Archive of Our Own

The lively atmosphere was intoxicating enough to make Hyoga feel light-headed, so he quietly slipped away from the crowd before he really got drunk. He had never been fond of crowds, anyway.

The people aboard Perseus — the ship they were all traveling on, as he’d learned after his third depetrification — seemed to just love partying, whatever the occasion was. Tonight, they were celebrating their 30th day of their voyage to America.

Such a ridiculous reason, Hyoga had thought with a scoff.

Then again, maybe they just needed a way to keep themselves entertained. Doing the same routine day after day, confined to a single space, surrounded by nothing but the endless sea, for so long could easily drive anyone insane. Hyoga knew this all too well, having spent plenty of time behind the cold steel bars of the Kingdom of Science.

Still, Hyoga was not one to turn down a drink. Relaxation wasn’t something he often allowed himself, but it didn’t hurt now and then. Even so, he knew when to stop, unlike a certain mentalist, who was still humoring other people, despite not drinking a single drop himself.

Speaking of the mentalist, there was something between them now — something even the dense Chrome had noticed. Hyoga would never admit it, but he and Gen had undeniably grown closer over the past few weeks. It seemed Gen had been making an effort to mend their relationship, knowing they couldn’t avoid each other on the ship, and he had more than succeeded.

It had all started on the first night of their journey. Hyoga, restless and unable to sleep, had been standing on the deck, staring out at the vast sea and starry night sky. Gen had walked by, claiming he couldn’t sleep either, and had begun a small talk about various random topics. The same thing happened the next night, and the night after, and the one after that too, with their conversations growing longer each time. Before they realized it, it had become their nightly routine.

Gen had never harbored any ill feelings toward Hyoga. If anything, he might have feared him — of his strength, of his ruthlessness — but that was it. As for Hyoga himself… Well, Hyoga was a changed man, or so he dared to think. He used to despise Gen for his betrayal, valuing him only for being a treacherous, filthy traitor who did his job properly. Nowadays, he felt nothing of the sort anymore. He tolerated Gen annoying and teasing him, he didn’t mind Gen blabbering about whatever to him, he felt a strange sense of ease with the noisy man by his side. He didn’t object to Gen’s occasional, casual touches, either — sometimes lingering a few seconds longer than necessary.

Oh, and Hyoga had discovered that he liked messing with Gen, making the smaller man blush, squeak, flustered, or… just getting any kind of reaction from him. It was amusing, honestly, almost endearing, like poking at a tiny pet hamster. A roborovski, probably. Or a djungarian.

Perhaps, that was why Hyoga couldn’t take his eyes off Gen. The mentalist’s strange two-toned hair stood out in the crowd, and Hyoga could see he was currently having the time of his life, smiling and laughing without a care in the world, surrounded by equally loud, party-loving people.

“Sorry, but I’m more of a cola person.”

Was what Gen would always say with a practiced smile whenever he was offered a drink. It wasn’t like sugary carbonated drinks were much better than alcohol, but that was his excuse.

“Aww, c’mon, Gen! Why not?” Ginro whined from his perch on a barstool beside him, his cheeks already flushed from drink. “Just one sip!”

Ever patient, Gen replied smoothly, “I’m not very good with alcohol, you see. Besides, watching everyone else enjoy themselves is more than enough for me~”

“You always say that, but is that really enough?” Ginro pressed, leaning closer. “You’re always listening to other people’s problems. Don’t you have your own? Just let loose for once! A little alcohol wouldn’t hurt!”

“Ginro, stop bothering Gen,” Kinro cut in with a stern tone. He’d been sitting nearby, enduring his brother’s antics for the past hour.

“Tch, you’re no fun~” Ginro huffed, but he didn’t push further, instead returning to his drink with a pout.

Gen shot Kinro a small, grateful smile, which the elder brother acknowledged with a nod.

Only for a moment, it seemed like Ginro had given up. Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “Whoa! Gen, look! What’s that!?” he exclaimed, acting surprised and pointing dramatically at the sky.

His outburst startled Gen and everyone nearby, who looked up in confusion.

“Huh? What is it?”

“What’s there? I don’t see anything.”

“Sorry, Ginro-chan, I think I missed—”

Quick as a mouse, Ginro grabbed his half-empty glass of beer and shoved it to Gen’s mouth. “Just try this! It’s so good!”

“G-Ginro-dono, please stop that!”

“Ginro, you—! Stop it!”

Matsukaze and Kinro jumped to intervene, but it was too late. By the time they managed to pull the youngest away, the glass was empty.

Ginro wore a triumphant, smug grin. “See? It’s good, right?”

“Oh dear,” Francois muttered under their breath, having silently observed the chaos while serving the other customers. Their sharp eyes caught the faint hue of pink beginning to spread across Gen’s face.

“Eheh—Ahah… Ahahaha~ It shure ish sho goooood~” Gen slurred with a dopey grin, entirely unlike his usual composed demeanor.

“Gen-dono, are you alright?” Matsukaze asked, his concern evident as he stepped closer.

“Kinro-sama, Matsukaze-sama, I suggest you exercise caution,” Francois said calmly, already piecing together what was happening.

“ ‘Caution’? What do you—”

“Kinwo-chaaaaan~”

Gen collapsed against Kinro, leaning all his weight on the bespectacled man. The grin remained plastered on his face as he gazed up at the brunet with glittering, unfocused eyes.

Kinro stiffened at the sudden proximity, unused to such intimacy. “G-Gen, what are you—”

“Kinwo-chan, why you awways sho serioush? Sho cool! Gen shall give you his gratitude~!”

“What—”

Before Kinro could fully process what was going on, Gen leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

The crowd around them choked.

Kirisame, seated just a few chairs away, stared wide-eyed in shock, a furious blush crept across her face. Beside her, Homura, who had been unusually engaged in a quiet ‘girl talk’—Ahem, conversation with the black-haired girl, mirrored the same wide-eyed expression. Though she wasn’t blushing, her mouth hung open in disbelief, and her glass slipped from her hand, clattering onto the counter.

“W-w-what—What are you doing!?” Kinro spluttered, his face burning red as he hurriedly pushed Gen away.

“Showing thanks, duh!” Gen chirped with a carefree laugh, his eyes wandering until they locked onto the younger brother.

Ginro yelped in fear as their gazes met.

“Ginro-dono! Behind me!” Matsukaze stepped forward, placing himself protectively between Ginro and the approaching Gen.

“Ah~ Mashukaze-chan~!” Gen giggled, staggering closer. “Ever sho loyal, sho admirable~!”

Before Matsukaze could react, Gen planted a kiss squarely on his crescent moon-shaped depetrification scar, causing the warrior to freeze instantly, as though petrified for the second time.

“Oh no! Matsukaze! Matsukaze!? Wake up! Don’t leave me alone! You’re supposed to protect meeee!” Ginro cried, now looking thoroughly panicked, defenseless.

“Eheh~ Ginwo-chaaan~”

“Eeeek! Nooooo!” Ginro screamed, bolting from the bar in a panic.

“Ginwo-chan, wait~! We playing hide-and-seek now? Oookay~!” Gen called cheerfully, staggering off after him.

“I should report this to Ryusui-sama,” Francois concluded, leaving behind the bewildered crowd and the trail of shocked, dumbfounded murmurs echoing through the bar.

Hyoga had left the bar to find a quiet spot where he could enjoy the calm night alone. Only minutes earlier, he had seen Gen laughing and socializing with the others, and he’d thought nothing unusual would happen. Just another ordinary evening on Perseus.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched scream disrupted the stillness, jolting Hyoga out of his thoughts. His hand instinctively reached for his spear as he readied himself for any danger. Without wasting a moment, he rushed toward the source of the commotion, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings.

As he neared, he spotted people fleeing in terror, their faces pale and panicked. Some tripped in their haste, while others yelled incoherent warnings. It wasn’t clear what — or who — they were running from.

It looked like a scene out of a zombie movie.

The thought crossed his mind. It did sound absurd, but in this world, where a mysterious light had turned the whole human population on Earth to stone, nothing seemed impossible. A zombie almost made more sense than anything else.

Then his eyes caught the source of the chaos: A flash of bright purple.

Oh. It was just Gen.

… Wait, Gen? The same Gen who was a people person, always surrounded by one, and the one people would always come to whenever they had worries?

Hyoga frowned deeply.

What on earth was going on? Why were people running from him? And why did Gen look so… dumb?

Amid the fleeing crowd, Hyoga spotted Magma and Yo standing near the edge of the commotion. The two men seemed unfazed, likely still hazy from the alcohol they’d been enjoying moments earlier.

“What? What’s up with everyone? Why are they running and screaming?” Yo asked, scratching his head, confused.

