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The preparations to depart for South America were going smoothly. But of course there was still way too much work to do, and as much as Gen wanted everything to go well, he had only so much energy, so three days before they were scheduled to sail, he was hiding from the noon sun in the tent farthest away from the coast. Better, sturdier buildings had sprung up all over the old camp, so the temporary animal skin tents were rarely in use these days, and Gen knew how to take advantage of a quiet moment.
He was honestly only going to have a few cups of herbal tea before going back, but just as he brought the cup to his lips, the tent flap lifted and he flinched hard as the loud “Huh-Huh!” disturbed the quiet.
“Finally, I found you! I knew you were lazing off somewhere!” Ryusui said with his usual smug tone, but the way he kept the volume down instantly put Gen on alert.
“What’s up, Ryusui, dear? Did you need something?” Gen asked, looking sadly at his cup, only half-full now, after he spilled it on the floor in his fright.
“I need to talk to you. It has to do with our illustrious science leader,” Ryusui answered, but he was almost whispering now, and Gen’s heart missed a beat.
Was he wrong about Ryusui after all? Was the man playing some sort of a game?
“Please, dear, be plain with me. What do you want to tell me?” he asked, making sure to keep his face neutral. Ryusui, however, was not grinning greedily, as Gen would have expected. In fact, Gen has never seen his face look more serious. And then he did something Gen has never imaged he would see him do. He hesitated.
Gen felt his eyes grow wider with every second it took the usually unwavering man to gather his courage. Finally, Ryusui sat down on the bench opposite Gen and started.
“I’m sure, having worked in the show business back in the day, you are familiar with recreational drugs?”
Taken aback, Gen nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. I never partook myself, but I did attend a lot of parties. Why do you ask, Ryusui, dear?”
“Have you ever seen amphetamine in its powder form?”
Well, now Gen was actually getting worried, especially as Ryusui started digging into his coat pocket. “I can’t say that I have, no. But why do you ask?”
Ryusui pulled out a dark leather bundle bound by crisscrossed rope. Not bothering to answer, he put it down on the table between them.
“I found this in Senku’s lab yesterday, when we returned from the Ishigami village. I’m not an expert, of course, but I’ve seen it before. The smell is hard to forget. Slightly fishy.”
With trembling fingers, Gen unwrapped the package. It was full of smaller wax paper baggies. Opening one of them, he saw a light orange powder, and a smell like slightly off fish hit him in the nose. He coughed and hurried to close the wax covering.
He looked at Ryusui, still unusually grim. “I’m sure this is not what you think, dear. Senku is the only one here who understands how to make all kinds of chemicals, I’m sure he is only using it for something-or-other, the next science contraption or miracle medicine of the day. There’s no need to jump to conclusions!”
But before Gen could exhale and leave it at that, Ryusui said, “I would have thought so too, but then I saw him take it.”
What?
“W-what?” Gen asked, not quite trusting his ears.
R yusui sighed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly older then his years in Gen’s eyes. “I noticed that he was unusually quiet yesterday, so I came to his lab to check on him this morning, but I was not sure what he was working on and came in quietly, so he would not be startled while handling dangerous chemicals.
Instead, I watched him put this powder into dried seaweed capsules and take one right away. I did not know what it was yet, but the smell was familiar, so I did not let him know I was there, and instead waited for him to leave.”
Ryusui looked away. “The expression on Senku’s face when he took the drug… Gen. He looked so relieved. Almost like he could cry.”
Gen felt his face drain of color. That was confirmation, wasn’t it? Senku wasn’t just making the drug as a material for something useful, or even trying it once for the sake of trying it, because he could, while the world was not in position to stop him. No.
Senku had a problem.
Gen did not know much about drug addiction, but there were a few things he was sure of.
One: it was very dangerous. Drugs could change brain chemistry to create chemical dependency that could be very difficult to break. They also affected the body in various horrible ways. A single accidental overdose could be fatal, especially in this world without ambulances or defibrillators.
Two: it was almost impossible for an addict to quit hard drugs on his own. The drugs would call to them like a siren song, promising relief from sorrows, artificial happiness and contentment. Also, drug addicts usually used as a substitute for something they were missing in real life, and the process of quitting had to involve therapy and many, many other kinds of help.
Three: Senku had to quit. And if he could not do that himself, even with his giant science brain, Gen would do everything and anything to make it happen. And so would Senku’s other friends.
So, they quietly moved back the departure date and staged a meeting for the next morning.
Gen, Ryusui, Kohaku and Ukyo (who had taken the new s especially hard) all hid themselves next door to the science lab right after dawn, and waited. Sure enough, less then an hour later, Senku stumbled in, still yawning as he opened the door . They waited another two minutes to be sure, and walked in.
Senku was frantically turning over his materials drawer, pulling out one item after the other, muttering to himself, “Where… No, I’m sure it was...”
