Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Smoke flayed the sky bare of all color, blanching the sunset’s once vibrant hues as the buildings below keeled over the last couple steel beams holding them up. As they buried the pieces of themselves in the earth, sending up great clouds of dust and shattered glass, Genos felt a remnant impulse to sigh - though he suppressed it easily enough and went to pull his fellow heroes from the rubble.

Another city saved.

Another city down.

He shrugged off his misgivings and told himself that those in charge of rebuilding could easily fix this.

As it turned out, he wasn’t exactly correct in his assumptions.

“A meeting?” Saitama grumbled, “And I wasn’t invited?”

“It’s only for S-class heroes, Master.”

“Right, right.” With an overly expressive sigh, the man threw himself back on his futon and muttered something about a nap before turning away to watch the TV. However, moments later, he casually asked, “What’s it ‘bout?”

“The last Demon-level threat we took care of. It appears we destroyed more than the monster would have on its own, by the board’s calculations.”

Tilting his head back at an odd angle to view Genos upside down, Saitama shook him a bit by asking, “What about your calculations?”

“... They are slightly worse, but I would not correct my superiors and injure the pride of my coworkers more than what has already been inflicted on them.”

“Mm.” Seeming to understand, the man returned to his program with a cursory, “Be back for dinner, will you?”

So it was with great annoyance that Genos watched the clock ticking steadily towards six with no end in sight to the lecture he and the other S-class heroes were receiving. Perhaps this was the annoyance his Master felt whenever someone wasted his precious time with extended explanations and excuses…

While he experienced a small amount of excitement at this sudden empathy he felt towards Saitama, it was immediately overwhelmed by confusion when Bang - the man presiding over the meeting - heaved a barely repressed sigh, and motioned for someone to the side to bring out what appeared to be a small metallic case.

“In summary,” the elderly man began, standing up to open the container, “We are at our wits’ end, and have decided to resort to elementary methods to teach you all to take more care in your strength…” He slowly moved about and begin gifting the heroes with small items that, while Genos couldn’t quite identify as they slipped into outstretched hands, he could easily witness the horror and frustration they caused along the line of men and women. He was the last to receive one, and finally understood when he realized the item was just an egg, and nothing more. Automatically, he adjusted his grip to be a bit softer and lowered the heat of his hands to the body temperature a normal human would have exhibited, before returning his attention to Bang. “You are to care for these eggs until the end of a two week period - they are absolutely not to be broken. If they are destroyed, you will receive another and a reduction in rank. The severity of this punishment will be judged based on what caused the ‘death’ of your egg. You may only begin to regain your original rank after you have gone two weeks without a ‘casualty.’ Is this understood?”

And so, understandably, there was a slight uproar, but it was hampered significantly by the fact that each hero was cradling their egg and trying very hard to gather things with which to pad and protect their now delicately shelled Hero ranks. Genos, uncaring, strode right up to Bang and held his new charge out, “I’m sorry, but I really don’t comprehend how I can possibly care for this - my hands, my arms, my very skin - are made of metal. I’m just a weapon. How am I supposed to-”

Stopping him from going any further, Bang simply took the egg with a roll of his eyes and produced a marker from somewhere in his coat. After drawing carefully upon the face of the shell, he nodded to himself and slipped the marker away before handing the little egg back to Genos.

He watched with amusement as the cyborg’s eyes widened and the lenses lit up with surprise and devotion. Immediately, the entire demeanor of his body softened towards the object and hardened around the edges as if to comfort and encapsulate it from any harm. “I understand.”

With a sigh, Bang scratched the back of his head, “I figured you would. Take care.”

“Oi, Genos! You didn’t come home after 7 so I just -” Saitama trailed off, glimpsing the telltale shine of light against metal hurrying by the doorway of the kitchen, “Started to make dinner for us…” He wandered over to peek down the dimly lit hall the cyborg had slipped into, “What’s up, man?”

“Ah, Master!” Genos moved out of his room, tampering distractedly with one of his chest plates, a slight furrow along his brow, “Sorry for being late, I had to go to Dr. Kuseno for an upgrade.”

“Upgrade?” With a bit more enthusiasm, Saitama grinned and walked back to the kitchen, trusting Genos to follow, “What was it this time? Anything that we can test out in a spar?”

