"Pichu, what are you thinking?"
Tony eyed Pichu, who was staring off in a daze, and looked slightly doubtful… and helpless.
*Really? I'm talking to you about something that directly involves you, and you're zoning out again?*
If they hadn't become good friends after months of banter, Tony wouldn't even bother wasting the time to worry about Pichu's personal matters.
"Sorry, sorry. (Pika, pika.)"
Snapping out of it, Pichu quickly apologized, then typed on his tablet:
> "Sorry, I was just thinking about the method you mentioned earlier. I realized it's actually a really good idea. As expected of you, Tony—you came up with that so quickly."
Internally, Pichu added,
*Well, I do eat his food and use his things. And I was in the wrong earlier, so… better say something nice for once.*
"Hah—so you finally admit I'm a genius."
Tony couldn't help raising his eyebrows with a satisfied grin. Since Pichu had arrived, the little guy had been teasing him nonstop, so hearing an actual compliment felt almost… flattering.
Then it hit him.
*Wait, what the hell? Am I actually feeling flattered? I'm Tony Stark—do I really need someone's approval?*
The truth was, recognition from someone he cared about felt different than from a stranger. He *did* know that deep down, but it wasn't something he consciously thought about often.
That was exactly why his relationship with his father, Howard Stark, had been so tense—because at the core, he'd always wanted Howard's acknowledgment.
Tony could ignore what other people thought about him—
But not the people he cared about.
Shaking off the thought, under Pichu's curious gaze, Tony returned to the topic. Stroking his chin, he said:
"Since you agree, then after the translator is done, we can start designing a portable generator built just for you."
Hearing that, Pichu typed:
> "What about your Mark V?"
Tony smirked. "That's just a concept right now. We'll finish your two projects first. Anyway, my Mark IV is done, and I plan to take it for a spin in a few days."
"…."
Pichu gave him a long, silent look.
"What?" Tony frowned slightly. Catching Pichu's steady stare, he even glanced down at his own clothes, wondering if something was wrong.
Pichu shook his head, then typed:
> "I've always wondered: why can't you fix your… physical problem?"
"Uh…"
Tony paused, then glanced at the arc reactor embedded in his chest. His voice lowered slightly.
"Maybe… keeping it there gives me a sense of responsibility."
Pichu fell silent.
For a few moments, the air between them was heavy and still.
***
A voice broke the quiet.
"What are you two doing?" Pepper's voice floated in from the kitchen.
Blinking, Tony looked up and smiled. "Nothing. Is lunch ready?"
Pepper smiled and nodded. "Yep. Just need to clear the table."
"I'll help."
Tony got up, grinning, then tossed Pichu a quick wink as he headed toward the dining table.
"…." Pichu rolled his eyes.
Watching Tony's back, Pichu's thoughts darkened slightly.
*Should I tell him about the new element early?*
Tony had been nothing but good to him. It made Pichu feel a little guilty.
He knew Tony's arc reactor was poisoning him with palladium, that he couldn't solve it, and that eventually he would spiral—handing the company over to Pepper, even throwing himself into dangerous activities like racing.
Pichu frowned.
*Maybe I should do something…*
***
"Pichu, come eat," Tony's voice called, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Coming."
Pichu turned off the teleporter's power, activated his high-speed movement, and in a flash he was beside the table—leaping into his specially elevated chair.
Normally, he'd just snack on fruit from the sofa. But when both Pepper and Hill were around, he would actually sit and have a proper meal with everyone.
Even a short lunch like this was a taste of what ordinary life felt like—
Plain togetherness, and simple happiness.
***
After lunch, Hill and Pepper stayed for a short chat before leaving—both had busy schedules.
Once they were gone, Pichu didn't return to his electricity charging spot.
Instead, he followed Tony to the lab, focusing on speeding up the development of the language translator.
As for the portable power generator—neither of them was in a rush.
One thing at a time.
Tony was, at the end of the day, just human. His energy and focus were limited, and trying to juggle too many big projects risked spreading them too thin.
Pichu couldn't exactly multitask at genius level either.
Translator first.
Then they could think about the power source.
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