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Chapter Text

Chapter 1


It was two years ago. Two years everyone saw Saitama the Caped Baldy defeat the Monster Deity and achieve world peace. Finally everyone is aware of Saitama heroism and his unlimited strength or at least some people believe it.

Saitama fought the un-killable being throughout the world everyone manage to witness it. The S class heroes played their part bravery and marvelously. Everyone push out of their limit achieve new height of their own powers. Even our favourite green esper evolve her powers. She manage create an aura barriers for every single soul on earth protect them from further harm and she created a massive barrier to some location for people to take shelters.

The fight obvious still cause harm since every punch and powerful radiation blast from the Monster Deity still make a massive destruction to earth but esper manage saves wants left for us to rebuild and still have a place called home. A lot damage cause and a lot loss as well. However, we human as always need to keep moving forward keep surviving and keep on living.

Now Saitama 27 years old a very wealthy and eligible bachelor. Saitama quickly become heartthrob among many ladies. Saitama still remain indifferent. If he was younger when he had hair he would love this. He definitely would react different. After he fought Monster Deity the last best moment of his life. He remembered the last emotion he had make him truly human. “Exhilaration”.

He thought about it all the time. The feeling. He wish had it again. He feels bad about thinking such think. Welp meaning the whole world had to go another destruction and meaning his friends might not survive. He cherish them. Saitama knows because of them he gain some other emotions. He was not sure what isn’t but they help a lot making him felt a bit happier and a better hero but he felt he was still missing something. That exciting feeling he crave again but he tried to ignore it.

‘Nah it doesn’t matter as long everyone else was happy ‘.

Thinking about the fight. He remembered about the green hair esper. Tatsumaki if his not mistaken that’s her real name. She was the reasons everyone still here today. If wasn’t for her I might not see my friends again. She manage save them and everyone else on earth with her magic powers.

‘Heh, what a women’. He thought. I wonder what happen to her now. He never heard her that much after that. Never saw her in commercial too. Usually famous heroes would be advertisement everywhere. Government would milk that shit. He knows since he was a part of it too.

He remembered that she was in this one commercial when they had their first fight. It was so unexpected and out of character. He remembered he spit out his drink when he first time saw it on his TV. Who knew that short stack can be nice. “Heh.... she was kinda of ……. something”.

Saitama stops. He just realise he was walking along the road without looking which direction he was heading. ‘Damn, did he miss the supermarket. FOCUS SAITAMA, I need to get the best price deal before the queue in line getting long ‘. It was a New Supermarket one of the biggest in the world. It used to be his favourite supermarket in city Z which was destroyed long before The Great Fight. After so many years, their finally rebuild it. He can’t wait to shop.

He waited 1 hour patiently in the line with the rest normal civilian. ‘ Hehehe who knew King’s idea of  disguise works well for him as well ‘. Saitama wore a red cap and a white face mask. His top he wore a white shirt have writing soya sauce on it and grey shorts. He may looked boring and normal when without his yellow jumpsuit and not seeing his iconic bald head.

Another 30 minutes pass, almost near the opening time. He was ready to sprint to cut this people out of his way. He thought. “OKAY TIME TO GET SERIOUS”. He bends down taking running position.

 Suddenly, he heard loud screeching in front of him. He saw one of the people in line turns into a monster. He grow pair of extra 8 arms. His skin turns purple and grew suction cups all over his body just like a real octopus but this more ridicules looking and cartoony.

Saitama saw this he knew he needs to save the day punch the monster and reveal he is the Hero everyone adore. He was hoping today he could spending alone time buying groceries without people hovering over him. “Huh, can’t I get a break. What does a guy need to do can buy groceries without any trouble?”.

“BLOB BLOB BLOB, I am octupuss puss I waited in this line since last week and ready to shop and conquer this shopping mall and make it my own. No one will stop me!”. He wiggle his arm up in the arm. Saitama saw this. This monster not that dangerous. He just here to shop just like me but a little obsessive and selfish waited since last week. He turns into a monster because of that. Kinda lame.

Another thing he notice also since he beats the Monster Deity. Monsters got less and less every day. People just change into random weak monster due to stress or obsessive behavior. More or less tiger level. He doesn’t remember when the last time he got to punch a dragon level. ‘ Hmmm man I missed God level treat again’. He quickly realise what was he thinking. No no no. I don’t want that. I don’t want challenge. I want peace’. He quickly compose himself. But still should I punch this guy he seems harmless.

He saw the security guards come to the rescue well at least they tried. Saitama saw this took the opportunity not to do anything. ‘Yes, I don’t have to reveal myself ’. He smile a bit. He looks around everyone doesn’t seem to panic. Most of them just stand back and watch the show. I guess this people have the same thought as him as well. The monster pretty harmless and boring.

“Dude, get back in line. I don’t care how long u waited no one force u sleep here in the dirt. It won’t make a difference. Just because u change into a weak ass monster you can get special treatment. I DON’T THINK SO”. Said by random civilian. The Octopuss puss heard and got angrier. “ WHO SAID THAT COME AT ME NOW I SUCK YOUR FACE UNTIL ITS RED! Arghhhhh”.

The securities got more aggressive. They all pull out the stun buton and start attacking the Octopuss puss. The Octopuss puss start lunching his tentacles towards the securities and grabbing the stun buton and shock back at them. The monster start spitting black ink at the securities making them blind.

“ Argghh, help help I’m blind. Help me I need a hero please”. One of the security scream. The line quickly become a crowd. Looks like the situation gotten serious. The Octopuss puss, start spitting black ink at the random crowd. Everyone start panicking. Saitama saw this gotten annoyed. “Are you fucking kidding? Five more minutes just five more minutes and then it’s open. Why you have to make such a big commotion over something like this!”

Saitama clinch his fist and ready to puc………

Suddenly a green glow surrounding the monster and he froze. “ Hmph….. Do you really have to make a big deal over something so trivial? You not the only one here to shopping. You better behave or else I mush and turn you into Takoyaki got it Octi Butt”.

Everyone all eyes on Tatsumaki including Saitama’s. She float just above behind him. He didn’t realise she was there before. Did she waited like the rest for the opening? Wait does that mean she also wants to act like normal civilian.

Saitama saw her coming forward to the monster. She floats higher showing her superiority towards the monster and to the crowd. Yup, she diffidently not here in hero uniform. This time she wore a green mini fitted dress and the skirt flare above her thigh. The dress hug her body nicely showing off her petite hour glass body. She covered her green hair wearing a wide brim straw sun hat with a nice black sunglass to cover her green eyes.

She looks kinda the same as they last fought together during The Great Fight. Well at less her height. Saitama couldn’t see her face clearly since the sun started to shine a bit brighter making Tatsumaki silhouette glow radiant.

She gave a deadly glare at the Octopus monster with murderous intent. She lift up her right hand pointed at the monster. The monster started to shake. “whaat wait wait….. please please forgive me Tornado of Terror. I hardly do anything wrong I… I p-promise I won’t do it again”.

Tatsumaki look at him directly in the eyes. “Huh, too late I already decided to make you into a ball of Takoyaki”.

“W-wait please don’t kill me!” He started crying, begging for forgiveness and accidently wetting his pants. Tatsumaki rolled her eyes she got more annoyed by this weak monster. She change her hand gesture to clutching her fist giving her esper power to activate making the monster vibrate harder.

Suddenly, her fist felt someone else hand covering hers. She immedicably looking at this idiot who would dare touch her. She felt his touch was quiet firm was this supposed to be a challenge. She thought. She used her psychic powers to push the cap away revealing his bald head and can clearly see his bored brown eyes.
Both eyes lock on to each other. They immediately recognize one another glare. Saitama and Tatsumaki felt such a Déjàvu feeling. Saitama decided to speak up first with a low voice so the rest of the crowd won’t heard.

“Yo, don’t you think this is bit much. He was just making a ruckus no deadly intent. You don’t need to kill him”.  She look down thinking of situation just happen. Saitama notice her body relax a bit. He loosen his grip. Tatsumaki notice this she quickly pulls her hand away. She immediately drop her psychic power as well. Saitama looks at the monster checking is he okay. “Yo, I think you pee in your pants gross but other than that you all good?”

Tatsumaki quickly tries to change the subject.

She glare down to the securities. “What the hell were you all thinking? Trying to be a hero is it?” She scoff at them. They was still one of the security running around and screaming saying I’m blind I’m blind help me.

Tatsumaki using her psychic powers held the security down making him froze in place. One of the noisy civilian come forward and wipe of the ink at his eyes. “Dude relax it’s just squid ink it’s not going to make you blind”. Tatsumaki let go of her psychic grip.

She lowered herself to ground but not enough to touch it. She look at securities giving them a command. “Well aren’t you gonna cuff or tie down the Octibutt monster or something. Don’t expect me to do everything”. She rolled her eyes.

One of the big guys security come forward to Tatsumaki. “ Yes of course ma’am. It is nice to see our adoring hero helping us. We will take care of everything over here”. Securities quickly grabs the monster and tie him down.

Saitama pickup his cap that suddenly flew off well at least that’s what he thought. He sees a flashing camera and the crowds started to swarm over them. “Mr. Cape Baldy is that you or you prefer your new hero name Mr One Punch Man?”

Comes another civilian. “OMG OMG, can you believe it we got to see our strongest hero together fighting monster. This is amazing!” She held her phone making it live on her social media.

“Tatsumaki you look beautiful in that dress. Can you take picture with us”. Another random group of guys coming towards her. One of them come a bit too close to her liking. She can felt his shoulder touch hers as he puts one of his hand over her shoulder. She immediately jump by the touch. She quickly activate her psychic powers to push back the surrounding crowd making a circle around Tatsumaki and Saitama.

Everybody moves except Saitama of course. She knew she can never moves him with such small force. Saitama and Tatsumaki left in the circle. Saitama took another look at Tatsumaki as she begun to make herself levitate higher than his height. They both lock eyes a second time. Even she wore sunglass but he knew she was glaring him. Saitama raise his eye brown questioning her as she can read minds. ‘What are you doing here?’ She rolled her eyes at Saitama and respond with her signature “Hmph”.

She fly off to the sky until couldn’t see her anymore.

‘Weird I suddenly got to meet her again after all this years. I was just thinking about you”. Saitama look at the sky where she flew off.

The crowd immediately comes hauling back to him. “Welp so much for shopping today”. He quickly took off in super speed.

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It’s nice/ not nice to see you again. Let’s not meet again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

After The Great Fight Fubuki and Tatsumaki got along well. Fubuki finally proves herself to Tatsumaki that she was strong in her own way. She may not strong as Tatsumaki psychic’s powers that can lift mountains or stops the earth from rotation but she has improved in others criteria such as Organic Restoration, Energy Suppression and Organic Enhancement. Tatsumaki remembered how she healed and restored a lot of thousand innocent lives and heroes. Tatsumaki provided protection, sheltered and Fubuki nurse and leaded them to safety. She never been so proud when saw her in action at the time. Tatsumaki promised to gave space to her sister that she won’t disturbed her after The Great Fight.

To be honest Tatsumaki was kind of sad not able to see her as much as she wanted too but she knew she needed this as well so she can grow out of this controlling behavior. Even though, Tatsumaki does felt that Fubuki still have some tension with her but she tried to ignore it because she doesn’t want to make things become back to the old days.

-1 week before The Big Day

City C was where Fubuki’s new apartment was located, and where she also owned the building for The Blizzard Group Company. Tatsumaki had finally confronted Fubuki, asking for her help. Oh, how she wished she could turn to someone else, but there was no one. She had Blast, but that would be too weird and embarrassing. Besides, it gave her a chance to spend time with her little sister. It’s been a while.

Tatsumaki stood in Fubuki’s bedroom. The room was quite large with a minimalist interior. She had a king-size bed, which seemed too big for a single woman. Tatsumaki felt a bit uneasy did Fubuki have someone in her life? 'Does she have a boyfriend?' she wondered. Given Fubuki’s beauty, it wouldn’t be surprising, but then again, the main reason Tatsumaki was here was to ask for advice about partners.

“So this guy he propose to you and you just said yes? Fubuki raise her eyebrow. She was curious since when did Tatsumaki dated anyone or at least interested in other human being. I mean she was happy that Tatsumaki finally wants to settle down but she felt something fishy here.

Fubuki sat on her chair near the makeup table. Tatsumaki sat on her edge of the bed dangling her feet. Obviously, Tatsumaki not quite comfortable sitting there and Fubuki keep asking too much questions to her liking. Hoping she won’t expose much. “Don’t be ridiculous Fubuki. I dated the guy for a while and now he propose and I said yes”. Tatsumaki tried to response casually. “So you are here because you need my help for intimacy? Weird you guys never done it before?” Tatsumaki panicked a bit but she quickly respond. “Well he was very conservative and want it to make it special”. Tatsumaki cringe by her answer. Tatsumaki saw Fubuki’s smirk. “So you telling me both of you virgin right?” Tatsumaki shot her iconic death glare. “Don’t push it Fubuki”.

Fubuki quickly raised both hands, asking Tatsumaki to take it easy. “Relax, Onee-chan, I was just joking” she chuckled. “So, tell me, what’s he like?” Fubuki tried to catch her older sister off guard. 'Umm... he’s a man, and he’s 170 cm tall.' Not quite the typical answer, but this was Tatsumaki. Fubuki smiled at her sister, pressing further. “Okay, and what about his work? Was he a hero like you?” ' Tatsumaki swallowed hard, trying to avoid the question. “He was a hero, but now he’s sort of... retired”

Fubuki noticed Tatsumaki was off guard, not paying attention. She quickly used her psychic binding, pushing Tatsumaki onto the bed and locking her in place. Tatsumaki’s face went completely red out of anger. “What the hell, FUBUKI?!” Tatsumaki can easily override her sister powers but Fubuki spoked quickly, trying to comfort her sister before she’s going berserk. “Relax Onee-chan this is how is gonna be when you with a man”.

“Whaat?” Tatsumaki raise her head a bit looking at Fubuki.

“Yes Onee-chan, he will push and pin you down like this”. Fubuki looks at her older sister if she bought it or not. She seems not too responsive. Tatsumaki rest her head back down on the bed. It seems she still let me used psychic binding on her. Fubuki smirked. Oh she was going to enjoyed this. When will she have the opportunity to prank her older sister like this? Got to control her body and movement. ‘It is gonna be fun’. Fubuki admits she does still have a little petty revenge for Tatsumaki used psychic binding on her years ago.

“So tell me again what is he like and this time tried to describe his eyes maybe”. Tatsumaki took a deep breath. “He have two brown eyes and very very round…..” Fubuki listened how ridicules was Tatsumaki describing him. ‘Seriously are sure you even in love with this guy. She should be describing him like a love novel or something….. at least say something basic like he has kind eyes’. That’s how you talk about the person you love.

Fubuki noticed Tatsumaki struggling to find the right words to talk about her groom-to-be. She took this opportunity to make her next move on her older sister. With a swift motion of her right hand, she activated her psychic powers, surrounding Tatsumaki's arms and legs in a blue aura. She moves and spread her legs and arms making her laying like a star fish. She quickly adjusted her 4 split dress cover up the unnecessary part. She carefully watched Tatsumaki’s expression if she still in a good mood.

Tatsumaki felt her sister psychic powers pulling her arms and legs a little rough but she ignore it. She took a deep breath, trying to empty her mind. The idea of being touched made her uncomfortable, even when it came to Fubuki. Her sister had tried to hug her before, but Tatsumaki would usually avoid it. She wasn’t sure why she hated being touched, but with the wedding approaching, she knew she had to get over it. As she tried to distract herself from the uncomfortable sensation. She fumbled for more details about her future husband. 'I think he likes to shop... I saw him at'"

“Hmm go on” Fubuki tried to district her older sister as she started to tease her. Fubuki using her right hand activate her psychic powers making Tatsumaki hands as someone touch them. Tatsumaki hand squeeze back as her natural respond. Tatsumaki stopped talking obviously got distracted by this action. Fubuki quickly used her left hand and moving her bolster hovering Tatsumaki face and covering her peripheral vision. Fubuki quickly pulled out her phone started to record. This was the moment she waiting for!

Fubuki quickly drops it down on her. Tatsumaki’s mind runs wild and panicked. “FoBki ShtoP IT!”making her a bit suffocated.
Fubuki tried to cover up explaining. “He will definitely hold your hand and start to kiss you. Come on kiss it, kiss it One-chan!”

“Wait whaat?!” Tatsumaki panicked. The bolster pillow started hitting her face. “FUBUKI STOP IT!” Fubuki ignores Tatsumaki request. She start pressuring her older sister more.

"The bolster is tall enough pretend it's him and kiss it." Tatsumaki gave in, leaning forward to plant a small peck in the middle of the pillow. Oh, Fubuki loved seeing her older sister follow her orders. But Fubuki was just getting started as she began playfully hitting Tatsumaki's face and body with the bolster. "Relax, pretend it's him trying to kiss you. Muah muah muah," Fubuki teased, making exaggerated smooching sounds to mock her sister.

Tatsumaki realise what was happening. She activate her green psychic powers and override her sister’s. She immediately free from Fubuki’s grabbed. She stand up levitate herself pushing a powerful aura to all her surrounding making all the pillows and decorative flew different direction. Tatsumaki grabbed the bolster pillow and throws at Fubuki direction.

Fubuki quickly dodged, jumping to the side as her makeup table took the hit instead. “What the hell, Tatsumaki! You destroyed my stuff, and look at my room everything’s a mess!” Fubuki stood up, scolding Tatsumaki further. “This is exactly why I hate having you over. You always break something.” Fubuki could see Tatsumaki getting more agitated

“Excuse me you’re the one pressure me kissing a damn pillow and here making fun of me when I genuinely asking for help!” Tatsumaki folded her arms at her chest. Fubuki counters back. “It was light joke can’t a sister pranked her older sister a bit. Plus, no one was here it was just us it’s not that embarrassing” Fubuki tried to diffuse the situation as she quickly kept her phone inside her pocket dress before Tatsumaki notice it. “Hmph!” Tatsumaki reply as her usual manner.

“Alright, what is this really about One-chan? Fubuki tried investigate what’s really behind this situation. Hoping she can crack her sister and start telling the truth. “I know you to well this was not normal. I don’t even know you dated anyone before. I’m sure if you did like someone I would be the first person to know” Fubuki walked closer to her older sister hoping she started to open up.

Tatsumaki's shoulders dropped as she looked tired, struggling to maintain her facade. Fubuki noticed a few lines forming under her sister's eyes. She stared out the window, the sun was still shining brightly, and the weather was nice today. Tatsumaki dropped her psychic powers and sat back down on the bed. Fubuki sat right next to her, waiting patiently for her story.

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“What the hell, are kidding me what kind of idea is this? One-chan you can’t be serious. W-why would Hero Association asked you to do something like this?” So many questions Fubuki minds started to run.

Tatsumaki agreed that it was a fuckup for them to ask her to do this, but she had already fought so much. If only her sister knew how she had almost destroyed City A, but Blast had intervened just in time. She remembered her idol Blast, he was the actual reason this was even happening. He said it was fate that it needed to happen... Of course, Tatsumaki couldn’t tell Fubuki that it was actually Blast making the request. Fubuki had always hated Blast. The Hero Association was just there to provide financial support and facilitate the contracts

Fubuki waved her hand in front of Tatsumaki's face. “Hello there, so what’s next? You get married to this hero and have a super baby to fight the Monster Deity?” Tatsumaki looked at Fubuki. “What, No! It’s more like the baby is supposed to be a savior or something. I don’t know all the details, okay? He said he can't reveal much because it’s about the future or whatever...” She scoffed at Fubuki

Fubuki still wasn’t sure was Tatsumaki telling her the whole truth. ‘He?… Who are you referring too?’
Tatsumaki realise she accidently slipped up. Dammit, she was careful too in the beginning. Standing up, she used her psychic powers to put everything back in place except the broken makeup table. She would just buy a new one for her. Fubuki noticed, sensing that Tatsumaki was trying to avoid her question. 'I knew something wasn’t right’.

“So, can you at least tell me who this hero is, since they also agreed to do this so nonchalantly?" It's not that Tatsumaki isn't cute, but she’s definitely not the friendliest person to have as a roommate. Plus, marriage is a big deal! It's not something you do for a short time. What kind of hero would be dumb enough to accepted this and take on the responsibility of impregnating my sister? Ugh, gross just thinking about it.

Tatsumaki hesitated to answer Fubuki question. She knew she would hate her guts if she found out who the hero actually was. Fubuki looked at her sister. “Well, who is my future brother in law?”

Tatsumaki looked down at her lap, both of her hands gripping her dress. She almost whispered it, but Fubuki caught it right away since it was the name of Baldy, her old crush.

“Saitama” Tatsumaki glanced at Fubuki, searching for some kind of response.

Fubuki stood up, shock the realization it was him. She should have known it was him! Tatsumaki had been describing him since the beginning. Walking over to the bedroom window, she looked down at the city park. She saw a couple walking hand in hand, smiling happily in each other’s company. Across the street, another couple strolled by with a baby stroller, and she smiled at the sight of them together with their little one. She wondered if Tatsumaki would be happy too if it were Saitama by her side.

She had known him for a while now and remembered how she first discovered him. He was a bit of an airhead, but undeniably strong. She had tried to recruit him into the Blizzard Group multiple times. There was that one fight they had, he had protected her from Tatsumaki’s wrath, and she didn’t know what might have happened to her crew or herself without him. Tatsumaki could be mean, harsh, and obsessive at times. But after that confrontation, Tatsumaki seemed more relaxed, and their relationship gradually improved. She even remembered when Tatsumaki made a whole commercial because of him. A smile spread across her face.

Even during the Great Fight, they both proved to be strong, and of course, Tatsumaki wanted to take on the big boss. Comically, Saitama beat her to it first. It wasn’t a race, it just happened to be the right time and moment. Fubuki was glad it was Saitama who fought the Monster Deity, she didn’t know what would have happened if it were her sister in that position. But she remembered how well they worked together. He was the sword, and she was the shield.

After the fight, Tatsumaki laid low, becoming less visible and less active. Fubuki appreciated her older sister’s effort to be the best sibling she could, and how she was trying to improve herself. But Fubuki also knew that some scars never healed. Tatsumaki kept ignoring her own pain, burying it deep inside. To be honest, Fubuki hadn’t seen her sister smile in ages, especially with the decline in monster threats. She guessed Tatsumaki didn’t know what to do after dedicating her whole life to fighting.

'She really needs to get laid,' Fubuki smirked at the thought.

"'Fubuki, please say something,' Tatsumaki's voice sounded sad, pulling her sister out of her thoughts. Tatsumaki looked at Fubuki with a hint of vulnerability. She hoped she hadn’t broken her sister’s heart. The last thing she wanted was for them to grow apart again. Even though their relationship wasn’t perfect, she wanted to keep what they had now.

Fubuki turns back to Tatsumaki giving her a small smile. “Sure, Onee-chan, I’ll help you with whatever you need, but I don’t support the Hero Association doing this to you. Since when do they have the power to decide who can marry who? And if the public found out, they’d definitely boycott the Hero Association.”

“I told you, I have to do this for the sake of the world, Hell probably the universe, you remembered how the fight went. I don’t think we can survive it again” Tatsumaki tried to explained.

“Are you kidding me? We still have Saitama, the One Punch Man, the hero beyond number one. He even outranks Blast! They can’t even make a new ranking because he’s so strong,” Fubuki counter back.

“You’re forgetting something. Blast was the one who sealed the Monster Deity back to a micro universe. Saitama only weakened it. Even Blast said he’s not sure Saitama could defeat it again without destroying the universe. What’s the point of winning if we can’t survive to see it?” Tatsumaki’s patience was wearing thin. If Fubuki kept rejecting her, she’d have to do this alone something she had done countless times before. But this time, she desperately wished she didn’t have to. She needed her little sister’s support.

Tatsumaki was ready to walk away when Fubuki called out, “Wait, Onee-chan!” Tatsumaki turned back to face her.

“Are sure you want to go through this? I mean I would love to be your maid of honor but I just wish it was different circumstances, you know” Fubuki’s gaze softened as she looked into Tatsumaki’s eyes. She saw sadness and loneliness. Maybe this marriage wasn’t such a bad idea. Tatsumaki was turning 30 this year. Still, Fubuki didn’t like the whole 'super baby' plan for the sake of the world. She refused to believe in that kind of mumbo jumbo.

Tatsumaki put on a smile for Fubuki. ““Yes, Fubuki, of course, I want you to be my maid of honor. Who else is going to help me pick out my wedding dress and cake?”

“Can I pick the flowers too?” Fubuki smiled back.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t even know much about weddings. You’re the one who likes that kind of stuff.”

Fubuki folded her arms. “So, when’s the big day? Do you have a date?”

Tatsumaki hesitated. “Umm… about a week from now.” She clenched her jaw, bracing for Fubuki’s reaction.

“What the fu—? Onee-chan, that’s way too fast!”

They both agreed it was indeed too rushed, but Tatsumaki had already signed the contract. And Blast… she couldn’t bear to think about him without feeling a wave of disappointment.

“Yeah, but I found out Egghead signed the contract first like 2 weeks ago. Looks like he had no hesitation about it. That’s what makes him the better hero, I guess… and I should follow through too. He can’t do this without me… hehe,” Tatsumaki tried to make light of the situation, but Fubuki only looked more concerned.

Fubuki stepped closer, and Tatsumaki knew a hug was coming. She mentally prepared herself for the embrace, making sure to levitate to Fubuki’s height to avoid the awkward chest situation. Fubuki closed the gap, giving her a quick hug.

‘Thank God,’ Tatsumaki thought, relieved. She couldn’t handle long hugs.

Which back to the questions. How she was going to handle the wedding night?

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2 Weeks Before The Big Day

It keep blinking bright red color from his drawer. He forgotten that was even there. He decide to take a look inside which to his surprise his old hero communicator still working it thought was broken. He almost wants to break it how annoying it was disturbing his sleep. Who message him at 12AM.

‘Wait it might be monster level treat or better, it could be another party Hero Association throws’ His eyes wide awake now. He checked the message.

It was a symbol of infinity. He recognize this symbol. He remembered the old guy hero his name Blast. This looks serious. He decide to double tab it open. Nope no respond. He slide the screen, still no respond. Saitama quickly loose patient. He keep tapping it aggressively now.

"Arghh, I don’t even remember how to use this thing!" Saitama shouted, tossing the communicator against the wall, leaving a small crack.

"Great, well, I’ll just ask Genos tomorrow. Maybe he remembers how it works." With that, Saitama casually fell back asleep.

The next morning, Genos arrived at Saitama’s house, and King was there too, setting up a new game console he had bought the day before. Saitama and King were eager to play the new combat game, excited for the amazing graphics.

Meanwhile, Genos was trying to fix his sensei's communicator, which was slightly damaged. Luckily, it was just the outer cover that was broken, and the inside was still functional. After some effort, Genos managed to fix it and began reading the message:

"One Punch Man, Saitama, it’s been a while since we last fought together. The last time we met, the world was on the brink of destruction. Before something like that happens again, let’s meet up for a drink. My treat.
Come alone.

End of message."

Saitama listened as Genos read the message aloud. "Huh, it’s been a while since I saw him. Maybe I should meet up."

Genos looked at Saitama, concerned. "Sensei, isn’t it strange that Blast suddenly wants to meet after two years? And now he’s back in our universe? It could be a trap, Sensei."

King chimed in. "I don’t think so, Genos. Why would Blast want to trap Saitama? He’s a good guy, and Saitama is strong enough to handle anything. He’s more than qualified to take care of himself."

Genos, still skeptical, argued, "But he emphasized ‘Come alone.’ Isn’t that suspicious?"

King was about to counter, but Saitama interrupted. "Both of you, relax. Blast is a cool old dude. I’d actually like to see him again." In truth, Saitama hoped a new threat was coming and that Blast needed help. Maybe he’d get to fight another god-level threat in another universe. ‘Now that would be cool’.

"But Sensei, he specifically asked you to come alone. Are you sure about this?" Genos questioned as he handed the communicator back.

Saitama shrugged. "Nah, I’m fine going alone. He’s probably just a cheapskate and doesn’t want to pay for drinks if I bring more people along. You know how expensive drinks are these days." He tried to play it off casually.

Saitama quickly typed a response into the communicator, noticing Genos trying to sneak a peek. A quick reply from Blast came almost immediately, and Saitama gave a small smile. He’d be meeting him tonight.

Though Genos was still suspicious, but Saitama reassured him that he is okay and he should be too. After all, his sensei was the strongest hero One Punch Man.

Later, after Genos and King left around 7 PM, Saitama decided to wear a black shirt and his brand-new yellow "Niku" jacket. He was ready to meet Blast at a bar located near the edge of City A. For someone with super speed, it wasn’t far at all.

Saitama arrived at the bar, its old wooden exterior worn and weathered, like it had stood there for decades. The windows were foggy, and the dim, amber light inside gave it a cozy, nostalgic feel. It looked like a place from the past.

But once inside, the mix of old and new was clear. The wooden beams and brick walls gave the place a vintage charm, but sleek LED lights illuminated the shelves behind the bar, highlighting rows of modern bottles. An old jukebox stood in the corner, but instead of playing old records, it was connected to a digital playlist.

The bartender was an older man with a grizzled look, mixing drinks with the same skill he'd had for years, but now using a high-tech headset to take orders. The bar had kept its history but blended in just enough modern touches to stay fresh.
It was a perfect mix of old-school charm and modern convenience.

He saw pretty well build guy. He had spikey black hair wearing a simple black shirt and brown casual pants. He sat at bar counter talking with the bartender. Saitama casually walks over to him as Blast notice the steps. Blast saw it was Saitama. Blasted greeted him with a warm cherry welcome.

“Well the Man of the hour is finally here, It’s been a while Saitama” Blast give a fist to bum. Saitama accepted the fist bum back. He offer him a sit and Saitama casually sit down “How the world peace doing for you Saitama?”

“It’s good, but would be nice to have little hero work sometimes” Saitama looked blankly at Blast. Blast just smile and chuckled. “You’re bored huh?”
Saitama eyes wondered around as he was thinking to replay but it is true. He was bored “Yeah, a bit” shrugged his shoulder.

Blast smile at him again. “Yeah, that’s normal for someone who is strong” Saitama eyes went wide. He guess me.

As Saitama was about to ask Blast a question, Blast called the bartender to order drinks. “Bring us your best whiskey,” he said. Saitama glanced at him again.
“That’s pretty strong,” Saitama remarked.

“Why not? For the strongest hero, right?” Blast reassured him. The bartender brought two glasses and poured the whiskey, leaving the bottle at the table as Blast had requested. Saitama took the glass in his hand, while Blast quickly grabbed his and downed it first. Blast finally seemed to loosen up a bit, while Saitama just took a small sip.

“Saitama, do you have anyone in your life right now? Like a girlfriend?” Blast asked, looking serious. Saitama was a bit confused by the sudden question.

“No,” Saitama replied simply.

Blast still looked as serious as ever as he took another sip of whiskey. “That’s good to hear,” he said, his tone unreadable. Saitama, now even more puzzled, decided to finish his drink. He wasn’t too worried since becoming strong, his resistance to alcohol had improved. He could get drunk for about 15 minutes, then be back to normal.

Blast poured himself another glass and knocked it back without hesitation. Saitama watched him curiously, wondering if something bad was about to happen.

Blast finally broke the silence. “Saitama, I have a proposition for you. It may sound weird at first, but hear me out before you judge or make a decision.” Saitama looked at Blast curiously. “Is this about another Monster Deity in some other universe? I can totally help. I don’t mind going to a different universe,” he said, a hint of joy in his voice.

Blast laugh out loud. “Oh no, Saitama. It’s not exactly that, but the idea is similar.” Saitama’s confusion only deepened. Blast placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression turning more somber.

“It’s about saving the world from the Monster Deity. He’ll escape from the micro-dimension soon, but the world can’t handle another battle like the last one. Even if you manage to finish him off again, every hit you land and every hit he lands will cause even greater destruction. At this rate, The Universe will not exist anymore.

“So, how do I help this time?” Saitama raised a brow. Blast took another drink and slid a thick stack of papers across the table. Written on it were the words “The Great Experiment.” Saitama glanced at the title, unsure of what to make of it. Blast flipped to the next page and took a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Saitama, listen carefully. I’ve been searching for answers, diving into so many dimensions, looking for a way to stop the Monster Deity for good. But every solution keeps pointing to the same conclusion.” Blast’s tone grew more serious. “I have a prediction. I need you to consummate with someone strong….”

“Wait, what? You lost me at 'consummate.' What does that even mean?” Saitama looked at Blast, confused. “So, there’s fighting involved, right?”

Blast sighed, realizing he needed to simplify things. "Damn, I forgot he’s not exactly the sharpest. Gotta use simpler words," he thought. Taking a deep breath, Blast spoke again. “Saitama, I’ll just get straight to the point. I need you to get married and have, well... sexual intercourse with someone strong. Preferably someone with strong willpower and psychic abilities. This way, you could create a perfect superhuman who could save us all from the Monster Deity.”

“The marriage part is to cover it up for society. Unfortunately, our society is pretty judgmental. I don’t want people thinking you just knocked someone up and left her without any care. That would definitely ruin your reputation. So, the Hero Association will back everything: the marriage, the ceremony, the suit, the dress, the new apartment, money… bla bla bla.”

Saitama was lost for words. Is this normal? Should I just leave? But then again, Blast mentioned the marriage would be covered by the Hero Association. I wouldn’t have to pay a cent... Saitama was already lost in thought. Hmm, getting married to save the universe, huh? That’s new…

Blast kept explaining in detail why they needed this "super baby" to save humanity from the Monster Deity, but Saitama was too deep in thought, trying to figure out what to do. Should I get married? Or should I just run?

Marry or Run, Marry or Run…….

Blast continued explaining the contract, detailing who Saitama would be marrying and the reason behind it. They needed to consummate the marriage within the year, as the child needed to grow up within 20 years to save humanity. He explained why it couldn't be done in a lab or test tube—the power was too great for such methods... bla bla bla... "You two are the perfect power couple, people will love you together"... bla bla bla... "I'll talk to Tatsumaki"... bla bla bla... "I’ll make sure she agrees...."

As Saitama drifted off in thought, he remembered something from when he was younger a promise he had made. He’d said he would do it if he ever got the chance. After years of training and becoming a hero, he had forgotten about it. Huh, I did make that promise...

Saitama picked up the contract, turning to the last page to read the final clause. It stated that if they had the child and later decided to divorce, the Hero Association would still take care of the child until adulthood, training them to become a suitable hero.

"Am I correct?" Saitama asked.

Blast smirked. "Huh, you're not as dumb as you look."

Saitama corrected him. "I used to work as a businessman, so yeah, I know how to read the fine print."

Blast replied to Saitama’s earlier question. “That’s right, but I’d prefer if the child were trained by their parents," he said, referencing his own son, Blue. "It would be less emotionally damaging if they grow up with both parents by their side."

Saitama fell silent for a long moment.

"One more thing," Saitama said finally. "Can I add a college fund for the kid?"

Blast almost choked at the sudden, odd request. “Umm, sure,” he replied.

And with that, Saitama picked up the pen and signed his name.

Blast’s eyes widened in surprise. Did that just happen?

Blast kept explaining more details, but Saitama was already starting to feel sleepy. He remembered why he got fired. He was a bad businessman, always falling asleep during meetings.

Blast handed Saitama a copy of the contract, along with the wedding date and the profile of his future bride. Blast was very happy, not realizing how easy it had been to convince Saitama. He thought he might have had to fight him to get this done.

They parted ways, and Saitama walked home, carrying the documents under his arm. He decided to run, but accidentally tripped on some dog poop, causing half the papers to fly away in the wind. Saitama quickly jumped to catch what he could, but half of the papers were already gone.

“Ah... I'm sure the other parts weren't that important,” he mumbled, remembering the main details. That should be enough, right?

As he walked the rest of the way home, he thought, I wonder what she's like? Probably someone kind, with a warm smile.

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Marriage is fun right?

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're getting married in less than a week, and you didn’t think to discuss it with us first?" King slammed his hand on Saitama's kitchen table, eyes wide in disbelief. “When did you even agreed to this?” King questions some more.

Saitama just shrugged and scratched his ear. “Since last week I think…. It’s not that big deal, I’m not paying a cent and all will be sponsored by Hero Association.” 

Genos stood frozen, his brain struggling to process the news. His eyes were fixed in place, mouth slightly agape, as if his system couldn’t compute.

“Well, at least tell us who you’re going to marry. Is she pretty, at least?” King pressed, trying to get more information out of Saitama.

Saitama just shrugged. “I dunno who she is, to be honest… hehe.” He shrugged again.

King couldn’t believe what Saitama was saying. “You can’t be serious! You can’t just sign a contract without knowing or thinking about who this person is! What if you married some rondo off the street and she doesn’t even have teeth?” King tried to reason with Saitama.

“Yes, Sensei, I agree with King on this one. They must have given you a copy of the contract, right?” Genos finally broke his silence.

“Oh yeah, I do have it.” Saitama picked up the contract from the floor, right next to his manga collection, and handed it to Genos. Genos quickly took it and scanned through the document. King stood next to him, nervously awaiting the details.

Genos looked at Saitama, shocked. The contract was incomplete. “Sensei, they didn’t give you complete information about the bride. We must sue them for this inconvenience! How dare they think Sensei such airhead can deceive you like this” Genos stood up, his engine revving, ready to confront whoever was responsible.

Saitama held up both hands, signaling Genos to stop. “Whoa, whoa, Genos, wait. No one’s trying to trick me. The rest of the contract is missing because I accidentally slipped on some dog poop, and the wind picked up the papers and blew them away.”

King and Genos stared at Saitama, dumbfounded. “SERIOUSLY?!” they yelled in unison.

After a while, King finally understood what was happening as he went through the contract himself. Saitama had forgotten to mention one crucial detail. He needed to consummate the marriage with a heroine to create a “super baby” that would save humanity. ‘Damn, this is straight-up fanfiction level stuff,’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, half-amused. ‘I might actually enjoy reading it’

Genos was still perplexed about the whole situation but was ready to support Saitama no matter what. He knew Sensei would do whatever was best for humanity. He was, after all, the hero among heroes.

Saitama rubbed his neck, looking at them both sheepishly. “S-so, uh, you guys wanna be my best men?”

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Fubuki and Tatsumaki were at a shopping mall in City A. Fubuki was frantically searching for the perfect clothes for Tatsumaki's wedding day. By mean wedding day, it was for wedding night. Tatsumaki, on the other hand, wasn’t particularly excited to be there, especially knowing why she was dragged in the shop.

Both were in their civilian wear which was nice to be in public without hustle. The Hero Association had insisted that disguises weren't necessary since the mall was closed to the public. They were the only two there, shopping for everything they needed for the wedding.

Everything was being supported by the Hero Association which makes the younger sister even more excited.

Fubuki browsed through various lingerie pieces, some cute, some sexy, and maybe even a little wild. She held up a one-piece design, imagining how it might suit Tatsumaki’s body shape. But Tatsumaki turned her head aside, disapproving of her sister's choice. Fubuki grew irritated with Tatsumaki’s attitude.

"Come on, Onee-chan, at least try to look for something you like," Fubuki encouraged her older sister.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. "Why do I even need to buy this stuff? It looks like expensive cloth that doesn’t give much support anyway," she said, pulling a piece off the rack and pointing out how thin and flimsy it was.

Fubuki shot her sister an annoyed look. "Well, it’s not supposed to be supportive. It’s not like you need... support," she mumbled under her breath.

"What?" Tatsumaki asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I said it’s not supposed to be supportive! It’s more for... sleepwear before bed," She hesitated to explain the last sentence.

Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Fubuki, I'm an adult woman. Just say what you mean. I know what lingerie is for," she scoffed.

"Then why are you acting like you don’t? It’s weird that I have to explain this to you," Fubuki shot back.

"I asked why I need to buy it, not what it is, idiot. Besides, can’t I just wear my normal sleepwear?" Tatsumaki, visibly annoyed, crossed her arms.

"No, no, no! What you have are called pajamas, and they’re not attractive at all. You need something like this for your first night together. It’ll make you look sexy," Fubuki said, holding up another provocative lingerie piece with neon green color.

Tatsumaki looked disgusted. "Ew, gross. No thank you," she muttered, walking away and ignoring her sister’s suggestion.

"Hey, I want you to try this later, got it!" Fubuki yelled as Tatsumaki floated to another section of the store.

Fubuki continued her search for the perfect piece for Tatsumaki, thinking she might pick up a few things for herself too. After all, what the Hero Association didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Tatsumaki was browsing the store when she accidentally brushed past a silky crème-colored robe. She liked how soft it felt, so she stopped and picked it off the rack. It was short, draping just around her thighs. She decided to get it for herself. After all, not everything had to be about the wedding. As she continued walking through the store, she noticed it had some nice sleepwear too, but she preferred something comfortable that didn’t show too much skin. That was just her preference, considering she usually wore something cute and elegant in her everyday outfits.

When Tatsumaki returned to her sister, holding the robe over her arm, Fubuki immediately shoved a pile of clothes into her face. Fubuki was way too excited about this.

"Onee-chan, wear this, wear this! It’ll look so sexy on you!" Fubuki exclaimed, dragging Tatsumaki toward the fitting room, forcing her to try everything on.

On the bright side, Tatsumaki thought, at least she got to spend some time shopping with Fubuki. They hadn't done that in a while.

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Saitama was chilling on his sofa, playing a game on his phone, while King and Genos were busy searching online for wedding preparations. The computer setup in Saitama's latest house was much better than before. Of course, Saitama preferred a small apartment, but after receiving too many payments from the Hero Association and sponsors, he decided to upgrade and move to a bigger space apartment a bit. Not too big, not too small. He made sure it was just comfortable enough and too cramped when his friends came to visit.

"How to be the best man for your best bro..."
"Traditional Japanese wedding or Western style..."
"If you have two best men, who should be the ring bearer...?"

Saitama was still frantically playing his phone game when he suddenly got a phone call. It was Sekingar. Saitama answered casually.

"Hey, what’s up? Hmm, yeah, yeah, I know... I will, I will. I already picked two best men. It's Genos and King... Oh, I was wondering, can I bring my dog too...? No, he’s not a monster! How many times am I gonna explain...? Okay, fine, fine."

