Chapter Text
Saitama always wondered whether the world cared for people like him, but these days it wasn’t really that hard to tell; it didn’t give two shits.
He could go around destroying monsters left and right, but nobody would so much as bat an eye because he wasn’t ‘handsome’ or ‘popular’ in the public’s eye. No, he was just some bald twenty five year old man in a bright yellow jumpsuit.
"It’s not like I want all the attention anyway, it’s annoying." Was what Saitama told himself one day while out on patrol, but of course, that was a lie. Or at least, not an entire truth.
Because he didn’t want all the attention. He just wanted to at least be recognised for his work- like come on, even something little would go a long way.
Whether the gratitude came in verbal or written form, it didn’t matter at the end of the day. Because it was a thank you either way, right? Just one would make his day, week- hell, maybe even his month. Was so little really too much to ask for?
Yeah, the sad truth is that it was.
"Damn, why am I thinking about this now?" Saitama murmured to himself, zoning back in and dragging his gaze away from his shoes, a common resting place when he’d get lost in the back of his mind.
Thinking for someone like Saitama was.. Actually pretty rare since the man never really thought for all that long without any prompting to. The only occasion he deemed it necessary being when trying to calculate the date of the next sale.
But, even then, that didn’t require much brain power, any moron could do that. You just needed to be able to know how to read, as most of the time, the date was found somewhere on the flier’s back. Guess his lonesome was really getting to him if he was out here thinking for that long, huh?
"Uh, where am I again?" Instead of the neat paving and winding roads Saitama was accustomed to strolling down during his patrols, he had found himself quite literally in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by large piles of garbage.
The very moment he realised that, was the moment the smell sunk in, something retched and sour; almost metallic on his tongue. “Gross." He mumbled, pinching his nose with gloved hands as he looked around.
Pupils flicking this way and that, the hero took in his surroundings, had he gotten lost or something? He didn’t remember anywhere like this in City Z. But then again he didn’t have the best memory, nor did he venture around all that much without a reason.
That’s when the ground shook, something which.. Wasn’t particularly unusual, they had earthquakes all the time after all. However, that wasn’t what tipped Saitama off that something wasn’t quite right, no, it was that the closer he looked, the more of a shape defined itself among the piles of trash.
First two slender arms appeared, scrap metal and broken cords collectively winding itself around the main body as it’s ascension began. The garbage around the beast being tugged forwards by some invisible force and melding into one singular entity, getting larger and larger and larger until- "Wow, you’re pretty big," Standing five stories high, a strange amalgamation between trash and monster stared down at Saitama.
The hero didn’t move, simply scratched at the side of his face and met the monsters gaze for several long minutes- Or at least where he assumed it’s face would be if it had one; it was hard to tell really.
The staring continued for a long while, each passing second making Saitama feel more and more out of place. Was the monster waiting for him to do something? Or was it just going to stand there?
"Um, I’m not really feeling it today, so is this like a me first sort of thing or..?" Saitama asked in awkward contemplation, blinking up at the creature expectantly. And of course, he didn’t receive an answer. Not a nod, not a growl not a roar, nothing.
All Saitama got was an eyeless staring contest, which was kind of unfair if you though the about it, that monster didn’t even have eyes after all, it was just setting him up for failure! Sure it was a monster, but that didn’t give it the rights to cheat.
"Okay, then I guess I’ll take the first swing? I don’t know man," Shrugging Saitama clenched a gloved hand, raising it up slowly as though trying to prove a point- but still, there was nothing. Was this monster asking for death?
Apparently not, because surprisingly Saitamas fist never made contact with the monster, for the very moment the hero came close enough- The monster simply kneeled down and collapsed with a grotesque splash. The thing had.. melted from the inside?
That was odd, it wasn’t even because of the wind either, usually his punches carried some backlash sure but that didn’t cause something to melt inside out.
Never mind that, the stupid thing got its muck all over Saitama’s uniform, splashing him with it’s nauseating gunk. "I just washed this jackass!" He yelled, trying to scrape the goop off and onto the scrap metal around him.
Normally the man wouldn’t have cared in the slightest, getting covered in monster residue was a normal part of being a hero after all, but it took a lot for Saitama to do housework these days; it just seemed unnecessary long and so painstakingly boring. Just another chore to add to the pile. And boy did Saitama have a lot of chores to get through.
"That was weird." Was all the hero mumbled as he weaved around the monster, following the smell of something burning, maybe it had something to do with the monster collapsing like that?
To be honest he didn’t really care all that much, but he couldn’t allow a fire to start, not when there were so many flammable objects nearby.
Not really paying much attention to his surroundings as he searched (still fruitlessly trying to scrape off a stain from his cape), he paused upon hearing a loud thud, echoing from beneath his feet, metallic but from the way the substance moved it was.. soft?
