Work Text:
Senku hated the smell of hot glue guns and fresh paint.
His nose wrinkled in disgust as Gen led him into the school auditorium, where at least two dozen students were frantically constructing theater sets. Sawdust floated through the air, the screech of handsaws pierced his ears, and a lingering haze of paint thinner hovered like the Grim Reaper, ready to knock out anyone who dared breathe too deep.
“For the big school festival,” Gen announced, sweeping his arm dramatically, “I’ve decided to adapt The Odyssey for the stage.”
Senku blinked. “You mean, like... Homer?”
“Not that Homer,” Gen scoffed, tossing his hair. “I’m talking about EPIC: The Musical, by Jay Herrans! It’s a modern retelling of Odyssey! It’s everywhere online right now!”
Senku’s mouth twitched.
“Who?”
Gen stared at him in mocking horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Have you been buried in Fundamentals of Engineering your whole life?”
Senku rolled his eyes. “You literally dragged me here because I’ve spent my whole life buried in Fundamentals of Engineering!”
“Touché!” Gen sang. “That’s exactly why I need you! I want this stage to blow people’s minds. And thanks to a generous donation, by which I mean, my dad’s credit card, I can afford some high-grade drama. So, I need your big brain to make me something magical. Like, ultra-engineered, mechanically glorious, stage-defying wow props!”
Senku slapped a hand over his face. “What the hell does ‘ultra-engineered’ even mean?”
“Oh, please. You know better than me, Mr. Brainy!” Gen waggled his eyebrows, then leaned in with a mischievous grin.
He dangled a tiny silver key in front of Senku’s face “…you can have your science club key back after I see something sufficiently ultra-engineered in my stage.”
Senku twitched violently.
It’s tyranny.
Absolute tyranny!
He held back the urge to strangle Gen on the spot. But of course, Gen, being the principal’s only child, could get away with anything. Including hijacking the school’s science club genius for his high-concept amateur theater production.
“You’ve got glue guns, and paint, and a bunch of kids who can cut cardboard! Why don’t you make fake trees and just shove them around like they do in kindergarten plays?”
“Because, darling,” Gen grinned, waving the key like a wand, “I have you.”
“Shit!” Senku groaned, glaring at the hostage key. “Mark my words, Asagiri, you’re dead for this!”
.
.
.
Senku slammed his tablet down into Gen’s lap, right as the flamboyant director was in the middle of applying a facial mask in the makeup room. Gen’s signature black-and-white hair was tied up messily, and half his face was smeared with thick mineral-mud paste.
Unbothered, Gen glanced at the tablet with a hum of amusement.
“The rain of arrows for Saga One, harmless but convincing. The blood-splatter effect made with easy-clean gel. An ocean backdrop that moves in sync with the soundtrack, all controlled by microcontrollers,” Senku rattled off. His brow furrowed so hard.
Gen grinned through his half-masked face.
“Well, well! This is exactly the ultra-engineered magic I was hoping for!” He tapped the screen approvingly. “Oh! Don’t forget about the Cyclops battle scene! Our villain cyclop’s supposed to be a massive, terrifying brute, but unfortunately, our entire cast is genetically cursed with super slim body. Any chance you can engineer around that, darling?”
Senku twitched.
He was this close to grabbing the face mask brush and shoving it right up Gen’s nostrils.
“Do I look like Hephaestus, the magical god of engineering, to you?!” Senku snapped.
Gen gave a wink. “Wrong deity, my dear! Hephaestus is the god of blacksmiths. Read my script, darling!” He struck a dramatic pose. “Oh! Speaking of Hephaestus! I’ve decided to add the God Game scene. So, you’ll probably need to design a whole divine battleground set too!”
That was it!
Senku yanked his tablet back and stormed out, his voice echoing down the hallway. “I’m done, Asagiri!! I QUIT! Burn the clubroom, melt the key, do whatever the hell you want!!”
He stormed off in a huff, striding through dizzying haze of paint thinner. Senku shoving the curtain aside, but he did it too hard. He immediately slammed into something solid.
Something very solid.