Saitama looked a bit annoyed and finally ended the call.

"Okay, thanks, bye..."

Genos and King stared at Saitama, curious about the call. Noticing their gazes, he decided to tell them about the wedding preparations.

"That was Sekingar on the phone. So, guys, no need to stress over researching wedding stuff because apparently, the Hero Association is handling everything. Most of it was chosen by the bride, so we just need to go for fittings."

King looked at Saitama, confused. "Fittings? For what?"

Saitama answered casually. "For our suits. We're doing a Western-style wedding. Didn't I mention that?"

King looked at him, deadpan. "No, you didn't."

Saitama stared back blankly. "Oh, well, now you know."

"What else are you keeping from us, Saitama?" King pressed him. Knowing Saitama's forgetfulness, King needed to dig deeper since he often forgot to share important details.

Saitama scratched his head, thinking. "I think that's all for now."

Suddenly, Genos had an idea.

"I know what we can do to figure out who Sensei is marrying!" He went back to typing on the computer, searching through a database of superheroes eligible for marriage. Both King and Saitama stared at Genos, wide-eyed at his random idea, but Saitama just shrugged and continued watching TV. King, however, was eager to find out too. He and Genos became a duo, searching for the perfect candidate.

"Oh, I like her. She's very strong and athletic," King pointed at the screen, which showed a female hero named Captain Mizuki. Genos nodded in agreement.

Captain Mizuki was a tall woman with a curvy, athletic, and muscular build and purple eyes.

"She does have superhuman strength but not as strong as Sensei, but she has something in common with him. Both trained hard to gain their strength." Genos added on.

“Hmm maybe, is she still active being a hero” King question Genos. Genos continue typing. He reply yes she still active doing some small hero activities like help stopping robbers, house on fire, etc.

“Okay she is a candidate, keep on searching muscular woman” Genos continue typing searching another female hero who still active around.

The computer screen flickered as the next result popped up: Okamaitachi, a disciple of Atomic Samurai. Okamaitachi wears a long-sleeved sweater and a long dress. Her hair consists of two upward arches split at the neck with hairpins on each side of her head. She has a large dot on each cheek.

King looked at Genos, hoping he knew. Genos looked back at King, hoping for the same. “You do know that she is not actually HerShe but a SheMale” King hinted to Genos.

Genos gave a quick nod a few times before immediately closing the tab and moving on to the next search result.

The next search result was tank top girl. She was also have superhuman strength but of course not as strong as Sensei which not a problem, no one is Saitama level but she is not even S ranked level and never been level up before. King asked Genos to search for more information about her, where is she now? it’s been to quite for two years. As the search results came up, it was revealed that she had quit being a hero, gotten married, and had kids.

“Damn….” Genos looked at the screen frustrated. King look a bit disappointed. “She was kinda cute, too bad she is taken now”.

Not many candidates remained. After the Great Fight, a lot of heroes became less active or quit altogether. It made sense now that the world lacked disasters and monsters, people just wanted to enjoy peace.

"It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find her," King reassured Genos.

While laid back watching TV, Saitama couldn't help but overhear some of the conversation between King and Genos about potential candidates. None of the candidates seemed to fit the description Blast had given him last time. Blast had mentioned someone strong, but he hadn’t said anything about strength in the physical sense. Saitama tried to recall more details from their conversation, but...

‘Meh, why bother? I’m sure she’s fine. There are no take-backs now anyway. I’ll just find out on the wedding day,’ he thought.

Saitama let his mind drift back to the TV, which was showing an animal documentary. Onscreen, a group of penguins waddled through the freezing Arctic. The penguins were funny-looking not the usual tall, tuxedo-wearing kind. These had bright yellow-orange feathers on top of their heads, almost like little crowns. They were about 2 feet tall, with black backs and white bellies. The narrator explained that these were Macaroni Penguins, a species that typically mates for life, which caught Saitama’s interest.

Now, he was focused on the screen. Two penguins, a male and female, walked together, almost like they were holding hands. ‘That’s kinda cute,’ he thought.

The penguins began dancing together, rubbing against each other. The narrator explained that the male was performing a mating dance. After a successful mating season, the couple would stay together, caring for their chicks.

Saitama suddenly realized there was something important he needed to discuss with them. He wanted to ask King a question, but since Genos was also there, he figured he might as well ask them both. Maybe he'd get a better answer with two people to help.

"Hey, Genos, King, can I talk to you about something important?"

Both of them turned their attention to Saitama. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to ask such an embarrassing question. He wasn’t sure where else to get answers, but these were two people he trusted and was close to. He figured they could help after all, they were all adults, right?

“What’s up bro, did you finally remember another detailed about the wedding?” King question Saitama. He look a bit perplex. He usually very casual guy. This must be something important. King thought.

“Yeah, something like that…” Saitama scratched his neck, still avoiding eye contact. “I—I’m not sure how to ask this, but you guys have been in the dating scene, right? You must have more experience than me. I mean, even Genos is dating Fubuki now.”

“What do you want to ask, Saitama, bro?” King reassured him, and Genos gave a comforting nod.

Saitama, still sitting on the sofa, slouched forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands pressed against his chin. “Do you know what happens after the wedding ceremony?”

King was about to answer, but Genos cut in first. “After the wedding ceremony, the next event is usually the wedding reception. A wedding reception is a celebratory event that takes place after the formal ceremony, marking the official union of the couple. Its purpose is to gather family, friends, and loved ones to celebrate the newlyweds, providing an opportunity for social interaction, dining, and entertainment.”

“Woah, woah, Genos, that’s a bit of a textbook explanation,” King said, glancing at him. Then King stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Plus, I don’t think that’s what Saitama wants to know. I think he’s asking about the wedding night.” A smirk crept onto King’s face.

Saitama turned to King, looking surprised. “Uh, yeah, that’s what I wanted to ask. What should I do?”

King slowly walked over and sat down next to Saitama on the sofa, resting against the armrest. He looked at Saitama, a bit more serious now. “Saitama, you know about romance and intimacy, right? I mean, you’ve had those feelings before, haven’t you?”

Saitama leaned back on the sofa, lost in thought. After a brief pause, he was ready to answer King’s question. “I don’t remember much, I used to date someone in college, but it didn’t work out. It was barely a relationship to begin with. After that, I started working but got fired, and then began my hero training.”

He looked at King, perplexed. “So, I guess I used to know the feeling, but now I’m not sure what it is.”

King felt a bit sad for Saitama. He wasn’t an expert in romance either, but he at least had feelings of excitement when he saw cute girls, even if they were 2D characters. That gave him some idea of what romance felt like, and other exciting feelings too.

‘Hmmm, this gives me an idea,’ he thought.

Genos stood up and walked over to them. He stood next to the sofa where King sat. He connected the data he had collected and suddenly changed the TV screen into a presentation slide he had just made in his processor brain.

“Hey, since when can you do that to my TV, Genos?” Saitama asked, shocked that his TV had suddenly switched to a PowerPoint presentation. King, on the other hand, looked impressed. He admired how Genos had done all of that in his mind within a minute. Not bad.

“All smart TVs can do this now, Sensei,” Genos replied casually, adjusting the slide to full screen.

Saitama muttered quietly, “Huh, I didn’t know I bought a smart TV.”

Genos dimmed the lights, casting the living room into a soft glow, and positioned himself by the TV. The screen displayed bold black text: “THE WEDDING NIGHT.” The next slide showed a definition, and Genos began to explain:

“The wedding night refers to the first night that a newly married couple spends together after their wedding ceremony and reception. It traditionally marks the beginning of their married life and is often associated with intimacy and romance. The concept carries different meanings depending on cultural, religious, and personal contexts, but it is generally viewed as a private and significant moment for the couple.”

King face palmed. Genos, what the hell are you doing? This was not what Saitama wanted. He glanced at Saitama, who looked bored and was slouched in his seat. If Genos keeps this up, Saitama is going to lose his mind.

Genos moved to the next slide, which displayed another large black text: “INTIMACY.

“Intimacy refers to the deep emotional connection and closeness that people share in a relationship. It can be both emotional and physical:

• Emotional Intimacy: This involves sharing your innermost thoughts, feelings, and vulnerabilities with someone. It creates trust and security, where both individuals feel understood and accepted.
• Physical Intimacy: This involves physical closeness, ranging from holding hands and hugging to kissing or sexual activity.”

“Genos, I don’t think Saitama wants a textbook definition of intimacy. We’re all adults here, we can talk about this more directly, right? Maybe start with some pictures?” King suggested, a blush creeping onto his face.

Genos looked at King with a more serious expression. “Yes, of course. I was about to show the next slide, but you rudely interrupted me.”

‘Is he really going to show what I think he is?’ King’s heart started pounding as he realized what was coming. His signature “King’s engine” roared, and his face flushed bright red.

The next slide displayed a large black text: “THE REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM.”

The reproductive system is the biological system in humans and other organisms responsible for producing offspring. It includes organs involved in the production of sex cells (sperm in males and eggs in females), as well as structures that support fertilization, pregnancy, and childbirth. The screen then showed images of reproductive organs.

Saitama felt like he was back in a biology class. Why is this happening? he wondered. He had hoped for a simple explanation but was instead turn into a full-on lecture. ‘This is so boring.’

King’s face flushed, not from embarrassment, but from frustration. “Genos, what the hell?! You shouldn’t toy with a man’s feelings like that!” He stood up, leaning close to Genos.

Saitama, meanwhile, felt dead inside.

“I was hoping you’d have a better explanation since you have a girlfriend. You should be more experienced, Genos,” King glared.

“Look at Saitama now! He’s going to die from boredom if you keep this up!” King pointed at Saitama, who was slouched and a sleep on the sofa with drool coming out of his mouth.

“Nonsense,” Genos interjected. “Sensei is only sleeping. He always does that when he needs to visualize things more clearly. That’s how he processes things.”

Both glared to each other. If they about to fight we all know who would win.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two. I’m fine now,” Saitama interrupted, wanting to stop their bickering. He didn’t want this conversation to drag on any longer. “How about you, King? Do you have a better explanation for me?”

King smiled at Saitama. “Yeah, sure. I can share some links you can watch later.”

Saitama looked at him, curious. “Is it a long video?”

“Nah, man. It’s... entertaining. Maybe...” King trailed off, feeling embarrassed. He glanced back at Saitama, who had already lost interest, staring at the wall clock.

“How about I lend you some manga and games too” King suggested some more hoping pick Saitama interest back.

“There are manga and games for this kind of stuff?” Saitama asked, looking at King with growing curiosity.

“S-sure... It helps you visualize things better, and maybe it could help you regain some interest in this stuff,” King said, his voice shaky.

King walked over to his bag, which was sitting on the computer table. He pulled out a game with a pink cover. Saitama raised an eyebrow, looking at him. “What’s that, King?”

King hesitated for a moment, but then decided it was better to just rip the band-aid off. “It’s, uh, an 18+ game... for adults. You know, to help you learn about romance and intimacy,” he explained, trying to sound casual but clearly feeling awkward. King tried to explain to Saitama simpler terms without making him sound like a weirdo.

Saitama looked at the game and read the title: "Doki Doki Maiden Lovey Dovey Special Edition (How to Treat a Woman)." He raised his eyebrow even more. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of game, King.”

King panicked. “W-what? No, no! I mean, it’s for training…..for you! Yes, think of it as... training, bro!” King stuttered, losing track of what he was even saying.

Saitama looked even more confused. “How did you know about this wedding thing and my issue before? Did you buy this before coming here?”

King began to sweat, his face turning red as he struggled to swallow. He had no idea how to explain this mess. Thankfully, Genos stepped in.

“Sensei, if you want to understand how to treat a woman and learn about intimacy, how about we go to a strip club?” Genos suggested, completely serious. He glanced at King with a smug look, thinking to himself, I’ll be the better best man, and Saitama will appreciate me more than King.

Meanwhile, King had collapsed to the floor with a nosebleed by sudden suggestion.

Saitama blinked, surprised by Geno’s suggestion. “Um... are you sure, Genos? You have a girlfriend. Won’t she be mad?”

Genos quickly responded, “No, I wouldn’t tell her. This will be our secret training for us, as they say. A bonding experience for the boys,” he said, confident that this would convince Saitama. Genos was determined to win the ‘best man’ competition, even if it meant taking Saitama to a strip club.

Saitama still looked perplexed. Sensing that he needed to push further, Genos added, “We could make it a bachelor party, Sensei. I can arrange everything, make it private, and……”

“No need, Genos,” Saitama cut him off, shaking his head. “I don’t want to do that. It feels like cheating, even though I don’t know her yet. I’m sure she wouldn’t agree to something like that. And honestly, I’m not comfortable looking at strangers’ bodies for entertainment. Plus, I don’t want you lying to Fubuki. It’s not right.”

Genos was taken aback. He admired Saitama’s loyalty and integrity. Such a noble man, Genos thought, his admiration growing. He doesn’t even know his bride-to-be, yet he refuses to act dishonorably. Amazing.

“I need to write this down. This would be a great tip for me when it comes to Fubuki,” Genos mumbled to himself as he quickly pulled out a notepad and began scribbling notes.

Saitama glanced at him, sweat-dropping. “I can’t believe he still has that notepad after all these years.”

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After hours of shopping, they finally sat down for a late lunch. “Phew, I haven’t had a workout like this in forever,” Fubuki said, fanning herself with her hand. Tatsumaki glanced at her sister over the menu. “Really? Shopping is a workout for you?”

Fubuki pouted and shot back, “Hey, cardio is hard, okay? Plus, I’m helping you get ready for the wedding. Thank goodness everything we need is in City A Shopping Mall so we don’t have to fly around to different cities.”

Tatsumaki ignored her sister's rant, still scanning the menu. “Does spaghetti and meatballs sound good to you?”

Fubuki looked over at the menu too. “Hmm, too many carbs. I don’t want to be bloated during the wedding. Maybe I’ll just get a salad.”

As Tatsumaki turned the page, she added, “Dessert sounds nice afterward. They have chocolate cake. We could share it and have coffee.”

Fubuki, already thinking about macarons and tea, nodded. They agreed on their main courses, and Fubuki signaled the waiter to take their order.

Both Tatsumaki and Fubuki placed their orders for the main dish, but when it came to dessert, things got a little confusing.

“We’ll have the chocolate cake and coffee for dessert later,” Tatsumaki said casually.

But Fubuki interrupted. “Wait, no, I want macarons and tea. Didn’t you hear me?” She eyed her sister.

“I thought you agreed to the chocolate cake. You love chocolate cake since when did that change?” Tatsumaki sounded a bit confused.

“It’s been a while since I stopped eating chocolate. People change, you know? I have a different palate now. If you want the chocolate cake, go ahead and order it for yourself. I’ll get my macarons and tea,” Fubuki reassured her.

Tatsumaki looked a little disappointed. She didn’t want the chocolate cake anymore. She had ordered it because it used to be Fubuki’s favorite and had wanted to share it with her. “It’s fine, I don’t want dessert anymore…” Tatsumaki muttered, trying not to sound too disheartened.

They both ate their lunch peacefully. Fubuki was scrolling on her phone, thinking about the next venue. The next stop was the wedding dress shop. Fubuki had glanced over some wedding dresses online, looking at a puffed-out gowns for petite women, hoping to find something like a princess ball gown. She’d always loved those kinds of dresses when she was a kid. Maybe Tatsumaki would like them too.

Tatsumaki, on the other hand, was slurping her spaghetti, the sauce now covering the corners of her mouth. She was still thinking about the dessert issue. ‘Did I really lose touch with my sister for that long? I can’t believe I don’t even know what she likes for dessert anymore.’ She used her powers to twirl more spaghetti onto her fork and took another big bite, slurping again. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll be a good Onee-chan. I can bond with her again during all this wedding chaos. I’ll spend time with her, get to know her better, and just agree to whatever she wants me to do.’

“Eww, Onee-chan, wipe your face! Why are you still eating like a ch……" She stopped herself before finishing the word. "I mean, Onee-chan, please eat properly. I don’t want you to ruin your dress.” She floated a napkin over and wiped her older sister’s face with her powers.

“Besides, once you’re married, I won’t be around to clean up after you,” Fubuki teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe Saitama will take care of that… with his lips.” She finished with a smirk, unable to resist the joke. “Maybe he’ll wipe it off with a kiss… hehehe.”

Tatsumaki’s face turned red with a mix of embarrassment and disgust. “What the hell, Fubuki?! Nooooo, don’t ruin my appetite!” Tatsumaki made exaggerated gagging sounds. “GROSS!”

Fubuki burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. “Hahaha, Onee-chan, he’s going to be your husband soon. He’s going to do more than that later. You might as well get used to the idea now.” Fubuki couldn’t stop laughing.

“Noooo! I’ll eat properly from now on… Arghhh!” Tatsumaki groaned, utterly flustered burying her face in her hands.

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After finishing their meals, Tatsumaki and Fubuki headed to their next destination City W, home to the finest wedding dresses in the region. Their stop was at Qleinfeld, the largest bridal boutique, known for its intricate wedding gowns designed by the best stylists. Inside, the shop was lined with a variety of white dresses, organized in sections based on style, length, and detail.

While Fubuki was speaking with a consultant, Tatsumaki floated around, glancing at the dresses. She had to admit, it was overwhelming to see so many options. She wasn’t sure how to even begin picking a wedding dress, and for once, she was grateful Fubuki was there to help her out.

Fubuki glanced over at her sister, hoping she’d say something, maybe express a preference for a certain style or have a vision in mind for what she wanted. But Tatsumaki remained silent. Fubuki walked over to her.

“It’s okay, Onee-chan. I know you didn’t choose this. The Hero Association may be forcing you into this wedding contract, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make it yours. You can wear whatever you want. In fact, I say we go all out blow the budget and get the most expensive, stylish, iconic dress out there!”

Tatsumaki smiled slightly and nodded. “I hope you can help me choose what's best. After all, you're better at this high-fashion stuff than I am.” Fubuki was taken aback by her sister’s words, almost tearing up. “R-really, Onee-chan? You want me to choose for you?”

Tatsumaki nodded again, this time more firmly, reassuring Fubuki.

Fubuki's eyes lit up with excitement as she turned back to the consultant. “Alright, we need something that screams power, elegance, lots of sparkle, and definitely a ball gown with a puffed-out skirt.”

The consultant nodded, jotting down notes before speaking into her walkie-talkie to alert other staff members to start searching for the perfect dress for the most powerful women in the world.

Fubuki turned to see Tatsumaki sitting on a couch, looking a bit bored. She walked over. “So, see anything you like?”

Tatsumaki looked at her sister with a bored expression. “Not really. I don’t know how to pick one. To be honest, I never thought about getting a wedding dress. It feels out of place.”

Fubuki sat down next to her. “It’s okay, Onee-chan. A wedding dress is just another fancy dress, but it’s more about you and your partner sharing a special memory. The most important thing is that you love the dress you wear. Plus, this is the second-best part of the wedding ceremony.”

Tatsumaki nodded.

Fubuki couldn’t help but notice how unusually reserved she was. ‘Why is she so quiet? This isn’t like her. She’s usually so opinionated,’ Fubuki thought, confused.

Tatsumaki noticed her sister staring. “What are you looking at?” she asked, her tone slightly defensive.

Fubuki raised an eyebrow. “Are you nervous or something?”Tatsumaki quickly dismissed her accusation. “No, of course not. Why would I be nervous? It’s just a wedding.”

“Have you talked to Saitama about this whole arrangement?” Fubuki asked, hoping her suspicion was correct.

Tatsumaki shook her head quickly. “No way. Why would I talk to him? I mean, he agreed, I agreed, that should be enough, right?”

Fubuki gave her sister a knowing look. “That’s all, huh?”

Tatsumaki moves her head to another side hiding from Fubuki judgment. “Yes, that’s it. Besides, it’s Saitama. He probably doesn’t care much. I bet this whole thing is just a stupid formality to him.”

Fubuki expression soften. “and that’s why you should go talk to him. I’m sure make you less nervous about this. Besides, you Tatsumaki, Tornando of Terror why would be nervous about.”

Tatsumaki looked away for a moment, her usual confident demeanor faltering slightly. “I’m not afraid. I just… don’t know what to do. I’ve spent my whole life fighting and focusing on being a hero. This whole thing… marriage, weddings….”

Fubuki smiled warmly and nudged her. “I know I don’t support about this whole marriage contract but Saitama is a good guy. I know him for a while now… he may not show much emotion but I’m sure he feels something……”

Both of them went a comfortable silent for a moment.
Tatsumaki was curious about what her sister meant when she said the wedding dress was the second best part of the wedding. ‘Then what’s the first?’ she thought.

Tatsumaki looked at Fubuki. "So, what’s the best part about the wedding ceremony?" she asked, eyeing her sister for answers.

"Oh, the best part would be the wedding day itself! When you and Saitama are at the altar, looking at each other all lovey-dovey and saying your vows. Finally, ending it with a kiss, and everyone witnesses your love for each other forever." Fubuki spoke with passion, closing her eyes as she dreamed up the scenario.

Tatsumaki could see Fubuki was imagining the whole wedding scene, while Tatsumaki, on the other hand, grew more nervous. She hadn’t really thought about having to kiss him in front of everyone. Another problem she had to deal with… Shit.

Just then, the consultants returned with various white dresses. One immediately caught Fubuki’s eye. “This one will make you look like a queen!” She quickly took the dress from the consultant and brought it over to Tatsumaki.

Tatsumaki stood up and touched the dress, instantly recoiling. The gown was layered, too puffy, and the length was far too long, reaching down to her feet and a long train at the back. She preferred something that showed off her legs, something fitted that hugged her pear shape body, but this dress hid everything she liked about herself. Even the neckline covered everything!

Tatsumaki look disgusted by the dress. “Ew, gross get that away from me” Tatsumaki swatted the dress.

Fubuki took a deep breath. ‘There she is. Her opinioned self ‘ Fubuki tried to calm herself reassuring Tatsumaki. “How about we try it first and then we can judge it together.”

Tatsumaki notice Fubuki looked slight annoyed already. Tatsumaki hesitated but remembered she had promised to let Fubuki help her. She sighed, biting her tongue. “Okay, let’s try it.”

Fubuki’s face lit up with excitement. “Okay, let’s go!” she said, eagerly pushing Tatsumaki toward the dressing room. The staff followed close behind, like baby chicks trailing after their mother hen.

Tatsumaki in the dressing room, trying to wear the sophisticated wedding dress that Fubuki picked. Oh she never felt so uncomfortable in her life. Even though she could use her powers to float and carry the weight of both herself and the dress, it still looked horrible on her. She silently hoped Fubuki would pick something different after the reveal.

A knock came at the door from the consultant, asking if Tatsumaki was ready. She nodded, signaling that she was. Floating out to the stage podium, which was framed by curtains, Tatsumaki stood there with a stoic expression as the curtains opened. It was as if she was the star of a grand show.

Fubuki, filled with excitement, gasped as she saw Tatsumaki in the dress. "Onee-chan, you look amazing! I love every details! Have you seen yourself?"

The consultant pulled the curtain behind her, revealing a full-length mirror. Tatsumaki turned around and looked at her reflection. Her face immediately twisted into a frown. She looked like a swan that had been thrown into a blender. This was not her at all.

She tugged at the high-neck fabric of the dress, letting out a heavy sigh. It felt like she was trapped in a cage, the material suffocating her. She wished she could rip the dress apart and never see it again. But she held herself firm, trying to stay calm and avoid making a scene.

Fubuki looked at the consultant. "Can we try another dress? I mean, we're here, so we can’t just try one, right? What do you think, Onee-chan?"

Tatsumaki simply smiled and nodded, agreeing with her. Secretly relief this wasn't the chosen dress.

Back in the dressing room, Tatsumaki found herself accompanied by Fubuki this time. Fubuki had brought in a variety of dresses, determined to have her try all of them. Tatsumaki had to admit she hadn’t realized her sister’s vision of wedding dresses was... unique.

Fubuki gave a signal to the consultant to leave, wanting to help her sister dress herself. She knew Tatsumaki hated being touched by others, but for Fubuki, her older sister could tolerate it a bit more.

Tatsumaki stood stiffly, arms crossed, as Fubuki pulled the enormous gown over her head. She could already feel the weight of it pressing down on her, both physically and mentally. Fubuki worked quickly, clipping the dress at the waist. Since it was a sample dress, it was a bit too large, and Fubuki had to use the clips to lock it in place.

Tatsumaki turned around to face Fubuki while she was still adjusting the dress, carefully arranging each layer of the skirt. Tatsumaki had been waiting for the right moment to ask about Fubuki's past feelings for Saitama.

"Aren't you angry that I’m marrying your old crush, Saitama?" Tatsumaki asked, making eye contact with Fubuki, hoping to catch any sign of sadness. Instead, Fubuki looked surprised for a moment, then burst into a soft giggle. Tatsumaki was confused.

"Onee-chan, why are you asking this? I never had a crush on him," Fubuki giggled again as she stepped back to admire her older sister in the different wedding dress.

The dress was champagne-colored. The top had a heart-shaped neckline, but the cups didn’t fit her breasts well, making it look awkward and unsupported. The skirt was slightly puffy, though not as overwhelming as the previous one, with every layer beaded with crystals. It was beautiful, certainly better than the swan-blender dress, but it just wasn’t right for her. Tatsumaki could imagine it looking stunning on Fubuki’s curvier body, which would fill out the dress perfectly.

“Well, it’s a little big, but it can be adjusted. And the color isn’t traditional. Is that okay with you, Onee-chan?” Fubuki asked, her hand on her chin as she imagined the end result. Tatsumaki turned to the side, ignoring Fubuki’s comments about the dress.

“What do you mean you didn’t have a crush on him? You used to follow him around, always visiting him at his place. I remember him defending you against me. Don’t tell me you didn’t like him, even just a little,” Tatsumaki pressed, hoping to finally get some real answers.

Fubuki looked at her sister, confused. “I told you, I didn’t have a crush on him. Maybe I thought I did once, but it turned out to be more admiration than romance. He’s a hero I look up to, not someone I want to date.” Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.

Fubuki turned to the racks of hanging dresses, flipping through them until she stopped and pulled out another gown another puffy one. Tatsumaki saw this and realized that today's theme seemed to be "A ball of swans."

Fubuki thought about how she wanted to one day tell her sister that she had found someone she truly liked, someone she’d been dating for a while. She could now confidently call him her boyfriend. She wished she could introduce him to Tatsumaki, but given what her sister was going through, that meeting would have to wait. Right now, Tatsumaki needed her support. ‘I’ll help Tatsumaki get her love life sorted first. Once she’s happy, I can introduce Genos as my boyfriend,’ Fubuki thought.

And hopefully, by then, Tatsumaki wouldn’t go into a psycho mode upon meeting Genos. She’d be too busy being in love and happy with Saitama and… probably busy with baby-making. Ew, why did I think of that? Fubuki shook her head, trying to erase the last thought.

“Besides, Saitama was never my type, Onee-chan. I’ve always been into someone who dresses well. He’s just too… nonchalant.” Fubuki held up the new dress for Tatsumaki to see, and Tatsumaki nodded, understanding she needed to change again. She used her powers to unclip the back of the dress, loosening it while holding the front to avoid accidentally flashing Fubuki.

Fubuki politely closed her eyes to give Tatsumaki some privacy while she changed. She continued explaining, hoping to end her sister’s doubts once and for all so Tatsumaki could move on and focus on her new life with Saitama.

When Fubuki opened her eyes again, she was nearly moved to tears. Tatsumaki looked so cute and demure in this third dress. The gown was pearl white, with a perfectly fitted bodice that didn’t need much adjustment. The off-the-shoulder neckline showed just the right amount of skin, highlighting her shoulders and collarbone. It was the kind of dress that would look even better with diamond jewelry around her neck. The skirt flared out just enough, not too puffy, unlike the first dress.

“If makes you feels any better, I think you two would make a cute couple” Fubuki gave a warm smile to Tatsumaki hoping her doubts would end and knowing Fubuki supported them as a couple.

Tatsumaki was lost for words. She just turn back and scoff at her sister. “Hmph, whatever let’s go try some more wedding dresses.”

Fubuki felt relieved their conversation about the Saitama crush fiasco had finally ended. She hoped Tatsumaki would be more open to the idea of having feelings for Saitama after this… or at least tolerate him when they live together.

After trying on nearly two dozen dresses, Tatsumaki finally decided to stop. She felt exhausted and overwhelmed by the endless stream of gowns. She just sat on the center stage podium, slouching down while waiting for Fubuki to make a decision. Tatsumaki looked around, noticing that even the shop’s consultants were tired, one of them was leaning against a mannequin for support, half asleep. Tatsumaki felt a pang of guilt, realizing how late it had gotten. This was a mistake. She should've just picked a dress herself, and all of this could've been avoided.

"Wait, Onee-chan, how about we try another one? This! This one! I’m sure it’s the one!" Fubuki floated another dress toward Tatsumaki’s face. Another puffy dress. Tatsumaki was annoyed. She couldn’t handle trying on any more dresses, especially another swan-ball gown. Just pick one and let’s go home already!

Tatsumaki was at her limit. She couldn’t handle trying on one more swan-ball dress. She wanted this whole ordeal to end. “No, no more dresses, Fubuki! I’m too tired, and the staff is exhausted too. Please, just pick one already,” she snapped, activating her powers to shred the dress Fubuki was holding into pieces.

Fubuki and the consultants were stunned by Tatsumaki’s sudden outburst. Fubuki just realise how late it was, feeling embarrassed, realized how long she had kept everyone there.

Fubuki quickly picked a dress from one of the consultants. "Yes, this one please, and make sure to measure my sister without touching her, please." She clapped her hands, begging the consultants to be careful. "Sorry for keeping all of you so long, and thank you for working so hard," Fubuki apologized again.

The consultants hurried to take Tatsumaki's measurements. They worked carefully, avoiding any unnecessary contact as they measured her height, waist, chest, and sleeves. Tatsumaki stood stiffly, not daring to move, afraid that any mistake might trigger another outburst. One of the younger consultants, measuring Tatsumaki’s collarbone, whispered a quick "thank you" for making the process fast, as they all wanted to go home.

Tatsumaki gave her a slight nod. "The shredded dress will be paid for by the Hero Association," she added, prompting a smile from the young consultant, who continued her work.

Once finished, the consultants assured them that the chosen wedding dress would be sent directly to the wedding venue once the alterations were done.

Fubuki and Tatsumaki finally reached home at Tatsumaki’s place around 11 PM. Tatsumaki went straight to the sofa, flopped down, and stretched out her arms with a big yawn. "Finally, everything's done... I can go to sleep and stop thinking about all this nonsense."

Fubuki set down her shopping bags next to the sofa, taking off her shoes. "Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. We haven’t done our important training."

Tatsumaki raised her head, looking confused. "Wait, what training? I don’t need training to fight monsters."

Fubuki smirked, crossing her arms. "Not that kind of training, dear Onee-chan."

She walked over to the flat-screen TV, picked up the remote, and turned on Metflix. She selected a top romance series called "Fridgeton."

Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow at the TV. "You want me to watch a chick flick with you? Not tonight, Fubuki. I’m going to bed. Let’s watch it some other time."

Fubuki frowned as Tatsumaki started walking toward her bedroom. "No, Onee-chan, this is your training in romance and… intimacy."

Tatsumaki stopped in her tracks, turning around. "Huh?"

"Remember, you asked me for advice about intimacy earlier?" Fubuki crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow with a smirk, clearly enjoying her moment of victory. "Well, why don’t we watch some romance series and see what you can learn? I think the first season suits you well, Onee-chan."

Tatsumaki walked closer to the TV, reading the synopsis. "I still don’t get it. How will watching this teach me about ‘intimacy’?" She used air quotes around the word "intimacy."

"How about we watch it together tonight? I’ll make hot cocoa and a fresh batch of caramelized popcorn. Then you can judge the series for yourself," Fubuki said, heading to the kitchen to start preparing the drinks.

Tatsumaki reluctantly accepted but sweetened the deal. "And make me some hot ramen too. I’m hungry." Fubuki nodded, accepting the request.

Tatsumaki smiled as she reflected on the day. It had been nice to spend time with Fubuki, especially with everything that was coming up later in the end of the week.

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Who new wedding preparation is chaotic

Chapter Text

Chapter 4


The wedding day had finally arrived, and the world waited with bated breath. After the Hero Association's big announcement, fans across the globe were thrilled by the idea of their favorite hero and heroine becoming a couple. The news was the hottest topic, with everyone buzzing about when the sparks flew and how no one noticed they were dating. Some fanbases had shipped them before, but now it was official, and the excitement was real.

Of course, not everyone was pleased. Some civilians grumbled about Tatsumaki, a older woman, marrying a younger man. A few women, heartbroken over One punch man no longer being single, voiced their disappointment. Others commented on Tatsumaki's height and petite figure, which irked some fans.

Fubuki, sitting in front of the TV, watched two talk show hosts discuss the upcoming wedding, her temper flaring. "What's wrong with people? Talking about you like that! Are they stupid? And why do they have to comment on your looks? Onee-chan is gorgeous for 30!"

Tatsumaki, sitting calmly as a professional makeup artist worked on her, wasn’t bothered by the media's chatter. She knew she needed to focus on the important day ahead. Today’s the day I’m getting married, she thought to herself, pushing aside the noise. Staying calm and composed was her priority.

Fubuki, however, couldn’t help but feel more irritated as the TV hosts shifted the conversation towards her.

“You know, her younger sister Fubuki would actually look great with One Punch Man," the first host commented. "Their heights match, not too short, not too tall and Fubuki’s figure is to die for."

The second host added, “And they’re closer in age gap Saitama’s 27 and Fubuki’s 25. It’s the perfect age gap for marriage. Women should be marrying older men after all not the other way around.”

Fubuki immediately turned off the TV, fuming. How dare they say that! She could only hope Genos didn’t see that nonsense. Turning to look at Tatsumaki, who sat gracefully as the makeup artist finished up, Fubuki couldn’t help but admire how beautiful her older sister looked.

Who cares if Tatsumaki is 30? Fubuki thought. Both she and Saitama are consenting adults. The age difference isn’t even a big deal, it is only three years apart. Her height and body aren't anyone else’s concern. What, petite women can’t get married now? So what if she lacks bigger boobs at least she’s got a great ass, right? Guys like that too. She’s cute with Saitama, and that’s all that matters. Even though Fubuki knew this was just a secret marriage contract, people should still mind their own business.

Tatsumaki took the wedding gown hanging on the rack and stared at it for a moment, mentally preparing herself to wear something she hated. It was a beautiful dress, but definitely not her style. Still, she had agreed to let Fubuki choose.

As she struggled to pull the gown on, the makeup artist stepped forward to help, but Tatsumaki stopped her before she could get close. She took a deep breath and tried to wiggle into the dress, which was stuck at her hips.

Fubuki noticed and immediately rushed over to help. She even mentally noted, this just proves Tatsumaki has a great butt….she’s even struggling to get into the dress.

"Onee-chan, did you outgrow this dress? Why isn’t it fitting you?"Fubuki struggling as well pulling the dress upwards.

"Shut up, Fubuki! This is your fault! You kept me up all night watching shows and snacking," Tatsumaki snapped, clearly stressed.

"That was only a three-day marathon! How could you have gained weight in just three days?" Fubuki stood back, searching for a solution as she glanced at the clock. The wedding was in less than 60 minutes.

"Don’t you dare say I’m getting fat! The tailor must have measured me wrong!" Tatsumaki was starting to glow green showing her anger.

Fubuki suddenly realized the zipper wasn’t fully pulled down. She quickly unzipped it further. Tatsumaki sighed in relief when she realized it was just a zipper issue.

Once Tatsumaki was finally in the dress, the next struggle was tightening the corset. Fubuki had picked a gown with an external decorative corset to accentuate Tatsumaki’s already small waist. Why did I let Fubuki pick this dress? Tatsumaki thought in frustration.

"Okay, take a deep breath, we can do this. Remember, it's for saving the world!" Fubuki encouraged as she struggled to pull the corset strings tight. Tatsumaki braced herself against the wall, doing her best to suck everything in while Fubuki tugged again.

Tatsumaki could feel herself getting light-headed. "Can we stop... I already have a small waist, I don’t need to be... smaller," she gasped as Fubuki pulled another string, cutting her sentence short.

Fubuki, determined to make her sister look stunning, refused to back down. "I can’t let people say anything bad about you, Onee-chan! This dress will make everyone’s jaws drop, including Saitama’s!"

Fubuki couldn’t let those people says awful things about Tatsumaki petite looks. She needs to help her sister so using this was her last effort, this dress will make everyone impress by her gorgeous body. It will defiantly talk of the show.

“Last one Onee-chan suck it in everything!” Fubuki stood back gather all her strength, She braced herself, pretended to spit into her hands for luck, and put one leg against the wall for leverage. Her hands glowed blue as she activated her powers and pulled with all her might.

Tatsumaki, now feeling faint, wasn’t sure if it was from the lack of oxygen or the fact that her organs were being crushed together.

"Yes! I did it! Onee-chan, you look so beautiful!" Fubuki stepped back to admire her work. Tatsumaki leaned her forehead against the wall, barely able to stand. Tatsumaki felt uncomfortable as the sweetheart neckline of the dress pushed her breasts together upwards, making them more noticeable. The corset tighten her waist making it slimmer than usual and insinuate her hip figure more supposedly giving her a illusion silhouette of hour glass look. Everything about the dress was suffocating and crushing her, she thought.

The makeup artist, who had been silently watching the sisters’ antics, dared not intervene. She knew superheroes had their own way of doing things.

"Come on, Onee-chan, turn around, give us a little twirl. We need to get ready for the camera!" Fubuki encouraged, signaling the makeup artist to prepare.

The makeup artist ready her camera, but Tatsumaki was not in the mood for any blushing bride photos. She turned to face them, her expression completely blue and frowning.

I don’t like this at all, she thought but she figured she could handle it. She’d survived monsters and life-threatening injuries during her hero work. She could survive a few hours without breathing, right?

"Argh, what’s with that face, Onee-chan? Come on, smile for the camera, please!" Fubuki gestured, pointing to her own cheeks with two fingers as she smiled.

Tatsumaki, completely uninterested in the photos, posed with her usual resting bitch face.

The makeup artist snapped a few pictures, secretly impressed. Even without a smile, Tatsumaki looked incredibly elegant in the photos, like a model straight out of Vogue but she does look a little pale in the flash photos people would notice this.

The makeup artist noticed that Tatsumaki’s face looked a little pale, unsure if it was nerves or the lack of oxygen from the tight corset. She knew she had to help fix this, especially after seeing how hard the two sisters had worked to make Tatsumaki look great.

“Tatsumaki-san, I need to touch up a bit. May I?” the makeup artist asked, gesturing to the chair.

Tatsumaki nodded and sat down.

Meanwhile, Sekingar had just arrived at the bridal suite where Tatsumaki and Fubuki were getting ready. Standing outside the door, he checked his watch and prepared to knock. “Alright, here we go. I hope she’s ready, and that there haven’t been any complications,” he muttered to himself. He knew that escorting the Tornado of Terror to her wedding was one of the toughest jobs.

Just as he raised his hand to knock, he heard a high-pitched squeal from inside the room.

Sekingar quickly opened the door to find Fubuki hopping in excitement. Behind the makeup artist, a small figure emerged…. Tatsumaki, fully dressed in a beautiful wedding gown with a veil placed delicately on top of her head. Sekingar blinked in surprise. The fierce Tornado of Terror was almost unrecognizable, transformed into a radiant, blushing bride.

For a moment, Sekingar was speechless, taken aback by how angelic Tatsumaki looked. Her makeup artist had done an incredible job, capturing the essence of a glowing bride. Tatsumaki’s cheeks were softly flushed, her blush creating a sun-kissed effect across her face and the veil added a soft, ethereal glow to her. She looked radiant, and he could tell she was the highlight of the moment.

Tatsumaki bit her lip nervously, realizing the weight of the moment….. she was about to get married. Sekingar, still blushing slightly, managed to signal that the car was ready to take them to the venue.

As Tatsumaki struggled to walk in her 10-inch heels, she muttered in frustration, “They said I needed to wear these heels to match the dress, but I think they just wanted me to be taller to avoid any comments about my height compared to Saitama.” She stomped across the floor, each step sounding like a giant’s.

Sekingar, unsure of how to respond, thought, Why is she talking about this? She’d usually go full-on megalomaniac if anyone dared comment on her height. He wasn’t sure what to say, fearing he might set her off.

Fubuki quickly rushed to her sister’s side, trying to calm her down. “Onee-chan, the heels look great on you because they really do go well with the dress. It’s not about your height at all! But maybe try walking more slowly and elegantly in them.”

Tatsumaki glared at Fubuki, annoyed. She knew Fubuki was lying to avoid the truth. The media’s comments had gotten to her. She had heard the two host discussions in the bridal suite earlier.

“Hmph, whatever, Fubuki. I can’t walk slowly in these! You guys will leave me behind with your long legs,” she grumbled, crossing her arms and stomping even louder in protest.

Sekingar finally offered a suggestion. “How about you use your powers to float for a bit?”

Fubuki quickly shook her head. “No, no, no! You need to practice walking in those heels, remember?” eyeing Tatsumaki.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes and, with a frustrated sigh, began stomping faster, leaving Fubuki and Sekingar behind.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, in the groom’s suite, Genos and King were busy preparing Saitama. King was helping adjust the ribbon around Saitama’s neck, while Genos polished his black leather shoes. Saitama, as usual, remained completely calm and unfazed by the big day.

King, almost teary-eyed as he finished, stood back to admire the man who had saved his life countless times. He felt emotional, knowing Saitama was finally settling down, even if it was just a contract marriage. He hoped that Saitama would find happiness in his new life.

Genos, however, was secretly holding back the truth about Saitama's bride, as Fubuki had requested. He didn’t like hiding this from his Sensei, but he had only learned the truth himself three days ago during a date with Fubuki. Both had been so caught up in wedding preparations that they hadn’t had time to discuss it earlier. When they finally met up, Fubuki was shocked that Genos didn’t know it was Tatsumaki who would be marrying Saitama. After hearing his explanation, she realized it does made sense, Saitama might be the strongest, but he was still clumsy person.

