Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Saitama had wanted to be a hero.

It takes a mutated crab monster, a kid with a really big chin and his childhood love of anime heroes for him to realize what he needed to do.

For three years he trains non-stop. Every day, no matter the weather and no matter how he felt, he trained. He trains until he’s strong enough to defeat any monster with a single punch.

(He also loses all his hair at the age of twenty-four but he tries not to think about it nor let anyone bring it up.)

It’s only when he become the strong hero he’s always wanted to be, to realize that being a hero for hobby was not a viable job in today’s society. After all, he still had bills to pay and being a hero doesn’t really earn him anything but some heart-felt words of gratitude and an increasing number of lectures from his landlord telling him to pay his rent and utility bills.

Somehow, in one way or another and through random chance and luck, he ends up applying for a job as a kindergarten teacher.

Teachers were a hero in their own way, weren’t they? He could still be a hero, Saitama reasons with himself, just not in the way he had expected to be one.

Four years after defeating the crab monster and unearthing his burning desire to become a hero, three years after training so hard he lost all his hair and became stronger than anyone, Saitama goes in for his interview at Hero Kindergarten.

When he’s hired as a kindergarten teacher for Hero Kindergarten—and beyond wondering about the weirdness of the kindergarten’s name and how he even managed to get the job when he had zero experience with children and didn’t even have a degree in teaching—the first thing he does is breathe a sigh of relief because now he’ll be able to pay rent. His second reaction, once he sees his salary, is to freak out.

“What’s with this ludicrous amount of cash?” he splutters while talking to his coworker, Silver Fang (who insists on being called that because it’s his “Hero Name”, whatever that means). “Are kindergarten teachers supposed to earn this much bank? When did salaries for teachers go up?”

Silver Fang chortles. “No, it’s just Hero Kindergarten. You see, the children we take in are—how do I say this?—much more difficult to rear than normal children so the teachers here are compensated accordingly.”

Saitama raises an eyebrow. “We’re getting paid nearly half a million a year to take care of brattier than normal children?”

Silver Fang guffaws. “If our job was really that easy, everyone would be vying to be a teacher at Hero Kindergarten.”

Silver Fang refuses to say anymore, insisting that Saitama will understand when he starts taking care of his first class. He also refuses to answer when Saitama asks if physical exams were a normal part of teacher interviews.

And so, Saitama’s life as a kindergarten teacher begins.

One good thing about working at Hero Kindergarten is that Saitama never found his days boring.

Saitama would even say he enjoyed his job—if he didn’t have to worry about fixing the classroom all the damn time.

And if Saitama wasn’t so busy trying to stop Sonic from invading his classroom (“For god’s sake, you don’t even go here!”) to throw exploding shuriken at him (“Fight me, Saitama!” he cackles, his tiny five-year-old body bouncing in a blur of black around the classroom) and holding Genos back from lunging at the self-proclaimed ninja (“He is disrupting my time with Teacher,” Genos declares, his yellow eyes glowing—literally—with an unholy light. “I will incinerate him.”) while chasing after Sonic until he manages to grab him by his scarf and drag him out the building (“I’ll have my revenge Saitama!” Sonic wails, even as big fat tears begin rolling down his face and looks five seconds away from dissolving into a crying fit) and doing damage control with the rest of his students (“King, you can get out of the desk now. How did you even manage to fit in there? No Fubuki, you’re not allowed to use your telekinetic powers put those rocks back outside. Mumen that wasn’t a villain, just a rowdy kid. Wait, what Villain Kindergarten?”), he would have realized that it really was not normal for a teacher to be more concerned about whether the classroom walls would hold for the rest of the day or if it would just be safer to hold class outside.

After kicking Sonic out and deciding that yes, the walls hadn’t sustained too much damage and would hold for the rest of the day so long as no more damage was done to them, Saitama begins morning class.

First is math lessons where if a hero is faced against two villains and he defeats one, how many villains were left?

“None,” Fubuki proudly proclaims, her arms crossed against her chest. “Because I would take them both out with a single attack.”

“If Teacher was the hero, he would have defeated all the villains there and then all the villains who came for back-up,” Genos answers, beaming up at Saitama.

“One villain,” Mumen announces. “And although it would be difficult, I would try and defeat the second one too.”

“….One?” King guesses, holding one finger up, unsure but hopeful.

“Correct,” Saitama says and places a smiley face sticker on King and Mumen’s shirts.

Mumen and King smile but King quickly stops smiling when he sees the absolutely burning look Genos is giving him. Even Fubuki is giving him a bit of a stink eye.

Saitama sighs as he notices King wilt and begin to shrink on himself. “We’re going to do a worksheet after lessons and whoever gets a perfect score will get two stickers.”

That gets Genos’ attention and he’s suddenly hyper-focused on lessons, even more than before. At least King’s stopped shaking because Genos was no longer glaring at him, so Saitama considers that a victory in keeping the peace. 

Genos finishes the worksheet in record time and manages to beat Fubuki in handing in his worksheet by a single second but with the triumphant way he smiles at Fubuki it’s like he’s won gold in the Olympics and Fubuki’s been stuck in last place.

Saitama lets it slide (he’s gotten used to it) and pulls out his favorite pen to start looking over the papers.

Genos gets them all correct and, as promised, Saitama puts two smiley face stickers on his worksheet and a “Great job!” at the top. Genos looks so happy when Saitama gives him his worksheet back, he’s almost convinced Genos’ skin is going to start glowing (Saitama wouldn’t put it past him—the number of upgrades the cyborg child could get seemed limitless).

Fubuki gets almost all of them correct except for the last one so Saitama only gives her one smiley face sticker. The devastation on her small face, however, has him patting her on the head and giving her a snowflake sticker in compensation.

“Keep on trying,” he encourages. “You’re almost there.”

Fubuki manages a watery smile. “Okay.”

As Fubuki walks back to her desk to get ready for drawing time, something bumps into his leg. “Saitama.”

Saitama sighs, turns his head. “It’s Mr. Saitama, Boros. I’ve told you a hundred times to call me that already. I’m your teacher.”

Foreign student Boros (from where, no one seems to know exactly just that it’s very, very far away) stares blankly at Saitama in return.

He holds his paper up towards Saitama’s face. “My turn Saitama.”

“Call me Mr. Saitama,” Saitama insists.

“Saitama,” Boros repeats.

“At least teacher,” Saitama wheedles.

“Saitama.” Boros is unmoving and holds his paper higher, closer to Saitama’s face. “Grade mine.”

Saitama relents and takes the paper—he’ll try again tomorrow. 

Drawing time begins peacefully enough.

King and Mumen, being the most well-behaved, keep to themselves and draw at their own table. Saitama only manages to check up on them once before Genos latches onto his leg and all but refuses to let go until Saitama goes over to join him at his table. Genos practically glues himself to Saitama’s side as he shows his beloved Teacher all the drawings he’s done.

“How did you manage to draw all of this in five minutes?” Saitama wonders out loud as Genos flips through his tenth picture in his series of “Teacher and I” drawings.

“I asked Doctor for an upgrade,” Genos happily tells him.

Saitama refrains from asking what kind of upgrade and just pats Genos on the head and praises his drawing skills. Genos would be content to spend the rest of the day sitting next to Teacher and showing Teacher his drawings and talking to Teacher but Fubuki uses her powers to splash paint over his papers so it’s only fair he fires his hand lasers at her, isn’t it?

In the midst of breaking apart Fubuki and Genos, Boros manages to clamber up Saitama’s back and sticks there like a sloth on a branch, demanding a piggy back ride.

“You’re supposed to be drawing,” Saitama reminds him.

“No.” Boros stares at him with unblinking eyes (actually, did he even have eyelids? He may be foreign but he was still human, right?). “Piggyback, Saitama.”

“It’s Mr—“

Boom!

“Genos!” Saitama yells, running forward, Boros bouncing against his back. “Are you okay?”

Fubuki sniffs, brushing dirt off her sleeves. “He blew himself up. Stupid cyborg.”

Saitama notices the medium-sized rock jammed in Genos’ palm, stopping him from firing off his laser.  “Fubuki, I thought I told you not to bring stuff from the outside into class,” he scolds.

Fubuki slumps a little. “He started it,” she mumbles.

“Liar.” Genos, despite his arm looking like a charred, smoking lump of blackened metal, glares at Fubuki with the ferocity of someone willing to go another two rounds in a fight. “You were the one who threw the paint because you were jealous Teacher wasn’t paying attention to you.”

Fubuki bristles. “I’m not jealous!” she angrily yells.

Wooden blocks from the play area, backpacks and lunch bags in the cubby area and even the windows begin to rattle as Fubuki is outlined by a blue glow.

“Incinerate,” Genos declares, his undamaged arm beginning to light up.

“Mr. Saitama, King says he’s so afraid he’s going to pee his pants if he doesn’t leave now,” Mumen loudly proclaims, raising his hand. “May he be excused?”

“Why’d you have to say that out loud?” King whines.

“It’s a hero’s duty to look out for others,” Mumen explains.

Amongst the chaos, Boros falls asleep on Saitama’s back and doesn’t wake up until Genos notices and proceeds to tackle him off and another fight ensues.

Saitama finds it in himself to be grateful that at least the walls stayed intact long enough for them to have nap time.

In his training seminars, the Technology Head of the Hero Education Board Metal Knight (again, a “Hero Name”) had boasted the efficiency of his clean-up robots.

“In less than a day, any building—no matter how destroyed beyond repair it appears—can be restored to it’s perfect form by my robots,” he proclaimed.

Saitama hadn’t been paying attention, of course, but he had learned of the efficiency of the robots first hand when he dealt with his students’ first fight (Sonic had invaded the classroom, Genos intercepted and Saitama had been in the bathroom) destroying the classroom.

Metal Knight did not lie about his robots but to be more efficient, he only released his robots to perform damage control after class for all levels of Hero Education schools had been dismissed.

That left Saitama with at least another hour without a classroom.

So class outside, it was.

“How long have you been in that tree?”

Self-proclaimed (or so Saitama believes) ninja “Speed of Sound” Sonic jumps nearly a foot off the branch he had been perched on.

“Saitama!” Sonic moves into battle stance. “Prepare to die!”

“You’ve been there all day, haven’t you?” guesses Saitama

“Prepare to die!” Sonic screams and jumps down towards him, sword aimed at Saitama’s throat.

Saitama easily catches him in mid-air and plucks the sword out of Sonic’s hand, tossing it further out in the yard while making a note to pick it up later and have it locked away in the Hero Kindergarten storage room (why a kindergarten even had a triple layer iron safe for storing weapons Saitama didn’t know but then again this was Hero Kindergarten they were talking about). He ignores Sonic’s thrashing and verbally yelled threats—like any good teacher, the best thing to do when a student was throwing a tantrum was to keep them restrained until they had worn themselves out.

It takes a little less than five minutes before Sonic finally runs out of death threats (for a five-year-old, he sure was creative with his words—Saitama would have never thought of using saran wrap in that way) and steam so that he’s reduced to a small pile of black fabric and sulk in Saitama’s arms.

Sonic levels Saitama with a piercing gaze. “You may have defeated me today Saitama, but next time—“

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Saitama interjects. “You are supposed to be in class, aren’t you? Which kindergarten do you go to?”

Sonic glowers. “I will defeat you.”

Saitama sighs. “Well since you’re here you might as well join us for story time. There’s only an hour before class lets out—it wouldn’t make sense to make you go back now.”

Sonic sneers. “Hmph, story time. What a stupid—“

“We have snacks,” Saitama adds.

Sonic pauses.

Then—

“Do you have cookies?”

One picnic blanket, a round of cookies and juice and a surprisingly furious ten minute argument between King and Sonic later, Saitama and his students (plus Sonic), have all comfortably settled themselves on the blanket around Saitama as he breaks open The Princess and the Pea.

Genos has attached himself firmly and tightly to his right side, his tiny cyborg hands clinging to the fabric of Saitama’s apron and shirt sleeve. Fubuki has claimed his left side and while she does not grip his clothes like Genos, she does nestle herself in the space between Saitama’s arm and his side so she can see the book’s pictures. King and Mumen sit across from Saitama, sipping on their juice and nibbling on their cookies. Sonic perches himself on Saitama’s shoulders, lording over the other children as he peers at them over the bald crest of Saitama’s head and Genos would have incinerated him if Saitama hadn’t already threatened to put him at the farthest corner of the blanket if he tried that. Boros has reclaimed his position against Saitama’s back, his tiny hands clasped tight in the fabric as he nods off, enjoying the heat that continuously radiates off their teacher’s back.

A fresh breeze blows through the front yard of Hero Kindergarten, rustling the grass and leaves and upturning the edges of the picnic blanket Saitama’s class resides on. The wind carries Saitama’s voice upwards as he recounts the tale of a prince searching for his perfect princess and the voice of his students as they repeat lines with him.

The sky is clear: pale and pretty blue that speaks of a perfect afternoon to be spent outside, a breathtaking sunset and a beautiful evening sky to look up to on the way home.

“All in all, it’s been a good day,” Saitama says out loud, a grocery bag in one hand as he slowly treks home. 

The next day, Sonic’s back again. Only this time, he’s officially a student at Hero Kindergarten.

“Be prepared Saitama,” Sonic declares, pointing a finger up at Saitama. “The moment you let your guard down, it will be my victory!”

“Teacher,” Genos slowly begins, his chest and arms beginning to glow a faint orange and steam rises from his body. “I will erase him.”

“No fighting,” Saitama says, pulling Genos back just as he lunges for Sonic. “We have arts and crafts today. Sonic, go put your stuff in the cubbies.”

In between Fubuki pelting macaroni pieces at Boros after he attaches himself to Saitama’s back again and Boros throwing the pieces back, preventing the whole classroom from being set ablaze and deflecting shuriken from hitting King’s cowering form and Mumen when he attempts to shield King with his own body, arts and crafts time passes with a lot less arts and crafts and a lot more scorch marks on the walls and shuriken and kunai buried in the ceiling.

At least the walls were still intact.

Chapter Text

Cabbage was on sale at the supermarket so Saitama makes sure to buy at least two heads and—because he feels a bit like splurging—buys two bags of the hard candy his students love so much (even if Fubuki will never admit it).

He’s on his way home when he spots Mumen riding his tricycle.

Mumen doesn’t notice him and Saitama would have walked on without saying a word if Mumen hadn’t been heading downtown.

“Hey.” Saitama jogs over to Mumen, who pauses in his pedaling. “Mumen!”

“Mr. Saitama.” Mumen politely smiles, nodding in greeting. “Good evening.”

“Shouldn’t you be heading home right now?” Saitama asks. He’s walked all of his students home at least once for varying reasons (multiple times with Genos and 99% of the time it’s because he refuses to leave Saitama’s side after class lets out) so he knows the general direction where they all live and Mumen definitely doesn’t live downtown where 80% of the city’s crime happens.

Mumen beams, proudly smiling as he puffs up his chest and sits up straighter on his tricycle. “I’m going patrolling, Mr. Saitama.”

Saitama raises an eyebrow. “Patrol?”

“Hero Patrol,” Mumen cheerfully announces. “I’m off to check for crime downtown.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“A hero must always be prepared for danger!”

Saitama sighs because he knows Mumen well enough that it’s near-impossible to sway him from his “hero duties” (as Mumen dubs them). But Mumen is also his student and it’s Saitama’s responsibility as a teacher to ensure his student’s safety, even if he is off-the-clock right now.

“How about I go with you?” Saitama suggests. “Two heroes on duty is always better than one, isn’t it?”

Mumen’s smile brightens. “You would do that Mr. Saitama? You’re a true hero!”

“Well I am a teacher at Hero Kindergarten,” is Saitama’s explanation.

With groceries still in hand, Saitama leisurely follows after Mumen who energetically pedals on his tricycle with the happy knowledge that he has someone to join him on his patrolling.

