll be traveling the world, gathering materials, reviving countless people. No one knows what dangers they’ll face, so they’ll need a warrior as fierce as you by their side.”

Kirisame knelt before him. “Understood. I vow to prove myself worthy.”

“Heh, another female warrior,” Kohaku grinned. “With Kirisame joining us, we won’t have any trouble… right, Ukyo?”

Ukyo blinked, caught off guard, and chuckled nervously as all eyes turned to him. Francois cleared their throat, making Kohaku’s eyes widen slightly.

“Yes… we could use more members on the battle team,” Ukyo replied quickly. “Who knows what we’ll encounter out there.”

“Aha…” Kohaku laughed, a touch awkward. “I’m just happy to have another girl on the team.”

Gen blinked at that. He guessed that, aside from Nikki, Kohaku sometimes felt lonely surrounded by so many men—though he couldn’t help wondering why she’d brought up Ukyo in particular.

“Ah… I’ll miss you guys!” Amaryllis cried out.

“Soyuz has a point—why don’t you join us too, Matsukaze!” Ginro grinned, circling the long-haired alpha like a cat about to pounce. Folding his hands behind his back, he added with suspicious enthusiasm, “Fate brought us together—it’s practically destiny! I could definitely use a shi—uh, I mean… a loyal, strong, personal ripped bodyguard!”

Gen snorted and quickly covered his mouth, catching Kinro’s aghast expression. He nudged his mate and whispered, “I think Ginro-chan’s going to make Kinro-chan go grey much sooner than planned.”

Senku glanced over, just in time to see Kinro take a sharp step forward—only to freeze when Matsukaze suddenly knelt before Ginro. Senku smirked. “Ginro’s not even aware he’s blatantly flirting, and I doubt our samurai friend realizes either. Kinro’s just overthinking it.”

“I shall prove my worth as well,” Matsukaze declared.

Ginro lit up and reached for his arm, but Kinro slid in between them like a wall.

“Ginro…” Kinro’s voice was tight with uncertainty.

“It’s fine, Kinro! I asked Matsukaze and he said yes—I’m not forcing him! Now, can you move? I can’t let my shi—my amazing, strong, faithful, ripped bodyguard kneel on the sand all night!” Ginro tried to sidestep, but Kinro mirrored him perfectly.

Kohaku burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as tears filled her eyes. “This is exactly what I needed!”

“Matsukaze can get up on his own!” Kinro argued.

“Ugh, why are you being like this?” Ginro whined, circling around to stand behind Matsukaze. The long-haired alpha, still kneeling between them, looked utterly lost. “Don’t make me tell our parents when we get back home!”

“They’ll take my side. I’m the responsible, oldest one,” Kinro scoffed, reaching for his brother.

“Yeah, but now I have special privileges!” Ginro grinned smugly. “With my new status, they’ll listen to me!”

Kinro clicked his tongue in annoyance. Unfortunately, Ginro was right. As the only male omega in Ishigami Village—and the first ever—he’d be spoiled endlessly and have nearly everyone wrapped around his finger. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, Ginro…”

“This is way better than I imagined,” Gen murmured under his breath, while Kohaku was doubled over with laughter in the background. Amaryllis’s eyes sparkled at the drama unfolding before her.

“This must be a stressful situation for Kinro…” Ukyo said with quiet sympathy.

“Ah, young love…” Ryusui smiled. “Desiring someone isn’t wrong.”

“Wait, so Ginro and Matsukaze… they like each other?” Suika asked aloud.

“Waah! I’m cheering you on! Stay strong, Matsukaze!” Taiju shouted enthusiastically.

“Well, no… I don’t think they’re at that point yet,” Yuzuriha answered honestly.

Senku scratched his ear with his pinky and sighed. “Alright, take this family affair somewhere else. Whether or not you accept Matsukaze as your future in-law can wait.”

At this, Kinro darted around Matsukaze and lunged toward Ginro, who screamed and bolted in the opposite direction.

“Aaaaahh! Leave me alone! Matsukaze, help meeee!” Ginro whined as he sprinted across the beach, weaving frantically through the crowd.

Matsukaze rose to his feet with a shrug, ready to follow, but Kinro shot a sharp glare over his shoulder.

“This doesn’t concern you, Matsukaze.”

“Have I done something to offend Lord Kinro?” Matsukaze asked the group, genuinely puzzled.

“Help, I think I’m going to pee!” Kohaku gasped between laughs, trying and failing to steady her breathing. She walked over to the long-haired alpha and patted his back roughly in reassurance. “It’s okay… Matsu… kaze… This is normal. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”

“That’s just how siblings are—one’s always running and the other’s always chasing,” Ryusui said with a nostalgic smile, his gaze drifting out toward the sea as he thought of his own brother.

Suddenly, the lights around them dimmed, and Chrome’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Hey, can you hear me? We’re about to show you something so baaadd you’ll be speechless!” he announced with unrestrained excitement.

The crowd stirred, looking around in confusion.

“Brace yourselves, everyone, for Rainbow Bridge—max level!” Chrome’s voice rang out.

The night sky exploded into a dazzling display of color. Blues, reds, greens, and golds shimmered and danced above them. Gen tilted his head back, his lips curling into a soft smile. Almost without thinking, his hand found Senku’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as they both looked up, the brilliant fireworks reflecting in their eyes.

He heard an islander squeal in fright as loud booms echoed across the beach. The fireworks burst in all different sizes—purple and green blossoms shining brilliantly above them. Gen caught the sound of laughter next, followed by cheers and applause.

It was their first time seeing fireworks, so of course the islanders were in awe. His fellow modern friends, on the other hand, must have felt something more—nostalgia. A sight they’d never expected to witness in this Stone Age world.

Soyuz, in particular, had been watching the sky with wide-eyed curiosity, no doubt wondering what these beautiful explosions of color were called.

“They’re called fireworks,” The bi-colored haired omega explained, instantly catching Soyuz’s attention. “In our time, they were a symbol of hope and prayer. We’d set them off to chase away bad spirits…”

Gen glanced over his shoulder, smiling at Soyuz’s awestruck expression. “…and to soothe the lost souls of our loved ones.”

Another firework lit up directly in front of them, casting a golden glow over Gen’s face.

Senku found himself staring at his mate’s profile with unexpected tenderness.

“They’re something special,” Gen continued, feeling Senku’s gaze on him. He tilted his face toward the alpha with a soft smile. “And Senku-chan could have reintroduced them anywhere… but he chose here.”

Crimson eyes met his, swirling with unspoken emotions. Gen knew his mate was thinking about his father. Senku turned his gaze back toward the sky.

Gen, however, didn’t stop watching him.

With a fond smile, he tugged on Senku’s hand before releasing it, slipping into a side hug and resting his head against the alpha’s shoulder. Senku stilled for a moment, then wrapped an arm around Gen’s waist, his posture softening.

“What brought this on?” He asked quietly.

“Just let me shower you with my affection, dear…” Gen replied with a playful grin.

“…Okay.”

Senku chuckled, resting his head atop Gen’s as the two of them stood next to each other, watching the fireworks bloom against the night sky.

_______

That night, as Gen slept, he found himself in the middle of a dream—quite literally. He stirred awake to discover he was curled up on soft grass beneath a familiar, towering tree.

Blinking, he felt a gentle nudge against his stomach… and another beneath his chin. Lowering his gaze, his view was filled with snowy white fur.

The grass around him rustled in the still night air, moonlight spilling through the canopy above in silver beams. Slowly, Gen pushed himself upright—only to see the same two adorable kits he’d met in his dreams two weeks ago.

The little creatures chirped and squeaked in delight, clearly happy to see him again. The omega scooped them into his arms, nuzzling against their soft fur with a fond smile.

“I remember you…” he murmured.

“Gen, it’s nice to see you again!” A warm, feminine voice called. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Gen looked up. A blonde woman stood before him, gazing down with a fond smile. Her face was no longer blurry—it was perfectly clear now, and instantly familiar.

“Are you… Lillian-chan?” He asked.

Her eyes widened briefly before she pouted. “What happened to Lily-chan? I liked that cute nickname you gave me.”

Gen hesitated, unsure what to say. Why was Lillian Weinberg here, of all people? Was she truly the mysterious woman from his previous dreams?

He gently set the two little bunnies in his lap. “You were—no… you’re Lily-chan?”

“Yes, hmmm…” Lillian hummed, studying him thoughtfully. “It seems whatever was blocking you from seeing us fully has finally been lifted. That makes me happy!”

“ ‘Us’? You mean you and Ran-chan? Where is he, by the way?” Gen glanced around but saw only an endless expanse of flower fields swaying under the moonlight.

Lillian stepped back with a cheeky grin. “Our dear Ran will join us shortly. He’s going to be so excited that you can finally see him!”

Her enthusiasm radiated so brightly that Gen found himself staring. He’d only ever seen the famous omega on screen, never in person, yet here she was—shining just as vibrantly as the videos. She smoothed the skirt of her flowing white dress, and Gen recognized it instantly. It was the same dress from the concert video that once broke the internet—the debut of her new song, the first time she sang it on stage. Fans had gushed over her beauty and the range of her voice, and Gen had been no exception.

“Come on, let’s walk,” Lillian said with a graceful gesture.

Gen glanced down at the kits still curled in his lap, reluctant to leave them behind. With a quick idea, he pulled the ends of his purple overcoat together, crossing them over his chest and tying them snugly at his neck to make a makeshift pouch. Carefully, he placed the two bunnies inside. They adjusted quickly, snuggling into the warmth and peeking out through the small opening he’d left.

The bi-colored haired omega knew he probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Lillian hummed in approval and shot him a thumbs-up with a wink. “So cute! I like your quick thinking, GenGen!”

“GenGen?” Gen repeated, tilting his head. One hand rested protectively over the kits in his makeshift pouch as he rose calmly to his feet.

“It’s my nickname for you. Do you like it?” Lillian asked with a hopeful smile, and Gen found himself unable to refuse her.

“Yes. It’s lovely,” He replied with a small smile of his own.

“Perfect. I was going to make a long list if you didn’t like it,” She teased, turning to walk down a small hill. Petals drifted gently from the great tree above, swirling in the air around them.

Gen quickly followed. “Not that I mind, but… why are you in my dreams?”

“We’re connected—more so than ever,” Lillian answered, her bare feet brushing softly through the grass. “You’ve all made it to the island and received our final gift to you. I’m glad to see that our hopes and dreams reached you…” She paused, her voice softening. “He worked harder than anyone to make sure Senku received them. Harder than he should have.”

Gen’s steps slowed at her words, something in her tone tugging at his chest. He…? He instantly thought of Byakuya, but the way she spoke made it feel deeper, more layered. Someone who had carried a burden with quiet determination.

“You also faced some challenges…” Lillian’s voice wavered, her lips trembling as she cast him a worried look. “Your life—as well as theirs—was in danger.”

At her words, the memory came back to him: the dim, suffocating staircase of the Perseus, the rush of fear in his veins. He forced a nervous chuckle, hugging the kits closer against him.

“Oh, um…” His gaze darted away. “I guess it was something I couldn’t avoid… I was lucky Hyoga-chan saved me—saved us—when he chose to fight against Moz-chan. He secured a win for the Kingdom of Science.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Lillian’s voice was heavy with concern. “You know something like that isn’t easy to deal with—especially with your current status. You must have been so terrified in that moment.”

Gen’s steps slowed, a sigh escaping him. “I was.” The soft grass beneath his feet brushed against his skin. “And confused. I don’t know why Moz-chan is interested in me—or why he says such creepy, twisted things.”

His brows furrowed, frustration tightening his features. “Why did he want to hurt me?”

“Unfortunately, there are people like him in the world,” Lillian said gently. “People who want something despite knowing they can’t have it. You’d think we’d be used to it… but how can we ever get used to something we never asked for?”

Gen tapped a finger against one of the kits in a quiet rhythm. “The downside of stardom.”

Lillian’s gaze darkened. “He wanted to harm what’s inside of you—and inflict an indescribable pain known only to… omegas.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “That, I cannot forgive. Not even if he is one of my descendants.”

She turned suddenly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms carefully around him—mindful not to press against the tiny bundles in his makeshift pouch. “He wanted to take away precious lives that haven’t even seen the world yet… truly despicable.”

Gen froze, stunned by the warmth of her embrace. It felt less like meeting a legendary pop star and more like being held by family. Lillian’s fingers combed gently through his hair as she hummed softly.

“I know you’re starting to piece the puzzle together,” She murmured. “But please… don’t blame yourself. Don’t carry guilt for what happened in the past.”

When she finally pulled back, she gave him a small, bittersweet smile. Gen could only stare, left with more unanswered questions. She was right—he was onto something. The answer was so close he could almost reach it…

“All right, I think that’s enough serious talk,” Lillian said, placing a hand on her hip with a bright smile. “The view here is amazing—the breeze, the grass, the flowers… and the stars and moon above us.”

Gen glanced around, taking in each thing she named, the dreamscape seeming to shimmer under her words.

“These little treasures,” Lillian continued, gently brushing a finger over the mottled black-and-white kit, “love to hear music—songs, humming… anything with a melody.” The snowy-white kit nudged her finger with its nose, earning a soft giggle from her. “They get so excited and happy. It’s adorable.”

Gen looked down at the two bunnies in his arms. Grey-blue eyes and familiar crimson eyes blinked up at him expectantly. “So… they want me to sing?”

“Yes. Humming, singing—anything that makes a tune.” Lillian pulled her hand back and nodded. “Why don’t I show you?” Her smile turned certain, almost conspiratorial. “This will cheer you up. All three of you.”

Gen arched a brow, a laugh slipping from him. “A private oncert-cay from Lily-chan? I’m honored~”

“A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” she declared, giving him a knowing look. “Make sure you don’t look away, Gen.”

He quieted at the seriousness in her tone and nodded.

Still holding the kits, he watched as Lillian lifted the hem of her flowing white dress and began to dance. The grass swayed beneath her bare feet as if keeping time.

Then—music. The soft strum of a guitar threaded through the air, rich and clear, filling the silence. Gen’s eyes widened in surprise; instinct told him to glance around for the source, but he remembered her warning.

The omega’s lips curved as she smirked at him, the beat deepening as drums joined the guitar.

The kits in his arms trembled with excitement, tiny bodies swaying as if they longed to dance along with the music.

She’s right, Gen thought, smiling to himself as the bunnies made happy, contented noises.

“There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword—” Lillian’s voice filled the air, clear and strong.

Gen’s eyes widened as a wave of nostalgia crashed over him. He knew this song. Hearing her sing —not through a grainy recording, but here, so real—was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“He will tear your city down. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

“Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” Gen couldn’t help but join in. Lillian’s eyes widened in delight, her smile brightening as they sang together.

“He will tear your city down. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

The kits wriggled happily in his arms, clearly enjoying the performance. Gen laughed, and Lillian spun across the grass, the hem of her dress fluttering. She twirled, kicked her feet, and waved the corner of the fabric like a ribbon.

“There will come a poet whose weapon is his word.” Lillian leaned close as she sang, giving him a cheeky grin. She mimed a sword swing with her free hand, earning another laugh from him. “He will slay you with his tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

“Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

She caught one of his hands and twirled him in place. They sang together, their voices mingling as easily as if they’d done it a hundred times.

“He will slay you with his tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

“There will come a ruler whose brow is laid on thorn—” A deeper male voice joined the song, carrying the next words. “—Smeared with oil like David’s boy. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.”

When Ran stepped into view, Lillian’s grin widened.

The bi-colored-haired omega froze. His eyes took in the man’s face, his bright grin, his hair, the unmistakable energy radiating from him.

This is—

“Byakuya! What took you so long?” Lillian’s laughter rang out as she was caught in the man’s arms. She looked up at him, eyes sparkling like moonlight on water.

“I had to take care of something,” Byakuya replied, his tone light. Then his gaze fell on the kits, who immediately perked up at the sight of him. Their tiny noses twitched as they made cheerful little noises, clearly delighted.