Magma squinted at the figure coming up to them with clumsy steps. “Huh? Is that—”

“Oh, the mighty Magma-chan~!” Gen’s face lit up upon finding his next target of affection — or rather, victim.

Magma bursted out laughing. “Mwahaha! What’s wrong with you!? You look stupid!”

“Heheheh~” Gen’s grin grew wider. He gazed up at Magma with sparkling eyes. “You sho strooong~!”

Before Magma could react, perhaps to laugh harder or flex his muscles in agreement, Gen lunged forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

The larger man froze for a moment, his brain catching up to the situation, before scrambling backward, distancing himself from Gen. “Mwaaaargh!? What was that for!?”

Yo’s expression shifted from confusion to horror as he realized what was going on. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Gen, who was now grinning at him.

“Yo-chaaaaan~!”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re drunk, aren’t you!? Stay back!” Yo exclaimed, holding up his hands defensively.

“Thank you fo’ your hard work back on the Tweashure Island!” Gen giggled, his voice a singsong slur. “You were sho awesome, sho cool with the gun!”

The policeman couldn’t evade Gen’s unpredictable, swaying movements, who then leaned in and delivered a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Ueeeeiiiii!? What the hell, Mentalist!?” Yo screeched, furiously wiping his face.

But Gen was already moving on. A dreamy, content smile plastered across his face as he moved toward his next victim.

And there was Chrome.

Unfortunately for him, his curiosity had led him to investigate the commotion. When his eyes met Gen’s, the younger boy froze like a small cat caught in the gaze of a hungry fox.

Curiosity killed the cat, indeed. 

“Chwome-chan~!”

“W-wait, Gen! Don’t—” Chrome stammered, taking a hesitant step back.

“Awways sho curioush! Sho cute~!” Gen cooed, squishing Chrome’s face and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Waaaaaaah!” Chrome screamed in horror, his hands flying to his warm cheek as if trying to erase the memory. “This is baaaaaad!”

“T-this is really bad…” Suika trembled, clutching her mask-helmet tighter as she witnessed the chaos unfolding before her eyes. She had been following Chrome to scour the area, but what she found was Gen, who had turned into a threat. A very dangerous one.

She knew it was no time to stand around and merely watch like a bystander. Leaving Chrome behind, she got inside her mask-helmet and rolled off as fast as she could to warn the others.

“K-Kohaku! Senku! Gen is…!”

Hyoga saw everything from the shadows. He let out a small chuckle behind his mask. This was far more entertaining than he’d expected — as long as he was not on the receiving end of the mentalist’s bizarre antics.

He had no intention to obtrude. Keeping a safe distance, he followed Gen, who was now humming some incomprehensible tune while scanning for his next victim.

Taiju and Yuzuriha had been enjoying the calm night breeze near the ship’s railings, chatting and laughing happily. Their peaceful moment came to an abrupt end by the distant sound of screams. Not long after, Gen’s wobbly figure came into view.

Taiju immediately stepped in front of Yuzuriha. “Gen? Is that you?” he called out cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“Hewwo, Taiju-chan, Yuzuwiha-chan! Ish a beautiful night, no?” Gen greeted cheerfully.

“Gen-kun, are you feeling alright? You’re talking… really funny,” Yuzuriha said hesitantly, peeking out from behind Taiju.

“Never been better!” Gen chuckled, closing the distance between them with a light, zigzagging step.

Alarmed by the erratic movements, Taiju stood firm, spreading his arms to shield Yuzuriha. He assumed the worst by the screams just moments earlier — that this weird Gen would attack them. “Gen, stop! I won’t let you hurt Yuzuriha!”

Yuzuriha gasped and Taiju shut his eyes, bracing himself for an impact—

—only to feel a soft, featherlight peck on his cheek.

“Heheh~! You two weally cute~! Get together shoon~! And thank you fo’ being Shenku-chan’s friends!” Gen giggled before stumbling off, leaving the pair dumbfounded.

“W-what just happened…?”

The scene was far too entertaining. A drunken Gen had turned into a kiss-happy monster, terrorizing everyone on the ship with unexpected pecks. Hyoga wondered idly whether Gen would remember any of this when he sobered up. The thought of teasing him later made the stoic man chuckle, which he hurriedly concealed with a soft cough.

That was close. He almost lost his cool.

Gen continued his ‘affectionate ambushes’ on the crew with alarming efficiency. His somehow-still-sharp wit allowed him to sniff out everyone’s hiding spots. The craftsman Kaseki and several other unsuspecting men whose names Hyoga didn’t bother to remember had all fallen victim. They were all rendered speechless, flustered, and mortified by the kisses on their foreheads or cheeks.

Oddly enough, and to Hyoga’s slight surprise, the women were spared — perhaps a shred of decency remained in the drunk mentalist.

But the chaos only escalated.

“Huuuh? Why’s everyone running away~?” Gen wondered aloud, his tone playful as ever. The goofy smile that never left his face turned into a happy grin when his eyes landed on a twin pigtailed girl. “Ohhh, Nikki-chan~!”

The poor girl had seen what happened with her own eyes. Her pure heart, of a hopeless romantic who believed a kiss should only be shared between two individuals who truly loved each other, betrayed her attempt to stay calm. Imagining Gen would do the same to her caused her tough exterior to shatter, her face rapidly turning red. 

(Nikki was probably the one most flustered, even more than some of Gen’s victims. Hyoga had never seen a face that red before.)

Gen’s grin grew wider as he got closer to her. “Nikki-chan~ Did you—”

“D-d-d-don’t come near me!” Nikki shouted, her voice unusually high-pitched. She reflexively shoved him, sending him spinning like a top and losing his balance.

“Whoa~! Gen’s spinning~!” Gen laughed, completely unfazed by his near fall.

“Gen!”

“Oof!”

Just before Gen could hit the ground face-first, Ukyo appeared and caught him. The sonar technician effortlessly steadied the younger man, who now rested against his chest.

(For the record, Hyoga did not flinch slightly as if he’d almost moved to catch Gen himself. No, he didn’t. No one saw him, so he definitely did not do it.)

Ukyo was one brave, naïve soul who approached the kissing monster first.

“Gen, are you—” he began, concern evident in his voice, but then he paused, realizing the futility of asking the obvious. “No, you’re not alright, are you?”

Gen looked up at him, their faces now only inches apart. “Oh my! If ish not Ukyo-chan! The kind, mature, princely Ukyo-chan! Heheheh~!”

Ukyo blinked, trying to ignore how close they were. “You’re terribly drunk,” he said, his tone patient but firm. “Did someone force you to drink alcohol?”

Instead of answering, Gen tilted his head curiously, clearly not paying attention. “Say, Ukyo-chan, did you see Ginwo-chan?”

“Ginro? I think I saw him hiding in a barrel on the front deck,” Ukyo replied truthfully, though a bit confused at the sudden question. “Now, let’s get you—”

“Got it! Thankies, Ukyo-chan~! Wuv you~! ♡”

Gen flung his arms around Ukyo’s neck and pressed a loud, exaggerated kiss to his earlobe, complete with a wet-sounding smooch.

For Ukyo’s sensitive ears, the sound was overwhelming. He quickly brought a hand to cover his ear as his brain tried to process what had just happened. By the time his face turned bright red, Gen was already gone, cheerfully staggering toward the deck in search of Ginro.

Even with information from Ukyo, finding Ginro was not exactly easy. The front deck was packed with barrels, and Gen’s drunken, clumsy hands struggled to pry each lid open. His strength, usually unimpressive, was practically nonexistent in his tipsy state.

“Ginwo-chaaan? Where are youuuu~?” he called in a singsong voice as he peered into another empty barrel.

“Found you, Gen!”

Kohaku’s voice cut through the air. She appeared dramatically from atop a mast, Suika held securely in her arms. With a swift leap, she landed on the deck and set the little girl down.

“Kohaku, be careful!” Suika warned. “Gen is—Gen is a scary monster now!”

Kohaku smirked confidently, crossing her arms. “Ha! I don’t know what kind of monster he’s supposed to be, but no monster is a match for me!”

“Oooh, hewwo, Kohaku-chan, Shuika-chan~!” Gen greeted with his almost-permanent goofy smile, turning unsteadily on his feet to face them. He nearly toppled over, but caught himself just in time.

Suika hid behind Kohaku, clinging to her tightly. Kohaku narrowed her eyes and cracked her knuckles, prepared to knock Gen out cold if he so much as tried anything.

“Gen’s looking fo’ Ginwo-chan,” Gen explained, wobbling slightly. He gestured vaguely at the rows of barrels. Two already had their lids removed, both empty. “Ukyo-chan said he’s in der. Do you know which one ish his?”

“Huh?” Kohaku blinked, stunned by the unexpected question. Suika peeked out nervously from behind her. Neither immediately responded as they exchanged bewildered glances.