“Ugh!” Senku groaned, stumbling backward as his tablet slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. His forehead throbbed from colliding with something undeniably hard.
“Oh crap! Sorry! I’m so sorry!” a voice rushed out.
The tall figure bent down, helping Senku to his feet and retrieving the fallen tablet. His long hair fell gracefully. “I didn’t see you behind the curtain,” the guy added, offering the device with an apologetic look.
Senku blinked.
There was a broad chest wrapped tightly in a black compression shirt, inches from his face. His gaze traveled upward, past a neck like a tree trunk, and landed on a face.
The guy was tall. Easily over 190 centimeters.
“Here. Sorry again,” the tall stranger said, still sounding awkward.
Senku took the tablet. “Thanks,” he muttered, eyes lingering a second longer than they should’ve.
“I, uh… got a little lost,” the guy continued, scratching the back of his head. “I followed the sign here, but the hallway's like a labyrinth. So I ended up using that door.” He pointed to the emergency exit behind the stage. “I’m here to meet Asagiri Gen.”
Senku’s brain stalled again.
Partly from the guy’s words, mostly from how his shirt stretched across his chest.
Pretty face. Big chest.
Maybe he’s a demigod, the result of Aphrodite’s adultery with a bodybuilder mortal.
“Right!” Senku said, blinking himself back to reality. “Yeah... Gen... Okay. He’s, uh, currently engaged in a very serious skincare routine. Mineral mud mask. Half his face’s gone rogue.” He waved vaguely.
“Oh…”
“So... are you part of the play?” Senku asked.
“Kind of? I’m filling in for a friend. He was supposed to play the Cyclops. But he’s kind of skinny, and figured the role needed someone... bigger. So here I am.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’m actually not a student here. I’m in college.”
Senku’s brain offered nothing clever in response.
Senku cleared his throat then.
“Well, I can take you to the dictator. I mean, director, Asagiri Gen.” He turned and gestured. “Come on, Cyclops boy.”
The guy laughed softly, and followed.
.
.
.
His name was Tsukasa.
Even Gen, still mid face-mask, half his face coated in drying black mineral past, stared with his jaw practically unhinged!
Tsukasa gave an awkward smile. “I’m a friend of Uei Yoo. I’m here to replace him for the Cyclops role. He mentioned it, right?”
Gen blinked back into awareness like someone just slapped sense into him.
“Oh, yeah! Yoo did say something,” he said, waving a hand. “But he never said his replacement was a literal Greek god! Look at those pecs! I can’t risk the audience falling for the villain more than my main cast!”
Tsukasa rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… a lot of Epic the Musical fans do love the villains. Like Antinous and Melanthius…”
Gen gasped so hard his mask cracked. “You’re a fan of Epic the Musical, too??”
Tsukasa gave a modest shrug, still looking a little uneasy, but smiled. “Yeah, I like the reinterpretation.”
Gen clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “Oh my god. You’re so cultured! Unlike someone I know!” he added loudly, turning with an exaggerated flip of his hair.
In the corner, Senku twitched like a vein just popped in his forehead.
“So,” Senku suddenly cut in, eyes sharp behind his goggles, “send me the script for the Cyclops battle, Asagiri. You know my email.”
Gen frowned. “I thought you quit...?”
“Hey! Hey!” Senku cut in, “You’re the one who begged me to engineer a Cyclops body, remember? I need the full script to match the vibe! Now get to it!” Senku barked, then turned to Tsukasa. “Come on, Tsukasa. I need your measurements. I’m making you a lower-body mech suit to dial up the creep factor.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down!” Gen wiped the drying cracks of his mineral mask from his face. “Tsukasa’s already huge! We don’t need a fancy mech suit anymore. I said that kind of engineering was only for the skinny guy! Save the budget for the God Game scene, it’s a full pantheon brawl!”
“Shut up, Asagiri! I’m the engineer here!” Senku snapped, jabbing a finger at him before striding off.
.
.
.
Tsukasa trailed after Senku into a side room, half makeup storage, half stage crew station. It was usually packed with people, but today, by some coincidence, it was empty. Just the two of them in that small space.
