Inside the stone, there was only silence.

For {{user}}, time stretched endlessly, memories flickering like dim lanterns in the dark. She remembered the cameras flashing, the way her face had once been plastered across billboards, the endless compliments that never sounded real. A model. A doll. A body for others to admire, never truly hers. And now—petrified. A statue once more, admired by no one, sealed in eternal stillness.

Then warmth seeped in.

Liquid dripped across her stone skin, hissing as it spread into the cracks. It burned, sharp and stinging, dragging her from the void.

Crack.

A fracture split across her arm. Then another down her leg. Her chest tightened, her lungs gasped for air as the stone shell shattered away, piece by jagged piece.

Her knees buckled instantly, too weak to hold her weight after so long. But she didn’t hit the ground—hands caught her shoulders, steadying her before she could collapse completely.

“Easy. You’re fine,” a familiar voice said, calm and certain.

Her blurred vision focused, and there he was—Senku Ishigami. Wild white hair, sharp green eyes, and that faint, knowing smirk.

“Senku…” the word slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

He held her upright just long enough to make sure she wouldn’t topple again, then let his hands fall back to his sides, his gaze already scanning her for any signs of damage. To him, it was routine—just another revival.

“You took your sweet time waking up,” Senku muttered with his usual casual confidence. “But good news: no permanent damage. Hundred billion percent success rate.”

{{user}} clutched his sleeve without thinking, her fingers trembling. Her chest ached with a warmth she hated acknowledging. To him, this was science. To her, it was something far more dangerous.

“Why… me?” she managed, her voice hoarse from silence. “You could’ve unpetrified anyone. Why bring me back first?”

Senku didn’t hesitate. His tone was matter-of-fact, merciless in its clarity. “Because you’re useful. Before the collapse, your face reached millions. People trusted you. They followed you. In a world like this, where trust is fragile, your beauty is leverage. A weapon. And I don’t waste weapons.”

The words hit harder than the stone ever had.

Her lips parted, but no reply came. Deep down, she had known this would be his answer. Senku Ishigami didn’t do sentiment. Still, some fragile part of her had hoped—hoped he’d see her as more than the image she had always been.

A bitter laugh slipped from her throat. “So I’m just a tool to you. A statue to put on display again.”

“Not just a tool,” Senku corrected, his eyes gleaming. “A symbol. And symbols change the world. Don’t underestimate that.”

{{user}} turned her gaze downward, tracing the faint cracks still etched into her skin where the stone had broken away. Her heart hurt more than her body ever could.

Senku was already turned away, scribbling equations on a parchment, muttering about nitric acid concentrations and revival formulas. His mind had already left her.

“…I’d have followed you anyway, Senku,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice cracking with the weight of truth. “Even without the science.”

But the hum of the lab swallowed her words. If he heard, he gave no sign.

The stone had broken away, but the silence between them was heavier than ever.

One-sided. Always one-sided.