Fubuki worried about Saitama’s reaction if he found out it was Tatsumaki. He might cancel everything, or he might actually be okay with it. She couldn’t take the risk, especially after all the effort Tatsumaki had put into making the wedding happen and the significant amount of Hero Association funds that had been spent by Fubuki.

The makeup artist gestured for Saitama to sit down. Normally, grooms didn’t need makeup, but since the wedding was going to be broadcast live, a few touch-ups were necessary. As she worked, she couldn't help but admire Saitama’s complexion. He had the perfect male face a strong jawline, sharp nose, and features that girls would typically go crazy for. It was unbelievable how no one seemed to have noticed him before he become One Punch Man.

As the makeup artist worked on his face, Saitama called out to Genos and King. “Hey, guys, can you get something from that bag over there?” He pointed to a purple bag on the sofa with a jewelry logo on the front. Genos walked over, finding two small dark blue velvet jewelry boxes inside. He took both out, handing one to King.

Saitama explained, “You two should carry the rings. One is for me, and the other is for the bride. Take care of them, alright?” He smiled at them, giving a sense of trust.

Genos almost teared up but quickly composed himself, determined to stay strong as Saitama’s best man. King, however, was puzzled. “Uh, bro, which one is yours and which one is for the bride?”

“Oh, umm, I guess we’ll figure that out when we get there,” Saitama shrugged.

Genos, on the other hand, was starting to short-circuit at the thought. What if he was holding Tatsumaki’s ring? His hand shook aggressively as he held the box, torn between his duty as Saitama’s best men and the thought of holding the bride's ring. He really wanted to open it and check but resisted.

He didn’t want to hold Tatsumaki’s. He was Saitama’s disciple he deserve to hold his Sensei’s ring.

King noticed Genos’ trembling hands and understood the reason behind it. He wanted to hold Saitama’s ring but soon King realise behind the ring box got a small sticker initial “M” behind it meaning could be a male initially for the groom. King was holding the grooms ring. King smirked to himself, he realise he was the best bro in this.

Meanwhile, Rover, the monster dog, sat happily on the sofa, wagging his tail in excitement, wearing a cute red bowtie as if he knew his owner was about to be "hitched."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Busho, a staff member from the Hero Association, appeared, ready to escort them all to the wedding venue.

They were all settled inside the limousine as Busho drove them toward the wedding venue. He glanced at them through the rearview mirror and gave a heads-up about the media. “We just announced the wedding, the crowd outside... let’s just say it might be a bit wild."

King leaned forward, eyeing Busho through the mirror. "Wild how? Are we talking good wild or bad wild?"

Busho chuckled. “A bit of both. Some fans are overly excited, while others might have... opinions. But overall, it’s mostly positive. People are here to celebrate the love.”

Saitama overheard the conversation, raising an eyebrow. He was curious about who he was about to marry, especially since it seemed to be causing such a stir. Then again, after becoming famous, everyone seemed to have an opinion about him. He returned to staring out the window, trying to recall a few lines from the vows he was given….not that he was good at memorizing scripts.

A few minutes passed, and as they approached the grand, expensive hotel, Saitama and his friends noticed the driveway packed with people. Fans were screaming as the limousine passed by. Saitama spotted a teenage girl holding a signboard that read "Saitatsu" with a giant heart over the text.

“What the heck is ‘Saitatsu’?” he muttered under his breath.

On King’s side, he noticed several girls screaming and even crying over the fact that Saitama was no longer single. King never expected people to be this upset about the wedding. Sure, Saitama had a fan club, but he never realized how many girls were head over heels for him. "Why didn’t Saitama ever take the chance to get a girlfriend before?" King thought. "Well, too late now. He’s about to become someone’s husband and soon a father."

Genos, meanwhile, was on edge. The crowd might slip up some photos of Saitama x Tatsumaki together, potentially revealing the secret earlier than intended.

As the limousine pulled up in front of the hotel, a grand set of doors stood open, ready to welcome them. King and Genos stepped out first, followed by Saitama. The crowd erupted into cheers, seeing their favorite hero, One Punch Man, looking sharp in a sleek black tuxedo.

Saitama gave a small, awkward wave to the crowd, who roared even louder in response. He wasn’t one for big gestures, but he didn’t want to come off as rude. The cheers intensified, and the security team strained to keep the excited fans from swarming the entrance.

Sensing the commotion, Genos quickly stepped up, guiding Saitama inside the hotel before the scene got even more chaotic. The crowd’s energy was overwhelming, but they made it safely into the building, away from the frenzy of fans.

.

.

.

As the second limo pulled up, Sekingar opened the door, letting Fubuki step out first in a stunning, timeless dusty blue dress with white floral print. Her dress had slim straps over her shoulders, and a side slit that added elegance to her stride. Fubuki looked like she belonged on a runway, effortlessly drawing the attention of photographers as she walked down the red carpet, poised like a celebrity. Cameras flashed, fans cheered, and the crowd buzzed with excitement.

Then, the moment everyone was waiting for arrived Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror, stepping out as the blushing bride. The crowd fell silent as she emerged from the limo, in a breathtaking pearl white ball gown. The gown featured a sweetheart neckline with a fitted corset, and the skirt was a voluminous cascade of lace and tulle, adorned with delicate floral details. Her hair was straighten and tie into a delicate hair bun. A Crown and a soft sheer veil draped over her head, fluttering gently down her back, adding a touch of mystery to her look. For once, her usual aura of fierce confidence was replaced by shyness and awkwardness.

She walked carefully in her 10-inch gold Jimmy Choo heels, trying not to trip on the voluminous skirt of her gown. For someone who could fly through the air with effortless power, this moment walking down the carpet with hundreds of eyes on her felt strangely daunting. She never felt camera shy before but today everyone seem keep an eye on her like waiting for her making a mistake.

Fubuki notice how the crowd went silent. She turns back seeing her sister walk slowly and carefully. As Tatsumaki moved toward the entrance.

The murmurs in the crowd gradually picked up again, and Tatsumaki could hear whispers about how breathtaking she looked in her dress. Some fans even began chanting, "Saitatsu! Saitatsu!" a ship name they'd made for her and Saitama. She noticed signs with her and Saitama’s faces, surrounded by hearts. It left her both surprised and confused ‘why did people care so much? ‘

As Tatsumaki moved toward the entrance, she overheard a few disagreeing remarks, but those barely registered. She was too focused on maintaining her balance, worried about the possibility of stumbling in front of everyone. The flashing cameras were relentless, with photographers crowding in closer and closer, taking hundreds of pictures. Tatsumaki felt overwhelmed.

Why are these flies swarming around me? Doesn’t anyone know about personal space anymore? She felt so uncomfortable with the paparazzi and flashing cameras crowding her. Where are the security guards to keep them away? Oh she wished she could use her powers to fly straight to the entrance. This is getting on my nerves! She thought.

Fubuki noticed how the photographers were making Tatsumaki struggle by blocking her path. Tatsumaki was walking extra carefully, trying not to let her anger show in the photographs. Fubuki quickly stepped back toward her sister, posing briefly for the photographers while guiding Tatsumaki to the entrance. She leaned over and whispered, “Hey, Onee-chan, you’re doing great. Just keep walking, keep your chin up, and breathe. Keep walking, keep your chin up, and breathe”

Fubuki repeated a few times while walking beside her older sister.

Once inside the hotel, both Tatsumaki and Fubuki exhaled deeply, only then realizing how tense they'd been. Fubuki quickly turned to check on her sister, gauging if she was alright after the intense entrance. Tatsumaki lead against a wall for a moment, taking several steady breaths before using her powers to lift herself a few inches off the ground to rest her aching feet.

Fubuki eyeing at her sister about to ask her stop using her powers but Tatsumaki interject first “I know what you’re going to say. Relax, I’m just resting my feet.”

Before Fubuki could respond, two staff members approached with polite bows. They both ready to lead her to next schedule.

“Tatsumaki-san, Fubuki-san, the groom’s side is ready at the altar,” one of them said, smiling brightly. “Is there anything you’d like before we begin, Tatsumaki-san? Perhaps a refreshment?”

Tatsumaki swallowed hard, unable to believe it was already happening. She thought she’d have a few more hours before it started, but they were cutting straight to the main point.

“Yeah, bring me something with alcohol. Fast,” she said, her eyes glaring under the stress. Tatsumaki accidently glare at the staff without realizing with the stress building up.

The staff member nodded quickly, darting off to the bar to get her drink scared ticking of Tornado. Fubuki noticed her sister’s tension was mounting and thought, Yes, she definitely needs that drink before stepping into a live broadcast ceremony. Here’s hoping she stays calm no sudden outburst is happening.

The other staff member continued fanning Tatsumaki with a small electric fan, gently dabbing her forehead with beauty bladder. “You’re sweating more than usual, Onee-chan,” Fubuki murmured, looking around with concern. “Does this grand hotel not have air conditioning?” The staff member fanning Tatsumaki stiffened, looking too nervous to respond.

Luckily, the event manager arrived, smiling warmly as she handed Tatsumaki her drink. Tatsumaki accepted it with a quick nod and took a sip, savoring the sweet, fruity flavor with a hint of a warming sting.

“So sorry I was a little late. I’m the manager for this beautiful event. I had to handle a small issue. Oh, goodness, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Ageha, it’s lovely to finally meet you, Tornado.” Ageha extended her hand to Fubuki, who shook it as a formality, while Tatsumaki ignored the handshake, taking another sip of her drink.

“To answer your question, Fubuki-san, yes, we do have air conditioning. Please adjust it to a cooler setting,” Ageha said, snapping her fingers at the staff member holding Tatsumaki’s mini fan, signaling them to take care of it.

“My apologies, I hadn’t realized the temperature outside was rising,” Ageha added, bowing slightly in apology.

 “Alright then,” Tatsumaki finally said after another sip, feeling her nerves settle a bit. “Let’s get this party going. I can’t just stand here, the groom can’t get married without me.” She floated up a few inches, only to catch a glimpse of the massive double doors, leading her to hesitate for a split second, realizing just how many people were waiting to see her.

Sensing her sister’s nerves creeping back in, Fubuki stepped up beside her and grace her elbow with Tatsumaki’s, giving her a gentle of encouragement.

“Together, Onee-chan. You’ve got this,” Fubuki whispered. Tatsumaki gave her a grateful nod before they both stepped forward toward the doors, where the staff awaited, ready to open the door leading down the aisle for the grand reveal.

Ageha came forward, presenting Tatsumaki with a bouquet of white roses and yellow daisies. Tatsumaki took it in both hands and stared at the flowers. None of this was her choice…..not the dress, the venue, the flowers, or even the groom. Everything seemed tailored to match Saitama’s image, leaving her feeling heavy-hearted and disappointed. She wished she could go back and remake everything, choose her gown, shoes, flowers, venue, and jewelry… even the man she was marrying. But it was too late. She’d accepted her fate the moment she signed that contract.

The next step was get out there and put on a grand show for everyone including Blast!

As they approached the double doors, Tatsumaki felt a mixture of emotions. She glanced at Fubuki beside her, who adjusted her Crown and veil to drape over her face, adding a touch of mystery to her look. Ageha signaled, and the doors swung open, revealing a grand ballroom filled with guests.

Inside, the setting was as extravagant as Tatsumaki imagined it would be. Rows of elegant seating lined the hall, draped in white and accented with tasteful touches of gold. At the far end, the altar stood beneath an arch of white roses, illuminated by soft, cascading lights that filled the room with a gentle, romantic glow.

A hush fell over the crowd as Tatsumaki took her first step down the aisle. The whispers stopped, and she felt the collective gaze of everyone in the room, a mixture of admiration, awe, and curiosity. Cameras flashed subtly, the media capturing each moment of her progress down the aisle. Tatsumaki held her head high, feeling both vulnerable and strong. Her heels clicked softly on the polished marble floor as her nerves began to settle and her stride grew more confident.

Walking alongside her, Fubuki offered silent support, her reassuring smile a comfort to Tatsumaki. As they moved down the aisle, Tatsumaki recognized a few familiar faces among the guests the S-Class heroes, including a retired Bang, next by his students. One with white hair and orange hair, they look recognizable, Tatsumaki thought.

Then, her gaze finally fell on the man standing at the altar. Saitama was watching her approach, his expression as unreadable as ever, but something softened in his eyes when their eyes met. He looked calm, perhaps even a little amused, standing there in his sleek black tuxedo. In that brief exchange, Tatsumaki’s remaining anxieties faded a little. She allowed herself a small, almost invisible smile, as if to say, Okay, I’m here. Let’s get this over with.

Fubuki spotted Genos standing beside Saitama and King. For a moment, she was lost in her own little world with him. As she stepped closer, she noticed Genos gazing at her, mouth slightly agape, admiring her. She couldn’t help but smile shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear and avoiding his eyes. She wasn’t sure why, but seeing him at the altar like this made her suddenly feel shy, as if she could imagine this being their wedding.

When Tatsumaki reached the altar, Fubuki stood behind her and help holding her bouquet. Tatsumaki faced Saitama fully now, and they stood before each other in silence for a moment as the officiant began to speak, welcoming everyone to the ceremony.

As Tatsumaki scanned the rows of guests again, she couldn’t help but hope to see Blast among the S-Class heroes. But he wasn’t there. She felt a sting of disappointment, she hoping to see him at this wedding since this was his idea. ‘Where is he? He must be here right?’

Tatsumaki shifted her gaze to Saitama now, hoping to see any hint of emotion, but he remained calm and composed. How can he be so relaxed in a situation like this? She shook her thoughts away, reminding herself that she can be cool and calm too.

‘Blast must be watching from afar. I need to stay cool. He would be proud of me’, she repeated as a mantra in her mind.

Meanwhile, Saitama found himself observing the bride in front of him. He couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter, was he actually nervous? He must be this was something new to him. He continued to observe the bride. She looked so small, and that dress didn’t seem comfortable at all, not to mention the ridiculously tall heels. Why would she wear something like that? He thought.

‘I thought I was already wearing something stiff and ridiculous with this tuxedo. I guess I am consider lucky, I just wear a suit’, Saitama thought.

He tried to focus on the veil, but her face was still unrecognizable. Who is she? When can I lift the veil? He thought. As he continued to observe her, he noticed her shifting slightly, her head tilting toward the guest seating.

Saitama decided to whisper something to her. “Hey, are you looking for someone? Your parents?”

Tatsumaki was surprised to hear him talking to her. She hesitated at first to respond. Are they even allowed to talk at this moment? But, seeing that the officiant hadn’t finished his speech, she figured no one would notice if she whispered back.

“No, you idiot. I’m looking for Blast… I thought he’d be sitting in the guest row, but I guess not,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed at the end. Saitama noticed the hint of disappointment in her tone and tried to lighten the mood.

“Oh… Well, forget about him. You look really nice in that dress.” He gave her a small smile. Tatsumaki stood stiff hearing this. “I bet you work really hard for making this work. Thanks.” Saitama continue the compliment.

Tatsumaki wasn’t sure how to respond, was that a backhanded compliment or a genuine one? Saying I look nice in a $50k wedding dress didn’t feel like much of a compliment to her. Fubuki had picked this dress so she could look absolutely fucking drop-dead gorgeous for him and the public, and all he could say was, “I look nice.” She stayed silent, deciding it wasn’t worth getting worked up over.

But she did whisper back, “Idiot Egghead…” as she couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

Saitama had expected her to respond somehow, but he didn’t expect to hear “Idiot Egghead” or to see her roll her eyes at him. That voice seems familiar… especially the way she talks, he thought. Now Saitama was curious about who this was.

“Saitama, Saitama…..please your vow.” The officiant repeating Saitama’s name a few times, finally snapping him back to the moment.

Realizing what was happening, that it was time for his vows. He needed to give his vows!

"Umm, right, I, uh... Saitama here promises that I’ll be a good husband and always take care of you..." Saitama suddenly lost focus, caught by her green eyes under the veil. "I, um, will take care of y-you... no, wait, I said that already."

The camera drone flew in front of Saitama and Tatsumaki, zooming closer to his face. Saitama got nervous, noticing his face on the large screen at the side of the altar.

"Oh, crap... I, um, forgot," he whispered under his breath.

Tatsumaki eyed him in confusion. ‘Why did he stop? Did he really forget his vow?’ Tatsumaki grew irritated, hoping they could finish quickly as she shifting slightly the ache in her feet coming back again.

Tatsumaki noticed the droid inching closer to Saitama’s face, zooming in until his pores were practically visible. “Ugh, that stupid droid is distracting! Don’t they know this is an important part of the ceremony? They only care about views,” she thought, feeling increasingly agitated.

Then she got an idea. What’s the point of being the most powerful esper if I don’t use it to my advantage? She raised her finger subtly, sending a gentle psychic wave toward the droid. The droid suddenly wobbled, losing its balance as it zig-zagged to the left, then up, then out toward the exit.

Feeling satisfied, Tatsumaki smiled under the veil. Saitama noticed the annoying droid had finally flown off, making him feel relieved no more distractions. He noticed the bride shift a bit closer, her green eyes piercing through the veil. She leaned in and whispered to him. “Hey, just say anything comes to mind, you don’t need to follow the script they send to you. Just say anything sappy and heart full, I’m sure everyone would love it anyway.”

Saitama looked around his surroundings, taking in the altar decorations and the arch adorned with white flowers. The room was filled with unfamiliar faces. A few cameramen and photographers stood off to the side, capturing every moment. Among the many seated guests, he recognized only a few the first three rows held S-Class heroes, or at least former heroes now. He looked back at Genos and King behind him, who gave him reassuring smiles. Turning forward again, he noticed Fubuki smiling with excitement behind his bride. He’d been curious when he saw Fubuki walking beside the bride as they entered, but he didn’t want to overthink it.

The feelings were finally sinking in. Was it excitement? Happiness? Nervousness? Or maybe just hunger making his stomach grumble? Saitama brushed it off. None of that mattered now, he needed to focus on the person in front of him.

His future.

Saitama looked into her eyes, the determination there giving him a confidence and an idea of what to say. He coughed to clear his throat.

“I’m not good with speeches, but I know what to say when I see you.” Saitama turned back toward Genos and King, gesturing for them to open the jewelry box. It revealed that Genos had indeed been holding the bride’s ring. Saitama took it from the box.

“I want to be by your side every day. I promise to be there on the normal days and the not-so-normal ones. I’ll try to make you happy.”

He slowly lifted the bride’s hand and gently placed the ring on her finger. Her hand was small and soft in his.

“I promise you’ll never face this world alone.” Saitama slid the ring fully onto her finger.

Tatsumaki was surprised by Saitama’s sudden action. She wasn’t ready, but she didn’t flinch back at his touch.

Tatsumaki couldn’t help but stare at Saitama’s eyes as he continued holding her hand in his. She could hear Fubuki smiling and giggling behind her, and a small flutter rose within her at his words. She knew this was scripted by the Hero Association, but the way he said it sounded so genuine… No, wait, it’s fake! Tatsumaki shook the thought away. Saitama got the short and simple vow, while she got the long speech she hated. Lucky bastard, she thought.

‘Focus, Tatsumaki. His words aren’t real. This is just an act for the public, she reminded herself. Life isn’t some romantic Netflix series.’ She tried to calm herself with logic.

When it was her turn to recite her vows, Tatsumaki felt surreal that this was happening. Even though this was a formal arranged marriage for the Hero Association’s benefit and at Blast’s request. The way the crowd seemed enchanted by the moment, or the way Saitama stood before her with a relaxed gaze, drew her in. She had never felt so nervous.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as she prepared to recite her vows. She had memorized every word, every line. She could still picture the black ink on the paper where it was typed out.

“From the moment we met, you felt like home. You’re my best friend, my heart, and my greatest adventure. Today, I promise to stand by you through every sunrise and storm, and to be your partner in everything.”

She hope everyone would believe it. Every word she sound so robotic and monotone.

“I, vow to cherish every moment we share, to lift you up when you need it, and to build a life with you that is filled with laughter, joy, and endless love.”

She released her breath as she finished the sentence, opening her eyes and looking directly at Saitama’s bowtie, avoiding his gaze...and the lie within her words.

“I choose you, today and every day, for the rest of my life. You are my forever, and I can’t wait to walk this journey with you, hand in hand.”

Tatsumaki swallowed hard on the final sentence, relieved that she managed to finish her vow without stuttering. Glancing around, she noticed some guests with teary eyes, and when she glanced over to the row of S-class heroes, she saw most of them seems to be happy but Zombieman looking unusually serious. A quick glance at Fubuki showed that even her sister looked a little moved, despite knowing it was all for show.

It seems everyone believe every word she said.

Saitama noticed how Tatsumaki suddenly paused, not making her next move. He whispered to her to remind her about the ring.

“Hey, your next step is to take the ring from King,” Saitama said, glancing at King, hoping Tatsumaki would notice him pointing with his eyes.

King stepped forward and handed the ring to Tatsumaki. “Oh, right…” Tatsumaki murmured. She quickly let go of Saitama’s hand, using her powers to lift the ring and slide it onto his finger. She was surprised at how smoothly it went on.

She stared at his ring for a moment. The design was simple just a silver band for the men’s ring. Then she realized she hadn’t even looked at her own ring yet. Taking a quick peek, she saw her ring’s design, a band embedded with diamonds all the way around, with a larger diamond as the main feature at the top center. Some might see it as luxurious and intricate, but she couldn’t help feeling it was tacky and heavy on her finger. She wondered if he had picked it out.

"You may kiss the bride," announced the officiant.

Tatsumaki’s body jolted at the word "kiss." She saw a pair of masculine hands reaching up to lift her veil. Finally, fresh air hit her face, and she could see Saitama in front of her clearly. He stared at her for a moment, and her heart began to race.

For Saitama, this moment was one he’d been waiting for. The long vow was expected from her, though a lot of it didn’t make sense, being mostly scripted and forced. He barely know her suddenly he was her best friend. Weird he thought, she had told him not to follow the script, yet she had followed it all the way through. Now, the wait was finally over, and he could see who was behind the veil.

As he lifted it, Saitama’s brown eyes locked with Tatsumaki’s green ones.

He blinked in surprise. Saitama couldn’t believe it was her, Tatsumaki. It is her right? but she looks a bit different, why does she have the weird pink blush color across her cheeks and nose. The red lips was bold and different, making her older he thought. The shimmer and lashes at her eyes making her glimmer under the lights. What happen to her hair curls? He remember he saw her a few weeks ago at the shopping mall but now she looks different. No wonder he couldn’t match up who it was before.

The officiant cough to Saitama, signaling him again. “You may kiss the bride, Saitama.”

The realization finally hit on Saitama…..he had to kiss her. He hadn’t prepared for this moment at all.

Saitama looked at Tatsumaki, noticing the mix of defensiveness and vulnerability in her expression. She looked ready to face anything, anything but this moment. Her intense eyes held a flicker of hesitation.

Unsure how to start, he recalled a few things he'd picked up from TV shows and King’s video game. That was enough to give him an idea of what to do.

With her ridiculously high heels, she manage to reach above his shoulder but this was still a bit awkward. He leaned down toward her, trying to close the distance.

Tatsumaki felt her body tense, caught between fight and flight. Normally, she'd choose to fight, but today was different it choose flight. Her legs wobbled slightly, and she took a small step back, unsteady. Before she could move any further, a gentle push from behind push her forward.

Before anything else could happen suddenly, she found herself in Saitama’s arms, his hands resting firmly on her shoulders, steadying her. He pulled her a little closer, his face near hers. Tatsumaki’s heart raced. She could feel the weight of all the eyes watching, waiting for the moment they’d come to see. Running was no longer an option.

‘What would he think if she was scared off by a stupid kiss?’

She knows want she needed to do. Determined, she decided to face it head-on. She quickly close her eyes and push her head towards him aiming directly towards his lips.

“Smack!”

The sound echoed through the room, and the crowd gasped at what had just happened.

Saitama and Tatsumaki accidently smack they faces into each other causing Tatsumaki red in the face. Saitama on the other hand was covering his mouth and nose and remain unharmed. Realising what just happen.

‘Crap, did I hurt her?’ Saitama covering his mouth and nose in shocked.

‘Crap that actually hurt!’ Tatsumaki had her hands over her face as well.

Guests in the audience stood up, craning to see if she was all right. She shook her head and rubbed her nose, then slowly lowered her hands, revealing that she was fine though there was a bit of redness on her nose and lips. Thankfully, her sun-kissed blush covered it up from most people, but Saitama, standing so close, could see it. He notice it

“I actually hurt her. Crap.”

Tatsumaki looked around and saw everyone standing, surprised by what had happened. ‘Dammit, I messed up. I went in too fast, she thought…… I need Saitama to fix this.’

Tatsumaki come closer to Saitama and whispered. “Hey baldy just try again, you take the lead this time.”

Saitama blinked in shocked. “S-sorry I didn’t mean too hu…..”

Tatsumaki leaned in again, closing the gap. “Please, just kiss me quickly before the crowd gets any wilder.”

Saitama notice everyone indeed start rile up and whispering happening around them. Saitama nodded understand the situation there are in.

He placed his hands gently back on her shoulders. Tatsumaki’s pulse raced as he steadied her, but she kept her composure, pushing down the unwanted feelings.

Saitama steady gaze on her make her pause. He wasn’t looking at her with judgment or even surprise. He just that calm. She closed her eyes shut tight hoping for the best.

She felt a brief gentle lips on her cheeks.

Tatsumaki blinked in surprise. Her heart was pounding, but her expression stayed controlled.

“SO CUTE!” a few voices from the audience exclaimed.

The crowd erupted into applause, and camera flashes flared up once more. Tatsumaki took a step back, glancing at Saitama, who looked relieved.

Tatsumaki took another step back, lowering her gaze momentarily before lifting her chin defiantly at the press. She caught sight of Fubuki, who was watching with pride.

Saitama, now free from the formality of the moment, gave her a small, almost unnoticeable nod acknowledging the weight of what they’d both just gone through. For a moment, two heroes standing side by side accepted their fated and figuring out what to do next that they both didn’t plan.

Fubuki handing back the bouquet to her. Tatsumaki hold it tight taking it as a support for what just happen.

As they about the leave the altar. Saitama and Tatsumaki walked down side by side the aisle together.

"Don't get used to this," she whispered softly, giving him a slight look. Saitama looked down at her and gave a small nod in response. "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, as they both walked down the aisle together. Cameras flashed, capturing every step, with the world watching.

They really did look good together.

.

.

.

In the large hotel kitchen, the sound of bickering between the two psychic sisters could be heard. The kitchen staff, too busy preparing for the reception meal, ignored the two.

Tatsumaki rested on the metal kitchen counter, holding a bag of frozen peas to her nose. She winced at the cold touch. Fubuki was still going on about how she had messed up the kiss.

"I can't believe you head-butted Saitama! What the hell were you thinking?" Fubuki paced back and forth, worried about what the media would say.

Tatsumaki didn’t seem bothered by the situation. She kept pressing the frozen peas to her nose. Though she knew she hadn't meant to head-butt him, it had genuinely been a mistake.

"Relax, we'll take care of it," she said, unfazed. "Everyone seemed happy with the end result. I still got the kiss, like you wanted."

Fubuki stopped and stared at Tatsumaki in disbelief. “Why would you say that? Both of you should want the kiss, not just because I or anyone else asked for it.”

Tatsumaki couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Really? You think just because of the contract, we’re supposed to suddenly fall in love at the altar? That we’d be all lovey-dovey, unable to take our eyes off each other? Suddenly, I want to do spits switching!”

She put down the frozen peas, feeling annoyed. “Grow up, Fubuki. This is all an act, and he and I both know that. As long as the public (and Blast) are happy, I’m fine with it.”

Fubuki crossed her arms, looking off to the side. She couldn’t help feeling sad as reality set in. She had really hoped Tatsumaki would fall in love with Saitama. But then again, this was still the early stage. There was still hope, she thought.

Fubuki sighed in defend for now. “Okay, Onee-chan, you’re right. Come on, let me check your nose.”

Tatsumaki put down the frozen peas and let Fubuki examine it. “Oh, thank goodness it’s not swollen. I wouldn’t know how to cover that with makeup if it were there.”

Fubuki touched up a bit more concealer and blush, restoring Tatsumaki’s look. She added a bold red lipstick for an extra statement.

Tatsumaki and Fubuki walked together toward the reception. As they approached the entrance, there he was Saitama, waiting by the door. Fubuki couldn’t help but smirk at her older sister.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to talk.” With that, Fubuki entered the reception hall, leaving the two alone.

Saitama rubbed the back of his neck, and Tatsumaki guessed he still felt bad about what had happened.

“Relax, I handle worst injuries remember. A little head-butt won’t hurt me easily.” Tatsumaki said with slight smirked.

 “The ceremony was dreadful right, I rather take the head-butt any day then wedding ceremony. The officiant speech was way too long.” He seems relax after she reassure him.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” he said, breaking the silence. Tatsumaki glanced at him with curiosity.

“You think that was easy? Just wait for the reception.” Tatsumaki muttered under her breath. “That’s when the real party begins.”

Saitama shrugged, unfazed by the attention continuing to surround them. “It’s not like anyone’s going to care what we do, right?”

Tatsumaki wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, she looked toward the grand entrance of the reception hall. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was to come.

Saitama followed, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was attracting. Hands in his pockets, he walked beside her. Tatsumaki eyed him from the corner of her eye, watching how calm he was. Somehow, his relaxed attitude made everything feel a bit less stressful.

Reaching the door, Saitama placed his hand on the handle and looked back at her with a smile. “Ready for this?”

Tatsumaki nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” Together, they entered the room.

Inside, the hall was filled with chatter and laughter, with guests mingling and toasting. Tatsumaki felt a slight of discomfort as the crowd’s gaze turned toward her once again. Saitama, seemingly unaffected by the attention, walked beside her with his hands still tucked in his pockets, a hint of a smile on his face.

Tatsumaki tried to play along. She wasn’t a social butterfly like her sister Fubuki, who could walk into any social setting with ease, but she’d learned to manage these situations over time.

As she scanned the room, she spotted a few familiar faces: her former S-Class colleagues, some reporters, and even a few people she didn’t recognize. She tried searching for the person she had really been hoping to see Bla...

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ageha, the event manager. “Hello, my lovely couple of the year! I’d like to congratulate you both before I escort you to your dinner table.”

Saitama smiled. “Finally! I could eat a horse. Please, lead the way, ma’am.”

Still a bit disappointed that she couldn’t spot Blast in the crowd, Tatsumaki followed behind them.

As they finally sat at their spot in the center of the room, surrounded by guests, Saitama and Tatsumaki both realized just how visible they were. How were they supposed to act around each other? They hadn’t communicated in years, the last time they’d seen each other was at the shopping mall incident.

Saitama sat to Tatsumaki’s right, eyeing her from the corner of his eye, wondering what to do next. Out of habit, he put his hand behind his neck and accidentally brushed his shoulder against hers, which made her twitch slightly. Despite her neutral expression, she subtly moved her arms to cross them, as if trying to make herself smaller.

“Sorry, I accidentally elbowed you,” Saitama said, hoping to cut through the silence.

Tatsumaki, without turning her head, responded almost in a whisper, “It’s fine, Saitama.”

He noticed her gaze fixed ahead, but it seemed like her eyes were tracing something or someone in the crowd. Saitama looked forward as well, seeing guests laughing, smiling, and toasting. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, everyone except them.

Suddenly, he heard a small growl and saw Tatsumaki’s face flush. “Are you hungry, Tats?”

Tatsumaki turned her head quickly. “Argh, no, I am not hungry, and stop shortening my name like that.”

Saitama raised an eyebrow. “But I heard your stomach growl…”

“No, it wasn’t. It must have been you!” she scoffed at him.

Just then, another loud growl came from her stomach, this time clearly audible to Saitama. Tatsumaki’s face flushed even more, and before he could respond, she glared at him.

“That’s my stomach growling because of this stupid corset, okay? I had to wear it because of you. You should just shut up and stop talking now.”

This left Saitama even more confused. “I didn’t ask you to wear a corset. Why would you blame me for that? Geez, someone’s hangry.”

Normally, Tatsumaki would have flared up, but her irritation was interrupted as two plates were placed in front of them. Another waiter came by, setting down additional appetizers and utensils.

Tatsumaki couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the food….it looked very appetizing.

Saitama was already putting the main course dinner first in his mouth, skipping the small appetizers.

Saitama cut a piece of steak and popped it into his mouth. Before he could finish chewing, Tatsumaki glanced at him, unable to hide her amusement at how ridiculous he looked with his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. She quickly looked away, letting out a small giggle.

Seeing him eat so casually made Tatsumaki feel less stressed. It was comforting to realize she didn’t have to keep up a perfect appearance while eating especially since Saitama’s carefree eating habits would likely draw most of the attention away from her. She knew she could get a bit messy when she enjoyed her food too much and often forgot to control her image during those moments.

Tatsumaki decided to start with an appetizer from the far corner of the table. She easily used her psychic powers to lift it and put it into her mouth. Her eyes lit up with joy as she finally got to eat something after fasting all morning.

She decided to eat the steak next, but before she could take another bite, Sekingar and Stich approached them.

“Saitama-san, Tatsumaki-san, congratulations! Thank you for making this possible. May your union prosper, and may you have wonderful and powerful children in the future,” they said in unison, bowing respectfully.

Tatsumaki opened her mouth to ask a question, but Saitama spoke first. “Thank you, and thanks for organizing this ceremony. The food is delicious, by the way.”

Tatsumaki shot Saitama a glare for cutting her off, but he didn’t seem to notice. He simply kept munching on his food.

Stich stepped forward. “Tatsumaki-san, Blast sends his regards to both of you. He wishes you ‘the best on this wonderful journey, as you build your new lives together.’ ”

Tatsumaki was disappointed to hear this but tried to act natural, though her voice betrayed her feelings.
“O-oh, he didn’t come?” She coughed slightly, trying to mask the sadness in her voice. “Did he say why?”

Stich looked perplexed, unsure of how to explain. “He hasn’t been reachable for days. He must be too far away, in another dimension.”

Tatsumaki, however, was too heartbroken to react. She remained silent, refusing to acknowledge them further.

Saitama noticed the tension and bowed his head toward Sekingar and Stich. “Thanks again for everything,” he said, signaling for them to leave. The two men quickly bowed several times before hurrying off, nervous that Tatsumaki’s temper might explode at any moment.

“Hey…” Saitama leaned closer, his voice low. “Were you expecting Blast to come?”

Tatsumaki didn’t respond or lift her gaze. She stared down at her plate, absentmindedly pushing her food around with her fork.

After a long pause, she took a deep breath and finally spoke. “I did t-this for h…” She cut herself off, her voice trembling.

“Never mind, it’s not important. Everything runs smoothly anyway, its settle.” Turning her head, she looked directly at Saitama, her eyes searching for answers.

Saitama froze, unsure how to respond. He swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I met him before this whole wedding thing. He said some things about you…” His voice trailed off, and he rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to recall Blast’s exact words.

Tatsumaki immediately focused on him, her intense gaze making Saitama nervous. He wasn’t the sharpest with words, but he tried his best.

“He…. spoke very highly of you and said you’re very strong…”

“That’s all huh?”

“Yup….” Saitama hesitated nodded. Tatsumaki continue eating her food.

Saitama felt relieved that Tatsumaki didn’t press him for more information, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with her. It was obvious that Blast was someone she looked up to deeply. However, he decided not to pry further, it wasn’t his business, after all. Plus, she said she was fine… right?

As they continued eating, Saitama was nearly finished with his dish, while Tatsumaki had barely touched hers. She hadn’t even made a dent in her steak. Instead, she seemed visibly uncomfortable, constantly adjusting her seat and fidgeting with her dress.

Saitama was about to ask her if something was wrong when three more reporters suddenly approached their table. Accompanied by a cameraman recording video, they all bowed in unison and offered their congratulations.

The first reporter stepped forward eagerly. “I have a few questions for the lovely couple. The citizens are curious—when, where, and how did this happen? There were no rumors of you two being involved, and now you’re suddenly married!”

The second reporter chimed in with an excited tone. “Tatsumaki-san, we’re all dying to know—who is your stylist? Your look is so elegant and stunning, and your hairstyle is absolutely gorgeous!”

The third reporter leaned in, almost too eagerly. “Are you planning to have children soon? And how many do you plan on having?”

Saitama froze, unsure of how to respond to the barrage of questions. Meanwhile, Tatsumaki, to his surprise, handled the situation much better than he did.

Tatsumaki raised a brow, pointed her finger at each reporter, and answered their questions with quick, curt replies.

“None of your damn business.”

“Qleinfeld by Randy. My sister Fubuki spent two hours straightening it.”

“Asap.”

Before the reporters could push further, a group of large security guards appeared behind them, one cracking his knuckles. “Hey, don’t disturb our beloved heroes on their special day. Get lost. You’re only allowed to take pictures and record the moments, not ask questions.”

The reporters hesitated, then retreated under the intimidating glares of the guards.

Tatsumaki scoffed. “Idiots. Can’t they just leave us alone? They’re lucky I’m too tired to deal with those parasites.”

Saitama smiled at her. “Thanks for handling them so well. I don’t think I’d have been able to deal with reporters like that.”

Tatsumaki glanced at Saitama and noticed he had some sauce at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, she remembered Fubuki’s comment about the “wiping the mouth” scenario. Her face instantly turned away as she tried to hide her reaction.

‘Why would I remember that? Plus, the situation is different here. His mouth is covered with sauce, not mine. I don’t need to get nervous!’

Saitama noticed her acting strange. He also observed how she kept adjusting her dress, especially around her stomach area.

“Hey, Tats, are you okay? Do you want anything? You look really uncomfortable, and you’ve barely touched your food.”

Tatsumaki quickly pulled her hands to her sides, clearly avoiding the corset as if he’d caught her in the act.

“Urgh, it’s nothing…”

“Is it the corset?”

“What? No! Shut up and just ignore me…”

“Do you want me to loosen the ribbon a little at the back? I can…..”

“Argh! NO! Just leave me alone. I’m fine!”

“I don’t think people would notice. I could just…..”

Before he could finish, Tatsumaki felt his warm hand behind her, reaching toward her back. She immediately stood up before he could touch her.

“NO!”

Her sharp yell echoed through the room, drawing everyone's attention to her. Tatsumaki froze, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to cause a scene.

‘Dammit, I need to cover this up, quick!’ she thought.

Just then, the microphone screeched, and Fubuki’s lovely voice filled the air.

“Hello? Testing, one, two, three… Testing, testing…” Fubuki smiled warmly at Tatsumaki, signaling to her that everything was fine.

Tatsumaki smiled back, feeling an overwhelming wave of relief that her sister had provided the perfect distraction. She calmed herself and sat back down next to Saitama.

Saitama, however, looked genuinely shocked. He hadn’t expected Tatsumaki to scream at him like that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

“Hey, Baldy, don’t surprise me like that, got it? You almost caused a scene.”

“I didn’t make a scene. You did,” Saitama replied, looking genuinely confused.

“Yes, you did! J-just don’t surprise people like that. Got it?”

 “Okay… Sorry.” Saitama sounded genuinely apologetic. “I should have asked for your permission before touching you. The dress must be really complicated, I might’ve ruined it.”

Saitama’s face remained neutral, but the tone of his voice carried genuine regret. Tatsumaki was surprised to see him so concerned about her dress, even though that wasn’t the real issue. She simply wasn’t comfortable with people touching her.

She did feel a small pang of guilt for her sudden outburst at him but chose to ignore it.

Meanwhile, Fubuki had successfully drawn everyone’s attention to her. She had been practicing her speech for days. Even though much of the event was staged, her words were sincere, especially when it came to her Onee-chan and Saitama.

“Hello, good evening, everyone. I’m Fubuki, the proud younger sister of the beautiful and powerful Tatsumaki or, as some of you may know her, the Tornado of Terror.”

Fubuki smiled warmly at Tatsumaki, feeling grateful for how their relationship had blossomed compared to the strained years before.

“Tatsumaki, you’ve always been a force of nature, and anyone who knows you knows you don’t let people in easily. But with Saitama, it’s different. You’re probably the only person who could keep up with her. Seeing the way you two balance each other, I know you’ve found someone who truly gets you, someone who can handle you, too! I know she doesn’t say it much, but she’s lucky to have you, and I can see how much better and brighter you make her world.”

As Fubuki continued her speech, Saitama and Tatsumaki couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Their eyes accidentally met, and both immediately turned away, averting their gazes.

Fubuki raised her glass with the brightest, cheeriest smile.

“To my sister and Saitama, may your life together be full of love, adventure, and unshakable trust. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Cheers to the happy couple!”

The entire room raised their glasses and joined in the cheer for the lovely and powerful couple.

While Tatsumaki and Saitama raised their glasses, they could feel the tension growing between them.

.

.

.

Now the couple was being dragged from guest to guest, greeting and smiling at them. Tatsumaki was starting to feel the weight of it all. The endless questions, well-wishes, handshakes, and polite nodding. It was draining her. Her head felt light, her chest tight, and every breath seemed harder to take.

Each new guest only added to her growing irritation. She just wanted to go home.

Glancing over at Saitama, she noticed he also seemed lost in thought, listening quietly to a discussion among some of the other heroes.

Tatsumaki was small enough that if she walked slowly and quietly, she was sure she could slip through the crowd unnoticed. No one would miss her absence, at least for a little while.

Casually, she made her way to the balcony, not bothering to sneak. Everyone inside seemed too absorbed in their conversations and laughter to notice her departure.

When she finally stepped outside, the cool, fresh air hit her face, offering a much-needed sense of relief. She looked up at the night sky. There wasn’t a single star visible, likely hidden behind the city’s glowing lights and pollution.

For a fleeting moment, she wished she could fly away and leave all of this behind. But such freedom was nothing more than a dream.

Reaching the balcony railing, she leaned her back against it, using it for support. Relaxing her spine and resting her elbows on the cool surface, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Her brief moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of a lighter flicking to life.

Annoyed, she opened her eyes to see the source of the disturbance. The faint scent of tobacco wafted through the air, making her frown. With the dress already constricting her breathing, the smoke only made her feel more suffocated.