Senku clicked open a heavy toolbox, already pulling out rulers, vernier calipers, and strange contraptions.
“Wow,” Tsukasa murmured, watching with quiet awe. “Are you part of the stage crew?”
“Something like that,” Senku replied without looking up. “I’m the resident engineer of this circus.”
“Wow…”
Senku glanced sideways, his fingers freezing mid-adjustment. That soft, unforced “wow” settled deeper in his chest than he expected.
He was used to compliments. He’d been swimming in praise for years, from science fairs, invention expos, physics competitions. But still… those two little sincere, gentle, impressed wows from Tsukasa, hit different.
It’s probably just because he’s a college student, Senku reasoned. College students are cooler. Smarter. Naturally, his “wow” carries more weight.
That’s what he told himself, anyway.
A flimsy excuse to muffle the strange, fluttering heat pooling quietly in his chest.
.
.
.
“So, are you single? I mean, singer?” Senku asked while packing his tools into the box.
Tsukasa, seated backward on a chair, flinched a little. His eyes flicked up toward Senku’s back. Senku didn’t turn, but he could feel the pause in the air. A beat of surprise from the word single.
“Yes, i'm single, and no, i'm not a singer,” Tsukasa finally replied. “But I’m not tone-deaf. I’ve got a decent low range, so the Cyclops role suits me. Doesn’t require much vocal technique anyway.”
“Oh.” Senku tried to sound flat and professional, but a tiny smirk still tugged at his lips. “Your voice doesn’t sound that deep.”
Tsukasa leaned forward, a sly smile curling in his voice. “Wanna hear my Cyclops voice?”
Senku hadn’t meant to challenge him. With that testosterone-fueled gym build, Tsukasa could probably pull off a decent villain growl. Still, Senku smirked sharper.
“Go ahead. Impress me, Mr. Cyclops.”
He kept arranging his tools, expecting overly dramatic line. What he didn’t expect was Tsukasa leaning in close, right behind his ear.
And he growling.
Literal growl.
Low. Deep. Bone-shaking.
Senku jolted, goosebumps crawling up his arms. The sound curled around him like smoke. Dark, rich, and raw. He turned slightly, just enough to see strands of dark brown hair falling close to his face, framing that sharp jawline and lashes that were criminally pretty.
Then Tsukasa began to sing. It wasn’t really singing, more like a melodic monologue, whispered straight into his ear in low and rich voice. “Six hundred lives I’ll take… Six hundred lives I’ll break… And when I 'kiss' you then my pain is over…”
Senku froze.
Kiss? That didn’t sound right.
Tsukasa stepped back before Senku could even react, murmuring on his way out, “The song’s called ‘Polyphemus,’ by Jay Herrans…”
Senku blinked, his mouth parted for a second too long. He scrambled for his phone, typing the lyrics in a rush.
The original lyric is “…And when I kill you then my pain is over…”
He reread it. Twice.
Tsukasa had changed the word.
From ‘kill’ to ‘kiss’.
On purpose.
Right into his ear.
.
.
.
Senku listened to all two hours of EPIC: The Musical in one sitting. It was well past midnight, yet he was still wide awake. Headphones in, screen glowing, heart pounding. Not just because of the music, but because this sudden obsession had started with an amateur stage actor.
An amateur actor who just so happened to be very tall, ridiculously handsome, and alarmingly good at flirting back.
“Damn!” Senku muttered, raking a hand through his hair as he hit replay on the song 'Polyphemus'.
The storytelling was powerful and unapologetically emotional. Senku had never cared much music and drama. He wasn’t what people called “artsy.” But this musical grabbed him by the collar and threw him into a vortex of emotional warfare and poetic madness!
Gen was right when he called it a brilliant reinterpretation. The fan-made animatics widely shared on YouTube added incredible visual depth. It’s just a collection of songs, but listening to them feels like watching a movie or reading a novel.
Two hours became three.
Then four.
He wasn’t just listening anymore. He was diving. Deep. Through trivia threads, composer interviews, Reddit theories, reaction videos, TikToks, blooper reels.