“No. It’s a padded compartment in the area to the lower right of my core…” The cyborg paused his explanation to whip his apron on and adjust the temperature of the stove, “Master, you have to stir this, you can’t just let it-” Saitama shut him up with an intense glare, “Ah, I mean… Just let me do the cooking, you should rest.”

“Mm.” Leaning back against the wall, placated, the man watched Genos work, “So what’s it for?”

“Dinner - Oh. My upgrade.” Turning from his work and sliding the apron to the side a bit, Genos slipped his fingers into the gap between his chest plates and pressed some unknown switch. The plating slid back and opened up to reveal a clear padded compartment illuminated by the intense blue glow of his core. “The Hero Association decided that we should learn to care more for the things we protect, and that a two week simulation with an egg would be appropriate.”

“Uh…”

“Yes, Master?”

Raising his finger to point at the container, Saitama asked, “Why does it have my face on it?”

“Ah, Bang thought it would help me to succeed in this new training exercise.”

“...Why...” Saitama blinked, “Would that help?”

“Well… It reminds me of what I want to be able to protect one day.” Before Saitama could express being touched by this, Genos added, “And it does closely resemble you.”

“Are you calling me bald?!”

“Master - That is not what I meant!”

“How’s Mini-Me?” Saitama asked, tapping on Genos’ chest lightly as he passed him to get his coffee. As strange as the situation was, it had become customary over the past couple days for him to ask regularly how the egg was doing. Even though he still staunchly avoided using the horrific pun of a name Genos and Mumen Rider had come up with for it.

“Sens-egg’s alright.” Opening up the compartment, both men peeked inside to observe it, “I was afraid during my fight last night that I may have damaged him, but he stayed stable the entire time - and I managed to avoid flipping over even when I was thrown 17 yards…” He reached inside to open the glass compartment and take the egg in hand. He didn’t want to tell Saitama but he was almost certain that…

No. It wasn’t likely at all.

“He seems fine.” Tucking the egg back into it’s place inside his chest, Genos closed his plating up and returned to setting the table for breakfast.

“That’s good.”

A large reptilian creature swept an elongated arm out across the street, sending everything in its path flying towards a certain cyborg. Saitama was used to standing by and letting Genos just flip out of the way, but this time he watched as he curled into a protective position over his chest with one hand extended to try to blast some of the approaching debris away and lower the impact.

Protecting that damn egg.

Saitama wasn’t having any of this.

So without further ado, he simply jumped into the fray to end the fight once and for all.

“Genos!” He scolded afterwards, turning from the gore that rained down around them, “Why didn’t you run?”

“There was no conceivable escape route that wouldn’t harm Sens-egg.”

“Tch, you take these things too seriously sometimes…” Crossing his arms and striding forward, he leaned in towards Genos’ chest, “So, how are you?”

“...Are you worried for him, Master?”

“Not at all.” Saitama turned and started to walk away when he heard the familiar sound of Genos’ plating sliding back. Unable to control himself, he peeked over his shoulder to see the small egg bathed in a comfortable pulsing glow. Closing his eyes, he turned to hide the small smile playing over his features, “Alright, good. Let’s go.”

“How’s it without Mini-Me?” Saitama asked, settling down for breakfast, almost missing the way Genos tensed at his words. “Mm? Something wrong?”

“Ah, not at all.”

“You didn’t really want to keep that thing after 2 weeks, did you?”

“No, I was just thinking…”

“About?”

“Nothing, Master. Just eat.”

Saitama was about to eat the scrambled eggs when suddenly a thought occurred to him, “Genos…”

“Yes?”

“This… isn’t…” For some reason his stomach did an uneasy flip, landing wrong and making him feel nauseous inside.

“Isn’t what?”

“Did you cook Sens-Egg?!”

“No! Of course I didn’t!” Genos frowned, “I would never do that!”

“Oh…” Blinking down at the plate before him, he found himself able to suddenly see the eggs there as food again, “Good.”

“Master…”

“Yeah?”

“...Nothing.”

“You kept it?” Mumen Rider glanced at the small egg rocking with Genos’ steady gait, balanced in the hand free of grocery bags.

“I told Bang about the data I’ve collected, and he said I could…”

“Ah. Does Saitama know?”