The next day before class, Mumen hands him a bag of cookies.

“As thanks for yesterday,” Mumen explains with a smile. “It was scary, even if we didn’t face any villains, but Mr. Saitama being there with me made it less scary!”

Saitama doesn’t mention that the reason they didn’t encounter any crime was because Saitama swiftly and discreetly defeated any shady character that had come their way while Mumen wasn’t looking.

Instead, he accepts the cookies and has Mumen promise him not to go on hero patrol unless Saitama came with him.

“So you can learn from other heroes how they defeat villains,” explains Saitama.

Mumen nods. “Okay, Mr. Saitama. Can we go for hero patrol again today?”

Saitama shrugs. “Sure, but I’m taking you back home before dinner.”

Before Mumen can go into anymore plans about how he wants to go about their hero patrol for today, Genos arrives and Sonic flies through the window (Saitama thinks it must be a force of habit from breaking into the school so many times) at the same time. Genos’ lasers are charged the second he sees Sonic, his pupils glowing and Sonic wears a grin fit for a serial killer (you’d think that wouldn’t be possible on a five-year-old but none of Saitama’s kids are normal and he’s so used to dealing with the impossible on a daily basis he doesn’t even blink at this kind of stuff anymore) as he pulls out his sword from the sheath on his back (how many blades did that kid have? Saitama’s starting to lose track of the number of swords he’s confiscated from Sonic already).

And so, another day at Hero Kindergarten begins.

It’s nothing short of a miracle that Mumen manages to pull Saitama over to his table during arts and crafts time without being stopped by Genos.

Fortunately, Genos was completely engrossed in his own project at the moment, his fighting spirit fueled by Fubuki’s goading words at the beginning of arts and crafts when she claimed she was going to make the best art piece in their class and impress Saitama with it. Anything related to getting Saitama’s attention was a challenge to Genos so he dives into his work, a cyborg possessed and hasn’t looked up from his table since arts and crafts time began and did he just create a miniature flamethrower with his palm? Why was he pointing it towards his paper?!

“Mr. Saitama.” Mumen holds up a crudely drawn crayon map in front of Saitama. “This is the route we’re going to take tonight during our patrol.”

As Mumen begins to explain his map, adding in landmarks and street names, Saitama finds himself becoming more and more impressed with the details and focus Mumen puts in his planning.

“You’re really into this,” Saitama observes.

Mumen beams. “Because I want to be a hero!”

He had wanted to be a hero.

Saitama smiles, small and barely visible but somehow it reaches his eyes and makes the lines and features of his face more defined, easier to see.

He pats Mumen on the hand. “Do your best.”

Nap time finds Saitama in the center of a cuddling pile that he had managed to avoid for the past two weeks. And here he thought he would actually be able to get that dumb paperwork Sweet Mask (again, Hero Names) had dumped on him for being late with last month’s report (and why did Saitama even need to write a report about his kindergarten class in the first place? He was teaching them how to count, not nuclear physics).

Saitama blames Boros for starting it by refusing to get off his back for nap time.

“It’s too cold,” Boros states. “I’ll only be able to sleep if I’m on your back.”

Saitama attempts to compromise. “I’ll get you some more blankets, won’t that work too?”

“No,” Boros shoots him down instantly. “Saitama’s back is warmer than any amount of blankets.”

“I can’t be that warm,” Saitama tells him but Boros is insistent and Saitama eventually compromises by agreeing to lie down with Boros until he falls asleep.

That had been the plan but then Genos overhears and insists that he can’t sleep either unless Saitama lies down with him which leads to Fubuki demanding the same thing and Sonic somehow claiming his spot curled around Saitama’s head and Saitama having to promise King he’d hold his hand until he fell asleep because King was too afraid to sleep next to Saitama even though he really wanted to as well. Mumen happily tells King he’ll sleep next to King during nap time if it would help King sleep better to which King admits that it would.

Nap time rolls around and Boros is fast asleep against his back, Genos has his tiny hands fisted into the front of Saitama’s apron as he snoozes, Fubuki is using his stomach as her pillow, Sonic is curled around his head and King grips his outstretched hand surprisingly tight for a tiny five-year-old taking a nap while Mumen nods off in the cot next to him.

Saitama quietly sighs and decides that he’ll worry about the paperwork later as he closes his eyes and let’s himself be lulled to the sleep by the steady, murmuring breaths of six little children. 

When classes are over for the day, Saitama ends up being too busy managing the chaos that was helping Fubuki put on her scarf while pulling Boros off his back while simultaneously helping King reattach his anime girl keychain on his backpack while also keeping Genos and Sonic at arm’s length from each other, to even notice Mumen standing quietly next to the cubbies until he’s managed to push the other children out to the front entrance to wait for their parents/guardians.

“Did you forget something Mumen?”

Mumen shakes his head. “Just waiting until you’re finished, Mr. Saitama.”

Saitama raises an eyebrow. “Finished?”

“With your work so we can go on hero patrol,” Mumen says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and smiles up at Saitama with a smile so innocent Saitama feels his gut twist.

He had almost forgotten about his promise to patrol with Mumen until just now and he has to hold back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he realizes he’s not going to finish that paperwork by tonight which means Sweet Mask is definitely not going to be happy when he sees him.

Saitama manages a strained smile. “Just give me a second to get changed and then we’ll head out, alright?”

“Okay!”

In the best case scenario, Mumen tires himself out after two hours of “patrolling” the city and Saitama has to carry him and his tricycle home. Nothing happens because Saitama defeats everything before it can get close to Mumen so their patrol is uneventful and peaceful.

Unfortunately, the world does not enjoy fulfilling Saitama’s best case scenarios and, instead, fifteen minutes after they enter the inner city, Saitama loses Mumen.

How the hell does a kid bike so fast on a tricycle, is his first thought.

I’m so fired, is his second before he’s sprinting down the sidewalk leaving a dust of cloud behind him as he frantically looks for a sign of his wayward student.

His ears pick up the sound of a something impacting flesh followed by a pained cry and Saitama flies towards the sound. He finds a fallen Mumen with his tricycle flipped onto its side and a smaller kid with hair spiked in a v-shape towering over him with a grin.

“You call yourself a hero?” he sneers. “Hah! As if a weak hero like you could defeat Garou, the greatest villain ever.”

Mumen grits his teeth and attempts to stand up, even as his whole body shakes. “I-I won’t lose. I’ll fight you, villain!”

Garou’s grin widens and he moves forward, surprisingly smooth, ready to strike. He would have reached Mumen and possibly thrown him into the brick wall of the alley if Saitama hadn’t intervened and plucked him off the ground.

Garou looks confused for a second, unable to comprehend why his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore and why he can’t move his arms like he wants to.

Mumen’s cry of “Mr. Saitama!” helps him focus and he twists his head around to see who had grabbed him.

“You!” he snarls. “Are you a hero too?”

“What are you doing out by yourself?” Saitama asks, completely ignoring Garou’s question. “Did you get separated from your parents?”

Garou’s eyes narrow and he bares his teeth, his tiny legs kicking in the air. “I’m the villain Garou. Now lemme go!”

“Kids shouldn’t be out without supervision,” Saitama tells him, not relenting.

Garou attempts to bite Saitama’s hand. Saitama lightly taps him on the head to make him stop. Unfortunately for Garou, Saitama’s “light” tap has enough strength to knock him right out and he falls limp, becoming putty in Saitama’s arms.

There’s a moment of silence as Saitama stares, uncomprehending, at the unconscious child in his arms before—

“You did it Mr. Saitama!” Mumen cheers. “You defeated the villain!”

Shit, Saitama thinks. I am so fired.

Fortunately, he doesn’t get fired.

Unfortunately, he gains a stalker whose name is Garou and who claims himself to be the strongest villain at Villain Kindergarten.

King is terrified, Mumen is equally terrified but tries his best to hide it, Sonic keeps going into vivid details about how he’ll make Garou into a pincushion, Fubuki keeps bringing in rocks from the outside and levitating them around her whenever Garou is within her sight, Boros clings even tighter to his back and Genos charges up enough lasers and flamethrowers to burn the whole school building down.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Saitama asks Garou for the seventh time that afternoon.

Garou’s been sitting on the ledge of one of the classroom’s windows since story time started and has yet to budge even with Genos, Sonic and Fubuki’s combined glares aimed at him. Saitama first asked him to leave, then tried to bribe him with snacks and now has resorted to guilt-tripping him into going back to Villain Kindergarten.

“Your teacher must be worried about you,” Saitama points out.

Garou sneers.

Genos’ glower darkens and his chest begins to glow a darker orange. “You dare disrespect Teacher…”

“You wanna go, hero?” mocks Garou, beckoning Genos with his pointer finger.

Genos would have gladly leapt across the classroom to burn Garou to cinders if Silver Fang hadn’t decided to make an appearance.

“Saitama-kun, would you happen to have some extra band-aids? Chranko scraped his knee during exercise time and the first-aid kit in my classroom—“ Silver Fang’s words abruptly trial off as he notices the child who was most definitely not part of Saitama’s class sitting at the window. “Garou?”

For the brief second Garou freezes, Saitama notices how pale he becomes before Garou disappears in a burst of air, leaving behind a silent classroom and a frozen Silver Fang.

“Garou used to be one of my students,” Silver Fang confesses during nap time.

Silver Fang had arranged it so both his and Saitama’s classes had overlapping nap times, allowing both teachers to take a break together in the teacher’s lounge. Saitama wants to know exactly what Silver Fang had managed to say to his students so Saitama wasn’t forced to lie down with them today but he has a feeling Silver Fang wouldn’t appreciate him asking that question. He also insists Saitama call him by his actual name, Bang, and Saitama’s a little relieved to know that at least one teacher in the Hero Education Association isn’t utterly attached to their Hero Name (Saitama doesn’t even have one and he’s a little apprehensive about getting one too because he just knows it’s going to have the word bald in it and he already gets enough reminders every day about his baldness thank you very much).

“What’s he doing in Villain Kindergarten then?” Saitama asks, sipping the tea Bang had prepared.

Bang wearily sighs. “I suppose it’s my fault for not being vigilant enough. My other students would always call Garou a villain and treat him as such, no matter how many times I tried to stop them. When he left for Villain Kindergarten, I thought he had finally given into the other children’s words. Although he seems to have left Villain Kindergarten too, if he’s been following you around.”

Bang gives Saitama an imploring look. “I know it’s selfish of me to ask this of you, but could you talk to him Saitama-kun? He seems to be rather attached to you so I think he might listen.”

“What? Me?” Saitama frowns. “All he does is crash into my classroom during lessons and pick fights with my kids. He’s like Sonic, but even worse.”

Bang chuckles. “Isn’t Sonic one of your students now?”

“Well yea, but—“

“Then what’s to say Garou might not end up joining your class too? You managed to get a rebellious child like Sonic come to class—“

“It’s not like he’s changed,” Saitama cuts in. “He’s still trying to fight me or picks fight with Genos. The only thing that’s different is he’s always trying to sit on my shoulders to piss Genos off. I already have Boros refusing to get off my back during lessons and now I’ve got Sonic clambering all over my face and Genos constantly talking about he’s asking Doctor for speed upgrades so he’ll be faster than ‘that stupid ninja’ on top of everything else. You think I’ve got time to deal with another trouble child?!”

Despite how angry Saitama sounds, Bang smiles. He looks more amused than afraid or intimidated by Saitama’s rantings.

“You say all of that Saitama-kun,” goes Bang. “But you haven’t, not once, said anything about quitting.”

Saitama grumbles. “The pay’s good, that’s all.”

He insists that’s all but Bang smiles like he knows a secret Saitama doesn’t and Saitama decides it’s not worth the effort to keep this conversation going.

Especially when Boros comes barging into the lounge, wrapped in six different colored blankets and demanding Saitama to lie down with him because the classroom is too cold and he can’t sleep. He’s followed by an irate Fubuki who tries to snatch her blanket back from Boros, even going so far as to attempt to levitate them out of his arms. Mumen enters, second later, halfway through a lecture about how stealing other people’s blankets was bad and heroes shouldn’t be doing that with King trailing behind him, timidly asking Boros if he could have his limited edition Moe-chan blanket back because he can’t sleep without it. Sonic cackles as he flies over the heads of all the other children to land on top of Saitama’s head, hands smacking Saitama’s nose as he clings to him. Genos brings up the rear of the train of children by coming in, hands ablaze, as he decides that today is the day he finally defeats the dumb ninja who dares to try and monopolize his Teacher.

“I’m counting on you Saitama-kun,” are Bang’s parting words as Saitama herds his students out of the lounge and back into their classroom.

Saitama doesn’t even bother to respond, partly because he has no intentions of dealing with Garou (he should be Bang’s responsibility—he was the one who had been teaching Garou first) and partly because he’s holding Sonic’s new sword in his mouth (again, where was he getting these?!) so Sonic can’t use it and he’s not holding it in his arms because his arms are full of the confiscated blankets and a smugly smiling Genos (negotiation had been involved and Genos promised not to fight with Sonic if Saitama carried him all the way back to their classroom) while the rest of the children walk around him, Sonic and Fubuki glaring up at Genos while Boros manages to burrow himself underneath Saitama’s sweater and begins sleeping there.

How he manages to cling onto Saitama’s back while Saitama’s upright while sleeping is something Saitama doesn’t even bother thinking about.

(It probably has something to do with his foreign nature anyways.)

Saitama had made no promises to Bang about seeking out Garou. He also had no intentions of confronting Garou even if he did find him.

So of course that means he’s going to find Garou on his way home from the grocery store (there was a sale on crabs today), picking a fight with a child with a pompadour whom Saitama vaguely recognizes to be one of the students at Hero Elementary School (it was attached to Hero Kindergarten and they share the courtyard so Saitama sometimes sees the kids there when he has to host class outside because his classroom got destroyed again).

In his attempt to stop the fight from escalating, Saitama plucks Garou up from the ground and watches as Garou stops moving for a moment, dumbly wondering why his feet were in the air instead of on the sidewalk. In a moment of deja-vu, Garou attempts to bite Saitama and Saitama “taps” him on the head to make him stop.

“Wow,” the pompadour kid murmurs in awe as he watches Garou’s unconscious body slump forward in Saitama’s arms. “Ya defeated him with one hit. That’s a real hero for ya.”

Wearily, Saitama wonders if he’ll get fired for knocking the same kid unconscious twice.

It’s late enough at night that Saitama deigns it too late to call anyone else so after making sure the pompadour kid, Badd, makes it home safe, Saitama takes the unconscious Garou home with him.

He sets out the spare futon, hitting it against the floor a couple of times to knock the leftover dust on it off before tucking Garou into the sheets.

Next, he goes to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate. He’s had enough impromptu visits from his students (how they know his address he still doesn’t know but he has a vague feeling it involves Genos hacking Hero Kindergarten’s database) to know the best way to get a kid to listen to you is to bribe them with hot chocolate and sweets.

Garou, when he wakes up, is no exception.

“Kids shouldn’t be going around picking fights with other kids,” Saitama lectures. “That’s how they become bad people.”

Garou sneers at him but the animosity is diminished by the hot chocolate mustache on his face and the cookie crumbs littering the edge of his lips. “I’m better than those bad people. I’m a villain.”

“But didn’t you want to be a hero?” Saitama asks.

“No,” Garou answers, far too quickly.

Liar, Saitama wants to say but refrains.

“Look,” Saitama begins, handing some marshmallows to Garou to put into his drink. “It’s late, you won’t tell me where you live and there’s no way I’m letting you walk home on your own so you might as well just stay the night. Do you need a toothbrush?”

Garou attempts to puff himself up to look more intimidating. “The great villain Garou doesn’t need to brush his teeth.”

Briefly, Saitama considers knocking him unconscious again.