He groaned and rolled onto his back, phone still glowing in his hand, eyes dry and brain buzzing. But one thought stuck, bright and impossible to ignore. “If I memorize enough of this, maybe I’ll have something to talk about with Tsukasa…”
And maybe, just maybe, get him to say “kiss” again.
.
.
.
Tsukasa’s presence, unsurprisingly, stirred up a quiet wave of discomfort across the rehearsal hall.
He stood a little stiffly, aware of the half curious, half suspicious stares from the rest of the high school cast.
This was a school play, organized by and for students. So, what was a towering college guy doing here?
Gen, of course, was the first to speak. He stepped forward with a grin far too sugary to be sincere.
“You all know Uei Yoo’s kind of an asshole,” he said cheerily, vulgarity wrapped in honey. “Always disappears the moment you give him a task! So, he tossed Tsukasa in here as a sacrifice to the gods. You guys are on my dad’s payroll anyway, so maybe Tsukasa just wants a little extra for his college tuition. Kidding! Haha! Alright, back to vocal warm-ups, my little songbirds~!”
Senku twitched at Gen’s usual dramatic flair. Why must he always act so extra?
He stepped forward and tugged Tsukasa gently by the sleeve. “Ignore him,” Senku muttered. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Tsukasa smiled, visibly relieved.
"Oddly enough, Senku’s hand found its way into Tsukasa’s, and stayed there, casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Even more surprising, Tsukasa didn’t flinch. Not even a little.
Senku marched him forward like a tour guide.
“That’s Sai,” he pointed to a shy boy with perm curls, buried in a script. “He’s our Captain Odysseus. Math champion, international level. Gen blackmailed him into the lead role by threatening to revoke his access to the school’s MathLab software or something. Point is, he’s never touched a stage in his life, and now he’s gotta sing while fighting Cyclops and Charybdis.”
Tsukasa blinked, eyebrows raised.
“How do you know about Captain Odysseus and Charybdis?” he asked. “Didn’t Gen say you didn’t know anything about this musical?”
Senku just shrugged, playing it cool. “I read the wiki,” he lied smoothly. But inside, his chest bloomed with smug satisfaction. Gotcha, Cyclops Boy.
He led Tsukasa around the hall, their hands still idiotically, and endearingly, intertwined. As they stopped at each corner of the rehearsal space, Senku kept up his commentary with the tone of someone who’d totally not watched four hours of fan edits last night.
“That guy with the big brows is Sai’s brother, Ryusui. He plays Eurylochus. Their fallout on stage hits different, probably because they’re real-life siblings with same daddy issues.”
Tsukasa chuckled. “Wait! How do you know Eurylochus and Odysseus have fallout in the musical?”
Senku dodged the question entirely.
“Ukyo’s over there, sound engineer and vocal coach. He plays Polites. And… ” he leaned closer with mock seriousness, “you have to kill him in the Cyclops battle. The fandom’s gonna hate you to the bone.”
Tsukasa laughed aloud this time. Still holding hands. Still pretending it wasn’t anything special.
Senku pointed toward a group of girls in one corner of the rehearsal hall. He waved at them casually. “That’s the girl squad. Kohaku’s playing Goddess Athena. Her sister, Ruri playing Queen Penelope. They look kinda alike, but just remember, Kohaku’s the gorilla-powered tomboy, Ruri has more damsel in the stress aura.”
Tsukasa laughed again. “Got it! Who’s playing Circe the Witch then?”
“Oh, that’s Amaryllis,” Senku said, gesturing toward a fair-skinned girl with thick hair coiled under a golden headdress. “One of our best singers.”
“How about Calypso?”
“Luna Wright, one of exchange student in this school.”
“How about Aphrodite?” Tsukasa asked.
“Minami Hokutozai,” Senku said, pointing to a blonde girl across the room. Tsukasa nodded.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she? I mean… she is Aphrodite. She’s supposed to be the prettiest one,” Senku suddenly asked, like it was just a passing comment, though his eyes flicked sideways, waiting.
Tsukasa tilted his head.
“Yeah… she is gorgeous.”
