In Theory [Senku x Reader]

0.8 | The First Lie

You cough into your arm, muttering under your breath, "Oversalted mushrooms..."

Tsukasa blinks.

Is that concern flickering in his gaze? No—well, maybe.

It probably is.

Either way, the fact that you're still alive under these conditions is nothing short of a scientific anomaly.

Taiju suddenly bursts into laughter, hands planted firmly on his hips as his chest puffs with exaggerated bravado. "Oh man, lately, I've been dreaming about eating so much meat my stomach explodes!"

Tsukasa exhaled a quiet chuckle, crossing his arms. "Well, you three won't have to survive on just that anymore. I'll make sure of it."

You swear, for a moment, those words sound like they're coming straight from an angel.

.✦

You had never been a big fan of fish. Just fish, really. It wasn't like you were a picky eater—hell, you were fine with the rest of seafood. But fish? You hated it.

That is, until now. (Kinda).

After an entire year of surviving on things that would probably be deemed borderline inedible by any modern health official, fish has never smelled—or tasted—so heavenly.

You still don't like it, though. But personal preferences don't mean much in the grand scheme of things anymore. So, without complaint, you eat.

Plus, for the past few weeks, your stomach wasn't always twisting in hunger, a welcome change from the gnawing emptiness you'd grown accustomed to. The steady ache that had once been a constant companion was beginning to fade—slowly, but surely.

Even if fish was at the bottom of your personal food chain, sustenance was sustenance. You weren't about to be ungrateful.

Senku, however, remained as unbothered as ever, poking at the fire with the same dispassionate gaze he gave most things that wasn't directly science.

Across from you, Taiju lets out an exaggerated hum of realization. "Ah, I get it! If we just cook the food, we won't need a fridge to keep it fresh!"

You pause, glancing at him before muttering, "That's... common sense, Taiju." As you speak, you meticulously pick out the tiny bones from your portion.

Senku, staring dryly into the fire, doesn't even look up as he responds. "I'm not cooking these fish."

You snicker. "Yeah, because who knows what might happen. Might mutate and grow legs."

Senku exhales sharply, unimpressed. "Hilarious, you are."

Flashing a grin, you sit a little straighter. "I know. Thanks for noticing my hard work."

Rolling his eyes, Senku shifts his focus back to the fire. "I'm using the aldehydes in the smoke to kill microbes." He then gestures toward Taiju and Tsukasa, finally sparing them a glance. "In words your feeble brains can comprehend—I'm smoking them."

Taiju's nose wrinkles. "You make it sound like we're about to eat poison."

"Everything's poison in the right dose," Senku returns without a beat.

Tsukasa merely nodded, his expression calm. "With Senku and me working together, we should have more than enough preserved food to sustain us." He glances at the small stockpile forming near the fire, calculating. "Once we have a reliable storage method, we can start rationing for long-term survival."

Senku stretches, his shoes pressing into the coarse sand as he tilts his head, cracking his neck with a sharp pop. He barely acknowledges Taiju, who is still enthusiastically sniffing the fish, perhaps a little too eagerly.