Somehow, Saitama manages to get Garou to wash up and into a futon. Garou keeps glancing towards the door, obviously planning on bolting but Saitama refuses to let him leave until morning.

He compromises by telling Garou he can leave as soon as it’s light out and Saitama won’t stop him and he’s free to do what he wants once he steps out the door but only after it’s light out.

“You can go where you want,” Saitama says towards Garou’s back, thin bits of moonlight barely filtering through his drawn curtains and into the dark room. “But just remember, story time’s always at three pm and there’s always snacks.”

Garou doesn’t say anything, his figure unmoving beneath the blankets.

Saitama turns the other way, his back facing Garou as he makes himself comfortable in his own futon before falling asleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, Garou and the pack of marshmallows he had used for the hot chocolate, are gone.

Saitama spots no sign of Garou on his way to school and in the usual morning pandemonium that was his students arriving for class, can’t be bothered to keep a lookout. However, he does remember to open the window and place the snacks out on the table before beginning story time.

And if he notices the raisin cookies that none of his students like disappear from the table, he doesn’t say a thing but makes a small note on his supplies list to buy more (and some marshmallows too). And if he notices hair shaped like the letter V, hidden within the leaves of the big oak tree outside their classroom window, he pretends he doesn’t but makes sure to speak a little louder, a little slower so even someone sitting among a dozen tree branches can hear him.

There are no more rumors about Garou the villain who picks fight with the children of Hero Kindergarten and Bang tells Saitama that Garou has been removed from the roster at Villain Kindergarten too. No one sees Garou again, no matter how hard they search.

Saitama continues to buy raisin cookies and keeps the window open during story time.

And if the raisin cookies always disappear even though none of his students eat them and there’s always an extra container of juice on the table that’s always gone by the end of story time, well, since no one’s asking questions, what reason does Saitama have to explain anything?

With the whole Garou incident now over (or as taken care of it as it can be), Saitama’s ready to return to his daily routine that involves taking care of too many overly energetic and powerful children on the weekdays and sleeping in on the weekends. He all but forgets about the important paperwork given to him by his superiors—until Sweet Mask arrives.

“No,” goes Saitama and attempts to close the door but Sweet Mask is fast enough to throw his foot out and stop him.

 “Is that any way to talk to your boss?” Sweet Mask admonishes, his legs followed by his head and torso making their way through Saitama’s door. “I came all this way to visit you and you almost slam the door in my face? I should teach you some manners, Saitama.”

Saitama pinches the bridge of his nose. It's Saturday and there’s a big sale at his favorite supermarket today and he is not going to miss it, boss be damned.

“Look, I’ll get the paperwork to you by Monday. For now, I have to—“

Sweet Mask waves a hand. “Those papers are irrelevant now. It was just an excuse to come see you.”

Saitama raises an eyebrow. “What? Irrelevant? Then why—“

“I’m here to make you an offer.” Sweet Mask fixes him with an oddly intense look. “Saitama, how would you like to become a member of the Hero Education Board?”

“I’m already a teacher at Hero Kindergarten…?”

Sweet Mask scoffs. “Teachers are not considered members of the Board, merely affiliates. Being a member of the Hero Education Board means being a representative of all heroes. Only those possessing the beauty of absolute, overwhelming power are allowed to be on it.”

“Okay?” Saitama scratches his chin. “That sounds really nice and I’m flattered, really but—“

Sweet Mask’s expression darkens and his smile grows colder, sharper. “You would refuse an offer to represent one of the most influential organizations of our time? You don’t seem to understand the gravity of this opportunity, Saitama.”

“No seriously, I’m flattered but—“

Again, Sweet Mask cuts him off. “This is an offer most people would kill for Saitama. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say this is something that’s only seen once-in-a-lifetime.” His oddly intense gaze gets even more intense and Saitama starts to notice a rather creepy gleam enter Sweet Mask’s eyes. “Just like you, Saitama. Your strength truly is magnificent, outshining all others around you. I am only trying to help you shine brighter.”

Saitama tries again. “That sounds nice but—“

Sweet Mask doesn't stop. “Your beauty will—“

He snaps. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE. THERE’S A SALE TODAY, DAMN IT!”

(Later, Saitama will wonder how he manages to not get fired after punching his boss skyward and conclude that it’s because Sweet Mask is secretly a masochist.)

Chapter Text

In the end, Saitama doesn’t get off scotch-free for punching his boss.

“I don’t see why you’re so upset, Saitama.”

Saitama sighs, for what feels like the fifth time in an hour, before facing his boss sitting across the table. “It’s not that I’m upset. I just don’t understand why you needed me, of all people, to come to this.”

This being—as Saitama vaguely gestures behind him—at the obviously luxurious banquet hall the two of them are sitting in, surrounded by men and women all dressed in suits and dresses that would have cost Saitama an arm and a leg had he still been working at the convenience store, and then at their personal dining table seated for two filled with food so high class Saitama can’t even remember the names, let alone pronounce them.

“The Hero Board Gala is important for networking,” Sweet Mask points out. “Not only do we have future sponsers here but also the highest ranked members of the Hero Board attending. You’d best pay attention to who’s here, Saitama.”

Saitama pokes at his plate of unnameable food. “I don’t see the point. After all, teachers are just affiliates, aren’t they? Not actual members of the Hero Board.”

“That does not mean you do not have a chance of becoming a member,” insists Sweet Mask.

“Are you still going on about that?” Saitama complains. “I thought I made it pretty clear the last time that I wasn’t interested.”

“Perhaps tonight will change your mind,” Sweet Mask cryptically responds. “And don’t even think about leaving early. As my date, you are only allowed to leave when I leave.”

Saitama’s really starting to regret punching his boss now; the on-sale beef and cabbage were definitely not worth these hours of absolute torture Sweet Mask was making him sit through now.

And Saitama still doesn’t understand why Sweet Mask dragged him to the Hero Board gala in exchange for him keeping silent about Saitama punching him unless he was purposely trying to make Saitama so miserable he wanted to quit (which Saitama wouldn’t anyways, if just to spite his boss). It doesn’t seem that way, however, not with the way Sweet Mask seems to resolutely believe that this gala will convince Saitama to join him on the Hero Board.

At least the food tasted good—even if he still didn’t know what he was eating.

Saitama’s given a brief reprieve from Sweet Mask’s company when a gaggle of prettily dressed girls come over to their table, giggling and blushing as they talk with the most popular member on the Hero Board. The girls don’t even spare Saitama a glance, their eyes immediately glazing over him like he’s an unsightly stain at the table (Saitama’s too busy eating dessert to notice) as they crowd around Sweet Mask.

Several insist on a dance and Sweet Mask agrees, promising that he’ll dance with every one of them.

He disappears with a single “Behave yourself” towards Saitama, gold eyes warning Saitama of the consequences if his date so much as thought of ditching while he was pre-occupied.

Saitama cheerily waves him goodbye, glad to be away from his boss for even a couple of minutes. He’s still going through the dishes on their table (free food was free food, no matter how fancy and pompous it looked) so it’s not like he has nothing to do.

Five minutes later, however, he’s eaten through everything.

‘Damn fancy people and their small portion sizes,’ curses Saitama. ‘Who even uses a dish the size of your head and only fills a part of it? What’s the point of even using a dish that big then?’

Then he remembers the refreshment table and while there’s nothing but tiny glasses of champagne and small finger snacks there it’s better than just sitting at the table doing nothing and being bored out of his mind; he’d at least be able to stretch his legs.

The refreshments table, sadly, only provides him reprieve for about five minutes before he’s bored again.

The champagne glasses are too small so Saitama’s gone through at least three of them at this point and the finger foods turns out to be nothing more than crackers, and not even the good kind. It makes Saitama crave the rice crackers sold at the convenience store down the street from his apartment, the crunchy kind that’s best with hot green tea and what he always ends up snacking on when he comes home from work.

It’s at this point that Saitama is seriously considering ditching Sweet Mask, his boss’ wrath be damned. He’s willing to risk the chance of getting fired if it means getting out of his uncomfortable suit (he hasn’t worn one since he had his job interview at Hero Kindergarten so he’s forgotten how itchy the damn thing was) and dull party.

He’s halfway to the door, with these thoughts in mind, when he spots a familiar, tiny figure sitting against the wall.

“Fubuki?”

What the hell was one of his students doing here? He gets closer and confirms that yes, it is Fubuki who’s crouching down against the wall, dressed just as richly as all the other guests but so tiny Saitama’s half-worried someone’s going to stomp on her.

“Fubuki,” he calls when he’s close enough. “What are you doing here?”

Fubuki visibly startles, eyes growing wide when she sees who it is.

“Mr. Saitama! Why are you here?”

“My boss made me come as his date.” Saitama grimaces at the statement but quickly reverts back to Teacher mode as he crouches down to Fubuki’s eye-level. “What about you? Did someone drag you here as well?”

Fubuki sniffles, wide eyes glistening a little in the light. “My sister.”

Saitama is vaguely aware of the existence of Fubuki’s sister, as Fubuki had off-handedly mentioned her once in a conversation about ESPers, but knew nothing else about her.

“Is your sister on the Hero Board too?”

Fubuki nods. “She’s one of the S-class members.”

‘Oh shit, that’s pretty high up.’

It was even higher up than Saitama’s boss, which meant Fubuki’s sister could very well be Sweet Mask’s boss, which made her Saitama’s grand-boss.

“Fubuki, you haven’t told your sister anything bad about me, have you?”

Fubuki gives him a quizzical look. “No, I haven’t.”

Saitama internally breathes a sigh of relief.

Fubuki’s lips turn downwards and she frowns at her knees. “It’s not like I talk with my sister anyways.”

“What?” Now Saitama’s confused. “But aren’t you guys sisters?”

Fubuki’s lips thin out, a sign that tells Saitama she won’t talk anymore about the subject.

Saitama decides not to pry—it’s not his place, even if Fubuki is one of his students. But both of them are miserable here and while it’s Saitamas own fault for ending up here, Fubuki did nothing to deserve spending a whole night alone in a room full of adults who glance at her like she’s a decoration against the wall.

So Saitama’s going to fix that.

He leans closer to his student, his voice taking on a conspiratory tone. “Hey Fubuki,” he whispers, with a small grin. “Wanna get some rice crackers?”

“Mr. Saitama.” Fubuki points towards the upper shelf where the soft drinks are sitting. “I want the blue one.”

“Which one?” Saitama’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at the row. “They’re all blue.”

Fubuki huffs and a thin blue aura outlines a bottle in the middle. “That one.”

Saitama plucks it from the shelf and hands it to Fubuki who smugly levitates in front of her.

“Don’t drop it now,” he warns as they head down the snacks aisle in the convenience store.

 “I won’t,” Fubuki proudly states. “Cause I’m strong.”

“Sure, sure,” Saitama absently agrees, eyes scanning over the snacks. He frowns when he notices that his favorite brand of rice crackers is missing. “Don’t tell me they’re out of stock.”

“Mr. Saitama, these candies too.” A pack of jellies floats in front of Saitama’s face, falling into his arms when he reaches out for them.

“Okay, but nothing else sugary or you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Saitama tells her.

“What about chips?” Fubuki asks.

“Only if you get the ones on sale.”

“Can I go look at the chips then?”

Saitama looks around; since it’s late evening the convenience store is rather quiet and has few customers. The chips are in the next aisle over and while Saitama can’t see past the shelves he can’t hear anybody else near them so he deems it safe.

“Okay,” he agrees. “But only at the chips.”

Fubuki nods and walks over to the next aisle, disappearing with her still afloat soda next to her.

Saitama’s still searching for the damn chips, muttering curses under his breath.

“How do you even run out of rice crackers like that?” he angrily mumbles. “What kind of convenience store doesn’t stock rice crackers when they’re the staple of home snacks?”

“If you’re looking for rice crackers, I’d recommend this brand,” an unfamiliar voice says, as a bag of rice crackers is put in Saitama’s periphery.

Saitama blinks, taking in the pale—deathly pale like woah this guy is the definition of white as a sheet—man with dark hair and red eyes before him. “Uh, who are you?”

“Oh sorry,” the pale man says, retracting the bag slightly with a small grin. “I’m Zombieman, a member of the Hero Board like you. I saw you ditching the Gala with Tatsumaki’s younger sister earlier and decided to ditch too. It was getting rather stuffy there and I’ve always hated that kind of stuff and I figured it’d be a good way to get to talk you, the newbie on the Hero Board, without being eavesdropped on.”

“You talk a lot,” are Saitama’s first words. Then, “Wait, new Hero Board member?”

Zombieman frowns, confused. “Yea, that’s you, isn’t it? Sweet Mask’s been going on for days now about how he was bringing a new member to the Gala as his date and since you were the one sharing a table with him during dinner I just assumed…”

Saitama sighs, closing his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Trust his boss to make decisions for him like this; how Saitama really wanted to punch him again.

“No, I was just at the Gala because I…owed my boss—Sweet Mask—a favor. I haven’t joined the Hero Board; I’m just a teacher at Z-City Hero Kindergarten.”

“Ah.” Zombieman inclines his head. “My apologies for jumping to conclusions.”

He sheepishly smiles. “I must look like a bit of a creeper now, don’t I?”

“Just a little,” Saitama concedes.

Much to Saitama’s confusion, Zombieman chuckles. “Well to make up for that, how about I cover for you and Tatsumakis sisters snack? It’s the least I can do.”

“Eh,” Saitama shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal. But if you’re willing to, go for it man.”

Zombieman smiles. “I’d love to.”

It’s a strange sight to see two grown adults dressed in finely made suits and a small little girl dressed in an expensive black dress, sitting on a park bench together as they exchange snacks and wash down their food with cans of tea.

But it’s how Saitama, Zombieman and Fubuki spend their evening and they all wordlessly agree that it’s definitely better than being at the Gala.

Eventually, Fubuki starts to complain about being tired and Saitama has to walk her home. Fubuki, though, insists she’s too tired to walk and her shoes make her feet hurt so Saitama must carry her home.

Saitama doesn’t argue—he’s used to his students demanding hugs and wanting to be carried and Fubuki does it almost every day anyways so it’s second nature for Saitama to take off his jacket, wrap it around Fubuki before picking her up and tucking her against him so she’s nicely bundled up in his arms.

“You’re quite adept at taking care of her,” Zombieman observes.

“She’s my student,” Saitama tells him. “I’m used to dealing with her.”

“Still, for the fearsome younger sister of Tatsumaki to let herself be so spoiled is a sight to see.” Zombieman smiles at Saitama. “Quite impressive.”

“Not really. I mean, kids are just kids, aren’t they?”

(He doesn't understand why that makes Zombieman smile more but hey, not his business to judge what makes other people happy.)

Somehow, Zombieman ends up walking with Saitama all the way back to Fubuki’s house. Saitama’s half-tempted to ask why Zombieman’s following them (doesn’t he have anything better to do?) but he did pay for their food at the convenience store and it’s not like he’s bad company—far better than being with Sweet Mask by a long-shot—so Saitama keeps his mouth shut and lets Zombieman tag along.

When he’s dropped Fubuki off and Zombieman still hasn’t left however, Saitama thinks it’s time to put his foot down.

“I’m going home,” he announces, pointing towards the end of the road. “My house is that way.”

“Ah, what a pity.” Zombieman jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m in the other direction.”

Inwardly, Saitama’s relieved but he merely nods, his face neutral. “Alright, see you later then.”

Zombieman smiles again, minuscule but reaching his glowing red eyes. “Yes. Until next time, Saitama.”

Next time, as Saitama finds out, ends up being two days later.

“Would you like to get dinner? My treat,” Zombieman offers and because Saitama can never say no to free food, he agrees.

Dinner ends up being ramen, much to Saitama’s surprise.

“I thought you were like my boss—he’s always trying to drag me to these fancy five-star restuarants,” Saitama tells him, when Zombieman questions him.

