Archive of Our Own

Genos found Saitama sitting on top of the skull of his latest conquest. The massive fanged jaw had been shattered, a crater caving in the cheekbone and a significant portion of the cap, leaving the rest of the fleshless bones to fall into a loose pile now that whatever was animating them was destroyed.

Saitama's feet swung in the empty space where a brain ought to be. The surface of the bones was rougher than Genos had expected, allowing him to scale the skull and join his teacher in watching the sun set.

"Sensei," he said. He meant to add more, to praise him for the victory, or ask what he was doing, but something on Saitama's face stopped him. Genos sat down on the broken edge of the skull, close enough to Saitama that their elbows brushed when Saitama reached up to rub his nose.

"I guess it makes sense it was weak," Saitama said.

"Sensei?"

"The skeleton, I mean. Bones are fragile. But it was so big. I don't know." He let out a breath that wasn't, quite, a sigh.

"It was magic, sensei, there's no way to be sure how strong something magic is."

"Yeah. You're right." Saitama relaxed a little. He half-turned and gave Genos an attempt at a smile. "You didn't need to come looking for me though. I think it's pretty safe to assume I'll always be okay."

"I didn't think you were hurt, sensei. I still don't know if you're okay."

Saitama laughed at that, a good sign even if he was faking it. "Yeah, Genos. I'm- you know, I'm okay as I ever am."

"If you're feeling bad, sensei, you can tell me." Genos hesitated, and added, "This isn't normal behavior for you."

"Isn't it?"

"You defeat a monster and usually finish errands or come home. Now you've been sitting in one place staring at the sun for an hour."

Saitama shrugged. "No errands today."

"Sensei."

He laughed again. "Maybe I'm dwelling on it more than usual. But I'm okay. Really."

Impulsively, Genos put his hand on top of Saitama's on his lap. Saitama gave him a startled look.

"I'm going to get stronger, sensei. I'm going to give you a good fight one day."

The dullness in Saitama's eyes drifted away, bringing some of the sharpness back to his face. "Genos, you don't want to do that."

"Yes I do."

"Being this strong... it's no fun. It's- like when you go to pop your knuckles but they won't. Or it's like when you have to sneeze and it just- You know? Where it just doesn't come out?"

"I don't need to sneeze anymore sensei, and I cannot pop my knuckles, but I think I remember what you mean."

Saitama winced, looking down at Genos' hand, at the metal caps of his finger joints. "Those were bad metaphors, sorry."

"It's okay, sensei." And before he could stop himself, said, "They were similes."

Saitama smiled. "Of course you'd know that. What's the difference, anyway?"

"Similes use 'like' or 'as.'"

"That's all? Why's there two different words, then?"

"I'm- I don't know, sensei."

"Don't know everything, do you?" The teasing was gentle, and Saitama turned his hand over to grip Genos'.

"No, sensei."

They sat there in silence for a while. The light was fading, going from pink to purple, but Genos didn't look at the horizon. He didn't dare move his eyes from Saitama's face.

"Don't get as strong as me," Saitama said finally. "You have a goal, right? You- you want to get your revenge. I don't know... if you'll feel better afterward. But do you even enjoy fighting for its own sake?"

"Enjoy?" Genos repeated. He'd never thought about it.

"Do you have fun fighting? Do you care about it?"

"I... don't know. I care about becoming stronger. Fighting helps with that."

"What do you actually like? Every time I take you out somewhere for fun, you spend the whole time trying to turn it into training."

Genos wished he could read his teacher better sometimes. He was usually good at it, he could see through the veil of nonchalance to anger, or sadness, or frustration. But now all he could see was the intensity of Saitama's dark eyes.

"I don't know," Genos said. "I can't have preferences like that, sensei. It would get in the way."

"Am I in the way?"

"No, sensei!" Genos exclaimed, so loud Saitama leaned back. "No," he said again, quieter. "You're my sensei. You're training me to be stronger. How could you be in the way?"

"Because I want you to like things? Because I make you do chores, and take you to festivals, and-"

"But you want to help me! If you think those things will make me a better hero, then-"

"Dammit Genos I want you to be happy!"

Genos fell silent.

"That's why I do that stuff. And- and going to the bath house, and flower viewing, and even letting you pay rent."

"You don't need the money, sensei?" Genos asked, frowning.

"Even if I did, how could I take it? You already do all the cleaning and half the grocery shopping."

Genos tightened his grip on Saitama's hand. "You don't think being happy will help me get stronger?"

"To be honest, Genos? No. I don't." After a pause he added, "It didn't for me."

"I know," Genos said softly.

"I know you have a goal, and I'm not going to try and stop you from doing it. But once you do? I'm not going to help you get as strong as me."

Genos turned away, watched the last sliver of sunlight dip below the skyline of the city in the distance. The sky was still pink and purple, but stars were starting to peek through the clouds.

"I want to make you happy too, sensei."

Saitama pulled his hand out of Genos' grasp. "You already do."

Genos turned, and Saitama must have been attempting to kiss his cheek, because Genos was just in time to intercept his lips. They pressed, briefly, on half of Genos' mouth, withdrawing to form an O of surprise.

"Sorry."

"It- it's okay."

"Wanna try that again?"

"Yes."