Senku suddenly let go of Tsukasa’s hand.
So quick it was almost unconscious.
But then Tsukasa added, “Though, if beauty were the only requirement to play Aphrodite…I’d probably just throw a wig on you, and have you sing her part.”
Senku’s heart dropped straight into his stomach!
What kind of flirt is that??
Before Senku proccess it, Tsukasa already walk away, grab his microphone and approach Ukyo for some vocal coaching like nothing happened.
.
.
.
Between designing ultra-engineered props, Senku always made time to sit in on rehearsals. The place was deafening, full of soaring high notes, crashing ocean sound effects, and booming choir harmonies.
But the chaos was magnetic.
The cast had quickly warmed up to Tsukasa, especially after singing together. They nailed their parts with impressive energy, often bursting into laughter mid-rehearsal. Gen barked directions, Ukyo corrected vocal intonations, and Homura fine-tuned choreography. They chatted, shouted, delivered lines, laughed again.
Senku, who used to loathe theater, now found the mess kind of... endearing.
Especially because of the tall, striking figure with compression shirt in the middle of it all. Tsukasa, growling like a monstrous Cyclops and somehow still managing to look stunning.
During a short break, Tsukasa spotted Senku across the room and jogged over.
“Senku!” he called out.
Senku jolted at the sudden attention, then broke into a grin he couldn’t quite suppress.
“Can you take a video or snap a few photos when I sing? My mom wants to see it,” Tsukasa said, a little sheepish.
“Oh, sure! Where’s your phone?”
“Ah… I forgot it. Can you use yours? Just send them to my LINE later. Here’s my ID…”
Senku blinked. A small alarm bell rang in his head.
“Wait a second,” he narrowed his eyes. “Did you just… trick me into giving you my contact info?”
He half-expected Tsukasa to laugh nervously or scratch his head and offer some excuse. But instead, Tsukasa smiled and said smoothly, “Yeah. That way, you won’t have to ask for my pictures next time.”
Senku’s cheeks warmed instantly.
“H-hey,” he stammered, “that’s kind of a narcissistic way to flirt, don’t you think?”
Tsukasa shrugged with a grin. “If you don’t like it, you can delete the photos after you send them.”
He turned to head back to the stage, but before he could get far, Senku shouted behind him, “TRUST ME, I WON’T!”
That is not the smartest word Senku ever said to people.
Tsukasa glanced back mid-step, chuckling happily.
.
.
.
The whole “are you single? I mean, singer?” line had been a deliberate throwaway. Senku just wanted to mess with him. If Tsukasa had been disgusted, well, fine. Worth the joke.
But instead, Tsukasa flirted back.
And then did it again.
And again.
And the worst part was, he made it look effortless, like it wasn’t flirting at all. Just some casual comment tossed out with a cute smile.
Unfair! Completely unfair!
Senku slumped back in his chair, fingers raking through his hair in pure frustration. Why was he the only one getting tongue-tied and flushed and full of dumb butterflies?? Ugh! College students were a different breed entirely!
He had to say something clever. Anything clever! But how was he supposed to function with those stupid perfect eyelashes and the stupid pecs?
Before he could formulate any kind of comeback, a voice called from the doorframe.
“Senku!” Joel Gear poked his head in, excited. “The mecha’s ready!”
“Oh, right!” Senku jumped to his feet, rushing over just as Joel pushed in a rolling cart with the lower-body prosthetic perched in the center of the workshop.
It looked like a monstrous marvel. Bulky and grotesque, with exaggerated joints and retractable limbs. The giant, ogre-like “legs” were wrapped in casing that looked like it had crawled out of mythology itself, perfect for a stage Cyclops meant to terrify the audience.
“You did awesome work on the detailing, Joel!” Senku said, already circling the rig with admiration. “Is it ready to test?”
Joel beamed. “Yup! I already called our Cyclops guy.”
Senku froze mid-step. “Wait. You… what?”
“Hey,” came a familiar voice. Tsukasa stepped inside with calm smile.
Senku nearly dropped his wrench.
.
.
.
The first tryout was perfect.