Gen was patient even when he was not in the right state of mind. He tilted his head like a curious fox, waiting for an answer.

“That one,” Kohaku finally said, pointing to a barrel that was slightly out of place.

The barrel suddenly tipped over with a loud thud, its lid popping off as Ginro crawled out, looking like he’d seen Ibara back to life.

Kohaku’s eyesight was as impressive as ever.

“K-Kohaku! How could you!?” Ginro wailed, betrayal written all over his face.

“Heheh~! Der you are, Ginwo-chaaan~!” Gen sang delightfully as he stumbled toward the blond boy.

Ginro scrambled backward in panic, but his escape was cut short when he hit the wall behind him.

“L-look! I—I’m sorry, okay!?” he babbled, his voice rising in pitch as Gen closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorryyyyyy! I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

Kohaku frowned, crossing her arms. “What did you do, Ginro?” she asked sharply, sensing that he was somehow responsible for the chaos.

“I don’t know!” Ginro cried. “I just—I just—”

“Aww, dun be afraid, Ginwo-chan~” Gen cooed in a saccharine voice, now towering over the trembling boy. He put his hands on the wall beside the younger boy’s head, effectively locking him in place. “You a mischievous one, but thanks to you, Gen got to taste such a delish beer~!”

“You’re not helping at—EEEEEEEEEK!!”

Ginro’s shriek was deafening as Gen leaned down and delivered a kiss right in the middle of his forehead.

“Men are such troublesome creatures,” Kohaku sighed, shaking her head in exasperation.

“A-are Gen and Ginro okay…?” Suika asked timidly, worried.

“Don’t mind them. They’ll be fine,” Kohaku replied with a shrug before ushering the little girl away from the scene. “Come on, Suika, we’ll go somewhere else.”

Hyoga’s eyes gleamed with amusement. This was getting better by the second. He had always appreciated the usual, sharp-witted Gen who did his job properly, even thought highly of his — as Hyoga often said himself — ‘filthiness’. But this drunken version of Gen? Oh, he was something else entirely. A marvel.

Every unintelligible word, every clumsy step, and every unpredictable action was fascinating; Hyoga would never get bored watching him. This Gen was chaos personified, a walking disaster with an unsuspecting smile. It was as if he had been possessed by the God of Mischief himself.

Hyoga had always valued only people he deemed ‘superior’. While nothing about this version of Gen was ‘superior’, it didn’t make him regard Gen any less. In fact, it added a new layer to the mentalist’s worth — pure entertainment that added colors to their monotonous days on the ship. And of course, more things to tease him about later.

… By the way, did Hyoga mishear or did Gen really refer to himself in third-person pronoun in this state?

That’s… cute.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hyoga spotted someone approaching the scene: Tsukasa.

Hyoga’s lips curved into a smirk behind his mask. This was about to get even more interesting. Would "The Strongest Primate High Schooler" remain unfazed in the face of the kissing monster’s unforgiving affection, or would he fall victim like the others?

“Over here, Tsuka-san!”

Gen turned his head at the voice unsteadily. His eyes lit up with glee as he spotted Minami and Tsukasa approaching. Letting go of the now-unconscious Ginro, he straightened up — or at least tried to — and grinned widely.

“Heyyyy, Minami-chan, Shukasha-chan~!” he greeted, waving his hands excitedly.

Minami immediately stopped several paces away, eyeing the mentalist warily. “Be careful, Tsuka-san, we don’t know what he’s capable of!” she warned.

The ever calm Tsukasa didn’t respond to her directly, but he nodded in acknowledgement, his focus kept on Gen and the disarray he had caused.

“Gen,” he called out, his deep voice calm but firm, “stop it this instant. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

“Huuuh? Stop whaaat?” Gen asked, tilting his head in confusion. His foggy mind didn’t really register what Tsukasa said, too fatigued to think.

“This… whatever you’re doing. You’re causing havoc,” Tsukasa replied steadily, gesturing faintly to the situation around them — to the mess Gen had brought about.

“But Gen’s just giving everyone his wuv!” Gen protested, crossing his arms and stomping childishly.

“You’re terrorizing everyone with your ‘love’!” Minami snapped from behind a wall, glaring accusingly at the tipsy mentalist.

“Gen’s not scawy! Minami-chan’s sho mean!”

“Yes, you are! And I’m not mean!”

“Gen, Minami, please,” Tsukasa interjected, sounding a bit troubled. “This isn’t the time to be arguing.”

Minami quickly lowered her head slightly, her cheeks reddening as she mumbled meekly, “S-sorry, Tsuka-san.”

Of course, not before shooting one last glare at Gen.

Tsukasa shifted his attention back to Gen, stepping closer to him cautiously. “Gen, you…” He paused, his voice softening as he searched for the right words. “Yes, Gen, you’re not yourself right now.”

“Gen’s still Gen, though?” Gen tilted his head again, not understanding anything.

Tsukasa remained patient. He moved his hands to rest on Gen’s shoulders, light but firm, a gesture meant to keep him calm and get him back to his senses. “What I mean is—”

Tsukasa didn’t realize his fate was sealed the moment he touched Gen.

Gen looked up at the taller man, his face lit with delight that Tsukasa noticed a bit too late.

“You know, Shukasha-chan,” he began, holding on to Tsukasa’s broad chest as if to steady himself. The latter, too soft-hearted to push him away, stayed still, though his muscles tensed.

“Gen’s never said this, but you weally tall and handsome and strong and charismatic! Everything Gen’s not! Ish unfair!” Gen continued on, pouting for a moment before breaking into a giggle. “But Gen doesn’t hate it!”

“Gen—” Tsukasa’s words caught in his throat as the smaller man unexpectedly rose onto his tiptoes. He barely had time to react when Gen leaned forward and pressed a light, deliberate kiss.

With their height difference, Gen’s lips could only reach Tsukasa’s jaw, even on tiptoes. Still, it was enough to surprise both Tsukasa and Minami.

“T-Tsuka-saaan!?” Minami shrieked, her face turning a deep crimson. She covered her face with her hands, though her fingers parted slightly for an unashamed peek.

Tsukasa thought he stopped breathing as the situation took an unexpected turn. Aside from Mirai, he had never kissed or been kissed by anyone else. Although it was not exactly on the lips, it was still his first kiss — his first real display of affection.

A strange, unfamiliar warmth spread through him. His usually composed expression crumbled as red flushed his skin. He took several shaky steps backward, releasing Gen as his hand flew to his jaw, brushing the lingering sensation with trembling fingers. He turned his head away, unable to look at the older man.

“G-G-Gen, y-you shouldn’t—T-that kind of thing…” he stuttered, his voice cracking slightly.

It was such a rare sight — so unlike the strong, unshakable Tsukasa — that it made Gen’s smile stretch even wider. He clasped his hands together joyfully, enjoying the reaction.

“Ahahah~! Shukasha-chan, look at youuu! Sho red! You not scawy at all like dis! You weally younger than Gen, huh? S’rioushly, sho cuteee~!”

Hyoga had to clutch his mask, his shoulders shaking as he fought to keep his laughter at bay. This was, without a doubt, the single greatest thing he had ever witnessed.

Who would have thought that "The Strongest Primate High Schooler" — who was feared, respected, and admired for his sheer strength and unmatched combat skills — could be utterly undone by something as simple as a kiss? And not just any kiss, but one from a tipsy, scrawny, smaller man who wouldn’t last a second in a real fight.

Oh, how Hyoga wished he could carve this moment into his memory forever.

“I see. So this is the ‘kissing monster’ Francois warned me about.”

Ryusui’s voice rang through the chaos, smooth and amused, as he took in the sight before him.

Minami, who had been frantically shaking Tsukasa in an attempt to wake him from his tranced state, whipped her head toward the familiar voice.

“Ryusui!” she cried, half relieved and half exasperated. Relieved, because finally, someone else had arrived to deal with this mess. Exasperated, because it had taken them long enough that poor Tsukasa had to step in first and ended up like… this.

“Do something about him—about Gen!”

At the mention of his name, Gen, who had been wandering off, probably in search of his next unfortunate victim, perked up and turned back, his expression brightening. “Yushui-chan~!”

Ryusui, his trademark grin unfaltering, strode toward the mentalist with bold, confident steps. After everything that had happened at the Treasure Island, nothing fazed him anymore. With a single swift motion, he grabbed Gen by the waist, pulling him close until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. Their faces hovered mere breaths apart.

Gen let out a giggle at the sudden intimacy. “Ohhh, Yushui-chan, what you doing?”

Ryusui lifted his free hand, fingers grazing Gen’s cheek in a slow, deliberate touch. The gesture made Gen lean into his warm palm, sighing contentedly.