“What are you doing here, Zombieman?” Tatsumaki broke the silence between them.

Zombieman exhaled another puff of smoke through his nose. “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, pointing to the cigarette in his hand.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. “You’re not supposed to smoke inside the building, dumbass.”

He took another drag from his cigarette before replying. “Well, I’m outside now, aren’t I?”

Refusing to prolong the conversation, Tatsumaki turned away, immediately wanting to leave before the smoke made her feel even more suffocated. Besides, she didn’t want to deal with Zombieman’s infamous nosiness. After all, he was known for being a sharp detective.

As she was about to step forward, she heard him speak again.

“Hey, Tatsumaki, can I talk to you for a bit?”

“Why should I talk to you?” she retorted, taking another step forward.

“Huh, that’s the Tornado I know,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Not that fake person you were in there. All bubbly and smiling, pretending to entertain the guests and friends with your honorable, strong husband… Right?”

Tatsumaki froze mid-step but refused to turn around.

“You know, this all seems staged, Tatsumaki. I can tell by the way you two look at each other.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, we love each other. We’ve been together for a while now and decided to tie the knot because we’re sooo IN LOVE,” she replied, biting her tongue at the last sentence.

Zombieman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay, fair enough. But I’m your guest too. Don’t you want to entertain me?”

Tatsumaki smirked at his remark. She turned around with a fake, sweet smile and walked back to the balcony railing.
‘He thinks he’s so smart. I’ll show him how good I am at lying.’ Tatsumaki decided that humoring Zombieman with this charade was far more entertaining than returning to the crowded room full of people she barely cared for.

As Zombieman exhaled another puff of smoke, Tatsumaki used her psychic powers to redirect it away from her face. She leaned casually against the metal railing, her usual unimpressed expression firmly in place.

“So, you’re telling me I’m not in love with Saitama? Ha! Like you know anything about love. Is that why you looked so serious during the ceremony?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve got some nerve throwing around accusations, especially knowing I’m the most powerful esper alive.”

Her sharp glare was meant to intimidate him, but she had no actual intention of using her powers on him today.

Zombieman smirked. “I never said you two weren’t in love. That’s your own interpretation.”

“Huh?” Tatsumaki blinked, momentarily confused. She replayed their conversation in her head but came up blank on what he might have implied.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m guessing something big is about to happen,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “The Hero Association has been unusually active these past few weeks. Whatever it is, it must be significant, even big enough for a wedding like this to come together out of nowhere.”

Zombieman finished his cigarette, blew out the last puff of smoke, and crushed the butt under his shoe. He looked directly at her, his usual demeanor replaced with one of quiet concern.

“I don’t know what you and Saitama are planning... but I hope the One Punch Man and the Tornado of Terror are ready for whatever’s coming. Good luck.”

He turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Oh, and congratulations on your wedding. May you have wonderful children someday.”

Tatsumaki was left stunned, standing alone on the balcony as his words echoed in her mind.

.

.

.

He was bombarded with so many questions that he barely knew how to answer most of them are random things about the wedding theme, catering, dress, suit, and more. Tatsumaki had been answering most of them when she was by his side. But when she suddenly disappeared, he found himself completely clueless. Who knew she’d handled so much of the wedding planning?

Finally, after chatting with countless people he barely knew, Saitama was left alone. Meeting so many people at once turned out to be more exhausting than he'd expected. He stood by himself, sipping some red wine, and scanned the room for Tatsumaki, hoping she hadn’t decided to ditch him.

“Hey... I need that drink,” came a small, tired voice.

Surprise, he looked down to see Tatsumaki standing there. Without waiting for his response, she grabbed the wine glass from his hand and took a big gulp, finishing it in one go.

“Uh, sure…” he muttered, barely finishing his sentence as she drained the glass.

“Where were you, Tats?”

“I was out on the balcony, getting some fresh air,” she replied, looking mildly annoyed but answering him anyway.

“Oh, okay…” He decided not to press her for more details.

Tatsumaki eyed him curiously, wondering if he was worried or if he had noticed her chatting with Zombieman. For a brief, ridiculous moment, she thought it would be funny if he was jealous.

But Saitama’s expression remained as neutral as ever. Still, there was something in his eyes... Was that actual concern?

Saitama, in turn, noticed how tired she looked. She swayed slightly as she stood there, and he frowned.

‘Oh man,’ he thought. ‘She’s already drunk, isn’t she? No way…’

After her conversation with Zombieman, his words still echoed in Tatsumaki's mind. She felt more stressed than ever and needed a drink.

“I want to leave now. I’m tired of this place,” Tatsumaki said, looking directly at Saitama.

“Yeah, I’m beat too,” Saitama replied, meeting her gaze.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out, heading in their direction.

“Onee-chan! Onee-chan!” Fubuki’s cheerful tone interrupted them. “Okay, after all this reception stuff is done, you’re going to toss the bouquet. And listen, you have to throw it to me just make sure no one else notices. We can use our psychic link so I’ll know where you’re aiming, or you can use your powers to pass it to me, but make it look like you threw it randomly. Got it?”

Tatsumaki frowned, clearly annoyed.

“Can’t I just give it to you now?” she asked flatly.

“What? No! That’s not how traditions work!” Fubuki protested.

“Who cares about tradition? You’re my sister. You should just get it.”

“No, it’s still not right. You’re supposed to throw it, and the other girls are supposed to try and catch it.”

“But you literally just asked me to cheat and use my psychic powers.”

Tatsumaki tilted her head back and glared at Fubuki.

“Look, it’s just for fun, okay? Forget what I said about using your powers. Just toss it normally,” Fubuki said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Tatsumaki sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she felt the haze of exhaustion and alcohol creeping over her.

“I’m too tired to play games, Fubuki. I was planning to leave early.”

Fubuki looked both disappointed and surprised.

“Wait, what? You can’t leave. This is your wedding, remember? You can’t just leave your guests here. We’ve still got a few more hours to go….and your solo dance with Saitama is coming up!”

Fubuki look at Saitama hoping to get him to respond back

Tatsumaki’s expression darkened, her agitation clear as she crossed her arms and tapped her heel impatiently.

“I don’t want to dance. I don’t even like dancing.”

Fubuki stared at her sister, confused. Why was Tatsumaki acting like this? This was supposed to be a special day. From what Fubuki had seen earlier, Tatsumaki and Saitama had been smiling and chatting with the guests, seemingly enjoying themselves.

Then Fubuki’s gaze fell on Tatsumaki’s empty wine glass. Realization dawned.

“Huh, I see the problem now.”

Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re drunk, Onee-chan. Saitama, why would you give my sister wine? You know she’s a lightweight!”

Suddenly, an annoying cyborg emerged from behind Fubuki.
“Hey, you better comply with the bouquet toss! She deserves to be the next b-bride I mean…” Genos abruptly cut himself off, realizing what he had just implied.

He nearly revealed their secret. Worse, did he just hint at marrying Fubuki? But they’d only been together for a couple of months. Was that even a possibility? A light blush crept across both Genos’s and Fubuki’s faces.

Tatsumaki, however, wasn’t about to let this blonde tin man talk down to her, especially on her special day.

“Who the hell do you think you a-are?! Hiccup. C-coming in here, talking to me like that. This is a family conversation y-you shouldn’t… be butting in!”

Fubuki quickly waved her hand, trying to defuse the situation.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, Onee-chan! He didn’t mean……”

Before Fubuki could finish, she noticed with horror that Genos’s body was already being in Tatsumaki’s psychic grip. His feet lifted off the ground, and he couldn’t even activate his arm blasters.

“W-wait, Onee-chan! This is all a misunderstanding!”

Before anything worse could happen, the lights suddenly went out, plunging the entire venue into pitch-black darkness.

Guests began turning on their cellphone lights, illuminating their surroundings in dim patches. Meanwhile, Tatsumaki felt her psychic hold on Genos abruptly sever. It was as if he had vanished.

“Huh?” she muttered, trying to locate him.

Using the faint glow of the cellphones around her, she strained her eyes to see where he had gone. Eventually, she decided it wasn’t worth the fight anymore. Letting out a sigh, she lowered her hand and released her grip.

She told herself it was nothing. Maybe she was stressing over something pointless. Besides, she had already planned to leave this farce of a wedding reception. Perhaps now was the perfect opportunity to make her escape.

Tatsumaki took a step back, her movements unsteady as the alcohol in her system made navigating the dark room even harder. Attempting to float to avoid stumbling, she accidentally bumped into someone’s chest.

Startled, she stepped back quickly.

A soft whisper reached her ears. “Hey, let’s take our leave now before the emergency lights come back on.”

The voice registered immediately. It was Saitama.

.

.

.

Finally, they managed to escape to the limo provided by the Hero Association. Sitting in the back seat, they positioned themselves as far apart as possible. Tatsumaki leaned against the door window, her head resting on the glass as she stared outside at the colorful city lights.

Saitama, too, was relieved that the wedding had ended early. He secretly chuckled to himself, recalling how he had "accidentally" destroyed the lightbox in the hotel reception. Originally, he had only planned to switch off the lights momentarily, but his clumsy attempt to steady himself against the wall had instead crushed the switch box entirely. Guess he’d applied a little too much force.

In the meantime, he had also helped Genos escape Tatsumaki’s wrath.

He glanced over at Tatsumaki, who was still leaning against the window. She looked pale probably from the lack of food or the alcohol. Remembering something he had stashed earlier, he reached into his jacket.

“Hey, I got this. You want it? I noticed you barely ate back there.”

Tatsumaki lazily turned her head toward him and eyed what he was holding a small cup of pudding.

‘Did he sneak dessert into his suit? Huh, lucky bastard. This puffy dress doesn’t have pockets.’

She shifted her gaze back to the window. “No thanks.”

“Okay.” Saitama didn’t press her any further.

However, he casually opened the pudding container anyway, peeling back the lid with an audible pop. The sound made Tatsumaki turn her head back toward him, her eyes narrowing.

As Saitama started eating the pudding, completely unbothered, Tatsumaki’s glare intensified.

A few moments later, Tatsumaki was holding the pudding cup in her hand. She swung her legs slightly, the giant heels dangling awkwardly as she sat back in the limo, enjoying the flavor. The rich vanilla pudding with its caramel topping melted sweetly in her mouth.

Saitama, however, was still trying to process what had just happened.

She said no.

Then her heel came flying to his head.

Of course, he dodged it effortlessly, but in the commotion, the pudding had somehow disappeared from his grasp. Now, there she was, savoring his pudding, completely unbothered.

“Geez, you could’ve just asked,” Saitama muttered, pulling another pudding cup from his jacket with a resigned sigh.

Tatsumaki froze mid-bite, her spoon still in her mouth, and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ‘Dammit, that was kinda embarrassing,’ she thought, avoiding his gaze.

“Whatever,” she mumbled after a beat, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to the window.

Saitama opened his second pudding cup and began eating, savoring it at his own relaxed pace. As he glanced at Tatsumaki out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how drained she looked. Normally, Tatsumaki carried herself with an aura of dominance, fierce and uncompromising. But tonight, sitting quietly by the window, her usual intensity seemed dulled. There was something almost... vulnerable about her in this moment.

“The pudding’s good, huh?” Saitama asked casually. “I figured it might help y’know, with the alcohol and the whole ‘barely eating anything all night’ thing.”

Tatsumaki shot him a brief glare from the corner of her eye but he didn’t respond.

The limo slowed to a stop at a red light, and the faint hum of the city outside crept into the quiet interior. Saitama leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, Tats,” he said after a moment.

“What?”

“Next time, maybe we skip the whole big party. Just you, me... and maybe a few puddings.

Tatsumaki blinked at him, caught off guard by the simplicity of the suggestion. She didn’t answer right away but found herself smiling faintly as she turned back to the window.

The limo resumed its journey through the bustling streets, the colorful city lights flashing past the windows. As they approached their destination, a luxurious new apartment provided by the Hero Association. Tatsumaki suddenly realized what came next.

Her chest tightened slightly as the thought hit her, and she swallowed hard. ‘I’d rather be back at the reception party now.’

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Crap, I’m not ready for the wedding night…

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

“Crap, I’m not ready for the wedding night!” was the first thought that popped into Tatsumaki’s mind.

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as they both stepped into the elevator. Tatsumaki immediately took off her heels, letting them float behind her, and walked barefoot. The feeling was amazing after a long day at the wedding ceremony. Finally, she could relax and drop the facades the smiling faces, the long friendly chatter, the fake thank-yous.... everything.

Saitama felt relieved to finally reach home or rather, the new apartment provided by the Hero Association. He was nervous about having a new roommate, especially since it was a girl... or rather, his wife. He’d never shared a living space with a woman before.

The elevator stopped at their floor, and they both stepped out. Tatsumaki massaged her cheeks with two fingers. “Ugh, I never knew smiling so much could hurt.”

 Saitama glanced at her. He still couldn't quite believe she was his bride….I mean his wife now. He had never paid much attention to her face before, especially not for this long. She actually looked kind of nice when she wasn’t angry all the time. They usually met in battle, never in a casually.

Tatsumaki noticed him staring for far too long. “What?” she snapped.

Saitama quickly looked away. Though annoyed by his lack of response, she was too tired to push it.

Saitama hurriedly used his key card, and they both entered the apartment.

As both walk in, Saitama was amaze it was large, open living area with huge windows that let in tons of natural light and offer amazing views of the city. The floors are smooth shiny marble, and the lighting is soft making a perfect cozy warm atmosphere.

The living room has a big, comfortable couch and a minimalist coffee table. There’s a giant flat-screen TV with a built-in sound system, all controlled by smart home technology. Everything feels high end.

There was also a private balcony where they could sit and enjoy the view. It was furnished with simple, modern outdoor furniture and a few plants to add a touch of greenery.

 ‘Maybe he could bring his cactus’ he thought.

Tatsumaki, meanwhile, was pleased with the apartment. As expected, the Hero Association had provided something extravagant. They both made their way to the bedroom area.

The bedroom is large and relaxing, with a king-sized bed and soft, luxurious bedding. There’s a walk-in closet with plenty of storage, and blackout curtains to keep the room dark when you want to sleep. The bathroom connected to the bedroom has a deep tub, a rain shower, and two sinks with big, bright mirrors. Everything feels clean, modern, and fancy.

“I’m going to check if they provided any groceries for us,” Saitama said as he headed to the kitchen, opening drawers and checking the fridge. Please let there be something. That would be great I wouldn’t need to go grocery shopping tomorrow, he thought, holding on to hope.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes and ignored him.

She walked through the apartment slowly, taking in every detail. This was supposed to be her home for the rest of her life the place where she would build her future, where her child would grow up.

The thought hit her like a wave.

Everything about the apartment felt unfamiliar. It was beautiful, no doubt, but could it really be a home? Could this place hold the warmth, the memories, and the life she dreamed of?

People always said that a woman dreams of getting married and having children. Tatsumaki took a deep breath, brushing the thought aside. If only this had happened under normal circumstances. To be honest, she had never imagined being with someone or building a family with a man.

Especially with him.

She continued walking, her gaze sweeping over the rooms, until she accidentally found the nursery. It was small but spacious enough to feel comfortable. She could almost imagine sitting there with their future child. The room was empty now, no doubt waiting for them to decorate it once they figured out what needed to be done.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

If only the circumstances were different. If she had been born without powers, maybe, just maybe, she would want this life. A simple, domestic life. But for now, it was about saving the world. Even if it was a crazy, convoluted way to live, it was her purpose. She needs to do it for saving the world.

Tatsumaki walked back to their bedroom and found Saitama already there.

He was out of his main black suit, his inner collared shirt half-unbuttoned. In his hands, he held a towel folded into the shape of a swan. “Hey, look! The towel looks like a swan,” he said, looking genuinely impressed by the simple decorative touch.

She ignored his comment and walked over to the bed, reaching out to touch the drapes.

The bed was draped with silky white sheets, topped with a luxurious comforter. Rose petals were arranged in the shape of a heart at the center.

They both stared at the scene, unimpressed.

“What a waste of roses,” Tatsumaki muttered as she activated her powers. Effortlessly, she swept the petals into the trash.

Saitama felt a wave of relief at least he wouldn’t have to clean it up. He unfolded the towel swan and casually slung it over his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Tatsumaki felt lightheaded after using her powers. She sat down on the bed relaxing herself. It was probably because of the corset she’d been wearing for far too long. She couldn’t believe she had managed to survive hours of restricted breathing.

She quickly took off the veil and let her hair down, running her fingers through it and ruffling it back into place. The thought of removing everything the dress, the makeup, the corset filled her with impatient relief.

Before she could proceed, however, she felt the weight of two brown eyes on her.

Turning around, she saw Saitama watching her. The sudden attention made her annoyed.

“What?!” she snapped, breaking the silence.

Saitama jumped at her sharp tone. “I, uh… I’m going to shower first,” he stammered awkwardly before quickly disappearing into the bathroom.

Tatsumaki stared at the door, confused by his strange behavior. He been caught staring at her a couple of times now.

‘He better not having freaky thoughts! ’

Tatsumaki glanced at the side of the bed and noticed a gift bag with her name on it. Curious, she peeked inside. To her surprise, it contained a tacky, bright yellow lingerie set, clearly meant to match Saitama’s hero costume theme, or so she guessed.

She scoffed in disgust at the choice of color or the suggestion of wearing it.

“Seriously? Do they actually expect me to get laid on the first day? I’m way too tired for this crap, and this thing is hideous,” Without a second thought, she stuffed the lingerie back into the bag and tossed it into the trash can.

The more she moved around, the more lightheaded she felt. Her body was screaming for relief. She stood up and walked toward the bathroom door, pausing when she heard the toilet flush and the shower turn on. He’s probably going to be in there for a while, she thought.

‘Perfect. I can use this opportunity to change out of this dress and finally get rid of this fancy torture device.’

Tatsumaki walked over to the large makeup mirror. She turned to her side, attempting to get a better view of the intricate lace and fastenings. The angle wasn’t ideal, but it gave her enough of an idea of how to undo it.

She start glowing her hand focusing on the lace ribbon faster releasing the nod. She impatient to remove it.

She activated her powers, her hands glowing faintly as she focused on the lace ribbon, trying to untie the knot faster. Her impatience grew with each passing second.

Next, she moved to the tightly crossed laces, attempting to loosen them by carefully pulling with her powers. Her full concentration was on the task, and she didn’t notice her tongue sticking out slightly to one side, a habit she’d developed when deeply focused.

Before she could feel the release she was hoping for, she accidentally applied too much force, tightening the corset instead. The added pressure made her wince. She swallowed hard, mentally scolding herself. ‘Okay, that was a mistake. Maybe pulling in a different direction will fix it.’

Turning her body so her back was facing the mirror, she craned her neck, trying to get a full view of the lacework. This time, slowly and carefully, she thought, determined to avoid another mistake.

Tatsumaki knew her psychic powers were much stronger than her physical strength. While that usually worked in her favor, it required precise control for delicate tasks like this.

She pulled the lace slowly this time, carefully tugging each crossed ribbon to loosen it. Just as she began to feel a bit of relief, she heard the sound of the shower knob turning off.

Tatsumaki panicked and accidentally pulled the wrong side of the lace, tightening it back instead. S-shit, shit, shit! she thought.

Relax, relax. Don’t panic. I still have time.

She refocused and tried again, but her efforts only tightened the corset even more. Her breathing started to feel constricted as her chest heaved for air.

Frustration bubbled up inside her. “What the hell? Why isn’t it coming off?!” Her breaths grew shallower with each passing second. “Argh, get off of me!”

In a desperate attempt, she yanked harder on the lace, letting out a startled squeal as she accidentally dropped to her knees. Before she could stand back up, the bathroom door swung open, releasing a wave of hot steam into the room.

Saitama emerged, shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist. They locked eyes for a moment, an awkward silence hanging between them.

“Tatsumaki, are you okay? What happened?”

In the blink of an eye, Saitama was at her side. Tatsumaki quickly scrambled to her feet, trying to hide her embarrassment and her failed attempts to take off the corset.

She discreetly using her powers made another frantic attempt to loosen the laces before Saitama could notice what was going on. This time, she pulled harder than she intended, and she felt a small, uncomfortable pop in her ribs.

A weak squeal escaped her lips. She loathed the sound, mortified that it came out in front of him. ‘Argh, how embarrassing!’

Her hand flew to her mouth instinctively, a defensive mechanism as if hoping to muffle the weak sound she had just made. She took a few shaky steps back, trying to recompose herself.

“It’s n-nothing, really. I’m fine!” she stammered, waving her hand dismissively.

Saitama, however, wasn’t convinced. “Tatsumaki, your face is turning blue,” he said, stepping closer with a concerned expression.

Tatsumaki instinctively took another step back.

Saitama brow raise. “I can help you with that,” he said, pointing behind her at the tangled mess of laces on her corset.

“No need! I can do this myself,” Tatsumaki snapped, straightening her posture and standing tall. Her pride wouldn’t let her accept help, especially not from him. She locked eyes with Saitama, determined to maintain her composure.

Saitama didn’t move but his concerns was still there.

Before she could say or do anything else, her knees gave way. The spinning world turned to black as she stumbled forward, falling toward the floor.

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A few minutes had passed.

“Yo, are you okay?”

Saitama was squatting on the floor beside Tatsumaki, who had just opened her eyes.

Such a familiar scene. Another déjà vu moment, they both thought.

She sat up, unamused by what had just happened. Looking around, she spotted the culprit, the corset finally removed from her waist. She took a deep breath, relieved that the torture device was off her body.

Saitama stood up and extended his left hand to help her up. Tatsumaki glanced at his hand with annoyance, but her irritation flared when she saw what his right hand was holding. The corset, ripped apart.

Tatsumaki wasn’t sure what emotion she felt at that moment: anger, frustration, indignation… No, it was unmistakably RAGE.

“What the hell did you do?!” Tatsumaki slapped his offered hand away.

She rose to her feet, hovering above him with a green glow radiating from her body, her psychic energy reflecting her fury.

Saitama took a step back, waving his arms in a dismissive manner. “Eh? What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you did!” she snapped, pointing her finger accusingly at him.

“No, I don’t,” he said, looking as clueless as ever.

“You touched me, removed the corset without my permission, and worst of all, you ripped apart a really expensive, decorative piece of my wedding dress!”

‘But mostly, you touched me!’ she shouted internally, though she would never let him know that.

Saitama stepped closer to her, leaving a bit of space between them. She stayed still, glaring at him.

“I did it because you weren’t breathing anymore. I couldn’t let you die, especially not because of a dress.”

He raised his hand, holding the corset closer for her to see. “Look, the ribbon was a total mess. If I’d tried to undo it one by one, who knows how long it would’ve taken? And I didn’t know how much longer you could last without breathing.”

Tatsumaki crossed her arms and scoffed. “You should’ve been more patient. I’m strong, and it’s pretty stupid to think I could die from a corset.”

“Sorry…”

Tatsumaki blinked, caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Saitama looked at her again, this time directly into her green eyes. “I said I’m sorry. This must’ve been important to you. Let me pay you back. How much was it?”

Tatsumaki raised a brow, unimpressed, and said flatly, “Twenty thousand.”

Saitama froze, both eyebrows shooting up. “Come again?”

“It was $20,000,” she said with a stern tone this time.

Now it was Saitama’s turn to struggle for air. The damn corset had apparently cursed everyone into feeling suffocated. His jaw dropped. “I…argh…..I can’t breathe…”

Tatsumaki floated back down, her feet softly touching the floor. “Huh. Now you know how I felt. You’d better pay up, got it?”

Saitama’s expression twisted with disbelief. “Why would you spend $20,000 on something decorative that only made you suffer?”

Tatsumaki shook both her shoulders. “Beats me. My sister picked this for me. I didn’t even like it.”

Saitama hesitated, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Then... how much was the actual wedding dress?”

Tatsumaki held the skirt, lifting it slightly to show it off. “Hmm, my best guess? Around $30,000. If you add the $20,000 for the corset, that makes it $50,000 total.”

Now Saitama was choking, his expression a mix of disbelief and silent agony.

Tatsumaki glanced at him from the corner of her eye and noticed he was still in just a towel. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘Seriously? This guy has no shame.’

“Tsk, you’re seriously standing there like that? she snapped, crossing her arms. “Go get dressed or something. What are you waiting for? You think this is some kind of undress show?”

She turned around, heading toward the shower, but stopped abruptly and glanced over her shoulder. With a flick of her powers, she snatched the corset out of Saitama’s hand and tossed it into the closet.

Her green eyes locked onto him for one final glare.

“Pervert!”

With that, she walked into the bathroom, leaving Saitama standing there, thoroughly shocked.

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“So, Tats... what do you want to do tonight?” Saitama’s tone was blank, emotionless. Tatsumaki wasn’t sure if he was being perverted or just clueless, but either way, she was annoyed by how he shortened her name.

“I told you so many times don’t call me Tats. It’s weird! My name is Tat-su-ma-ki. Got it?” She glared at him.

“Hmm, I guess I can call you by your full name,” Saitama said, tilting his head slightly. “But usually, couples give nicknames, right?”

His aloof expression threw her off. Was he actually serious about this marriage, or was he just too laid-back?

She stopped brushing her hair and set the brush down on the makeup table. Her curls bounced back into their perfect swirl at the ends as she turned to face him directly.

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “If you call me Tats, then I get to call you Baldy. Happy?”

“That’s not a very good name for me. People will think you’re mean if you call me that,” Saitama replied with a straight face.

Tatsumaki’s jaw dropped. “Argh, I am not mean!”

The hairbrush began floating off the table, glowing faintly green. Saitama, unfazed, casually caught it mid-air as if it were second nature.

Tatsumaki was standing with her hands on her hips, her eyes still narrowed at him, but he could tell she was getting sleepy.

Saitama stood up, raising both hands in surrender, the hairbrush still in one hand. “I’ll call you Tatsumaki. Is that better?” He didn’t want to argue with the short woman, it had been a long night, after all.

Saitama wasn’t in the mood to argue. He wasn’t interested in fighting either, and sleeping next to a new roommate would take some getting used to, especially since he’d never had a woman as a roommate before.

Tatsumaki didn’t respond. She moved away from the makeup table, while Saitama walked over to put the hairbrush back in its place.

When he turned, he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn’t move toward the bed yet. Unconsciously, he found himself looking at her, studying her. She seemed nervous, or maybe she was just tired. Her curls was back and bouncy as ever. He didn't realise he was enchanted by her green curls especially after seeing it was straighten. It didn’t set right with him why did she straighten her hair when her natural hair was already nice.

Did he just said Tatsumaki hair was nice? He must miss his hair that bad huh. I guess that’s what you do when you don’t have hair on your own. You idolize other people’s hair.

Saitama wasn’t sure how to start. He knew what he needed to do, or rather, what they were supposed to do after the whole wedding fiasco.

Then again, it was up to her decision. Saitama paused his thoughts. She hadn’t replied to his earlier question about what she wanted to do. Should he ask again? It felt weird to need to ask such a thing. Maybe he’d just wait.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t realize Tatsumaki was already adjusting the bed.

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The clock kept ticking, its sound echoing through the room. This was the night everyone expected them to consummate the marriage. Tatsumaki was nervous and exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to skip tonight entirely, but she figured it was better to rip the bandage off quickly.

She decided to ditch her sister idea of lingerie. Instead, she choose cream-colored silk robe that she bought and choosing not to wear anything underneath for an easy access. She kept her hair in her simple messy curl, skipped her perfume and make up, ignoring all the advice she’d heard about how to ‘spice things up’. Tatsumaki decide to make this strictly business since this was just a contract. She had no intention of getting emotionally attached to him.

She approached the bed, adjusting it with her psychic powers, fluffing the pillows and smoothing out the comforter until it looked perfect. She then positioned herself in the middle, laying down and pulling the comforter over her body, neatly covering herself below the waist while leaving her upper body exposed. She adjusted her robe once more covering her chest trying not to expose much.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

"I guess tonight’s the night," he thought to himself, checking the clock it was pretty late midnight.

He walked over to her. "So, how do you want me to do this? Should I kiss you first and then we..." Saitama started, but Tatsumaki cut him off quickly.

"Let’s just cut to the chase. I have demands," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "No talking, no kissing, and no touching here," she added, gesturing in a circular motion over her chest.

Saitama noticed how pale she looked. He didn’t want to push her or make her uncomfortable, so he simply nodded. This was her body, after all, and she had every right to set boundaries.

"Okay," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. It was going to be uncomfortable, but he wasn’t interested in arguing. Tatsumaki gave him a curt nod, signaling for him to start.

Saitama climbed onto the bed slowly, feeling an unexpected sense of awkwardness as the tension in the air hung between them. Tatsumaki switch of the light with her powers. The darkness settled in thick, with only the city light from the large space window dimly illuminating the room. It was dark enough she clearly didn’t want to see or be seen during this.

She could feel his warmth near her, his presence uncomfortably close.

His own nerves were building, he focused on keeping things as gentle as possible. He reached for the comforter, planning to remove it, but Tatsumaki stopped him with a shaky hand

"W-wait," Tatsumaki’s voice trembled in the dark. "Don’t take off the comforter. J-just fold the bottom part and... do it." She advise to do so.

Saitama noticed the uncertainty in her tone. She’s nervous, he thought. Then again, so was he. This was new for both of them, and Saitama wasn’t exactly experienced. Still, he wanted to do this right.

Carefully, he followed her instructions, folding the bottom of the comforter to expose her legs slightly to the cool air. He placed his hands gently on her thighs, shifting them slightly to make room. His hand brushed along her side, steady but cautious, as he moved closer.

She immediately close her eyes shut tight as she can feel her heart started to race. The warmth of his body made the space between them feel small.

Tatsumaki’s body tensed, her heart pounding in her ears, making it hard to focus.

Saitama paused, has he felt Tatsumaki body freeze up. It was dark he couldn’t tell the expression her face was giving but seeing how it was before the light turns off she was pale, he hesitated. His had touch to Tatsumaki’s face. This doesn’t seem right, he thought.

Suddenly, she spasmed slightly by his touch, pulling away.

“I need a moment,” she muttered, sitting up abruptly. Saitama moved back instinctively, giving her space as she repositioned herself against the bedframe, leaning heavily against it. Her breathing was faster than usual.

The lights turn back on.

Without a word, Saitama climbed off the bed and left the room. Tatsumaki watched him go, feeling a wave of relief at being alone, but the relief was quickly replaced by disappointment. ‘Did he notice I’m a coward? she thought bitterly. Can I just call it quits?’ Her mind raced, running through scenarios and questions she didn’t have answers to.

She didn’t even notice Saitama return until he held a glass of water out to her.

 “Hey….” His voice was soft and his expression was concern all over his face.

She took glass water knowing no need further instruction what to do with it. She drank the water quickly, emptying the glass before realizing just how thirsty she’d been.

Staring at the empty glass in her hands, she struggled to find the words to say. She peeked up at him cautiously, only to find his brown eyes already locked onto hers. Panicked, she turned her head away, unable to hold his gaze.

“I, uh… think we can skip tonight’s plan,” Saitama finally said, breaking the silence. “Maybe postpone it for some other time.”

He reached for the empty glass, but just as his fingers brushed it, a soft hand touched his arm.

Startled, Saitama froze, looking down at Tatsumaki. She seemed just as surprised by her own action. Her hand quickly retreated, disappearing under the covers.

“I… ahh… think we should continue,” she said, her voice quieter, almost uncertain. She still wasn’t looking at him. “There’s no point in delaying this. It’s going to happen eventually, right?”

Saitama hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Was this the right thing to do? He’d tried to learn what he could from various sources like books, manga, games but none of that prepared him for this. Especially not with someone like Tatsumaki. But seeing her nervous resolve, he decided to follow her lead, doing his best to make her feel at ease.

Saitama put back the glass on the side table. The lights switched back off, leaving the room in complete darkness, with only the city lights illuminating their silhouettes.

Tatsumaki kept her eyes tightly shut, bracing herself as Saitama gently adjusted her legs again. Her breath quickened, and a strange tightness gripped her chest. An an anxiety she hadn’t expected.

She hated this. She hated being pin down like this. She never felt so helpless, losing control. It was a feeling she thought she’d buried long ago, yet here it was, creeping back.

Unwelcome memories started to surface, memories she had worked so hard to suppress. Of being trapped. Of being powerless. Of that cold, sterile facility all those years ago, where she was nothing more than an experiment, a prisoner.

The pain and helpless.

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“Come on number 1605, used your power or else we make you…… “

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“Just hold her like this and I shot her…..”

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“Look just tie her on the machine……”
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Her fingers clenched the comforter, knuckles whitening as the images played out in her mind. ‘Why now?’ she thought. ‘Why is this happening again?’

Tatsumaki kept her eyes closed the rest of the night, trying to push through her emotions, doing her best to remain in control. She didn't want to see, she didn’t want to feel…..she just wanted it to be over.

The night passed in heavy silence, her eyes closed tightly, shutting out the world and the emotions she didn't want to face.

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Saitama woke up first. By the time he was ready for the day. Showered and fully dressed, he found himself glancing back at the bed where Tatsumaki still lay, completely hidden under the covers. His gaze lingered longer than he intended, a strange uneasiness stirring within him. Last night had been… unexpected. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was avoiding him. Shaking his head, he pushed the thought aside.

“I should just make breakfast,” he muttered to himself, heading to the kitchen. There were plenty of supplies. He could whip up something decent for both of them.

Meanwhile, Tatsumaki stirred awake, her head was ringing slightly, likely from the single glass of alcohol she had during the reception. She turned onto her back, sighing. She had hoped the alcohol might help her deal with yesterday's situation, but it didn’t. Good thing she hadn’t drunk more, who knows what kind of mess she might have caused.

Her body heavy with irritation that simmered just beneath the surface. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes darting around the room. She glanced at the empty side of the bed, then at the darkened bathroom. He wasn’t there. Letting out a deep breath, she ran a hand through her messy curls, her mind trying to make sense of yesterday.

 ‘Did it really happen?’ She wondered. She felt gross, sweaty, and strangely off. Standing up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, only for the irritating sensation to resurface. ‘Did something went wrong? She shouldn’t feel like this, right?’ She was left with a gnawing sense of discomfort.

Everyone always said that intimacy was supposed to be one of the most fulfilling experiences a human could have something to look forward to, something that would bring you closer to the person you’re with. It made her feel uneasy. It felt like an old wound had just reopened.

Tatsumaki hug herself. ‘It doesn’t matter. You did it and didn’t run away.’ Mentality patted herself a good job.

Trying to brush the thoughts aside, she shuffled toward the bathroom, determined to get ready for the day. She didn’t have time to bask in unease. She was an adult, and adults dealt with these things. Besides, she was living with the strongest person alive. The last thing she wanted was to show weakness or act like a child.

She let out a small, dry laugh as she remembered something Saitama had called her the first time they met: “Sassy Lost Child.”

I’m older than him, she reminded herself. I have to prove I’m more mature, someone who can control her emotions.

After getting dressed in her plain black shirt and leggings, she walked out of the bathroom, ready to face him. To her surprise, she found him in the kitchen, cooking. She hadn’t expected that. Nervously, she walked closer, watching him from behind the counter.

Saitama had just finished plating a dish of onigiri and two half-boiled eggs. He noticed her standing there, her eyes fixed on him. Hoping to ease the awkwardness from the previous night, he said, “Hey, I made breakfast. I’m not sure what you like, so I just made something simple I think everyone enjoys,” as he placed the food on the counter.

There were four tall chairs by the counter, and he sat on one, hoping she would join him.

She glanced down at the breakfast, looking uneasy and still quite pale. Saitama grew more nervous, wishing she’d return to her usual nagging self instead of this quiet tension.

‘Should he talk about what happened yesterday? Something felt off’, he thought.

“So… yesterday was something, right? We should talk about what happ….” Before he could finish, she moved and sat down across from him, cracking one of the eggs onto a plate. She seemed surprised by how the egg wasn’t fully cooked, but he was even more surprised by her choice of a flat plate for a half-boiled egg.

‘Why the hell did she put a half-boiled egg on a flat plate?’ he thought, watching as the egg oozed out, resembling something slimy and unappetizing. It couldn’t even be scooped up with a spoon anymore.

Saitama couldn’t help but point it out. “Hey, Tatsumaki, you’re supposed to use a bowl for half-boiled eggs so you can eat it like soup,” he said, demonstrating as he added salt and black pepper to his own egg. She watched him, confused by his method, and immediately pushed her ruined egg aside, turning her head to avoid looking at him.

Noticing she hadn’t touched the onigiri either, Saitama spoke up again. “Hey, do you want me to make another egg? It’ll only take a few minutes.” He was about to stand up, but she stopped him with her voice, finally breaking her silence.

“I don’t like half-boiled eggs. They’re gross. How can you even eat that?” she said, sounding genuinely disgusted.

Saitama shrugged off her comment. “Well, a lot of people eat them like this. It’s delicious, especially with a little soy sauce,” he replied, drizzling some onto his eggs.

“Maybe you can have some onigiri instead. I made them…” But once again, Tatsumaki interrupted him, this time meeting his gaze.

“I don’t want onigiri. I don’t like eating rice in the morning,” she said, scrunching up her face in distaste.

‘Man, everything I made, she hates,’ Saitama thought, scratching his chin. “Then what do you want?”

Tatsumaki wanted to ask for an omelet but couldn’t admit it. She didn’t know how to make one herself, and admitting that would mean revealing her lack of cooking skills. To her surprise, Saitama offered again.

“I can help make it for you, anything on your mind?” he said, looking at her.

Her pride challenge up at the suggestion. Did he really think she was helpless and stupid didn’t know how to cook? Even if it was TRUE, he didn’t need to assume that!

“No! I don’t need you to make anything for me. I can make it myself if I want to!” she snapped, standing up and slamming her hands on the counter.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m Fubuki’s older sister. I’ve been taking care of her since I was ten. Of course, I know how to cook!” Her body began to glow with green energy as she levitated off the floor, showing dominance.

Saitama watched her little outburst with a calm expression, not surprised by Tatsumaki’s sudden flare-up. He'd seen it before, her temper flaring up over the smallest things.

Without saying another word, Tatsumaki marched back into their bedroom. A few moments later, she reappeared with her purse and sunglasses. She walked to the balcony, her small frame exuding frustration. Without hesitation, she stepped outside, hovering just above the ground for a split second before flying off into the sky.

Saitama sighed, watching her disappear into the distance. “Well, there she goes,” he muttered to himself, finishing the last bite of his breakfast. Saitama somehow felt relief she went back to her nagging self but he could tell she was avoiding his question earlier.

.

.

.

Saitama reflected on what had happened the previous night. It had been a new experience for him, one he wasn’t crazy about it or feel the need to repeat. He was okay with it. Then again, he had been apathetic about most things ever since he became overwhelmingly strong, much of life had felt that way to him, dull and unremarkable.

He had expected it to be different but instead, it had just been another task to check off. If Tatsumaki wanted to do it again, he’d go along with it. It wasn’t a big deal to him either way.

Everyone always said, "Oh, you're a guy, you'll enjoy it regardless," but that clearly wasn’t true in his case.

Thinking back on Tatsumaki's reaction yesterday night, he couldn’t help but feel unsure. Her discomfort had been obvious, and he hated the idea that she might have forced herself for the sake of their arrangement. He tried not to dwell on it too much, but it lingered in his mind.

It wasn’t like he was particularly experienced either. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Maybe that had something to do with his detachment. Or maybe, he mused, it was just who he had become.

Saitama’s thoughts wandered back to his college days, recalling a girl he had once dated or at least, he thought they had been dating. She had a kind smile, the kind that made other guys trip over themselves to get her attention. He never quite understood how he ended up with someone like her.

Eventually, the truth came out. She had been seeing other guys behind his back and only stuck around because she thought he was smart enough to help her with her assignments and exams. But the reality? He wasn’t particularly smart or dumb, for that matter. Just… bland.

“Oh well,” he muttered to himself, shrugging off the memory. That was the past. No use dwelling on it.

Now, he needed to figure out how to spend the rest of the day. The house felt big, but it was also incredibly boring. His eyes drifted to the new game console he hadn’t gotten around to setting up.

“Maybe I should call King,” he thought aloud. “He’s good at that kind of stuff.”

.

.

.

Tatsumaki wasn’t in the mood for anything today. She was already stressed, and her mind and body didn’t feel right. Her breakfast had been ruined by that bald-headed ass. Now she was flying around, looking for a café, hoping no one would notice her. She had become quite famous again after getting married. Now, everyone seemed to think she was some hot celebrity who needed to show off or some kind of people pleaser.

She hoped the local café she used to visit wouldn’t be too crowded. Tatsumaki slowly descended at her favorite café in City Q. It was small and modest, just the way she liked it. As soon as she walked in, the cashier at the counter noticed her.

“Tornado of Terror, OMG, what are you doing here?”

Tatsumaki wasn’t having it. She quickly stopped her before everyone else started noticing.

“Please, quiet down. I just want to order a chocolate muffin and a hot coffee to go, please,” Tatsumaki said slowly, hoping she’d understand.

But of course, the cashier squealed. “Tornado, I loved your wedding ceremony! I watched it live on TV yesterday, IT WAS AMAZING. I never thought I’d get to see something like that. I cried so many times. I always shipped you two back in high school!”

The Barista continue her yapping. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you and your hubby go on honeymoon vacation or something?”

Tatsumaki tapped her foot impatiently. Ignoring her annoying questions “I’ve been coming here for a year now. Why did you just notice me now? Ugh, whatever. Can I get my muffin and coffee now? I’ll give you a big fat tip if you can just do your job and shut your mouth.”

The cashier was surprised by her outburst. “Umm, okay, sorry… I’ll make it right now.”

Tatsumaki watched her from behind her sunglasses. She could tell the girl was shaking. ‘It’s her fault. Why did she have to make a scene? I asked nicely.’ Tatsumaki felt a little bad, but she pushed the thought away.

When the cashier handed her the coffee and paper bag, she tried to apologize again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you before. I guess it’s been a while since you were so active. It’s nice seeing you on TV again, you know but this time not fighting monsters, but happily married to One Punch Man,” she said, looking down at her shoes.

“I’m sorry again,” the cashier added, bowing her head. Tatsumaki nodded in acknowledgment no need to drag this small issue any longer.