The Hero Board member laughs. “Sweet Mask has always had a refined taste. But I’m more of a basic person. Simple things are best for me.”

Saitama smiles, minutely but real. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Three days later, Zombieman invites him out again. This time, it’s oden.

The oden stand is a bit of a walk, located on the edge of the city’s park and tucked so neatly behind several large trees that Saitama would have never noticed it if they weren’t looking for it.

The oden turns out to be as delicious as the ramen and Zombieman’s good enough company. It’s been a while since Saitama’s spent time with someone his age that wasn’t his overbearing boss and he enjoys it more than he thought he would.

Before Saitama realizes it, dinner with Zombieman becomes routine.

Every week, Zombieman finds him after work and they go for dinner. Often times, it’s a small place Saitama would have never noticed if he had gone alone. Sometimes, it’s a place Saitama’s been to before and they spend those evenings exchanging favorites on the menu.

Sometimes, Zombieman buys him a drink and Saitama enjoys those hours where he can let himself indulge.

“This is nice,” Saitama murmurs around his glass, late in the night as they’re cleaning up the last of their dishes.

“It is,” Zombieman agrees, eyes oddly bright despite the dimness of the restaurant.

‘Like rubies,’ Saitama thinks, just a little bit drunk. Still, he’s smiling as he drinks his mozuku.

If Zombieman’s still smiling, even if all Saitama’s doing is drinking and they’re not even talking and when Zombieman lets Saitama lean on him because he’s had a little too much to drink and he’s still smiling then, Saitama doesn’t notice and just lets him walk him home.

To Saitama, Zombieman is a (sort of) colleague who he gets along with and who’s good company.

Unfortunately, his students don’t think the same thing.

“Teacher,” Genos approaches him one day, utmost seriousness lining his entire chubby face. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

If Saitama was still drinking his tea, he would have spat it across his entire table. Fortunately, he’s just put down his cup so all he can do is dumbly stare at Genos and go, “Excuse me?”

“King saw you meeting a man at a restaurant,” Genos solemnly continues. “And it was a date.”

“What?” Saitama whirls towards King.

King cowers a little under Saitama’s gaze, twisting his fingers into his sweater. “Cause you looked like you were doing the same thing as when Moe-chan goes out to eat with her boyfriend Pet-kun so I thought Mr. Saitama had a boyfriend, just like Moe-chan.”

“What?” Fubuki quickly leans over the drawing table to tower over King. “What guy? What did he look like?”

King practically flattens himself into the floor beneath Fubuki’s demanding glare, stuttering over his words. “I-I don’t know, I-I di-didn’t recognize him. He was really pale and he had r-red eyes.”

“Oh.” Fubuki sits back down, quickly calm again. “Yea, that’s Zombieman. He brought snacks for me and Mr. Saitama.”

“What a great guy!” Mumen instantly joins in on the conversation, beaming up at Saitama. “Mr. Saitama, your boyfriend’s a great person!”

Genos quickly begins to build up steam. “Even if he is a good guy, I won’t let him take Teacher away…”

“Saitama!” Sonic hollers, slamming into Saitama’s face at his fastest speed. “You better not let your boyfriend stop us from fighting. I won’t forgive you!”

Saitama feels a tick developing in his forehead as he pries Sonic off his head. “Will all of you shut up?! Zombieman isn’t my boyfriend!”

“But he took you on a date,” King quietly mumbles.

“You can go on a date with a person but not be their boyfriend,” Saitama tells him.

“Oh.” King’s expression relaxes but then quickly grows confused again. “Does that mean he’s...wooing you?”

Saitama wonders where King’s even leaning these terms (he’ll learn about King’s dating sims at a later date) but quickly shakes his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

Genos fixes him with a stare. “Are you sure Teacher?”

“Yes Genos, I’m—“

“Because I can always incincerate him.”

Saitama suppresses a long-suffering sigh. “No Genos, you cannot incinerate him. Zombieman’s not a bad guy.”

Genos deflates, all his shoulder and arm machinery immediately powering down. “Okay.”

“My students think we’re dating,” Saitama tells Zombieman later that night, over barbeque.

Zombieman, much to Saitama’s surprise, does not choke on his food nor does he splutter. All he does is raise a single eyebrow, as if saying to go on.

Saitama plucks a couple pieces of cooked steak from the grill and places it on top of his rice. “Apparently, King—one of my students—saw us going to dinner one time. He said it made us look like a couple.”

“Ah.” Zombieman chuckles. “Kids have quite the imagination.”

Saitama huffs. “Tell me about it. It took me the whole afternoon to convince them we weren’t dating.”

Zombieman lets out another chuckle but doesn’t say another word about it.

In fact, Saitama all but forgets about the conversation until they’ve finished eating and Zombieman’s waved down a waiter to get their check.

“I wouldn’t mind, you know,” he tells Saitama as he takes the check from the waiter.

Saitama, who’s been idly chewing on the remaining ice cubes in his cup, abruptly stops. “What?”

“Dating,” Zombieman clarifies, a little smirk and a light in his eyes. “Or being your boyfriend, for that matter.”

There’s a faint ‘clink’ as a piece of an ice cube falls out of Saitama’s agape mouth.

“Well,” continues Zombieman, as he places money for the check on the table before standing up. “Think about it.”

Saitama has approximately twelve hours to think over Zombieman’s words because the next morning, Boros is absent.

It’s not like Saitama hadn’t considered Boros getting sick and taking the day off but Boros was freakishly healthy—he was the only student who hadn’t come down with the flu when everyone was getting sick last winter.

Still, there was a first time for everything so Saitama doesn’t think too hard about it. Instead, he relishes in having to deal with a little less chaos for the day and enjoys his student-clinging-onto-his-back-free day.

The next day, Boros is still absent.

Either it was a really bad cold or something had happened.

Saitama decides it’s just a really bad case of the flu and leaves it alone. And if his back feels oddly light, he ignores that too.

By the third day, Saitama’s starting to consider calling Boros' guardians.

He’s seen one of them once: a tall, thin man with a large head and who tended to awkwardly jerk around his limbs like he used to having more than two arms and two legs (which was weird in itself but well, he was a foreigner). Somehow, the computer systems are down that day and Genos accidentally burns away the only paper copy of Boros information in the midst of chasing after Sonic during break time so Saitama ends up being unable to call Boros house.

He considers going to visit but, somehow, his boss appears and wrangles him into another pointless Hero Board event (this time, an outdoor gala) that almost has Saitama quitting, if not for some wine being accidentally spilled onto Sweet Mask’s expensive suit and forcing them both to leave the gala early.

(If Saitama notices the oddly-shaped hair peeking out from the bushes just before Sweet Mask gets splashed, he pretends not to but he makes a note to buy an extra box of raisin cookies for story time next week.)

However, by the time he escapes Sweet Mask and returns home, it’s past ten and too late to be visiting anyone so Saitama goes to bed and just hopes Boros is there tomorrow.

He isn’t and Saitama is getting seriously annoyed.

Seriously, what were Boros’ guardians doing? If Boros was going to be out this long, his guardians should have at least called the kindergarten to tell Saitama. At this rate, Saitama wasn’t sure if he only needed to buy five or six packs of hard candy for next week.

He was going to visit Boros if it was the last thing he did today.

Even if it meant declining Zombieman’s invitation to dinner, when he finds the Hero Board member waiting for him at the front of the kindergarten after school.

“How long did you wait?” Saitama asks, more out of curiousity than anything else.

Zombieman shrugs. “Not long.”

“Teacher.” Genos appears out of absolutely nowhere (Saitama worries Sonic’s rubbing off on him) and clings tightly to his pants leg. “Is this the person who’s wooing you?”

“No,” says Saitama.

“Yes,” says Zombieman, at the exact same time.

He brushes off Saitama’s annoyed look with a smile. “Well, it’s true.”

Genos glowers up at Zombieman, his chest plates beginning to heat up in the same way before he fights Sonic in class. “Teacher is busy. He doesn’t have time for a boyfriend.”

Zombieman continues to smile. “That’s alright. I don’t mind being second to work.”

Genos continues to glower up at him, attempting to set Zombieman on fire with his eyes alone.

Zombieman remains undeterred and Saitama quickly grows bored of their silent staredown.

He attempts to address his student first. “Genos, isn’t the doctor coming to pick you up soon?”

Genos scowls at the thought of leaving his beloved teacher in the hands of a potential boyfriend but with some more urging, he reluctantly detaches his hands from Saitama’s pants legs.

“If you upset Teacher, I will incinerate you,” Genos threatens, black-and-gold eyes never leaving Zombiemans as he says this.

Zombieman never gets a chance to reply as Genos guardian, one Dr. Kuseno, arrives to pick him up.

“So, up for some curry tonight?” Zombieman asks as Genos finally leaves the scene.

Saitama shakes his head. “I have to go see one of my students. He’s been absent for almost the whole week now but I haven’t heard anything from him.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” Zombieman offers.

“It’ll be better if I go alone.” Then, not wanting to leave Zombieman hanging (he was a decent guy, potential boyfriend or not), adds, “I’ll give you my answer on Monday.”

For some reason, this makes Zombieman smile and his whole face softens in a strange, indescribable way that makes Saitama wonder just what he said to make the other man so happy.

“Thank you,” is all Zombieman says but Saitama can’t help but think he’s trying to say so much more.

Halfway to Boros’ house, Saitama finds Garou sitting in the trees.

(He has a feeling Garou’s been following him since he left the kindergarten but he doesn’t mention it when he waves up at the child.)

“Are you on your way home?” he asks instead.

Garou scowls, turning away from Saitama and says nothing.

Saitama shrugs and keeps walking.

A couple blocks later, he meets Garou again. This time, he’s sitting at a park bench.

“On your way home?” Saitam asks again.

“I’m a villain, I do whatever I want,” Garou announces, not really answering his question.

He shrugs and keeps walking.

Two more blocks and Garou’s crouched in a tree again, camouflaged so well in the foliage Saitama’s almost impressed; he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone but Sonic blend in so well.

He considers calling out to Garou again but then figures that if the kid’s trying to hide, he should leave him be. He’s not hurting anyone so Saitama leaves him be.

He’s almost to Boros house when he finally stops pretending.

“Okay,” Saitama announces, very clearly and very loudly before he reaches up into the tree and picks Garou up. “How about you to explain to me why you’ve been following me all evening?”

“I wasn’t following you,” Garou says.

Saitama raises an eyebrow.

Garou huffs, half-heartededly kicking his legs outwards. “I wasn’t following you. I was hunting.”

“Hunting?”

“The hero, Sweet Mask,” Garou clarifies, meeting Saitama’s eyes. “He’s my target.”

“And you’re following me because…?”

“Cause he likes you,” Garou states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So he’ll come find you, so all I have to do is follow you until he appears. Like when he found you for the party.”

‘So it was you,’ Saitama wants to say. He has a feeling, though, that if he were to say anything Garou would immediately clam up.

Even now, Garou refuses to say he cares.

‘Stubborn brat,’ Saitama thinks, with a slight tinge of affection.

“He hasn’t showed up all evening though,” Saitama points out. “Are you sure you still want to follow me?”

“He’ll appear,” Garou insists. “Cause it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Garou crosses his arms across his chest, looks away and refuses to answer.

Saitama sighs. “Fine, have it your way.”

“Why’s Boros in your class?”

“Hm?” It’s the first time Garou’s striked up a conversation since they began walking together to Boros’ house about a couple blocks back so Saitama’s caught off-guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Boros isn’t like the others,” says Garou.

“Hey now,” Saitama begins with a frown. “Just because he’s a foreigner doesn’t make him any different from everyone else. He’s a kid, just like all my other students.”

“He’s not a hero,” Garou mutters.

Saitama stares. “And?”

“He goes to Hero Kindergarten.” Garou scowls and shrinks a little into himself. “He shouldn’t go there if he’s not a hero.”

(Saitama has a feeling Garou isn’t just talking about Boros.)

He crouches down to Garou’s level. “Hero Kindergarten is just a name, you know. It may have the word hero in it, but it’s still an ordinary kindergarten like any other.”

“Normal kindergartens don’t have robots cleaning the school,” Garou sullenly goes.

“It’s uh, the concept that’s normal,” Saitama manages to get out. “Hero Kindergarten is a place to go for kids who need to go to kindergarten, whether they’re a hero or a normal person.”

‘Or even a self-proclaimed villain,’ is the part Saitama leaves unspoken.

Garou scuffs his feet across the ground and looks towards the sidewalk, the street lamps that are beginning to turn on in the slowly fading sunset, the large apartment complex up ahead of them where Boros lives—anywhere but Saitama. “So anyone can go there?”

“Anyone,” Saitama agrees. “And if you go there, you might get a teacher who’ll give you your favorite candy as a reward for doing well in class.”

“I don’t have a favorite candy,” Garou counters.

“Everyone loves chocolate nougats,” says Saitama, remembering how quickly his students had devoured them when he had brought them to class last month.

“Not me,” Garou proclaims with a fiercely proud grin. “I like raisins.”

And then, he disappears.

“Talk about a shy kid,” Saitama says out loud, once he knows Garou’s run far enough to be out of earshot.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “Well at least now I know what flavor candies to buy.”

Despite going off-track in the conversation, Garou’s words do leave Saitama thinking.

Why was Boros at Hero Kindergarten? He wasn’t like Genos, Sonic, Fubuki, Mumen or King who joined because they had aspirations of being heroes. And he wasn’t like Sonic who joined simply to piss Saitama off (although some days it sure looked like it).

From all that Saitama knows about Boros, Boros had just … appeared in his class and never left.

“Boros, how long are you going to stay on my back?”

“Your back’s warm,” Boros replies.

Saitama huffs. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I can touch your back like this,” Boros says instead.

Saitama gives up and lets his student talk in riddles. And if Boros wants to stay on his back that’s fine too; he can handle a little extra weight there and it’d be more hassle trying to pull Boros off.

“When I couldn’t reach you,” Boros mutters against his shoulder blades during nap time, after all the other kids have fallen asleep and Saitama himself is on the verge of dozing off. “I was really cold, and I wished that in my next life, I wouldn’t be enemies with you anymore Saitama.”

Despite how bizarre Boros’ words were, Saitama can’t help but find himself impressed by how extensive Boros’ vocabulary is compared to his other students.

‘Foreigners these days sure are amazing,’ is the last thought Saitama has before he closes his eyes and falls asleep to the steady beat of a heart against his back.

Saitama scratches his head as he faces the door to Boros’ apartment, still thinking back about what Boros had said that one nap time.

“It must be a thing where he comes from,” Saitama eventually decides and leaves it at that.

The following Monday, Boros returns to class and Saitama goes back to dealing with an extra attachment on his back.

In fact, Boros seems intent on making up for the week he hadn’t been on Saitama’s back by clinging even tighter to Saitama’s back—a feat Saitama thought hadn’t even possible until Boros manages to keep himself attached even after Saitama does a double roll and jumps across the entire classroom twice to stop Genos from intercepting Sonic’s shurikens with lasers and destroying the windows in the process.

“I can’t believe you were too sick to move two days ago,” Saitama mutters as he puts both Genos and Sonic in time-out.

In response, Boros holds on even tighter.

With Boros back in full cling mode and the rest of his students as active as ever, Saitama’s ready for Monday to end so he can go home and spend the rest of his evening in front of the TV as he eats the leftover curry he brought from his favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant yesterday.

His students, however, have other plans.

“Mr. Saitama!” Mumen is running up towards him, already packed up. “Can we go on Hero Patrol today?”

“Hero Patrol?” Fubuki repeats. “What’s that?”

Mumen beams. “It’s where Mr. Saitama and I go on patrol in the city for villains. Can we Mr. Saitama, can we?”

“Hero Patrol?” This time, it’s Genos. “With Teacher?”