Cape being released from his grip, Saitama’s eyes dropped instead onto what he was perched upon, only to meet two more staring up at him. They were narrowed slightly from beneath his boot, golden and unwavering among a black canvas. That wasn’t normal right? Maybe they had an infection or something.
Ignoring that thought, Saitama could hear the murmur of something indecipherable and leant in closer, “I can’t hear you, speak up dude." In response, the man glared up at Saitama, an accusatory look on his face.
"Oh, yeah," Realizing he had yet to get off- whoever that was, Saitama quickly stepped down and off his face, watching as the other’s expression relaxed slightly. "Sorry about that."
Ignoring his apology the man slowly sat up, a strange clicking sound following his movements, faint but still there. Even then, instead of standing up, the stranger remained seated, clenching and unclenching his hands with a focused expression, inquisitive in the way his pupils glinted.
"Who are you?" Tearing his gaze away from his hands, the man spoke up, voice level and almost robotic in a sense, which when Saitama took a closer look made sense; he didn’t exactly look human.
"Me? Well I’m just a guy who’s a hero for fun." At that the other squinted up at Saitama, analyzing the way he slouched, unprofessional and lazy before shaking his head, an accusatory look on their face.
"You do not seem like a hero, explain yourself and prove that you are not telling lies." The cyborg demanded, frowning as he store Saitama down. It probably would have been intimidating for anyone else if they weren’t sitting in garbage.
"I don’t have to prove anything," The elder man denied, his brows furrowing slightly. "Who are you anyway?"
"I am Demon Cyborg, better known as one of the top Class S heros.” The newly learnt ‘Demon Cyborg’ straightened up as he spoke, and only then did Saitama realise that this man- this cyborg, was the cause of the smoke. Guess there was no need to investigate after all. “Now demonstrate your strength, as you said you would."
"I didn’t say-" Saitama protested, his voice raising in tone before he allowed it to fall flat again.
Running a hand through his non-existent hair, Saitama felt the cyborg’s eyes piercing into him, digging deep for something not quite there. “What is with the headgear? Does it enhance your strength?”
“Headgear?” Saitama asked, looking up expectantly, before realizing what the cyborg meant and feeling himself physically sag. "There’s nothing there dude."
And before the hero could say anything else on the matter, Saitama began trudging away, internally berating the other man. So what if he was bald, that didn’t mean anything, right? It was perfectly normal! Just- not at his age was all.
Only, his steps soon fell short, as with a loud crash and several smaller thuds, a set of metallic digits wrapped itself around Saitama’s ankles.
The added weight didn’t do much of anything to halt his steps as first intended, but the sound of metal scraping against the hard Earth was what made Saitama stop.
“Um, what’re you doing?” He questioned, turning the upper half of his body to face the younger.
The blond wasn’t looking at him, but instead to his side, eyes narrowed and gleaming with a burning intensity and Saitama couldn’t help but think, how long had it been since he last looked at something in such a way?
“Threat located, duck down for your own safety." Free hand lifting up, the circle in his palm flickered to life, sparking momentarily before shooting forth a large burst of flames: the heat of which very nearly caught the rim of Saitamas cape, much to the hero’s displeasure.
“Hey what was-“ Being interrupted once more, this time by a loud squawk as a flurry of feathers darted pass the two, three times the size of the average man and six times as long. It’s tail appeared to faintly steam, but otherwise the bird was unharmed.
“I’ll take care of it, leave this to me," Demon Cyborg insisted, finally clambering onto his own two feet as he once again took aim. The cyborg stood to the side slightly, clearing space for Saitama, who simply stood there watching as the bird monster flew towards them with a shrill cry.
“Taking aim in: three, two, one.” An explosion bursted to life once more, Demon Cyborg being pushed back slightly by the force of which, his heels digging unsteadily into the hard floor and leaving hollowed tracks behind.
It seemed as though he wasn’t quite used to his own power yet, despite the way the cyborg readied into the action, something that in hindsight may have been what lead to his downfall. That, and his sense of pride.
For, instead of being set ablaze, the bird ducked last minute and soared through the fire, it’s body being set alight and bursting into flames. However, it merely sung throughout the burn, a snide tune evident in the way it twirled, weaving among towers of scrap metal.
“Cool, so it’s like one of those fire bird things.” Saitama proclaimed, watching from the corner of his eye at the way the cyborg scowled up at the beast, said monster chirping a spiteful song in turn, taunting the younger’s idiocies.
“Phoenix, you’re referring to a Phoenix.” And although his tone was level, it was evident from the way his jaw clenched and unclenched that he was quickly losing patience, something which wasn’t helped when the monster began preening it’s feathers. It was disregarding him entirely, certain the Demon Cyborg couldn’t win.
Saitama simply watched this back and forth with vague interest, while the younger flared up, less then happy over this unspoken declaration.