“Hey, how’s my sweet little moon rabbits?” Byakuya greeted warmly, crouching down. “You’ve been having fun, huh? Hehe, gran—”

A gentle nudge to his side from Lillian cut him off. She subtly tilted her head toward Gen, who was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You’re—” Gen’s voice wavered, the words catching in his throat as recognition settled in. The man standing before him was unmistakably his mate’s father.

“Oh! Yes, I’m Ran—” Byakuya began, scratching the back of his neck.

“Byakuya-chan!” Gen blurted, his tone a mix of surprise and disbelief.

Byakuya froze mid-motion, blinking as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. His gaze darted to Lillian, mouth slightly agape. She simply gave a small nod, as though confirming what he hoped—that whatever had once clouded Gen’s memory was now gone.

Byakuya’s face lit up with joy. He snapped his head back toward Gen and nearly shouted, “Geeeeennn! You can finally see me! You even know my name—although I still don’t mind if you call me Ran-chan. Or even father! You are my son’s mate, after all, and the—”

“Don’t overwhelm him, darling,” Lillian interrupted gently.

Byakuya chuckled, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright… I’m just too excited!”

Gen watched as Byakuya stepped closer, the older man’s eyes scanning him with a quiet satisfaction, as though taking stock of something only he understood. When he stopped in front of him, Byakuya cupped Gen’s cheeks, his grin bright and almost teasing.

“Look at you—still glowing as ever! My son is really lucky to have you by his side.”

“Oh! N-no, I’m lucky to have Senku-chan…” Gen stammered, heat rising to his cheeks. There was something about the way Byakuya was looking at him that made him self-conscious, like the man knew a secret Gen didn’t.

Byakuya’s smile softened as he released his face, his palm ruffling Gen’s hair in a fond, almost fatherly gesture. “Please, make sure to take better care of yourself. You’re surrounded by people who love and care about you.” His hand drifted lower, brushing over the two kits resting in the makeshift pouch. His voice dropped to a warm murmur. “And remember—you’re not just looking out for yourself anymore. These little ones need you, too.”

Gen’s breath hitched. Something in his chest gave an odd, startled flutter. Not just looking out for myself…?

“They absolutely adore you!” Lillian jumped in with a bright smile, pinching Byakuya’s back playfully.

“Ow—yes, that’s true!” Byakuya laughed, rubbing at the spot, but his eyes never fully left Gen’s face. “Senku, too. You should tell your mate about what happened. He’s going to figure it out eventually—either by piecing the clues together himself, or because that white-haired alpha tells him. It’s better if he hears it from you.”

“I’m sure you don’t need us to explain how important communication is,” Lillian added, tone light but meaningful.

Byakuya’s expression gentled even further, his gaze steady. “You and Senku are mates—bonded, forever intertwined. You’re a family now. There’s no reason to keep secrets from each other. Trust him, and let him trust you. Share your worries, your fears, your concerns—the same way he should share his with you. Talk to each other.”

Gen nodded slowly, but his mind was caught on his earlier words—you’re not just looking out for yourself anymore. They were meant to be comforting, he was sure… but there was a weight to them that made his heart race with an unfamiliar, uneasy curiosity.

Gen glanced down to the kits in his makeshift pouch, and sure enough, they were already staring up at him. The stars from the night sky reflected in their irises. These little ones too…?

“Oh, guess it’s about time,” Byakuya announced with a soft, almost wistful smile. Gen looked up, the world around them beginning to fade into a bright light. The omega instinctively hugged the kits closer to his chest.

“I’m afraid it’ll be a while before we meet again,” Byakuya murmured, lips pressing together. His gaze lingered on the kits… then flicked briefly to Gen’s stomach before returning to the little ones. “They’ve grown a bit… just like they’re supposed to.”

Gen frowned faintly at the look, an odd thought passing through his mind before he shook it off.

“They’ll be going with you this time,” Byakuya reassured, catching the flicker of worry in Gen’s eyes. “You won’t leave without them.” His tone was certain—fond, but weighted with something unspoken. He crouched to the kits’ level and whispered something too soft for Gen to catch, though the omega was sure it was part encouragement, part warning.

When Byakuya straightened, his arms folded as if to stop himself from scooping them up again. “You’re going to have your hands full,” He said with a faint chuckle. “Best start getting used to that.”

Lillian rubbed his back in comfort before smiling at Gen. “I think it’s about time you start coming up with names.”

“Names?” Gen echoed.

“Byakuya still insists on calling this one BunBun—” Lillian scratched the cheek of the mottled black-and-white kit, then repeated the gesture for the snowy white one. “—and this one HunHun.”

Gen’s lips twitched into a smile despite himself.

“What? It’s cute!” Byakuya grinned, clearly pleased with his own idea. “Honey Bunny, HunHun… BunBun. See?” His eyes softened, and his voice dropped slightly. “My sweet little moon rabbits—”

That odd feeling returned to Gen at his choice of words, but before he could ask, his body was already starting to fade. His vision blurred, the warmth in the air thickening into peace. Byakuya and Lillian’s voices grew muffled.

“—grandpa is going to miss youu!!!”

_______

September 26th, 5741 AD

Gen woke with a start, his heart giving a small, startled thump. His hands instinctively reached to his side, searching for the familiar warmth of Senku—only to find cool, empty sheets.

A faint sigh slipped past his lips before he pushed himself upright, the quiet disappointment settling like a pebble in his chest.

With a languid stretch and a yawn, Gen swung his legs over the side of the bed. Today was the day—they were finally leaving the island and returning to the mainland. Now that the Medusa was in their possession, they could use it on Tsukasa, restoring him and healing the wound that had once been fatal.

The thought brought a small smile to his face. Mirai had been overjoyed when she heard the news. Surely, by now, she was waiting eagerly for their return.

After two weeks and a day on Treasure Island, it felt as though they’d overstayed their welcome. The crew’s homesickness was no secret, their restless energy a clear sign they longed for familiar ground.

Gen walked out onto the deck of the Perseus, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help but think back to his dream—the singing, the dancing, the breathtaking scenery, the two adorable kits, and most of all, Byakuya and Lillian.

He still wasn’t sure why they appeared in his dreams, but the memory felt vivid and real.

“Gen!” Amaryllis’s voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned just as the fellow omega approached, a mischievous glint in her eyes and something hidden behind her back.

“Right on time, Amaryllis,” Kohaku greeted warmly, stepping forward. Ukyo joined Gen’s side with a quiet, knowing smile.

“Is it time already?” Kirisame asked softly as she settled nearby, her gaze briefly flicking to Gen’s midsection before looking away.

“Gen, I wanted to gift these to you and Senku,” Amaryllis said, revealing two beautifully crafted seashell wind chimes. The care and thought in their design was immediately clear. Gen accepted the gifts, smiling gratefully.

“I’m so embarrassed—I didn’t prepare anything for you, Amaryllis-chan,” Gen admitted, holding the chimes in each hand and admiring the intricate designs.

“No, it’s fine! I’m sure I’ll get a nice surprise from you later, so make sure you visit me, okay?” Amaryllis said with a knowing smile that lingered just a moment too long.

Gen raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. He huffed softly, half-joking, “You sound way too sure I’ll be gifting you something…”

The others exchanged subtle, silent glances — Kohaku’s eyes twinkled, Ukyo’s smile deepened, Kirisame’s lips curved just slightly, and Amaryllis’s grin grew more playful — as if sharing a secret just beyond Gen’s understanding.

“I know so,” Amaryllis smiled teasingly. “I made a few extra, so I gave one to Suika, Ukyo, and Kohaku.”

Gen glanced at Ukyo and Kohaku, noticing their very different reactions. Ukyo flushed slightly and lowered his hat to hide his face, while Kohaku tossed her arms with a confident smile. Gen found Ukyo’s reaction suspicious and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Suddenly, one of the crew members shouted that it was time to go. Amaryllis flinched, her smile fading into sadness. She quickly hugged Gen before stepping away. “You guys better tell me all about your adventures!”

They all watched as she descended the boarding ramp and stepped onto the island’s shore. A few crew members pulled up the ramp, and the rest scattered to their stations.

Soon enough, the Perseus began to sail away from the island. The crew and islanders waved and shouted their goodbyes, their voices growing faint as the ship drifted farther out to sea.

Gen waved tearfully at Amaryllis, who cupped her cheeks and shouted words he couldn’t make out over the distance. He watched as the expressions of those around her shifted from surprise to amusement—especially Soyuz, who stood nearby, turning bright red at whatever she said.

Gen turned to Ukyo, hoping for some clarity. “What did she say?”

The white-haired omega immediately avoided his gaze, stretching out his arms with a yawn as he started walking toward the comms room. Over his shoulder, he called back, “I couldn’t catch what she said—between everyone yelling and the waves crashing… Guess we’ll find out when we visit her again.”

Gen watched Ukyo disappear through the door.

He then turned to Kohaku, who was already nudging Kirisame forward. “Kirisame, how about I give you a tour of the ship and show you where we keep everything?”

“But…” Kirisame hesitated.

“We’ll meet up in the comms room, Gen!” Kohaku interrupted quickly. “Bye!”

Gen had been growing increasingly puzzled by their odd behavior over the past few days—especially since they revived Matsukaze. During a recent walk, after asking Kohaku to let him go alone, he ran into Ukyo. He still remembered the shocked expression on the blonde beta’s face as he bid the women farewell. Kirisame and Amaryllis were deep in conversation about something that had clearly unsettled Kohaku enough to want to chase after him, but Francois had stopped her.

Gen still didn’t know what it was all about. The pieces didn’t quite fit, and no matter how much he tried to read their expressions or catch stray comments, the truth remained just out of reach.

_________

Bonus+

-Amaryllis : The Actress’ Intervention

One of the village elders spotted the bi-colored haired omega and smiled as they approached him. They seemed quite surprised but overall happy to meet the pregnant male omega. It was a joyous occasion—their leader was a lucky alpha to have such a prosperous and fertile mate.

“Excuse me, Gen, right?”

Gen looked up and smiled, confirming his name. “Yes, that’s me. Do you need my help with something?”

“No, dear, please enjoy your snacks!” The elder chuckled and shook their head. “I just wanted to congratulate you and your mate on your—”

“Aaahhhhh!” Amaryllis shouted as she quickly hurried to the old omega’s side. “Elder Coral! Isla has been looking everywhere for you! She needs your help with some important village matters—it cannot wait!”

Amaryllis began guiding the old lady away from Gen, who watched as the elder spluttered in shock. “Wait—Amaryllis! I’m sorry, Gen. I hope we can chat later—”

“It’s urgent! Let’s go!” Amaryllis exclaimed.

Gen watched in silence as he chewed on a piece of apple. “Huh… wonder what that was about.”

-Kohaku: A Warrior’s Guide To No Argument

Senku studied the blueprint he had carefully drafted, double-checking for any adjustments. If their goal was to build a rocket, they needed a base and a test site where they could launch freely. Treasure Island was the perfect spot. He planned to leave this project in the capable hands of the islanders—and he had a hunch that Soyuz would want to stay.

“Ah, young alpha leader,” An older gentleman greeted him. Senku looked up from the blueprint, folded the paper, and faced the man.

“I haven’t had the chance to properly thank you for what you and your people did. You’re truly admirable!” The old alpha praised. “Even amidst the dangers you and your mate faced, the challenges—you didn’t waver at all!”

Senku raised both eyebrows, smiled, and nodded. Lately, the islanders had been thanking him so much it was starting to feel repetitive. Gen had told him that if he got tired of it, he should just smile and nod to avoid seeming rude.

“Yes, you two will make amazing par—” The old man was interrupted as Kohaku landed abruptly in front of him.

“Senku! You’re needed back on the ship! One of the machines stopped working. Kaseki and Chrome are already busy with whatever science project you assigned them,” Kohaku sighed loudly.

“Did it stop working, or did someone break it?” Senku crossed his arms.

Kohaku’s lips curled into a feline smirk. “Yo and Magma were fighting… Magma broke it.”

Senku’s mood soured, and he quickly apologized to the old man. “Sorry, I have to go. We can finish our conversation later.”

He turned and marched down the beach with a ticked-off expression, no doubt ready to yell at Magma. Kohaku glanced toward the islander and grinned menacingly.

-Kirisame: The Silent Protector

There was a strange rumor among the islanders: if you approached the couple, Senku and Gen, mysterious objects would be thrown at you.

Naturally, some decided to test their luck.

“Hey, Gen—ow!” One of the warriors yelped, rubbing his head as a coconut bounced to the sand beside him.

From afar, Kirisame casually juggled another coconut in her hand, ready to fire again. In her mind, it was the most effective way to keep nosy passersby at bay—two solid throws, and most people ran for their lives.

Gen, of course, remained blissfully unaware of the silent coconut war raging just meters away, which to Kirisame only proved she was doing an excellent job.

“Hey, Senku!” Oarashi’s booming voice carried across the shore. “I heard you have a preg—”

Kirisame didn’t let him finish. She swung her arm back and hurled the coconut with all her strength, eyes gleaming with a killer’s intent.

Thunk!

Oarashi collapsed in the sand, out cold.

Senku turned at the noise, raising an eyebrow at Chrome, who only shrugged before they both went back to their work.

That should do it, Kirisame thought, rolling her shoulders and scanning the area for the next fool who might need a gentle… correction.

She took her role as protective guardian seriously—perhaps more seriously than anyone else realized. The others really should’ve expected as much.

Whenever she crossed paths with Kohaku or Amaryllis, they would share a knowing smile, their expressions full of approval.

Ukyo, on the other hand, simply sighed as if resigned to her methods, but he still gave her a silent thumbs-up before going about his business.

Francois, of course, didn’t react at all. The butler simply carried on, unruffled, as though Kirisame’s flying projectiles were just another logical, necessary precaution.

To Kirisame, that was the closest thing to a compliment she’d get from them—and she’d take it.

-Ukyo: The Unapproachable Archer

Ukyo smiled faintly as he ran the whetstone along the edge of his arrows. Just ahead of him, Senku and Gen sat together, eating and chatting in their usual easy rhythm. Their atmosphere gave the impression it would be rude to interrupt—at least, that’s what anyone would say out loud.

The real deterrent was the white-haired omega himself. There was something unnerving about the way Ukyo sharpened his arrows with that calm smile, while his mate, Ryusui, spoke loudly and occasionally leaned over to feed him.

Whenever an islander so much as took a step toward the group, Ukyo’s gaze would lock onto them instantly. For a brief, chilling moment, his eyes carried a silent warning—a line they would be wise not to cross—before he returned to his work as if nothing had happened.

Taiju, Yuzuriha, Chrome, and Kaseki remained oblivious to the subtle intimidation in play. Nikki, however, caught it and simply shot Ukyo a weird look before turning back to her meal.

“Senku-chan!” Gen laughed at something his mate said and gave the alpha a playful smack on the shoulder. Senku, as usual, looked far too pleased with himself.

“What? You know it’s true,” Senku said with a shrug.

“I know, but still… it’s ean-may…” Gen tried—and failed—to smother his laughter.

Ukyo caught the mix of Kinro, Ginro, and Matsukaze’s names in the conversation and followed Gen’s glance toward the trio. Ginro was enthusiastically recounting their journey on the mainland, adding enough exaggeration to make himself seem like the hero of the tale. Matsukaze listened with rapt attention, eating up every word.

Kinro sat beside Kirisame and not far from his younger brother and the samurai, his eyes fixed on the pair without saying a word.

Ukyo hummed quietly, turning his attention back to Senku and Gen, who were subtly gesturing toward the scene he’d just witnessed.

“So, want to tell me what’s going on?” Ryusui lowered his voice, leaning closer. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and the others moving in secrecy these past two days.”

“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it, sunshine,” Ukyo replied instantly. His gaze flicked toward an alpha walking along the edge of the group. The man paused mid-step, met Ukyo’s eyes, and immediately looked away before disappearing into the forest.

“You only call me ‘sunshine’ when you’re dodging a conversation,” Ryusui said with a frown, though his voice softened with a sigh. “Something’s going on with Senku and Gen that’s got you, Francois, Kohaku, and those two islanders staying on guard. You know how sharp my instincts are, Ukyo.”