There’s a tell-tale gleam in Genos’ eyes and Saitama has to suppress the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose because he knows exactly what’s going to happen next.

(And in the midst of it all, Saitama forgets something important.)

Halfway through Hero Patrol, Saitama suddenly remembers.

“Ah crap,” he says out loud, turning to Zombieman. “We were supposed to talk about something today, weren’t we?”

In the mayhem of having all his students coming to Hero Patrol with him and Mumen, Saitama had forgotten the the whole reason why Zombieman had been waiting for him outside the kindergarten and had, instead, roped the other into Hero Patrol as well if only so there would be another adult to help him watch over the kids.

So when he’s suddenly hit with the realization now, Saitama wouldn’t be all that surprised if Zombieman was so pissed he just left them then and there. Surprisingly, he doesn’t.

Instead, he’s laughing.

It’s a whole-body laugh that has even King—perched on his shoulder after some coaxing because King had been too scared to walk around the city with the others but still wanted to come on Hero Patrol—looking down in confusion.

“Mr. Zombie, are you okay?” King asks, concerned.

“Perfectly fine,” Zombieman gets out between chuckles, flashing King a grin. He turns to Saitama. “This is more than fine, actually. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in years.”

“But wasn’t there—“

Zombieman shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, really.” There’s something strange about his expression when he says this to Saitama, an array of emotions too complex for Saitama to decipher at that moment. “I just have to accept the way things are now. If this is how it’ll end, then that’s how it’ll end.”

Saitama thinks those words to be rather foreboding but now Zombieman’s striking up a conversation with King and Mumen, Boros is tugging harder than before on his sweatshirt, Fubuki’s beginning to complain about her feet hurting and Genos and Sonic have gone missing again for the third time this hour.

(A familiar ‘BOOM!’ two blocks down, however, tells Saitama exactly where they’ve gone.)

By the time they finish Hero Patrol and take a breather in the park near the kindergarten, Saitama’s too exhausted to care about anything but going home to sleep.

Zombieman pats him on the shoulder, a job well done and offers to buy everyone a drink from the vending machines before they head home. A clamor quickly arises as all of Saitama’s students begin listing off their desired beverage (Fubuki’s list becomes extensively long very quickly and Saitama has to stop her before she starts listing things that are way too expensive to even be found in a drink machine) to which Saitama takes pity on Zombieman and just hands him a list so he doesn’t have to memorize their orders.

He gets a grateful smile and another pat on the shoulder before Zombieman disappears further into the park.

“Mr. Saitama, did you ever reply to Mr. Zombie?”

Saitama blinks. “What are you talking about King?”

King adverts his eyes to the ground, suddenly shy. “I thought Mr. Zombie and Mr. Saitama were going to have a confession scene today.”

“A what now?”

“He can’t,” Genos loudly proclaims, arms tightly wrapped around Saitama’s left leg. “Teacher is too busy for such things.”

“That’s right,” Fubuki pipes and Saitama thinks he might faint—Fubuki and Genos agreeing with each other? The world must be ending.

Fubuki holds onto Saitama’s right leg. “Mr. Saitama still has a lot to teach us so he will be too busy to do other things.”

“I’m Saitama’s rival!” Sonic yells because why not and leaps onto Saitama, quickly climbing to the top of Saitama’s head where he continues to loudly proclaim their rivalry.

“Mr. Saitama, look!” Mumen calls out. “There’s a bird nest over here!”

Saitama splutters, practically tripping over himself as he races over. “Mumen! Get down from that tree right now!”

“But Mr. Saitama, what if one of the baby birds fell out of their nest? As a hero, it would be my duty to put the bird back where it belongs!”

“Boros!” King wails. “Put me down!”

Boros frowns, not understanding why his fellow classmate is crying. He had just been curious to see how long he could hold someone in the air and had picked King because he was closest. King was only a couple of centimeters off the ground but he wailed like Boros was dangling him off the edge of a cliff and Boros couldn’t understand why.

“Stop crying,” he insists, shaking King slightly.

Not surprisingly, this makes King cry harder.

And this is the scene Zombieman walks into when he returns with drinks: Saitama is simultaneously yelling at Boros to leave King alone while scaling a tree to grab Mumen off the branch he is on and Sonic is still declaring himself as Saitama’s rival while taunting Fubuki and Genos who grow ever angrier with each word and look ready to climb up and drag Sonic off Saitama by his hair. Trying to regulate the chaos, Saitama looks exasperated beyond words but when Mumen asks why he can’t see the birds Saitama patiently explains that he shouldn’t do it alone but having an adult with him is fine. And when Fubuki whines about her feet hurting, Saitama doesn’t think twice about picking her up and coddling her, much to her delight. And when Genos declares he’s tired too even though he looks like he has enough energy to power all the park’s lights Saitama just sighs and picks him up too.

And Zombieman—even if he never got an answer from Saitama (and he has a feeling that he never will) and just spent his whole afternoon taking care of a bunch of kids when he should have been doing Hero Board work—can’t help but think this day couldn’t have gone any better.

“Being second place to work really isn’t bad at all.”

Saitama raises a brow at Zombieman, who merely smiles.

(He feels like he’s heard those words before, but he can’t remember where.)

The kids have all been dropped off at their homes so now it’s just Zombieman and Saitama. It’s almost evening; the last bits of sunlight is melting away into darkness and the brightest of the stars have started to be become visible in the transition.

The atmosphere is quiet, subdued. If Zombieman wants to finally, finally  ask Saitama for his answer, now was the time.

Instead—

“I found a great hotpot place near my house. Wanna go on Wednesday?”

Saitama shrugs. “Sure.”

(Zombieman thinks he can live without Saitama’s answer, or him ever remembering he was supposed to give an answer.

He’s happy enough and besides, Saitama was a teacher and a Hero—he’s pretty sure there’s no space in there for a boyfriend.)

Chapter Text

Since becoming a teacher, Saitama’s gotten used to a lot of weird things.

Like Genos following him home four days out of five (not counting the weekend where he practically makes camp in Saitama’s apartment and it takes the combined forces of Dr. Kuseno’s guilt trips and Saitama promising to sit with him during arts and crafts hour for Genos to even consider going home), Sonic and Garou stalking him when he goes grocery shopping (he once caught them fighting over who got sit in the tree branch closest to the super mart when he was about to enter and had to pull them apart when Sonic started pulling out his exploding shuriken because he likes this super mart and he will not watch it get destroyed because two overpowered children were throwing a temper tantrum, damn it) among other things—he doesn’t even want to think about the time he met Fubuki’s sister and the resulting chaos that ensued (he’s still picking pebbles and sand out from all his clothes and it’s been at least two months. God, why did Fubuki’s sister have to be so petty?)

At this point, the weird has become the norm in Saitama’s life and while he’d like it if his boss would stop showing up out of the blue all the time (seriously, how did Sweet Mask always know where he was? Did he have a gps chip on him or something?), he’s gotten used to dealing with the antics of everyone around him and keeps chugging on.

But it’s the first time Saitama’s walked out of his apartment and seen a kid getting bullied at the front gates.

A tall kid with sideburns (puberty hitting early?) is grinning viciously down at a shorter boy with long hair while a teenager with wickedly spiky hair (seriously, he could probably kill a man with hair that spiky) stands stoically at the side, watching them.

It’s almost refreshing, how normal of a situation this is but it also throws Saitama off because he hasn’t dealt with bullies since middle school when he had been the one getting bullied because lord help anyone who tried to bully Genos or Fubuki or—god forbid—Boros.

But then Saitama sees Long Hair Kid cry out as Sideburns grabs his hair and punches him in the face, knocking out at least two of his teeth. Teen Spike doesn’t even blink as the teeth that fall out land at his feet and Long Hair starts bawling really hard as Sideburns refuses to let go.

Crying children Saitama can deal with and without even thinking, he’s moving forward ready to deliver a sharp reprimand.

His “reprimand” ends up being a bit too rough for Sideburns and Teen Spike to handle as evidenced by them both being unconscious on the ground.

There’s a vague sense of déjà vu as Saitama looks down at the two limp bodies lying on the concrete and wondering if he’ll get fired for hitting children as he nervously speed dials his boss.

(“Just remember, call me if anything happens.”

“Why do I have your number in my phone?”

“I put it in Saitama. How else would you have it?”

“I’ve never given you my phone, let alone asked for your number. Did you hack into my phone while I wasn’t looking?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about Saitama. Now, are you coming with me to brunch or do I have to start listing out all the conduct codes you’ve broken at the last gala?”)

Fortunately, he doesn’t get fired (another moment of déjà vu) as Sweet Mask explains that the Sideburns and Teen Spike were actually members of the Villain Education System—

(“That’s a thing?”

“Yes, Saitama. If you were paying more attention to the last seminar you would have already known the Hero Education board has been on the look-out for Villains since the appointment of the Villain’s new Dean of Education.”

“No but…Villain Education System? Really?”)

—that they had been looking for.

His boss, once he arrives at the scene, congratulates him on a job well-done. He begins smiling at Saitama in the way he always gets when he’s about to wrangle Saitama into something ridiculous so Saitama’s already backing up before Sweet Mask even begins talking. He’s suddenly grateful that Long Hair hadn’t run away yet and quickly grabs the kid, making the excuse that he has to get the kid checked out before he’s bolting off to the hospital.

He gets the kid treated and makes sure Long Hair has a guardian coming to pick him up before he leaves the hospital.

Or at least, that was the plan until Long Hair suddenly grabs his arm and refuses to let go.

Through the tears and snot among all the blood pouring out of his mouth, Saitama manages to discern that Long Hair wants him to stay until his guardian comes and while Saitama really wants to get to the monthly sale at the big supermarket downtown, he also knows that being bullied sucks and the last thing he should do to a crying kid is leave them alone because that’s just an absolute jerk move.

So he sighs and gets himself as comfortable as possible in the hospital’s plastic chair next to Long Hair’s bed.

“What’s your name?” Saitama asks first as he realizes calling a kid “Long Hair” isn’t the most appropriate thing.

“Suiryu,” Long Hair manages to say even with a mouthful of blood that he has to periodically spit out every ten minutes.

“I’m Saitama,” he introduces himself.

“Saitama,” Suiryu repeats, then begins to broadly grin. “You saved me, Saitama. Does that make you a hero?”

Saitama opens his mouth, ready to correct him because really, what is with everyone immediately drawing conclusions to Saitama being a hero just because he teaches at a school with the word hero in it? He’s just a kindergarten teacher who had wanted to be a hero as a hobby but it never worked out.

And then he stops.

And thinks.

It’s true that he’s a kindergarten teacher, not a hero but he had saved a kid from getting bullied. He thinks back to his middle school days when he had been pushed around and briefly wonders what would have happened if a random stranger had suddenly defeated his bullies for him.

Would he have considered that stranger a hero?

“Yea,” Saitama finally decides to say to the innocent, wide-eyed, grinning child with the missing teeth. “I’m a hero.”

Two days later, Saitama’s starting to regret it.

“Saitama!” Fully healed Suiryu—damn that kid recovered fast—excitedly waves from where he’s standing at the front gates of Hero Kindergarten, his grin still infectiously bright even with the gaps in his mouth. “Make me your disciple please!”

“No,” Saitama immediately says as he thinks, god not another one.

(“How old are you? Don’t you have class?”

“I’m seven and I’ve already completed my martial arts training so, nope!”

“Your what training now?”)

For the first time since he’s started working at Hero Kindergarten, Saitama’s grateful for how pushy his kids are because it means he’s able to deal with Suiryu better.

He gets Suiryu to agree to not follow him home by treating him to dinner at a local family restaurant; in-between ordering and eating their meals, Saitama (unwillingly) listens to Suiryu’s life story.

He’s a genius martial artist who’s already mastered the “Void Fist” style and has been travelling the world—

(“Aren’t you a bit too young for that?”

“Of course not. I’m already seven, Saitama!”

“That’s Mr. Saitama to you, brat. And I’m pretty sure there are laws against this kind of stuff.”)

-since then, living a carefree but aimless lifestyle. He used to view the Hero Board with disdain because none of the heroes he ever met were stronger than him—

(“Have you been fighting adults?”

“Well, duh. Who else would I compete against in tournaments?”

“There are so many things wrong in that statement I’m not even going to bother listing them all.”)

-but then Saitama had appeared when Suiryu had been targeted by Bakuzan, an older martial artist who had always been jealous of Suiryu, and Gouketsu, a master martial artist who had forsaken his humanity to become a monster after joining the Villains Education System (Saitama decides not to ask—he’s going to let that particular sleeping bear lie exactly where it is).

He had saved Suiryu when Suiryu had been in the depths of despair (‘Kids sure love to exaggerate things,’ Saitama thinks then. ‘Also isn’t despair a bit too complicated of a word for a seven-year-old?’) and helped Suiryu realize what a true hero was.

“I want to be a hero like you Saitama!” Suiryu cheerfully exclaims, jumping up in his seat. “So make me your disciple, please!”

“No,” Saitama says for the second time that day. “I’m not taking any disciples.”

“Awwwww.” Suiryu pouts. “Why not?”

“Because I’m a teacher and I already have students I need to teach,” Saitama explains.

Suiryu’s pout clears and he immediately brightens. “Okay, I’ll join your class then! Then I’ll be one of your students and you can teach me too!”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.” Saitama makes sure to emphasize the kindergarten part.

Suiryu blinks, tilts his head. “So?”

“You’re too old to be in kindergarten,” Saitama points out, in his most patient teacher tone.

“I’m starting school late,” Suiryu blandly replies like there’s absolutely nothing weird with this whole conversation.

“No,” Saitama repeats for the third time. For him, it’s less of the legal issue and more of a this-kid-is-going-to-be-another-headache-I-can-already-feel-it that has him trying to stop Suiryu from going straight to the Hero Board Headquarters to request a transfer into Saitama’s class.

“How about you join us when we go on Hero Patrol instead?” he suggests.

As much as Saitama had wanted to avoid it and how much it annoyed him, Hero Patrol had become a routine extracurricular activity for Saitama’s kindergarten class partially due to Mumen’s eagerness to do his “heroic duties” and partially because Genos refused to waste any opportunity to spend more time with his teacher. It’s more of a headache to stop doing Hero Patrol than it is go on them so Saitama’s agreed to take them on all on Hero Patrol every Tuesday and Friday now; having one more kid join them wouldn’t kill Saitama.

(He hopes.)

“I’m Teacher’s number one disciple,” Genos proudly states as he glares up at Suiryu while he clings to Saitama with enough strength to break every bone in a normal man’s leg.

“Cool!” Suiryu toothily grins down at Genos. “So that makes me disciple number two, huh? That’s fine with me. As long as I get to learn from Saitama, I don’t really care about anything else.”

Genos beams as someone acknowledges both his devotion to Teacher as well Teacher’s strength; he has a feeling he and Suiryu are going to get along just fine.

(For Saitama, Hero Patrol hasn’t even started and he already wants to go home.)

Chapter Text

Saitama was a creature of habit.

It was the reason why he always preferred going to the same supermarkets for sales, why he always wore the same hoodie and jeans when he went out despite the obscene amount of clothes his boss keeps trying to shove on him (not to mention one, because Saitama wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some of those “fashionable” shirts - fashionable according to Sweet Mask, “A fucking nightmare to figure out how to even put on,” according to Saitama – he got and two, his hoodie and jeans were comfortable, damn it) and, above all, why he remained in the same apartment complex even after he got his teacher job and his salary could actually let him afford to live in a better place with more space and a stove top that worked all the time and not just half the time.

(That and because apartment hunting was an absolute pain in the ass, higher salary or no.)

So Saitama remains in the same apartment he had gotten back when he was still training to be a hero and was looking for a place that was cheap enough to afford on a part-time convenience store salary. It worked and Saitama was perfectly content with it all.