Not that he had a chance to say anything on the matter, because the bird swooped forwards once more, claws poised to tear through the cyborg’s arm; something extended, palms alight towards the monster. Was Genos hoping to out brawn the beast?
Well, Saitama would never know, because in an instant both hero’s were splashed in red. The feeling was warm in a sense, but definitely not welcome, in spite of how familiar the substance was.
The blond’s eyes widened, almost audibly so as they darted from place to place, flicking to each and every feather that drifted loftily towards them, sinking into the crimson mess.
And yet, no matter how hard the cyborg searched, no bird was to be found. Had it disappeared? Gotten injured and flew away? For a split second, he had believed it, that was until his sensors picked up on something else.
From the very moment the bird charged at them, the Demon Cyborg had felt it building up. A feeling of overwhelm, of warmth and safety, of protection and carelessness, exponentially greater then any feeling he could recall. And why? Because of the great power radiating from a singular entity; the dull faced man to his side.
“That was lame.” The elder sighed, stuffing gloved hands into his pockets before taking his leave once more, a wide eyed cyborg being left in his wake.
Frantically checking through his systems, replaying what had just happened to clarify whether this wasn’t just a false hunch. Did that- Did he seriously just take down that monster? And with one punch? That couldn’t be possible, surely, maybe he misinterpreted something?
But no, as golden flecks debated over the shorter’s retreating back, the mess of feathers, and the trail of gore, Genos came to the conclusion that there was no longer anything to misinterpret.
That man had really just taken down that monster in a singular hit. Made it explode into smithereens.
“What is your name?” Genos called out upon finding his voice, arms stiff and back straightened, an attempt to assert some form of high-ground over this.. Yeah, this hero.
He watched Saitama pause for a moment, the other rubbing the backs of his neck before turning around and staring at the teen dumbly.
“My name?” They appeared to consider the question for a short while before shrugging. “It’s Saitama.” They both paused, allowing one another a chance to speak, expectant in the way they both held their ground.
Saitama was the one who broke eye contact first, turning back around with a lazy wave over his shoulder. “Bye.”
It took the blond a couple moments to shake himself out of internal contemplation before replying back, his brain so busy in analysing his encounter with Saitama that he subconsciously waved back, something he would surely contemplate a long while later. “See you soon.”
Now when Saitama has first heard those words, he thought nothing of it, but now that he was laying down his futon did he realise how strange they felt. ‘See you soon?’ Yeah, totally not weird at all coming from some guy he just met, and in a scrapyard no less.
With a sigh, Saitama shook his head, relaxing into his bedding. The dude was probably just some wannabe hero, yeah, must of been.. Wait, didn’t he say he was an S Class hero or something like that? What was an S Class again? It was a type of.. soft drink right? Those were Saitamas last thoughts before drifting off to sleep, too heavy to keep himself awake and too stupid to think.
The creaking of floorboards as a hoover brushed against them was what awoke Saitama the next morning, grumbling to himself as he lazily flipped onto his side.
The sun was already up, judging by the gentle heat painting his skin and escaping from between scrunched up eyelids. “S’ too early.. Mind keeping it down a little?" Saitama grumbled, burying his face into his arms in an attempt to block out the excess noise, one half of him awake and the other in the greatest battle he’d yet to encounter.
“Yes sir." Now, at first, Saitama couldn’t tell what was wrong with this response, he merely rolled over once more and grunted noncommittally, seemed good enough for him.
I mean, why should he have a problem with it? The hoover had muffled into nothing more than white noise and the thuds dumbed down into hesitant creaking, perfect for lulling Saitama back into his dreams.
Only thing was; Saitama lived alone.
Tensing for a moment, Saitama slowly sat up, brows pinched together as he rubbed at his eyes. “Sir?” He repeated, that was weird, why would a monster call him that-
The hoover died down all of a sudden, and when Saitama finally drew open his eyes, he was met with two honey colored orbs staring right back at him. “What is it?”
“Huh,” It took the hero a moment to respond, blinking slowly before properly taking in his surroundings. Oh it was just the dude from yesterday, what was his name again? Lemon Tide Pod? Daren Surfboard? Dillon Cork Board? No that didn’t sound right, it was um- yeah! Demon Cyborg.
One blink, two blinks and then finally-
“What’re you doing in my house?!” His name didn’t matter, how did he get in? He better not have broken in, sure rent was cheap but he was in no way willing to pay for repairs. He was already broke enough to begin with!
“You left your window open, so I decided that would be the best course of action,” The cyborg stated, pointing towards the window in the kitchen. How did he manage to fit through that?! “Despite your hero status, it’s unsafe to leave open your window, especially when such an area is known for it’s monsters.”
So first this man pestered him about his strength, then he found out where he lived, broke into his house while he was sleeping- and now he was lecturing Saitama on safety? “Why are you here? Get lost already!”