Gen cleared his throat, and Senku’s head whipped around, panic visible on his face for just a second before he gathered himself. “Oh. Morning , guys. What are you doing here?”
Then his gaze fell to the dark leather bundle in Gen’s hands, and he breathed out in relief. “Oh, you took it. Good, I thought someone might have stolen it, or something. Last thing we need right now is people getting high right before we sail. Give that to me, would you?”
Senku came to them, and tried to take the package back, but Gen did not let go. Senku frowned. “What? Do you need it for something, Gen?”
For once, Gen felt totally speechless. The audacity! Luckily, he wasn’t alone.
“Senku, you know that I am a man of greed. I understand wanting every pleasure this world has to offer, and wanting it now. But you are so very intelligent. Surely you must know that this is not the way to do it?” Ryusui asked, and his voice was full of gentle disappointment.
Senku stared the them for a short moment, but then his face cleared. “Ah. Of course. This is an intervention. I should have realized. You guys really care about me, huh?” Senku smiled, lopsided but sincere, and let go of the bundle, turning around. “Come on in. We should talk about it.”
They all exchanged a confused glance, having expected a different reaction, but decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth and followed him in, gathering around a glass top table. Gen put the package down on it, careful to keep it out of Senku’s reach.
Kohaku had to break the tense silence first. “Senku, I don’t really understand what that thing is, but Gen says it can kill you. Why would you risk something like that?” Hew eyes were shining, but there was steel in there, too.
Ukyo was next. “I know you would not do this without a reason. I know you’ve been through a lot. You are under so much pressure, all the time. But you don’t need this. You have us! You can just ask for help! We would always help you!”
Senku was still watching them with a soft look, but he did not reply. Gen’s rage flared bright again.
“You have a lot of nerve, not even trying to deny it, Senku, my friend. What were you thinking? What happens if you are high when someone needs you? What happens if you OD and there are still no hospitals or doctors around? Why would you ever think this was a good idea?!”
Senku still did not speak, and if anything, his face was only growing more fond. It was an expression Gen had only seen on him a few times, both when he had received a precious gift that he could never have expected. The observatory. His Father’s last message. Tsukasa’s miraculous resurrection.
It made no sense. Gen could not hold it back anymore. “Why are you so calm?!”
Senku’s smile turned into his usual mischievous grin. “Thank you. Really. You guys are great friends. If I was an addict, you would have probably convinced me to quit, right then and there. No, not probably, I’m sure of it. You’ve done a fantastic job, too. Catch them in the act, take away the substance, confront them and present an alternative. I couldn’t have done better myself!”
Gen swallowed hard. That was not an angle he had expected this conversation to take.
“Senku. Dearest. Surely you can’t deny that you are using this drug? You’ve said it yourself, we caught you in the act. Ryusui watched you take it yesterday. Given the amount we found, you can’t tell us you don’t have a problem.”
“Oh, I’m not denying that. I do take amphetamine. Every single day, twice a day, on the same schedule. And I sure as hell have a problem. Your only mistake here is that the problem is the drug, when it’s actually the other way around. The drug is the solution.”
There was a heavy silence, and Gen felt his breathing speeding up, like he suddenly fell though the floor and could not find solid ground.
This was so much worse then he had expected.
But it did make sense, didn’t it? Senku was so smart, but if he was somehow able to justify taking drugs to himself, then even this would fit into his world-view. If he justified it through some outside reason, then he wasn’t doing something stupid, and he could still feel like he was doing the right thing for everyone.
But how do you convince the smartest person in the world that he was making a mistake? This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Then, what is it, Senku? What problem do you have that’s so bad that you have to resort to substance abuse to solve it, instead of just asking for help?” Gen asked, and as much as he tried to keep his voice from shaking, he failed.
Senku sighed. Looked at them all in turn, then returned his gaze to Gen, and seemingly made a decision that he did not like. “Gen, I know you are very good at psychology, but how familiar are you with psychiatry? Or neurology? My guess is, not very, since it wouldn’t come up much in your chosen field. How about the rest of you?”
They all stared, lost. Ukuyo cleared his throat. “Uh, my mom had schizophrenia. Sh e had to be hospitalized a few times. Delusions, paranoia and such. What does it have to do with anything?”
“Are any of you modern people familiar with terms like neurodivergent? Or neurotypical?”
Gen nodded. “Well, yes, I’ve heard them before, or maybe seen on twitter somewhere, but I never really bothered to figure out what they refer to. Is there a point here?”
“Yes, there is. I guess I’d better explain the basics first, then. Most people have roughly the same structure to their brain. The same relative sizes of certain parts of the brain compared to the others. Roughly the same amount of neurotransmitters being released, used up and reabsorbed, when you account for age, sex and body size. But a small percentage of the population has slightly different brains. “Neurodivergent” brains. Some parts of their brain are less developed then usual, others slightly more. Some neurotransmitters are in deficit. It makes them a little different. Not worse or better people. Not smarter or dumber. Just different.