Then, Sunday morning happened:

Saitama’s enjoying his day off by lounging in front of the TV with his favorite brand of green tea and rice crackers when his doorbell rings.

He opens and it’s his landlord.

“Z-city’s been declared inhospitable so the complex is being shut down,” she announces. “So get out.”

It's out of sheer desperation that he calls Bang first.

It’s very lucky he does because the other kindergarten teacher was already aware of the announced evacuation of Z-city and had actually been about to call Saitama himself to ask if he wanted to stay at his dojo until he found a new place.

(He also learns during the conversation that Bang was also a member of the Hero Education Board, even though he was also a teacher? Saitama’s not sure how that works, especially since the old man ran a dojo on top of that but hey, to each their own.)

“Thanks, man you’re a lifesaver,” Saitama says to the old man once he’s put all his stuff down in one of the guest rooms the dojo has reserved for students from other martial art schools who were interested in learning the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist style. “I seriously thought I was going to have to sleep on the streets or find a homeless shelter again. Man, those times were rough – couldn’t get any privacy in places like those,” continues Saitama as the two of them head to the dining hall where all dojo members ate at.

Bang looks at him in confusion. “You didn’t try contacting the Hero Board to request for accommodations? Every city – except for Z-city now – contains at least one boarding house for members of the Hero Education System. If you had called them, I’m sure the Board could have made arrangements for you to stay in one of the Y-city boarding houses. You wouldn’t have had to travel all the way here.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’d take staying at your dojo over a boarding house with a bunch of strangers any day.”

“Oh?” There’s a gleam in Bang’s eye. “Then Saitama-kun, how would you like to enlist in the dojo? Newcomers right now get—“

“Pass.”

“So quick!”

“By the way Saitama-kun, where have you been reassigned to?” Bang asks him as they’re both digging into their ramen in the dojo dining hall.

“Reassigned?” Saitama repeats.

Bang chortles. “You didn’t think you’d be going back to Z-City tomorrow to teach, did you? They’ve officially declared the city inhospitable so all the teachers at the Z-city Hero Schools are being reassigned to a different school in another city. I’m being sent back to B-city, my hometown. And you?”

Saitama frowns. “I haven’t gotten any news about a reassignment.”

This makes Bang pause. “Really? All reassignments should have been delivered by now. We start work tomorrow, after all.”

Saitama shrugs, not too concerned. “Maybe they’re finally firing me. Guess I’ll have to go job hunting again.”

Monday morning rolls around and Saitama finally finds out why he hasn’t been reassigned to a new kindergarten.

The good news is that he isn’t getting fired.

The bad news is that his boss is here.

“Come along Saitama,” orders Sweet Mask, like he hasn’t just arrived in a limo in front of Bang’s dojo and looking like he just stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine cover. “We have much to do now that you’ve been made an official member of the Hero Education Board.”

Saitama tries very, very hard not to groan out loud – he should have known his boss would do something like pull some strings and force him onto the Hero Board despite everything Saitama has done to avoid it.

Sweet Mask, of course, could care less and merely gives him The Look.

And Saitama, because he really doesn’t have a choice anymore now, reluctantly follows Sweet Mask out of the dojo (at this point, Saitama really doesn’t want to know how Sweet Mask manages to find him every single time) and into the waiting limo.

Just as Saitama expected, working as a Hero Education Board member was boring.

It was nothing but meetings all day long with people looking just as bored as him but trying their best to hide it. Everyone plasters on smiles to please everyone else and wear suits crisper than a freshly baked loaf of bread being pulled out of the oven.

The only bright side is that he bumps into Zombieman in-between meetings.

The other looks just as pleased to see him, if not slightly confused, until Saitama explains the situation to him and he brightens as he claps Saitama on the shoulder.

“Sorry to hear about what happened with Z-city but hey, glad you’re here. Now we can both be bored to tears together.”

Saitama’s lips quirk upwards slightly – he was glad to have at least one familiar face here, it definitely made the day more bearable.

“Saitama!”

And then Saitama’s small smile is dropping just as quickly as it appeared as he’s reminded of who exactly he’s being forced to shadow all day as part of his new member orientation.

His boss looks even more annoyed than usual, arms crossed and a glare even more stern than the one he gave Saitama when he found out about him ditching the Hero Board Gala. “I thought I made it abundantly clear that you’re to stay with me the whole day as part of your orientation. How else will I be able to help you familiarize you with the work here? Not to mention I’m extremely busy, so you should be grateful that I’m taking time out of my schedule to help you here, Saitama.”

“Aw come on, you won’t even let me go to the bathroom on my own,” Saitama complains. “And besides, it’s not like you’re the only member of the Hero Board that I know.”

Here, Saitama gestures to Zombieman who’s standing next to him. “Zombieman’s a member of the Hero Board too, right? He could show me around if you’re so busy.”

Something near-ugly flashes across Sweet Mask’s face when his eyes meet Zombieman. “I was not aware that you were acquainted with this…particular member.”

In response, Zombieman smirks. “On the other hand, I’ve heard plenty about you from Saitama.”

Sweet Mask would have sneered if it wasn’t so unsightly but the expression he wears as he looks at Zombieman is just as condescending. “I see you’ve been stalking one of my employees. How disgraceful and utterly unlike what a Hero Board member should be like.”

“Stalking?” Zombieman barks out a laugh. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Unlike with you, Saitama actually enjoys going on dates with me.”

Sweet Mask’s expression morphs into something cold and blank.

“Dates?” he repeats in a very quiet, very deadly whisper.

“Oi!” Saitama yells. “Don’t call them that, you’ll make him misunderstand! You’ve already made my students think you’re wooing me – don’t give my boss the same impression.”

“Wooing?”

“What?” Zombieman’s smirking at Saitama now, but this time it’s much more good-natured. Still, there’s an edge to the smirk, a sharpness in his red eyes as he looks at Sweet Mask from the corner of his vision. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Saitama sighs; the last thing he needs is for his boss to try and put him on an even tighter leash than right now so he attempts to salvage the situation.

“He’s joking, Sweet Mask. We’re just friends and we go out for food sometimes after work. That’s it,” Saitama explains.

Saitama’s explanation does nothing to appease Sweet Mask, only going so far as to make his face darken even further. “And you’ve gone to these...outings, willingly?”

“Of course,” Zombieman cuts in, still smirking. “Unlike you, some of us actually care about what others think.”

“Unbelievable,” Sweet Mask hisses. “Saitama, you’d rather go along with this uncouth man who would take you to some dump and eat food that should only be given to rats instead of with me?”

“Hey, don’t diss food like that,” Saitama says with a frown.

Sweet Mask opens his mouth, no doubt to further insult Zombieman’s taste in food among other various things but a member of the administrative staff comes around the corner calling for all members to assemble for the next meeting.

His boss gives him a meaningful look and Saitama inwardly sighs as he walks over to Sweet Mask’s side.

He doesn’t say anything about the hand that comes to grab his wrist – tight and unrelenting, strong enough to probably bend even steel – as Sweet Mask leads him away, Zombieman’s eyes glaring holes into Sweet Mask’s back.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of boring meetings and constantly playing keep away with his far too clingy boss who was convinced he could only “bestow” his wisdom unto Saitama by being as close as physically possible to him.

Saitama’s practically sprinting out the building when the clock hits five and desperately prays that his boss doesn’t come chasing after him with dinner plans.

“Saitama-kun, did you tell your students where you were transferred to yet?” Bang asks over dinner that night.

It’s such a weird and out-of-the-blue question that it makes Saitama pause in the middle of chewing. “My students?”

“Well, ex-students now,” Bang clarifies. “They’ve all been assigned to a different kindergarten class now with the evacuation but I was wondering if you had informed them about your transfer.”

Satiama looks at Bang, bewildered. “Why would I do that?”

Bang looks at Saitama, just as bewildered. “You mean you didn’t? I thought with how close you were with your students that you would have tried reaching out to all their guardians about the transfer.”

“Isn’t that something the Hero Board would do, not the teachers? And it’s not like I was that close with the kids; all of them were just really clingy for some reason.”

Bang grins. “Isn’t that what it means to be close to your students?”

Later that night, as Saitama’s getting ready for bed, he briefly wonders if his (ex) students would be determined enough to travel across cities to come find him.

‘Nah,’ he thinks as he lies down in his futon. ‘I mean, they’re just kids.’

Saitama should really learn not to underestimate kids.

“Teacher!” Genos yells in near-tears and attached to Saitama through the sheer grip he has on Saitama’s dress shirt. “Is it true you’re no longer going to be my teacher? I refuse! I will not be taught by anyone else who is not Teacher!”

His lunch break on his second day of work at the Hero Education Board and Saitama’s consoling a wailing cyborg child staining his newly pressed dress shirt with oil stains.

“Genos,” Saitama goes, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Go back to your class.”

“No! There is no other in all the Hero Education who is as knowledgeable as Teacher!” If possible, Genos’ grip on Saitama’s shirt tightens even more and Saitama has to let Genos remain clinging onto him if he doesn’t want his newly pressed dress shirt to be ripped.

There are only twenty minutes left of Saitama’s lunch break but Genos is holding onto him like he’s going to remain attached there for the rest of the day (and more, if he gets his way).

Saitama begins to frantically think. “Genos, if you don’t go back to your classes, how will you be able to help me during Hero Patrol?”

Genos perks up and his grip on Saitama’s shirt lessens enough that Saitama’s no longer running the risk of his clothes ripping. “Help Teacher? During Hero Patrol?”

Saitama runs with it. “That’s right. Learning from other teachers will provide you with different ideas and lessons that will help you get stronger and assist me in Hero Patrol.”

“I see!” Genos is suddenly clear-faced sans for the drying oil tracks on his face. “Very well! I shall do my utmost best so I will be able to assist Teacher in Hero Patrol. No one else shall beat me in their abilities to help Teacher!”

“Sure, sure,” Saitama absently agrees, using a spare napkin to wipe off the oil smudges on Genos’s face. “Do your best and I’ll see you on Friday, alright?”

“Of course, Teacher! But Z-city has been quarantined – shall we still go there for Hero Patrol? I have no problems with this so long as Teacher wishes for it.”

Saitama didn’t have a problem going back to Z-city either since none of the monsters were strong enough to pose a challenge to him but with little kids?

“Nah, let’s meet in the center park in A-city. It’ll be too chaotic in Z-city.” A-city was peaceful. Hero Patrol would go smoothly and Genos would be appeased and Saitama could go home and enjoy his evening.

Right?

Wednesday morning and Saitama’s staring down another one of his ex-students with what looks like to be a miniature army of children in suits trailing behind her.

“Mr. Saitama, I am here to confirm that we are having our usual Hero Patrol in A-city on Friday and not in Z-city,” says Fubuki, standing as tall and haughty as a five-year-old could.

“Yeah, that’s right. Who are your friends?”

“They are the Blizzard Group,” Fubuki proudly announces, puffing herself up. “They follow my command. But don’t worry Mr. Saitama, I’ve already informed them that you are an exception so they will listen to you as well.”

“That’s uh, nice,” Saitama praises her, reaching down to pet Fubuki on the head.

Fubuki preens under the attention and Saitama has a vague feeling that she’ll be lording this over Genos when they meet.

She then turns to face the children behind her. “Our next meeting will then be during Friday recess. Blizzard group, disperse!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The entire group of children chorus in perfect unison.

Saitama’s almost envious – why couldn’t his class have been that obedient?

(On another note, when did Fubuki start running a gang?)

“Hi Saitama!” Suiryu waves excitedly from where he’s standing at the entrance of the park Saitama’s using to hide from his boss during his lunch break. Next to him, Mumen is dutifully holding a nervous King’s hand, his tricycle parked by him.

“That’s Mr. Saitama to you,” Saitama automatically responds. Then, “How did you even find me?”

Suiryu grins, sly. “Connections.”

What kind of connections can you have as a seven-year-old, Saitama wants to say but then decides that he really doesn’t want to know.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Saitama.” Ever polite Mumen bows and King quickly follows suit.

“Hey Mumen. Hey King. Here about Hero Patrol?”

After seeing Genos and Fubuki, Saitama already has an idea of what the three of them are here for.

Mumen’s face lights up. “So it’s true that we’re still doing Hero Patrol?”

“Yea, but in A-city this time since Z-city’s been quarantined.”

“Aww, that’s no fun,” Suiryu whines. “A-city’s like, the safest city cause the Hero Education headquarters is here. We won’t be able to fight any villains here.”

“It doesn’t matter how safe it is, you shouldn’t ever let your guard down,” Saitama tells Suiryu.

(He really hopes that came off as teacher-like as it sounded in his head because in truth, he really just wanted it to be a peaceful stroll through the city – he’d rather not lose five years of his life every time he loses sight of one of the kids.)

“That’s true,” Mumen readily agrees. “A hero must always be prepared for anything and everything!”

Suiryu wrinkles his nose. “If you say so.”

“We need to go back,” King reminds them, holding up his limited edition Moe-chan wrist watch. “Recess is almost over.”

“You guys need me to walk you back?” Saitama asks.

“It’s okay Mr. Saitama, Suiryu’s already promised to be our escort,” says Mumen.

“It’s part of my hero training,” Suiryu cheerfully explains when he sees Saitama looking over at him.

“That so?” Saitama reaches out, ruffling Suiryu’s hair. “Keep up the good work then. Make sure the two of them get back safe.”

Suiryu smiles, wider than Saitama has ever seen him smile – even wider than when Saitama had saved him and told Suiryu he was a hero.

“Will do, Saitama!”

“That’s Mr. Saitama to you, brat.”

“Saitama, you had a foreign-looking student in your kindergarten class, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, there was Boros. Why?”

Zombieman jerks a thumb over to the door. “Cause there’s a foreign-looking kid standing outside the building asking for you.”

Saitama sighs. “Of course.”

Zombieman raises an eyebrow. “You don’t sound too surprised.”

“He’s probably here to ask about Hero Patrol like the others.”

That prompts even more questions from Zombieman and Saitama ends up explaining the whole situation starting with Genos as the two of go to meet Boros.

“Wow.” Zombieman chuckles. “I knew your students were attached but not this attached.”

Saitama is about to say something in return but then he spots Boros and his guardian. It’s the same tall, thin gangly man Saitama’s seen before but now he looks stressed enough to possibly explode.

Saitama’s ready to go up and ask if he’s okay but that’s when Boros spots him and, with a jumping head-start, leaps into Saitama’s arms without warning.

“Lor – Boros!” The tall gangly man looks ready to pass out from mortification. “You can’t jump onto people like that!”

“Listen to your guardian Boros,” goes Saitama even as his arms go around to Boros to better support the child clinging onto his front. He has a brief moment of déjà vu and hopes his shirt will still be in one piece when this is over.

(Also, what was Boros’ guardian about to say earlier? It almost sounded like he was about to call Boros, “Lord Boros”.)

“You caught me,” Boros says in response. “Saitama, is it true we’re still going on Hero Patrol?”

Saitama sighs. “Yea, we are. Friday in A-city’s center park.”

Boros nods. “I understand.”

He makes no move to detach himself from Saitama even as Saitama expectantly looks at him.

“Lor - Boros,” his guardian hisses, wringing his hands together. “We must return to the shi – house before the disgui– for dinner! Yes, we still have to make dinner and we’re already running late. Very late.”

“Fine.” Boros removes his hands from Saitama’s shirt, much to Saitama’s relief and Saitama goes to put him back down on the ground. “I will see you on Friday then, Saitama.”

“That’s Mr. Saitama to you,” Saitama automatically corrects but Boros is already leaving, his distraught guardian close behind.

“So,” goes Zombieman when Boros and his guardian have disappeared from view. “Hero Patrol again, huh? You need a second pair of eyes to help you watch over the kids?”

Saitama looks to him. “You sure? You know how rowdy they can be. Not to mention, there’s going to be even more of them this time.”