Tsukasa loved the mecha. He tested a few steps, and the built-in speakers let out heavy, dramatic stomps with every move.
“Haha! This is super cool!” he laughed, eyes wide with awe as he towered well over two meters. “I feel like a real monster! How did you even build this? You’re better than any engineering student I’ve ever met in college!”
Senku shrugged, pretending to be casual. “Eh, just some cables and mechanics here and there.”
But inside, his stomach was doing somersaults.
No!
He couldn’t let himself feel that way. That flutter in his chest and that damned butterfly sensation, was exactly why Tsukasa could keep flirting so effortlessly and walk away, leaving Senku flustered and stupidly in love.
Suddenly, without warning, Tsukasa started singing. His deep voice rolling through the workshop.
“You killed my sheep… my favorite sheep… What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? Don’t you know the pain you sow is pain you reap?”
Senku couldn’t help but grin. Then he joined in, matching the rhythm and melody, half-serious, half-teasing.
“Have a drink… one sip and you’ll understand… The power that’s in your hands! A wine so fresh, you’d never wanna eat human flesh again…”
Tsukasa flinched mid-step, then stared at him, genuinely impressed.
Senku laughed. “Shit, wrong lyrics!”
“No! That’s actually correct!” Tsukasa said, still grinning. “You’ve got a solid voice! Come on, sing it with me! Let’s run through the whole duet! I’ll do Polyphemus, you be Odysseus. It’s such a cool scene!”
Senku’s stomach flipped again. This. This right here! This was exactly the kind of moment he’d imagined when he binge-listened to Epic The Musical a few nights ago!
“Fine,” he said, still trying to be casual, “but I need a prop. For the wine scene.”
He grabbed a half-empty sports drink bottle from the floor and held it like an offering chalice. They fell into rhythm instantly.
Tsukasa, standing tall in the mecha suit, snarled through Polyphemus’ lines, outraged about his slain sheep. Senku answered as Odysseus, feigning apology, offering wine in exchange. Their voices intertwined, clashing and harmonizing in that eerie, theatrical tension.
Senku botched a few lyrics, stumbled on some notes, but Tsukasa didn’t seem to mind at all. He stayed in character, growling and grinning as the fearsome Cyclops making a deal with the clever mortal.
By the time the duet ended, both of them were laughing. Shoulders shaking, cheeks flushed.
Senku was breathless, his heart pounding. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline from singing, or the way Tsukasa kept dragging him deeper into this magical chaos.
.
.
.
What neither of them realized was that Gen had passed by just in time to hear the tail end of their duet. Gen froze in the hallway, jaw unhinged in sheer disbelief.
Senku? Singing?
Senku, the boy who had always said theater was a waste of time, just sang an entire Epic The Musical duet?
And not just sang. Sang in character.
Still stunned, Gen peeked through the doorframe just in time to see Tsukasa stepping out of the mecha suit, and the two of them casually launching into chatter.
“Now I get why Gen cast Sai instead of Ryuusui as Odysseus,” Senku said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“Oh?” Tsukasa looked curious.
“Ryuusui has the ‘captain’ aura, sure. But he’s all testosterone. Sai has that gentle edge. He can pull off the soft emotional scenes Odysseus needs. And in this version of the story, Odysseus isn’t just clever and strong, he’s also gentle.”
Tsukasa nodded enthusiastically. “Gen made a good call. Emphasizing Odysseus’ gentle side definitely best strategy.”
From the hallway, Gen nearly collapsed in silent agony.
SINCE WHEN DID SENKU KNOW ANY OF THIS???
He clutched the doorframe like a telenovela villain catching his partner in a scandal. His brain screamed.
But then… Gen paused.
He looked again, at Senku’s wide grin, at the soft way Tsukasa smiled back, at the way their laughter folded into one another like it belonged.
And just like that, Gen had his answer. That warmth between them, it only ever meant one thing.
“I guess it’s not just Odysseus who found love in this play,” Gen said.
.
.
.
“That was fun, Senku,” Tsukasa said as they stepped out of the room together.
Senku felt his cheeks warm instantly. “Glad you managed to have fun, even with your legs trapped in that clunky prosthetic.”