Using her powers, Tatsumaki picked up her order and flew off, leaving the girl a $100 tip. The cashier was thrilled to see Tornado and even happier with the generous tip. ‘She’s so generous!’

Tatsumaki was enjoying her breakfast high in the sky, floating among the clouds. The sky was clear and bright blue, and the clouds looked especially fluffy today. She reached out and touched one. Such beautiful weather today, she thought. After taking the last bite of her muffin, she flew over a random city and noticed a monster lurking in an alley. A smile crossed her face. Finally, something to let loose on, she thought. Taking a small sip of her coffee, she shot down like a bullet, stopping just above the monster.

It was a piggy bank monster clutching a stolen purse. Tatsumaki gave a small cough to make her presence known.

The monster looked up and froze in panic, immediately recognizing her. “T-Tornado of Terror! I didn’t do anything wrong! I just found this purse on the ground!” it said shakily.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. “Ugh, just a weak-ass monster. Should I kill you, or send you to the Hero Association Prison’s Monster?” she asked, sounding bored.

Hearing this, the piggy bank monster grew furious and started spitting coins at her in a desperate attempt to fight back.

Tatsumaki reflexively activated her force shield while she took another sip of her coffee using her powers. The monster spat more coins like a machine gun, but Tatsumaki remained unbothered. With a flick of her finger, she stopped the coins midair and sent them flying back, even harder than before.

SPLAT! The monster was gone.

She looked at the scene. ‘Huh, that was too easy. Not even enough for a decent psychic workout,’ she thought. The paper bag and coffee cup still floated at her side. She twirled them in the air, spinning them faster and faster until they disintegrated into nothingness. She liked watching the process. ‘Oh, I wish I could use this on a bigger threat again, but for now, I’ll just use it on trash. I guess recycling trash is good for the environment,’ she thought.

As she flew from City C to City H and finally toward City A, where her new apartment with Saitama was, she paused in a deserted area just outside the city A. She hesitated to go home.

‘Should I really go back this early? It’s only noon. It’s not like I’m in a rush… plus, he’s probably busy… with other stuff.’ Tatsumaki thought back to the previous night of them together. ‘Do I have to deal with this every day?’ She question herself.

Floating in place, she paced back and forth in the empty desert, her emotions swirling. She wanted to avoid Saitama, but she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever.

Pulling her hair feeling frustrated. “Argh, Blast, why do I have to deal with this?” she yelled, unleashing a frustrated psychic wave that split the ground beneath her.

“Oops,” she muttered, glancing at the damage. ‘Good thing no one saw me lose control like that.’ With a flick of her hand, she used her powers to seal the gap back together.

Just then, a brochure flew across her face. She caught it and saw an advertisement for an apartment in City Q. She only had a few seconds to glance at it before the wind tore it away, but it sparked an idea.

Tatsumaki closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another, and another. As the sun warmed her skin, she squinted up at the sky. She felt calm staying out here then going back.

‘Eh, too early to go home. I could go shopping in City Q. I always liked that city, and it has a nice park.’

.

.

.

Saitama had just finished another round of gaming with King, but as usual, he lost. Frustrated, he accidentally crushed yet another controller.

“Dammit, not another one!” he groaned, taking a deep breath. “Alright, one more time! I know I can beat you this time.” He began rummaging around for another controller.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” King interjected. “You’ve already destroyed all your new controllers.”

“Huh, really?” Saitama paused mid-search. “Guess I’ll order some more.” He pulled out his phone and started browsing for replacements online.

Things had changed so much. King remembered a time when no one knew who Saitama was, and he couldn’t even afford his own games. Back then, Saitama was always borrowing from King. Now, he could buy anything with the tap of a finger. Between the extra attention from the Hero Association and multiple sponsorship deals, Saitama’s life had transformed over the last two years. Especially now, after his recent marriage, he’d become the “Golden Child” of the Hero Association. Everyone who knew about the contract saw him as a hero with a new sense of purpose. Talked about his purpose where is she?

As King glanced around the apartment, he noticed how eerily quiet it was. Too quiet. Where’s his petite, green-haired wife? He wondered. She was small, but with her loud and fiery personality, surely there should’ve been some noise.

“Hey, bro, where’s Tatsumaki? You two live together now, right? So where is she?” King asked, reclining on the sofa and setting down the controller.

Saitama shrugged, still focused on his phone.

King smirked to himself. He knew about the contract marriage and figured they might have... done it by now…. or maybe not. This was Saitama after all, lacking emotional depth and seemingly indifferent to most things. But what about that stuff? Did Saitama even find Tatsumaki attractive?

King thought back to their conversations before the wedding. He and Genos had done their best to “prepare” Saitama. Genos had lectured on biology with the precision of a science teacher, while King had shared his, uh, extracurricular knowledge. But Saitama had shown little interest, stuck in his usual state of indifference.

I wonder if I can get him to talk about it. King thought, formulating a plan to find out whether Saitama had really got laid. If he plays his card right he might get an answer.

“Hey, bro,” King started casually. “I’ve got a question for you. Do you think Tatsumaki’s hot? Are you into short girls?”

Saitama froze, clearly shocked. “What the hell? What kind of question is that?”

“C’mon, man. We’re bros, right? We can talk about this stuff,” King said, trying to sound reassuring. “If you’re having any... issues, I’m here to help. Don’t forget, I was the one helping you get ready for all the marriage stuff. We talked about this for weeks.”

King was starting to sweat. ‘Damn, Saitama might catch on that I’m fishing for details.’

Saitama, still looking clueless, scratched his head. King guessed that probably meant nothing had happened yet. Saitama was likely still adjusting to living with Tatsumaki, it wasn’t hard to imagine she could be a handful.

After a long silence, Saitama finally spoke. “I think she’s nice... when she’s not angry.” His gaze drifted to the flat-screen TV, which showed King’s character striking a heroic victory pose after yet another win.

King raised an eyebrow, sensing an opportunity. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got? C’mon, man, there’s gotta be more than that. She’s a freakin’ Tornado of Terror, and she’s your wife now. There’s no way you’re just calling her nice.”

Saitama shrugged, putting his phone down. He leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “What do you want me to say? She’s stubborn and powerful. It feels like every time we talk, it’s like handling a ticking time bomb. If I do anything wrong, the whole city might explode.” He scratched the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

King laughed at Saitama’s dramatic description. “That sounds hard man. This is Tatsumaki we’re talking about. But, you know, you’ve got to understand her situation too.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t she just known for being an angry munchkin?” Saitama sat up, his attention finally focused on King.

King gave him a look, realizing he had to spell it out. “Well, yeah, she’s got a temper. But think about it, she’s doing this for the same reasons as you.”

King gaze at Saitama hitting him to finish the sentence but Saitama look clueless as ever. King slapped his forehead.

“For saving the world, of course! You both got into this marriage for the greater good, not because you’re madly in love. It’s going to take time. You’re still figuring each other out, but when it matters, things will happen naturally.”

There was silent between them. King got worried did he have carried away saying the last sentence.

“She’s not that bad,” Saitama finally admitted. “She’s been through a lot, you know? She doesn’t talk about it much, but I can tell. I think she’s just... figuring things out in her own way.”

King was surprised by the response. “Wow, you actually care. So, you’re trying to make this work, huh?”

Saitama shrugged again. “I mean, yeah. Why not? We’re stuck together for now, right? Might as well try to get along.”

“Getting along, huh?” King smirked mischievously. “And by ‘getting along,’ you mean…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Dude.” Saitama cut him off with a sharp glare. “Don’t go there.”

King threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll back off. But seriously, you’re doing better than I expected. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise everyone and actually make a real thing out of this.”

Saitama didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the TV, lost in thought. For once, he wasn’t brushing things off with his usual indifference.

King noticed something different about Saitama. Maybe there was more going on beneath his usual bored expression. Could he actually be feeling something? Saitama always said his best moments came from epic battles, like the one against the Monster Deity but King couldn’t help thinking, wouldn’t it be better to have your best memory tied to something like love instead of destruction?

Of course, Tatsumaki wasn’t an easy woman to deal with, let alone romance. She had her own walls and issues. But the fact that she’d agreed to this marriage at all hinted at something deeper. Maybe there was hope for the two of them after all.

As the evening wore on, King realized it was time to head out. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, especially since Saitama was newly married. Hanging around too long felt rude. King smiled to himself as he left. For all of Saitama’s cluelessness, there was potential there.

.

.

.

After King left, Saitama tried to keep himself busy. He cooked, cleaned, watched TV, and even rearranged his closet. But no matter what he did, boredom crept in. ‘When is she coming back? he wondered. Did I mess up?’ The thought lingered briefly before he shrugged it off. ‘Nah, it couldn’t have been because of the eggs... right?’ Still, he made a mental note: no more half-boiled eggs when she was around.

He waited and waited for Tatsumaki. The hours dragged on, and by the time the clock struck 9 PM, he decided to head to bed early. Changing into his pajamas, he climbed into bed. Just as he was getting comfortable, he heard the soft sound of the sliding balcony door opening. That’s her, he thought. Of course, Tatsumaki would use the balcony, flying in was her style.

Moments later, the bedroom door creaked open, and he spotted her green hair peeking through. She hesitated, her expression like a teenager sneaking home late. Tatsumaki froze when their eyes met, her expression surprise as she realized he was still awake, sitting up on the bed.

He stayed quiet, letting her make the first move, but she didn’t. Saitama watched as Tatsumaki floated into the room carrying a few shopping bags. She avoided his gaze, quietly taking off her shoes and neatly floating them into the closet with her powers. Without a word, she placed the bags beside her makeup table, leaving them unpacked, and tucked her sunglasses and purse into a drawer.

Saitama finally broke the silence. “So, you went shopping?” he asked, trying to keep things light.

“Yeah,” she replied casually, still avoiding eye contact. “I needed to buy some skincare. I ran out before moving here.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he said. “I remember you unpacking a ton of clothes when we moved in, though.” His tone was neutral, but he couldn’t help wondering if those shopping bags had more clothes in them.

Tatsumaki ignored the remark, grabbed a towel, and headed toward the bathroom. It was clear she didn’t want to talk, her footsteps quick and deliberate. Just as she reached the door, though, Saitama spoke again, his voice cutting through the air.

“So... do you want to have sex tonight?”

She froze in place, her hand gripping the bathroom doorframe. Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence between them.

Tatsumaki closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. She had hoped to dodge this conversation, but deep down, she knew it was inevitable. After all, this was part of the contract, wasn’t it?

Tatsumaki swallowed hard, her mind racing as she processed his question. She turned to face him, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to gauge his intent. Saitama sat there on the bed, looking as nonchalant as ever, his round face betraying no hint of emotion. Was he serious? Joking? She hated how impossible it was to read him sometimes. That blank, almost bored expression of his gave away nothing.

“Is he serious?” she thought, her stomach twisting in uncertainty. All she managed to say was, “Huh…”

Saitama met her eyes this time, his tone calm and serious. “Do you want to do it? I mean, if you’re tired from shopping all day, we can just skip tonight.”

Her jaw tightened in shock. ‘Skip it? Can we just skip it forever?’ she thought, her mind screaming for her to blurt it out. But she stopped herself. No, she couldn’t risk that not yet. She had a plan, and she needed to stick to it. She need to do this so she could follow her own plan discreetly.

‘Just do it for a couple more times, only a couple more time’. She mentally noted herself for preparing what’s next. Tatsumaki forced herself to sound like her usual, dismissive self.

“Fine, let’s just get it over with, I’m not that tired” she muttered, folding her arms and rolling her eyes for added effect before heading toward the bathroom.

As she about to close the bathroom door, she heard him casually say, “Okay.”

Tatsumaki stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind her. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to her chest as she took slow, steady breaths to calm herself. ‘I’ve got this,’ she thought, trying to convince herself. ‘I just have to stay in control.’

Saitama wasn’t particularly excited or anxious about it. After how their first time went, he figured it might be time to set some ground rules of his own, especially since she already had her own demands.

Hearing the bathroom door creak open, Saitama quickly sat up and shifted to the side of the bed to give Tatsumaki some space. But before he could say anything, she zipped across the room like a bullet, diving under the comforter with speed.

Now completely hidden, she tucked herself tightly beneath the comforter, covering herself from head to toe. Saitama blinked, staring at the motionless lump she’d become.

Obviously, Saitama was curious. What was she doing? He sat back down on the bed and leaned over her, trying to make sense of her actions. He could hear her tiny voice mumbling from under the covers. “Chan wEh doh ith loike ttis?”

He blinked, confused. “What?” Unable to understand her muffled words, he instinctively pulled the comforter down to reveal her pouted face. Tatsumaki quickly yanked the comforter back up, covering herself again.

“I SAID, CAN WE DO IT LIKE THIS?” she shouted this time, her voice louder and clearer.

Surprised by her actions, Saitama pulled the comforter back down again. She immediately pulled it back up. He pulled it down once more, and this time Tatsumaki pouted, stuck her tongue out at him, and pulled the cover right back up over her face. This little back-and-forth tug-of-war with the comforter went on for a few more rounds turning the situation into an unexpectedly competitive standoff.

"What the hell are you doing?" Saitama grumbled, yanking the comforter down with more force, his patience wearing thin.

"I want to do it like this, OKAY?!" Tatsumaki snapped back, her face red with frustration as she tightened her psychic grip on the comforter, easily overpowering him and pulling it back up to cover herself.

"You can’t be serious," Saitama said, his voice tinged with disbelief. Without thinking, he grabbed the comforter with both hands, gave it one final tug, and tossed it completely off the bed, sending it tumbling onto the floor.

With the comforter gone, Tatsumaki had nowhere to hide. She had to face him, and she was pissed. Saitama finally got a clear look at her. She was wearing an oversized white shirt that reached down to her thighs, with a cute green cartoon broccoli graphic on the front. The broccoli had two tiny black dots for eyes and a simple smile. He was a bit surprised by her choice of pajamas, but he had to admit he kinda liked the shirt.

"Broccoli, huh?" he muttered, almost to himself.

Tatsumaki’s glare intensified. "What’s that supposed to mean?!" she barked, crossing her arms defensively.

"Nothing. It’s, uh... cute, I guess," Saitama said with a shrug, still processing how the fierce and fiery Tornado of Terror could wear something so unexpectedly wholesome completely different from yesterday pajamas.

Her face softened for a brief moment before she turned away, grumble.

He was still hovering over her. Tatsumaki folded her arms this time, looking annoyed. She was clearly uncomfortable with their current position but didn’t show it, too focused on her frustration.

Saitama instinctively gaze at Tatsumaki. He just noticed how petite Tatsumaki’s body really was. She didn’t seem quite as short as he usually remembered, or maybe he’d exaggerated it in his head before. Seeing her now, with her full frame in view compared to the night before, he guessed she was around chest height when standing.

 “What’s your problem, baldy? Can’t you just do it without looking at my face?” She glared up at him, trying to assert control.

"Nope, I don’t think so. That’s stupid," Saitama replied, his tone a bit more serious this time. Tatsumaki shoved him aside, and he let her. She used her powers to pull the comforter back, trying to set it neatly on the bed. As she tried to cover her face again, Saitama grabbed the comforter, his hand accidentally brushing against hers. She immediately jerked her hand away, as if she’d felt an electric shock.

“Shit, what's your problem? You were fine with it before, in the dark. Why is it a problem now? It’s the same thing!” she snapped, clearly pissed.

 “No, it wasn’t. I could still see your face a little, it wasn’t that dark,” Saitama responded back. Tatsumaki took a moment before responding, clearly trying to come up with a comeback.

“My face isn’t important. Why do you even need to see me anyway? The only important thing is my lower body part,” she hissed.

Saitama didn’t care about her argument, her opinion was not in a best interest. This was important for him too. After what happened yesterday, the way she reacted, he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her. Watching her expressions felt like a safe bet since she wasn’t exactly talkative about her feelings.

"Okay, fine then. We won’t do it at all," Saitama said as he started to get up. "I’ll just sleep on the sofa tonight." He quickly stepped off the bed and began walking out of the bedroom.

Just as he was about to leave, Tatsumaki stopped him with her voice.

"W-wait..." She looked both annoyed and apologetic enough. "Okay, fine, we’ll do it like yesterday, okay? I’ll just cover myself from the waist down, and you can fold back whatever’s necessary."

She wished she didn’t have to deal with him tonight, but she knew she needed to get this over with quickly so she could execute her own plans. She mentally reminded herself: Just do it a couple more times. But now there was a new problem, she didn’t want to face him. She was scared she might have another anxiety attack and wouldn’t be able to hide it this time.

She hadn’t even realized Saitama had already returned. He was climbing back onto the bed, leaning over her again. Tatsumaki jerked back slightly, startled to see him so close without warning. She tried to relax and laid back on the pillow. Activating her powers, she closed the curtains and switched off the lights, plunging the room into pitch-black darkness.

“Lights back on, 20% dim,” Saitama instructed the smart home system. Tatsumaki had forgotten all about it, he must have been playing with the electronics while she was gone.

Tatsumaki shot him an annoyed look. “What’s the problem now, baldy? Yesterday, you didn’t mind anything. You just did what I wanted. Why not today?”

Saitama raised a brow. “Yesterday, you set your rules. Today, I’m setting mine.” Tatsumaki scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to avoid, but I don’t want you hiding from me anymore,” Saitama said. Tatsumaki’s powers flared up, causing the room to glow faintly with a green tint. She glared at him.

“I am not hiding from you!” she snapped.

“Really? Then maybe don’t hide under the covers again this time,” Saitama responded calmly. Tatsumaki didn’t like where this was heading and wasn’t sure how to argue back. Damn it, she thought.

Saitama, looking a bit more concerned now, suggested, “How about we negotiate so we can both be comfortable with this situation?” He sat down next to her. Tatsumaki straightened up, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and her fists clenched at her sides.

Saitama started, “How about this we keep the curtains closed since the city lights can be overwhelming. Sometimes I feel like someone’s watching me. You can still use the comforter, but you can’t cover everything, I still want to see your face.”

"Ugh, fine, I won’t cover my face anymore," Tatsumaki grumbled, "but I want the lights fully off. And no kissing or other stuff." She laid down her own terms.

It was almost the same as the first time she stated her terms, but Saitama wasn’t having it when it came to turning the lights fully off. "Yeah, nope. Nice try using the lights off trick so I won’t be able to see you. I’ll follow the rest, but the lights stay at 20%."

Tatsumaki looked around. It was still quite bright, and she was definitely not comfortable with this setup.

"10% off the lights," she countered, crossing her arms and turning her head away from him.

"20% off, and we hold hands while doing it," Saitama smirked. He was enjoying the bargaining, trying to push his advantage she doesn’t know he was good at bargaining.

"15% off and NO holding hands! You promised!" Tatsumaki pouted. Saitama almost amused seeing her bargaining skill and easily fell into his trap.

"15% off the lights and no holding hands. Deal?" Saitama smiled, offering her a fist bump.

"15% off and no holding hands," she repeated, nodding. She ignored the fist bump.

"Hey, Tats, you're really good at bargaining, nice job," Saitama said, patted her head. She jerked slightly by his touch but she didn’t want to argue, he was about to do more than touching her head after this.

He shifting into position. “Can you stop calling me that? It’s Tatsumaki! Get it through your thick skull... Hmph."

He ignored her. Tatsumaki saw Saitama already moving into place, so she quickly adjusted herself too. She slid her legs under the covers, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and rested her head back on the pillow. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself.

Saitama asked the smart system to dim the lights to 15%. It wasn’t as bright as before, but it was still enough for her to see his silhouette and some of his features. She didn’t like this one bit. As he got closer, she could make out his face clearly, even down to the pores.

‘Shit, shit, shit... If I can see his face this clearly, he can see mine too...’ She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself as she felt her heartbeat speeding up. ‘Don’t panic, don’t panic… Think of something else, remember happy things…’

She quickly closed her eyes, making her legs wide, knowing what was about to come next. She tried to empty her mind and pull up old, good memories. She pictured herself at a festival with both of her parents. Fubuki was small, just learning how to walk. She remembered her mom carrying Fubuki, afraid she might run off again. Tatsumaki smirked faintly at the memory. Fubuki had always been a little troublemaker.

She recalled holding her dad’s hand, walking through the fair. The vibrant decorative lights hanging in various shapes and sizes amazed her. Everyone was dressed beautifully in traditional kimono outfits. She had worn one too, a pink kimono with a lovely sakura flower pattern. She loved seeing everyone smiling, even her parents.

It had been her first time trying candied apples, which her dad had bought for her and Fubuki. She remembered that first bite vividly, it was amazing and she instantly fell in love with it. The sweet and crunchiness just made sense together. Fubuki tried it too but got sick afterward. When their mom found out, she scolded their dad for being reckless, saying he shouldn’t feed that to a toddler. Tatsumaki ignored their argument in the background, happily enjoying her second apple candy she got from Fubuki. Yummy!

It was one of the few good memories she had. Even now, she knew it was built on a lie she’d told herself as a child, that her parents were happy, that they were a happily married couple. Happy? Not really happy, huh…

Tatsumaki snapped out of her thoughts as she felt his body move closer against hers. Today, he was nearer to her face, his cheek brushing lightly against hers. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing as he began.

The connection, the warmth, the magic that everyone always talked about… it wasn’t there.

Everything around her started to feel distant, muted, as though the walls were closing in. Tatsumaki squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to block it all out. Her mind raced, her breathing quickened, and her heart pounded erratically. Old memories began to surface, unbidden and relentless. She hated that room. She hated being held down.

Tears started to well up behind her tightly shut eyelids. She couldn’t stop it anymore. She couldn’t handle this anymore.

“Sai-tama… GET OFF ME!”

She glowed green, and with a forceful burst of her powers, she pushed Saitama off the bed. He hit the floor, confusion etched all over his face. Tatsumaki quickly run out of bed and bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.

Tears began streaming down her face as she leaned against the door, slowly sliding down to her knees. She cried and cried. She hadn’t shed tears in years. The last time she did was when she was ten. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry ever again….but now, she couldn’t hold them back. Everything suddenly came rushing back.

She remembered being a child when it all began. She was six years old, trapped in a cage at the facility.

“Hey kid, better use your powers, or you won’t be able to go outside and play,” they’d taunt her. Tatsumaki had tried to pretend she didn’t have any powers, but they didn’t believe her. They strapped her into a machine, making things even worse. That was when they discovered her abilities were far beyond anything they could have imagined.

“Damn, this kid is incredible. I think she might be the one, the Avatar everyone’s been looking for….,” one scientist said, amazed.

“Meh, let’s keep testing. I haven’t seen anything truly impressive yet…..” another replied.

“Let’s give her this shot… I just developed it. I don’t have any guinea pigs to test it on yet……” said a third scientist eagerly.

And that’s how it started, all kinds of medicines, injections, and pills. She tried to run, fight back, even biting and scratching them, but it always ended the same way. She was pinned down and injected. It happened so many times her arms swelled up. When her arms were too bruised, they moved to her neck, and when that wasn’t enough, they injected her thighs.

She never got real food. They didn’t care to give her proper meals. It was either candy or injections for nutrients.

She became so tired, feeling like the living dead. She wished she were dead until the monster came along. That was when she took back the thought of not wanting to live. She had lied to herself. She did want to live. She wanted to see the outside world again. She wanted to see her little sister again. She had truly believed she couldn’t do anything, that she was helpless, until he came along. Blast saved her. He made her strong… or at least that’s what she believed at the time.

Tatsumaki woke up, staring at her surroundings and realizing she had accidentally fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. She rubbed her eyes, noticing the crust of dried tears. She tried to wept them away but the tears had already dried. Slowly, she tried to lift herself up, but her muscles were sore, her body heavy. She felt awful.

She couldn’t believe she’d dreamed about her past. She thought she’d moved on, thought she’d forgotten it all. But the memories resurfaced like a storm, leaving her shaken. She tried to make sense of what had happened yesterday.

“Oh shit…” she whispered under her breath. She had lost control. Worst of all, Saitama had seen her panic and cry. What would he think of her now? Would he report this to Blast? What would Blast think of her? Had she failed as a hero? The thought gnawed at her. She couldn’t face him……not like this.

She stood up and splashed water on her face. When she looked in the mirror, she flinched. She looked terrible. There had always been faint lines under her eyes, but now her face was red and puffy, with fresh, swollen bags under her eyes. Her complexion was pale, as though she’d seen a ghost. She felt weak. God, she hated this feeling…..hated being so vulnerable.

The irritation she felt earlier began to creep back in. She hated everything about herself in that moment. She hated Saitama, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong or forceful to her. But still, a part of her was angry. She needed someone to blame, yet but deep down……it was her own fault. Still, she decided to push that thought aside for now.

She walked over to the shower, needing a moment to think. As she turned on the tap, cold water poured down. She always preferred cold showers over hot ones. They helped her think and made her feel refreshed. Standing under the water, she leaned back against the bathroom wall for support, not realizing how weak her legs felt or how sore her body was. Maybe it was from sleeping on the floor… or maybe it was from… No, it couldn’t be because of that… Nah, never mind. She ignored her last thought.

Opening her eyes, she reached for the body wash on the shower rack, only to realize she hadn’t even taken off her shirt yet. ‘I must be really messed up,’ she thought, frustrated that she couldn’t even handle something as simple as undressing. Taking a deep breath, she emptied her mind, crouching down in the shower to think through her next steps.

‘I think I’ve done enough... He would understand, right?’ She tried to reassure herself, thinking about Blast. ‘He would accept this... right?’ But what if he found out about her situation but then she remembered: Blast wasn’t even in this dimension right now. She might get away but what if the Hero Association found out about this? And reported back to Blast!

A voice echoed in her mind. He will be disappointed in you... Remember when you two fought, how he looked at you?

But I’ve done enough, right? She argued with herself. This was all part of the plan before coming back here… Just do it a couple more times, get pregnant and it would be over.

As she washed herself from head to toe, the familiar fragrance of her body wash filled the air, but it brought no comfort.

But last night didn’t… She shook her head, cutting off the thought. No, a lot of people get pregnant after the first time. This should be enough.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and walked over to the sink. Wiping away the fog on the mirror, she stared at her reflection.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she whispered to herself.


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Wedding night... yeah, I'm done with that.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

"Execute the plan....."

The first thing on Tatsumaki's mind was, “Execute the plan," as she slowly opened the bathroom door. She took a peek around the bedroom, glad the door didn’t squeak as she opened it wider. Relief washed over her when she saw he wasn’t there anymore. She had no desire to face him, answer his questions, or see his stupid, annoying egg-shaped head. Everything about him made her think, "Yuck."

Leaving the bathroom, the familiar chill of the air brushed against her skin. Each step she took echoed her growing nerve. She could hear Saitama moving around outside their bedroom, blissfully unaware of the storm that had just passed within her.

She slowly walked over to her large closet and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Leaning against it, she locked it with a soft click. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, steadying her mind. When she opened her eyes, she grabbed the first thing in front of her to dress up. She wear a simple white top and a green skirt.

After dressing, she frantically searched through her belongings. She planned to pack light, grabbing the first things she saw: a few clothes, pajamas, and whatever else she could shove into her backpack. ‘What else do I need?’ she thought, looking around the closet in a panic. ‘Ugh, I can’t think straight!’ She couldn’t bear standing in that closet any longer, or in that place at all. She felt about to explode, as she stomped her foot in frustrated.

The impact caused a box to drop from the top shelf, its lid ajar. A familiar black fabric spilled out, her hero outfit. She hadn’t worn it in a while and realized she missed her old self.

She didn’t need it, not really. But longing for something that once made her happy, she gently placed it into her bag without a second thought.

She felt the sting of tears welling up again.

‘No stop. You are strong, Tornado of Terror!’ She shut her eyes tight preventing the tears coming out. After a few moments, she steadied her breathing and took a small, shaky step forward, ready to leave the closet. Catching a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the doorknob she clutched. Keep going. You can do this. The mission is complete. You can leave now, she told herself.

“No more tears, got it,” she whispered aloud, firming her resolve. Reassured, she slowly opened the closet door. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she braced herself, ready to pounce out of there.

She quickly walked toward the bedroom door. To get to the balcony, she’d have to pass through the living room and kitchen. Be prepared if you see him, she reminded herself.

As she stepped into the living room, the sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the space with a warm glow. It felt strange, almost foreign, after the panic of last night.

There he was. Saitama lounged on the sofa, flipping through TV channels with his usual neutral expression.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, startled by his presence. She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d cursed aloud.

Saitama’s head turned toward her, his expression shifting to mild surprise. “Oh, hey. You’re up,” he said gently, his tone softer than she expected.

For a moment, Tatsumaki froze, unsure of how to respond. Would he still see her as the strong hero she was before? Or would he remember her cowardness?

Saitama placed the remote on the table and stood, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He seemed as hesitant as she was. “Let’s talk about what happened yesterday….. Something went wrong, right?” His eyes met hers, searching for answers.

Tatsumaki quickly averted her gaze, unable to face him. His words barely registered in her mind, his voice sounded muffled, like it was wrapped in layers of cotton.

She knew she need to act now before things gets ugly.

“Tats…. Tatsumaki are you okay?” he asked concerns in his voice.

Saitama wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. It felt like walking on eggshells. Anything he said or did might make things worse, but ignoring Tatsumaki wasn’t an option even she attends to ignore her feelings.

“Was it my fault?” he asked softly.

Before Tatsumaki could fully process his words, he was suddenly in front of her, his expression filled with concern. Her body reacted instinctively, shifting into fight mode.

In an instant, she unleashed her psychic powers at full force. The entire apartment trembled violently, as if an earthquake had struck.

Tatsumaki’s first instinct was to protect herself. Don’t let him grab you! Her mind raced with alarm, fueling the surge of her power.

Saitama waved his hands defensively. “Whoa, wait! I’m not doing anything……”

Before he could finish, a massive physic push slammed into him like a tidal wave. The force sent him flying backward, crashing through the kitchen, smashing through the hallway walls, and breaking through the building itself until he finally landed outside on the pavement below.

Dust and debris settled around him as he groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. “Man, she’s really strong…”

Gripping the edge of the shattered floor above him, Saitama pulled himself back up effortlessly. In a blink, he dashed back into the apartment, his speed leaving gusts of wind.

But Tatsumaki was already gone. He caught sight of her small figure just leaving a faint trail of psychic energy behind, her green hair whipping wildly in the breeze.

“Tatsumaki!” he called out, his voice firm yet steady. She didn’t respond. She didn’t even glance back.

Saitama stood at the balcony, staring after her. He sighed, resting his hands on the railing. “Guess I handled that wrong…”

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The kitchen sink pipe had burst, creating a mini waterfall that spilled onto the floor, soaking everything in its path. The wet mess mingled with chunks of concrete debris and fine dust that covered the apartment. A massive hole in the wall opened the space to the outside, providing a view of the opposite side of the city.

If they had neighbors nearby, this would undoubtedly turn into a huge issue and not just a noise complaint.

A cool breeze drifted through the gaping hole, brushing against Saitama’s shirt and ruffling the edges of the chaos. For a moment, he hoped it signaled Tatsumaki’s return, but she didn’t come.

The wind, though gentle, carried a faint reminder of her powers. Forceful, unyielding, and impossible to ignore.

Saitama rested on the sofa in the living room, staring blankly at the ceiling. With a quiet sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to piece together what had happened the night before.

He was stunned, suddenly finding himself pushed to the floor. Before he could react, she had bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking herself inside. He was shocked by what had just happened. He didn’t realize she was having a panic attack. He was so determined to make sure she was okay, even making sure the lights wasn’t completely off so he could checkup on her but somehow, he was too focused on something else.

“Crap, crap, crap,” he muttered to himself, pressing a hand against his forehead. How did I miss that she was uncomfortable? He replayed the events in his mind, remembering their first night together. She’d been hesitant then, but somehow, she had managed to persuade him to continue. He should have known the second time was a bad idea. He thought he had been careful, thinking dimmed lights would make her feel better… but he had screwed things up.

Saitama carefully tried to remember everything. He knew he hadn’t done anything yet. Did I touch her too hard? No, he had barely touched her. But he must have done something.

Saitama still lounged on the sofa, he slowly turned his head toward the bedroom, his eyes falling on the open door. He remembered what had happened after she locked herself in the bathroom. He had walked over to check on her.

Standing in front of the bathroom door, he hesitated. He raised his hand, ready to knock, but stopped himself just before his knuckles hit the wooden surface. From the other side of the door, he could hear her soft sobbing.

He clenched his fists, feeling a wave of devastation wash over him. He wanted so badly to go in, to make sure she was okay. But deep down, he knew barging in would only make things worse.

So he stayed.

Saitama slid down to the floor and sat against the door, waiting. Hoping she would calm down. Hoping she would open the door. Hoping she would talk to him. He waited to hear her angry voice again, to hear her yell at him, to tell him what he had done wrong.

He sat there, waiting for her, until morning. The soft glow of sunlight began to filter through the curtains in their bedroom. Slowly, the curtains opened on their own, part of the modern technology in the house. Saitama knew it was seven in the morning. Every day at this time, the curtains automatically opened themselves.

He hadn’t realized until then that he hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. It didn’t feel right to casually go to bed after everything that had happened.

Hours of sitting, waiting, and staring blankly at the cold, hard floor passed. Then, suddenly, he heard the shower turn on from the other side of the door. He shifted slightly, leaning closer and pressing his head against the door to confirm what he thought he’d heard. The sound of running water assured him Tatsumaki was using the shower.

Somehow, he felt a small sense of relief at hearing her move around inside.

Deciding it was best to give her space, Saitama stood up and left the bedroom. He figured she needed time to get ready for the day.

But he knew he couldn’t let this go. They had to talk, he had to figure it out. After all, marriage was supposed to be a lifelong gig. The thought of living with this awkward tension between them was unbearable. He didn’t know how to deal with it, but he knew one thing for sure. He couldn’t stand the idea of things staying this way.

And after how their talk had gone… badly…

The way she had looked at him that morning lingered in his mind. Her eyes were filled with something he couldn’t quite place, but it had crushed him. He pressed a hand to his chest, a dull ache spreading through him. It had been so long since he’d felt this kind of discomfort….this guilt. He wished he knew what he had done so he could fix it, but it seemed Tatsumaki had already decided that leaving was the best option. He hope she return home soon.

But something linger in his mind, he did saw Tatsumaki carrying a bag he can only hope that means nothing. Tatsumaki will come back, right?

Saitama sat back up straight. Their apartment was in serious need of repairs and reconstruction. Saitama pulled up his phone from his pocket, trying to decide who to call. He wasn’t exactly sure who would be the right person for a situation like this.

He stared at his phone for a while, scrolling through his contacts. One name stood out: Fubuki. Should he?

He stared at the name blankly.
Nope, he thought. Too much sensitive information. Too much talking needed. Plus, if Tatsumaki finds out I ratted her out to her sister, she’d go full-on psycho.

Next option: Genos and King. His finger hovered over the group chat voice call button. But then, Stitch’s number popped up on the screen. Saitama paused for a moment, considering it. After a few seconds, he made his decision.

“Hello?” Saitama said, trying to sound casual.

“SAITAMA! What happened? I got an alert about a break-in at your apartment! Did a monster attack? An enemy? We checked the satellite feed, and it looks like your apartment half of it completely destroyed!”

“Err… yeah, about that…” Saitama scratched the back of his head. “I don’t really know how to explain it, but could you send someone for repairs ASAP? I kinda wanna cook something for lunch later.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Stitch, sitting in his office, felt a drop of sweat roll down his temple. ‘How is he so casual about this?’

Stitch took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me your apartment looks like it’s been hit by a missile, and you’re worried about lunch?”

“Yeah,” Saitama replied matter of fact. “I’m hungry, and I can’t really cook with, you know, half the kitchen gone. Can you help or not?”

Stitch sighed, his frustration mixing with reluctant amusement. “Fine. I’ll send a repair team, but this is coming out of someone’s pocket, and I doubt it’ll be mine. Was it a fight? What happened?”

Saitama hesitated, glancing at the gaping hole in the wall. “Uh... sort of. Let’s just say it wasn’t a monster or an enemy. It was... domestic.”

“Domestic?” Stitch repeated, now more confused than ever.

“Yeah, you know... a little spat,” Saitama said, his tone casual as if describing a minor disagreement.

“A spat doesn’t usually result in structural damage, Saitama!” Stitch exclaimed. “What exactly happened?”

Saitama scratched his head, trying to find the right words. “It’s complicated. Anyway, thanks for the help. I’ll text you my address in case you forgot it.” Without waiting for a response, he hung up.

Saitama sighed. He managed to dodge the bullet….. well, sort of. He placed his phone on the table. Saitama realise telling anyone about this situation was a bad idea. The privacy of married life shouldn’t be discussed with outsiders. Even if he wanted to talk to someone, he needed to think about Tatsumaki’s situation too. How would she feel?

He knew he couldn’t cover for Tatsumaki forever.

He stared at the mess in his apartment, the shattered wall, the drenched floor, the scattered debris. He sighed again, dragging a hand across his face.

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A week after.

The morning sun just reach a small apartment’s window. The single bed just place right next to the window, there lay Tatsumaki The Tornando of Terror. The sunlight kissed her face, forcing her to wake up and face the day. She grumbled softly, opening her eyes slowly as she stared at the ceiling.

Tatsumaki was resting in her small, humble apartment in a secret city, far away from any disturbances. Alone. Here, she could sleep however she wanted without worrying about another person next to her. Alone. Without the fear of anyone touching her in any way.

She was definitely alone.

She wished she could close her eyes a little longer, wishing she could drift back to sleep. In reality, she barely able to sleep, the nightmares come rushing back. A reminder of how she used to be a guinea pig in some lab, how they keep touching her with those filthy hands and how her parents abandoned her.

She had stopped having those kinds of nightmares when she was a teenager when her powers had fully developed and reached their peak. In fact, Tatsumaki hadn’t thought about her past much, not since Tsukuyomi was taken down and the world was saved after the Great Battle.

She thought she had moved on.

Or at least, that’s what she had told herself before.

‘Why can’t I move on? Why can’t I be normal or at least happy like Fubuki?’

Fubuki had moved on her past a long time ago, since middle school. Their relationship had even gotten better after the Great Battle.

‘Then why am I still like this?’ she quietly mumbled to herself.

She stare at her ceiling’s fan spinning. She was bored. She wants a distraction. But she couldn’t go anywhere without being spotted. Paparazzi were everywhere, eager to pick her apart and make her the next target of gossip. ‘This is what happens when you become famous again.’

Tatsumaki grumbled to herself and closed her eyes again.

She worried that Saitama might be searching for her too. She was also concerned that Fubuki might have noticed she had gone missing and more importantly, that she had left Saitama. She needed to avoid her sister at all costs, at least until she figured out what to do next.

Fubuki had been messaging her several times since the wedding, but Tatsumaki couldn’t bring herself to respond to any of her stupid questions.

“Where did you go, did you just run away with Saitama?”

“Enjoy your time together Onee-chan….. Don’t forget about protection. Oh wait never mind :P”

“Onee-chan don’t forget to wear what I asked you.”

“Its’s been a few days. How’s life as a housewife?”

Tatsumaki’s eyes snapped open. “Fuck that. I’m nobody’s wife.”

But the thought of her being someone’s wife was still valid. Legally, by term and contract, she was still Saitama’s wife.

Tatsumaki sighed at the thought of him and buried herself in her white cotton blanket, letting out a frustrated growl under the covers. She couldn't ignore the weight on her finger, her thumb rubbed against the ring. It was bulky and shiny impossible to ignore. Even in the dim light under the blanket, the diamond-studded band glimmered, its brilliance refusing to be hidden, it shows how authentic the diamonds are even under the dark it still sparkle like stars.

She exhaled sharply ‘I wonder what he’s doing now’.

She had left without any proper explanation. Did he really care when she left? The way he had looked at her was filled with concern, but Tatsumaki refused to believe he cared about her.

"Argh, whatever," she muttered, yanking the blanket down. "He just wanted to use me, that’s all. The thing that needed to be done is done!"

Feeling restless, she threw off the covers and stepped out of bed getting ready for the day.

She went to her small bathroom wash her face and brush her teeth. After refreshing herself she walked over to her small kitchen, turning on the stove. Using her psychic powers, she floated the kettle to the stove, placing it on the burner to boil.

The kettle finally let out a loud whistle, indicating the water had reached its boiling point. Tatsumaki let out a loud yawn, covering her mouth as she turned off the stove. She floated a mug and a jar of coffee to her hands. She scooped two teaspoons of coffee into the mug and poured the hot water from the kettle. Lastly, she retrieved a carton of milk from the fridge, adding a small splash to turn it into a latte.

Tatsumaki walked over to her small sofa, which was just big enough for two people. She casually turned on the TV using her powers, flipping through random channels. She inhaled the aroma of her coffee, blowing on it a couple of times before taking a sip. She made a disgusted face.

“Yuck, this tastes weird. I guess this is what happens when you make something yourself.” Just make it more wanting to go outside for the café she like but remembered to stay low for the time being.

Despite disliking the coffee, she continued drinking it, not wanting to waste it. She finally stopped on a news channel. The talk host was droning on about the usual topics: weather, crime rates, and the economy. Nothing but boring stuff.

“Huh”, she mused, tapping her fingers against the ceramic mug. ‘I expected rumors about me and Saitama by now’.

She figured Saitama would’ve started talking crap about her already, saying she’d left and destroyed their home. To be honest, her plan wasn’t foolproof. She hadn’t thought things through when she decided to leave. Surely, Saitama would have reported her to the Hero Association.

But there was nothing. No gossip, no headlines, no news about it at all.

She flipped through the channels again until she landed on a talk show featuring two hosts, the same ones who had covered her wedding ceremony.

Tatsumaki’s eye twitched in irritation. “These two again?”

They had gossiped endlessly back then, and now, they were at it again, debating whether she and Saitama were a match made in heaven or hell. The hosts threw out wild theories about how the two ended up together. Did they start dating after the Great Battle? Was it love at first sight, or a bizarre accident?

“Let’s find out more after this commercial break,” one host teased.

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. ‘Why do people find this entertaining? Can’t they just leave it alone?’ They got married, the media had their spectacle, and now they were trying to milk every little detail.