“I love how you can be both brilliant and oblivious at the same time,” Ukyo said with a fleeting smile before looking away. “You’ll find out soon enough, Ryu. For now, I just want us to enjoy the peace… before everything flips on its head. Think of it as the calm before the storm—that’s all I can say.”

“Fine. You know how much I trust you—” Ryusui began, but his words cut off when a cocky alpha stepped into their circle, smiling as he approached Senku and Gen.

“Senku, Gen! You two are the talk of the island, and I don’t think I’ve had the chance to—”

Ukyo moved before anyone could blink—bow in hand, arrow nocked, string drawn back in one smooth motion. He released.

The arrow whistled past the alpha’s cheek and thudded deep into the tree behind him.

The islander froze, sweat beading at his temple. “You know what? On second thought, I’m just gonna—” He spun on his heel and bolted into the forest.

“Holy shit, Ukyo!” Chrome blurted.

“Ah, sorry! Slippery fingers!” Ukyo said with a sheepish laugh.

Ryusui stared at him, eyes wide, mouth parted. It wasn’t fear he felt—it was something else entirely. The golden-haired alpha looked downright lovestruck.

“I love you,” Ryusui declared shamelessly.

Ukyo’s cheeks warmed. “I love you too—”

“I want you to rid—” Ryusui began, his voice low and intent, gaze searing into him.

Ukyo’s ears flushed crimson. He slapped a hand over his mate’s unfiltered mouth. “Later.”

-Francois: A Butler’s Efficacy

“Ugh… I had no idea how tiring this was gonna be,” Amaryllis groaned, her cheek pressed against the cool countertop of the long dining table.

“Tell me about it. I’m almost out of excuses to keep Senku from getting cornered into a congratulatory pregnancy conversation,” Kohaku muttered, sipping her drink. She propped her elbow on the table, head in hand, looking every bit as drained as Amaryllis felt.

“Where are Senku and Gen, anyway? I haven’t seen either of them,” Kirisame asked, her gaze drifting around the massive dining hall. Even now, the female alpha was quietly impressed by the sheer size of the place.

“Master Gen took young Master Suika to his quarters for an afternoon nap,” Francois replied smoothly from the kitchen. “Master Senku is currently in the lab with Master Chrome. There will be a performance this evening, so I’ve ensured everyone remains… productively occupied.”

“Perfect—Gen’s asleep and Senku’s distracted.” Kohaku stretched her arms high above her head, her grin returning.

“We still need to stay alert—” Ukyo started, only to break off in a wide yawn.

“There’s no need to concern yourself,” Francois assured, voice carrying over the soft clink of cookware. “I’ve made certain no rumors have reached anyone aboard the Perseus.”

“Wait—” Amaryllis pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking. “You guys are leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yes—” Kohaku started with a smile, but it faltered when she caught the seriousness in Amaryllis’s expression.

“You’ve all been gone for two weeks—away from your homeland and your people…” Amaryllis tilted her head slightly, her voice measured and deliberate. “When you return, don’t you think those who stayed behind will notice the change in Gen’s scent… especially after being apart from it for so long?”

“Oh no… you’re right…” Kohaku groaned, forehead thunking onto the table with a dull thud.

Ukyo froze mid-sip, the polite smile on his face turning oddly stiff. “It’ll be fine. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? I’ve heard you have quite a few allies—” Kirisame brought a hand up beneath her chin, her eyes curious.

“I’ll take care of it.” Ukyo’s tone left no room for argument.

“I can think of plenty of ways to keep them distracted,” Francois chimed in as they emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with neatly arranged snacks. “Though I suspect we’ll have little time for such measures. Master Senku’s plan to gather materials from across the globe for his rocket has already been set in motion. I doubt we’ll remain in one place for long.”

Francois set the tray before them with practiced elegance, the scent of freshly baked pastries softening the edge of the conversation.

“We shouldn’t worry too much about it, or else we’ll just end up restless,” Francois said with a soft smile. “I have a hunch Master Gen will figure it out sooner than we think. When that time comes, we need to be ready. There’s no telling how the news will affect him.”

“You’re right. Gen’s already been asking questions about what’s happening with his body… He told me when I ran into him… among other things,” Ukyo said, grabbing one of the pastries.

Kohaku munched thoughtfully on her treat. “I wonder what it’ll take—the final blow—that makes Gen piece the last part of the puzzle together.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll be ready to help him,” Francois replied swiftly, determination clear in their voice.

Chapter Text

September 26th, 5741 AD

Gen’s gaze lingered on his mates longer than he’d like to admit. They were gathered in the comms room for a debriefing, going over everything that had happened during their time on Treasure Island.

Ukyo pointed out that the Soyuz spacecraft had three seats, which meant their own rocket would likely have the same. The real question was who would be chosen for the journey to the moon to confront Why-Man.

Ryusui, radiating unshakable confidence, immediately declared himself the official pilot. Senku added that they’d need a scientist—but everyone knew he was just dressing up the fact that he’d be going as well.

It was inevitable. Gen knew that.

Long before they’d become mates, he had known Senku’s dream of reaching the moon. Gen would be a fool to stand in the way of that dream. But that didn’t mean he had to like it—especially when he was almost certain there was an unspoken risk: the possibility that the chosen three might never return.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Ukyo’s expression. It seemed he wasn’t the only one with that fear.

The two omegas quietly decided not to voice their concerns and dampen the morale. They were already on their way back to their homeland to recruit their mightiest warrior—the one who would fill the last seat in the moon mission trio: Tsukasa.

Eventually, Senku lost patience and kicked the rest of the group out of the comms room. His grudge against Magma, it seemed, had hardly lessened.

All it took was a single heated glare from Senku to send Magma stalking out of the room without a word. Yo snickered at the sight—only for Magma to grab him by the collar and drag him along.

Kinro followed after his brother and Matsukaze, determined to keep a close eye on the pair. Kohaku invited Kirisame to join her and Nikki for a bit of training to pass the time until they reached Japan.

Kaseki and Chrome, fired up with inspiration, headed for the lab to brainstorm their own “rocket ship” ideas—primitive versions, of course.

Gen’s gaze lingered as Francois gently guided Suika toward the door.

“How about we prepare something for them in the kitchen, Master Suika?” he heard Francois say just before the door shut behind them.

And then, it was only Gen, Senku, Ukyo, and Ryusui left in the comms room.

Ryusui stood by the helm, arms crossed, gazing out the window. Ukyo remained in his seat, chair turned away from the radar so he could face Gen and Senku. Senku leaned against the table behind him, while Gen stood at the center of the room.

There was something unspoken in the air—heavy, expectant, and impossible to ignore.

Gen shifted where he stood, tugging the purple sleeves of his overcoat up toward his mouth. The silence was killing him—thick, awkward, and far too heavy. If anyone was expected to break it, it would be him.

“You know…” Ukyo began, and Gen silently thanked his friend. “I think it’s about time we talk about what really went down between you and Ibara—and why you were both acting strange.”

“I’m curious too.” Gen padded over toward Ukyo. “Why wasn’t I revived on the island? The only explanation we came up with was that our statues were used as leverage.”

Ukyo nodded, then looked toward Ryusui.

“I was going to tell you one of these days,” Senku said, pushing himself away from the table. “So now’s as good a time as any, Gen.”

“In a way, you’re right,” Ryusui added, his expression tight. “Ibara discovered that you two are our respective mates. He made a comment before I was petrified again—it stuck with me. After Senku revived me, he gave me the rundown on what happened. Then I saw your statue, Ukyo.” Ryusui stepped closer to his mate, his voice sharpening.

“Just like he did to mine, he threw away your hat. And he… spread his scent all over you. It lingered most on my mark—the one I gave you.” Ryusui’s fists clenched tighter with each word, frustration burning into anger.

Gen’s eyes widened. He glanced down at Ukyo, who wore a stunned expression. But when Ukyo looked up, his gaze wasn’t shaken—it was concerned. Concerned for Gen.

That realization made Gen take an instinctive step back.

If that had happened to Ukyo, then the same thing must have happened to him. A shiver ran over Gen’s skin, goosebumps prickling along his arms. He snapped his head toward his mate.

“Senku-chan?”

He needed to hear it from him.

“…Gen.” Senku let out a deep sigh and stepped closer. “He put his filthy hands on you. Figured you might have revival fluid, so he emptied your pockets. He took your deck of cards…” Senku’s brows drew tight as his jaw clenched. “He smelled me on you, put two and two together, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw your mating mark.”

Gen’s lips pressed into a thin line, his skin prickling at the revelation. His chest tightened as Senku’s arms wrapped around him.

“I was livid when he talked about you,” Senku murmured, voice low and tense. “I lost my focus on the mission. I was seconds away from killing him.” His arms tightened, protective and unyielding, before he spread his scent into Gen’s skin.

“I managed to snap out of it. After I petrified him, the first thing I thought about was checking on you. I was terrified he’d done something worse—that he’d smashed your statue and scattered your pieces everywhere…” Senku’s voice caught, the steel in it crumbling as the fight bled out of him.

Gen’s hands fisted in the fabric of Senku’s tunic, his brows knitting as his mate’s nose pressed into the crook of his neck.

“When I saw you intact, I was relieved… until I noticed your belongings scattered. And then I smelled him on you.” Senku’s voice hardened, quiet but seething. “I hated it. It was wrong.”

He finally pulled back, cupping Gen’s cheek in one warm palm, his thumb brushing over the spot where the petrification scar had once been. The intensity in Senku’s eyes—raw and unguarded—made Gen catch his own bottom lip between his teeth.

“I made sure to get rid of it completely,” Senku said with conviction. “I didn’t stop until his filthy scent was gone—until you smelled like you again.”

“He didn’t do anything else besides search for the revival fluid…” Senku lied, unwilling to tell Gen that the old alpha had licked him. Instead, his voice hardened with resolve. “No one puts their hands on my mate and gets away with it.”

Gen relaxed. He trusted Senku. His words eased him, but the discomfort still lingered. First Moz… and now Ibara. That’s right—he still hadn’t told Senku about what happened on the staircase.

“When we’re petrified, a stone layer envelops our bodies. It acts like a shield,” Ukyo said, voice calm but steady. “Ibara’s scent only clung to our clothes—not our skin.”

Then his eyes narrowed. His fist tightened slowly, deliberately, until the tendons in his hand stood out and the faint sound of knuckles popping broke the stillness. A smile touched his lips, but it was cold—devoid of warmth. “Ibara will make the perfect dummy for target practice. I never miss my mark.”

Ukyo wasn’t thinking about himself—he was more enraged that Ibara had dared to touch a pregnant Gen. He could feel his moral compass tilting, cracking under the weight of that anger. And now, with the knowledge of Gen’s unborn pup, he knew one thing for certain: no one would ever lay a hand on them again.

Gen’s lips curved into a faint smile at Ukyo’s words. They made sense. More than that—they felt like a promise.

Gen let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The omega gently took the hand Senku had cupped against his cheek and brought it down, then captured the other, lacing their fingers together between them. His thumbs traced over Senku’s knuckles, slow and deliberate.

If they were going to journey across the world, like Soyuz had said—“they need fierce warriors”—then they couldn’t afford to be picky. They’d need people who could fight when everything went to hell. With Tsukasa’s revival only hours away, Gen had no doubt the alpha would keep chaos in check… but after today, Gen knew there was someone else they should be thinking about.

Senku’s gaze flicked toward him, sensing the shift in his scent—a subtle cocktail of resolve and unease—just as Ukyo stood, hooked an arm through Ryusui’s, and began steering him toward the door.

“It’s okay, Ukyo-chan. No need to leave.” Gen’s smile was soft, almost teasing, but there was weight in his tone. “Actually, it’d be etter-bay if Ryusui-chan hears this too. I know it’ll come down to a vote, so maybe what I’m about to say will make things clearer.”

Ukyo hesitated, then murmured, “I can tolerate Hyoga…” His hand came to rest over his chest, fingers brushing lightly against the scar beneath his shirt. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Even if I have this because of him, he’s… alright, for helping you.” His gaze sharpened, the warmth in his eyes cooling to something more watchful. “But I’ll still keep an eye on him.”

Senku opened his mouth to speak. “What—”

Gen cut him off, tightening his hold on their joined hands until his own pulse thudded against Senku’s skin. “The reason I was pale, shaken, and unresponsive… is because…” His gaze dropped, lashes shadowing his eyes. “Moz-chan was about to kill me—”

Senku’s pheromones slammed into the room like a thunderclap—burning ozone and sharp metal—twisting with anger, shock, protectiveness, and a dangerous edge of fear. The air felt heavier, thick enough to taste.

“—or at least strike a fatal blow,” Gen continued, voice quieter now but steady. “If Hyoga-chan hadn’t jumped in like some kind of superhero, I wouldn’t be here.” He finally looked up, meeting Senku’s eyes, the heat of their bond pulling tight between them. “He saved my life. And I’m grateful.”

Senku’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, as if reassuring himself that Gen was still there—warm, breathing, his.

“Moz was going to kill you?” Senku’s voice was quiet, weighted like lead. The air shifted—cold, sharp—before Gen even answered.

Gen could only stare at his mate’s face—his pinched expression, the tense jaw, the way he bit his bottom lip so hard it nearly broke skin. The alpha’s brows knitted so tightly together that Gen swore he’d end up with wrinkles.

Then, without warning, the tension in Senku’s expression cracked. The anger didn’t vanish—it broke into something more desperate. His scent shifted too, sharpness giving way to a surge of worry so thick it nearly drowned Gen. “Why didn’t you tell me, Gen?” he asked, voice raw.

“I couldn’t exactly tell you in that moment. I was still… processing it. And when you asked, I didn’t want to put more weight on your shoulders—” Gen’s lips trembled as he looked away.

“Add any more weight?” Senku’s hands slid up his arms, grip firm and possessive. His scent deepened, warm and intense, wrapping around Gen like a shield. “You’re talking like you think you’re a burden. You’re not. You could never be. You’re my mate. My number one priority. Whether it’s something small or life-or-death—you come first. Always.

Gen’s lips parted, then pressed together in a faint pout as his eyes began to well. He could be such a selfless idiot sometimes, thinking he was sparing Senku when all he’d really done was suffer in silence. Talking to Ukyo had helped, but he still needed to learn to lean on others—especially his mate. The whole “mate” thing was still new to him, but he’d get there. Usually, he was the one who knew what to say, the one people came to for comfort… and yet here was Senku, holding him together.

Senku pulled him in without hesitation. One hand pressed against the small of his back, the other threading into his hair. His pheromones flooded Gen’s senses—warm, grounding, safe—until the lump in Gen’s throat nearly choked him. His arms curled tight around Senku’s shoulders, fingers clutching at his tunic, and he let the tears fall.

“I was so scared, Senku-chan,” he whispered, voice so small it barely stirred the air—but the alpha’s scent spiked again, protective and fierce, as his embrace tightened. “I froze. I couldn’t move.”

The tears came silently, but his shaky breaths filled the quiet. “Look at me…” Gen tried to laugh, but it came out weak. “…I’m an adult, yet here I am crying like a baby.”

“Your feelings are valid,” Senku murmured, his voice low and steady. “Cry, whine—hell, throw a tantrum if you want. You’re allowed to feel. That’s what you told me, right, Mentalist?” His cheek brushed against Gen’s hair, fingers stroking soothing patterns into his scalp.

“Mmm, Senku-chan’s going to leave me with no job…” Gen chuckled wetly.

“I learned from the best,” Senku snorted, his scent softening with amusement. “But no, I’m not taking your job. I don’t want to deal with people.”

Senku shifted his head until their foreheads touched. “I haven’t been doing a good job protecting you,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. But that will change—I promise you.”

“Senku-chan—” Gen’s voice was soft but firm. He hated hearing that. It was nonsense. Senku had done an incredible job protecting him; it wasn’t his fault Gen had a talent for landing himself in risky situations.

“You’re not alone in this, Senku.” Ukyo’s voice cut in, quiet but steady. “A lot of people care about Gen. None of us want to see him hurt. We’ll keep an eye on him when you’re not around.”