Zomebieman shrugs. “More reason for me to help out then. And it’s not like I had any plans for this Friday, anyways.”

The kids liked Zombieman enough and having him around last time really did help keep things a bit more under control.

Saitama nods. “Alright, see you on Friday then.”

Zombieman grins and it’s the happiest expression Saitama’s seen on him since they started the week. “Can’t wait.”

Thursday morning before their first meeting for the day, Sweet Mask corners Saitama in the break room, a white envelope in hand and looking every bit like the idol his fans picture him as on his official web page (Saitama has many regrets and attempting to search up just how popular his boss was is one of them).

“We’re going suit shopping after work,” Sweet Mask announces. “I can’t have you wearing something that drab-looking to the party on Friday.”

 “I can’t do Friday,” he says with no small amount of glee. “Already got plans.”

Sweet Mask’s expression twists. “Cancel them, they can’t be all that important.”

Saitama stands his ground. “No can do. I already promised a bunch of people – “ Technically, a bunch of kids but Sweet Mask didn’t need to know that. “ –and I can’t bail on them now.”

“Hm.” Sweet Mask’s sneer turns contemplative. “Refusing to break promises that you have already made – an essential characteristic of a powerful hero.”

“Thanks?” Saitama really doesn’t get his boss; one moment he looks like Saitama just made him step into a restaurant without five stars and a wait staff attending to your every need and the next, he’s praising Saitama for standing up to him.

“Very well.” Sweet Mask tosses the envelope into the trash can. “You won’t be attending the party.”

Saitama brightens. Maybe he was finally getting through to his boss. “Great. So you don’t need to drag me to – “

“Instead,” Sweet Mask continues. “I will be attending your event – the one you have decided to host – instead.”

“What?”

Saitama had thought that telling Sweet Mask that all he was doing on Friday was taking his former students (plus one not-really student but who still insisted he was part of Saitama’s class) around A-city for a couple of hours would change Sweet Mask’s mind about wanting to join but it does the opposite.

“Hero Patrol?” Sweet Mask repeats when Saitama reluctantly tells him what his students call their excursions out in the city. “A wonderful idea! It shows how truly dedicated and passionate you are to being a hero and leading the future generation of heroes.”

“No, we really don’t do anything,” Saitama insists. “We just walk around until most of the kids get tired, honestly that’s all there is to it.”

“Helping them improve their stamina I see. It is true that all heroes require a basic level of stamina to perform their heroic duties beautifully and perfectly.”

Saitama feels a headache growing. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Perhaps it would be wise to have Hero Patrol to become a mandatory part of the curriculum,” Sweet Mask murmurs. “The earlier they start doing it, the better.”

Saitama closes his eyes and resists the urge to punch his boss.

As a last resort, Saitama tells Sweet Mask that Zombieman already offered to come with him to help with Hero Patrol. He figures with how blatantly hostile his boss is towards Zombieman whenever they meet, he’d definitely be opposed to the idea of spending time with him anymore than necessary.

Right?

Instead, his boss becomes even more determined to participate in Hero Patrol – he demands to know what days Saitama usually does Hero Patrol and immediately calls up his manager to cancel all his scheduled events on Tuesdays and Fridays for the next month.

“Dude, I’m just taking a bunch of kids on a walk around the city. You really don’t need to come.” Saitama tries very hard to emphasize on how absolutely unnecessary it was for his boss to come along.

Sweet Mask glares at him. “Yet you agreed when that zombie offered to help you.”

“The kids like him,” Saitama argues. “They’ll listen to him.”

“You don’t think I’m not just as capable of keeping several unruly children in line?” Sweet Mask demands.

If Saitama was being honest, no.

“You’d intimidate them,” says Saitama instead. At the very least, Saitama can imagine Sweet Mask scaring King.

Sweet Mask sniffs. “Nonsense. I’ve been ranked the most desirable idol and most popular Hero Education Board member three years running.”

(Saitama’s tempted to point out that those rankings were all thanks to middle school and high school students who adored a pretty face more than anything else and did not reflect, whatsoever, the opinion of children younger than that.)

“Now, since we’ll no longer be attending the party on Friday, we can cancel suit shopping tonight,” continues Sweet Mask.

Saitama brightens, thinking there might be hope yet.

“Instead, we’ll be going out for dinner. Would you prefer French or German?”

Saitama groans, his hopes immediately dashed.

Minutes before his boss drags him off to dinner at some upscale restaurant whose name Saitama wouldn’t even be able to pronounce, an explosion goes off in the front courtyard.

There’s an immediate scramble and commotion as several of the Hero Board members begin barking orders and demands for an explanation, which also takes Sweet Mask’s attention off Saitama. Enough for Saitama to look out the window into the courtyard and spot a familiar purple scarf as well as a head of horn-like hair.

Saitama’s out and heading towards the courtyard before his boss has even realized he’s gone.

“Alright,” Satiama loudly says in his Teacher Voice, Sonic tucked under his right arm and Garou tucked under his left. “First things first, what are you two doing here?”

“I am your rival Saitama!” Sonic declares, flailing slightly in an attempt to swat at Saitama with his sword. Saitama dodges each swipe without blinking and lightly jostles Sonic enough to make him green in the face and drop his sword.

“What are you doing here Sonic?” Saitama asks again.

“I am here…to challenge you…” Sonic manages to mumble out between heaving breaths. His hand goes up to his mouth and Saitama briefly panics, looking around for a nearby trash can but the moment passes when Sonic takes a deep breath but doesn’t vomit. He simply slumps forward in Saitama’s hold, a sign that he’s given up this time.

“I won’t lose next time,” the black bundle of weariness and defeat promises. “Come tomorrow, when you’ve let your guard down while playing hero, I shall be the one to strike you down!”

Saitama sighs. “So this is about Hero Patrol.”

Garou, who had been silent throughout the ordeal, suddenly perks up. He looks ready to say something but when Saitama notices and looks over to him, he clamps up and doesn’t meet Saitama’s eyes.

Saitama doesn’t say anything, lets Garou remain silent and turns his attention back to Sonic.

“If you don’t know already, we’re meeting in A-city’s center park for Hero Patrol tomorrow. If you want to come, don’t be late.”

“I will defeat you,” Sonic wheezes, to which Saitama takes as confirmation. He begins wiggling in Saitama’s arm, which Saitama takes as a sign to let go.

Sonic drops to the ground and it makes Saitama think of a sullen kitten with it’s hackles raised and hissing. “I expect cookies tomorrow.”

“Sure, sure,” Saitama promises. “The ones with extra chocolate chips in them, right?”

Sonic doesn’t say anything, only turns his nose up before disappearing in a flash but Saitama’s gotten so used to Sonic refusing to speak what he feels and running away when he gets shy that he doesn’t think twice about it.

He turns his attention back to Garou, who hasn’t moved from his place against Saitama’s side and is still refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going to ask why you two were here –“ Because you definitely won’t give me a straight answer. “ – But if you want, you can join us for Hero Patrol.”

Saitama feels Garou freeze. He still won’t meet Saitama’s eye. It occurs to Saitama that Garou might be afraid to look at him.

Despite this, Garou pretends he doesn’t care. “What if I don’t want to? I’m a villain, after all.”

“You’re not,” Saitama says as he brings Garou up to eye level. Garou still won’t meet his eye even then, so Saitama relents and brings Garou forward, letting Garou rest his head against his shoulder.

He feels tiny hands clutch at his jacket and when Saitama begins to unconsciously rub at Garou’s back like he does with King when trying to console him after a crying fit, Garou’s hands tighten and feels Garou bury his face ever deeper into his shoulder.

“If you want to be a hero,” Saitama quietly murmurs to the small, afraid child in his arms. “Then be one. Anyone can.”

Something wet seeps into Saitama’s jacket but Saitama says nothing of it and continues to hold the crying child.

The next day, while doing a head count of all the children in the park and simultaneously mediating between Zombieman and Sweet Mask so they don’t maim each other and bleed all over the kids, Saitama makes a note of a familiar, small form curled up among the branches of the park’s biggest tree.

“Is this everyone?” Zombieman asks, King already seated on his shoulder.

He shoots a smug look at Sweet Mask who glowers at him while the rest of the children give Saitama’s boss a wide berth and avoid his eyes.

The form hidden in the tree shifts into a standing position but so smoothly and silently that not a single leaf in the tree is disturbed.

“Yea.” Saitama turns around, instinctually holding out his arms to physically separate Sonic and Genos after Genos attempts to do his usual killer lunge at Sonic. “Let’s go.”

When Sweet Mask realizes his usual tactics of smiling and sweet talking to someone until they give him what he wants doesn’t work with any of the kids and they would rather talk with Zombieman, he turns to Saitama.

Saitama’s expecting his boss to gripe and demand that he make the kids listen to him but instead, he gets this:

“Saitama, how long do you plan on staying at Silver Fang’s dojo? Surely you don’t plan on enrolling there as a student?”

“Nah, I’m only there temporarily. Just until I can find an apartment in A-city.”

“You mean you haven’t found a place yet?”

Saitama half-heartedly glares at his boss. “You’ve been dragging me to all these ridiculous things ever since I was transferred to A-city; I haven’t had time to look.”

Sweet Mask looks considering, which is never a good thing for Saitama.

“If that’s the case, just move in with me.”

Like hell he was. “I like my own space, so no thanks.”

“My penthouse has several floors,” answers Sweet Mask, completely missing the point. “Would you prefer to live on a floor with a fireplace or no fireplace? What are your thoughts on an open kitchen?”

“Dude, seriously.” Saitama takes a step back from Sweet Mask, thinking that maybe if he distances himself it’ll clue his boss in that he really, really does not want to live with him. Seeing him every day at work was already bad enough. “It’s fine; I’ll go apartment hunting tomorrow.”

Sweet Mask frowns and it’s one of the fiercest expressions Saitama’s seen him wear. “And let you be homeless for another night? Absolutely not. As your boss, I should be taking full responsibility. And why in the world didn’t you come to me about this earlier? If you had trouble finding a place after Z-city closed down you should have contacted me first.”

“First off, I’m not homeless – “ Saitama begins to protest.

“Teacher!” Genos is suddenly by Saitama’s feet, his eyes glowing. “If you don’t have a place to stay, you can stay with me!”

“Genos, no – “

“What?” Fubuki comes barreling in now. “Mr. Saitama doesn’t have a place to stay? Then he should come stay with the Blizzard Group. We have our own headquarters and everything!”

“A headquarters? Fubuki - “

Sonic lets out a screech, coming to tackle Saitama’s head, his left leg smacking Saitama across the mouth and smearing cookie crumbs across Saitama’s face. “Prepare yourself, Saitama! Once you have seen my home in the mountains, you won’t be able to live anywhere else!”

“Saitama!” Suiryu cheerfully holds a hand up. “If you don’t have a place to stay, you can travel with me. I don’t have anywhere to stay either!”

“What do you mean you don’t have a place to stay?” Saitama demands, pulling Sonic off his face. “Suiryu, have you been living on the streets?”

“Well there’s my guardian’s house but I don’t really go there that often since I was traveling so much but I could probably find my way back if I really wanted to,” Suiryu explains, like he hasn’t just admitted that he’s been alone on the streets by himself.

“Our ship is very spacious,” Boros pipes up from Saitama’s right shoulder where he has crawled up to from Saitama’s back so he could be heard more clearly. “There are plenty of rooms if you want to stay with me, Saitama.”

“Your ship? Is that what you call your homes?”

Boros blinks, once. “Yes, because our ship is our home. We travel in it too.”

(Saitama chalks it up as another one of Boros’ foreign characteristics and doesn’t press but now he’s positive Boros’ guardian had almost said ship last time they met but had covered it up. For what reason, Saitama doesn’t understand since if that’s just a way for people in Boros’ culture to call their homes, then all Boros’ guardian had to do was explain that to Saitama last time.)

“Mr. Saitama is going to stay with me!” Fubuki yells, irate, stomping her foot down as she glares at Genos, several pebbles floating in the air around her.

“Teacher is going to stay with me!” Genos is just as unyielding, chest plates lighting up through his jacket and steam hissing out of his arms as his lasers begin to pile up.

“I wish Mr. Saitama could come stay with me,” King morosely tells Mumen, the two of them hanging back away from the others because King was too afraid to get in-between the other kids who were all stronger than him and Mumen didn’t want to leave him alone. “But my mom and dad wouldn’t like it. It’d be nice if Mr. Saitama could come over and play some games through.”

Mumen pats King on the back. “If you ask him, I’m sure Mr. Saitama will say yes. Maybe you can bring a game to our next Hero Patrol and you can play it with Mr. Saitama then.”

King perks up at the idea. “You think so?”

Mumen nods. “Yep! All you have to do is ask.”

King smiles, brightening up. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

King then turns to his left, looks up. “Do you like to play games, Mr. Zombie?”

Zombieman, who had been completely focused on the growing amount of chatter and mayhem surrounding Saitama just now, finally looks away from the quickly escalating argument between Genos and Fubuki while Sweet Mask continues to demand Saitama’s attention, to smile down at King.

“Can’t say that I do, but I’m sure Saitama would love to try them out.”

King continues to brighten. “Really?”

Zombieman chuckles and pats King on the head. “Yea, he seems like the type.”

“I’ll bring my games next time!” King promises, the prospect of being able to play video games with Mr. Saitama eclipsing any fear he feels towards the other children who’d be jealous of him taking up Mr. Saitama’s time.

“You do that,” encourages Zombieman, just as Saitama reaches his limit and begins yelling for everyone to give him space.

Taking that as their cue for the end of break, Zombieman leans down to scoop King back up on his shoulders. Seeing this, Mumen runs to his tricycle.

“Let’s keep going,” Zombieman says once King’s secured on his shoulder and Mumen’s biked his tricycle over to them. “A-city isn’t going to patrol itself.”

Hero Patrol continues as Saitama expected it to.

That is, to say, it’s an absolute train wreck and Saitama’s infinitely grateful for how peaceful A-city is compared to Z-city because he knows – with absolute certainty – that if it wasn’t, he would have lost every single one of the kids to at least some incident already with how little he’s able to focus on actually being able to supervise them.

Sweet Mask refuses to stop pestering him about moving in with him, he has to continuously mediate between Genos and Fubuki so they don’t start fighting, Sonic won’t stop yelling in his ear and Boros continues to be at risk of falling off his back whenever his grip loosens on Saitama’s jacket.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, Saitama continues to keep track of a small figure hiding in the shadows nearby. In the trees, when they’re available and if they’re not, in the alleyways close by or on rooftops.

Sometimes, he sees the shadow disappear for several minutes before returning again. Each time the small figure returns, it’s accompanied by a distant wail of police sirens, or a police officer running by, murmuring into their walkie talkie about picking up another purse snatcher or mugger nearby.

Saitama hides a smile and thinks that he didn’t have anything to worry about after all because even if all the heroes he had with him on the streets today didn’t actually do any patrolling today, there was still a hero nearby that could watch their backs and pick up the slack.

At long last, Hero Patrol ends but Saitama’s battle with his boss continues.

Sweet Mask, like all the other times, refuses to take no for an answer and looks ready to bodily drag Saitama back to his penthouse if he didn’t move. That wouldn’t bode well for him as both Fubuki and Genos have refused to budge either, each of them clinging onto a different leg as they continue to insist that Saitama goes back with them.

Even Boros, whose usually nodding off at this time at the end of Hero Patrol, has latched onto Saitama’s right shoulder and continues to tug on the fabric there, saying that Saitama should return with him to his ship.

Sonic finally decided to leave for the night after Saitama threw him off his face a fifth time, doing his usual spiel of getting his revenge and defeating Saitama the next time they met before disappearing in a black and purple blur into the night.