“Look at yourself, Gen,” Ryusui murmured, his voice dipping into that honeyed tone he had used to charm men and women alike back in the modern day. “You’re so affectionate tonight. Truly endearing.”

“Ugh. I can’t deal with this.” Minami visibly cringed, feeling a shudder crawl up her spine. She decided to drag Tsukasa away, leaving those two idiots to their own world, for her own sanity.

“Yushui-chan, you such a charmer! Weally handsome!” Gen beamed, batting his eyelashes playfully.

Ryusui chuckled, never one to shy away from a compliment.

“That I am! You know me so well!” He brought his thumb to trace over Gen’s lips teasingly.

“You’ve been kissing people left and right tonight. Is that what your heart desires? Because if so, I desire it too!” His voice deeper, softer than usual. Golden-brown eyes locked onto Gen’s. “Won’t you grant me a kiss as well, my dear Gen?”

“Shure!” Gen answered without hesitation, happy to oblige.

Ryusui grinned, lowering his head just enough, making it easier for Gen to reach.

Gen leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss — much to the captain’s surprise — to the tip of his nose. Then he pulled back, looking pleased with himself.

Ryusui blinked. Gen’s choice of spot—That… wasn’t what he’d had in mind. But true to his nature, he recovered quickly, his smirk returning.

“Hmm? I was certain you’d be bolder than that,” he inquired, tapping a finger against his lips.

Gen puffed out his chest haughtily, huffing. “Gen’s kisses on lips ish expenshive, you know! Not even Yushui-chan has enuff Dragos to buy it!”

Ryusui threw his head back and laughed heartily. His rich, boisterous voice rang through the night. “Hahaaa! Is that so? I do love a challenge!”

As though changing into his gentleman persona in a split second, he took Gen’s smaller hand in his own, lifting it delicately to his lips. “If that’s the case, perhaps you’d let me pay in installments?”

Without breaking eye contact, Ryusui pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Gen’s hand before finally releasing his hold on the shorter man’s waist.

Gen took a slow step back, gasping and clutching his chest exaggeratedly. “Oh my! Yushui-chan, you made Gen’s heart go ba-dump! Gen’s gonna fall in wuv with you!”

Ryusui flashed his most dazzling grin, showing a bit of his canine tooth. “What are you saying, Gen?” He snapped his fingers, declaring proudly, “You’re already my lover! You and everyone in this world are my lovers! I’m the world’s greediest man, after all!”

Gen squealed even louder, raising his voice a pitch higher on purpose. “Kyaaa! Yushui-chan sho cooool!”

“Stop indulging him, dumbass.”

Gen knew that voice anywhere. Even in his drunken haze, he recognized it instantly. He would never mistake it for someone else.

“Shenku-chan~!” Gen’s entire face lit up, the brightest it had been all night, as he gracelessly made a beeline toward their leader.

Ryusui smirked knowingly, looking at the newcomer with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Senku didn’t like that smirk, and he was proved correct when Ryusui spoke, “Hahaaa! What’s wrong, Senku? Jealous that I’ve been keeping such a beauty all to myself?”

“What beauty?” Senku scoffed.

Gen, now draped over Senku like an affectionate kitten, nuzzled into his cheek, eyes wide with wonder. “Weally? Shenku-chan jealoush?”

“I’m not.” Senku scowled, his voice flat. “And get off me. It’s annoying,” he added, but made no actual effort to push Gen away.

Ryusui chuckled. “Well then, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. I wouldn’t want to intrude on a couple’s moment.”

“Shut up. Scram away.” Senku didn’t bother to spare Ryusui a glance, his expression as unimpressed as ever.

Once the captain was out of sight, Senku sighed and turned his attention back to the intoxicated mentalist still clinging to him. “Oi, Mentalist. Heard you got yourself wasted. I thought you didn’t drink?”

“Ginwo-chan gave some to me! Eheheh!” Gen chirped, swaying slightly but not letting go of Senku.

“Right. Of course it was Ginro.” Senku exhaled. He should’ve expected that. “And what the hell did you do to our crew? Most of them are completely useless now.”

He sounded irritated, but there was the faintest, nearly undetectable hint of amusement. Not that Gen, in his tipsy state, would be able to catch it.

“Gen gave everyone his wuv!” Gen answered happily. Well, he was just happy to be with the young scientist. “Shenku-chan too!”

“Your what?” Senku raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure if he’d misheard or if the alcohol was making Gen’s words even sillier than usual. “Don’t use that cutesy crap with me. I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying. Do you turn stupid when you’re drunk?”

“Gen’s not shupid! Shenku-chan meanie!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Senku waved a dismissive hand before picking at his ear. He was already accustomed to Gen’s antics. “Anyway, fix this mess you caused. I need these guys back to work tomorrow.” He turned to leave, only to feel a sudden tug on his wrist.

He glanced back, mildly surprised and a little annoyed. “What?”

“Gen said, Shenku-chan too!”

“… What?” Senku repeated, confused, until he saw Gen spreading his arms wide — and he knew that gesture. It was the same as what Taiju always did before pulling him into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

“Don’t you dare—” Senku could only shoot a warning glare before Gen pulled him into a tight embrace. His breath hitched and his body tensed at the contact. It was warm. And somehow, the feeling was… not unwanted.

“Shenku-chan,” Gen murmured, his voice suddenly quiet, almost sober, “thank you fo’ everything you did. Gen’s sho glad to have met you.”

Senku sighed, patting the slightly taller man’s back awkwardly. “I told you, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

His voice was gruff, but there was something softer underneath. Maybe he was just acting tough, masking his own embarrassment.

Just as suddenly, Gen pulled back, cupping Senku’s face in both hands with surprising gentleness. He smiled softly, his grayish-blue eyes locking onto Senku’s.

For a moment, it felt like the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Senku shifted uncomfortably. The way Gen was staring at him — so deep, so quiet — it was weird. It made his skin feel warm in a way he didn’t like.

“Oi—”

But before he could finish, Gen pinched his cheeks, stretching them out in an infuriatingly playful manner. Senku scowled, swatting at his hands, but Gen just laughed, teasing.

“Shenku-chan ish sho smart and awways working hard. Gen’s awways worry ‘bout you,” he sighed, his thumb brushing against Senku’s skin. “Ish not good, weally. Wish you a bit more honest. Shenku-chan’s such a shundere.”

“Shut up. You’re not my mom—” Senku deadpanned, but his eyes immediately widened in shock when he realized that Gen’s face was getting closer to his.

And before he could so much as think, he felt soft, warm lips on the corner of his own.

It was light. Brief. Too dangerously close. It was different from Kohaku’s ‘kiss’ back in the Treasure Island.

What was happening? What was Gen doing? Why was Gen doing this? How did this happen?

For the first time in his life, Senku’s brain completely short-circuited.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t process what had just happened. The data input was too much. His thoughts completely crashed.

To make matters worse, there was this small, insignificant fact that… he might have a small crush on Gen.

Not that the oblivious mentalist noticed, though — both Senku’s internal malfunction and the tiny infatuation the younger boy had on him.

“Heheheh~! Shenku-chan weally adorable~!”

Huh. That was… unexpected.

Not the kiss, but Senku’s reaction.

Hyoga never thought he’d live to see the day the scientist boy’s brain completely shut down.

“Well, that was bound to happen,” a familiar voice spoke beside him.

Hyoga turned, slightly surprised. “Moz-kun.”

As always, Moz had appeared out of nowhere, his presence undetectable until he chose to make it known.

“Where have you been? And what do you mean?”

Moz only gave a lazy smile, pointing up to the ship’s crow’s nest.

Ah. That explained it. No wonder Hyoga hadn’t seen him all evening; he had probably been napping up there, away from the crowd, in a place only someone as nimble as him could reach.

“Leader Boy has a crush on Flower Boy,” Moz said casually, as if stating a fact as obvious as the sky being blue. ‘Leader Boy’ was, of course, Senku, while ‘Flower Boy’ was Moz’s nickname for Gen, a nod to that one time he’d seen Gen magically produce a flower blizzard around them. “It’s obvious.” He shrugged, his tone light. “Though the only one who doesn’t seem to notice is Flower Boy himself. Poor thing.”

Hyoga’s brow arched. Really? Because if that were true, then he certainly hadn’t noticed as well. But then again, he wasn’t the type to pick up on those things in the first place, so he supposed that wasn’t too surprising. He chose to keep his mouth shut, deciding it wasn’t worth a comment.

Moz, unbothered by Hyoga’s lack of reaction, continued, “You know what’s even funnier?” He swung an arm over Hyoga’s shoulders, far too familiar for his liking. “Flower Boy’s got a crush on someone else. And that person doesn’t notice it either. Isn’t that ironic?”

Hyoga’s frown deepened. Gen… likes someone?