“That’s right! No harm will come to Gen, not on our watch.” Ryusui grinned, his brown eyes holding more than bravado—there was gratitude there, too. Gratitude for what Senku had done while they were petrified, and for defending Ryusui’s mate when he couldn’t.

“Wait, that’s not necessary—” Gen started, pulling back to glance between Ukyo and Ryusui.

“It’s very necessary, Gen.” Ukyo’s tone left no room for debate. The white-haired omega wouldn’t accept a single protest from his pregnant friend. “Very.”

He set a hand on his hip. “In fact, once we get off the ship, you’re sticking reeeal close to me. Like, really close.” He gave Gen a closed-eyed smile that didn’t quite hide his intent.

No one else noticed, but Ukyo was already dreading that moment. The second they set foot on shore, he knew eyes would turn their way. The alphas and omegas who’d been left behind would immediately catch the change in Gen’s scent—now far sweeter than before. It hadn’t been noticeable prior to their time apart, but after weeks away, the difference would be undeniable. The thought alone had Ukyo quietly tying himself into knots, stress simmering beneath his calm exterior.

“Thank you,” Senku murmured to the pair, offering a small but genuine smile.

When they returned to Japan, the Perseus crew was immediately swarmed the moment they stepped off the boarding ramp. Cheers and cries of joy erupted from all sides—those who had stayed behind were overjoyed to see their friends safe again. Some clung to each other, sobbing in relief. Others stared, wide-eyed, noticing how the petrification marks that had once marred the crew’s skin were now gone.

No one was happier than Mirai, who could barely contain her excitement, knowing her brother would soon be revived.

The joy quieted only slightly when Senku announced his plan for Tsukasa’s revival. He admitted that using the Medusa was risky—its battery was nearly drained. But Kirisame quickly countered, claiming it could still work. Senku shook his head, explaining that when he’d last given the command for five meters, the device had only discharged one. That revelation left Kirisame—and everyone else—stunned.

Now it made sense why Senku hadn’t used it to heal his own scars and injuries; every last drop of power had been reserved for Tsukasa.

A small group broke off to head toward the waterfall where Tsukasa’s body lay in cold storage. Gen kept pace beside Ukyo, feeling eyes on him from the moment he’d stepped onto shore. The sensation crawled along his skin, and when he glanced around, he caught brief, sharp stares. But just as quickly, people would avert their gaze the instant Ukyo’s calm, watchful eyes swept their way.

Ruri’s gaze lingered on him, warm and full of awe. Minami’s, however, was harder to read—wide-eyed and stunned, her expression only seemed to grow more exaggerated each time their eyes met.

Gen brushed his fingers over the smooth skin where his petrification mark had been, his voice low enough for only himself. Do I really look so strange without it?

When they reached the waterfall, Taiju was the first to descend, gripping the rope tied to a sturdy tree trunk. Chrome followed, then Senku, Mirai, Nikki, Kinro—one by one, the cave below grew more and more crowded.

When it was Gen’s turn to take the rope, Ukyo’s quiet voice cut through the noise. “How about we wait for the others up here?”

The tone was casual, but Gen caught the faint tension beneath it.

“What? No, we have to—” Gen began, only to be cut off by Kohaku.

“I can carry him down. I mean, I used to haul a huge jug of hot spring water for Ruri every single day,” she said, crossing her arms in pride.

Ukyo stepped in before Gen could answer. “No. That’s an accident waiting to happen. It’s a long drop, and it’s not worth the risk.” His voice was sharper than usual, his gaze flicking down to Gen’s middle for just a fraction of a second.

Kohaku opened her mouth again, but Ukyo cut her off. “We wait. The cave’s overcrowded anyway.” He leaned against the tree, though his stance was too tense to be casual.

Gen frowned, brushing past them toward the rope. “You two can wait up here. I’ll just go down on my own.”

They both moved instantly.

“Wait—” Kohaku’s hand shot out toward him.

“Gen—” Ukyo’s jaw clenched hard enough to show the muscle.

But Gen ignored them, fingers tightening on the rope as he began his careful descent. Eally-ray, when had they become such worrywarts?

He reached the ledge without incident and stepped into the cave. The air was thick and damp, shadows clinging to the stone. Just in time, he saw Taiju guiding Mirai’s small hands to rest on her brother’s chest, his own large palms covering hers.

Their attention briefly flickered to the new arrivals before returning to the scene in front of them. Kohaku landed with a solid thud behind Gen and quickly skipped over to stand beside him. The blonde beta’s eyes lit up when she saw what they were doing.

“Great idea! Squeeze all your energy, Mirai! Even if it’s just a flicker!” Kohaku said enthusiastically, pumping both fists in the air.

Ukyo let out a tiny sigh once he stepped inside. At least they’d made it down without any incidents. Now the white-haired omega’s worry shifted to what came next—climbing back up. He glanced at Gen, assessing the faint signs most others would miss: the slight flush to his cheeks, the way his breathing quickened more than it should. Ukyo kept his mouth shut, but his thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.

Kohaku rushed forward and placed her hands over Mirai’s with a grin. Minami immediately protested, worried they’d crush the pup’s small hands.

“If it gives my brother a better chance of coming back, then they can crush me all they want. It’ll be worth it,” Mirai said with fierce determination, eyes fixed on her brother’s frozen face.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try at least,” Senku added with a chuckle. He placed a gentle, supportive hand above Kohaku’s. “If I get caught in the petrification light, then my marks and wounds will heal. Killing two birds with one stone.”

Gen smiled faintly and pushed up the purple sleeve on one arm as he walked over to the group gathered around Tsukasa. He squeezed between Taiju and Mirai, giving the pup a reassuring pat on the head before placing his hand atop his mate’s. “The odds aren’t nonexistent. Think of electric razors, cell phones—how sometimes, even when their batteries are dead, turning them off and on can still spark them back to life.”

Chrome placed his hand above Gen’s and curled his fingers. Then everyone spoke together:

“One meter, one second.”

In an instant, Tsukasa’s body was petrified once more, and everyone pulled away. Senku poured a bottle of revival fluid over the statue, the liquid glistening as it dripped down.

Everyone held their breath as the stone began to glow. A sharp crack echoed through the chamber. Tsukasa’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up, clutching the seashell bracelet his sister had made for him.

Everyone stepped back, giving the Shishio siblings space as Mirai cried in relief and Tsukasa pulled her close, murmuring reassurances the moment he stepped out of the box. It was a long-awaited reunion, and the emotion in the air was almost tangible. Gen felt his eyes sting, but he quickly blinked away the moisture—he wasn’t about to cry in front of everyone.

Nikki discreetly wiped her own tears, remarking on how the moment tugged at their hearts. Minami dabbed at her eyes as well, only for Nikki and Ruri to tease her about not joining the emotional display. Minami shook her head, muttering that family came first, but Ruri only smiled knowingly and steered her toward the tall, long-haired alpha standing nearby.

Nikki was caught off guard by the blonde omega’s strength, though Chrome simply shrugged and explained it wasn’t unusual—she was, after all, Kohaku’s older sister.

When the reunion settled, Tsukasa took a slow look around the cave, scanning every face. It was obvious from his slight frown that the sheer number of scents in the air was overwhelming.

Ukyo remained planted at Gen’s side, his hat tipped forward, his gaze never leaving the long-haired alpha.

Tsukasa’s eyes moved to the unfamiliar faces. He noted the alpha with the crescent shaped petrification mark, who stood protectively in front of what Tsukasa first assumed was a beta—but no, the stance, the subtle cues, the scent made it clear: an omega. Smugness radiated from the tilt of his chin, the glint in his eyes, as if daring the world to underestimate him.

Then his gaze landed on another blonde-haired omega standing near Kohaku, and the family resemblance was unmistakable.

But the most surprising figures were Ukyo, Gen, and Senku. Ukyo was no longer alone, no longer carrying the weight of holding the peace between people. The tension had left his shoulders; he seemed at ease now, content. Whoever his mate was, they suited him perfectly—the scent of the sea lingered around him like a quiet signature.

And then… Gen.

Tsukasa froze for a fraction of a second, studying the bi-colored-haired omega with open astonishment. Something about him was undeniably different. The change in scent was the first giveaway—he was mated now. And that scent was so clearly tied to one person: Senku.

His gaze flicked briefly to the smug alpha, who stood with arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. Then back to Gen.

The shift in the omega was striking. Tsukasa remembered the last time they’d met—Gen had been at what was likely the lowest point of his life. He’d worn his smile like armor, spoken in fluttering, careful words meant to please, never revealing more than he chose to. But now… now he stood relaxed, at ease, without the invisible weight pressing down on him. He was happy. He was mated. And—Tsukasa could smell it—he was carrying new life.

It was almost unbelievable.

Stepping forward, Tsukasa reached out and set a large hand gently atop Gen’s head, ruffling his hair.

Gen sputtered, eyes wide. “Tsukasa-chan?”

So much had changed during Tsukasa’s deep sleep. Fate, Tsukasa thought, had been strangely kind. He had revived Gen all that time ago and, without knowing it, sent him directly into Senku’s path. And now, here they stood.

“You’ve changed…” Tsukasa said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he treated Gen with an almost uncharacteristic gentleness. “I should’ve seen this coming— you and Senku… it makes sense.”

He glanced over his shoulder toward Senku, only to find the scientist frowning deeply. Senku clicked his tongue and strode over, looking seconds away from prying Tsukasa’s hand off Gen by force.

“I want to congratulate you both on your—” Tsukasa began, but his words trailed off when he caught the sharp, chilling look coming from Ukyo. The archer’s sea-green eyes were unreadable, but the silent warning in them was clear: don’t say it.

A moment later, Tsukasa felt his own hand being pulled away from Gen. Senku planted himself firmly in front of his mate, arms crossed in that calculated, territorial way of his, expression flat and annoyed.

“Why are you suddenly being buddy-buddy with my mate?” Senku asked coolly. “Gen mentioned you two met briefly before petrification, but you were never close.”

Behind him, Gen covered his mouth to hide a snort, peeking around Senku’s shoulder to give Tsukasa an apologetic smile. Senku let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hearing you say ‘congratulations’ just sounds so weird and formal. What are you, his blood relative?”

“Senku-chan…” Gen chided lightly, tone half-amused, half-scolding.

Ukyo cleared his throat before things could spiral. “Alright, I think it’s time we debrief Tsukasa on the situation.”

“Oh yeah.” Senku’s arms twitched slightly over his chest, his frown melting into that cocky smile. “We’re going to the moon.”

Tsukasa blinked at him in disbelief before letting out a low chuckle. Senku had changed—less guarded, more relaxed than Tsukasa remembered. And the way he looked at Gen… it was impossible not to notice the fondness there.

As the pair slipped into easy banter, Tsukasa caught the faintest shift in Kohaku and Ukyo’s expressions—subtle, fleeting, but tense. Kohaku’s gaze kept darting toward Gen, assessing, while Ukyo’s hand rested loosely near his hip, thumb tapping idly as though working through an unsolvable problem. Whatever this was, Tsukasa realized, there was something beneath the surface that neither Senku nor Gen had said aloud.

After Matsukaze had challenged Tsukasa, everyone climbed up the rope out of the cave. A few muttered about the climb—Ukyo even wondered aloud why Senku still hadn’t built a staircase or at least a ladder. Kohaku offered to carry a few people, asking Gen first for reasons he couldn’t fathom. He politely declined, making it up just fine, though a little more out of breath than usual.

They emerged just in time to watch Tsukasa defeat Matsukaze with almost effortless grace. Ginro’s earlier cockiness evaporated as he sank to his knees, green eyes wide in defeat, while Kinro stood behind him looking quietly satisfied.

Matsukaze bowed to Tsukasa with deep respect, drawing a growing crowd. Tsukasa turned to face Senku and the rest.

“Matsukaze is strong enough on his own. For me to join the Kingdom of Science now as a warrior would be a shameless act after my past sins. I obliterated countless statues all in the name of creating a world with my ideals—”

“Dude, would you get over it?” Senku cut him off with his usual bluntness.

Ukyo shook his head with a faint frown. “Senku couldn’t care less about the past—he’s already onto the next problem.”

“Besides, Yuzuriha was able to piece the statues back together!” Taiju added cheerfully.

Gen’s gaze lingered on Tsukasa’s downcast expression. It was good that the long-haired alpha wanted to repent; the remorse in his eyes was genuine.

Senku stepped up beside Gen, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing loosely in the air. “We can ruminate on that boring crap later until our hair falls out—right now, the fate of humanity’s at stake.”

Gen looked at his mate for a few quiet seconds, eyes tracing the fading petrification marks across his skin. A thought began to form in his mind—one that pushed the surrounding noise to the background.

“What about you, Senku? I’m not trying to be rude, but you can’t use the Medusa to heal your marks and wounds anymore since it ran out of battery,” Suika said, glancing up at the alpha. “So… you’re going to be stuck with that.”

Senku crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto one leg. “Yeah, I don’t really care about that.”

Gen smiled faintly and turned away, fishing a small container of ink from one of his many pockets. Even if his mate claimed it didn’t bother him, Gen knew better. It might be a small thing, but it mattered. Besides, without his own petrification mark, Gen felt almost naked — he’d grown used to it over the years.

“We’ll be fine. We’ll beat Why-Man and learn all his secrets. Dr. Stone will be ready on call,” Ryusui reassured from the side.

“Why is Senku-chan the only stylish one?” Gen teased, unscrewing the lid. He dipped two fingers into the ink and carefully drew his mark back onto his left cheek. Then he turned to face his mate with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No fair, I want some war paint too~”

Senku raised an eyebrow. “What’s the point of drawing them back on?”

“It’s the perfect symbolism,” Gen declared with mock drama, before his tone shifted into something steadier, more resolved. “The day we remove our war paint will be the day we’ve triumphed over the threat of petrification.”

The others lit up at the idea. Gen passed the ink to Taiju, who dipped his fingers in and eagerly smeared lines across his cheeks. “Yeah! This looks cool—I’m doing it too!”

“That doesn’t look anything like your old petrification marks,” Senku deadpanned.

Taiju just grinned. “Doesn’t matter! Battle mode!”

Yuzuhira quickly wiped Taiju’s face with a cloth, redrew his marks, and refreshed her own before passing the ink container along. One by one, everyone from Treasure Island who had healed from petrification restored their marks.

The container eventually made its way back to Gen. Smiling, the omega stepped toward Tsukasa and held it out. There was no way the long-haired alpha would refuse him.

“Why don’t you join us, Tsukasa-chan!” Gen coaxed with a teasing lilt.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those alphas who worry about their looks~” Gen’s lips curled into a smirk as he began circling Tsukasa like a cat.

From the side, Kohaku and Ukyo exchanged a subtle look—half amused, half uneasy. Kohaku shifted a step closer, ready to catch Gen if he stumbled. Ukyo’s eyes followed the omega’s every move, his posture unconsciously tense.

Senku stood nearby, arms folded, watching the scene with a faint, proud smile.

Tsukasa chuckled softly, dipping his fingers into the ink before drawing the familiar patterns across his skin. “Thank you, Gen—and everyone else.”

Cheers erupted as Tsukasa was officially welcomed into the Kingdom of Science, the group crowding around him in celebration.

“Next up—moon invasion!” Senku’s voice cut through the noise, his grin wide and eyes gleaming. “It’s us versus Why-Man, and to build our spaceship we’ll need materials you can bet aren’t lying around in Japan. We’re going around the world to get them, so get excited!”

“A world exploration party~?” Gen tapped a finger against his cheek thoughtfully, eyes glimmering. “If only we had a pro explorer…”

“Who do you think I am?!” Chrome’s ears perked instantly. “I’m the best when it comes to exploring! I’ll find all the materials we need—just leave it to me!”

Before Gen could respond, Chrome practically sprang forward, shoving the omega aside without a second thought.

Gen let out a startled yelp, stumbling—only for Senku’s hand to shoot out, steadying him before he could lose his balance.

