LAST PAGE | senku x reader

vi. "statues made from longing"

Senku was fifteen years old when he last remembered you in his memories.

It started out as a normal day supposedly, Senku even tried to find you before heading to the science laboratory to have his time be used for something worthwhile. He only saw you when he had to return back to his classroom before the bell rings. You were accompanied by Yuzuriha, someone whom you've also been friends with since middle school.

Your arrival came with a certain jangling sound, an annoying melody it was. No matter how much he claims that he hates how the stars always clanked and bumped into each other, Senku can't deny how much he wants to smile whenever he hears that familiar tune; maybe because it was him who gave it to you. And you always kept it ever since.

Senku only heard a small bit of your conversation, he can make up some sort of invitation that Yuzuriha accepted. He thought about what it could be.

He wonders if you're going to invite him too, or if it's exclusive to only the two of you. Perhaps it sounds intrusive. Who knows; you two could be talking about having a girls' night together. If it were the case, Senku would have felt stupid and embarrassed to have hoped for an invite as well.

A smile was what greeted him that morning. He wished he could smile back at you too, not that he could. Whenever you'd smile at him, he never seems to smile back; because he didn't know how to.

Smiling is something Senku is used to. It's his innate reaction when he has an idea, when he's putting that idea into action, and when he succeeds. It's supposed to be easy given that it's a natural response. But when you're in the picture, he really found it hard that it sounded so foolish and cheesy.

In the end, he doesn't smile at you. Instead, the bell rang and sat you down.

Senku thinks school is important. But he doesn't really need it. He can learn on his own at a faster rate than any given curriculum can. During class, he spends it reading about a different subject, or brainstorming on a new or current project. And even sometimes, you.

Sometimes he marveled about you, stared at you, and occasionally dreamt about you whenever he'd fall asleep. It didn't help that his seat had a clear view of your back. You were busy writing the lesson down on your notebook; something he knew that you didn't need, but you still wrote it down, not for the sake of yours but for the sake of others who would likely borrow your notes during exam week.

He wondered if you found any subject in school difficult. Probably not, considering you do advanced reading yourself before the actual lessons. But if you ever did, maybe you would have come to him for help. He wouldn't mind.

He stared at how your hand held a pen, you guided it to glide on the paper. softly. It's been a while since he last saw your handwriting. He never had a reason to. You never shared your notes with him because he never needed it.

Senku's own musing was only disrupted when the teacher tried to get a skittish reaction out of him by a seemingly out of the blue question, he doesn't like this specific teacher at how they always try to ridicule a student. A mistake it was. It didn't take him more than a glimpse at the board to get an answer. The teacher felt spooked, it didn't help that they basically asked a question within Senku's field; mathematics.