She changed the channel again, letting it land on a documentary about penguins. Deciding she needed something to do, she got up and headed back to the kitchen. She started boiling some eggs, waiting a few minutes before turning off the stove. Using her psychic powers, she floated the two eggs out of the pot, cracked the shells perfectly, and placed them on her plate. With another flick of her powers, she twisted the shells into nothingness until they were completely gone.

She quickly ate the two eggs while standing in the kitchen, not wanting to waste any time. Afterward, she cleaned herself up and tidied the kitchen, finishing everything in quick motions since she used her powers for everything.

Suddenly a loud alarm rang in a distance. She felt a familiar feeling tingle rush inside her, something almost reminisce. Her pulse quickening.

Swallowing the last bite of her egg, she quickly moved to the window. Pressing her hands and cheeks against the glass, she tried to peek outside.

She saw thick smoke rising not too far from the nearby city.

‘Is that a monster alarm?’ Tatsumaki thought to herself. ‘No, wait that is not just any other monster alarm, its……’

BOOOM!

A deafening explosion echoed across the city as a massive pink pig-like monster emerged from the smoke. The beast let out a thunderous roar, shaking the ground and rattling buildings.

“A dragon-level monster!” Tatsumaki finally finishing her sentence with her voice tinged with excitement.  She smile seeing such beautiful sight. Without a second thought Tatsumaki glow in a beautiful green hue color manifesting her powers, radiating how excited she was. She floated swiftly to her drawer, rummaging through it for her hero outfit. In mere seconds, she had changed and shot out of the window at supersonic speed, the rush of air trailing behind her.

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Meanwhile, the city’s alarm system blared over the speakers:

“Alert! Alert! Alert! Please evacuate to the nearest shelter. Monster level: Dragon. Repeat: Please evacuate to the nearest shelter. Monster level: Dragon.”

The warning barely had time to sink in before a monstrous figure loomed over the skyline. The enormous pink beast, towering at 270 meters, turned its grotesque head toward one of the alarm pillars. With a grunt of annoyance, it grabbed the structure, yanked it from the ground, and swallowed it whole.

“What an annoying thing! I can’t believe they still have these old monster alarms,” it growled, its deep voice reverberating through the air.

The monster’s body featured six extra limbs, each adorned with massive, razor-sharp claws. The monster’s grotesque back bristled with razor-sharp spines, each one oozing a lava that sizzled and burned through the debris it touched. Its tail, long and whip-like, swung wildly, smashing buildings and toppling them like dominos. Its sheer presence exuded terror, its savage demeanor and destructive power.

The pig monster's presence alone was enough to send waves of panic through the city. It was clear that the destruction in City Q had shattered the peace that had lasted for two years. That peace was now gone. Citizens ran in panic toward the shelters still provided by the Hero Association.

A deep, guttural laugh rumbled from the beast’s chest as it raised its massive head toward the sky.

“I am Malboar, the Infernal Glutton! I am here for a great purpose bestowed upon me by The Deity himself! I will destroy all men, women, and children!” Malboar roared as he continued his rampage through the city.

A little girl ran down the street, her tiny fingers clutching desperately onto her mother’s hand. They had fallen behind the fleeing crowd, the closest shelter had already reached capacity, leaving them stranded in the open.

The mother’s breath came in ragged gasps as she yanked her daughter forward, desperately searching for another escape. But before they could make it any farther….

BOOM!

A massive foot slammed into the pavement just inches ahead of them, blocking their path. The sheer force sent shockwaves through the street, knocking the mother off balance. She gasped and stumbled, immediately twisting her body to shield her child as best as she could.

The little girl clung to her mother, sobbing, her tiny frame trembling in fear.

Above them, Malboar’s massive face loomed closer. His molten eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he took in their terror.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Malboar sneered, his guttural voice vibrating the air. “You look tired. You should be resting… inside my belly!” His maniacal laughter shook the ground, sending heavy vibrations through the air.

The mother hugged her child even tighter, ready to make a desperate attempt to flee, but Malboar’s massive claw snatched them both before they could move. They struggled in vain, dangling helplessly in his grip as he lifted them toward his gaping maw.

Tatsumaki shot through the sky, her green aura blazing like a comet against the bright blue horizon. The closer she got to the scene, the clearer the devastation became. Entire streets lay in ruin, cars were crushed like soda cans, and panicked citizens scrambled for safety.

As she approached, Tatsumaki smirked. The pig-like monster was about to make a meal of what appeared to be women and a child. She could only assume the larger figure was the child’s mother.

Tatsumaki green aura flaring even brighter as she closed in. “Hey piglet, Let them go!” Tatsumaki's voice sliced through the air like a blade.

Malboar paused, turning his yellow eyes upward just in time to see Tatsumaki hovering above him, her emerald aura glowing with an intense. She glared at him, her petite form deceptively unimposing, but the raw power radiating off her was undeniable.

“You think you can just snack on innocent people in my city?” she said, voice laced with disdain. “Time for you to go on a permanent diet!”

Before Malboar could respond, Tatsumaki unleashed a barrage of telekinetic force. The air vibrated as a hailstorm of debris rubble, shards of glass, and chunks of asphalt hurtled toward the monster, slamming into him like a meteor shower. The force knocked his massive claw open, sending the mother and child tumbling toward the ground.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Tatsumaki caught them mid-air with her psychic powers, gently lowering them to safety far from the battlefield.

“You’re safe now,” she muttered, though her gaze remained locked on Malboar.

The monster roared, staggering back. His molten saliva dripped to the ground, igniting small fires as his six-clawed limbs dug into the earth. “You! I have been waiting for you Tornado of Terror. Don’t you recognize me?”

Tatsumaki was not one for talking back to monster she usually just go for the kill back in her hero days but today she decided to entertain the monster besides it’s not like every day she could fight a dragon level treat.

“Geez, I don’t know are you my fan or something?” Tatsumaki was crossing her arms high above the sky radiance brighter showing her dominance.

Malboar eyes widen in anger. How dare you not recognize me? You killed me a week ago! I was the piggy bank monster that you killed without mercy! But now I reborn as The Deity gave me a chance to take revenge on you…...bla bla bla.”

Tatsumaki yawns covering her mouth with her hand. Hearing his half bake ass story was long and boring, now she remembers why she just instanced killed back in her day, they start yapping nonstop.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tatsumaki replied, brushing off his monolog. “Show me want what can you do little piglet.”

“Little Piglet! Little Piglet! I am Malboar, the Infernal Glutton! He snarled, his massive bulk surging forward. His six claws gouged deep trenches into the ground as he charged, his massive tusks aiming to skewer Tatsumaki. Lava spewed from his nostrils, igniting the air around him in a searing inferno.

But Tatsumaki was ready.

With a wave of her hand, she conjured a massive psychic barrier. Malboar collided with it, the impact shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the air. The barrier held firm, reflecting the monster's sheer weight and fury.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, bacon-boy,” she taunted.

Malboar roared, the lava coursing through his veins glowing even brighter as he prepared a devastating attack. His mouth opened wide, revealing a swirling orb of molten energy forming within.

“Let’s see if you can handle this. My most powerful attack!” he roar, unleashing a fiery beam of destruction directly at her.

Tatsumaki’s eyes narrowed. The beam was powerful, tearing through buildings and turning everything in its path into ash. But she didn’t flinch. Instead, she raised her hands, her psychic aura intensifying to an almost blinding green light.

The beam collided with her aura, the sheer force threatening to overwhelm her but Tatsumaki pushed back, channeling her psychic strength without a sweat. The beam twisted and bent, the green energy surrounding it like a vice, until it was redirected straight back at Malboar.

The monster’s eyes widened in shock as his own attack struck him square in the chest, the explosion ripping through his flesh and sending molten chunks of his body flying in every direction. He stumbled back, roaring in pain and fury.

Tatsumaki still floating high in the sky looking down and bored at the monster. “Is that all you got? I guess you’re are just another boring low ranking monster, a tiger level perhaps. No wait, you lower than tiger-level.” Tatsumaki taunted, her tone cutting and sharp.

Tatsumaki smirked and glare down at him. “You’re just a worm, not even a monster to begin with”.

The battle was far from over, but one thing was certain, Malboar was devastated, even he used his powerful attack he was still no much for the Tornado of Terror.

Malboar had no choice but to flee, but just before he could act, he felt as if he were stuck in a trance. A voice echoed in his mind, promising him even greater power.

Tatsumaki was about to activate her signature psychic power to end the pig monster when suddenly his body started to shake uncontrollably, and his eyes glowed golden. The monster body’s skin suddenly cracks underneath. It glowed bright gold, triggering a massive explosion of light that shook the entire city. The air was thick with smoke and dust, and huge chunks of meat rained down onto the ground.

Tatsumaki quickly used her psychic barrier to shield herself and the shelters across the city. She was certain this wasn’t her doing. Glancing down at her hands, she realized she hadn’t even activated her powers yet.

“What is happening?” she muttered.

Suddenly, a massive claw lunged at her, but her quick reflexes allowed her to dodge with ease. As the dust cleared, the claw’s owner was revealed a much larger monster had emerged from the explosion.

The pig monster had grown to an enormous size, now towering at 818 meters just as massive as the Burj Khalifa tower.

Its new form was completely covered in thick white fur, and its glowing red eyes burned with terrifying intensity. The veins across its flesh pulsed ominously, glowing gold as the energy within surged to its spines and claws.

Without warning, the monster unleashed a barrage of glowing laser projectiles from the spines on its back, each one the size of a car, soaring through the air at high speed.

Tatsumaki’s expression sharpened. “Now we’re talking.”

With a wave of her hand, the air around her seemed to ripple and distort as she used her psychic powers to redirect the laser beams. They spiraled in mid-air and shot back toward the monster, exploding against its hide with a series of deafening booms.

The beast stumbled back, its hide smoking where the projectiles had struck, but it roared again, undeterred. Its claws tore through a nearby building, reducing it to rubble in a single swipe.

“Looks like you’re tougher than you look,” Tatsumaki admitted, crossing her arms as she floated higher, her aura flaring brighter. “But you’re still no match for me.”

“ROAR! I AM MALBOAR, THE WHITE INFERNAL GLUTTON, AND I WILL KILL YOU, TORNADO OF TERROR! AFTER THAT, I WILL FLAUNT YOUR DEAD BODY TO THE WORLD AND TO YOUR LOVER, ONE PUNCH MAN!”

The white pig monster grinned, its jagged teeth oozing with saliva as it taunted her.

“I WILL BEAT ONE PUNCH MAN AND BRING HIS BODY TO THE DEI…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Malboar’s eyes widened in shock. Tatsumaki’s aura flared with terrifying intensity, surrounding her in a thick, dark green glow.

Clenching both of her fists at her sides, she focused her power, the aura around her darkening and intensifying until the very air seemed to hum with raw energy. A powerful cyclone of destruction formed as the rubble and debris scattered across the city lifted into the air, twisting and swirling around her in a violent storm.

Tatsumaki was mad. No she was in RAGE.

“HAHAHA, you think you can beat me, BEAT ME!” her voice cut thru the air.

“You think you can used me to get One Punch Man? As if you can used ME as bait. I am beyond powerful and I am no damsel in distress, you dumb ass peace of bacon!!!”

She hurled the storm of debris at the monster, each piece propelled with the force of a missile. The monster roared in defiance, swinging its claws and tail to deflect the onslaught, but it was overwhelmed. The debris smashed into it relentlessly, forcing it to stagger back further and further.

Yet, the beast wasn’t done. It slammed all six of its claws into the ground, shaking the earth violently. Cracks spread like lightning across the city, and from those cracks erupted streams of molten lava, threatening to consume everything in its path.

Tatsumaki frowned, the heat and danger of the lava adding a new layer of destruction to the beautiful street of City Q . “Alright, piglet, let’s end this before you cause any more trouble.”

She shot downward, her aura blazing like a shooting star, ready to deliver the final blow.

The monster raised its massive claws, aiming to swat Tatsumaki out of the air like an insect. But she was too fast, darting around its strikes with ease. As she closed in, she extended her hand, and a brilliant green light erupted around the monster’s limbs.

With a sharp motion of her hand, she locked the monster’s limbs in place using her psychic energy. The creature roared in defiance, struggling against her power, but the green bindings only tightened as she floated directly in front of its face.

“You’ve had your fun,” Tatsumaki said coldly. “Now it’s my turn.”

She raised a hand, pointing a single finger at the monster’s face. The air around her shimmered as she closed her eyes, focusing on the monster’s aura. Seeing it’s aura she quickly seize it with her physics powers and began to twist it.

She had been waiting to do this on something bigger, something alive, for a long time. The last time she got to do this was two years ago, back in the hero era. The motion of it sent a thrill through her. She smiled slightly, waiting for the sound of the monster’s flesh and bones twisting into nothingness.

An itch she had been wanting scratch, maybe this could help her feel happy again, feel whole again just like before.

Suddenly, her physic twist aura got disrupt and massive explosion happen. Chunks of meat and blood splattered everywhere.

Tatsumaki’s eyes widened in shock. Who had disturbed her psychic grip? Did the monster evolve again?

‘There’s no way the monster could escape my psychic hold, no matter how strong it is… unless it was….’

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, annoying voice.

 “Oh it died, that was easy it only took one punch”. He sigh

There he was, back in his signature old hero outfit. Yellow jumpsuit, red gloves, red boots….But this time, his white cape had been replaced with red, making him look bolder and more striking.

Somehow, this time… he looked amazing in that red cape. He no longer looked scrawny a nobody hero.

Tatsumaki’s death glare seeing the sight of him.

“YOU BALD SHINNIG HEADED EGG SHAPE, SKIN HEADED ASS HEAD!!!??” Tatsumaki voice echo thru the whole city.

Saitama looked up, squinting as the sun shone brightly against the blue sky. His eyes finally adjusted, and he saw Tatsumaki floating high above the skyscrapers. She glowed with an intense green aura, her emerald hair flowing in the wind’s direction. She was wearing a black dress with her signature four slits, her hero outfit. That meant…

“Ohh, I punched her monster… Crap!” Saitama realized what he had done.

Tatsumaki hovered mid-air, her emerald hair whipping wildly as her psychic aura flared, painting the sky with streaks of green light. Saitama stood on the cracked road across from her.

“How dare you steal my kill? I was here first!”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t see you. I just saw the monster stood still in the middle of destruction of city might as well kill it.” Saitama waved his hand dismissively.

“The monster wasn’t standing still on purpose, you egghead! I was the one restraining him! How the hell did you not see me?! I was here the whole time!”

“I didn’t see you, you were just too small I guess.” Saitama shrugged making Tatsumaki more fuming with anger.

“WHAT THE HELL, YOU JUST CALL ME. I AM NOT SMALL!”

Tatsumaki wasn’t having it. First he basically steal her kill the only time she could use her signature physic powers on a massive monster and now he dare making fun of her size?!”

“You know what? I don’t care who you are! The hero among heroes or supposedly husband of mine. I am going to kill you!”

“Huh, wait what?” Saitama scratched his head lazily, barely having time to register what she was saying before.

She thrust her hand forward, and a massive chunk of the street ripped free, flying straight toward him. Saitama effortlessly punch the chunk making into small dust. 

"Come on, Tats. You're gonna break the whole city again," he said, sounding more annoyed than worried.

"Shut up! Stop calling me that"

She waved both hands, summoning a physic storm. Rubble, cars, and even entire lamp posts spiraled into the air, forming a whirlwind of destruction. The air itself seemed to ripple under the weight of her psychic energy.

“Avocado, Skinhead, Baldy!” Tatsumaki keeps screaming mocking Saitama with random nicknames as she throws cars and rubbles at him.

Saitama's patience was wearing thin with every word. Every name-calling insult coming from her mouth. He wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer.

“Listen here, Midget, I came here to stop the monster, and here you are making fun of my head!”

With a single leap, he closed the distance between them, appearing right in front of her. Tatsumaki’s eyes widened, a sudden flashback striking her….their night together, the lab and the scientist’s hands grabbing her.

He was almost too close to her but she recovered instantly, raising a psychic barrier around herself. Saitama’s fist came to a sudden stop just inches from the barrier, creating a shockwave that shattered windows for miles around.

With a flick of her wrist, the barrier expanded outward, sending Saitama hurtling back. He flipped mid-air and landed on his feet without a scratch.

“Did you just stop my normal punch?” Saitama looked back at his fist in mild intrigue. “Not bad,” he admitted, his eyes almost seeming to glimmer.

Tatsumaki smirked at his reaction, pleased that her psychic defense had caught his attention.

"But you’re still kinda small." Saitama adding the last remark just to piss her off.

Tatsumaki bristled. "Say that again, and I’ll send you into orbit!"

“Small.”

Now Tatsumaki was fuming with rage, her eyes practically bulging and the veins on her forehead pulsing visibly. The ground around them erupted as her fury reached its peak. She began hurling chunks of rubble at him, pieces ranging in size from bricks to car-sized boulders.

“At least my head isn’t so shiny it blinds people from space!” Tatsumaki retorted, her voice sharp.

Saitama punched each projectile with little effort, sending debris flying harmlessly away. He grinned, ready with his own comeback.

“So what? At least people can see me! I bet they’d need a microscope to find you! In fact, I can barely see you now!” His smirk widened at his own insult.

“Shiny Noggin!” she yelled, flinging another boulder.

“Green Bean!” he replied, smashing it to pieces.

“Lightbulb!” she yelled, launching yet another projectile.

“Sassy Sprout!” he replied, deflecting it effortlessly.

“Hard-Boiled Hero!”

“Angry Elf!”

Even though, Tatsumaki was angry with the whole situation that Saitama stole her kill and making fun of her height she couldn’t deny that she liked getting to use her psychic powers more, even if it wasn’t her strongest attack. To be honest, she felt carefree, even though it was against Saitama. She knew he could take it, she’d done this before.

The fact that he seemed pleased she could handle his punches made Tatsumaki’s cheeks tingle slightly, and the way he responded to every name she threw at him, always managing to come back with a clever retort, only proved he was headstrong and not overly sensitive. She smile smugly, caught up in the fight, momentarily forgetting about the marriage arrangement and the nightmares that had plagued her.

‘It’s nice to let loose after two years controlling my anger and powers.’ Tatsumaki thought.

Clenching her fists, she hurled the floating debris at him even faster this time, each chunk of concrete streaking toward him like a missile.

Saitama hopped back, effortlessly dodging the first wave, then the second. As a particularly large piece of rubble hurtled toward him, he raised a single hand and swatted it aside like a fly. It smashed into a nearby building, sending a plume of dust into the air.

"All right, I get it," he said, his tone still annoyingly calm. "You’re mad. But……"

Before he could finish, Tatsumaki zipped forward, faster than he expected, and thrust her hand toward his chest. A crushing force slammed into him, sending him skidding back several meters. His boots gouged deep lines into the ground as he came to a stop, unharmed.

“Cool,” he admitted, brushing some dust off his cape.

Tatsumaki’s eyes narrowed. “I’m just getting started!”

With a flick of her wrist, she created a spiraling vortex of energy around him, the air growing heavy and oppressive. Saitama felt the pull as the vortex compressed inward, its psychic pressure threatening to crush him.

Saitama raised his hands. “Okay, now you’re just showing off.” He clenched his fist and threw a punch straight into the vortex. The shockwave from his strike tore through the swirling energy, vanish in an instant.

Tatsumaki smiled as he stopped her attack again. She was having fun. She wondered what else she could do with her powers against him.

Not far away, a little girl and her mother watched the two hero couple fighting, throwing insults, and destroying small parts of the city. The little girl was on the verge of tears, hearing her two favorite heroes fighting so viciously. She closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying to block out the bickering. Her mother, noticing her distress, pulled her into a hug, trying to comfort her.

Finally, after their last exchange, Saitama heard the small sound of sobbing and a woman’s voice soothing a child. He turned toward the direction of the sound.

He saw the little girl and her mother embracing tightly. Saitama suddenly realized what they had done. This was getting out of hand.

Saitama took a moment to assess the aftermath. The cityscape around them was in worse shape than before. While the pig-like monster had done substantial damage, their fight hadn’t exactly helped. He sighed inwardly. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go.

More than anything, Saitama wanted Tatsumaki to go home with him. He needed to talk to her about what had happened last week, the night she lock herself in the bathroom. Seeing her here today was a coincidence, but he’d felt relieved knowing she was okay. He’d been waiting for her to come back ever since even if she was still angry.

“Look, I don’t want to fight you,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “I just want to talk about what happened that night. Let’s go home.”

He leaped from one building to another, closing the gap between them until he stood on a rooftop near her level.

Tatsumaki’s breath hitched at his words. Dammit, ‘I was supposed to run when I saw him,’ she thought, frustration building as her emotions wrestled for control. ‘But no, I let my emotion get the best of me.’

She needed to escape. But before she could act, she noticed Saitama standing on a rooftop close to her.

He paused, his posture relaxed but his gaze serious. “Hey, short-stack, let’s just forget about this and go home.”

Tatsumaki froze, her ears burning. She didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, only the “short-stack” part stuck. Her anger reignited. If she was going down, she’d make it creative.

“Yeah? Well, so what if I’m short? At least I don’t have small nipples!” she shouted, crossing her arms smugly.

Saitama blinked, clearly caught off guard. “First you insult my head, now my nipples? What did my nipples ever do to you?

“Nothing,” Tatsumaki replied with mock indifference. “But seeing you in a towel last time was enough. They just look… bizarre.”

Saitama stood there for a moment, visibly processing her words. Then he reply. “Well at least I’m not flat-chested.”

Tatsumaki froze for a split second after Saitama’s offhand remark. Then her face turned crimson, her aura erupting with an intensity that caused the ground beneath them to crack.

“FLAT-CHESTED?!” she screeched, her voice echoing through the city like a thunderclap. “You absolute, brainless, shiny-headed, walking cue ball! Who do you think you are saying that to me?!”

Tatsumaki’s psychic energy flared again, causing windows to shatter in the nearby buildings. “At least I don’t look like someone buffed a bowling ball and called it a day!”

As she ranted, a faint buzzing noise interrupted her fuming. Both of them turned toward the sound to see a small drone hovering nearby, its camera lens glowing as it zoomed in on them.

“What the… Oh no.” Tatsumaki’s gaze locked onto the drone. She just realized she was being recorded.

“Oh,” Saitama said, squinting at it. “Looks like one of those live news drones.”

The realization dawned on Tatsumaki just as the drone adjusted its angle, capturing a perfect view of her glaring at Saitama. Then her voice echoed loudly from nearby speakers.

“FLAT-CHESTED?!”

Tatsumaki whipped her head around to see a massive flat-screen display mounted on a nearby skyscraper, broadcasting the live feed. To her horror, it was showing their argument in perfect 4K HD.

Neither of them had noticed that people all over the city had begun emerging from shelters, drawn by the commotion.

Crowds began gathering in the streets below, pointing and whispering. Some were even pulling out their phones to record.

“Oh, no,” Tatsumaki muttered, her anger quickly being replaced by mortified.

Saitama, meanwhile, stared at the screen with mild interest. “Huh. The camera makes your head look bigger. Guess I was wrong you don’t need a microscope to see you.”

Tatsumaki’s face went beet red, her fists clenching at her sides. “Saitama, I swear…..”

“And look,” he continued, pointing at the screen. “They got the part where you called my nipple small.”

“STOP TALKING!” Tatsumaki yelled, her aura flaring again.

The announcer’s voice came over the speakers.

“Breaking news: Our favorite couple of the year Tornado of Terror and One Punch Man are… arguing in the middle of the city?”

The broadcast switched to a split screen, showing footage of their earlier banter alongside reactions from the crowd. A reporter’s voice chimed in: “It seems the heroes are having a rather… personal disagreement. Citizens are questioning if this is part of some elaborate training exercise or simply a lovers’ quarrel gone public.”

“LOVERS’ QUARREL?!” Tatsumaki screeched, her voice carrying so much force that it knocked the drone off balance.

Meanwhile, the crowd on the ground was fully engrossed in the unfolding drama.

“I didn’t know heroes could argue like that,” one man said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are they really married?” a woman whispered to her friend, pointing at the screen, which was now replaying Saitama’s comment about Tatsumaki’s height.

A group of teenagers watched the broadcast with wide grins, recording the scene on their phones. “This is going viral for sure,” one of them said. “Hashtag ‘Hero Couple Drama’ incoming!”

Saitama still watching the screen. “Well, at least they got my good side.”

The crowd erupted into laughter at his deadpan comment, while Tatsumaki was left vibrating with fury. “This is all your fault!” she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“My fault?” Saitama replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who started yelling first. I just pointed out some facts.”

“Facts?! Y-you’re impossible!”

The crowd seemed to be enjoying the exchange far too much. Tatsumaki clenched her fists, her face burning with humiliation. “That’s it. I’m leaving!”

Before Saitama could respond, she shot into the air, leaving a trail of psychic energy behind her. The drone tried to follow, but a sharp burst of power from her aura sent it spiraling out of control before plummeting to the ground.

Saitama watched her disappear into the sky. “Uh… did I overdo it? She’s definitely not coming home after this.”

As he walked away, the screen replayed Tatsumaki’s earlier shout: “FLAT-CHESTED?!”

The crowd burst into laughter again. Saitama sighed. “Man…..this is gonna be all over the news, isn’t it?”

.

.

.

Landing on the rooftop of her apartment far from the chaos, Tatsumaki tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks still burned from embarrassment, and her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Stupid Saitama! Stupid drone! Stupid… everything!” she fumed, grinding her teeth.

“Ugh, I can’t believe this,” she muttered, pacing back and forth. “Everyone’s probably laughing at me right now. All because of that stupid bald idiot!”

For a brief moment, she wished she could go back and destroy everything: the news media, the audience, anyone who had watched and laughed or at least treated them just like in her early hero days. She look down at her hands, they were trembling. Maybe if she destroyed something, she’d feel better.

She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to push the anger away. Things had changed. For the better. She didn’t want to be consumed by rage anymore. She didn’t want to be feared again. She hadn’t always been a good hero before.

Tatsumaki turned to the horizon, watching the sun begin to set. Running a hand through her hair, she let out a slow sigh. Her whole plan to keep things discreet from the Saitama and Hero Association, waiting for the results of her pregnancy went down to the toilet.

To make things worse, half the city had been wrecked from their fight. There was no way this wouldn’t cause a commotion. And if Blast didn’t already know about it… he would soon.

Her mind wandered back to Saitama’s comment. She replayed the scene over and over, each time getting more annoyed. “Flat-chested? Flat-chested?!” she hissed under her breath. “He just had to say it in front of everyone, didn’t he? The nerve of that guy!”

Despite her anger, there was a tiny part of her that felt something else….. Something uncomfortably close to self-consciousness. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to push the thought away. “It doesn’t matter,” she told herself. “He’s an idiot. His opinion means nothing.”

But the memory of the crowd laughing kept creeping back, making her stomach twist.

She dug her nails into her palms, her psychic aura sparking faintly around her. It wasn’t like she cared what people thought. She was the Tornado of Terror, a former S-Class hero who didn’t need anyone’s approval.

“I’ve always been small, It’s just how I am”, she have accepted that fact a long time ago, She was an adult. She didn’t need validation. “I know I am awesome and I look freakin amazing!!”

Her gaze dropped to her reflection in a nearby window panel, and she frowned. With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of the rooftop, hugging her knees to her chest.

Too much were happening this week. She was stressed. She wished she could just sleep it all away—but that wasn’t an option. Not when the nightmares kept coming back to haunt her.

She stayed there, waiting until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The sky turned dark, and soon, tiny specks of light scattered across it. The stars had joined her tonight. A small comfort.

Tatsumaki sighed.

Suddenly, Tatsumaki’s communicator buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She hesitated before answering, already dreading what was coming.

“Miss Tatsumaki,” a voice from the Hero Association said, “we’ve been receiving numerous reports about your… public altercation with One Punch Man. The footage has gone viral, and the department is a little concerned about how it might reflect on the organization and the marriage plan.”

She clenched her jaw, her grip tightening on the device. “Are you seriously calling to lecture me right now?”

“N-not at all, ma’am! Just… perhaps consider issuing a statement to clarify the situation?”

Tatsumaki ended the call with a flick of her finger. She was too tired to explain herself to Hero Association, “A statement? What am I supposed to say? That he’s an idiot and I was right to yell at him?”

She sighed, letting her frustration simmer down. “Maybe I’ll just stay here for a while,” she muttered. “Let him deal with the fallout.”

Glancing at her reflection in the building’s window, Tatsumaki exhaled slowly.

This situation was turning into a mess.

.

.

.

“Execute the plan….. So much for escaping from married life."

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

The projector switch various montage of clips:

Tatsumaki yelled Saitama’s nipple being small to Saitama deadpan called Tatsumaki Flat-Chested. The screen zoom in Tatsumaki’s furious expression as she yelled “FLAT-CHESTED?!” followed by the crowd burst into laughter again as the scene replayed in slow motion.

The reporter’s voice returned over the footage. “And there you have it folks, an unexpected glimpse into the lives of two lover of our most powerful former heroes. Are they really our favorite lovey-dovey couple, or is this all just one big act for publicity? While their banter may seem personal, it’s clear that the world is thoroughly entertained.”

The projector was switched off by Sitch, who rubbed his temples at the situation unfolding before him. Tatsumaki and Saitama sat silently across from him at his fancy office table. Tatsumaki was visibly uncomfortable, especially with HIM sitting right next to her.

Saitama, on the other hand, maintained his usual neutral expression but he was sweating slightly.

Both had been summoned by Sitch to discuss the incident that had taken place the day before.

Sitch’s serious gaze lingered on them before he finally spoke, exhaling deeply. “Well? Neither of you is going to explain what the hell happened yesterday?”

Tatsumaki looked down at her nails, pretending not to hear him. Saitama, meanwhile, casually scratched his ear, also ignoring the question.

Sitch sighed. “Since neither of you is going to say anything, I’ll start first.” He adjusted his tie and took another deep breath.

“The monster did manage to cause colossal damage throughout City Q, but it was ultimately defeated thanks to One Punch Man.”

Tatsumaki scoffed, but Sitch continued.

“Even though the monster was taken down, our satellite still picked up signs of destruction happening after the battle. When we zoomed in on the footage, what did we see? A green-haired esper and a bald….” Sitch cleared his throat, correcting himself. “I mean, a man in a yellow jumpsuit, fighting each other in the city, causing even more damage, as if the city was their personal training ground.”

He fixed them both with a sharp stare before continuing. “Worst of all, the media recorded everything, and the citizens saw you two bickering and fighting each other, escalating the destruction.”

The old man took another deep breath, his eyes dark with frustration. He needed to be firm with them now. He couldn’t allow these two heroes to undo all the hard work that had gone into this arrangement, especially with how much money had been invested in their wedding. If things spiraled any further, sponsors would start pulling out. Not to mention, Blast himself was expecting an update on their progress.

Sitch’s expression hardened.

“The media is already speculating that you two are pretending to be married for a publicity stunt, assuming the Hero Association is behind this to sell merchandise and profit off the attention.”

Tatsumaki scoffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. Stitch shifted his gaze to her.

“Finally, Tatsumaki-san, do you have something to say?”

“Pssh, of course I do! Don’t pretend the Hero Association isn’t benefiting from this whole marriage façade. The media is right!” Tatsumaki didn’t even bother looking at Stitch, instead glaring at the left wall she refuse to look at him.

 “You’re right, Tatsumaki-san,” Sitch admitted. “But you have to remember, you signed a contract agreeing to this and so did you, Saitama.”

He glanced at Saitama, whose expression remained neutral.

“You both agreed to our terms and conditions. And let’s not forget you’ve benefited from this arrangement too. The money, the apartment, the ceremony… not to mention all the expensive dresses and wardrobe that you and Fubuki bought.”

Tatsumaki’s eyes twitch.

“We all know about you and Fubuki little shopping spree during the wedding preparation which I will let this slide.”

Tatsumaki finally turned her gaze to Sitch, glaring at him. Her patience was running low, and she was about to give him a piece of her mind.

“Don’t used my sister’s name in this argument. Take my money, cut my retirement money all I care. I’ll pay everything back. You think I give a shit about the money, the fame, the apartment and all that fancy shit. I only agreed to this because of Blas….”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, her eyes briefly darting toward Saitama before quickly averting them back to Sitch.

“Look, I didn’t cause the drama, he did!” She pointing a finger in Saitama’s direction. “He started calling me names and steeling my kill!”

Tatsumaki shot a sharp glare at Saitama, shifting in her seat as she crossed her legs and folded her arms again.

“First of all, I was the one who defeated the monster! I was about to finish it off, but then he stole my kill and then he had the nerve to start making fun of my size….” She trailed off, quickly faking a cough to cover up her last word.

Finally, Saitama broke his silence. “Woah, what’s the matter, Tats? Did you swallow a fly or something?” he asked, his tone slightly sarcastic. He then turned to Sitch.

“Technically, I didn’t start anything. She started screaming and throwing boulders at me,” he said with a shrug.

“EXCUSE ME? YOU STARTED THIS FIGHT!” Tatsumaki shot up from her seat, floating slightly above the ground in an attempt to assert dominance, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“YOU CALLED ME SMALL AND FLA-T… HUMILIATED ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?! YOU STUPID, DENSE, BALDY, AVOCADO, EGGHEAD ASSHOLE!!”

Saitama was already not in the mood this morning. He had to miss out on a 70% discount at the farmer’s market just to attend this stupid meeting, and now he had to listen to this small, annoying gremlin insult his head.

“Hey, don’t make fun of my head, you shishitou! (green chili!)” Saitama snapped back, still sitting in his chair, gripping the armrests for support. This time, he was glaring at Tatsumaki, ready to counter her verbal attacks.

Now, Tatsumaki was glowing even brighter, and the furniture, office equipment, and even Sitch’s coffee mug were floating off his desk.

“Baldy, Baldy, Baldy!”

“Wow so creative calling me bald again. Short-stack, Green Elf, Midget!”

Tatsumaki’s eye twitched. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “The fuck did you just call me?”

The entire building started to shake. Saitama stood up, ready to take this fight outside.

“You want creative. How about chrome melon?” Tatsumaki shot death glare at him.

“Alright, pixie-sized tantrum machine …” Saitama said with indifference toned.

Sitch stood up and slams his palm at the desk with a force that echoed through the office. Finally voicing out. “Enough! Both of you need to shut it!”

The entire room fell silent.

For the first time, Tatsumaki and Saitama were caught off guard. Their eyes widened as they stared at Sitch. They weren’t afraid of him, of course, but seeing him lose his composure like this was unexpected.

Tatsumaki let out a breath and powered down, her glow fading. Everything in the room slowly settled back into place. The building stopped shaking. She remained floating in midair, but Saitama exhaled and sat back down, looking mildly annoyed.

Sitch took a deep breath, loosening his tie. His tone was sharp and scolding.

“This is not how married couple should be behaving.” He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple before leveling them with a serious stare.

“Listen. Too much is at stake right now. We’ve invested a lot of money into making this marriage work. And, as much as I hate to admit it, the Hero Association is losing funding. With no major monster threats lately, donations and sponsorships have dropped but now that monsters are starting to resurface, we need all the financial backing we can get.”

His gaze drifted to his coffee mug. The dark brown liquid inside had gone completely cold.

“A lot of people are involved in making this façade work, and I know this is stressful for both of you.” He finally looked up again, his expression both firm and pleading.

“I need you to fake this relationship until the entire world believes it. I don’t care if you have to hold hands, hug, or kiss in public as long as it looks believable, that’s all that matters. There’s too much money involved, which means too many lives are involved as well.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders, finally letting go of the tension. “You heroes might not understand what it’s like to live a normal life, to work a standard job. But this Association is built on funding. Without it, we all fall.”

Speaking his mind had relieved some of his frustration, but he could only hope these two would finally take him seriously.

Tatsumaki sat back down immediately, too shocked to respond.

Her mind was racing. She didn’t care for about the other explanation just hearing about the fake relationship caught her at edge. She had barely escaped having to deal with intimacy before, and now she was being told she had to go along with all the lovey-dovey crap in public too?!

‘How the hell am I supposed to do this? There has to be a way out. Blast, I don’t want to do this anymore…’

She clenched her fists under the table. ‘I don’t want to be touched anymore.’

Sitch looked at Saitama, who was actually listening or at least seemed to be. Meanwhile, Tatsumaki was quiet for once. He needed to continue before they started fighting again.

“After further discussions with the PR team, the suggestion is that you both appear on Late Night Fire Fire Boom’s Show. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it, it’s a popular talk show hosted by two well-known celebrities. From there, you’ll have the chance to clear up the mess you caused.”

Sitch reached into his drawer, pulling out two stacks of documents. He placed them gently on the table and slid them towards to the two former heroes.

“These are scripts with possible questions that might come up during the interview. We’re certain they’ll ask about the fight, but you can try to spin it into something else….. maybe say Tatsumaki was trying to hit something small near Saitama or that one of you was mind-controlled… something along those lines.”

Tatsumaki was about to voice out just how stupid that idea was…..

“Yeah, no. That’s stupid,” Saitama said first.

Tatsumaki blinked.

“I’m not doing some interviews. Faking a relationship sounds annoying. Plus, the world doesn’t need to know about our marriage, anyway? It should be private.”

Saitama was direct, speaking with his usual plain tone but there was a seriousness in his tone that caught Tatsumaki’s attention.

“It’s impossible to fake feelings when we’re always fighting. People aren’t dumb, they can tell we don’t like each other. Hell, we weren’t even friends to begin with.”

He turned to Tatsumaki, who was now making a disgusted face. Saitama raised an eyebrow at her.

“Wow, didn’t realize you could talk like that, baldy,” she smirked.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” A vein bulged on Saitama’s temple.

Sitch rubbed his chin, considering Saitama’s words. Then, with a gleeful smile, he said, “Okay, then. I’ll personally fund your honeymoon. Take it as a wedding gift from me.”

“What the hell?!” Both Saitama and Tatsumaki yelled in unison, their eyes practically bulging out of his heads.

“Look, it’s a great idea,” Stitch continued, undeterred. “Saitama made a valid point. You two basically jumped into this marriage wagon without even knowing each other. And while I appreciate your sacrifice, let’s make this marriage work for real. Not just for the ‘baby savior’ project, but for the Hero Association, the harmony of your relationship and of course, the publicity.”

Tatsumaki shot up from her chair. “What? NO!”

Sitch turned his gaze toward her. “This is a perfect opportunity. A honeymoon will give you time to bond, develop some chemistry, and from there… maybe continue the baby project.” The last part came out quickly and almost under his breath.

‘The nerve of this old man, suggesting something like that…. especially that last part! Did he really think I wouldn’t hear him?!’ Tatsumaki fumed internally.

Meanwhile, Saitama discreetly observed Tatsumaki. She might have been putting on a tough act, but he could tell she was uncomfortable. Was it because of him?

There was something he wanted to talk to her about “that night” but not in front of Sitch. Maybe this was an opportunity…

“Alright, let’s do it.” Saitama stood up, meeting Tatsumaki’s wide-eyed gaze. “Let’s go on a honeymoon, Tatsumaki-chan.”

Her breath hitched hearing Saitama was agreeing to do this! And did he just…? Did he just call add her name -chan?!

“Aww, he called you Tatsumaki-chan! Isn’t that cute?” Sitch beamed. “This is a great start! Good job, Saitama. I’ll report this progress to Blast immediately.”

Tatsumaki stiffened. Wait….

“W-wait a second, are you actually reporting this to Blast?!” she exclaimed, her shock growing by the second. Was this really happening?! She couldn’t back out now!

“Of course,” Sitch replied, already typing away at his laptop. “In fact, I’m reporting everything live to him right now.” A new message popped up on his screen, and his grin widened. “Ah, Blast responded. ‘Hope to hear good news next month. Please don’t hesitate to update me sooner if the good news come early, Twisty.’”

Tatsumaki’s entire face turned red.

Sitch just read out loud what Blast called her by his nick name for her.

“Err… I…” Tatsumaki was speechless. She couldn’t argue now. Not when Blast was expecting her to go through with this nonsense. She’d rather be buried underground than deal with this crap.

She sat in complete silence, her gaze fixed on the floor. Her fingers tightened around the chair’s arms like a vice, gripping them as if her life depended on it. She was furious, but she needed to keep herself in check.

‘Don’t cause a scene. Don’t destroy anything. Just breathe’. She repeated the mantra in her head over and over.

Her sudden shift in demeanor caught Saitama’s attention. He watched her carefully, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

.

.

.

Sitch finished typing up the report for Blast. “Okay then, since the first issue is finally settled…” He pushed his laptop aside. “Let’s discuss the Disaster Dragon-Level Monster Pig issue.”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. “Hmph, now you finally want to talk about the bacon monster? Geez, didn’t realize I was the main problem while the monster was just a minor issue.”

Sitch ignored Tatsumaki’s sly remark and continued his briefing. He turned the projector back on, and everyone shifted their attention to the holographic display.

The screen showed footage from a CCTV street camera. The streets were filled with busy citizens going about their daily lives when, suddenly, a massive yellow lightning bolt struck the road. Moments later, a gigantic six-limbed pig monster appeared.

The footage switched to a drone’s point of view, capturing the grotesque creature rampaging through the streets, wreaking havoc as people scattered in panic. Then, the screen changed again, this time showing satellite footage of the moon. A small crack had formed in its center, and from it, a yellow bolt of lightning shot straight down to Earth.

Saitama and Tatsumaki’s expressions shifted, their full attention now on the screen….. Especially Saitama.

The camera switched back to the busy street, rewinding to just before the monster’s appearance. The lightning had actually struck a dark alley.

Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow. “I recognize that alley. That’s where I killed a small piggy bank monster. It went splat in seconds… and that was like a week ago.”

The footage continued suddenly, the entire area exploded, and the massive Dragon-level Pig Monster emerged. Sitch paused the scene and turned to Tatsumaki.

“So, when you killed this monster before, why didn’t you file a report with the Hero Association? You should know that’s was standard procedure.”

Tatsumaki raised her eyebrows. “Huh? Why should I. Anyway, it wasn’t a big threat. At the time, it was just a small fry, a Wolf-level at best. Besides, I’m retired, remember? I don’t need to report it. I did it for stress relief. You should be thanking me for the small favor.” She crossed her arms.