Tsukasa chuckled. “Wrap me in anything,” he said, voice low and teasing, “I’ll still find a way to enjoy myself… as long as it’s with you.”
There it was. The flirt. Again.
Senku opened his mouth, brain scrambling for something witty, clever, anything cool. But nothing came. Absolutely nothing.
Tsukasa was looking at him with those shiny eyes and that stupidly pretty smile and…
“I… I’m underage, you know,” Senku blurted suddenly.
Tsukasa blinked, then burst into laughter.
“No! Wait! I mean, I'm still in high school!” Senku flailed. “You probably see me as, like, your tiny little brother or something!”
Tsukasa laughed even harder, and Senku could feel the red climbing from his neck to the tips of his ears.
But then Tsukasa calmed down, catching his breath, and looked at him with a gentle expression. He reached out and lightly tugged Senku’s hand.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said softly. “But… you’re so mature, Senku. And honestly, you’re criminally cute. Sometimes I forget. Really, I'm sorry.”
That face!
That damn unfairly handsome face, with its soft expression and fluttering lashes absolutely set Senku’s nerves on fire. His stomach was a butterfly war zone.
“Y-yeah, well…” Senku stammered, his face still flaming, “just don’t forget I’m only seventeen!”
Then, before he lost his nerve, he added, “So let’s talk again on January 4th, next year, when I’m eighteen…”
Tsukasa stop completely frozen, staring at him in disbelief.
His face was unmistakably red.
Senku grinned.
Oh god.
Apparently, he flirted too hard.
.
.
.
The stage play had begun.
Every prop, especially the mechanical ones, worked seamlessly, bringing this bold reinterpretation of The Odyssey to life. The moment the opening narration echoed across the stage, the audience erupted in thunderous applause.
Nanami Sai stepped out as Captain Odysseus, clad in gleaming, stylized Greek armor. With a clear, commanding voice, he led the Greek soldiers into the powerful opening musical number, “The Horse and the Infant.”
As the momentum built, Senku tapped his controller backstage, triggering the illusion of a rain of arrows. Light-prop arrows with suction-cup tips zipped down from above, each connected to fine strings that tangled the actors. One by one, the “soldiers” fell to the stage in perfect rhythm.
Then Ryuusui Nanami stormed in as Eurylochus, slicing through the string lines, as if he battling enemy, but actually cut the string and clean the stage in a well-choreographed flurry. Thunderous war sound effects rattled the hall, sending shivers through the audience.
The scene shifted to one of the musical’s most gut-wrenching moments, where Odysseus being ordered to kill baby Astyanax, the son of his enemy.
Sai delivered the emotion with haunting grace as he held the baby prop. His trembling voice cracking. Across from him, Magma towered as Zeus, the god who imposed the cruel demand.
Even Senku, watching from backstage, had to swipe a tear from his eye as Sai dropped to his knees, pleading desperately to let the baby alive.
The stage lights bathed the moment in tragic warmth, and broke the audience into tears.
Then came the transition, Odysseus and his men setting sail for home. Senku flipped another switch, and the waves came alive.
The audience gasped as the ocean on stage began to move. What looked like simple cardboard earlier was now transformed, thanks to Joel and Senku’s innovation. The cardboard was layered with a thin screen projecting real-time wave textures. It looked like water and moved like water on stage.
As the waves rolled, Sai sang on, this time in a stirring trio with Ryuusui as Eurylochus and Ukyo as Polites. The crowd erupted when Ukyo opened his mouth. Polites was a fans’ favorite. Their voices soared, rising and falling with the motion of the sea.
Then came Suika, the tiny elementary schooler who proudly played a “Winnion”, a small, whimsical creature guiding Odysseus’ crew to the Cyclops’ cave.
Senku could practically hear the audience whispering “Awwww” as Suika skipped around the stage in her sweet, high voice.
And then…
The Cyclops arrived.
The lights dimmed.
The crew "killed" the sheep, as a large screen displayed exaggerated silhouettes of the slaughter.
And suddenly…
Boom.
Boom.