“Chrome!” Kohaku’s voice cracked like a whip as she caught the brown-haired beta by the neck, giving him a few swift whacks to the head.

“Wha—ow! What did I do?!” Chrome whined, wincing.

Senku’s gaze lingered on Gen for a moment, a flicker of concern in his sharp eyes. “You good, Mentalist?”

Gen smoothed his hair and gave a light laugh, waving it off. “I’m fine, Chrome-chan’s just a little too excited.”

In the background, both Kohaku and Ukyo lingered near Chrome, standing just a little too close, their gazes sharp enough to make the beta shrink in on himself. As the crowd dispersed, the two exchanged a wordless sigh and a nod — a silent agreement. Kohaku peeled away toward her sister and Minami, leading them aside for what was clearly going to be a chat. Ukyo, however, stayed behind, his eyes tracking Gen with quiet vigilance, ears tuned to every sound.

“Seems like the lioness already scolded him on my behalf… he should still be careful.” Senku pinched the bridge of his nose, voice dry but tight with a hint of leftover irritation.

Gen, catching the tension, rubbed his mate’s back and gave him a light push. “Don’t orry-way about a small accident! I know you’re itching to run off and start planning our next trip.”

Senku’s gaze flicked up to Gen’s face, a faint frown pulling at his mouth. “Fine. I won’t be far. Just—don’t go wandering off and getting lost in the forest without me. I’d rather we be lost together. Better survival odds that way. I’m the jack of all trades.”

Gen covered his mouth in surprise, letting out a soft snort. “Senku-chan…” Without thinking, he threw his arms around the alpha, pressing his cheek tenderly against Senku’s. The sudden burst of affection caught even him off guard, though he chalked it up to the relief of the moment. “Okay, okay—if I ever want to get lost in the forest, I’ll come find you first, my dear~”

“As long as you know.” Senku huffed, a small smile tugging at his lips. They lingered a beat too long before parting, Gen’s hand brushing his mate’s arm as Senku turned away.

Gen watched as Senku disappeared into the lab. His mate would enter hyper-focus mode soon, meticulously planning what to take, restocking food, deciding which members would leave or stay, and mapping out every stop to gather materials for the rocket. Gen made a mental note to bring him food and drinks later, and to check on him—he wouldn’t let Senku get lost in all of that. He’d coax him into sleep if needed, and maybe drag him if necessary.

“Gen.” Tsukasa’s voice called from behind. Gen turned.

“You once betrayed me.”

“Hm?” Gen tilted his head in curiosity.

“Looking back, I thought my biggest mistake was reviving you.” Tsukasa lowered his head, a soft smile forming. “Not anymore. I’m glad you’re here. Siding with Senku was the best choice you’ve made, even if it caused my downfall.”

Gen raised an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh. “Would it make you more angry if I admitted I planned to side with Senku-chan the moment you mentioned him? Seeing the date carved on the tree was the dealbreaker. Watching Senku-chan bring the first light into the Stone Age just reassured my decision. I’ve never regretted it, not even a millimeter.”

Tsukasa studied him for a moment, expression calm, yet the sincerity and spark in Gen’s grey-blue eyes spoke volumes. He was speaking from the bottom of his heart.

Tsukasa huffed, amused. “This change suits you well, Gen. Senku is extremely lucky to have you by his side.” He let out a hearty laugh. “And I sent you to him… maybe I should’ve tied a ribbon on your head while I was at it.”

Gen covered his mouth, giggling. “Now you would’ve wanted to send me as a present?”

“Why not? I should’ve seen this coming miles away. If this was all it took for Senku to give in, I should’ve done a better job,” Tsukasa joked.

“Oh wow, Tsukasa-chan wants to use me as a honeypot to lure my dear Senku-chan into a trap~” Gen shook his head dramatically, sighing.

“I don’t think you need to. Seems like it works regardless,” Tsukasa said with a knowing smile. Their conversation quieted, and his face softened into a more fond expression. “You’re glowing, Gen.”

Gen froze at the words, his mind instantly recalling the dream from earlier—Byakuya had said something very similar.

“Ahem. Gen, why don’t we join Francois? They’re baking bread, and I’m sure they won’t mind if we snack while waiting for dinner,” Ukyo interjected before Tsukasa could say more.

At the mention of food, Gen’s stomach growled. He let out a sigh, lips pouting. “Ugh, I know I’m gaining weight, but I just can’t stop eating Francois-chan’s delicious food. What do I do, Ukyo-chan?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Ukyo moved to his friend’s side and gave a small pat on the back. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying good food—especially if it’s from Francois.”

“Ah, Ukyo. I’ve noticed that you also gained a mate. Ryusui, right?” Tsukasa asked, turning to the archer. “He kept staring at me intensely—I take it he doesn’t like me?”

“No, it’s not that,” Ukyo said, rubbing his forehead. “Ryusui will most likely recruit you. He tends to do that if he sees someone with skills he admires. Sorry if it bothers you. I swear he has good intentions… he’s just an idiot when it comes to showing them.”

Gen snickered. “Ryusui-chan is the greediest man in the world after all—desire is noble~”

“Alright, let’s get going, or else I’ll tell Francois not to give you food—” Ukyo began, guiding Gen away.

“Nooooo! You can’t do that to me, Ukyo-chan!” Gen gasped at the threat, letting himself be led. “Just because Ryusui-chan is your mate doesn’t mean you can revoke Francois’ privileges from anyone, especially meee! I’m your best friend—”

“That’s precisely why I can. I am his mate, after all,” Ukyo cut in with a teasing smile. Gen spluttered in shock as they walked off, leaving the long brown-haired alpha behind.

“That’s not fair! I need Francois-chan—they’re essential to my survival! A week and a half of eating fish, I can’t go back, Ukyo-chan!” Gen whined.

“I thought your ‘dear Senku-chan’ was the essential part of your survival, especially if you two got lost in the forest,” Ukyo laughed.

“Ukyo-chan! You were eavesdropping!” Gen accused, pouting. Ukyo just smiled, clearly enjoying the whole interaction.

“Kind of hard not to with my ears,” Ukyo replied calmly. Gen protested, but Ukyo glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like a few of our former Empire of Might members will approach and introduce you to some new faces.”

Tsukasa watched the scene with an amused smile. When addressed, he nodded subtly. Ukyo then mouthed a few words to him, carefully conveying a silent message:

‘Gen and Senku don’t know about the baby—keep it that way. Don’t let others talk about it.’

Tsukasa considered the words, bringing a hand under his chin in thought.

‘Talk to Kohaku, Francois, or me for more info.’

With that, Ukyo faced forward again and continued guiding his friend toward the beta butler.

___________

September 27th, 5741 AD

After working tirelessly through the night on a task Senku had assigned them, Kaseki and Yuzuriha finally completed their project by the following evening—a massive globe, marked with all the key locations for their future adventures.

Everyone let out a collective “ooo” and “ahh” at the sight. The structure was enormous and breathtaking. Even Gen’s usually unshakable mate was momentarily stunned.

Gen, ever the charmer, praised the brown-haired omega for her craftsmanship and skill. Taiju, of course, couldn’t resist boasting loudly about how “super-duper talented” his mate was, which made Yuzuriha avert her eyes with a shy smile.

Chrome, meanwhile, immediately leaned closer, pointing to the red-marked cities. “What’s this one? And this one?”

“I want the giant robot one! I want them all!” Ryusui declared, his brown eyes practically drilling into the globe.

“The fire in his eyes will burn a hole in the sky…” Gen murmured with a quiet chuckle.

“Since we’re going to be gathering materials from all over the world, we’ll also be reviving the rest of humanity and establishing new cities to get them running again,” Senku announced, his voice carrying a note of absolute certainty. “The Perseus crew alone won’t cut it anymore. We’re going to need more people.”

“You’re so ambitious, Senku-chan,” Gen hummed, absentmindedly folding a scrap of paper into the shape of a rocket ship.

“With the platinum in our hands, making infinite revival fluid will be a piece of cake!” Kohaku said with a confident grin.

“Finally! We’ll save everyone,” Taiju beamed, his eyes fixed on the globe. “All seven billion people who got turned into stone!”

“Yep, that’s right. We’ll need every helping hand to make this work,” Senku said, resting his hands on his hips. “To create our cities, to establish them, and to gather materials for our rocket—we’ll have to do it together.”

Gen flicked the paper rocket he’d been folding into the air, drawing every eye upward.

“Our world can take flight,” Senku added with a rare smile as the little paper ship sailed overhead.

“I do have one concern,” Ukyo spoke up, his tone thoughtful. “Gen mentioned something earlier about the limit of a functional social group—and we’ll be reviving everyone we meet along the way.”

“One hundred and fifty people,” Gen said with a knowing nod. “Dunbar’s number.”

“We’ll pass that in no time,” Ukyo replied, glancing at him.

“He’s right,” Yo added, crossing his arms. “Odds are, we’ll end up bringing back some bad guys too.”

“Once we establish law and order in the new cities, the people will accept it,” Ryusui said confidently. “Things will stabilize just fine.”

Ukyo turned to his mate, his brows drawn. “The start will be risky.”

“True,” Tsukasa admitted, stepping forward. Everyone’s gaze shifted to him. “I understand your concern, Ukyo. But I doubt we’ll have to deal with many rogue villains. Trust me—it’ll be fine.”

One look at Tsukasa, and the group silently agreed—the long, brown-haired alpha would handle any trouble. Minami quickly pointed out that Tsukasa was famous overseas, and if anyone didn’t recognize him right away, they soon would.

Senku then announced their first destination: Corn City—America. More specifically, San Francisco, California.

When Ryusui let the name slip, Minami immediately clamped a hand over the golden-haired alpha’s mouth and hauled him away. Gen trailed after them, prepared to step in and smooth things over if Ryusui’s words needed a bit of… translation.

Night had fallen by the time Gen found himself watching the scene with quiet amusement. In the familiar tactics chamber they’d used countless times for planning and debriefing, Minami was in full scolding mode, her voice crisp against the backdrop of chirping crickets and the glow of the crescent moon.

It came as no surprise when Ryusui boldly declared his desire for everyone, yet swore no one could ever surpass his mate.

Glancing over the railing, Gen caught sight of Tsukasa lingering below, listening in. The mentalist’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

________

September 28th, 5741 AD

The next morning, Senku continued his explanation on why Corn City would be their first stop.

“Plain and simple—we need more alcohol to produce revival fluid. Corn’s the key.”

“Corn!” Suika chirped, eyes sparkling.

“I remember Ukyo and Gen talking about corn a while ago. Finally, I get to see it for myself!” Chrome practically bounced in place.

“Grilled corn is the best—you’ll love it,” Taiju said encouragingly to Chrome and Suika.

“The corn will all wither when winter arrives, which explains the urgency…” Minami sighed, brushing her hair back.

“Exactly,” Senku agreed, spinning the globe until it landed on the US, a pop-out illustration of corn springing from the map. “If we don’t harvest it before the season changes, we lose an entire year’s worth of revival fluid production.”

Senku turned to face the group, a sharp gleam in his crimson eyes. “The yellow dent corn the good ol’ US prides itself on. Once we get our hands on it, reviving all seven billion people becomes a real possibility.”

“I’m telling you, grilled corn is the best!” Taiju exclaimed, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “You can make all kinds of food from it! Once we revive everyone, we can feed them all with corn!”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on some,” Chrome added, his eyes shining. “Ukyo mentioned popcorn, and Gen said something about corn on the cob? Aw, man, I’m already drooling just thinking about it.” He swiped at the corner of his mouth where drool was already threatening to spill.

Gen’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His mind wandered back to that small but devastating lie he and Senku had spun—Lillian’s voice echoing through the transmitter, feeding the Empire of Might false hope that the US was alive and thriving. He’d warned Senku back then, told him that this little lie would earn them both a straight ticket to hell.

And now here they were, heading toward the very country they’d pretended was waiting for them.

A light bump against his arm snapped Gen out of his thoughts. He turned to see his mate, who seemed to already know what was on his mind. Senku placed a steady hand on the small of his back, and Gen let out a soft sigh.

“Remember when we used that glass record for our grand deception to fool everyone in Tsukasa’s Empire?” Gen murmured, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “A lie that would’ve sent us both straight to hell. We claimed the United States was back on its feet…”

He nodded to himself before continuing, “Well, let’s make that lie a reality with our own hands~”

“Damn right we will.” Senku pulled the omega close to his side. “Regardless, a promise is a promise, Mentalist. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“I know~” Gen laughed softly.

Senku turned toward the gathered group. “We’ll depart on the first of October,” he announced, scratching his ear with his pinky, looking entirely nonchalant. “Seems someone miscalculated the stock count…” He narrowed his eyes at Chrome, who immediately threw his hands up in surrender. “I’ll need to double-check everything to make sure we’re fully prepared. Just because we have two extra days doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”

Gen raised a purple sleeve to cover his mouth, recognizing that his mate’s strict tone was just an excuse to give everyone more time with loved ones before the long journey—one that could last months, maybe even a year.

His gaze drifted toward Tsukasa, who stood with his younger sister perched on his shoulders. Part of the delay, Gen suspected, was for them. The Shishio siblings hadn’t had much time together since Mirai’s revival and Tsukasa’s deep sleep. Now, reunited at last, they would soon be separated again.

Gen silently hoped they would cherish this time together—before the ocean, the miles, and the unknown separated them again.

It was a little after dinner when Gen, taking a short stroll, spotted Tsukasa sitting in front of a small fire near the forest’s edge. The omega approached the long-haired alpha, hands tucked neatly into his sleeves.

“What are you doing all the way out here, Tsukasa-chan? Where’s Mirai-chan?” Gen asked.

Tsukasa glanced up from the fire and gave him a small nod. A long sword rested against the log he was leaning on. “A few people claimed to have seen a lion nearby, so I thought I’d keep watch here. Mirai fell asleep—Minami took her to bed.”

Gen let out a soft huff. “Why didn’t you ask any of our warriors to join you?”

“Hm. I didn’t want to intrude,” Tsukasa replied quickly.

Gen stopped beside him, choosing the empty side of the log before settling down. “Then how about I join you instead~”

“I don’t think—” Tsukasa began, but Gen tsked, cutting him off.

“If a lion or a bear jumps out, I have no doubt Tsukasa-chan will defeat it with a single punch. I’m in safe hands.” He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his lap before cupping his cheeks in his palms.

Tsukasa sighed but gave a small nod. “You aren’t wrong. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

“So, what’s on your mind?” Gen asked. The omega could tell Tsukasa was carrying a lot in his thoughts. “How do you feel, seeing everyone again after so long asleep?”

“It’s… bizarre,” Tsukasa admitted at last. “After you and Ukyo left, a few of my—well, Kingdom of Science members now—approached me. They were happy to see me. I was… surprised that some of them have already started families. They even introduced me to their pups…”

“Adorable, aren’t they?” Gen’s lips curled into a small smile. “I remember when we were all running around preparing for the first modern couple expecting a baby. Luckily, we had people who knew what to do—Francois-chan, and a couple of the villagers—but when that pup was born, it was a huge deal for us. The first life born from a modern couple in this world.”

He stared into the fire, watching the light dance in his eyes. The memories came back to him—anxious mothers from their time, the uncertainty of pregnancy without proper facilities, the whole village working together to make sure everything went well.

“We celebrated for two days straight,” Gen continued fondly. “Of course, we were considerate of the new family, but… that moment gave the final push, the reassurance other couples needed to start families of their own.”

“What about you and Senku?” Tsukasa tilted his head, studying Gen with calm curiosity. “Have you two given any thought to starting a family?”

Gen’s face heated instantly. “Well, Senku-chan and I only got together around the beginning of August, so… our relationship’s still pretty new. We—” his voice dipped shyly, “—mated, yes, but the topic of children hasn’t come up.” He fidgeted with his fingers, gaze darting away. “Right now wouldn’t be the right time. Maybe… in the future, when things have settled. With all the dangers we’ve faced, there’s no telling what’s waiting for us in America.”

