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It was an otherwise normal afternoon when Saitama suddenly looked at the clock, yelped, and jumped to his feet.
“Is it Thursday?”
“Yes, sensei,” Genos replied, watching him scramble to get dressed with some confusion.
“I’ll be back later.” Saitama zipped his hero suit, kissed Genos on the cheek, and ran off. It was ten after four.
Two hours later Saitama returned, his clothes wrinkled and his skin smelling of soap. Genos didn’t ask where he’d gone; despite the change in their relationship Genos didn’t think it was his place to question everything Saitama did. After all, Saitama pelt Genos with demands when Genos was gone for days at a time. He knew it had to do with his personal quest, and he didn’t interfere.
They ate together, watched some television, and when Genos tentatively suggested making love Saitama was as enthusiastic as ever. Wrapped in his arms, Genos forgot any ridiculous suspicions and fell asleep in utter contentment.
For a week, Genos forgot about it. Well, mostly. He did still wonder, an idle thought crossing his mind, but he always brushed it away. By Thursday the curiosity was nearly gone entirely. Until, at 3:45, Saitama asked if he wanted the TV left on and started to get dressed in his hero suit.
“Are you going for a walk?” Genos asked, keeping his eyes on the dishes he was washing (they should have been done earlier but there was a monster Saitama allowed him to handle after lunch and it took until now to get back to them).
Saitama hesitated for a full ten seconds before saying, “Uh-huh,” and leaving. Without a kiss this time.
Genos told himself not to worry. There was nothing to worry about, Saitama wouldn’t keep secrets from him, and certainly would never cheat on him. The fact that Genos was even entertaining the notion was an insult. There was absolutely no evidence Saitama was doing anything untoward.
Two hours later, once again, Saitama was back with rumpled clothing and the scent of a recent washing. Genos said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Next Thursday Genos followed him. Saitama had noticed a change in Genos’ demeanor the past week, but Genos deflected any questions. If it was truly paranoia on Genos’ part he didn’t want Saitama to know. And if it wasn’t…
Genos couldn’t complete the thought.
At first it looked like Saitama was just going on a walk, like he’d said last week. He passed through the park, along the river, through the shopping district. Then he took a left down a road that led to more industrial areas, office buildings and the hospital and high-rise apartments, and the paranoia kicked in.
Why would Saitama be here? There was no shopping, only a few mediocre restaurants and coffee shops for the office workers. There was nothing to draw him… unless he knew someone who lived here.
Genos’ nonexistent stomach clenched every time Saitama walked by an apartment building. It relaxed momentarily when Saitama turned up a walkway that wasn’t any of them, and then sunk into his shoes when Genos realized what it was. Saitama was walking into the hospital.
Genos almost didn’t follow. He felt horrible about the conclusions he’d been jumping to, especially now that the evidence indicated Saitama was sick… But that was why Genos had to follow. If he didn’t find out why Saitama was here immediately the worry would eat him alive.
Saitama didn’t go into the emergency room entrance, or the smaller one to the side where clinics were run, instead he kept walking into a garden area, waved at an orderly, and walked through doors decorated with rainbow decals and cartoon stickers. A quick check of the signage confirmed it was a children’s ward.
Now Genos was very confused indeed. If Saitama was visiting children in the hospital that was a good thing! Very admirable! Why would he hide it?
Determined to get answers, Genos followed him inside.
A nurse in scrubs printed with smile faces greeted him. “How can I help yyyyyyou’re Demon Cyborg.”
“Yes,” Genos said. “Is it okay that I’m here?” Without shame, he added, “I followed Saitama.”
“That’s fine! The kids will be thrilled. I just need you to sign some things and wash up, okay?”
“Yes.”
The paperwork took a few minutes, the nurses seemed pleased Genos took the time to read everything, and though he washed his arms thoroughly they agreed it would be better for him to wear gloves just in case something was caught in his joint. So, with purple latex pulled over his hands, Genos joined Saitama in the common room of the children’s wing of the hospital.
“And then it’s like PSHAAA!” a child spread his arms in a wide arc. “And everything goes FOOM!”
“Oh?” Saitama said. He had a picture book on his lap, and several children were seated around him on the rug or plastic chairs.
“And then he falls down except he’s already cooked into sausage!”
“Wow!” Saitama looked up, apparently unsurprised to see Genos. “Hey, you made it for story time.”
Genos sat, in polite seiza, next to a small child with no hair who stared at him in awe.
