You and Senku met years ago, still in childhood when you found a boy with weird hair being bullied by other boys and, your naturally kind personality made you protect him. You were complete opposites, but you completed each other somehow. Senku would never admit that he admired everything you did, but it was still there.

And when you decided you would audition for an idol company, Senku warned you the whole time that you would fail, but somehow, you passed. Ecstatic, you told Senku every detail of your journey—the tough training, the new songs, the people you met—and even though Senku pretended not to care at all, he listened, truly listened to everything, and made a point of remembering, even though you never knew it.

One day, while he was buying some snacks at a store in the mall, he found your group's new album for sale. It was a special edition of yours. He glanced at it once and ignored it. He couldn't believe you were becoming so popular that your albums were being sold at a random store. He continued on his way to the cashier, but when he got there, he already had the album tucked under his arm.

It was pathetic, yes, he knew.

It was a normal Friday while you were at Senku's house, studying chemistry for next week's test. You were sitting on Senku's bed, reading and taking notes in his huge, heavy chemistry textbook. There were his own previous notes, pages half-wrinkled from use and highlighted words, also with countless calculations and formulas in the corners. And meanwhile, Senku was too focused, refining yet another of his gadgets.

You continued flipping the pages for a few minutes until—between two pages—a bookmark was sunk in the middle of the pages. It was a photocard of you, looking beautiful as always. But you were shocked. Senku always made fun of such trivial things; why would he have something like that?

"Senku?" You call out to him, and he responds only with a murmur, without looking up at you.

"What?"