Tsukasa stayed quiet, watching him with a measured expression. His gaze briefly dipped to Gen’s stomach before returning to his face. A low hum of amusement left him. “I have no doubt that if you decided to start early, everyone would help you both. I’ve seen how much people care for you.”

“Tsukasa-chan…” Gen squeezed his eyes shut, the embarrassment too much.

“You’ll make a wonderful mother,” Tsukasa said, his tone carrying nothing but sincerity.

Gen’s heart skipped. The term “mother” felt strange—heavy, even. It was tied to giving birth and bringing new life into the world, something he wasn’t sure he fit into, no matter what gender norms said.

“Mother, huh…” he murmured.

“Or ‘parent,’ if you prefer. My point is—you’re great with children. Your future pups will be the luckiest in the world,” Tsukasa said warmly. “With parents like you and Senku…”

All this pup talk had Gen squirming in his seat, cheeks burning, stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I think we should move on from this opic-tay.”

Tsukasa’s lips curved faintly. “Fair enough.” After a beat, his voice softened. “Mirai told me all about what you accomplished. She said you helped her, kept her company, made sure she was never lonely.” A quiet chuckle left him as he reached out and tapped Gen’s head lightly. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Gen said, shaking his head with a small smile. “Mirai-chan is a sweet angel.”

“Still, I’m grateful to you all.” Tsukasa exhaled softly through his nose, the faint puff of air ruffling the strands of hair in front of his face.

“We would’ve cared for her regardless of whether or not she was related to you,” Gen replied with an easy smile. “Mirai-chan is a kind, compassionate child. She made friends quickly—she’s especially close with Suika-chan and Namari-chan.” He leaned back, resting his arms across his lap as he spoke.

“Oh yes, she told me all about them.” The corner of Tsukasa’s lips twitched upward at the memory of his little sister’s bright face, her excitement tumbling out in hurried words as she tried to recount everything that had happened over the last two years.

“Those three are troublemakers,” Gen admitted fondly, “but when it comes to learning, Mirai-chan shines. She keeps up with her studies, stays on top of her schoolwork. She’s really quite brilliant.” The more the omega praised her, the quieter Tsukasa became.

Gen trailed off when he noticed the slight tremble in Tsukasa’s broad shoulders. Slowly, the alpha raised a hand to cover his face. Gen didn’t interrupt—he simply watched with patience as Tsukasa’s composure cracked, his breath hitching. Silent tears slid past his hand.

“Mirai…” Tsukasa’s voice wavered, heavy with grief. “She already missed so much of her life while she was trapped in that coma. She never got to enjoy her childhood, never got to go to school, make friends…” His throat tightened, but he forced the words out. “And now… you all managed to give her those experiences I thought she’d never have.”

Tsukasa furrowed his brows, biting his lip hard. “Even after everything I’ve done… to Senku.”

Gen’s hand moved gently, rubbing his shoulder in quiet support.

“And the statues…” Tsukasa drew in a shaky breath, his voice breaking. “I met Goro. I destroyed his father’s statue. When he saw me—he was angry, of course. But then… he told me he forgave me.”

His eyes filled with confusion, wet with unshed tears. “Why? I had no idea who that statue was, but I knew they probably had a family. And I still destroyed it without hesitation, like all the others. I was ready to carry that burden forever—to live knowing I murdered countless people, whether or not they could ever come back.”

For the first time, Gen saw the raw anguish etched into Tsukasa’s face. He rose slowly to his feet and stepped in front of the alpha, the firelight outlining his slim frame as he looked down at him.

“My actions aren’t worth forgiving… the past doesn’t change…” Tsukasa’s voice trembled, following Gen’s every movement. “I worried, the whole time I was sleeping, that people would take out their anger on Mirai—”

“You know we’d never let that happen, Tsukasa-chan.” Gen cut in softly but firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. His gaze was steady, almost glowing with the reflection of the flames.

“I know… the light in Mirai’s eyes never dimmed. They’re shining brighter than ever,” Tsukasa murmured, looking up at Gen’s face. “She’s happy.”

“More so now that you’re awake.” Gen’s smile softened. “Every single day, she visited you. She talked to you, told you stories…”

The omega tilted his head, his usual playful lilt absent. “Do you want to know why Goro forgave you? Why so many have?” His voice was quiet, the firelight flickering across Tsukasa’s features as the long-haired alpha gazed at him like a lost child seeking guidance.

“It’s because of the world we live in now. We restarted with nothing — the old prejudice is gone. All that matters is survival. They understood what you were trying to do: to create a world where no one suffered the fate you and your sister endured.” Gen’s voice was gentle as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Tsukasa’s ear, leaving the front to frame his face.

“Even after you destroyed those statues, you prayed for them every single day…” Gen watched Tsukasa’s eyes widen. “Everyone knew.” He paused before continuing softly. “You were kind to your people. You never lashed out, even when anger would’ve been justified. They see how deeply you regret the past and what matters most is what you’ve chosen to do afterwards.”

Gen brought his hands to rest against his stomach. “You could have become hateful, spiteful, tyrannical… but you didn’t. You made sure everyone was fed, cared for, you gave them something to look forward to—a brighter future. People see that. They see the Tsukasa-chan who chose to walk forward instead of drowning in hate.”

Tsukasa’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as he listened. Something about the way Gen spoke to him—it was soft, patient, almost maternal—made his composure waver.

Gen’s expression gentled, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “And maybe they forgive because they’ve seen Senku-chan forgive you. He has this way of making people believe the impossible is worth chasing. He believes in second chances—even after betrayal, even when trust seems shattered.”

The fire crackled between them, its warmth pushing back the chill of the night air.

Tsukasa lowered his gaze, shoulders trembling as he whispered, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe not,” Gen admitted, voice quiet but steady. “But… you’ve earned it.” He let out a soft huff, trying to lighten the heaviness. “And if you still think otherwise, then how about helping us rebuild the world? A good old samaritan deed.”

Slowly, Tsukasa leaned forward until his forehead barely brushed against Gen’s stomach, his gaze sinking to the ground. His voice cracked with guilt. “I once promised Senku that no harm would come to him… and I failed. I’m the one who hurt him.” His eyes flicked briefly to Gen’s stomach—the life nurtured within—before lifting to meet the omega’s gaze. “This time, I won’t break my promise. I swear… no harm will fall upon you, upon Senku, or your family.”

Gen’s eyes widened at the weight of the vow, his heart stuttering. A quiet chuckle slipped out as he wrapped his arms around the long-haired alpha’s head, pulling him into a warm embrace. He patted his head softly, lips curving. “What are you? Some loyal knight?”

Tsukasa stilled, not really expecting the hug, but then his body loosened as a quiet laugh rumbled from his chest. “Sure, loyal knight… bodyguard, or even a meat shield. Call me whatever you like, Gen.”

For the first time in his life, Tsukasa was being comforted—cradled in the arms of an omega who carried life within him that he didn’t even know about yet. A life so fragile, so precious, that would soon be brought into this world. No harm would come to Senku’s and Gen’s pup. Not while Tsukasa still drew breath. He decided right then—that was his vow. To ensure that child would be safe, no matter what.

“So,” Tsukasa asked softly, shifting the air lighter, “tell me about what happened on Treasure Island. I heard a lot went on.”

Immediately, Gen pulled back, frowning and groaning with exaggerated drama. “Ugh, don’t get me started, Tsukasa-chan.” He let out a long, theatrical sigh. “It was orrible-hay! As soon as we got there, trouble practically jumped out at us!”

Tsukasa chuckled, lips quirking as Gen’s hands flew in emphasis, his voice slipping between seriousness and his usual dramatics. Soon, Gen had settled right beside him, shoulder brushing his arm as he launched into a long rant—complaining about Magma most of all, and what he had put him through.

Tsukasa only smiled, content to listen. He figured they’d be here a while. Senku would show up soon enough to collect his mate and coax him to bed. But until then, Tsukasa would stay right here, keeping Gen company.

_________

Senku let out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms tight over his chest. Taiju and Ryusui had somehow anchored themselves at his sides, talking his ear off and refusing to let him leave. Gen had slipped away earlier with some excuse about needing air, and Senku hadn’t seen him since. His mind itched at the absence.

The fire snapped and popped, throwing sparks into the night. Around it, the others had settled into their own worlds. Kohaku and Ruri had already carried Suika off to bed. Chrome lay sprawled on the ground, Ginro snoring against Matsukaze’s lap; the older alpha didn’t seem to mind, idly resting one hand on his sword as he watched the flames. Kinro sat a little apart, speaking in low tones with Kirisame while keeping a close eye on his brother and Matsukaze. Nikki and Yuzuriha leaned close together, whispering about plans for America, their words lost in the fire’s crackle.

Senku’s gaze flicked toward the dark edges of camp, half-expecting to see Ukyo trailing after Gen. The thought made his jaw unclench—if Ukyo had gone with him, at least his mate wasn’t wandering alone. Still, Senku hated not knowing.

Beside him, Taiju and Ryusui were laughing, voices booming, the pair caught up in their endless competition of who had the better mate, the greater love story. Senku tuned them out, drumming his fingers against his sleeve, irritation simmering.

“Oi, Senku,” Magma’s voice cut through the noise.

Senku lifted his eyes, unimpressed, one brow arched in silent question.

“Why’d you take me off the list?” Magma demanded, stomping forward until his shadow loomed across the firelight. “I’m not staying behind.” Mantle trailed after him, puffing up as if echoing his alpha friend’s anger.

Taiju and Ryusui fell quiet, their chatter cut short as they turned to watch.

Senku exhaled through his nose, slow and sharp. The last thing he wanted right now was to argue with Magma. His mind was already far away, searching for Gen.

“Oooh, wow, let’s see…” Senku drawled, pretending to actually dwell on the obvious answer. His scent shifted as he spoke. “Maybe it’s the fact that you hit my mate on the head, threatened to leave his body in the forest, held him against his will, and pinned him to the sailboat floor.” He ticked each offense off on his fingers.

“Oh, and derailing from the plan just to steal Yo’s weapon… That one’s on me. Should’ve seen it coming.” He leaned forward, propping an elbow on his knee, cheek against his palm, unimpressed.

“So you’re the type to hold grudges…” Magma muttered, grimacing as Senku’s angry scent pressed down on him.

“Let bygones be bygones, Senku! You’ll need Magma’s strength on the journey. Didn’t you trust him with all the heavy work?” Mantle piped up quickly, gesturing toward his partner.

“Yeah, I’m not as merciful as people think. Quite the opposite, actually.” Senku’s tone flattened, his eyes narrowing. “That’s called punishment, and your buddy knows exactly why he earned it.”

Magma clicked his tongue. “Come on, Senku. Can’t you just ignore that little incident with your omega? Like the first time?”

Senku’s eyes narrowed, his half-lidded gaze sharpening with irritation. “A little incident?” His voice dropped, calm but edged with something far sharper than Magma’s blunt words. “You think laying hands on my mate qualifies as little, Magma?”

The firelight flickered across his face, making his smirk look more dangerous than amused. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to ignore this. You don’t get to treat Gen like expendable baggage.”

Magma stiffened at the emphasis on mate, his jaw tightening. Mantle tried to step in again, laughing nervously. “Senku, come on! Magma didn’t mean any—”

“Save it,” Senku cut him off, standing now, arms folding. His scent pressed into the air, sharp with ozone and smoke, impossible to ignore. “You think strength is the only thing that matters? I can easily build machines that’ll do the job better than him.”

Magma flinched but forced a scowl. “You can’t just keep throwing that in my face. I already paid for it when you stuck me with all the grunt work.”

“And you’ll pay for it every time you so much as look at him wrong.” Senku’s words snapped out, harsh but steady, quieter than Magma’s growl yet carrying far more weight. “That’s the deal. I don’t forgive—especially not when it comes to Gen.”

Silence spread through the group. Yuzuriha and Nikki froze mid-conversation, Kinro and Kirisame tensed like they were ready to intervene if Magma so much as twitched. Matsukaze’s hand hovered near his weapon. Ginro snored on, blissfully unaware, while Chrome stirred awake at the pressure in the air. Even Ryusui held his tongue, the tension sharp enough to slice through. Beside Senku, Taiju shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. He knew Senku was right. His anger was completely justified.

“He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time!” Magma gritted his teeth, forcing the words out. “I wasn’t even targeting him specifically!”

Senku didn’t move. He simply stared, unamused, his stance unshaken when it came to his mate. The heavy press of the alpha’s gaze settled on Magma like iron weights.

Once, Magma had wondered how far Senku would go for his omega. Now he knew—he was living the answer, and it felt like punishment carved into bone.

Air burned in his lungs as if Senku’s fury had stolen it from him. His palms were slick, his skin crawling with unease. The pressure was unbearable, suffocating.

He had painted a target on himself the moment he struck Gen, and now every eye in Senku’s pack was on him, seeing him as nothing more than vermin.

“Argh—it was just a spur of the moment! I didn’t mean to hit Gen, my hand moved on its own!” Magma tried to justify, but the flicker of anger tightening Senku’s expression told him it only made things worse.

“Magma already apologized—” Mantle tried to defend, only for Magma to snap back bitterly.

“Attempted. But Gen either walks away or there’s always someone with him.” He crossed his arms, defiant even under the weight crushing him.

“The answer’s still no.” Senku’s voice was final.

“You can’t leave me here—” Magma began.

“Watch me,” Senku cut in, sharp and merciless.

“I won’t do it ever again. I don’t care if you dump all the heavy lifting on me—I refuse to be left behind.” Magma’s fists trembled at his sides, his voice loud, raw, and unyielding.

“Senku…” Ryusui muttered with an exasperated sigh. Senku didn’t need more than that. He knew what the golden-haired alpha was getting at. If they abandoned Magma here, the muscle-brained brute would seize the chance—take advantage of their thinned numbers, wrest control, and lord over the people left behind.

Neither option sat well with him. Bringing Magma along was a headache waiting to happen, but leaving him was worse.

Senku’s jaw worked, the decision sour on his tongue. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.” Ryusui tilted his head, calm as ever. “But between two rotten choices, this is the one less likely to kill us.”

“Don’t worry about Gen—we’ve got your back,” Taiju said, his reassuring tone carrying more weight than Magma’s words ever could.

Senku leaned forward, eyes narrowing like the cut of a blade. “You’ll travel with us. But understand this—if you so much as step out of line, I won’t hesitate. The next months, maybe the next year, will be hell for you. And if you slip even once, I’ll make sure it’s the last time you ever cause us trouble.” His voice was low, cold, and absolute, the kind of threat that settled into bone.

For a beat, Magma just stared at him—then his lips twisted into something sharp, a grin that wasn’t joy but defiance.

“Don’t look so pleased. It’s disgusting.” Senku’s face darkened, scent turning acrid.

“I’m not happy,” Magma snapped, his teeth bared. “Just fine with fighting at your side. You’re the one looking pleased about it.”

“Not even by a millimeter,” Senku bit out, teeth clenched. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you to rot in the middle of nowhere.”

Magma exhaled slowly, the tension thick enough to choke on. His jaw worked, like he was chewing over whether to shut up or spill. In the end, his stubbornness won out.

“He called for you, you know.” Magma grunted, exhaling sharply. “Scared me shitless—I thought you were about to pop out of thin air and kill me.”

Senku froze, one eye twitching as his hand curled into a white-knuckled fist. “He called for me?” The words dropped like stones, the air plunging icy cold.

“Yeah.” Magma shut his eyes with a frustrated sigh. “First time I ever heard an omega cry like that. Different from back when I mistook him for you and roughed him up in the village. Back then he was just… scared. This time…” He opened his eyes, met Senku’s murderous glare, and leaned back despite the weight of it. “This time, it was like he thought you’d actually come. Won’t try anything like that again.”

The confession landed like oil on open flame. If Magma’s intent was to douse the fire, he’d done the opposite—stoking Senku’s fury higher with every word.

Gen hadn’t told him that.

Gen had cried for him—and he hadn’t heard. Senku’s gut twisted, fury laced with something darker, sharper. He remembered the crash of waves at the cliff, Moz’s taunts, Ibara’s looming threat. All of it, while Gen had been somewhere calling for him.