The thought sat oddly in his chest. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway. It shouldn’t concern him. It really shouldn’t.

So why did he suddenly not like the sound of it?

Wait, more importantly—

“How do you even know that?” Hyoga asked, tone laced with suspicion. “For all I know, you could be making things up.”

That kind of information was too personal, and he was certain Gen wouldn’t just tell someone how he felt, especially to Moz, of all people.

Moz chuckled, clearly amused by Hyoga’s reaction. “Why, you ask? I’m an expert in love. A genius, even.”

Hyoga scoffed. Yeah, right. If — based on stories Moz had told him and he had unwillingly listened to — sleeping with a different woman every night counted as ‘love’, then Moz was indeed a master.

Moz hummed thoughtfully, as if considering something. “Hmm… Maybe I was mistaken.” But his grin didn’t falter. Instead, it turned smug, almost mocking. “Flower Boy’s crush is definitely reciprocated.”

“What?”

Hyoga’s response was immediate, quicker and sharper than intended, which only made that damn smirk on Moz’s face grow, like he had just won something.

What the hell was his deal?

Before Hyoga could demand an answer, Moz suddenly stepped out from their hiding spot.

“Hey, Gen-chan,” he called out smoothly, his voice full of mischief that Hyoga didn’t like the sound of one bit.

Gen turned toward the voice calling him, but his vision was too blurry to pinpoint where it came from. He staggered forward, hoping he was going in the right direction, only to bump into something solid and unmoving.

“Whoops. Careful there.”

The deep voice was familiar. When he looked up, he found himself pressed against Moz’s chest, the taller man holding him steady with an arm wrapped securely around his waist.

“Moshu-chan!” he beamed, bright and tipsy. “Been looking fo’ you!”

“Hmm? Really?” Moz asked, his tone teasing. “That’s funny. You usually avoid me.”

“Yesh!” Gen giggled. “Gen means, yesh! Gen’s been looking fo’ you! But no! Gen’s not avoiding you! Ish becos you scawy, Moshu-chan!”

“Is that so?” Moz chuckled, clearly entertained, not offended in the slightest bit.

“Yesh!” Gen repeated, nodding enthusiastically.

Moz let out an amused hum. “Alright, then. Why were you looking for me?”

“Lesh play Titanic with me, Moshu-chan!”

Moz’s ears perked up at the unfamiliar word. “ ‘Titanic’? What’s that?”

“Ish a movie!”

That… didn’t explain much. What is a ‘movie’, anyway?

One look at Gen — eyes sparkling and unfocused, swaying on unsteady feet — and Moz figured there was no use asking. He would not get coherent answers, so he let it go, waiting for Gen to continue his unintelligible rambling.

“Ish a weally famoush movie! Very romantic too!” Gen sighed dreamily.

“Mm-hmm.” Moz was only half-following along, not really understanding what Gen was saying. Even so, a smirk lingered on his lips.

“Moshu-chan will be Jack, and Gen will be Roshe!”

“ ‘Rosh’?”

“Roshe!”

“ ‘Roshe’?”

“No! Roshe! Ash in the English word fo’ ‘bawa’!”

“ ‘Bawa’?” Moz’s confusion only grew.

“Like ‘Ibawa-chan’, but without the ‘i’!” Gen huffed, frustrated.

Moz finally caught on. “Aah. Bara. Rose. Got it. So we’re play-acting.”

“Yesh! Roshe!” Gen clapped his hands together, looking delighted that Moz understood at last.

“You can barely talk right now.” Moz chuckled, shaking his head. But he didn’t mind. When else would he get the chance to toy with the usually sharp-witted, guarded mentalist? This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He’d be a fool to pass it up.

“Alright, fine. Show me how it’s done, Rose.”

“ ‘Kay!” Gen grinned, tugging Moz’s arm and led him to the ship’s bow.

Once there, he eagerly assumed position, with Moz staying behind him. He grabbed Moz’s hands and pulled him closer. “Put your hands on Gen’s waist! Tightly! Sho Gen doesn’t fall!”

“Like this?” Moz complied, hands settling around the shorter man’s waist with ease. He noted how small it was for a man, his fingers nearly overlapping.

“Yesh! Then Gen will do dis!” Gen stretched his arms out in a grand gesture, then turned to glance at Moz for confirmation. “Dun let go of Gen, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Moz was surprisingly patient, but maybe he was just enjoying this too much.

Gen smiled in satisfaction. He turned back to face the ocean, arms stretched even wider, Moz’s hold firm around his waist.

As if on cue, the night breeze picked up, sweeping through the ship, tousling their hair and clothes. It was stronger than expected, and Gen had to squeeze his eyes shut as the wind stung them, but the silly grin never left his face.

“Hold my hands!” Gen half-shouted over the wind.

Moz leaned in, resting his chin on Gen’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. His lips were very close to Gen’s ear now, nearly brushing. He was tempted to lick or nibble it just to fluster him. Not that Gen, in his excitement, would even notice.

“Your hands? You sure?” he murmured, voice low.

“Yesh!”

Moz smirked. Slowly, carefully, without letting go of Gen’s waist, he slid his hands upward, trailing along Gen’s sides until they reached his hands. Instead of simply holding them, he laced their fingers together, securing the grip. Gen’s hands fit neatly in his.

Gen giggled, delighted. “Look, Jack! ‘m flying!”

“You sure are, Rose.”

“Heheheh~! ‘m the king of the wooooorld~!”

Moz chuckled under his breath. A drunk Gen was a fascinating sight. He wondered if the mentalist would remember any of this tomorrow. That would be hilarious.

They stayed like that for a while, letting the wind carry them, until it finally calmed down. Moz, still resting his chin on Gen’s shoulder, let his hands drift back to Gen’s waist. Gen leaned back into him, but lost his balance halfway.

Moz tightened his grip just in time, steadying them both as they stumbled back a step or two before regaining their footing.

Gen turned his head, looking up at Moz, blinking slowly.

Moz smirked. He leaned in slightly, intending to steal a kiss. After all, Gen had kissed practically every man on this ship. Why should he be an exception?

Before he could close the distance, Gen suddenly pulled back as if realizing something. Moz stopped in his tracks, instinctively alerted.

“Gen’s never realized it, but you weally handsome, Moshu-chan!”

Moz blinked, dumbfounded. Well, he knew he was handsome, but the praise was too sudden that even he wasn’t prepared for it.

“Hmm? We’re done being Jack and Rose now?” he asked, amused.

“You also weally strong and cool, you know?” Gen continued, apparently on a roll. “Like dat time you helped us back in Tweashure Island! Oh! And dat time you quickly rushed to save Homuwa-chan when she fell from the ladder! Like a knight in shining armor!”

“Yeah, she didn’t exactly appreciate me touching her, though.” Moz huffed a laugh, remembering the incident all too well. The petite girl had never liked him, for reasons unknown, even before then. And when he had saved her, rather than gratitude, all he got was a scowl as she dusted herself off like he’d somehow tainted her. After that, she clung to Hyoga even more, shooting Moz menacing glares from afar, like he was some kind of threat.

“And, and! You shurprisingly clever! Even though you dun look—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Moz clamped a hand over Gen’s mouth.

Gen blinked, muffled sounds of protest coming from behind Moz’s palm.

Moz leaned in closer, smirking. “Now, when do I get my kiss?”

Gen’s eyes widened. “Wha—”

Hyoga stood in the shadows, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene playing out before him. The cool night breeze tugged at his coat, but he barely noticed, too preoccupied with the ridiculous display happening at the ship’s bow.

He had seen it all — every single one of Gen’s drunken antics. And right now, his focus was on Gen and Moz.

For lack of a better word, he didn’t like it.

He didn’t like how close they were. How easily they touched each other, as if separation would kill them. It was absurd.

Hyoga understood Gen’s tendency to be clingy with Senku, Chrome, Ukyo, Ryusui, and perhaps even Tsukasa. But with Moz? What the hell was that? Wasn’t Gen supposed to be wary of him? Actively avoided him, even?

An intoxicated Gen was clearly not in his right mind.

And Moz — that damn womanizer — wasn’t he into women only? Why was he playing along with Gen’s foolery, knowing full well he could end up being kissed?

Hyoga exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay put. He had no intention of becoming Gen’s next victim or getting dragged into this foolish spectacle. He remained hidden, keeping his thoughts to himself, though he was sure his brows couldn’t furrow any deeper.

Then Gen and Moz leaned in—

Hyoga flinched.

—only for Gen to pull back abruptly and start rambling about how handsome and strong Moz was.

That was close.

He wasn’t sure if his reaction was directed at himself for nearly giving away his presence, or at the fact that Gen and Moz had almost kissed — but they didn’t, fortunately.

Wait. Fortunately?