Suiryu had pouted when he saw that he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edge-wise against the combined forces of Sweet Mask, Genos and Fubuki so when King shyly asks if Suiryu can walk them home since it was getting dark and scary and Mr. Zombie couldn’t come with them since he had to “try and woo Mr. Saitama and get more romance points so he wouldn’t lose to the scary love rival”, Suiryu accepts.

(He ignores the point about why Mr. Zombie couldn’t walk with them, deciding that he doesn’t want to get involved with that. He’s only interested in impressing Saitama as his disciple by being a good hero, after all.)

“Let’s get some takoyaki on the way back,” Suiryu suggests. “I know a really tasty place in C-city.”

“Okay!” Mumen and King excitedly agree.

“Bye Mr. Saitama!” they call out in unison, waving.

Saitama manages a quick wave back to them and a, “Careful on your way home!” before the others begin clamoring for his attention again.

Salvation comes to Saitama in the form of the children’s guardians and Bang coming to find Saitama since he still hadn’t returned to the dojo for dinner.

Genos is still glowering when Dr. Kuseno picks him up, promising him that they can go over the new upgrades Genos had been asking about since Monday and Tatsumaki sneers at Saitama but doesn’t do anything more than that as she takes Fubuki’s hand. Both of Boros’ guardians offer a hasty greeting before they frantically usher Boros away, the tall lanky one hissing something about “disguises almost at their time limit” while the bulkier one whose head was constantly twitching left and right as he muttered under his breath about getting the “ship in distance” as they disappear around the corner down the street.

Bang simply drags Saitama away and Sweet Mask and Zombieman aren’t able to protest and Saitama’s never been so relieved to have connections with the Hero Education Board.

“I owe ya, old man,” Saitama mutters as they walk away.

“Think nothing of it, Saitama-kun,” Bang assures him. “It’d be cruel for me to leave you with Sweet Mask any longer. Especially since we’re having hot pot tonight. My brother even brought over some lobster.”

“Seriously? Oh man that’s amazing – I haven’t had lobster in ages.”

Saitama brings up the topic of apartment hunting in the midst of hotpot, when most of the lobster’s already been eaten and they’re just picking through the leftover cabbage still stewing in the clay pot.

Bang suggests putting in a request with the Hero Education Board for housing placement: for convenience, the Hero Education Board headquarters contained a living quarters that provided temporary accommodations for board members from other cities visiting as well as more permanent homes for A-city Hero Board teachers and Board members.

“From what I’ve heard, rent’s also covered as well. The only thing you’d have to pay for would be utilities and such.”

“Huh.” Saitama looks contemplative. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Wouldn’t really have to worry about waking up on time either.”

“They should be open tomorrow morning. If you put in a request tomorrow, I’m sure they can get you placed within the week.” Bang grins, his wrinkles deepening slightly as he does. “Although my dojo’s doors will always be open, if you’re interested in joining.”

Saitama huffs. “No thanks, old man. I’ll be sure to talk with the Board tomorrow and then I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

True to his words, Saitama heads to the Hero Education Board headquarters the next morning and puts in an application for housing.

The lady at the desk assures him that he’ll receive a response to his request within three business days so with nothing else to do for the day, Saitama decides to take a walk around A-city.

Halfway through his walk, he gets hungry and stops by a nearby takoyaki stand run by a man in a gorilla suit.

At least, Saitama thinks it’s a man in a gorilla suit but whatever technology they were using for the suit was awfully realistic because the suit looked just like a gorilla, down to the large fingers that absolutely dwarfed the takoyaki tray as the man in the gorilla suit placed eight freshsly made takoyaki in them.

…Why was a man wearing a gorilla suit selling takoyaki anyways?

Saitama brushes it off, thinking it must be a marketing ploy by the group running the stand and leaves after paying for his takoyaki.

He’s just about to dig in when a hand grabs his wrist and someone else takes the first bite of his takoyaki.

Zombieman grins at him, a little bit of leftover sauce smeared across the corner of his mouth. “Heya.”

Saitama frowns. “You’re paying for that one.”

Zombieman laughs, letting go of Saitama’s wrist. “I’ll do that better than that.”

He does.

Zombieman goes back to the stand, orders the special deluxe takoyaki Saitama had been eyeing but had been reluctant to shell out the extra two hundred yen for and a squid skewer, extra crispy.

Saitama looks at him, surprised. “How did you know I liked it crispy?”

Zombieman grins at him again and it’s an effortless thing, like he can’t think of anything in life that can make him stop smiling. “You mentioned it before, when we used to get dinner together. Speaking of which, how do you feel about picking that back up? City A’s got some great places to eat.”

“Hmmm.” Saitama scratches the bottom of his chin. “Maybe when the Hero Board approves of my apartment request.”

“That’s right, the kids and Sweet Mask kept mentioning how you were homeless or something.”

Saitama scowls. “I’m not homeless. Bang’s letting me stay at his dojo after Z-city got evacuated but I can’t exactly stay there forever unless I plan on being one of his students. That’s why I’m looking for a new apartment now.”

“Gotcha.”

Saitama squints at him. “Stop smiling.”

(He doesn’t.)

They part ways when the takoyaki stand owner – a man wearing glasses who calls Zombieman “Number sixty-six”, of all things – comes out from the house next to the stand, asking Zombieman if he could stay for tea and to finish their previous discussion.

Saitama waves him off, watching Zombieman disappear into the house with the guy in glasses. The gorilla continues to work on the takoyaki at the stand.

Saitama sees, from the corner of his eyes, someone move into a tree just ten meters away from where he is now.

Saitama doesn’t even have to take a closer look to know who it is and goes back to the takoyaki stand to place another order.

He walks until he’s far enough that he can’t see the takoyaki stand anymore and there’s no one else nearby, then waits for the familiar movement of someone in the trees. They arrive, a minute later.

Saitama holds up his tray of takoyaki to the tree. “Want some?”

Garou’s face pops out from the leaves, sneering. “Why?”

“As thanks,” Saitama explains. “You worked hard during Hero Patrol.”

Something flickers across Garou’s face too quickly for Saitama to discern but he doesn’t have to because Garou snatches the takoyaki from Saitama’s hands, lightning quick as though he’s afraid Saitama will change his mind and take it back.

(Which is silly, because Saitama had bought the takoyaki for Garou in the first place.)

“You did well,” praises Saitama, looking up into the tree branches. He can’t quite see all of Garou through the leaves but judging by the sound of his rapid chewing, he’s enjoying his treat. “If you keep it up, I’ll treat you to two trays of takoyaki next time.”

Something shoots out of the tree – an empty tray that hits the trash can with exact precision. Garou's face pops out from the leaves again, still sneering but it was hard to appear intimidating with sauce smeared all over your mouth and your cheeks.

Saitama remembers the hot chocolate and has to stifle a smile because he know Garou would definitely attack him if he mentioned it.

“I want three trays,” Garou declares. “At minimum. Watching over you heroes is tiring and I need fuel if I’m going to keep doing it.”

“I’ll think about it,” says Saitama.

Garou scowls some more but doesn’t leave like Saitama expects him to.

Probably got something else he wants to say, Saitama thinks and waits. If there’s one thing he’s learned as a kindergarten teacher, it’s that patience is sometimes all you really need to make a kid talk to you.

“I want hugs too,” Garou finally says after a long thirty seconds of silence and the words sound sullen, like they’re being forced out of him. He mumbles them too, so quickly like he’s trying to rip off a band-aid in the shadows of the playground, pretending he’s not hurt so the other kids can’t see his weakness.

(It must be difficult to ask for things, when you’re not used to people listening to you.)

But Saitama hears Garou, loud and clear, and he doesn’t laugh or look at him strange or – even worse – pity him with the wet, pained eyes that Bang would always have when he had to clean Garou’s scrapes after recess.

He simply raises his arms out – and waits.

Even though all Saitama can see of Garou is his face because of the tree, the rawness of Garou’s longing is almost a physical thing.

Even then, Garou hesitates.

But Saitama is patient. He’s a teacher, after all.

And then –

Garou jumps.

He leaps into Saitama’s arms faster than almost Sonic but Saitama still catches him and holds him with the same ease that he does with all his students who come up to him, demanding hugs and cuddles and sometimes just wanting to press their head against Saitama’s chest to hear the loud beating of Saitama’s heart, a constant rhythm that helps to lull them to sleep after a long, exhausting crying spell.

“You did great out there,” Saitama whispers into Garou’s hair because Garou refuses to show his face, burrowing it against Saitama’s sweatshirt like he never wants to see the light of day again. “Hero.”

“Welcome back,” Bang says as Saitama opens the dojo’s front doors. He squints when he catches sight of Saitama’s expression. “You look rather happy. Did the apartment hunting go well?”

Saitama smiles. “Something like that.”

Saitama’s approved for an apartment before the end of the week.

By next Saturday, all of his bags are packed and he’s saying goodbye to Bang in front of the dojo, a moving van provided by the Hero Education Board waiting for him at the bottom of dojo’s stairs.

“Come visit,” Bang tells him.

“I’ll try,” Saitama says, waving goodbye.

He looks up at the dojo, watching it grow smaller and smaller from the passenger seat of the moving van, waving one last time to Bang before the dojo completely disappears from view.

The apartment is small enough that Saitama can see his folded up futon in the corner of the living room from the kitchen sink when he washes his dishes or brushes his teeth. He can hear the TV from the bathroom when he leaves the door slightly ajar and can switch the channel on the TV from any corner of his apartment.

It’s comforting. It’s peaceful.

Saitama sighs, smiling as he leans back into his folded up futon, the newest version of The Sun Man in his lap and a talk show playing on the TV in the background.

He’s finally home.

Saitama’s peace lasts for approximately one week.

The first weekend after he moves in, he’s running from his boss while trying to get to the supermarket for a timed sale, then performing damage control with Boros’ two guardians as Boros and Garou start a kiddie brawl in front of the supermarket just as Saitama’s leaving with his on-sale lobster and cabbage.

He barely gets away with his lobster and cabbage intact and just finishes putting them away in his fridge when Fubuki comes knocking on his door to “recruit” him for her Blizzard group. Somehow, Genos and Sonic start fighting nearby while Saitama is trying to gently explain to a near-tears Fubuki – her two kiddie bodyguards looking ready to leap at Saitama with their kid-sized gorilla Halloween hands and eyelash curler – why he couldn’t join her group even though he really wanted to (he really didn’t), so he has to cover the three kids while yelling at Genos and Sonic to stop fighting so they didn’t blow a hole in the side of the apartment complex.

Tatsumaki comes over eventually to collect her sister and her friends but not before attempting to impale Saitama with some loose metal pipes that had fallen during Sonic and Genos’ fight.

(Saitama complains to Tatsumaki about her making holes in his shirt but considering it’s a step up from trying to suffocate him in a coffin of wet cement like last time, he thinks that she’s at least warming up to him.

The next time they have Hero Patrol and Tatsumaki comes to pick Fubuki up, she telekinetically throws several trashed skewers lying around at his head. None of them break his skin, something which Tatsumaki obviously knew since she merely smirks when they snap upon impact and Saitama resigns himself to the fact that Tatsumaki telekinetically pelting objects at his being will just be her way of greeting him from now on.

Convincing her not to throw things at him that would damage his clothes remains a work in progress.)

After calling up Dr. Kuseno and getting Genos picked up by him and then Sonic running off when he catches sight of two other kids wearing similar ninja garb to him – one with wavy blonde hair and the other with tall, near vertical black hair (Saitama finds himself relieved that Sonic has some friends he can play and not want to maim like he does with Genos whenever their eyes so much as meet) – Saitama firmly locks his apartment door and promises himself that he will absolutely not answer the door to anyone for the rest of the weekend.

Three hours later, he breaks his own promise when he looks through the peephole and sees Mumen and King standing on the other side, shyly waving and smiling.

King had brought a game with him as well as the console for it, with Mumen’s help. He had clutched at Mumen’s shirt while mumbling about how he really wanted to play some video games with Mr. Saitama since he mentioned it to Mr. Zombie during Hero Patrol but all of his other scary classmates were always surrounding Mr. Saitama so he had been too scared to try and ask but now none of them were around so would it be okay for them to play together now?

“Sure, why not,” Saitama says, opening his door and letting them in.

Saitama had never considered himself an extremely competent gamer but he did enjoy them. He wasn’t a great player but he was decent enough to get through most of the games he played so he was positive that he could handle playing on the same level as a five-year-old.

As he finds out half an hour later, he’s wrong. Extremely so.

The game over had flashed in front of Saitama for the fifth time in the past ten minutes but Saitama doesn’t even see it, having already given up on life as he smushes his face against his living room floor, wondering what his life has become that he’s losing to a five-year-old in a fighting game.

Mumen gently pats his shoulder. “It’s okay Mr. Saitama, no one wins against King in video games. That’s why his parents named him King.”

Saitama pointedly ignores the implications of those words and rubs his smushed face against the floor when King quietly asks if he would like to play something else instead.

The settle on some co-op adventure game that has them traveling through a world together. King obviously leads but Saitama tries – so damn hard – to pull his own weight even though King really doesn’t need him to. Mumen, the good sport that he is, cheers them both on whenever they get a rare treasure or defeat a particularly hard boss.

Feeling bad that Mumen couldn’t see the screen very well (Saitama’s TV was on the smaller size and he had never bothered upgrading because why bother getting a new TV when his current one worked perfectly well?), he sits Mumen in his lap after they finish beating the first world and since Mumen doesn’t complain about being uncomfortable, has him remain there for the rest of the game.

They play until the sky begins to darken and then Saitama helps King pack up his console and his games and walks them both home.

On his way back, he swings by an electronic store and picks up the console he saw King bring over today, figuring this way King wouldn’t have to bring both the console and his games over whenever he wanted to come over and play. As he leaves, he finds Zombieman waiting outside.

It’s near dark by then, with only faint streaks of velvet in the sky that’s near drowned out by the bright interior of the electronic store and their bright, neon glowing store sign and Zombieman who usually dresses in all black except for his ashy grey trench coat, would have been near impossible to spot in the darkness that the electronic store’s lights don’t reach had it not been for his bright red eyes.

They give him away before he even steps into the light of a lamp post just outside of the store’s range and catching Saitama’s eyes.

“Nice night out,” he says in greeting when Saitama walks over to him. His eyes then flicker down to the see-through plastic bag, sees the console sitting inside.

His lips quirk up. “I take it King finally got around to playing some video games with you.”

Saitama scowls at the memory of losing to King twenty times in a row and something about the way he must have frowned or furrowed his eyebrows must have been hilarious because Zombieman laughs: loud, unfiltered and clear in the night.

He placates Saitama, who was ready to walk away, with sushi for dinner, his treat.

They sit down at the small sushi restaurant Zombieman had found two weeks ago from a coworker and it brings Saitama back to when they used to do this every week back in Z-city.

He tells Zombieman about his hectic day and even grudgingly admits to losing to King when they were playing video games together (Zombieman had tried, very valiantly, not too laugh too hard at this. He mostly failed) and in exchange, Zombieman tells him a hilarious work story of how everyone had thought Tatsumaki had killed him during an employee Happy Hour when she took too many shots against Flashy Flash and how he put everyone into near cardiac arrest when he woke up two hours later in the back of an ambulance, groaning about how hungover he was.

Dinner ends with Saitama downing his second of mozuku and Zombieman watching him, smiling even though Saitama’s not even doing anything but lazily downing his mozuku and chewing on the few blocks of ice still left in his glass.

His eyes are bright, like rubies.

“This is nice,” Saitama murmurs, not expecting Zombieman to hear him.

But Zombieman does and he smiles even wider. “It is,” he agrees.

It’s not until Saitama’s tucked into his futon for the night, the mozuku clearing out of his eyes and feeling warm and comfortably full, on the cusp of dozing off, that he comes to realize that even though he’s no longer a kindergarten teacher, his life hasn’t really changed.

He’s still a teacher, and a Hero.