Senku drew in a sharp breath, covering his mouth with his hand as if to steady himself, but his eyes burned with something lethal. “First Moz. Then you. Then Ibara…” His voice dropped, venomous, barely restrained. “I can’t let Gen out of my sights. Not for a second.”

The air crackled, brittle with cold. If looks alone could kill, Magma, Moz, and Ibara would already be corpses scattered ten billion times over.

No one dared move. No one dared breathe. They all waited, the weight of Senku’s rage pressing down, to see what their leader would do next.

To everyone’s shock, Senku reeled his shoulder back, fist clenched tight, and in the next instant drove a punch straight into Magma’s jaw.

The crack of impact silenced the camp.

Magma let out a grunt as he staggered back, clutching his jaw as pain burst across his face. The sharp taste of blood filled his mouth. For a moment, he simply gaped at Senku in disbelief. He hadn’t thought the scrawny scientist had that kind of strength—hadn’t expected to see that cold fury blazing in his eyes.

The camp reacted at once. Kinro and Kirisame darted between them, their stances rigid as if preparing for the fight to continue. Yuzuriha gasped, both hands covering her mouth in shock—she had never seen Senku lose his composure like that.

Taiju lurched to his feet, wide-eyed, arms spread as though he could hold back the storm himself.

Nikki gave a low, impressed whistle under her breath.

Chrome blinked hard and rubbed his eyes, convinced he must still be half-dreaming. His jaw dropped anyway.

Matsukaze carefully set Ginro’s head from his lap onto the ground, then sprang up to join the other warriors, exchanging a sharp glance with Ryusui.

“I think it’s about time you left, Magma.” Ryusui’s voice boomed, calm but edged, as he placed a firm hand on Senku’s shoulder. His golden hair caught the firelight as he turned a commanding gaze on Mantle. “Take him with you. And don’t show your faces again until the day of departure.”

Magma grumbled low, his pride stung and blood wetting his lip. The curses on his tongue burned, but he bit them back under the weight of the stares around him. Kinro, Kirisame, and Matsukaze quickly ushered him and Mantle away.

Silence lingered in their wake, heavy and uneasy. Only Senku’s clenched fist still trembled faintly at his side.

That left just Yuzuriha, Nikki, Chrome, Taiju, Ryusui—and Ginro, still asleep on the ground, oblivious to the chaos that had just unfolded.

Once Magma and Mantle were gone, Ryusui turned back to the group with a heavy sigh. He eyed Senku, then poked his left arm, earning a sharp grunt. “He had it coming, no doubt. But Senku… you already have one arm still healing, and you just punched Magma with your only good one.”

“Yeah! What if you hurt that too? Then you’d be stuck with two busted arms!” Taiju added, his voice full of worry.

Chrome rubbed at his face and groaned. “What the hell did I just wake up to? Am I still dreaming?”

Senku flexed his fingers, trying to ignore the lingering tingle. “I know when not to overexert myself,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“I never thought I’d see you throw a punch… let alone actually fight someone,” Yuzuriha admitted softly, letting out a long breath. Then she gave a small smile. “You really do love Gen.”

Nikki smirked. “That’s so damn romantic—coming to your mate’s defense like that.”

“There’s no way that actually happened,” Chrome insisted, clutching his head. “Senku. Punching Magma. This has to be a dream.”

Ryusui chuckled, clapping Senku on the shoulder in approval. “I must say, it was a beautiful strike. All that frustration, all that anger—perfectly channeled.”

Senku hissed when the hand landed on his injured arm and brushed Ryusui off with a scowl.

He glanced at his reddened knuckles, flexing them once more before letting out a sharp huff. “Don’t tell Gen.”

“He’s going to hear about it tomorrow,” Yuzuriha said with a small, hopeless smile.

“Is this a prank?” Chrome muttered, still looking dazed.

“Defending your mate is justifiable, but Senku—violence is never the answer,” Taiju scolded, arms crossed.

“I know… I just couldn’t control myself.” Senku admitted, his fist clenching and unclenching. His brows furrowed deeply. “I’m… so weak.”

He hated saying it aloud, but it was the truth gnawing at him. He wasn’t built like Taiju, Tsukasa, or even Ryusui—alphas with the kind of presence and strength people expected. Senku knew if it came down to fists, he’d lose. He hadn’t been able to protect Gen before, so what would stop it from happening again?

He told himself he’d make up for it with intelligence, strategy, anything that gave him an edge. And if all else failed… maybe instinct alone would carry him through. One thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down without a fight.

Ryusui let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Admitting them isn’t weakness—it’s admirable. You’ve only been bonded for, what—”

“A month, three weeks, and five days,” Senku cut in without missing a beat. “It’ll be two months on the first of October.”

Ryusui smiled knowingly. “Yes, that. And in that short time, you’ve already faced more challenges than most couples do in years. Yet here you are, holding it together. I’d say you’re doing damn well.”

Senku raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Ryusui lifted both hands in mock defense, his grin widening. “Most alphas would’ve gone on a killing spree and lost their humanity by now. The fact that you haven’t?” He leaned closer. “That’s impressive, my friend.”

Ryusui crossed his arms and shifted his weight. “We’re surrounded by trusted friends—our pack, the one you lead. We’ve got your back, Senku. Just like we know you have ours.”

“Exactly!” Taiju said at once, nodding firmly.

“You can lean on us more, Senku,” Yuzuriha added, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’ll keep Magma on a tight leash—and by extension, Yo. Those two together are a disaster waiting to happen,” Nikki said with a sharp grin. “But you know neither of them could win against me anyway.”

“I’m still completely lost,” Chrome admitted, pushing himself up off the floor. He squared his shoulders and fixed Senku with a steady gaze. “But I’ll say this—we’re a team. You’d be an even bigger idiot if you thought you had to handle everything alone.”

Then Chrome smiled, warm and genuine. “You and Gen are like family. My life—no, our lives—got a lot more lively once you both came into it.”

Taiju bit his lip, tears spilling freely now as he nodded hard. “You can always count on me and Yuzuriha, Senku.”

Senku stared at them, stunned by their words. Slowly, a small smile tugged at his lips, and a chuckle slipped free. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You guys are a bunch of softies… but thanks. I appreciate it.”

Everyone knew that was as far as he’d go, so Ryusui stepped in to close the night. “Then it’s settled. Time for bed.” He cast his gaze around the group, then smiled. “I’ll look for Ukyo. Goodnight, everyone.”

A chorus of “goodnights” followed.

Senku gave a short nod. “I’m going to find Gen. Goodnight.”

He turned and walked off, his skin buzzing with anticipation. After everything tonight—the confrontation, the confessions—his need to see his mate was overwhelming. All he wanted was Gen safe in his arms, tucked into the comfort of their nest, where nothing and no one could touch them.

The moon hung high above as Senku walked through camp, its pale light mixing with the glow of scattered fires. Small clusters of people lingered by the flames, lost in their own hushed conversations.

As he made his way toward the camp’s edge, he spotted Ukyo. The white-haired omega greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Ukyo—” Senku began, but Ukyo quickly cut him off.

“Gen’s just ahead with Tsukasa. They were having a serious talk, but it’s finished now.”

Senku raised a brow, curiosity sparking. What could those two have to discuss? Still, he only nodded. “Ryusui’s looking for you. Last I saw, he was heading toward the kitchen area.”

“Thank you, Senku. And… don’t tell Gen I was here. He doesn’t know I followed him.” Ukyo gave a sheepish smile.

Senku exhaled through his nose and nodded again. “Understood. See you tomorrow.”

He continued on until the campfires thinned and the forest pressed in. At last, another glow caught his eye. Near the edge of the trees, Tsukasa sat with his back against a fallen log, his weapon lying idly at his side.

No sign of Gen.

Senku frowned. Did he already leave? No—Ukyo said he was here.

As Senku drew closer, Tsukasa turned his head, greeting him with a faint smile. Only then did Senku see him—his mate, curled at Tsukasa’s side.

Gen’s knees were tucked to his chest, arms wrapped tight around them as he slept soundly, his head resting against Tsukasa’s arm. His soft snores broke the quiet, and with each breath, the loose strands of white hair falling across his face ruffled gently.

Senku’s chest tightened at the sight.

“Senku.” Tsukasa’s voice was low as he gestured toward Gen. “He just drifted off.”

“Hey…” Senku murmured, but his eyes never left his mate.

Tsukasa’s sharp gaze flicked to Senku’s hand. “Your knuckles are red. Did you… punch someone? Magma?”

Senku let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

An amused huff escaped Tsukasa. “If you ever want pointers on fighting, I could teach you. But judging by your hand, I’d say you landed a solid hit.”

“Ten billion percent,” Senku muttered with a smirk. He flexed his fingers, the tingle still lingering, the redness more pronounced now. Shaking his head, he added, “Maybe later… So what did you two talk about?”

“My own issues,” Tsukasa admitted. “And Gen told me everything that happened on Treasure Island.” His expression darkened, frustration written plainly across his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. To help Gen.”

Senku raised a brow. “Dude, you were in cold sleep. You couldn’t have done anything. We were busy trying to snatch the Medusa, figure out the petrification, and, you know, save your ass while we were at it.”

Tsukasa’s lips curved into the faintest wry smile before fading into a frown. “I know. And I’m grateful my wounds are healed… but hearing what you all endured—what Gen endured—it makes me furious.” His fist tightened, the air heavy with the hum of his scent.

The image of Moz cornering Gen—defenseless, pregnant—twisted his stomach. Then Magma striking him, pinning him down. And Ibara… Tsukasa forced the thought away, his jaw clenched. His blood boiled just from hearing it secondhand.

He glanced at Senku, knowing the scientist’s fury must burn ten times hotter. Gen is his mate. His omega.

After Tsukasa’s conversation with Ukyo, Kohaku, and Francois the other day, he finally understood why the truth was being kept from both the couple and the crew aboard the Perseus. Their reasoning had been sound—quiet preservation, timing, and the risk of upsetting delicate balance. But Tsukasa had warned them it wouldn’t last. Secrets frayed quickly, and lingering looks from villagers and the members left behind were already beginning to betray it.

Senku and Gen deserved to know about the life quietly growing inside the omega.

“Imagine how I’m feeling…” Senku muttered, stepping carefully around Tsukasa’s weapon discarded on the floor before crouching at Gen’s side. His voice was low, bitter. “We can’t seem to catch a break… one thing after another. Just thinking about it makes me pissed all over again.”

Tsukasa’s sharp eyes softened. “I’m surprised you managed to get Hyoga to join you at all—let alone save Gen. His views never aligned with Moz.”

“I don’t know what the hell went through his head in that moment,” Senku admitted, hand pressing against Gen’s back with quiet possession, “but I’m damn grateful he saved my mate.” His fingers flexed, wanting nothing more than to scoop Gen up into his arms and carry him away, but reality reminded him he didn’t have the strength to do so.

“Do you want me to carry him?” Tsukasa offered.

“No.” The answer came fast, almost too sharp. Then Senku cleared his throat, forcing himself back into composure. “I’ve got it.”

“..Alright.” Tsukasa inclined his head, respecting the boundary.

Senku chewed at the inside of his cheek, frustration and tenderness warring in him, before he finally exhaled. Leaning closer, his voice softened with reluctant gentleness. “Hey, Gen. Come on—let’s head to bed, mentalist.”

Gen stirred with a faint hum, head tipping toward Senku as if guided by instinct. The alpha released a steady wave of his scent, coaxing, protective. Slowly, Gen’s lashes fluttered open, his gaze hazy with sleep.

“Senku-chan…?” he murmured.

“That’s right,” Senku smiled at the sleepy, almost childlike expression on the omega’s face. “Time to stop using Tsukasa as a pillow and join me in a real bed. Much more comfortable, promise.”

That seemed to get Gen’s attention. His arms slowly uncurled from around his knees, and Senku guided him up with careful hands. The moment Gen stood, he pressed himself against his alpha’s side, head on Senku’s shoulder, their hands naturally intertwining. Gen’s eyes were already slipping closed again as he murmured, soft and drowsy, “Okay, Senku-chan…”

Senku’s lips quirked at the corners. He led them toward the camp and the waiting warmth of their cabin, guiding Gen with steady patience, his hand firm yet gentle as he steered the omega around Tsukasa’s discarded weapon.

Behind them, Tsukasa’s voice cut through the quiet. “I failed to keep my promise the first time, Senku.”

Senku paused, glancing back.

Tsukasa’s expression was steady, his tone weighted with conviction. “I won’t fail again. No harm will come to you or your family. Not while I live.”

The honesty in his eyes was impossible to miss. Senku felt it. This time, Tsukasa meant every word. A breath slipped from him, loosening the tension that had dug into his shoulders.

If Tsukasa became Gen’s bodyguard… the strongest fighter at his mate’s side… yes. That thought eased something deep in his chest.

“Good,” Senku said at last, facing forward again. “I’ll take you at your word. Having you watch over Gen will put me at ease.” He started walking once more, Gen clinging warm and trustingly to his arm. “See you tomorrow, Tarzan.”

Tsukasa blinked, then scoffed softly at the nickname. “Goodnight.”

_______

September 29th, 5741 AD

It was a sunny afternoon in the Kingdom of Science, and everyone had gathered once again in the flower fields. Small groups lounged in the shade beneath trees, chatting and relaxing, while the children played in the open grass. Today’s game involved Tsukasa cast as the fearsome monster, while the pups banded together to rescue the “princess,” Mirai.

The scene was nothing short of delightful. Parents cheered on their little heroes, laughter filled the air, and Suika had declared herself a strange slime monster sworn to guard Mirai. Namari, of course, was Tsukasa’s loyal right-hand man.

As promised back on Treasure Island, Senku had kept his word to Suika. With the combined efforts of Francois, Chrome, and Kaseki, they’d managed to recreate fruit-flavored popsicles.

Gen licked the last bit of his own popsicle and sighed softly. He couldn’t help but long for the viral fruit ice creams he’d once seen on social media—fresh mango sorbet served right in its own shell. Just remembering the pictures made him bite his lip with regret for never having tried one in the past.

A mango ice cream sounds so good right now…

“What’s wrong? You’re making a face, Gen,” Kohaku’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Nothing’s rong-way!” Gen replied quickly with a smile.

“That’s a lie,” Ukyo called him out flatly.

“Is it the popsicle? Is it not to your liking? Shall I grab you another flavor?” Ruri shifted on her knees, already half-ready to stand.

Gen immediately stopped her. “No, no! Ruri-chan, it’s okay. I just thought of something from the past.”

Ruri gave him a doubtful look but settled back down. “What was it?”

Since returning to their homeland, Gen had noticed how often Ruri and Minami seemed to hover around him. He chalked it up to both omegas simply missing him and wanting to make up for lost time with their friends.

“Suika! Tuck and roll—yeah!” Kohaku shouted encouragement across the field. The pup rolled out of the way just in time before another child nearly tagged her.

“I just… started thinking about this viral fruit ice cream I saw once. Never got the chance to try it.” Gen sighed as he confessed.

Ukyo, sitting beside him, calmly finished the last bite of his popsicle while Yuzuriha collected the used sticks into a pile. Kohaku crouched in front of them, still dividing her attention between the conversation and the kids’ game.

Ruri sat gracefully beside her sister, watching Gen expectantly. On his other side, Minami’s bright smile only seemed to grow.

Nearby, Nikki muttered about her sticky hands while Kirisame contentedly enjoyed her own icy treat.

“And I reeaallly want to eat it right now. Specifically a mango one,” Gen admitted with a groan. “But we don’t even have mangos…”

“Oh! I tried those before. They’re very delicious… even just thinking about them.” Minami nodded to herself.

“I don’t think that’s helping,” Ukyo sighed as he placed the wooden sticks on the pile Yuzuriha had gathered.

“We can just ask Francois to make them, I’m pretty sure they can do it,” Yuzuriha hummed.

“What’s a mango? Why would they name a fruit Man-go? Where do they want the man to go?” Kohaku crossed her arms and tilted her head.

“I have no idea, but it’s really delicious… too bad we don’t have them here in Japan,” Nikki shrugged her shoulders.

