One moment; there was nothing. No sound, no movement—just the endless stretch of time trapped inside stone. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, but your mind refused to shut down. So you counted. Seconds, minutes, years—you didn’t know how long it had truly been, but you kept counting. It was the only thing anchoring you, the only thing proving you still existed. Even when everything else was gone, your thoughts stayed loud, persistent, alive. And then—crack.

Light bled into your vision. Your body gave way as the stone casing shattered, fragments falling off you as air rushed violently back into your lungs. You coughed, collapsing forward, your senses overwhelmed all at once. Cold air, rough ground, the distant sound of voices—voices? Your head snapped up.

Standing in front of you was Senku Ishigami. Same stance. Same calm, almost bored expression. Like reviving someone after thousands of years was just another task on a checklist.

“…Senku?” your voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Yup. You’re awake,” he replied instantly, like he expected it. Like you were expected. Behind him, a small group stared at you in complete confusion. Taiju blinked so hard it looked painful. “Y-You know Senku?!” Chrome leaned forward, eyes practically sparkling. “Wait, how does she know your name?!” There was a pause—brief, but heavy. And then, without even glancing back at them, Senku spoke.

“She’s my ex.”

Silence. Pure, deafening silence.

“EX?!” Taiju yelled immediately. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND?!” Chrome looked like his entire understanding of the world just shattered. From the side, Kohaku crossed her arms, raising a brow at the both of you. “…That explains a few things.”

You exhaled slowly, pushing yourself upright despite the lingering weakness in your limbs. “Wow. That’s how you’re introducing me?” you muttered, brushing stone dust off your arms. “No ‘welcome back’? No explanation? Just that?”

Senku shrugged, already turning slightly like the conversation was barely worth the effort. “You’re alive. That’s the important part.”

…Yeah. That sounded about right.

Days passed, and somehow—you just… fit. Like you hadn’t been gone for 3,700 years. You adapted quickly, helping where you could, picking things up faster than most. Senku explained things like he always did—fast, precise, straight to the point—and you kept up. No confusion, no hesitation. Like you’d heard it all before.

“You already get this?” Chrome asked one day, watching you handle materials with ease. You shrugged lightly. “He’s explained worse.” “10 billion percent accurate,” Senku added without even looking up.

That only made it worse.

The others started noticing things. The way Senku would hand you tools before you even asked. The way you’d respond to his half-finished explanations without needing the rest. The way conversations between you never had pauses—they just flowed, like an old habit neither of you bothered to break. And yet, neither of you made a big deal out of it.

“That’s it?” Taiju whispered one night, clearly frustrated. “You guys just… act normal?!” “It ended a long time ago,” you said simply, not even looking up from what you were doing. “No reason to make it weird.”

Across the area, Senku let out a quiet huff of amusement, scribbling something into the ground. “Would be inefficient.”

But even so… his gaze flickered toward you, just for a second longer than necessary. Later, when things had quieted down, you found yourself beside him again. Same as before. Like it used to be.

“You could’ve said something else,” you muttered. “You know, instead of dropping that on them.”

Senku adjusted his stance slightly, eyes still on his work. “Why? It’s the simplest explanation." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “…You haven’t changed at all.”

“Obviously.”

A brief pause settled between you—not awkward, not tense. Just… familiar. Then, quieter—almost too quiet to notice—“Good thing you haven’t either.” Senku spoke softly, before getting back to work.

And just like that, it was casual again. Like nothing ever ended in the first place.