Sitch was shocked by the revelation. “Are you saying that the monster was just a Wolf-level threat before and somehow came back to life as a Dragon-level threat?”

He continued playing the footage, switching to a different scene. This time, the video showed Tatsumaki rescuing two civilians, a mother and her daughter while battling the Dragon-level Pig Monster. The recording included a full dialogue explaining why the creature had appeared.

.

.

“How dare you not recognize me? You killed me a week ago! I was the piggy bank monster that you killed without mercy! But now I reborn as The Deity gave me a chance to take revenge on you.

I am its herald, its warning to this cursed world and HE will be the first to understand the horror that awaits. The monsters will return twisted, unrecognizable, and reborn in agony and thirsting for carnage. There will be no mercy, no escape.

The Deity is coming.”

The clouds seems darken and the atmosphere drops cold…..

Tatsumaki yawns covering her mouth with her hand ignoring the monster’s message unware what was happening around her surroundings.

.

.

Then, the footage end.

Sitch had stopped it. He glanced at Tatsumaki, who looked surprised. How had she managed to completely tune out that entire monologue before?

Tatsumaki unthinking twirled a strand of her hair, realizing she had missed a lot of what the bacon monster had said. She shrugged “Guess I must’ve missed that whole monologue, heh.”

She averted her gaze toward Sitch, who looked disappointed, shaking his head with a hand over his face. Slowly, she turned to Saitama and to her surprise, she caught the faintest hint of a blush creeping onto his face. A small curve formed at the corner of his lips.

Was he actually blushing? Smiling? No, that couldn’t be it. Maybe he was irritated? But that was such a strange reaction, especially coming from someone who barely showed emotions.

Sitch let out a long breath. “This message was obviously meant for Sai….”

“It was for Saitama,” Tatsumaki finishing the sentence, shifting her gaze toward him.

Saitama rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small chuckle.

The room fell into silence.

After nearly a minute, Sitch was the first to break it. “I guess what Blast predicted is coming true. I hope this makes it clear how serious things are getting. The two of you need to faster take action on this out as soon as possible.”

Saitama leaned back in his chair, offering no response. He had no interested on what Sitch asking what to do. His mind was wondered elsewhere what did the Deity said. Did he said anything about him? Did he asked about his where about?

He was definitely excited about The Monster Deity but the fight with the Pig Monster had ended in just one punch… such disappointment.

Sitch continue switching different battles happening around the world on the holographic projector. In The screen splits into four different places around the world. From City C, City W, City H and City Z There were another 4 types of an attack by different huge monster but ultimately defeated by different heroes who was in that area. There were all former Class S heroes.

City C was handle by Zombieman and Superalloy Darkshine. City W was handle by Sweet Mask. City H handle by Puri Puri Prisoner and Atomic Samurai. City Z was handle by Bang.

Tatsumaki perks up seeing the site of this. There was more dragon-level monster around. She tried to control herself smiling.

As the screen continue, all monster was defeated by the former S class heroes. Obviously some who was lower raking S class took some time to defeat the monster but like Bang and Sweet Mask was easy game just like her.

Saitama was curious if all the dragon monster reappearing supposed to be stronger than before why are they still weak…..

Tatsumaki cut his thoughts short, “So if The Monster Deity is coming back and sending stronger monsters, why wasn’t the monster strong? All I saw was it getting uglier and dumber.”

Sitch looked at her curiously. “It wasn’t strong? But it took you a while to kill it, didn’t it? We all saw the footage. Back in the day, I remember you could take down any creature in an instant. Not to mention, you’re even stronger now especially after The Great Battle.”

Tatsumaki looked mildly annoyed by Sitch’s comment.

‘Is Sitch trying to say I’m weaker now? Hmph, as if.’

She was about to give him a piece of her mind but decided to stay quiet instead. Tatsumaki knew she could beat the monster easily, but instead, she played around with her psychic powers. Even if she explained why, they wouldn’t understand anyway. They would probably think she was careless or insane.

Her gaze lingered on the projector, watching the monster footage, and an idea formed in her mind. If she played her cards right, she might get the chance to keep fighting Dragon-level threats.

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Sitch. Took me a while because I haven’t had practice fighting monsters that big.” She forced herself to sound begrudging, almost disappointed.

She bit her tongue.

“I guess I have been slacking. Haven’t really pushed my powers in over two years.”

Tatsumaki look down at the floor, subconsciously playing with her wedding ring.

She could feel Saitama’s intense stare on her. She didn’t dare look back at him. ‘Can he tell I’m lying?’

Sitch, meanwhile, looked stunned. Sitch was surprised by her confession. ‘Tatsumaki… not as strong as she used to be? That can’t be right. She’s supposed to be the strongest Esper. And we need a strong couple to have this savior child… just as Blast predicted.’

Sweats formed on his temple.

Tatsumaki noticed and frowned. ‘Why is he sweating? Gross.’

Sitch finally voiced out. “Very well then, I want the two of you to stay out of this hero business and focus on family planning.”

Tatsumaki was shocked. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion!?”

“Look, I need you both to be safe and focus on the bigger task. Let the other heroes handle this monster situation. It’s obvious the Deity is planning something. We need to act fast, and…..”

“No, no, no, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I need to fight these monsters!” Tatsumaki slammed her hands on his office table.

Sitch was startled by the sudden outburst even Saitama looked surprised. Tatsumaki realized what she had done, took a deep breath, and quickly recalculated her approach. She needed to fix this and redirect things back to her original plan.

“Look, you want a strong baby, right?” Sitch was too shocked to respond, he just nodded a few times.

“Strong mother, strong father makes a strong baby, right?” Tatsumaki explained simply, making sure the old man’s pea brain could understand. “That’s how genetic works.”

Sitch nodded again.

“Anyway,” she continued, brushing the papers off his table. She sat on the edge and crossed her legs, flashing a sly smile.

“My request is to let me handle the upcoming monster attacks, especially Dragon-level threats. Espers need to keep training our minds, or we get soft.”

To her surprise, Sitch agreed immediately. “Alright then, request approved. I’ll renew both of your hero licenses.”

“Huh? What??” Tatsumaki shot him a sharp glare, then turned to Saitama, then back again. “No, no, no, I meant my license. Why the hell are you renewing his?”

“Well, he is your husband which make sense you two always together it will make things easier if Saitama was there too. He can backup you.”

Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes. Backup? She was about to protest….

“It’s okay,” Saitama said flatly. “I don’t want to renew my hero license. I’ll let Tatsumaki handle it.”

Tatsumaki’s eyes widened.

Sitch also looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure, Saitama? You like being a hero and this a perfect opportunity for both of you to…...”

“I do,” Saitama replied in the same monotone voice. “But she wants this more. No point in getting in her way. If things get out of hand, I’ll step in and throw a punch or something.”

Tatsumaki stared at him, trying to read his expression, his body language, anything. ‘What’s with him? Does he think I’m weak?’

‘I said I wanted to fight monsters, but… this feels insulting. But then again… I did lie about needing practice. Is that why he’s stepping aside?’

Her mind was racing, frustration and insecurity bubbling up inside her.

Ugh. Too much thinking…

.

.

.

As soon as they left Sitch’s office, Tatsumaki floated ahead, putting distance between them without looking back.

Saitama sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hey Tats? Tats?”

She ignored him, striding into the elevator and pressing the button rapidly. ‘Come on, close already.’ But before the doors could shut, his hand wedged into the gap, forcing them open.

She exhaled sharply, annoyed at the elevator’s sluggishness. He stepped in casually, standing beside her with his hands in his pockets, like nothing had happened.

Arms crossed, she kept her gaze forward.

“Hey, Tats I got a question?”

“Don’t call me that. I told you a hundred times, baldy.”

“Twisty?”

Tatsumaki glare deadly at Saitama.

“Don’t ever call me that ever! Only Blast allowed to call me by that nick name.”

“Okay, Tatsumaki-chan, I got a few questions.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that either. Let’s not pretend we’re suddenly close.”

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint ding of the elevator stopping at each floor.

“What was that back there?” He ruined the quite moment.

Tatsumaki didn’t flinch “What was what?”

Saitama narrowed his eyes. “You lied about struggling against that pig monster.”

Tatsumaki scoffed, keeping her eyes forward. “Oh? And you’re suddenly the expert on my powers now?”

“You’re not weak, Tatsumaki.” His voice was calm, but there was a weight behind it. “We both know that. You stopped my normal punch. That means that thing was nothing to you. So why’d you say that crap?”

Tatsumaki’s lips twitched. She was a bit proud that he noticed she was strong enough to take his normal punch. But still, he should just mind his own damn business. Why does he care so much?

The elevator dinged, arriving at their floor. As the doors slid open, she turned, hovering just enough to meet his collar bone avoiding his eyes. Arms still crossed, expression unreadable.

“What’s it to you?”

Saitama blinked. “Huh?”

“You heard me.” Her green eyes sharped. “Why do you care? It’s my business how I handle things.”

Saitama exhaled through his nose. “Because it’s not like you. You don’t hold back. You don’t make excuses. If you wanted to fight monsters, you’d just do it.” He tilted his head slightly. “So what’s really going on?”

Before she could step out, the elevator doors began to close. Saitama caught them again, holding them open, his gaze steady on her. She tried to avoid direct eye contact again.

For a second, they were alone in the quiet hum of the elevator, standing face to face. It had been a long time since they faced each other like this.

“Hmph.” Tatsumaki turned away. Her fists clenched at her sides. She had a dozen responses lined up :

‘None of your business. You wouldn’t get it. Drop it’.

But the way he was looking at her made her hesitate. He wasn’t treating her like she was fragile, but he knew she wasn’t telling the truth.

“I’m not that angry, hot-headed person anymore,” she muttered. “Just because we fought once doesn’t mean you know me. I’m different now. I don’t go around freaking out or breaking people’s stuff anymore. There are rules I have to follow, we all have to follow.”

Saitama was quiet for a beat, then raised a brow. “How about yesterday you fought me because I stole you’re killed? Or that morning you suddenly burst and destroyed our apartment or that night when we’re together…..”

Her expression darkened instantly. Saitama frowned slightly. ‘Yeah… something’s definitely up’.

“I want to know what’s going on,” he said, voice more serious now. “Talk to me.”

Tatsumaki grit her teeth. ‘Damn it, why is he so persistent today?’

“Hmph. Idiot.” She turned sharply, floating toward the exit. “I don’t need to ‘explain’ anything to you.”

Saitama didn’t stop her. He just let out a sigh, watching her leave.

“Look, Tatsumaki.” His voice was quieter now. “I’m serious. Let’s go home. Whatever’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

She hesitated mid-air, her back still turned to him.

Saitama debated whether to push further. But something told him it wouldn’t work. Not now, anyway.  

So instead, he simply said, “I’m happy that we’re talking again even you’re still mad at me or whatever.”

Tatsumaki paused for a moment and then she shot up into the sky, leaving him behind.

Saitama watched her go. Tatsumaki didn’t look back…… at least, not until she was far enough away. Then, absentmindedly, she touched her wedding ring.

Why does he have to be so damn annoying?

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.

.

Tatsumaki sat stiffly in the helicopter seat, arms crossed, glaring at the ocean below. The sparkling turquoise waves stretched endlessly, wrapping around an island that looked straight out of a luxury travel magazine. White sand beaches, lush greenery, and extravagant resorts dotted the coastline, promising all the peace and relaxation she didn’t ask for.

The helicopter landed at a private dock leading to their resort “Elysian Isle Retreat”. The towering structure blended seamlessly into the tropical surroundings with its sleek design. Glass balconies, infinity pools, and overwater bungalows stretched into the sea. Palm trees swayed under the golden sun, and a soft breeze carried the scent of salt and fresh hibiscus.

A cheerful resort attendant greeted them. "Welcome! We’ve prepared your honeymoon suite, the finest on the island!"

The hotel lobby was extravagant, the kind of place that screamed luxury and exclusivity. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, reflecting golden light onto the marble floors. Staff members in crisp uniforms bowed politely as they passed.

Tatsumaki scoffed. "Oh, look. A forced vacation in a stupidly expensive cage."

"It could be worse," Saitama muttered.

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. She had hoped arriving early would let her book a separate room before the egghead got here, but of course, for the first time in his life, he was actually on time. She will have think some other way later.

A line of resort staff greeted them with polite bows. One woman, clearly the head concierge, stepped forward with a bright, rehearsed smile.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Saitama,” she said, as if testing how it sounded.

Saitama blinked at the name, while Tatsumaki scowled.

She turned her glare to him.

"Guess they don’t know my last name," Saitama yawned. "Oh well."

The concierge continued. “We have prepared a special itinerary for your stay, designed to bring you both closer together and create unforgettable memories.”

She stepped forward and handed them a brochure for the couple’s retreat.

The front cover alone made Tatsumaki grimace. It was full of cringe worthy stock images: couples hugging, holding hands at sunset, laughing over candlelit dinners, and walking along the beach while forming heart shapes with their hands.

Do people actually fall for this nonsense? It looked like the cover of a cheap romance novel.

Meanwhile, Saitama casually flipped through the pages, seemingly unbothered, well at least that’s Tatsumaki observe.

“Our itinerary includes activities designed to enhance chemistry, build attraction, and create new sweet loving memories,” the concierge continued. “Many couples even leave with good news regarding their fertility after their stay!”

Tatsumaki nearly choked. “And I’m leaving.”

“But Mrs. Saitama…..”

“The hell, don’t call me that!” Tatsumaki was already levitating, prepared to fly straight off the island.

“Mrs… err…”

“Just call her Tatsumaki,” Saitama corrected.

“Tatsumaki-san, please, you cannot leave yet,” the concierge pleaded. “The Hero Association is covering the costs, and they’ve invited the media to document your experience together.”

Tatsumaki froze midair.

“…The media?”

“Correct.”

Tatsumaki twitched. Those damn old men at the Association knew she couldn’t just fly off now. If she did, the media would spin it into some huge scandal. “Tornado of Terror abandons new husband! Trouble in paradise?!”

‘Those bastards.’

Saitama, meanwhile, was still reading. “Hey, it’s not so bad. We don’t have to do everything. We can just pick the stuff we don’t hate.”

Tatsumaki unwillingly glanced at the itinerary.

• Sunset cruises (Disgustingly romantic, no thanks.)
• Couples massages (Touch me and die.)
• Snorkeling & scuba diving (Might be fun to mess with sea creatures.)
• Hiking the island’s volcano trails (Something remotely interesting.)
• Private garden dinners (As if she’d sit through a candlelit meal with that idiot.)
• The Lover’s Obstacle Course (wtf is that)

Saitama pointed at the last activity. “Hey, what’s The Lover’s Obstacle Course?”

The concierge perked up, eager to explain. “Ah! The Lover’s Obstacle Course is our most famous attraction! A thrilling test of trust, teamwork, and romantic synergy.”

Saitama’s brow lifted slightly. “Huh. Sounds kinda fun.”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. “You are the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

The concierge’s smile stiffened as beads of sweat formed on her forehead. “Ahaha… Please, follow us! We’ll bring you to change into your bathing suits, and then you can experience The Lover’s Obstacle Course firsthand.”

Tatsumaki and Saitama both snapped to attention.

“The hell, NOW?!”

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.

.

Two men crouched behind a thick tropical bush, adjusting their camera lenses. The warm island breeze rustled the leaves around them as they focused on their target a lone figure standing on a cliff’s edge, framed perfectly by the golden sunset.

Tatsumaki.

She wore a stylish black crop top with ruffled patterns, her toned stomach visible. A flowy blue Hawaiian skirt was tied at her hip, fluttering lightly in the wind. Her emerald-green hair, tousled by the breeze, shimmered under the afternoon sun.

“Damn, this is gold,” one of the photographers muttered, zooming in further. “We could sell these shots for a fortune.”

“Yeah, but shut up. If she hears us, we’re dead.”

The second man adjusted his lens, grinning. “Relax. She hasn’t noticed a thing.”

Up on the cliff, Tatsumaki tapped her foot impatiently. “Finally,” she huffed as Saitama approached, climbing up the slope with his usual lazy stroll.

“Took you long enough for just changing your swimming trunks.”

“What’s the big deal? None of the staff are here anyway.”

“Argh I’m dealing with bunch of incompetence slowpoke.”

She slowly gaze at him up and down, her expression turning sour.

“You’re wearing that?”

Saitama, now standing beside her, looked down at his swimming trunks. They were blue, covered in a repeating pattern of egg-shaped smiley faces.

“What? What’s wrong with it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

Tatsumaki gave him a disgusted look. “Really? You look like a ten-year-old whose mom still buys his underwear and she pickup up from the streets.

“Hey! It was cheap at the reject shop.”

“God you have no standard.” Tatsumaki shaking her head and smirked.

“Why you little!”

A group of people came sprinting up the hill. A woman in a resort uniform led the way, her straight brown hair bouncing with every hurried step. Behind her, a team of cameramen lugged their equipment, all of them out of breath.

“Sorry! Sorry for the delay!” the woman gasped. “We, uh… got a little lost finding this place.”

Tatsumaki crossed her arms. “Hmph. And we had to wait because of your incompetence?”

Jasmine, the host, wiped her forehead nervously. “Please forgive us! It won’t happen again!” She bowed, and the rest of the crew quickly followed suit.

Tatsumaki scoffed but turned away. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Jasmine perked up. “Right! First, we have a special gift for our lovely couple!”

She handed them oversized white T-shirts. Across the chest, in bold black letters, was the word “Saitatsu” surrounded by a giant heart.

Saitama smile. “Cool. Free shirt.” He slipped it on without hesitation.

 “You’re seriously stupid. “Do you even know what that says?”

“Don’t care. Anything free is a good deal.”

“Idiot.”

Tatsumaki didn’t hesitate. She held up the shirt and, with a flick of her fingers, set it ablaze. The crew gasped as the fabric disintegrated into ashes before floating away with the wind.

Jasmine laughed nervously. “U-Uh, moving on! Welcome to the Lover’s Obstacle Course!”

Saitama and Tatsumaki turned to face the so-called challenge.

It was a mess of inflatable platforms, floating balloons, swinging ropes, and precarious-looking beams stretching across the water. A narrow wooden bridge wobbled over a shallow section of the ocean, while a ridiculous heart-shaped zipline led to the final checkpoint. A massive floating platform covered in more pink heart balloons.

The whole thing looked hard for normal people.

For them?

A joke.

Tatsumaki sighed. “This is supposed to be a challenge?”

Saitama put his hands in his pockets. “Guess they didn’t plan this with superheroes in mind.”

.

.

.

Tatsumaki sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the ledge, kicking slightly in the air as she waited impatiently for the Hero Association’s camera crew to finish setting up.

Behind her, Saitama shifted uncomfortably, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. The sight of people quietly filming them from behind made his skin crawl.

“I still can’t believe they got us doing this dumb crap,” She muttered. “Creepy camera crew recording our every move…”

Tatsumaki turned to glare at the crew fumbling with their equipment a few feet away, one guy pointing a lens straight at her while muttering tech jargon.

“They better not zoom in on anything weird,” she growled.

Saitama sighed. “Yeah, same. I hate being followed around like this. Kinda defeats the point of living low-key.”

Just then, the bush behind them rustled. No wind. Just movement. Then came a familiar click-click-click of a camera shutter. Saitama’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Yeah…. Be right back. Gotta take a piss.”

“Ugh. Overshare much?” Tatsumaki waved him off. “Just go and make sure it's far away from me.”

Saitama casually strolled toward the bushes.

Meanwhile, hidden behind the foliage, two men in mismatched camo gear were reviewing their latest batch of photos. One of them scrolled through the images, grinning.

“Alright, that’s a wrap,” he said, smirking as he admired the shots of Tatsumaki from behind.

His drooling friend leaned in over his shoulder. “Yo, save me a copy too.”

“Dude, gross,” the first one said, elbowing him. “Don’t be a creep.”

As they scrolled through the next few pictures, their expressions shifted.

“Damn it. Saitama’s big bald head blocked half the shots.”

“Ughhh, that shiny cue ball ruined my perfect waifu butt shot…”

Suddenly, the shadows around them darkened.

A presence loomed.

They froze. Slowly, they turned to see Saitama standing right behind them, arms relaxed, expression unreadable but the air felt heavy.

“Oh shit….”

Saitama stared at them, then down at their clothes. Not the production team’s uniform. Camouflage. Then he looked at their camera screen pausing at a shot that had Tatsumaki in the background and a high-definition close-up of his bald head in the foreground.

“You guys with the film crew?” he asked flatly.

The two men broke into a nervous sweat.

“Y-yeah! Totally! Same crew. Just... uh… different team!”

Saitama leaned in, grabbing the camera. He scrolled through the shots slowly.

“Looks more like you’re trying to take pervy shots and sell them online.”

“What?! N-no! These are just normal, respectful fan photos!”

“Yeah? Then what’s this?” He pointed to the image of his shiny head taking up most of the frame.

The two stared at it, dumbfounded. Their target had been blocked but now it looked like they were obsessed with his scalp.

“We we’re actually fans of you, Mr. Saitama, sir! We just wanted a selfie with you but we were too nervous! Hahaha…”

He nudged his buddy hard. “Say something.”

“Uh, y-yeah! We’re shy! Didn’t wanna disturb your, uh, honeymoon time! Very respectful!”

Saitama scratched his cheek. “Uh-huh. Well, alright, I don’t mind a selfie. Just quit being creeps. Lotta weirdos trying to mess with heroes lately, y’know?”

The two men lit up. Their lie had worked. Not only had they avoided getting caught they were about to get a selfie with One Punch Man. This was gold.

They moved in beside him, slinging their arms over his shoulders. Saitama, still holding the camera, turned it around for the shot.

“Alright, say cheese or whatever.”

He pressed the shutter. Nothing happened.

He tried again. Still no click.

“Huh… maybe the button’s stuck.”

He pressed a little harder….CRACK!

The entire camera snapped into pieces, pieces dangling from both his hands. A lens dropped into the dirt.

All three froze.

Saitama looked down at the broken device, then at the two men.

“…Oops.”

The pervy duo just stared, slack-jawed.

“D-Did he just…”

“My… my camera…”

“Our only camera!”

Saitama gave them a blank look. “Guess it was kinda flimsy.”

Then, without another word, a gust of wind followed as he vanished, heading back toward the cliff like nothing happened.

“Wait!”

The two men stood in silence, surrounded by shattered plastic and broken dreams.

“…No photos…”

“…No waifu butt…”

“…No money…”

Then they both collapsed onto their knees in synchronized agony, screaming to the blue sky.

“WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!”

A seagull on a tree branch above them, cackling.

Even the birds were mocking them now.

.

.

.

“Huh, what was that? Is that a monster?”

Tatsumaki stood up and glancing behind her, eyeing the tropical forest behind her.

“Nah, it’s probably nothing just a random exotic bird probably.” Saitama emerge from the bush behind her strolled casually back toward the cliff, hands in his pockets, as if he had just taken a peaceful walk.

Tatsumaki look at him.

“You were gone forever,” her voice clipped. “What were you doing? Digging a well?”

Saitama shrugged. “Thought I was just takin’ a piss, but it turned into a real big….”

“Ugh, stop!” Tatsumaki winced, waving a hand. “I don’t even want to know.”

“You asked,” he muttered with a smirk. “I was just taking a big, fat….”

“I said stop. Don’t overshare you moron!” she snapped, turning away in disgust.

Saitama started to notice something…

Just then, Jasmine, their cheerful host, appeared, clapping her hands. “Alright! We’re all set, cameras are ready, and we’re rolling!”

“Hmph, it’s about time.”

Jasmine beamed. “Okay! Tatsumaki-san, Saitama-san, the rules for the Lover’s Obstacle Course are simple! You’ll get across the course using communication, teamwork, coordination, and most importantly LOVE!” she said, throwing up a heart with her hands. “After this obstacle we are sure will strengthens your bonds for sure.”

Tatsumaki’s eye twitched, she can’t wait to finish this and went straight to buffet.

“Ready, set, GO!” The whistle blew.

Saitama yawned and strolled forward, but Tatsumaki launched herself ahead, clearing half the course in seconds.

“Tch. Too easy.” She floated lazily through the air, completely ignoring the obstacles.

“Hey we supposed to do this together remember?” Saitama called.

“Hmph, whatever you just gonna slow ….”

Before she could finish, a hidden water cannon fired from below, blasting her with a high-pressure jet. Soaked, her hair drooped comically over her face. She froze mid-air, her curls drooping under the weight of the water.

Saitama stifled a laugh. “Pfft.”

Her head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. “Oh, you think this is funny?!”

Another water jet fired but this time, Tatsumaki raised her hand, redirected it with a flick of her finger, and nailed Saitama square in the face.

Now he was drenched, too.

“HAHAHA! How do you like it now, baldy?!” she laughed loud, floating smugly.

 He blinked, completely unbothered. “That was kinda refreshing, actually.”

Saitama stepped onto one of the floating platforms. It wobbled under him, but he managed to stay balanced. He tested the next one stable. Nodding, understanding what he needed to do. He picked up speed, hopping from one to another until he catch up to Tatsumaki’s spot.

Tatsumaki smirked as she saw him using his own super strength. She raised her hand one of the platforms ahead lit up green and flipped the moment he stepped on it.

SPLOOSH!

Saitama sank, resurfacing with a deadpan expression and… a fish stuck to the top of his head, sucking on his scalp.

“I’m testing your balance.” Tatsumaki smirked. “Don’t fall, baldy.”

Tatsumaki float down to the platform floaty for a better view. Standing mocking down to Saitama. Tatsumaki couldn’t help burst into laughter.

“BAHAHAHA! You look like a goldfish bowl reject!”

Saitama peeled the fish off and tossed it back into the sea. A vein twitched on his forehead as he grinned. “Okay. My turn.”

He pulled on the float, causing the one Tatsumaki stood on to shift suddenly. She lost her balance and tries to float back before hitting the water but Saitama manage to catch her skirt and plunged into the water beside him.

She surfaced seconds later, fuming. “WHAT THE HELL!”

“Hahaha… nice haircut.” He pointed.

Tatsumaki reached up and touched her head an octopus clung to her hair, its tentacles curled into her bangs.

Her eyes widened. “EW GET IT OFF!” She ripped it off and flung it halfway across the ocean with her psychic powers.

Saitama smirked. “What, scared of a little sea creature? It probably thought your head was seaweed.”

Now Tatsumaki was fuming. She was thinking hundred ways she could torture him.

Tatsumaki was distracted in her own thoughts without realizing Saitama casually swam ahead, reaching the next obstacle

The next challenge involved dodging swinging foam hammers. Tatsumaki catch up and found herself first without Saitama in sight. She smug proudly she was faster than him.

Tatsumaki zipped forward, only for a hammer to suddenly swing right in her path. Saitama the one who casually nudge one hammer into her path.

She barely dodged in time. The foam hammer didn’t hurt, it felt like hitting by a teddy bear. But still she was surprise. She found him snickering behind the foamy pillar.

“Did you just?!”

Saitama’s expression was blank, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh no, looks like you’re losin.”

Tatsumaki grit her teeth. “Oh, it’s on.

Instead of properly finishing the course, the next ten minutes devolved into a full-blown honeymoon battle, complete with psychic shockwaves, mid-air wrestling, and a lot of destroyed obstacles.

By the time they reached the zipline, the entire course was in shambles, the staff looked horrified, and the scoreboard was on fire.

Jasmine, still clinging to her script, announced nervously, “A-And now, the final challenge… the couple must hold hands and zipline down together!”

Tatsumaki glace down her hand nervously and quickly crossed her arms.

She scoffed. “Not happening.”

Saitama shrugged. “Okay.”

Then, without warning, he grabbed her hand and jumped.

Tatsumaki let out a rare gasp as they soared through the air, the wind rushing past them.

For a moment, despite her irritation, she felt... weightless.

The ocean sparkled below, the setting sun painting the sky in warm colors. It was almost beautiful.

They crashed into the heart-shaped balloon pool, sending water and balloons splashing everywhere.

Tatsumaki surfaced, soaked and grumpy. “I hate you.”

Saitama floated on his back. “You’re still holding my hand though.”

She instantly let go and turned away. “Don’t ever fucking touch me like that again.”

She huffed, stomping away as best she could in waist-deep water. Saitama blinked, watching her retreat. He admits she was kinda fun when she’s mad.

But Saitama couldn’t help to notice something odd again about her….

Then he paused.

“Wait… were those camera guys hiding in the bushes earlier…?”

.

.

.

Tatsumaki sat at the edge of a nearby cliff, letting the sea breeze wash over her. For once, she wasn’t flying just letting nature do the work. It was oddly refreshing to feel actual wind instead of the currents she created with her powers.

Her eyes drifted down to her hand.

She could still feel the lingering warmth from earlier, when Saitama had grabbed it without warning. That stupid… He didn’t even hesitate. Her lips twitched. She didn’t like it. She wasn’t used to it. She really wasn’t used to it. And worse this wouldn’t be the last time.

‘I’m going to have to deal with this again and again…’

Her train of thought was cut short by a commotion. A group of resort security officers approached, dragging along two beat-up men in camo gear. Both had strange bruises on their foreheads shiny, round-shaped welts as if someone had hit them with… a finger?

“What’s all this?” Tatsumaki asked, raising an eyebrow.

One of the camera crew she vaguely recognized stepped forward, looking a bit flustered. “Your husband found these two sneaking around the cliffs, ma’am. They were trespassing trying to take photos of couples at the resort.”

Before he could continue, one of the men interrupted, panicking. “No, no, no! We weren’t taking photos! We didn’t even have a camera! Please, there’s nothing suspicious! Right, Pete?!”

His buddy nodded rapidly, sweating buckets. “Nothing suspicious! Clean as a whistle!”

They clearly hoped lying would get them a lighter punishment anything but the wrath of her.

Tatsumaki crossed her arms, staring blankly. “And why are you telling me this? Sounds like a YOU problem.”

She turned as if ready to fly off.

“Wait, Tornado! There’s more, we found something.”

She stopped mid-air, shooting a sharp glare over her shoulder. “Out with it. Don’t waste my time.”

The cameraman reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black memory card.

The two men immediately paled.

“We didn’t find any camera equipment, but one of the guards searched their bag and found this. I… checked the contents. It’s… well…”

Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes. “Spit it out.”

The man swallowed. “They’re… indecent photos. Of you.”

Silence.

The memory card instantly disintegrated in the cameraman’s hand, reduced to dust that scattered on the breeze.

The two creeps immediately dropped to their knees, crying.

“PLEASE! your husband One Punch Man already punished us enough, our camera got destroyed and got he caught us the second time using our phones he flick our forehead. It was painful, we thought we could die.”

“He broke our phones just by looking at it!” the other added, sobbing.

The head of security stepped forward. “Yes, Tornado. Saitama was the one who caught them and alerted us. We detained them right after. We just thought you should know… before we hand them over to the authorities.”

Tatsumaki didn’t say anything.

She didn’t care about the explanations. She didn’t care about their cries for mercy.
What she did care about… was the nerve.

Two perverts. Taking her photos.

Her eye twitched.

A faint green aura started crackling around her.

“Oh no… she’s charging up,” one of the guards muttered, backing away.

The two men screamed and bowed repeatedly, practically kissing the sand. “WE’RE SORRY! YOUR HUSBAND ALREADY NEARLY KILLED US. PLEASE, WE CAN’T HANDLE A DOUBLE BOSS FIGHT!”

But Tatsumaki was already floating toward them, eyes glowing.

This time, she wasn’t going to hold back.

.

.

.

Saitama stood quietly behind a palm tree, hidden from Tatsumaki’s view. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched the two pervy men get launched across the beach like human garbage.

“Well,” he muttered, “at least she had fun.”

He could tell Tatsumaki genuinely enjoyed moments like that when she got to use her powers without holding back. Even earlier during the obstacle course, when she was competitive and snarky, she seemed… happy. Or at least more like herself.

But something changed near the end.

That last moment on the zipline before she stormed off there was something in her expression. She hadn’t just looked mad. She looked… shaken. Uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t explain.

It reminded him of that fight they had at home. The one where she went inside the bathroom and when she freak-out and destroyed half of the apartment. Saitama leaned against the tree for a moment, hands in his pockets.

“…Was that my fault?” he asked himself.

He’d messed with her a lot today. Poked her pride, joked about her hair, tugged her into a ridiculous zipline ride. It was all fun for him, he figured she’d push back like always. But this time was different ……

With a soft sigh, he started walking away from the scene, hands still tucked in his pockets.

“Buffet sounds good right about now.”

As he wandered down the sandy path, his expression turned thoughtful.

.

.

.

“I really wanted to talk to you….. About what happened that night?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Saitama reached the buffet area first, his eyes widening slightly at the sight.

In the center of the sprawling spread stood a golden fondue fountain, surrounded by elegant arrangements of gourmet dishes, glowing under soft amber lighting. A string quartet played softly in the background, and waiters in white gloves moved between tables with practiced grace.

“Whoa… this isn’t some cheap buffet,” Saitama muttered, mildly impressed. “Guess I’m gonna try everything.”

He grabbed a plate, a porcelain, not plastic and began piling it high with everything he could fit: filet mignon, lobster skewers, truffle mashed potatoes, chocolate-drizzled éclairs, and what looked like gold-steak. No shame.

Finding a random seat nearby, he sat down, fork in hand, ready to demolish his mountain of food.

But before he could take his first bite, a waiter appeared at his side and gently tapped his shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Saitama?”

Saitama looked up, suspicious but still holding a lobster claw before it could enter his mouth.

“We’ve actually prepared a more exclusive dinner for you this evening. If you would kindly follow me?”

“Uh, can I bring this plate with me?” he asked, holding it protectively.

The waiter smiled politely but firmly. “I’m afraid buffet items are not permitted inside Le Jardin Gourmet , sir.”

Saitama blinked. “Huh? The Jar-Den Garment?”

The waiter’s smile didn’t fade. “ Le Jardin Gourmet , our signature French fine-dining restaurant. It’s part of the exclusive itinerary arranged by the Hero Association.”

“Oh… fancy.” Saitama stood up reluctantly, glancing one last time at his untouched plate. “As long as it’s free, I guess.”

“Of course, sir. Right this way.”

They walked for a while, passing through the quieter side of the resort. The sound of the ocean faded, replaced by the soft trickle of fountains and the rustling of trimmed hedges in the breeze. The beach gave way to a lush garden terrace, strung with fairy lights and enclosed in ivy-covered archways. It looked like something out of a postcard.

When they arrived, Saitama noticed Tatsumaki already seated at a private table beneath a canopy of hanging orchids. She had changed into a sleek black dress, simple. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, looking thoroughly bored.

“About time,” she muttered without looking up.

Saitama scratched the back of his head and sat across from her. “You look… uh… very black,” he said awkwardly. “I mean, you always wear black, but still.”

“Wow,” she replied flatly. “What a compliment.”

She took a quick glance at Saitama. He didn’t wear any fancy clothes, just a simple casual white shirt with no collar and brown shorts.

He was ready for the insult, but this time she didn’t bother to throw any sassy comment about his clothes.

Saitama shrugged it off.

A waiter arrived with menus and set them down carefully. “Pleaze, take your time to browse ze menu. I weel return shortly to take your order, oui?”

Tatsumaki immediately lifted her menu and positioned it upright, using it like a wall to block her face. Saitama picked up his menu too, flipping through it.

His face slowly fell.

“…The hell is this? I don’t understand any of it…”

Everything was in French. There were no pictures. Just elegant names that sounded like Sims game character that he used to play when he was a kid.

Saitama frowned.

‘How the hell am I supposed to order? What even is a “foie gras de canard”... is that a spell to summon?’

He glanced at Tatsumaki, who was still hiding behind her menu. He sighed quietly.

A couple of minutes passed in complete silence. No conversation. Just the gentle breeze brushing through the garden, the soft rustling of leaves, and the faint chirp of crickets from afar.

 It was... peaceful.

Which, honestly, felt weird to Saitama.

He usually liked peace and quiet. But after spending time around Tatsumaki with her chaotic and sassy energy. It felt off seeing her sit there, so silent. Reserved. He notice again, this weird thing about her.

He shrugged off.

No problem, no stress, right? Maybe this was just how she preferred things. Better this than sparking another war between them. Yeah. Peace was good.

He shrugged off again.

He tried to focus on the menu again, flipping it back and forth like the words might translate if he stared long enough. Nothing changed. Just more French gibberish.

He peeked over the top. Tatsumaki was still hiding behind her menu like it was a barricade. Not even a twitch. 

Saitama shifted awkwardly in his seat.

The waiter finally returned with a profession smile and an over-the-top bow, “Bonsoir, monsieur et madame. Are ze lovely couple ready to order, oui?”

He turned to Saitama first.

Saitama blinked. Sweat began forming on his temple.

‘Crap, why me first? I was gonna copy whatever she said!’

The waiter smiled patiently. “Monsieur?”

“You’re asking me first?” he said, pointing to himself like it was a mistake.

“Mais oui,” the waiter said brightly. “Ladies first is traditional, but ze gentleman looked... eager.”

Saitama chuckled nervously. “Uh, right... eager.”

Without looking, he jabbed a finger at a random spot on the menu, praying to hoping that it wasn’t something cursed.

The waiter leaned in and tilted his head. “Ah, monsieur... zat is eau.”

“Would you like some eau for both you and madame Tornade?” He hope is something edible and not a frog or some shit.

You want some... uh, Tats-sumaki?” He almost shorted her name again. He doesn’t want to spark another fight between them…. not while he was hungry.

She didn’t even respond just scoffed quietly behind the menu.

“What elze?” The waiter was still looking at him expectantly.

The waiter waited patiently, pen still poised. “And... what elze, monsieur?”

Saitama panicked. “That’s... that’s all for me.” He put the menu down. It’s too painful for him to think. He’ll be grateful he manage to avoid any frog legs.

The waiter gave him slightly disappointed, nod. “Très bien.”

Tatsumaki finally shifted behind her menu, peeking just enough to glare at him before calmly giving her order in fluent French. The waiter beamed at her, wrote everything down like he was taking notes from a master.

“Je voudrais un confit de canard, s'il vous plaît. Assurez-vous que le canard ne soit pas sec. Ajoutez une portion de purée de pommes de terre en accompagnement. Après cela, je souhaiterais un dessert. Quel est votre meilleur dessert ?”

“Nous avons du baba au rhum, tout juste sorti du four.”

“Non, je ne veux pas d'alcool dans mon dessert. Avez-vous autre chose ?”

“Non, je ne veux pas d'alcool dans mon dessert. Avez-vous autre chose ?”

“Un Saint-Honoré, madame.”

“Non... Avez-vous des macarons ?

“Oui, madame!”

“Très bien. Apportez-les après le dîner, dans une boîte à emporter.” 

She leaned slightly toward the waiter and whispered.

“…Et apportez à cet egghead une andouillette. Et surtout, ajoutez extra extra de vinaigre.”

The waiter hesitated for a moment, surprised. “are you sûre, madame?”

She replied in a flat tone. “Oui. Il aime ça comme ça.”

The waitress bowed deeply before walking away.

Saitama’s jaw dropped. He just sat there, staring back and forth between Tatsumaki and the waiter, watching her casually exchange conversation in fluent French like it was her everyday language. He was genuinely amazed.

“You know French?”

Tatsumaki sipped her water, eyes still lazily scanning the menu. “You don’t?”

Saitama just stared at her, stunned. Who the hell did he marry?

Tatsumaki finally glanced at him, looking bored. “I’m surprised you don’t know I speak French. I mean, isn’t it obvious?”

“What...” he mumbled, looking genuinely clueless.

She rolled her eyes. “You moron. I’m talking about the files. Don’t you read anything they hand you? The Bio files, my bio files before we got married.”  

Saitama scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Not really. I skimmed some parts…”

Tatsumaki scoffed again and shook her head.

The dinner table fell into silence once more. Saitama shifted uncomfortably, then perked up, trying again. “Soo... when did you learn French?”

Tatsumaki barely looked at him as she answered flatly, “I’m half-French, you idiote. I’ve always known since I was a kid and I decided to take third language at school to advance my French and well the rest is history.”

“Ohh...”

Another round of awkward silence passed. Saitama quietly hoped she'd pick the conversation back up, but it looked like he'd have to do all the talking tonight.

He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. He never liked long conversations, and he definitely had no experience with dates. But he could try, right? Maybe this dinner could patch things up a little... maybe even finally get around to talking about that night ?

He cleared his throat. “So... does this mean Fubuki knows French too? I’ve never heard her say anything in French.”

“Hmph. Sadly, no.” Tatsumaki rested her chin on one hand, sounding mildly annoyed. 

“She was a difficult one when she was a younger. Said French was a dead language and refused to learn. Apparently, two languages were enough for her.”

“Two languages?”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t fall out. “Argh. Japanese and English, you dolt. If you haven’t noticed, the whole world basically runs on those two.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Saitama said, scratching his head. “But I don’t think French is a dead language. I mean, you and the waiter were talking really smoothly. It’s cool, you know... getting to know your heritage and stuff.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like a complete idiot. He wasn’t good at talking. Why did he open his big mouth again?

Tatsumaki was staring at him now, tilting her head slightly like he was bizarre exotic animal. Just when he thought she might say something, she quickly turned her eyes away again.

And there it was again the weird thing he kept noticing. 

She was avoiding eye contact with him.

Before Saitama could say anything else, their waiter returned, carrying a tray with a silver dome cover.

"Bon appétit, monsieur et madame," the waiter said, flourishing the tray with a dramatic spin before setting the plates down.

The waiter lifted the dome off Saitama’s plate with a dramatic voilà!

Saitama blinked. 

The smell hit him first. Then the sight.

He stared down at his dish. A coiled, greasy-looking sausage slathered in mustard sauce.

‘The hell is this!?’

"This... uh... looks kinda weird," he muttered, poking it suspiciously with his fork.

Tatsumaki gave a smug little smile over her water glass. "You’ll survive, egghead."

Saitama narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait... you ordered this for me, didn’t you?"

“Well you’re an idiot to order ‘Eau’ a water for a dish. I just help you to order. Well you know get to know the French Heritage.” She said smirking. "You’re welcome."

Saitama sighed heavily.

“Whatever, as long is not a frog legs or snails. I’m fine. Free food was free food.”