“No, I have a distinct feeling he would pretend to be horribly upset if he knew I still had Sens-egg with me.” He tucked it back into his chest, making sure the plating folded evenly back over it.

“Well, he’s going to find out. You can’t keep it in your chest much longer, within a week or two it’s going to -”

“I know.” Genos barely repressed the urge to sigh, feeling a pang somewhere in his core where he really shouldn’t be feeling anything at all, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“... He’s not going to cook Sens-egg if he finds out, is he?”

“No,” Smiling slightly, he adjusted the bags in his hands, “He actually seems to miss it, even if he doesn’t say so. Oh, and thank you for helping me carry these back home, I would ask Master to help, but he can’t know about any of this.”

“No problem, just let me know how it goes!”

“Hey, man,” Saitama frowned over breakfast at his disciple, who was touching his chest in a very concerning manner, “You okay? Is your heart - core...thing alright?”

“Yes, nothing is wrong, but it feels as though something is… Oh.” His eyes lit up with sudden understanding. He reached into his chest and opened the plating there, revealing-

“Sens-egg?” He blinked in confusion, then tensed when he realized what was happening, “Ah! Genos, he’s moving!”

“Yes, I believe I was right after all.” Before the cyborg could do anything, Saitama reached over the table and opened the compartment, removing the quivering egg. A low but distinct tapping sound could be heard from within, and the man was so focused he didn’t even take note when Genos turned off the TV so he could explain. “I started to realize there were signs of life from within it after a day or two, even though the eggs weren’t supposed to be viable…”

He trailed off when he noticed he was seeing pure wonder light up his Master’s expression for the first time. His eyes had suddenly become more defined, yet not in the harsh detail they would obtain in the midst of a fight. Instead, they had grown distinctly gentle - awestruck, even. Listening closely, the cyborg realized with surprise that the man was holding his breath, as if afraid to disturb the new life in front of him.

Reaching over, he cupped Saitama’s trembling hands with his own to help steady him.

“Genos…” Whispering, not letting his sight leave the egg for a moment, he gasped, “It’s hatching. In my hands.”

Hands that could level mountains, could destroy any foe with merely a tap. They’d both watch things crumble and explode, shatter and devolve from just coming in contact with these very hands. Perhaps it was that Saitama had never noticed how gentle he could be when caring for his cactus, or how soft his playful taps or pats on the back were; but Genos couldn’t resist smiling at the way the man looked so innocently in awe of the creature being born in his palms. It seemed almost as if, just by hatching there, it had trusted him, giving him the greatest gift of all.

The shell bearing Saitama’s likeness cracked before finally falling away, shard by shard. Small bits of yellow feathers darkened from the damp interior of the egg emerged, along with pinkened skin. After a couple moments more, the chick tumbled out towards Saitama’s wrists. “Oi, Oi!” He whispered, hunching his shoulders and drawing his arms in closer to himself as if he could protect the small creature, “Don’t fall off, now.”

Genos carefully removed the pieces of shell from Saitama’s hands, allowing the man to move so he could maintain a better hold on the bird. He watched as it let out an experimental chirp or two, bobbing uncertainly around Saitama’s fingers, “She seems to like you.”

“Eh…?” Saitama didn’t look up at him for more than a millisecond, but his eyes were filled with confusion, “She?”

“Yes.”

“How can you tell?”

“For her breed, her primary feathers are far too long to be a male.”

“...You’re renaming her.”

“Why, Master?”

“You can’t name her after me anymore. She doesn’t even look anything like me!”

Genos could control most of the more human impulses he had, could pretend the sensations he felt were ghosts from years past that meant nothing to him. Coughing in dust clouds, sighing in exasperation, stretching in the morning, on and on the list went.

But in that moment, he could not control the small burst of genuine laughter that escaped his lips.

“Master, I’m afraid that she really does closely resemble you!”

“Huh? No she doesn-” He looked at the small chick as her feathers dried and lightened to a bright yellow laced with white, her pink legs and skin nearly a bright red as they peeked out of her plumage. After a moment of staring at her, he looked to his costume that he still hadn’t removed from their pre-breakfast fight. “Ah…”

The laughter bubbled up from a place Genos knew shouldn’t exist anymore for him, the feeling had to be simply psychosomatic - but he supposed it didn’t matter. He couldn’t fight the laughter any more than he could fight the tightening in his chest when Saitama was near, or the head-over-heels awe he experienced whenever his Master fought or said something amazing.