Why did he feel relieved? Why did it even matter? Why should he care? Gen could kiss whoever he wanted. It was none of his concern.

And yet, something in him snapped when he saw Gen looking confused, almost vulnerable, staring up at Moz as the taller man smirked and murmured, “Now, when do I get my kiss?”

Hyoga didn’t know what came over him. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“Enough of this nonsense, Gen-kun, Moz-kun. Behave properly.”

Moz turned his head to see Hyoga standing a few steps away. The white-haired man’s expression was unreadable as always, but the deeper-than-usual frown on his forehead spoke volumes. Moz smirked, as if taunting. And when he deliberately slid his hand onto Gen’s waist like he owned him, Hyoga had to suppress the urge to throw him off the ship.

Gen, however, reacted a second later, whipping his head around in an exaggerated motion. His expression shifted instantly to one of deep, theatrical offense.

“Hyoga-chan! Why you here!?”

“Why would I not be here?” Hyoga countered, irritated.

“You—You…!” Gen pointed an accusing finger at him, eyes burning with drunken indignation.

Moz stifled a laugh, already sensing this was going to be good. Hyoga, on the other hand, just stared, unimpressed, feeling a headache coming on.

“Hyoga-chan, you—You big meanieeeee!” Gen wailed.

… What?

Gen kept going, oblivious to Moz trembling with silent laughter or Hyoga’s expression darkening by the second.

“Dummy! Scawy! Bad, bad bully! Awways teasing Gen! Awways sho s’rioush! Party pooper!”

… Why was he the only one getting bad-mouthed?

Moz actually snickered. Hyoga shot him a glare.

“Narrow eyes! Creepy laugh! Awways wearing a mask like some kinda pevvert! Why you have a shettai yoiki anyway!?”

Why had this suddenly turned into an attack on his appearance? Also, shettai yoiki? Did he mean ‘zettai ryōiki’? Absolute territory?(1) What was that supposed to mean?

“And! And!” Gen wasn’t done, apparently. He sucked in a dramatic breath, his voice turning even more displeased. “And you sho… sho s’rioushly handsome ish annoying! You and your glorioush muscles! You even smell very nice even tho you sweating! Ish weally, weally annoying! Hate youuuuu!”

… What on earth was he talking about now?

Moz finally lost it, throwing his head back in laughter. This was far better than he expected. “Damn, Hyoga, he really hates you.”

“Shut your filthy mouth, Moz-kun,” Hyoga snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“Dassit! Hyoga-chan ish Cal!”

What now? What nonsense was this fool spouting now? Who is Cal?

Moz, immediately catching on, tightened his grip around Gen’s waist, pulling him closer. Lips brushing against Gen’s ear, he murmured smoothly, “Do tell me, Rose, who is this Cal?”

The way Moz’s fingers lingered on Gen’s waist — far longer than necessary — irked Hyoga more than it should.

Moz noticed. His smirk widened.

“Oooh! Jack!” Gen, slipping right back into his ‘Rose’ persona, clung to Moz. “Cal ish Roshe’s fiancé! A rich, evil, shelfish man who wanna separate her from Jack! Roshe wuvs Jack, and Jack wuvs Roshe!”

“That’s right. She’s mine.” Moz played along effortlessly, turning his gaze toward Hyoga with unmistakable amusement. “Go away, Cal.”

Hyoga exhaled slowly, willing himself to stay calm. “Moz-kun, I told you to shut your mouth.” Then, he shifted his focus to Gen and took a step closer. “Gen-kun, you’re drunk. Let’s get you back to your room.”

“No! Dun come near Roshe!” Gen shrieked, hiding behind Moz. “Firsh, you trapped Roshe in a wuvwess engagement! Then you wanna separate Roshe and Jack’s true wuv! And now you gonna bring Roshe to a room? Why!? Sho you can lock her in der while the ship ish shinking!?”

Moz whistled. “Wow, Cal, that’s pretty low of you.”

Hyoga shot him another glare. He refused to waste his energy arguing with either of them.

Ignoring another wave of Gen’s rambling, he stepped forward, grabbed the smaller man by the waist, and hoisted him up over his shoulder like a sack of rice — all in one swift, smooth motion.

Gen was lighter than he expected. A little too light.

Hyoga frowned. Was he even eating properly? Looking back, even in the Tsukasa Empire, Hyoga had never seen Gen eating much.

“Let go! You—You tyrant!” Gen flailed, arms and legs swinging uselessly in the air.

“No.” Hyoga’s voice was flat, unamused, leaving no room for argument.

But it wasn’t Gen if he didn’t argue further. “How dare you! You brute! Where you bringing Gen!?”

“To your room. I told you, you’re drunk. Listen to me properly, Gen-kun.” Hyoga huffed, adjusting his hold. “Does being drunk melt your brain too?”

“Nooo! Dis ish kidnapping! Gen cried. He squirmed harder, smacking at Hyoga’s back with both hands in a desperate attempt to free himself. His punches were probably only as effective as an angry kitten’s, especially with alcohol making him even weaker than usual.

Moz, who had been standing nearby with arms crossed and a lazy smirk, thoroughly enjoying the show, suddenly straightened up. “One second, Hyoga.” His tone turned serious, catching both of their attention.

Gen, still dangling upside down, twisted — or at least, tried to — to look at the dark-haired man, eyes sparkling with hope. “Moshu-chan! Gen’s shavior!”

Hyoga eyed Moz warily. “What do you want now?”

“Hmm, I still haven’t gotten my kiss, you know,” Moz mused, pretending to sigh in disappointment. “Gen’s been kissing everyone but me. That hardly seems fair, don’t you think? I was even his Rose’s Jack.”

Gen gasped, astounded, as if Moz had just pointed out the gravest of sins. “Moshu-chan’s right! Gen forgot—”

“Moz-kun, stop it.”

“—becos Hyoga-chan intewwupted!”

“I’m saving you from embarrassing yourself later.”

“Hyoga-chan ish dummy!”

“Stop shouting near my ear.”

Ignoring the bickering, Moz casually sauntered behind Hyoga, right where Gen’s upper body was draped over his shoulder. He observed the smaller man for a moment before reaching out, yanking down his high collar with no warning, exposing the pale curve of his neck.

“Moz-kun, what are you—”

Moz dipped down and pressed his lips against Gen’s neck in a slow, deliberate kiss, lips grazing over pale skin before sucking and biting in a teasing motion.

Gen let out a squeak.

A very high-pitched, startled squeak. Like a frightened hamster.

The sound of lips on skin, coupled with that noise from Gen, caught Hyoga so off guard that his body locked up for a second.

Moz pulled back, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk. “There. Now I got my kiss.”

Gen, still slung over Hyoga’s shoulder, had gone completely rigid. His face, already flushed from alcohol, was now burning red for an entirely different reason.

Registering what had just happened, Hyoga reacted immediately. He turned sharply, effectively moving Gen out of Moz’s reach. His grip tightening ever so slightly on the smaller man’s waist.

“You’ve had your fun. That’s enough.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. But the purplish-blue of his eyes darkened, a cold edge creeping into his tone. There was something dangerous — something possessive — beneath his usual composure. Not a suggestion; a warning.

Moz simply chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. He watched them disappear into the night. Hyoga’s strides noticeably faster, clearly eager to get away from him as soon as possible. Gen, still draped over his shoulder, no longer struggled, his earlier protests replaced by quiet, flustered defeat.

Moz smirked to himself, humming in amusement. “Yeah, definitely reciprocated.”

And with that, peace finally returned to Perseus.

Hyoga threw Gen down onto his bed, and the smaller man landed unceremoniously with a soft thud against the mattress.

After some consideration, Hyoga had decided it would be better to keep Gen in his room rather than returning him to his own. That way, he could keep an eye on him properly and prevent him from going on another drunken misadventure.

Gen, who had been silent since Moz’s ‘kiss’, finally made another sound.

“Sho rude! Das very ungentlemanly, you know!”

Hyoga sighed, rubbing his temples. He wasn’t sure if Gen being noisy again was a relief or another trouble. “You’re the rude one. Here I am, taking care of you, yet you don’t even have the decency to be grateful.”

“Meanie! Hyoga-chan meanie! Gen wuvs Moshu-chan more!” Gen puffed his cheeks in defiance.

“I never agreed to be a babysitter,” Hyoga muttered, feeling a fresh headache forming. Still, he had a task to complete. He just wanted it done.

“Gen-kun, raise your hands, like ‘banzai’.”

“Banshaaai?”

Gen followed the instruction without question, though his brows furrowed in confusion.

The moment his arms were up, Hyoga acted swiftly, stripping Gen of his outer robe, untying his obi-like sash, and undoing his tunic with practiced efficiency.

“Eeep! What you doing!? Hyoga-chan, you pevvet!”