“We’re reading the Three Little Pigs,” Saitama said. “But Yama-kun wanted to tell us about a cartoon version he saw once.”
“Are there very many explosions in the Three Little Pigs, sensei?”
“More than you’d think.”
Saitama finished reading the story, which the kids loved, then he played video games with some of the older ones while Genos patiently answered questions about everything from the construction of his arms to his favorite type of candy. They were less annoying when they came from children who were genuinely concerned about the merits of different sweets, than from fan magazines that just wanted to enable teenage girls to project their fantasies onto him.
After about two hours Saitama stood up, and a second later a nurse came in to gather the children for medicine and dinner. They groaned, and asked Saitama and Genos to stay, but Saitama said they had to go eat their own dinner at home (Genos noticed the older kids exchanging glances at the casual mention of them living together).
After another thorough washing, and Genos noticing his clothes had become incredibly wrinkled from all the small hands tugging at his shirt, they walked back together. Out of the industrial neighborhood, and the shopping district, and along the river. On the bridge, finally away from other pedestrians, Saitama stopped.
“Why did you follow me?”
Genos refused to be shamed. “Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“So you hid it? You lied?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“To be volunteering with children? Why? That’s something to be proud of! If I mention it on the hero sites, maybe-”
“No,” Saitama said quickly. “Don’t. I don’t care if people think I’m a jerk and a cheater, but I don’t want internet assholes targeting those kids.”
Genos frowned. “Do you think they’d go that far?”
“I hope not, but I wouldn’t put it past them. I don’t want to take the risk.” Saitama shrugged. “Besides, I’m doing it for the kids, not to get attention.”
Genos was quiet for a moment. “If it’s not for attention, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Huh?”
“It’s undeserved, but I am more popular than you, sensei. Is that why you hid it? Because the children would prefer me over you?”
Saitama’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding? Do you think that little of me?”
“It doesn’t make sense, sensei, what am I supposed to think?”
“The hospital asked me to go! The little kids getting chemo like me because I’m bald like them!”
Genos considered that information. “They asked?”
“Yeah! Last month.”
“The Hero Association has a policy against requests for charitable appearances. They believe that sort of thing should be completely voluntary on the part of the heroes.”
Saitama hesitated. “They didn’t… go through the Hero Association.”
“They didn’t?”
“They asked me in person.”
Genos waited.
“When I was there.”
“There? At the hospital?” The fear from two hours ago, when Genos had first watched him turn toward the hospital, returned full force. “Are you- What were you-”
Saitama groaned and buried his face in his hands. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Sensei, if you’re having a medical issue I have a right to know!”
“I’m not! Nothing new, anyway.”
“Wh- Is there something I don’t know about?”
“No!” Saitama sighed heavily and didn’t look up. “I was… trying to sign up to test a new hair loss drug, okay?”
Genos could do nothing but croak, “Oh.”
“And the staff recognized me and asked if I’d say hi to the kids, and I couldn’t go through with it then, could I?”
“The- the children look up to you?”
“Some of ‘em.” Saitama peeked between his fingers. “I think the little ones don’t realize I’m a real person. They have pictures of me next to the Zoomen and Kamen Rider.”
“That… that’s still important, sensei. They see someone who reflects them who is a hero.”
“I know. I mean, I guess. It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Finally, Saitama dropped his hands. “I’m sorry I hid it and lied.”
“It’s okay sensei.”
“It’s not. I could tell you were bothered and I still didn’t tell you.” Saitama pointed at him. “But stalking me is not okay either. We’ve talked about this.”
Genos dropped his head, truly ashamed now. “I’m sorry sensei.”
“I guess we need to practice talking about stuff we’re used to keeping to ourselves, huh?”
Genos nodded. “Sensei, if it really bothers you so much that you lost your hair, why haven’t you gotten a wig? Or implants?”
Saitama winced. “I said practice, not go for the throat.”
“Sorry sensei. Do you want to go home and start dinner?”
“Yeah.” Saitama reached out, and Genos took his hand. “Is amezaiku really your favorite kind of candy?”
“Oh. Yes sensei.”
“How come I didn’t know that?”
“I try not to have favorites, sensei. It’s more practical to eat whatever is available, for energy.”
Saitama squeezed his hand and they began to walk again. “You like it when they make it into little animals and stuff?”
“Yes.” Genos smiled to himself. “I- I like giraffes.”
“Me too! What else?”