And just like that, he felt a million times lighter than usual, laughing until he felt sore, until he could actually feel his chest expand and contract in a satisfied sigh. The ghostly aspect to sensation dissipated into a torrent of vibrant life within him.

“I’ve begun to build a small house in my room for her, so you don’t have to worry about-”

“Eh? In your room? That’s not fair to her, she’s a part of our family! She has to be out here with us-”

“Master…”

“Hm?” Saitama looked up at his disciple, startled to see the emotion welling in his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“You… said our family…”

“...Shut up.”

“But, Master-”

“I said shut up! Now, what do we feed her- Oh god! Genos get the breakfast out of here - we can’t let her see the…” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Eggs…”

“Sir, she cannot comprehend the connection between herself and our breakfast.”

“We don’t know that-”

“Yes we do.”

“She could become emotionally damaged from this! Move it to the kitchen immediately!”

“Yes, Master.” Genos smiled affectionately and gathered up the plates to move them.

He pretended not to hear Saitama in the other room when he whispered, “Hey, welcome to the world, Sens-egg… We’re gonna have to find you a name as cute as you are sooner than later, you know, Sens-egg is totally unfitting...”

“Tamago!” Saitama swept the small chick up off the grocery’s tile flooring, “Don’t go running off like that!”

As the man placed her in the pocket of his oppai hoodie, Genos nudged his shoulder playfully, “Tch. You take these things too seriously sometimes, you know.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“I think so.” Genos smiled, reaching out for the chick, “Here, she’s getting anxious with all the people around.”

“Fine…” Reluctantly, Saitama handed her over so Genos could hold her close to his chest, immediately calming her as she listened to the sound of the core running within, barely muted by the matching oppai sweater. “Not fair. It’s not my fault she wasn’t incubated in my chest.”

“She likes your voice though.”

“Huh? Really?”

“Yes, I’ve noticed she calms immediately upon hearing it.”

Never before had Genos both deeply regretted and revered something he’d said. 

Chapter Text

“Genos, could you… stop him?” Dr. Kuseno asked as he carefully repaired the cyborg’s torso after one of their more difficult battles.

Looking to the corner of the operating room, Genos couldn’t help but smile, “I would never dare.”

With an exasperated sigh, Dr. Kuseno grumbled, “But he’s been reading those manga to her nonstop since you got here - it’s been 3 hours. If I have to hear anymore about titans or walls or angsting teens I’m going to have a fit…”

“Please bear with it a bit longer, Doctor. I know the content isn’t the best, but his voice…” Embarrassment jammed his throat, preventing him from speaking any more.

Quick to understand, Dr. Kuseno nodded, “You idiots and your baby chicken. Why did you have to fall in love with him and give me a bird as a granddaughter-”

“Doctor!”

“Genos? What’s wrong?” Saitama asked, looking up from his manga and the small chicken in his arms.

“Nothing, Master!”

“That didn’t sound like nothing. That sounded like he was insulting our kid.”

“Our-” Genos sputtered around static, flustered.

“Now, now. Let’s stop teasing the wounded, Master Saitama.”

“Oi, Oi! You don’t get off that easy, making fun of little Tamago! We’re having a serious talk after this!”

“How about over a homemade dinner? I miss Genos’ cooking sometimes, you’re a lucky man to have him as a housewife, you know.”

“Wife-” Steam filtered out of the junctions of his armor as Genos overheated.

“Sounds good. It'll be a family dinner.”

“Family dinner. That sounds nice… If Genos feels up to it…”

Both looked in concern at the cyborg, currently coughing up steam and scattered words.

“Seems to be a glitch in the cooling system…”

“I think we just embarrassed him too much, Doc.”

A small cheep of agreement came from Tamago.

“See?”

Sighing, Dr. Kuseno shook his head with a weary glance towards Genos, “You just had to love that moronic egg.”

After a moment of silence, with Saitama mumbling something quietly about what to eat for dinner with Tamago, Genos chuckled, “Which one?”

“Either.”

“It’s because they’re my moronic eggs.”