Gen was left only in his high-collared, sleeveless inner and pants. That should be more comfortable.

“Noooo! Gen can’t marry anyone anymoooore!” he cried dramatically, now covering his body with his arms as if he’d been defiled.

Hyoga paid no mind to the protests. He folded Gen’s discarded clothes neatly, noting the surprising weight of the robe — it was heavier than expected, filled with all sorts of silly ‘magic tricks’. After setting them on a small table, he turned back to Gen.

“Sleep,” he ordered, flicking the younger man’s forehead lightly.

“Ouch!” Gen whined, rubbing the spot. It didn’t even hurt, actually. Hyoga barely put any strength into it, but of course, Gen was always exaggerating. “Dat hurts!”

Hyoga placed a firm hand on Gen’s shoulder and pushed him down, forcing him to lie properly. “I said, sleep.”

“But Gen’s not sleepy!”

“Sleep.”

Gen pouted, glaring at Hyoga’s unwavering expression. But then, an idea flashed in his mind, and a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes.

“Hyoga-chan~” he called, voice suddenly softer, sweeter. He grabbed a handful of Hyoga’s fur-lined cloak and pulled him down. Lifting his head slightly, he pressed a kiss against his mask — right where his lips would be.

Hyoga had watched Gen kiss nearly everyone in his intoxicated state. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. He should have expected it to happen to him sooner or later. However, when it finally happened, it was as if his heart had forgotten how to beat. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes widened, his entire body locked up. His mind went completely blank.

Gen pulled away with a cheeky giggle, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “G’night kiss~! Heheheh~!”

And just as suddenly as the kiss, he flopped onto his side and passed out, his breathing evening into soft, steady rhythms. Peaceful, as if he hadn’t just thrown Hyoga’s entire mind into disarray.

Hyoga remained still, his hand slowly touching his mask, to the exact spot where Gen’s lips had landed moments ago. The mask was thick, made of whatever material was available back in the Tsukasa Empire. There was no way he could have felt anything through it.

And yet, his own lips tingled with warmth, the heat spreading across his face. His heart pounded violently, as if trying to break free from his ribcage.

He was going to sleep after this. He always removed his mask before sleeping. Somehow, he found himself condemning the fact that he hadn’t taken it off earlier.

—Wait. No.

What was he thinking? Why was he thinking that?

Preposterous.

Trying to shake the thought away, Hyoga shifted his gaze away from Gen’s sleeping face, landing on his exposed neck — on the red mark standing out starkly against his pale skin.

Moz, that degenerate… He really had the audacity to leave a mark on Gen.

Hyoga’s stomach twisted, something ugly curling in his chest.

Anger. Resentment. Possessiveness. As if someone had touched what belonged to him without permission.

His fingers reached for his mask, pulling it down. His mouth parted slightly.

Before he realized it, he was already leaning down, lips hovering just above Gen’s throat. His teeth itching with the need to erase that bastard’s mark. To replace it with his own, deeper and redder. To claim—

He stopped.

His senses returned in a cold wave of reality.

What the hell was he doing?

Hyoga yanked himself back.

He was not the despicable Moz. He was not someone who took advantage of another person without their consent. He was a proud, proper Japanese man. He had self-control. He would never stoop that low.

Perhaps it was exhaustion. Dealing with Moz was already a pain in the neck. Add a drunken Gen, and it became a nightmare. The two of them together were a menace, testing the very limits of Hyoga’s already thin patience.

(Or maybe, it was just Gen. Drunk or sober, the mentalist had always found a way to get under his skin, peeling away the self-restraint he had carefully built. Reading him like an open book, exposing things even Hyoga himself refused to acknowledge. It was truly terrifying — what he was capable of.)

Hopefully, after some much-needed sleep, his mind would be clearer.

“Ugh, my head’s killing me…”

Gen woke up to the feeling of his skull splitting in two. This was, by far, the worst headache he’d had in a long time. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He faintly remembered he had felt this exact pain before, back when he was still in high school.

What had he been doing back then, again? He couldn’t quite—

“That’s what you get for acting foolish last night. Here, water.”

“Oh my, thank you~!” Gen accepted the glass gratefully, gulping it down in one go. The cool liquid soothed his throat. Only after draining the last drop did he finally process the voice and whip his head around.

There stood Hyoga, without his mask and cloak, seemingly having just gotten up not too long ago.

“Hyoga-chan!? Why are you here!?”

Hyoga raised an unimpressed brow. “Why would I not be here?”

Wait, hadn’t they had this conversation before?

“This is my room,” he continued. “You were drunk and…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “… made a mess. Do you remember anything?”

“I got drunk? But I don’t—”

Gen stopped mid-sentence as a distant, horrifying memory resurfaced.

Back in high school, he’d gone partying with his friends. Being the rebellious, naughty teenagers they were, they’d sneaked alcohol despite being underage.

The next morning, he’d woken up with a terrible headache, much like this one. His friends had gleefully recounted how he’d gotten tipsy after a single sip and then — to his utter horror — had gone around kissing all the boys. They even had photos, which he had somehow managed to convince them to delete later. Fortunately, his mentalist career had been saved from rumors caused by his own idiocy.

Although there had been no kisses on the lips, Gen had been mortified. Since that day, he’d sworn off alcohol for the rest of his life.

No wonder this headache felt so terrifyingly familiar.

“Oh, right…” His voice came out small. He covered his face, his skin paling as realization sank in. “I think someone shoved some down my throat.”

Ginro. He remembered the culprit, but he supposed it was better to leave that part out. He didn’t want to blame him. He also didn’t think he’d have enough energy to console the bawling boy later.

He looked back at Hyoga, half-hopeful, half-dreading. “I… I didn’t do anything funny… did I…?”

Hyoga simply stared.

The silence was confirmation enough.

Gen groaned, burying his face deeper in his hands. Just like back then, he must’ve kissed every male crew member on the ship.

This is bad—No, scratch that. This is the worst! The absolute worst! This can’t get any worse!

He was supposed to be the friendly, reliable, yet cunning mentalist, not some happy, drunken kiss monster!

His mind spiraled.

What was he supposed to do now? How could he save his dignity? He guessed he’d leave it to his future self to deal with. Sorry, future Gen. Why was he even in Hyoga’s room, anyway? Shouldn’t Hyoga be avoiding him after last night? Had Hyoga actually taken care of him?

But why?

And then, another thought hit him.

“I guess you were safe? From me?” Gen asked hesitantly, peeking through his fingers.

Hyoga nodded.

Huh.

So he hadn’t kissed everyone.

That was… oddly disappointing. Why had his past drunk self not kissed Hyoga? He’d be more than happy to do it sober! But, hey, he’d better keep it to himself.

Gen sighed, piecing everything together. Ginro had tricked him. He had gotten drunk. He had kissed everyone. Except Hyoga, somehow. Hyoga had dragged him away to prevent further stupid behavior. That explained why he was in Hyoga’s room, and why Hyoga seemed… well, normal. Not unusual. He wasn’t avoiding him or acting strange.

Yeah. That made sense. That must be it.

“Uhh, thanks, I guess,” Gen mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “For… this.”

“I can’t hear you,” Hyoga said flatly. “Speak properly, Gen-kun.”

Gen gawked. “Seriously!? You—”

The sudden spike in volume reignited his headache. He whimpered, clutching his temple. Ugh.

How could Hyoga not hear him? Saying a sincere thanks — and to Hyoga, of all people — was already embarrassing enough! There was no way he’d repeat it!

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hyoga chuckling, his shoulders shaking slightly, his lips curled upward slightly.

Oh.

Oh.

Hyoga was teasing him.

Yup. It was definitely the usual Hyoga. The same big bad bully Hyoga.

“You’re so mean, Hyoga-chan,” Gen whined. “It was embarrassing, you know.”

“Not as embarrassing as what you did last night, though.”

“Stop that!” Gen shrieked, his face heating up. He might not remember the exact details of what he’d done, but he could guess well enough based on past experience.

Trying to distract himself, he absent-mindedly rubbed the side of his neck, wincing at the dull soreness. “Why does my neck hurt, too? Did I hit something?”

Hyoga’s expression darkened. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Gen blinked, then smiled wryly. “Do I want to remember?”

Hyoga seemed to be pondering something before he finally answered, his voice deadly serious, “That’s a hickey. From Moz-kun.”

A… what?

Apparently, he’d said it out loud because Hyoga repeated, “A hickey. Moz-kun gave it to you.”

Gen let out a forced laugh. Nervous. Panicked. He attempted keeping his tone light. “Oh, come on, Hyoga-chan, that’s not funny, really~”

Hyoga stared at him. Unamused. “Why would I be lying about that?”

Gen stopped laughing. He tried to read Hyoga’s expression to search for any sign of lies — it was his forte as a mentalist, after all. Good thing a bare-faced Hyoga was easier to read than a masked one.