I’m one of those people. To be exact, my brain does not produce nearly enough of the neurotransmitter Dopamine. That means a lot of things, but for the sake of brevity, think of Dopamine as your brain’s reward hormone. Often we are faced with a choice in life – either we take shot-term pleasure, or forgo it for the sake of the long-term benefit. Dopamine is the chemical reward you get for planning ahead. It’s what gives you the pleasant feeling of anticipating the future benefits. It gives you the ability to commit to actions that are not pleasurable in the present moment. It’s your planning and motivation system.
Mine is broken. I don’t know if you noticed, though, because in an emergency, or in a new and exiting situation, it almost makes things easier for me. My brain works best where there are immediate dangers, emergencies. When you either act or die. When everyone else panics, I feel the most alive.
On the other hand, once the emergency is over and there’s nothing urgent to do, my brain very quickly starves of those reward hormones and becomes useless. The best metaphor I’ve heard is, my brain is like a car without keys. I can still start it, but it’s ten times as hard.
We’ve finished the stone wars, we are not about to starve or die out from easily treatable bacterial infections. The threat of the Why-man is distant and seemingly not urgent at all. The trip around the globe, rebuilding it one city at a time, is going to be long, tedious and repetitive. I’d go crazy withing the first week. I can’t stand the thought of having to cope with it without medication. I hope you can understand.”
Gen blinked several times, trying to fit this new information into his little Senku-shaped internal model. It fit surprisingly well.
Ryusui put his hands flat on the table. “Senku, I think I understand. Amphetamine serves as a substitute for dopamine. Am I right?”
“Bingo. Ten billion points.”
“But Gen said it’s very dangerous and causes addiction! Isn’t it?” Kohaku asked, indignant at first, but then her tone faded into uncertainty and concern.
Senku nodded. “Yes, it does, and it is. But its ten billion percent less so for me then it would be for you.”
“Why? Can you explain?” Ukyo leamed in. “Don’t psychoactive substances work the same way for everyone?”
“The main danger of amphetamine is the psychological dependency it creates. When a person with normal levels of dopamine takes it recreationally, they get such a great influx of dopamine, that nothing they could ever do in life would top it. Dopamine is the reward hormone, remember? It feels like they’ve found their whole purpose in life. So instead of continuing to live their lives, they feel that they have to find the next dose, or they’ll never be happy or fulfilled again.
For me, since I take it in very small, medicinal doses, and since my dopamine is chronically too low, there is no chemical high. Other people would get energized, even manic, but me – I just feel calmer, instead. More settled, more focused. Finally I can easily do those small every day things that should not be half as hard as they usually are for me.
There are a few other smaller benefits – more stable mood, less irritability, better working memory. But none of them really matter quite as much as just the ability to focus on my work. That’s what I take it for.”
It made sense, but at the same time it did not. “But won’t it be addictive anyway, Senku, dear?” Gen asked, but the terrible combination of rage and concern was already leaving him. He was ready to give his friend the benefit of the doubt.
“It would be, sure, but I’m already a dopamine addict. Pretty always was, since birth. That’s just how my brain works. Even when I think I’m doing things for rational reasons, in truth, I often realize afterwards that I was also looking for a dopamine fix. Having easy access to it in medicinal doses can only be beneficial at this point, since I can finally stop subconsciously tailoring my plans and actions to the whims of my faulty brain chemistry.” Senku sighed, rubbing his forehead. It made him look very tired. “I just just want to feel like a normal person,” he finished quietly, and Gen felt those words like claws on his heart. ‘Normal person’, huh? How much did that say, exactly, about how Senku usually feels?
Before he had even finished processing the implications of that, Kohaku had already jumped over the table and thrown her arms around Senku.
“We don’t care. Senku, we don’t care if you are normal or not. We love you. We all love you! You know that, right?”
And for the first time since Gen first met Senku, he hugged her back.
The rest of them took it as a que, apparently, and surrounded Senku, touching his shoulders and back, making fun of his disgusted expression and laughing at his grumpy protests. Even Gen eventually found himself getting dragged into the group hug by the grinning Ryusui.
Still, as far as Gen was concerned, they were not done talking yet. Maybe the intervention has taken an unexpected turn, but one thing has not changed – Gen’s goal was still the same. Make sure Senku would be alright.
So after Senku finally crawled out of their circle or arms and had a short breather, he asked, “Is there something we can be doing to help?”
Ryusui, as per usual, snapped his fingers with an obnoxiously optimistic grin. “Of course! There must be other ways for the kingdom of science to make your life easier, Senku. Perhaps even enough that you won’t need this much anymore? Huh?” he asked, pointing at the package, forgotten on the table.
Senku wiped his eyes (while pretending he was only wiping the sweat off his forehead, the silly boy), and grinned.
Gen did not need to hear him say it. He knew exactly what his friend was thinking, anyway.
This was going to be exhilarating!