BOOM!
The sound of enormous, thundering footsteps echoed across the hall. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
From the shadows, a towering, grotesque figure stepped onto the stage. Tsukasa, fully suited in his prosthetic legs and Cyclops makeup, moved with eerie precision.
His glowing eye flickered in the light. His growl reverberated through the speakers. The mecha legs hissed and creaked. Every movement synchronized with the lighting.
From backstage, Senku smirked as half the audience shrieked in real, startled fear.
Perfect!
His creation had worked even better than he hoped.
Scene by scene, song by song, the performance unfolded.
Each actor delivered their role with stunning dedication.
Kohaku, as the powerful Goddess Athena, sang with a crystal-clear voice, her onstage arguments with Sai’s Odysseus sharp and commanding.
Homura floated above the stage in a harness, embodying the God of Wind, her airy vocals matching her ethereal presence.
Amaryllis took the stage as Circe, casting spells in a dazzling magic battle with Odysseus, made even more spectacular by the screen effects that lit up around them.
Then came another fan-favorite, Hermes, the Messenger of the Gods, played by none other than Asagiri Gen himself. His flamboyant entrance and giggle were a perfect mirror of the Hermes written by Jay Herrans in Epic The Musical. The audience erupted with laughter and applause, completely enchanted.
The hall was alive. Gasping, crying, laughing. Each moment more intense than the last.
Senku, from backstage, worked in perfect sync with the performance. Every mechanical cue he triggered added depth to the story. Lights, screens, sound effects, props, all creating a dazzling illusion of magic.
Then came the climax.
The audience held their breath as Odysseus faced Poseidon, the mighty God of the Sea, played by none other than Mr. Kokuyo, one of the school’s teachers. The battle was explosive, with waves roaring through the speakers.
But the final scene broke the last of the audience’s restraint.
The scene where Odysseus returned home, reunited with his son, Telemachus, and his faithful wife Penelope, played with gentle grace by Ginro and Ruri.
Ruri’s voice trembled with emotion as she sang the final ballad.
“I will fall in love with you over and over again… I don't care how, where, or when… No matter how long it's been, you're mine… Don't tell me you're not the same person… You're always my husband, and I've been waiting… waiting…”
As she finished the line, the stage lights dimmed.
Then Sai, as Odysseus, joined her in a soft, layered harmony.
Their voices intertwined in the final refrain, and the curtain fell to a stunned silence, followed by thunderous, tearful applause.
.
.
.
Senku’s tears spilled quietly, just as the auditorium erupted into deafening applause.
The audience was on their feet, clapping, cheering, whistling. A standing ovation that shook the walls. The final curtain had fallen, but Senku was still frozen in place, overwhelmed.
Before he could lift a hand to wipe his face, a soft rustling sound interrupted him.
A tissue appeared in front of him.
It was Tsukasa.
He stood beside him, tall and steady, his eyes glassy too. They didn’t speak at first. Just shared a tissue box, shoulders brushing, hearts still soaring in the lingering haze of adrenaline.
“You worked so hard, Mr. Engineer,” Tsukasa murmured, voice low and full of something soft.
Senku swallowed. “Yeah… I should thank you, actually,” he said, glancing sideways at him. “If you hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve quit this whole production.”
“Really?” Tsukasa blinked. “Why?”
Senku gave a small huff, shaking his head. “Because Gen is a pain in the ass. He literally blackmailed me with my clubroom key. And his daddy’s money is not exactly inspiring.”
Tsukasa tilted his head, amused. “Then… what did inspire you?”
Their eyes locked. The noise of the world faded for just a second.
And Senku, cheeks flushed but steady, leaned in and whispered, “A cool college student in a compression shirt.”
Tsukasa stared at him, then smiled.
Not the flirty grin he often wore, but something softer. Fonder. His expression was glowing in the most unfair, heart-melting way.
He leaned in, close enough for his breath to warm Senku’s skin.
“See you on January 4th… when you’re not a minor anymore,” he whispered back.
Senku bit his lip. His heartbeat fluttered.
“Yes…” he breathed. “I’ll be waiting…”