The Science of Connection (Senku Ishigami x Reader)

Chapter 2 - Hypotheses and Heartbeats

Your breathing. The subtle shift in your voice when your emotions peaked. The way your hands trembled slightly when you held the photo of a grieving family.

"Wait," you said, narrowing your eyes at him. "You don't care about my answers, do you?"

Senku's smirk returned, sharp and unapologetic. "Bingo. The photos are just a distraction. What I'm really measuring is you: your reactions, your stress levels, how your body betrays what you're feeling even when your words don't."

You stared at him, half-annoyed, half-impressed. "So this whole test is just some elaborate trick to study me?"

He tapped the clipboard with his pen. "Of course. Science is about observing the truth, not the version of it people want to give you. Besides," he added, his tone dropping into something softer but no less confident, "the way you think is fascinating. Every little shift in your expression tells a story, whether you realize it or not."

You felt your face flush, and Senku's smirk deepened.

"Interesting," he said, jotting something else down. "And just like that, I have everything I need for this part of the experiment."

He leaned back, tossing the photos aside like they were yesterday's lab notes. "Let's move on. The real fun is just getting started."

~~~ Test 3: Trust ~~~

You sat in the chair, blindfold firmly secured over your eyes, as Senku's voice drifted to you from across the room.

"Trust isn't just about logic," he said, the faint clinking of objects in the background punctuating his words. "It's instinctual. What you feel when the facts aren't laid out in front of you. That's what we're testing."

Your fingers curled nervously in your lap. "You realize this is a little dramatic for a science experiment, right?"

"Quiet, lab assistant," he quipped, his tone carrying a smirk you could practically hear.

Before you could retort, something cool and smooth was pressed into your hand. "Describe it."

You ran your fingers over the surface. "A sphere. Glass, maybe? It's fragile but polished. Feels like one of those decorative marbles."

"Good," he said, taking it from you. "Next."

A new object replaced the glass-a feather, soft and delicate, brushing your palm. It was unmistakable, and you described it easily.

The next items grew progressively more challenging. A small, ridged shell. A sharp-edged metal coin. Finally, something cold and hard-a knife handle.

Your breath hitched. "Seriously?"

"Relax," Senku said, his voice steady but teasing. "I wouldn't let you handle it if I thought you couldn't."

You swallowed, carefully running your fingers over the blade's edge, stopping short of the sharp point. "It's a knife. Dull on the handle but dangerous at the edge. Steel, I think."

He hummed in approval, taking the knife from you. "Final object."

You waited, but instead of cold steel or smooth glass, you felt something warm and alive against your fingertips.

Your brows furrowed. "It's... different."

"Go on," Senku prompted, his voice quieter now.

You let your fingers trail over the surface. It was soft yet firm, the skin textured with faint ridges and calluses. You could feel the curve of knuckles and the subtle warmth radiating from it.

"It's... a hand," you murmured.

"Describe it," Senku said, though his voice sounded uncharacteristically strained.

~~Senku POV~~

"Warm... strong but careful..."

(Y/N) words hung in the air, and Senku's usual sharp focus faltered for a moment. What is this? It's just a hand. My hand. She's observing it like any other object-purely objective, purely scientific.

But the way she spoke-the subtle weight in her tone, the way her fingers lingered-made it feel anything but objective.

"Used to working with delicate things..."

His lips twitched, wanting to smirk, but the faint warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. Delicate? Sure, I work with beakers and glassware, but... He flexed his free hand, noting the faint scars and calluses from years of experiments. Is she really noticing all that, or is my brain overanalyzing because I'm not used to being the subject of observation?

(Y/N) touch was light, curious, and steady. Not hesitant, like most people would be under these circumstances. And her description-it wasn't cold or clinical. It was... almost personal.

"Steady. Intentional."

That one struck a nerve. Intentional. He prided himself on precision, but hearing her say it aloud made him realize how rarely anyone actually noticed it. People saw results, not the care that went into achieving them.

He watched her closely, trying to read her expression beneath the blindfold. His heart raced-an annoyance, really, because this was just another experiment. Yet, the way she held his hand, the way she described him, was... different.

Focus, Senku. This is about her reaction, not yours.

Still, as she tugged off the blindfold and met his gaze with a small, teasing smile, he couldn't suppress the faint heat rising to his cheeks. He turned away under the guise of writing notes, hoping she wouldn't notice.

~~Y/N POV~~

The silence that followed was almost tangible. You frowned, flexing your fingers. "Did I get it right?"

"Yeah," Senku replied after a beat, his voice quieter than usual. "You got it right."

You tugged the blindfold off, blinking as your eyes adjusted. Senku was standing in front of you, the faintest hint of red creeping along his cheeks as he looked anywhere but at you.

"Was that part of the experiment?" you asked, smirking at his reaction.

"Of course," he said quickly, clearing his throat and turning back to his clipboard. "Every reaction you had was recorded. It's all for the sake of science."

"Right," you said, unable to suppress your grin. "For science."