But there was nothing.

Hyoga was really telling the truth.

“… Seriously?” he asked again, praying — really praying — that Hyoga was just messing with him, playing some elaborate joke with that ever-stoic face of his.

When Hyoga only nodded again, Gen could only chuckled dryly, more resigned than anything. He was too exhausted to react dramatically, too drained to throw a fit like he normally would.

“I was wrong. It could get worse.” He let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a fake sob. “Now this is really the worst.”

“Indeed it is,” Hyoga agreed, voice as neutral as ever.

“You don’t have to agree so fast!” Gen snapped. “You’re really mean, Hyoga-chan! Always bullying me!”

The outburst sent another sharp pang through his skull and he clutched his temples again. Riiiight. He’d forgotten about the headache.

He slumped against the bed, sniffling as he mumbled a string of complaints. “I hate this. I wanna disappear. I wish I could turn back time. Hyoga-chan is a meanie. Why are you always bullying me…”

With all his yammering, he expected Hyoga to kick him out because “he looked energetic enough now”. Or at least say something like, “You’re so noisy, Gen-kun,” in an exasperated tone. But Hyoga said nothing. Not even a sigh.

Hyoga just stood there, watching him. Quiet. Too quiet.

Now that Gen thought about it, Hyoga had been treating him unusually gently, hadn’t he? Well, aside from the teasing. But still. Hyoga was acting different.

A spark of hope flickered in Gen’s chest.

Could Hyoga actually be… jealous?

There was only one way to find out.

Gen took a breath, steeled himself, then looked up at Hyoga again. “Say, Hyoga-chan,” he purred, voice softer, laced with something dangerously sweet, “won’t you help me… make this disappear?”

“What?”

Hyoga’s entire demeanor shifted. He looked completely caught off guard. Stunned, even.

Gen had to stifle a laugh.

“This,” he repeated, tilting his head to expose his neck, the reddish mark standing out against his pale skin. He met Hyoga’s gaze, his own grayish-blue orbs glimmered with plea, teasing, daring.

The other man remained silent, but Gen, the observant mentalist he was, didn’t miss the slightest crack in his composure. The tension in his shoulders, the sharp inhale he barely allowed himself, the way his fingers twitched at his side. Gen watched — with amusement, with delight — as he was fighting whatever thoughts were warring in his mind, the battle between reason and impulse.

Hyoga struggling was truly a rare, beautiful sight.

Gen just had to push a little more.

With slow, deliberate movements, Gen reached up, his fingers ghosting over the mark on his neck. His brows knitted together, lips parting with a soft, troubled sigh.

“It doesn’t look good on me, don’t you think?” His voice carried just the right mix of complaint and coyness. “Do you really want me walking around like this?”

A silence stretched between them before Hyoga finally spoke, “Why should I? Your collar covers it. No one cares.”

His tone was firm, almost indifferent, but Gen wasn’t fooled. There was a strain beneath it, like he was holding something back.

Tch. Smart.

Gen clicked his tongue internally. Hyoga wasn’t taking the bait so easily, but he wouldn’t give up. Not when he was this close to getting what he wanted.

“Fine, then.” He huffed, pouting. “I’ll just walk around with my collar like this. No one cares, right?” He pushed himself up from the bed, reaching lazily for the rest of his clothes on the table—

—when a sudden force shoved him back down onto the mattress.

Gen barely had time to register Hyoga above him, caging him in, his weight pressing down.

Hyoga’s voice was low, almost a growl. “Stop acting like a fucking brat, you insufferable little shit.”

Ooh?

This was new. Hyoga and his harsh language.

Hyoga had always been refined in both his words and mannerisms, maybe a bit easygoing, even when insulting someone. Never once had he spoken like this.

Excitement curled in Gen’s stomach, and he couldn’t hold back a triumphant smirk.

“What’s wrong, Hyoga-chan?” he asked, feigning innocence, his tone deliberately provoking. “I thought you didn’t—Aah!”

His words broke into a sharp gasp as a pain shot through his neck. Hot, stinging, deep.

Hyoga had bitten him. Hard. Right over the reddish blotch. His lips pressed against the bruised flesh, kissing it first — softly — before his teeth sank in again, rougher this time. His tongue followed, lapping over the fresh wound as if erasing every last trace of Moz’s mark.

He was rough. Hungry. His breath warm against Gen’s flushed skin. His touch both scorching and possessive — claiming Gen as his.

A thin trail of saliva glistened as Hyoga pulled back, his lips parted, his breath unsteady, like he’d forgotten to breathe in the heat of the moment.

Gen hadn’t expected Hyoga to be this… fierce. But he didn’t hate it. In fact, he loved it. Especially the way Hyoga’s handsome bare face hovered so close, his darkened eyes nearly glowing with something raw, untamed.

“Hyoga-chan,” Gen whispered, breathless. A slow, teasing smile curled his lips as his arms lifted, circling Hyoga’s neck. His fingers brushed over the nape, stroking lightly before gripping tighter, pulling him down. “Do it properly, will you?”

Hyoga didn’t need to be told twice.

He was already leaning in, gaze locked on Gen’s lips, ready to take what was his—

A whistle.

Both of them froze.

A lazy voice came from above. “Hmm, so eager in the morning, huh? Didn’t know you moan like a girl, Gen-chan~”

Gen and Hyoga snapped their heads up in record time. There, peering down at them from the top bunk, was Moz, wearing a shit-eating grin.

For a long, terrible second, neither of them moved.

And then, it hit them. They had totally, stupidly, forgotten that Hyoga shared a room with Moz.

Wow. Fantastic.

“M-M-M-Moz-chaaan!?” Gen shrieked, yanking the blanket over himself like a scandalized maiden. “Y-Y-Y-You—S-Since whe—Uuugh…”

Damn headache. He should ask Senku to whip up a hangover cure or something later. He hoped that the younger boy wouldn’t avoid him.

“Hmm, since Hyoga gave you water?” Moz smirked, not looking the least bit sorry. “Oh, don’t mind me. You can keep going. I was enjoying the show, you know.”

“That’s… Since the beginning… isn’t it…” Gen muttered, his voice getting smaller with every word. His head throbbed so bad and the color drained from his face. How many times did he have to be humiliated right after waking up?

“Moz-kun.” Hyoga’s voice was a warning, low and dangerous. If only looks could kill…

Moz chuckled, completely unfazed. He stretched before hopping down from the bunk. “Relax, I’m leaving. Just don’t get too carried away. Kohaku-chan’s making her rounds to wake everyone up soon.”

Just as suddenly as he had shown up, he was gone.

A heavy silence followed.

… Well. That was it. The moment was thoroughly ruined.

Avoiding eye contact, Gen busied himself fixing his high collar. His skin still burned from Hyoga’s mark, a stark contrast to the chill settling in the room. He gathered the rest of his clothes, putting them back on.

“I’ll leave first.”

Gen, still tying his sash, blinked and turned to Hyoga — already dressed, his mask and cloak in place, his spear secured on his back — as he walked toward the door without a second glance.

“Wait, Hyoga-chan—!”

Gen rushed after him, fumbling with his robe. In his hurry, he tripped over his own foot.

He tried to not fall; face-slamming the floor would only humiliate him further, thank you very much. Desperately, he moved his feet fast, thinking and searching for something to catch himself on.

As he was about to crash into the wall, he ended up slamming his hands against the surface, unintentionally trapping Hyoga between his arms.

Gen winced. That was a loud impact. His palms hurt.

“… Are you alright?” Hyoga asked, slightly concerned, slightly amused.

Gen looked up at him, his unexpected smile catching Hyoga off guard. He moved as quick as a fox, giving the white-haired man no time to react. Standing on his tiptoes, he pulled down Hyoga’s mask, and—

—closed the distance between their lips.

It was bold. Mischievous. It lingered just long enough for Hyoga to realize what was going on.

A real, intentional, proper kiss.

Gen pulled back just as fast, grinning cheekily. “Good morning kiss~! Hehehe~!”

With that, he spun on his heel and waltzed away, humming a random tune cheerfully as if nothing had happened, arms tucked into his sleeves, light on his feet.

Hyoga was left standing there, stunned. His mask askew, his heart pounding wildly. His fingers reached up, brushing absently over his lips.

He had always assumed Gen’s body temperature was lower than most, much like his own. And yet, Gen’s lips—They had been warm. Thin but soft. Sweet like honey. Addicting.

Also, Gen smelled so damn nice, like flowers with a hint of citrus.

A quiet laugh escaped Hyoga. Low, disbelieving, defeated, yet enraptured all the same.

“You really did it properly,” he mused to himself, his lips curling into a small smirk.

“I like you, Gen-kun. You and your filthy tricks.”