Ignoring this, the blond moved away from Saitama and stood up, placing the vacuum back where he originally found it in the corner of the room. Had- had he been cleaning while Saitama was sleeping?
Looking around, it did feel kind of different actually. First thing he noticed the old dishes were gone, everything including his manga had been reorganized and hell- even the air smelt cleaner! Like cheap air freshener and fabric softener, which was actually rather strange; not because it smelt bad or anything, but because he was almost certain he had ran out of both those things.
“I am here to collect data on your strength. I’ve never heard of a hero named ‘Saitama’ and yet you managed to defeat a Demon level threat with a singular punch.” The taller lectured, now rummaging through Saitamas fridge like he owned the place.
“That’s because Saitama isn’t my hero name,” Leaning into his hand as he watched the other work, Saitama had half a mind to kick him out then and there, but considering he had cleaned for him already it probably wouldn’t be so bad to at least hear out what he has to say. Maybe.
“It’s..” Sighing, Saitama grimaced at the recollection of his hero name, he should have known it would be something stupid what with all the other heroes’ and all, but that didn’t make him feel any better. “Caped Baldy.”
Instead of snickering, as he so often heard when being referred to, the other hero merely nodded before shutting the fridge with a thud and spinning to face Saitama, staring him down in silent contemplation.
“Caped Baldy?” Eyes glazing over for a moment, gaze resting atop Saitama’s head- who of course ducked out of his line of sight in return. However, it wasn’t until several heartbeats later the other followed his movements.
“The C Class hero, it is said you registered two weeks ago with a score of 71 on the exam,” He looked to Saitama for a moment, almost seeking confirmation before continuing on. “Then I shall reintroduce myself, my name is Genos, disciple of Class S hero: Metal Knight.”
“Cool, but I didn’t ask-“
Yet again he was cut short as Genos scowled at Saitama, though at this point it seemed more like his resting face. “I introduced myself as a hero unaware of your strength, and now that you know of my real name, you owe me a display of your true abilities.”
“Dude I didn’t-“
“By revealing my true name I have made you somewhat similar to an equal, don’t make me regret giving you that title as I will make you pay for it accordingly for allowing me to disappoint my master. The only way you can prove you are worthy of that knowledge is by challenging me to a fight and winning, though I doubt you’ll be able to due to my training and mechanical enhancements. Yet from doing so I will be able to accurately asses your abi-“
“Shut it already jackass! And stop interrupting me damn it.” Saitama yelled, slamming his hands against the floor with a loud crack. “All I need is a simple explanation, max twenty words or less, got it?”
He didn’t receive a response for several moments, during which Genos observed Saitama, pupils flicking from place to place as they gathered data and only slightly weirding Saitama out in the process.
“I gave you my name, now give me a fight,” The blond’s expression darkened for a moment, as though internally contemplating something before his face fell lax, only to leave behind an indifferent glare. “That was exactly ten words.”
Slouching slightly, Saitama sighed, peeling the cover of his futon off and slowly clambering to his feet. Any previous irritation he may have had burnt away in an instant, it was just too early for this.
“I’m hungry, maybe later,” Scratching at the back of his neck, Saitama ducked into his kitchen, watching as the blond’s face turned sour from the corner of his eye. “What? I can’t skip breakfast, it’s like.. The most important meal of the day. Or something.”
Genos simply gave Saitama a once over and watched as he rummaged through the kitchen, back turned and open for attack. That wasn’t exactly the smartest move, right? He didn’t even know Genos, what if he was waiting for a chance to strike or something? And before you ask, yes, that was exactly what he was waiting for.
The tips of metal fingers gave way for a thin needle, and as he saw the shine of bare scalp reflect off it’s surface, the cyborg couldn’t help but wonder; was there really anything special about someone like Saitama?
Certainly, he’d demonstrated his strength, destroying an above average monster with a singular hit, it was unbelievable! Which also meant, until Genos could gather enough evidence on the man, he wouldn’t believe it, there were just too many plot holes to leave unexplored after all.
It was time to take matters into his own hands, that’s what Metal Knight taught him at least. And in this case, Genos was taking that advice quite literally.
So as he bit his faux tongue, Genos edged closer and closer, the tip of the needle barely ghosting over the back of Saitamas neck, so close to finding out the truth. That was until- “Man, all the good stuff’s gone. I guess I’ll have to go out later.”
With the sudden turn of Saitama’s head, the needle caught against his skin and..
It snapped clean in half. Dropping to the floor and rolling to press against Saitama’s ankle the broken half lay there, it seems he had been caught red handed.
And of course, from then on, silence followed. There always seemed to be an awkward pause littered somewhere in their limited conversations, but now definitely seemed like the most painful.
“Dude, did..” Another one of those treacherous pauses. “Did you just try to stab me?”