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It had never been like this before.
The rush of it all was making Saitama’s head spin, he had never faced such an enemy before. Currently, he was hiding behind a tree, trying to get his bearings, assess the situation. It felt as though his foe could multiply, be in more than one place. It sure was keeping him on his toes.
But that’s what he loved.
His heart thudded in his chest, excitement slamming into his very skin as he contemplated his next course of action. The sound of rustling leaves told him that there wasn’t much time to make a decision.
So he ran.
He ran for the next spot of cover, flames licking at his heels, catching the hem of his shirt. He hadn’t even had time to change into his costume, for God sake, the threat had been so imminent. He bounced and jumped, avoiding the thrown punches, feeling as though multiple fists were coming at him at once, attempting to grab him.
The creature laughed, high pitched and squealing, making Saitama ache as he pushed his muscles. It was so fast, so overwhelmingly quick that he had to dodge and weave his way through it all. He could smell a little smoke and meat, his veins pumping cold adrenaline through him.
Saitama felt the first part of the creature clamp around his leg, tripping him as he reached toward the sky, gasping dramatically. Was this how it ended? Another part grabbed the other part of his leg and he turned over, pulling them up to make a grab for them before he was swarmed, the smaller segments of his greatest adversary pushing him down, running over his sides and he gasped for mercy, the sting of defeat bitter and yet sweet in the back of his mouth. There was no escape, only the embrace of oblivion as he was held to the ground by his greatest foe yet.
“Sensei?” he heard a voice call. Oh, Genos. His sweet Genos. He’d be leaving him so young, mourning. He only hoped that his lover could move on, find his strength in other places.
“Sensei what are you doing?” golden eyes came into view as he held one segment of his adversary away from his chest, the little metal body squirming and squealing in his grip as the other parts giggled and chanted “sensei” as well.
“Genos,” he groaned dramatically, wincing a tad as Eiko managed to get him in the ribs with a pointy elbow. Sure, it didn’t hurt but the little Genosbots weren’t exactly padded and that still felt uncomfortable. “Geos, go on without me! Promise you’ll find love someday again!”
Genos’ face could not have gotten any more deadpan if he’d tried, but Biiko was tugging at his apron a little, golden eyes pleading with Genos to play along with their game before the cyborg gave a great sigh and fell to his knees.
“No Sensei,” he said, voice flat, “don’t leave me, you have so much to live for, whatever shall I do without your strength?”
Saitama chuckled a little before shooting up, grabbing an armful of Genosbots, the little things squealing and wriggling and laughing in his grip.
“Genos!” he cried, “you’ve given me the strength I need to carry on!” He stood up in a flash, Biiko coming over to grab at his leg again as Jiro squirmed a little harder to run over to Genos, babbling about their game of tag. The rest of them just got cozy in Saitama’s grip, not looking to resist too hard.
“Great,” Genos said fondly, reaching down to pet Jiro’s head, “because it’s time for dinner and all of you need a bath.”
Saitama laughed a little bit, kissing Genos gently before putting the Genosbots on the ground. He was definitely dirty from playing tag for the last few hours and the kids were covered in scuffs and dents that had managed to get more dirt rubbed into them then not. Plus, all their clothes were covered in some kind of grass stains and mud.
“Okay kids,” Saitama said, ruffling Shiro’s hair, “go on inside and get your clothes in the laundry. We’ll all wash up and then it’ll be dinner time.”
“Yes, sensei!” the pack of Genosbots chimed before running off toward the apartment building, pushing and shoving and laughing all the while. To think, only a few months ago they had been expressionless, like real robots rather than the emerging AI that they were.
Saitama wrapped an arm around Genos as they followed behind, his lover’s blond head resting on his shoulder.
“You indulge them too much, sensei,” the teen murmured, kissing his jaw, clearly happy with the day.
Saitama just shrugged. He hadn’t seen himself being a dad a year ago, but the little bots were so sweet and they had just needed someone to play with. Sure, that came with little tantrums over not being allowed to burn trees or pouty, tear filled eyes because of dents that hurt just a tad more than usual, but that was all part of it. For every frustrating defeat there were a million little victories like Goro learning to paint in watercolors and Ichiro making a new friend at the park.
He was okay with the fact that they were constantly beating him, even at games like tag or whittling down his ability to say no with their big, golden doe eyes.
He wondered where on earth they got that from.
The hero tugged his lover closer to his side before they ascended the steps, helping him pick up tiny, carelessly cast-off shoes as they went.
“Hey, people always said that parenthood was the greatest challenge in life, it’s okay to lose every so often.”
Genos just snorted, taking in the mess that was the entryway to their apartment, little shirts and skirts and shorts all scattered to the winds as though the children had forgotten where the laundry basket was as they raced for the tub.
“You’re doing the laundry then, sensei.”