The sea shimmered under the afternoon sun, waves lapping gently against the shore as the silhouette of the Perseus grew clearer with each passing moment. Ishigami Village had erupted in celebration—cheers, laughter, the sound of feet racing toward the beach. Children pointed excitedly, elders murmured blessings, and the air buzzed with relief.

They were back.

Senku stood tall at the bow, wind tousling his hair, his usual confident smirk in place. Chrome waved both arms like a man possessed, and Kohaku was already halfway down the stairs before the ship had fully docked.

But your eyes weren’t searching for them.

They were searching for him.

Gen.

Your heart thudded against your ribs as he appeared—elegant as ever, descending the makeshift stairs with a grace that defied the rough wood beneath his feet. His cloak fluttered behind him, and his blue eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on you.

He smiled.

Not his usual teasing grin.

Something softer.

Something real.

It had been almost a month. A month of wondering, of waiting, of replaying his last words in your mind like a song you couldn’t stop humming.

“When I get back, I want to talk to you about something important, {{user}}-chan.”

You hadn’t forgotten.

Not the way he’d said it. Not the seriousness in his gaze. Not the way he’d lingered just a moment longer before turning to board the ship.

Now he was here.

And the moment was approaching.

You stood still as the crowd surged around you, voices rising in welcome, arms reaching for hugs and stories. But Gen moved through them like a thread pulled toward its needle—calm, deliberate, eyes never leaving yours.

When he reached you, he didn’t speak right away.

He just looked at you.

And in that silence, you felt it.

The shift.

The promise.

The beginning of whatever came next.