“We have other fruits—watermelon, apples, grapes, peaches—the list goes on. I’m sure one of those will suffice,” Ruri offered with a soft smile, though her eyes lingered on Gen a beat too long.

“I’m sure they’ll taste great… it’s just, they’re not mangos.” Gen looked dejected, his words slipping into a pout. “I’m orry-say for being in a mood. I’m happy that Senku-chan and the others made this for us, and I’m just being ungrateful…”

“No! You’re being… reasonable. You’re allowed to crave things.” Ukyo quickly jumped in to reassure him, his voice a shade gentler than usual. “The fruit ice cream sounds delicious. I’d like to try it too.”

Gen gave him a small, grateful smile and leaned forward to place his wooden stick on the pile. Kirisame glanced at Kohaku across the group, a subtle flicker of knowing passing between them, while Minami’s sharp eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“So,” Minami broke the pause, her tone shifting, “what happened when they cornered you on the ship again? How did you even get Hyoga to fight alongside you?”

“Oh, well… Gen’s quick thinking, uh… saved us?” Nikki replied with a nervous chuckle. A pink hue covered her cheeks as the female alpha darted a glance at Kohaku. “He used a… romantic distraction approach.”

The omega’s eyes widened before he smiled sheepishly. He hadn’t told Kohaku the details—now seemed like the perfect time. Hopefully, she’d go easy on him.

“At first, I was going to use Nikki-chan,” Gen began, wringing his hands, “but Hyoga-chan overheard us. He caught me saying your name, Kohaku-chan, and started pressing for answers.”

Gen saw her raise a brow, which only made him talk faster. “So I—I had to take advantage of the opportunity! I spun the story on the spot. Lucky for me, I still had the drawings you sent us. Since you’d drawn Hyoga-chan, it added credibility, and—” he clasped his hands together in mock-prayer, “—I don’t know the exact nature of your relationship but he called me out so… pleasedonthurtme!” He squeaked out the last part and shut his eyes tight.

Just a few months, Kohaku told herself, feeling the eyes of her friends on her. I can wait a few months until the pup is born and then I can take revenge after…

When she finally spoke, her voice was calm. “If the situation called for it, then I don’t mind. I’m glad I was still of help to you in a dire need.”

Honestly, she didn’t mind. It was true that she and Hyoga had grown close; they often talked when it was her turn to watch the prisoners. Homura sometimes joined in, and Kohaku’s curiosity had pulled many questions out of the white-haired alpha. She couldn’t deny his strength, or that he was attractive.

Gen had told her two days ago—quietly, when no one else was listening—that Hyoga had saved him from Moz. That truth alone made Kohaku’s heart soften toward him. She couldn’t help but feel grateful in her own way.

And the more she listened, the harder it became to keep her image of him painted in black and white. Gen’s gratitude, Ukyo’s appreciation, Nikki’s careful respect, even Senku’s acknowledgment—all of it chipped away at her certainty. Perhaps Hyoga wasn’t so simple to judge.

Kohaku had a hunch he would be revived soon, and the thought lit a spark inside her. She wanted to thank him properly—for protecting her pregnant friend when she wasn’t there to do it herself.

But beyond gratitude, there was another itch she couldn’t ignore. Their battle still burned in her memory, unfinished and unsatisfying. She wanted a rematch—not as enemies this time, but as two warriors testing each other’s strength without the shadow of war between them.

What kind of man was Hyoga when he wasn’t her opponent? The question made her blood quicken with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to find out.

Still… Kohaku let her lips twitch just enough for Gen to see, a hint of a smile that promised trouble.

“You can relax, Gen. I won’t hurt you,” Kohaku said with certainty, making it clear the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Everyone who knew about Gen’s pregnancy understood that Kohaku would never lay a hand on him. Still, the memory made her cringe—the time Gen had tied a rope around her ankle and wrist, tripping them both. If she had fallen wrong… she could have harmed the baby. That thought would haunt her forever.

Gen visibly eased at her reassurance, letting out a sigh. “Okay… I’ll trust you.”

Just then, a pouty Ginro marched past with his arms crossed tight to his chest. Ruri called out to him, making him stop mid-step.

“Ginro! You look upset. Why don’t you join us?” she offered warmly.

“Yes, come on! You have to tell me what it feels like to be an omega now,” Minami added, her grin openly teasing.

Ginro huffed but couldn’t resist the attention. He approached the group and flopped dramatically down between Kohaku and Ruri, sulking for all of two seconds before slipping into his usual smugness.

Ever since they had returned from Treasure Island, Ginro had been basking in newfound glory. The villagers flocked to him, praising and admiring him, their eyes filled with hope as though he were their savior. Ginro lapped it up, head held high, basking in the spotlight.

And he had been right about the special treatment: meals served to him first, drinks and snacks offered with concern, villagers asking after his well-being as though he were royalty. Ginro basked in it all, absolutely convinced that this was how things were meant to be.

His parents had cried actual tears of joy the moment they learned he was an omega. Ginro could still hear his mother’s dramatic wailing of “our precious baby is not hopeless after all!” echoing in his ears. It would’ve been a perfect day, if only Kinro hadn’t opened his big mouth. Why couldn’t his older brother let him have this one victory without ruining it?

Ginro had, of course, proudly introduced everyone to Matsukaze—his personal bodyguard. Never mind the fact Matsukaze lost to Tsukasa; Tsukasa himself had praised his strength, which made it count double in Ginro’s book. The villagers instantly warmed up to him, much to Kinro’s obvious disapproval. His parents even went so far as to bow and thank Matsukaze for becoming Ginro’s “bodyguard.” Ginro nearly puffed up with pride at that… until Kinro had a little talk with them.

After that, their whole attitude flipped. His parents started whispering to Matsukaze, urging him to “run while he still could.” Ginro had no idea what they were talking about. It’s not like he was going to make Matsukaze do anything too gruesome.

Kinro only got worse. He acted suspiciously friendly, personally escorting Matsukaze around the village and introducing him to every omega and beta in sight. Ginro sat there fuming as he watched a flock of female omegas swoon over Matsukaze’s calm demeanor. And then came the final blow:

His parents announced they were going to hold a Grandbout in his honor to help him find a mate and “continue the family lineage.” Ginro had practically thrown himself onto the floor in protest, insisting he’d be leaving with Senku’s group anyway. They shot him down immediately, saying they wouldn’t allow it. Only after Kinro stepped in did they agree to wait until Ginro returned.

But that hardly made it better. Now there was a ticking clock hanging over his head, counting down to the day he’d be promised to some stranger. Ginro ground his teeth, fury bubbling in his chest. None of this would have happened if Kinro had just kept quiet.

All Ginro had wanted was to bask lazily in his newfound attention. Instead, he was being lined up like some prize to be won. If fate was cruel enough to stick him with someone like Magma—or worse, Mantle—Ginro wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover. Just imagining it made him shudder so hard.

Wait a minute—maybe Senku could put a stop to this nonsense. He was the village’s chief, after all.

“We lost him,” Nikki muttered as Ginro’s expression shifted every few seconds—panic, despair, outrage, then back again.

“Maybe it’s hard for him to accept,” Yuzuriha said gently. “He was a beta up until just a week ago…”

Finally, Ginro clapped his hands together and turned toward Gen with pleading eyes. “Gen, I need your help.”

The mentalist blinked and tilted his head, lips quirking in amusement. “And how exactly can I help you, Ginro-chan?”

“Talk to Senku!” Ginro wailed, nearly pulling at his own hair. “He’s the village chief—he can put a stop to my parents and the ex-chief’s madness!”

Ruri tapped a finger against her cheek thoughtfully. “Oh! Are you talking about the Grandbout being held in your honor, Ginro?”

“Yes!” Ginro spun toward her, his voice cracking. “I don’t know why they’re doing it. I thought it was only meant for people like you!”

“You’re our village’s first male omega. The occasion is special,” Ruri explained carefully, her voice carrying a reverent weight. “You know how rare they’ve become over time… They want to ensure you have a partner and continue on your… er, legacy.” She finished with a nervous smile as Ginro’s face crumpled in despair.

“Noo! Everyone in that village is ugly—” Ginro blurted, only to freeze when he noticed Kohaku’s fist twitch. His head whipped back and forth. “—Not you! Not you! I mean, you and your sister are—uh—exceptions, of course!”

Kohaku’s eyes narrowed.

Desperate, Ginro jabbed a finger toward a Mantle off in the distance, who was currently scratching his butt. “I just don’t want to be stuck with someone like him!”

The entire circle collectively cringed.

Kohaku sighed. “Now that our people have merged with Tsukasa’s, I’m sure they’ll allow others to participate. So at least you’ll have more options.”

“I don’t think Ginro-chan wants to be set up with anyone,” Gen chimed in, smooth as silk.

Ginro’s teary eyes whipped toward him. “Thank you!” he cried, scrambling over and collapsing into Gen’s lap as though he’d found salvation. “I knew you’d understand me, Geen!”

Gen let out a small, startled squeak at the sudden weight. From the corner of his eye, he caught Ukyo shifting on his knees, his hand twitching as if preparing to intervene. Gen lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug, choosing instead to pat Ginro’s head in a gentle, almost patronizing rhythm.

“You must be overwhelmed with the new changes in your body,” Gen soothed, voice lilting. “You’ve barely had a week to process it. Ginro-chan hasn’t even experienced his first heat cycle yet, after all.”

Ginro whined helplessly, burying his face deeper into Gen’s lap as the comforting scent washed over him. “I thought things would’ve been easier with my new status… I mean, at first it was—but Kinrooo—argh! I don’t know what he told my parents, but everything changed!”

The words sank in slowly. Ginro froze, lifting his head to blink wide, horrified eyes at Gen. “W-wait… what? What do you mean?”

Ukyo adjusted his posture, his voice slipping into that calm, almost lecturing tone. “Usually when one presents, the cycle follows soon after. The fact that you haven’t yet means your first heat will begin pretty soon.”

“Oof, I remember mine…” Minami groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ugh, it was horrible.”

“Everything ached. I didn’t even want to get out of bed,” Yuzuriha sighed.

“I just remembered feeling feverish,” Ruri admitted softly. “But Kohaku stayed with me the whole time. Her presence made everything bearable.” She smiled at her younger sister with fond gratitude. Kohaku had made sure she ate, placed cool towels on her forehead, and gently ran her fingers through her hair until the pain eased.

Ginro groaned in despair, pushing himself up from Gen’s lap with all the exaggerated tragedy of a stage actor. All those times he mocked Kinro for suffering through rut were now coming back to bite him. “Nooo…! Can’t one of you just go through my heat cycle for me? I don’t want to!”

Minami snorted, waving a hand through the air as if swatting away his words. “What do you think this is, Ginro? A raffle?”

“If only it were transferable,” Ukyo said mildly, though the twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed his amusement. The white-haired omega was definitely enjoying this.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuzuriha chided gently, though her soft laugh betrayed her sympathy for his pout.

Ginro flailed his arms and collapsed back into Gen’s lap again, limbs sprawled like a dying man. “Why me?! Why now?!”

Gen only chuckled, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Ah, Ginro-chan… welcome to the joys of being an omega. I promise it gets better.”

“You know what—why don’t I just hold it in?” Ginro suddenly shot upright, eyes sparkling with a burst of inspiration. His green eyes twinkled with determination. “Yeah! I’ll just hold it in!”

“That’s not how it works—” Gen began, but he was cut off by Ginro’s newfound enthusiasm.

Ukyo narrowed his eyes at all of Ginro’s movement near Gen, his concern evident. “You don’t even know when your heat will come. It’ll hit you out of nowhere when you least expect it, Ginro.”

“I’ll make it work!” Ginro declared, talking right over Ukyo’s warning. “I’ll just ask Senku to cancel the whole Grandbout after my heat cycle’s over. He’s the chief—he can totally put a stop to it!”

Nodding in satisfaction at his “brilliant” plan, Ginro hopped up and waved cheerfully. “Thank you for your advice, I gotta go now—bye!”

“Ginro-cha—…and he’s gone,” Gen sighed, rubbing his forehead as the blonde bounded off with a spring in his step.

“I don’t think you should worry about it right now,” Kirisame said calmly, her tone firm with certainty. “Just let it take its course. You’ll act accordingly when it’s time, right?”

She wasn’t wrong. They’d all be there to help Ginro when the time came.

In the distance, the children’s voices carried as they called out for Senku and Ryusui. Gen glanced up at the sound of his mate’s name and spotted the pups tugging on both alphas’ hands, insisting they join in their game. Senku wore a flabbergasted expression but, to the children’s delight, eventually relented.

Something compelled Senku to lift his head then, crimson eyes locking with Gen’s. He gave him a helpless smile, the kind that made Gen giggle before raising a hand to wave.

Ryusui, ever dramatic, declared himself an adventurous pirate and dubbed Senku the prince. The children squealed with laughter and eagerly accepted the roles.

To think—just last night, after Gen’s long, draining rant to Tsukasa, his mate had actually punched Magma. Gen was secretly upset he hadn’t been there to see it with his own eyes; the omega would have absolutely swooned.

That morning, when Gen awoke, the first thing he noticed was the reddish bruise across Senku’s right knuckle. After persistent pestering, the alpha finally admitted what happened: a confrontation with Magma that had escalated to a single punch.

Gen wished they’d already reinvented phones—surely someone would’ve recorded it. Alas, no such luck.

“You think too loud, Gen,” Ukyo murmured with a quiet chuckle.

Gen stilled, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. “Shush…”

A strange, sour tang caught Gen’s nose, sharp enough that he wrinkled it in disgust before he could stop himself. He brought a hand up to his mouth as his stomach lurched.

“I made everyone lunch,” Francois announced, stepping forward with a gleaming silver platter of neatly arranged sandwiches. “Would you care for an egg salad sandwich?”

Gen’s polite mask nearly cracked. His eye twitched as his gut twisted again. He couldn’t explain it—the smell was overwhelming, offensive, almost rotten to his senses. And yet, the others perked up, thanking Francois as they each plucked a sandwich with obvious delight.

Ukyo, already halfway through his own, turned and held out another toward him. “Here, Gen. Yours.”

“Thank you, Ukyo-chan,” Gen forced out, his usual sing-song tone just slightly too tight. He looked from the sandwich to Ukyo’s concerned face, his throat constricting. The closer the food came, the stronger the odor slammed into him.

He coughed, quickly covering his mouth. “Ah—sorry!” His cheeks flushed pink.

And then his stomach heaved. The tall, terrible wave of nausea was too much to swallow back. Gen gagged audibly, doubling over slightly with a hand braced to his lips. “Bleh—”

Gen stood up immediately and only made it a few steps from the group before doubling over and throwing up. He braced a hand against a tree for support, nails digging into the bark as his body heaved.

All he could hear was the sound of himself retching, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. When it finally eased, Gen felt breathless, his palms clammy with sweat. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to see the worried expressions of his friends.

“I’m not hungry… I think I lost my appetite. Sorry for ruining lunch for you guys.” Gen spoke quickly, embarrassed by his reaction. He couldn’t stand there any longer—not with everyone staring, not with the stench of egg salad hanging in the air.

Oh no. His eyes widened as nausea hit him again.

“I’m gonna head back to the cabin. Not feeling well. Bye.” He spun around and hurried away, not waiting for their responses.

Ukyo called his name, voice full of concern, but Gen didn’t look back. He was afraid if he opened his mouth again, he’d throw up right there.

He gagged into his hand as he pushed along the pathway toward the cabins, mind racing. He’d eaten the same breakfast as everyone else and even had one of those ice popsicles earlier. And Francois—Francois would never serve undercooked food. That went against their very principles.

Gen wasn’t feverish, and it didn’t feel like a cold.

So what on earth had upset his stomach?

Could it really be… just the smell of egg salad sandwiches?

Gen hurried toward the safety of his and Senku’s cabin, the trees blurring past him as his legs carried him faster than his mind could process. A few people tried to greet him along the way, but he ignored them, eyes set straight ahead.

His thoughts were too loud.