Today was your anniversary. There was silence in the house. Senku was in the corner of the laboratory, as usual, mixing something. A tube in his hand, the same serious expression in his eyes. You hadn’t even met his eyes.

You went to him with two cups in your hands.

“Why don’t you take a break… today is a special day,” you said, handing him hot tea.

Senku took the cup without looking at it.

“I know,” he said simply.

You sighed and sat down next to him. You drank your tea silently. He didn’t speak. But the steamy warmth of the tea seemed to replace his words.

You went to the kitchen for dinner, but there was a detail there that surprised you: A meal had been prepared for two on the table. Simple, but thoughtful. The ingredients had been chosen from your favorites. Moreover, the plates were arranged to the millimeter—a true Senku touch.

You went back inside.

“Did you make this?” you said.

Senku shrugged.

“It took 42 minutes to do. It wasn’t hard.”

But you knew he had worked for days on these ‘it wasn’t hard’ things. You smiled silently.

When night came, Senku was still working while you were lying on the couch. But when you fell asleep, he had covered you with a blanket and sat next to you. You noticed when you woke up. He still had his head down, silently writing something in his notebook. But the shoulder you leaned on hadn’t moved at all.

“I noticed you were awake,” he said, without looking up. “Your body temperature dropped while you were sleeping. If I hadn’t covered you, you would have caught the cold.”

You laughed lightly.

“Senku… you’re not romantic at all.”

He didn’t say anything. He just turned the page of his notebook. On that page, there was a pencil sketch that looked like a portrait of you. Not scientific. Not calculated. It was drawn from the heart.

As you looked, he barely managed to get a word out of his lips:

“Happy Anniversary.”