Meanwhile, Tatsumaki calmly picked at her elegant dish like she was a princess at a royal banquet. It made Saitama feel even more like some peasant who stumbled into the wrong castle.

Still, even though she was clearly messing with him... He could see the corners of her mouth twitching. Like she was trying not to smile.

Saitama poked it with his fork. It jiggled. He glanced up at her suspiciously. “You ordered me a French hot dog?”

Tatsumaki shrugged. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just sausage.”

The waiter leaned in, smiling way too much. "Is made of... how you say... tripe! Ze finest part of ze pig!"

Saitama froze mid-poke. "Tripe?"

"Oui, monsieur!" the waiter beamed proudly. "Intestines! Very traditional!"

Saitama turned slightly green.

Meanwhile, Tatsumaki delicately cut into her beautifully roasted duck, the skin crisp and glistening perfectly under the golden lights. She savored a small bite, her eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

"Mm... cooked perfectly," she muttered.

Saitama sat there staring at his intestine sausage like it had personally insulted him. He sighed heavily, grabbed his fork and knife, and cut off a piece. It squeaked.

He froze.

Tatsumaki noticed and nearly choked on her bite trying not to laugh.

Saitama chewed suspiciously. The texture was weird. The taste was... also weird. Kinda strong. Kinda sour. He had to force himself not to grimace.

"Ugh... what is this, a prank sausage?" he muttered under his breath.

Tatsumaki picked up her fork daintily, slicing into her perfectly cooked duck like she hadn’t heard him. But he caught the slight smirk on her face.

"You’re eating Andouillette , " she said, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "A delicacy."

"Delicacy my ass," Saitama grumbled, trying to scrape off some of the sauce.

Tatsumaki just shrugged and continued eating, totally unbothered.

Saitama sighed and kept eating anyway. Food was food. He wasn’t gonna waste it, even if it smelled kinda funky.

Between bites, he added, “Still... thanks for ordering for me earlier. Was starting to think I'd end up eating a napkin by mistake.”

Tatsumaki snorted, hiding it behind her glass of water.

Saitama smiled at the sound. 

“So, what are your plans after this? I was thinking of checking out their massage package. I’ve never had a massage before.”

Tatsumaki paused, tapping her fork against her cheek as she thought.

“Not sure. Most of the stuff on their itinerary isn’t really my thing. I’ll probably just head back and sleep. Too much happened today.” She looked down at her dish.

A peaceful silence settled again but this time, it felt different.

It was not heavy. It was not comfortable but it wasn’t awkward either.

It was Okay.

Saitama watched Tatsumaki quietly for a moment. She was relaxed, her shoulders no longer tense, her face calm. The evening breeze ruffled her short hair slightly, the garden lights throwing a soft glow over her.

Without really thinking, he blurted, “Hey... about that night …”

Tatsumaki froze, fork halfway to her mouth.

Saitama scratched his cheek, suddenly feeling dumb again. "I mean… when you, uh... kinda ran off."

She set her fork and knife down carefully. Her fingers curled slightly against the tablecloth.

The waiter appeared at that moment, carrying a small, fancy box with "macarons" written in gold lettering. “Here iz your dessert, madame et monsieur. I 'ope you enjoy,” the waiter said before quietly stepping away.

Tatsumaki didn’t even glance at the waiter or at the box. Her green eyes stared his dish but not at Saitama. She rubbed her left shoulder absently, her body language tense.

“I... I’m full. I think I’m gonna head in,” she mumbled, pushing her chair back hurriedly.

Before he could say anything else, she got up and dashed away.

Saitama half-stood, reaching out. “W-wait, Tatsumaki!”

But she was already gone.

Saitama slumped back into his chair, staring at the untouched box of macarons between them.

“Crap…..”

.

.

.

Tatsumaki moved quickly through the winding paths of the resort, arms crossed tight over her chest.
Her footsteps were sharp against the stone walkway, her heart pounding harder than she wanted to admit.

“Stupid baldy...” she muttered under her breath. ‘Why did he have to bring that up now?’

As she cut a corner near one of the garden buildings, she nearly collided with a young hotel staff member a woman dressed neatly in the resort's uniform.

"Ah! Pardon, madame!" the woman said quickly, bowing politely.

She hesitated, studying Tatsumaki’s tense posture with a concerned look. 

"Forgive me, but... you seem a little stressed. If you are interested, we have just opened our new hot spring spa. It's very modern, indoor and outdoor pools, aromatherapy baths, and even private suites. Perhaps it would help you... unwind?"

Tatsumaki blinked at her. ‘Hot spring? Modern, clean, and private as in no one would bother her?’

"...Fine," she said shortly, pretending like she didn’t care, even though the idea of escaping sounded better by the second.

The staff member smiled warmly and gestured. "This way, madame. We offer a private session at this hour, if you prefer."

Private sounded good. No Saitama. No questions. 

Just a little peace.

The staff member led her through a discreet side entrance, where the noise of the resort quickly faded into a quiet, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

The walls here were smooth stone, lit by soft recessed lighting. Gentle music floated through the air.

"This way, madame," the woman said, handing her a folded towel and a keycard. "Your private suite is number five. Feel free to use the amenities as long as you wish. There is an intercom if you need anything."

Tatsumaki gave a short nod and accepted the items, walking down the quiet hallway alone. Her footsteps echoed slightly against the sleek floors.

Suite Five.

She scanned the card and pushed the door open.

Inside, the private hot spring was nothing like she imagined. 

It wasn’t traditional at all. No bamboo, no wooden barrels, no misty rocks like the old Japanese onsens. Instead, it was minimalistic and modern: glass walls overlooking a small garden, smooth black tile around a deep circular pool, and steam rising softly from the clear water. Soft lights shimmered beneath the surface, giving it a faint glow.

A nearby panel let her adjust the temperature and the "aroma therapy" settings.

She set her towel down, taking a small breath. It was... nice. Almost too nice.

Tatsumaki glanced toward the door, half-expecting someone to bust in because nothing ever went normally for her. But it stayed shut.

She touched the water, checking the temperature to her liking. Just as she suspected, the hot spring was too hot. She always been too sensitive to hot water, her skin would easily turn red and overheated easily.

She adjusted the temperature to warm. She deep her feet testing it again. She nodded satisfied with it. She adjusted the steam aroma therapy more smoke making the ambiance more mystical.

Finally, she pulled off her dress, folded it neatly, and slipped into the water.

The heat immediately soaked into her muscles, dragging a small, unwilling sigh out of her.

She sank lower until only her head and shoulders were above the surface. Her bangs clung slightly to her forehead. Her arms floated loosely beside her.

She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until now. Maybe this was exactly what she needed. Just one hour. One hour of not thinking about him , about that night , about whatever the hell was happening between them.

Tatsumaki closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the smooth stone ledge.

The water was perfect. The garden outside was silent, except for the faint chirp of a distant bird.

For the first time since the honeymoon started, she allowed herself to rest.

At least... for now.

.

.

.

Saitama sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the box of macarons. The night air felt a little colder now, and the soft rustle of the garden leaves suddenly felt too loud.

He rubbed the back of his neck, debating with himself.

‘Should I just leave her alone? Maybe she needs space...’ 

He let out a soft sigh. Being a hero was way easier than this crap.

After a few more seconds of hesitation, he finally stood up. He picked up the box of macarons and held it in one hand.

"...Tch. Can't even enjoy dessert properly," he muttered.

Pushing his chair back, Saitama started walking, one hand stuffed in his pocket, his usual lazy steps now a little heavier.

Maybe getting that massage wouldn’t be such a bad idea... Maybe once he relaxed, he’d figure out what the hell to do next.

Whatever this mess between them was, he wasn’t going to fix it by just sitting there like a lump.

.

.

.

After about half an hour of quiet relaxation, Tatsumaki's eyes began to drift shut. She let out a soft yawn, inhaling the soothing scent of lavender as her body finally surrendered to the warmth. Her head felt heavy, and she leaned back against the edge of the pool, arms resting loosely on either side.

She stared at the frosted glass door across the room, the steam rising from the water blurring everything into soft shapes and shadows. The pool in front of her was empty, the gentle bubbles rising quietly to the surface. Her eyelids fluttered.

Just as she began drifting into sleep, a faint movement a shadowy figure flickering behind the frosted glass. A soft click of a keycard unlocking the door, followed by quiet, barely-there footsteps.

‘Probably just hotel staff ’, she reasoned. Not worth opening her eyes or getting paranoid.

Her final thought before slipping into sleep. ‘He won’t find me.’

.

.

.

Saitama took a deep breath. The lavender aroma in the air was amazing ‘almost too relaxing’. He could already tell he’d pass out if he stayed long enough.

The place looked different from any hot spring he’d visited before. It was ultra-modern, not the traditional wooden style with stones and bamboo. Soft light shimmering surrounding the area, the rising steam from the pool, and the smooth tiles gleamed beneath his feet.

Still, hot water was hot water. Saitama figured he might as well enjoy it since he missed out on that massage earlier. He’d been a little bummed about it, but the hotel staff had suggested this new state-of-the-art spa facility as an alternative. Apparently, it had just opened and featured private rooms.

Sounded good to him.

He walked slowly toward the pool, placing his towel on a nearby faux rock. He folded his robe and set it neatly beside it. 

Then, stepping carefully, he lowered himself into the water…..

Sploosh.

A little harder than he meant to.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced the calm. He accidently woke the Tiny Gremlin.

“ARGHH!! YOU?! What are you doing here?!”

Tatsumaki popped up from the water, eyes wide and furious. She immediately tried to cover herself, ducking lower into the pool, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and curling her knees beneath the water.

Saitama blinked in surprise, scanning the pool area. Was that... Yep. Right in front of him. Tiny, furious, and very much naked.

“Oh. Crap.”

He blinked, deadpan, mouth slightly ajar. ‘How did I not notice her here?’

How did he end up in this mess again? He did wanted to talk to her but definitely not like this. He’d just been looking forward to a quiet soak. 

“I was promised a private room!” she yelled. “Why the hell are you here, you pervert?!”

Saitama immediately threw his hands up, water sloshing around him. “Whoa, hey! Relax! I didn’t know you were in here!”

He gave her a deadpan stare as she curled up tighter, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Uhh, I didn’t plan this. I thought I booked a private room too. Maybe the staff assumed it was for both of us... I mean, we’re married. Married people usually, y’know... always together?”

 “Hell no! I’m not sitting here with you! I want my private space! You said you were going for a massage. Why are you here?” 

Tatsumaki adjusted herself again trying to sink inside deeper but she was already at the bottom.

“I did go,” Saitama said. “But the guy tried so hard and I still didn’t feel anything. They even brought out a sumo wrestler. Still felt like I was being poked by air. I was kinda bummed, so they offered this place instead.”

Tatsumaki’s eye twitched.

“I figured I’d soak a bit,” he added casually. “It’s not like there was a sign that said, ‘ Danger: Angry Gremlin Inside.”

She growled. “Call me that again and I’ll turn this spa into a crater.”

“What happened to ‘I’m not that hot headed person that doesn't destroy everything,’ huh?”

Tatsumaki growled again.

Saitama raised both hands again, trying to look as harmless as a bald man in water could be. “Okay, okay! I swear, I didn’t mean to crash your weird lavender bubble party.”

“I came here first. I’m staying. You get out and find another private room.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m already soaked. Walking around dripping wet’s just gonna mess up the floors. I don’t want to trouble the staff. Plus... it’s late.”

“Arghhh, you’re unbelievable, that’s the stupidest reasons I’ve ever heard.”

Another pause. He notice again this time she still hadn’t looked at him once. She kept talking, but her eyes were glued to the wall beside her.

“Fine. If you’re not getting out, then I will.”

She paused, hesitating, eyes darting around like she was searching for something to cover up. Then she glanced at him only for a second before turning away again, flustered.

“Stop staring at me! Close your eyes or something!”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?! I want to get up I don’t want you eyeing me naked. I knew you were a pervert! Just like those stupid camera guys! Ugh, pervert baldy….”

Saitama raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not like those guys…. I don’t feel….”

Tatsumaki perked up slightly, almost glancing at him but he quickly changed course, covering it with something he knew would annoy her. 

“Tsk…. You’re not really my type, so I don’t really care.” 

“Hah?! What is that supposed to mean?”

The water began to glow faintly green, bubbling more aggressively.

 “I mean….”

“If you’re making fun of my chest again, I swear I’ll turn you into….”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about that! You’re the one bringing it up!!” 

“You men are all the same. Bet you like those bubble-boob bimbos.”

“I feel like no matter what I say, you’ll explode anyway... If it makes you feel any better I barely even see you in here. It’s dark.”

Tatsumaki groaned into her hands, muttering under her breath. The green glow slowly faded, but her frustration remain. Saitama quickly thought of something else, hoping to steer the conversation away from a full-blown psychic meltdown.

“…So, uh,” he muttered, eyes drifting to the tile wall, “Nice tile work.”

“This is exactly why I came here to get away from you. But here you are like gum stuck in my hair, impossible to get rid of.” She groaned louder.

Saitama sighed watching her. ‘She still wouldn’t look at him. Maybe this was his shot to just… talk.’

She wasn’t leaving, not yet.

He glanced at her sideways.

“…You’re really not gonna look at me even once?”

 “Why would I?” she snapped, still facing the wall.

“I dunno. Might be nice. Conversation’s easier when we make eye contact.”

“Are you seriously trying to bring this up now? While we’re both naked?!”

 “We’re in a hot spring,” he deadpanned. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Ugh!” She covered her face with her hands. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’ve been avoiding looking at me since meeting with Stich,” he said softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

She scoffed. “This is not the time or place, moron. Read the room.”

Saitama tilted his head, watching the rising steam. “You sure? We’re both trapped here. No monsters, no Association, just warm water and weird tile art.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not even if I ask nicely?” He smirked. “Please, Tatsu-chan?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Okay, Spinny-chan.”

“Even worse!”

“C’mon, Tatsu-bean... please? Or are you scared of me?”

He smirked at that. Poking the dragon always got her to bite.

“As if I’m scared of a bowling-ball head like you!”

“Then look at me. Right now Tatsu-bean. The water’s dark, it’s dim in here, I can barely see you, I bet you barely can see me too.” 

Saitama curl up his knees too covering his part.

“Hey, I’m all covered up… well sort off. C’mon look at me Tatsu-bean.”

“Shut up! Stop giving me weird nick names!” 

She finally whipped around and glared at him, face bright red definitely not from the steam.

Saitama smiled, a small victory. “Finally looking at me.”

In a split second her eyes shifted, she immediately turned away. 

But Saitama manages to catch it, the moment of eye contact and it tells everything. It was her usual death glare. At first, yes. But then he saw it …. It changed.

It wasn’t annoyance. It wasn’t anger. It was shaken, uncomfortable. It was…. fear

She was afraid of him.

The assumption Saitama had avoided for a while now suddenly felt real. Behind all the snark, ego, and psychic attitude… She was covering something.

She was scared. 

Of him.

 “…Why are you so mean ? ” she muttered, sighing in defeat.

Saitama stuttered. “Um, I-I….”

He was speechless. Now he knows it was definitely his fault. 

A thick silence followed. Only the gentle bubbling of the spa jets filled the space. 

Tatsumaki had sunk so low she was practically just a pair of eyes above water, curled up at the edge. Tatsumaki hoping he wouldn’t bring up questioning about that night, things already awkward enough.

Saitama tried to cut the tension loose. 

He coughed first. “Hey, is it just me, or is the water not that hot? I’m starting to get cold.”

“It’s not cold. I set it to warm. I don’t do well with hot water…”she mumbled. 

But Saitama didn’t hear her over the splashing water while walking towards the temperature control panel.

“Huh. Guess I should crank it up a bit.”

Tatsumaki blinked, startled, as he adjusted the setting to: Warm > Hot > Extra Hot > Boiling Point!
The Temperature was raising fast.

“Hey, w-what are you doing?! Stop! Stop! Kyaaaa!”

Tatsumaki panicked, glowing bright green.

She tried to stop Saitama with her powers but forgot her powers doesn’t work on him especially the panic moment like this and lack of focus. The water splash around making a mess everywhere like having mini tsunami.

She spotted a small towel resting on the faux rock behind him and immediately used her powers to fling it into his face, covering his eyes.

“Gha – Wha the?!” Saitama shouted.

By the time he yanked it off, Tatsumaki had already launched out of the water, wrapped herself in her towel with lightning speed, and zipped out of the room in a trail of steam and fury.

Saitama blinked slowly at the empty doorway, towel still in hand.

“…Guess that’s a no on raising the temperature.”

.

.

.

A young female hotel staff member stood quietly outside Suite Five, folding towels with practiced care. She was on standby, just in case the guest inside needed further assistance.

Her coworker strolled over, leaning against the counter with a grin.

“Hey girl, let’s go grab supper or something from the kitchen.”

“No thanks,” she replied, still focused on her stack of towels. “I have a guest in there. I can’t leave yet.”

“What? It’s 10:30 p.m. Who’s using the spa this late?”

“It’s Tatsumaki,” she said softly. “She looked kinda stressed earlier, so I offered her our new state-of-the-art hot spring. It’s just a one-hour soak. She should be out soon.”

“Ooh, her~” her coworker teased, smirking. “I sent her husband in a little while ago. Pretty sure they’ll be… busy.”

“What?! Why would you do that? Tatsumaki specifically requested a private suite!”

Her coworker laughed.

“Are you kidding me? She’ll be fine! It’s her husband, why would she be mad about him joining her?”

“B-but she asked for a private suite…”

“You’re so young and naïve,” the coworker said, patting her shoulder. “They’re newlyweds. When someone like her says ‘private,’ she probably means private with the husband. You’ll get it someday.”

The younger woman still looked unconvinced.

“Besides,” the coworker added, waving a hand, “The VIP from the Hero Association requested to make sure the super couple is always together. I was told they like their ‘alone time’ together. Just following orders.” She shrugged.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream echoed from behind the frosted glass door of Suite Five.

The hotel staff froze.

A loud splash followed. Then they heard a few muffled voices between the two and then they clearly heard Saitama’s voice: 

“...Huh. Guess I should crank it up a bit.”

The younger woman's staff member’s eyes widened, her face turned bright red.

“O-oh… wow. Already?” older women staff whispered, scandalized.

Another splash. A wet towel slapped against the inside frosted glass. Then came another sharp yell. “Kyaaaaaa~!”

The young woman’s blush deepened to crimson. Her coworker just chuckled and gently tugged her arm.

“See? Told you they’re fine. Come on. Let’s go get some macarons, I heard the chef made extras.”

.

.

.

Tatsumaki flew through the corridors like a tiny green bullet, heading straight for the changing room. She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it with a sharp click. 

The moment she caught sight of herself in the large mirror, she scowled. Her entire body was red, flushed red. Not from embarrassment, she told herself. Definitely not that. 

“The hell is wrong with that stupid baldy. Trying to cook me alive in that water?” she muttered, adjusting her towel.

That’s when she realized her dress was still back in the spa. With him. “Dammit,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Frantically scanning the room, she searched for anything she could wear. After a few moments, she spotted a guest robe folded neatly on a shelf. She grabbed it, dried off as quickly as she could, and threw it on, tying the sash tightly around her waist.

Once composed, she unlocked the door and floated down the hallway, keeping low and quiet. She passed a few hotel staff along the way some turned to look, others whispered behind polite smiles. But that was normal. She was used to being stared at. Hero celebrity and all that. 

‘They’re probably talking about how I almost flatted those pervert creeps. Or how scary she looked.’ Tatsumaki shrugged off the thought and kept walking.

She walked pass with another staff member, she caught the end part of their conversation.

“Did you hear about the perverts Tatsumaki trashed earlier? I’m so glad she caught them. Who knows what they would’ve done next…” 

“Are kidding me. It was Saitama, her husband capture them first. He was so nice and sweet. He turned them in but asked us not to tell Tatsumaki.”

“Really? Why?”

“He said he wanted her to relax. That she hates knowing there’re creeps lurking around with cameras. Tatsumaki doesn’t like weirdos with cameras.”

“Aww… That’s actually really sweet. Even when his wife can kick ass, he still wanted to protect her.”

“I wouldn’t say protect, more like… have her back . ”

Tatsumaki drifted outside toward the dinner garden. It was empty now, quiet under the night sky. Tatsumaki didn’t stop. She rose into the air, fly higher until the buildings and lights shrank below her. From up in the clouds, the resort looked like a painting, waves lapping the shore, soft lights glowing across the island, and stars scattered above her like silver dust.

She closed her eyes and took a long breath.

She needed to clear her mind. Regain her focus. Regain control.

Saitama was becoming a real nuisance. Poking around, asking questions. Pushing about that night. He dare disturbing her peace even in the hot spring ….and somehow, without even trying , was crawling under her skin again.

“That man has no emotional awareness,” she muttered. “None.”

“Stay calm, stay strong,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t let him get to you.”

But still….. Tatsumaki couldn’t stop thinking about what those staffs had said. 

He wanted me to relax?

He didn’t even tell me?

...Why would he do that?

After hovering there for a while, just long enough for her pulse to settle. Tatsumaki finally went back down toward the resort. She glided quietly to the front reception desk, where the night staff was half-asleep, barely holding up their head.

BAM!

Her hand hit the counter, jolting the receptionist awake with a startled gasp.

“I’d like to change rooms,” she said coolly, forcing a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Single room. Immediately.”

The receptionist blinked, scrambling for the terminal. “Oh, uh, is there a problem with your current room, madam?”

“No,” Tatsumaki said sharply, then softened her voice just a little. “I just want my own room. And don’t tell Saitama about it.” 

The receptionist paused. “O-oh… understood.” They began typing quickly, avoiding her glare.

.

.

.

Tatsumaki stood in front of room 1024, the keycard in hand. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. ‘This is nothing. I can handle this . No need to be nervous.’ She told herself for what felt like the hundredth time. It didn’t worked.

She swiped the card, and the door clicked open. Walking in casually, she was greeted by an extravagant room.

The room was spacious, far too spacious. The oversized bed practically swallowed the center of the suite, covered in rose petals arranged to spell out “Happy Honeymoon” in loopy cursive. She blinked at it.

“Ugh, what with these petal roses everywhere I go.”

Everything reeked of over-the-top romance. There were little heart-shaped towels on the pillows. A chilled bottle of champagne sat in a bucket near the table. Out past the sliding balcony doors, she could hear the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. It should’ve been calming. It was calming… almost.

Her luggage had already arrived at her room. ‘Good finally someone’s doing their job right.’ With a quick wave of her hand, her clothes neatly arranged themselves in the closet. Tatsumaki finally changed out of her robe, slipping into pajamas. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment.

She wore a soft mint green pajama set. Button-up top, loose-fitting pants.

‘Should I wear this? Or just grab an oversized shirt instead?’

She liked this pajama set, it was soft and comfortable. 

Even Fubuki always advises not to wear such a thing . “Ugh, who cares?” she scowled. “I’m not Fubuki. I don’t need to wear skimpy outfits to sleep just to look cute.”

She was adjusting her top when suddenly the bathroom door swung open with a loud whoosh.

“Oh hey, you’re finally here,” Saitama said casually as he walked in, brushing past her shoulder.

Tatsumaki stood frozen.

It was him . Saitama. 

Shirtless

Wearing nothing but a pair of loose pajama pants blue with square patterns. He strolled in like he owned the place.

She hoped tonight, she really hoped. She could sleep alone tonight without any nightmares, without being jolted awake by the usual terrors. Hoping no dealing with him after everything that happened today.

She just wanted rest. She was very tired. 

That idiot receptionist. His useless ass did nothing. She waited half an hour just to request a simple room, no fancy extras, no balcony. Hell, she would've taken a windowless storage room at this point. But no, he couldn’t even handle that. He kept giving stupid excuses: “We’re fully booked tonight.” Not a single available room. God, was everyone incompetent today?

Suddenly, Saitama stood in front of her, holding a sleek beige paper bag with a fancy pink embossed logo on it.

“They wanted me to give you this. Said it’s a gift. Didn’t say from who,” he said casually.

Tatsumaki snatched the bag without peeking inside. She didn’t dig far, her fingers touched a soft fabric. She pulled out a bright red piece of something….. It was lingerie.

Bright red lingerie.

Her mouth hung open.

Saitama stared at her or maybe at the thing in her hands. She couldn’t tell.

Her heart skipped. Her grip tightened.

‘The nerve of those bastards giving me this. He’s standing right in front of me. There’s no way I can hide it. No time to throw it away.’

Panic began creeping in. She couldn’t even look at Saitama. 

‘Is he expecting me to wear this? This bright colored red lingerie?’

‘Are they trying to set me up for.... again?’

‘Is Saitama expecting something tonight?’

‘Was this planned?’

Red lace burned in her hand. Her breath caught.

Tatsumaki thought she would never do it again. That night it will be her last time. What was she kidding, this is their honeymoon, this is what they've been planning to do with her.

Her chest went tight. Earlier she was nervous but now? With him standing there shirtless, and this thing in her hand?

She froze, unable to move.

Then, calmly, Saitama walked over to his luggage, pulled out a pajama shirt, and started buttoning it up.

“Man… such a lame gift, huh?” he said, tugging the collar into place. “What, they expect you to sleep in that? You’d freeze. Looks like it got torn or something. You should just toss it. Probably ripped while they were mailing it… heh”

He chuckled awkwardly, clearly trying to fill the silence.

Tatsumaki looked at him, trying to read his expression. ‘Is he dense... or doing this on purpose?’

Saitama fluffed the pillows at the edge of the bed. “Oh, I brought your macarons from dinner and your dress that you accidently forgot at the hot spring.” He pointed toward the coffee table.

She nodded quickly, she got an opening to get out of there. Without a word, she stuffed the lingerie back into the bag and tossed it straight into the trash bin. Then she grabbed her skincare and toothbrush, floating straight into the bathroom.

Finally alone.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth. She took a few steps back looking at the mirror. There was no turning back now. She is indeed wearing her usual green mint pajamas. The fabric was soft, with little swirl patterns on it. 

Comfortable. Familiar. Normal.

He saw it right. He didn’t seem to be making fun of her.

So far he didn’t say a word about her pajamas or ask her to wear that skimpy lingerie. Hell, he even suggested throwing it away. Let’s hope he stayed silent…. as long as he didn’t ask about that night or more ….she’d survive.

She was too tired to argue or put up a fight tonight. No energy to deal with stupid nicknames or teasing. She hated how insecure she felt around him lately.

The shame of the hot spring incident was still burning in her memory. Sure, they were married now, and technically he could see her however he wanted… but that kind of vulnerability? She’s not used to it.

Not yet.

At least tonight, she didn’t have to worry. He seemed too dense to pick up on anything. Or maybe… maybe he was not interested.

She shook her head, letting out a slow breath. ‘Whatever. As long as he hadn’t crossed any lines.’

She stared into her own tired eyes in the reflection.

‘I’ll be fine. Right?’

Now, the only thing she needed to focus on was sleep. Another add on the list of worries.

‘Please, no nightmares,’ she begged herself. ‘Just one peaceful night. Let me sleep.’

.

.

.

Tatsumaki hovered by the bathroom door for a few seconds, steeling herself before finally stepping out. The soft swish of her slippers was the only sound as she walked back into the suite.

The lights were dim now. One of the bedside lamps cast a warm, sleepy glow over the oversized bed that earlier had been covered in rose petals spelling “Happy Honeymoon.” That was gone. It was cleaned up. She figured it had to be Saitama’s doing.

She expected to find him already in bed. Instead, when she walked further into the room, she noticed a foot sticking out from the edge of the bed…. on the floor.

To her surprise, Saitama was lying on the floor.

He was on his side, one arm folded under a pillow, a blanket casually thrown over his waist. He glanced up when he noticed her standing there.

“Oh hey, you’re done.”

“…Why are you on the floor?” she asked, arms crossed.

“I’m sleeping here.”

 “…Why?”

“I actually don’t like beds. I prefer sleeping on the futon, it’s better for the back.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not answering my question. The floor is not a futon.”

“Yeah, but the floor here’s expensive. So technically, it feels like sleeping on a high-class futon.”

“…Baldy, are you serious?”

“Yup,” he said without hesitation, rolling to face the balcony. The conversation was over, apparently.

Tatsumaki stared at him a moment longer. Oddly enough, the knot in her chest eased a little.

She tiptoed over to the bed, still not entirely satisfied with this weird arrangement. Peering over the edge, she studied him again.

“…Um,” she mumbled. “We’re just going to sleep, right? You’re not planning doing…. anything else?”

She caught a flicker of his face in the reflection on the balcony door, trying to read any hidden intentions if he had any attention coming close to her tonight.

“Nah, I’m beat,” he replied, voice tired. “The food made me too full, and the hot spring knocked me out. I’m basically in coma mode. If I move, it’ll be by accident.”

He let out a huge yawn to drive the point home.

“…Okay,” Tatsumaki said softly.

She climbed up onto the massive bed, settling cross-legged in the center. She felt ridiculously small more than ever. There were too many pillows, and the comforter practically can swallow her whole.

She stared at one pillow, then another and another, unsure what to do with them. She wasn’t a cuddler. This was overkill. The extra pillows around looked so wasteful.

She glanced again toward the balcony, catching his reflection in the glass. Her fingers scratched at her arm nervously. 

“Baldy, do you want extra pillows? I…um, don’t really need this many.” she muttered softly.

Saitama, lying on his back, stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment before he could respond, only for two pillows to land squarely on his face.

“Mhtff…. Hey!” he grunted, sitting up and letting them fall to his side.

“What? I said I didn’t want them,” Tatsumaki muttered, already shifting the rest aside. She arranged them to either side of her like a small barricade.

To keep herself in… or to keep him out? he wondered.

He glanced at her, quietly studying her face. She looked pale and tired. His chest ached a little but he didn’t say anything. He lay back down on the cold, expensive floor, pulled the pillows in. One under his head for extra support, the other he hugged to his chest. 

Silence stretched between them. The waves outside crashed in a steady rhythm against the distant shore. Somewhere downstairs, a drunk couple burst into loud, obnoxious laughter. The air in the room was scented faintly with lavender.

Tatsumaki lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind was buzzing. Her thoughts refused to settle.

‘Is he really sleeping? He’s not going to… climb up here, right?’

‘What the hell am I thinking?! He’s not that kind of person. Calm down, Tatsumaki. If he was going to do anything, he would’ve done it already.’

He told me to throw the lingerie away, didn’t he? So that means he’s not interested. Right?’

‘But… he is strong. If he wanted to, he could….’

‘No! No. He’s not that kind of person. Stop thinking like that. ’

She shook her head slightly.

Her hand moved to her chest. Her heart was pounding too fast. She tried to focus. To think logically. Something, anything pleasant.

She remembered the resort staff talking about Saitama earlier. About what he did to those creeps. How he quietly dealt with them.

She once randomly mentioned how much she hates people taking misused photos of her. 

And he’d done something about it. Without even telling her.

He didn’t make a show of it. Didn’t gloat. Didn’t even bring it up. In fact, he asked the staff to hide it from her.

‘He didn’t do it for praise. He just did it.’

She could’ve handled it herself. Could’ve crushed those perverts into dust. But he acted before she even noticed.

‘Why did he do that?  Just to have my back?’

She hadn’t thanked him. Instead, she pranked his dinner. She could’ve helped him order something better. She could’ve just… asked what he wanted. Helped him eat something he liked.

Even in the hot spring…He hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t looked at her the wrong way. Hadn’t laughed at her or mocked her for panicking.

He gave her those stupid nicknames, sure. But they weren’t cruel. They were almost… playful. At least he wasn’t making fun of her like before.

But sure, he did almost boil her alive. But still… maybe they were even now. Right?

“…Hey, Sai…Baldy. Are you asleep?”

 “Hmm…”

 “I just wanted to tell you that… I found out.”

“…Huh? Found out what?”

She didn’t look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. Her legs shifted under the comforter, curling in slightly under her knees.

“I bought the macarons for you,” she mumbled, “for… kicking their asses.”

“Huh? I don’t get it…”

“I mean… I got them to t-thank you,” she said, voice a little firmer. “I found out you dealt with those creeps. You destroyed their camera and their phones, right? So… t-hanks.”

She exhaled sharply, breath trembling a little. Who knew saying thank you would be this damn hard?

“Oh… the staff told you, huh? Guess the secret’s out,” he said quietly. “I didn’t do much, really. I didn’t even finish the job… they still had the memory card. If I’d been a little more aware…..”

“Hey! Security found the memory card, right?” she cut in. “You handed those perverts over. The team searched their stuff, who knows where they were hiding it? They reported everything to me. I already crushed it. Nothing got leaked.

Neither of us knew they had one hidden. We’re not tech people. So yeah… you did the right thing.”

Saitama shifted again, uncomfortably.

“I should’ve done more…”

‘Was he… brooding?’ Tatsumaki blinked.

“Hey, Baldy,” she said, frowning at the ceiling, “you kicked their asses. I kicked their asses. Between the two of us, we probably gave them enough trauma to quit photography forever.”

Silence again.

“…You’re not gonna report me to the Hero Association, right?” she asked, voice quieter now.

“Report you? For what?”

"I nearly killed those creeps... but they were still civilians. You saw it, right? I lost control.”

Another beat of silence. Then…..

“They were scum, Tatsumaki,” he said simply. “They got what they deserved. And you didn’t kill them. You were in control. I trust you.”

She froze.

That answer… that wasn’t what she expected. 

And just like that, the tight knot in her chest loosen more. Her heart calmed. Her breath came easier.

“…You’re not scared of sleeping in the dark or something, right? I can leave a light on.” Saitama asked annoyingly.

“Just shut up and sleep,” she said. But her voice was a little softer.

Saitama didn’t answer. The room grew still again.

And slowly, quietly, she inched the blanket up over her nose, just enough to hide the small, nervous twist of her mouth. 

Please, just let me sleep , she thought again.

But across the bed on the floor, Saitama had already started snoring.

Of course he did.

.

.

.

The soft hum of the air conditioner, the distant crash of waves, and the occasional rustle of sheets were the only sounds.

Tatsumaki lay still, her eyes closed, but her breath had grown uneven. Beneath the comforter, her fingers twitched slightly. Her brow furrowed.

She was in a solid white room, there were no windows, no doors. Laughter, crying, and screams echoed around her.… Her chest tightened. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t scream. There were no escape.

Hands….  invisible hands, grabbed her wrists. Her ankles. She was pinned. Paralyzed. Breathless.

Her hand clenched hard on the sheets.

And there it was.

The shadowy figure. That towering, faceless shape. Smothering. Familiar.

She jolted awake with a strangled gasp.

Tatsumaki sat upright, breathing hard, the echo of the dream still clinging to her skin like sweat. Her heart thundered. Her eyes darted across the room…. reality slowly coming back. 

The pillows had floated up, some pressed to the ceiling, stretched taut by her unconscious psychic grip. Another lay on the floor, warped and trembling, threatening to burst into a cloud of feathers.

The furniture around the room was still intact but the hanging towels were dropped on the floor and the mirror was slanted to the side. The room looks like it was hit by a mini earthquake. But no major damage, just clutter. Which she easily put everything back into place.

She waved a hand. The pillows settled. The mirror straightened. The room returned to normal.

She peaked over the edge checking if Saitama was awake. He was cuddling the pillow facing to the bed frame, his leg looked like was struggling with his blanket. 

“Weirdo.” She whispered.

She couldn’t see his face, it was covered but his breathing was relaxed. He was indeed still asleep.

Good, she has no idea what lame excuse she needs to give. No way she was letting him see her like that again. Not weak. Not broken.

‘Nightmares. Still? At my age? Pathetic.’

She shook her head.

The cloak on the bed side table. It was just 1:45am. 

Barely the middle of the night.

She groaned quietly. No way she was going back to sleep. Not after that. Not with the dream still clinging to her spine like ice. If she slipped again, if she lost control. The next outburst might not be so harmless. She couldn’t risk Saitama seeing her like that again. Couldn’t risk the entire resort waking up.

So she stayed awake. All night.

.

.

.

The chirping of birds broke through the silence, and warm sunlight crept across Tatsumaki’s face. She winced, groaning as she turned her head away. The bed was too soft. The covers too heavy. Her hair, judging by the way it fell in her face it was a complete disaster.

She groaned again and stretched out her arm… only to smack into the pillow barricade.

‘Right. I put that there.’

Slowly, Tatsumaki sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she looked around the room. Her limbs were stiff. Her back ached from tension.

She glanced over the edge of the bed, expecting to see Saitama on the floor.

But he wasn’t there.

Her body tensed, eyes scanning the room quickly until a voice came from the corner.

“Nice hair. Did you fight a bear in your sleep or something?”

She groaned and smooth her hair with her hands. “Shut up, I’m so not in the mood dealing with your annoying remark.”

Her voice was low and hoarse. She hadn’t realized she’d even fallen asleep. The last time she checked the clock, it was 5:43 a.m. She now glanced again.

7:30 a.m.

“Two hours of sleep,” she muttered. “Dammit…”

Tatsumaki glancing up to Saitama. Who was already ready in his casual clothes? A dark blue short pants, white shirt and that ridiculous unbuttoned green Hawaiian shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders. He looked like he’d slept a full ten hours and didn’t have a care in the world.

He was tying the drawstring of his shorts as he walked toward the door. “I’m heading to the breakfast buffet,” he said. “See you there, if you want.”

Tatsumaki slammed back her body to the bed. She felt relieved he went out first. No more awkward moments with him. Her nerves couldn’t take it anymore alone time with him.

She stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. Then her gaze drifted sideways to the coffee table.

The macarons were left untouched.

“Tsk…”

.

.

.

The morning sun was already spilling gold across the ocean as Saitama stepped into the resort’s breakfast lounge. A canopy of woven bamboo and pale drapes shaded the open-air space, letting in the sea breeze without the heat. Elegant wooden beams framed the area like a private beach villa, and every table was dressed in crisp white linens with tiny flower arrangements.

He stood near the entrance for a moment, hands in his pockets. The place wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. A few couples murmured quietly at corner tables, and some overly chipper staff were whispering to each other as Saitama walked past them.

He drifted toward the buffet table.

His nose twitched at the smell of fresh bread, sea salt, and something suspiciously sugary.

The buffet stretched in a clean U-shape across polished wooden counters. Small ceramic signs labeled each item in annoyingly swirly cursive. It was all a bit too fancy for his taste.

The center held the heavier items: a small heat-lamp station with golden hash browns, fluffy folded omelets topped with sprigs of herbs, grilled tomatoes, and slices of steak probably wagyu, cut into ridiculous pink cubes.

A chef stood beside a made-to-order egg counter and gave him a too-bright smile with a polite bow.

Saitama picked up a large plate.

“If I’m going to be stuck in this honeymoon hell,” he muttered under his breath, “I might as well take advantage of the free food. Last night’s dinner was a bust. Not making that mistake again.”

First came three hash browns. Then a single omelet. A small bowl of rice, he was still Japanese, after all. A few slices of wagyu. Four pieces of grilled fish. Different types of vegetables. And multiple types of sushi.

He moved to the drink section and poured himself half a glass of pineapple-mint juice. Then, eyes locked on the dessert section, he spotted a single chocolate muffin. It practically sparkled under the soft lighting. He was definitely in the mood for a muffin this morning.

Just as he reached for it, another, much smaller hand brushed his.

Both flinched and pulled back.

Saitama blinked. Standing across from him, also staring at the muffin, was Tatsumaki.

So she was craving chocolate, too.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and looked down at her. “Sorry. You should have it.”

Tatsumaki quickly hid her hands behind her back. “Argh, I don’t want it anymore.”

Before she turned away, she floated just high enough so only he could hear her sharp whisper:

“So you'd rather eat some random muffin than the macaron I bought for you? That’s what I get for trying to be nice, huh?”

Without waiting for a reply, she dropped the macaron box squarely on top of his bald head and zipped away, her breakfast plates trailing obediently behind her like floating ufo.

Saitama watched her go, baffled.

She seated herself at a table near the canopy where she had a clear view of the ocean. With a sigh, she stabbed a hash brown and took a big, aggressive bite.

Saitama sighed too.

He grabbed another smaller plate and picked up the muffin. Then he balanced his loaded tray of food and drink, somehow managing not to spill anything as he walked over to the seating area.

He chose a table two seats away from hers, figuring she needed some space to cool off. After last night’s hot spring incident and now the macaron he figured it was best to give her a little breathing room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her breakfast looked oddly similar to his: rice, wagyu, fish, hash browns , sushi and omelet.

He was oddly amused. Either she had a big appetite or she was just as hungry as he was probably both, considering they hadn’t properly eaten dinner last night.

Saitama stole a few glances at her.

She was puffing her cheeks with food like a hamster, shoveling big bites in with no concern for table manners. t was a sharp contrast to how she'd acted at the wedding or during yesterday's dinner.

It was… kind of funny.

Maybe this was the real her.

Tatsumaki continued eating, her mood still sour. Between the lack of sleep, the lack of dinner, and Saitama being a jackass, she wasn’t in the mood for grace or utensils. Her rice bowl and steak floated to her mouth one bite at a time, guided by her psychic energy. The spoon and fork floated nearby, untouched.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught two resort staff whispering again. This time, their voices were clear.

“Yesterday I heard they had a really good time at the spa,” one said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Which spa? The new hot spring one?”

“Yes, yes, yes… I even heard the thermometer broke.”

They both giggled like teenagers.

Tatsumaki gripped her fork tight enough to bend the metal. ‘The nerve of these eavesdropping pests!’

And right then, Saitama sat down across from her.

She didn’t look up.

She kept chewing, slower now, trying to ignore the faint heat crawling up her neck. Her fork stabbed into the second hash brown with unnecessary force.

“Man, this mini wagyu is so good,” Saitama said casually. “Have you tried it?”

Tatsumaki blinked. ‘Why was he sitting here now? Wasn’t it obvious she didn’t want to talk to him?’

“You want some?” he added, nudging a piece toward her.

“Huh? No thanks. I already got mine,” she said stiffly.

He hummed and took another bite. “Just checking.”

She went back to chewing, jaw tense. But her gaze flicked once, just briefly toward the macaron box still sitting near his tray.

‘He hadn’t thrown it away.’

“You should try the fish too,” Saitama said casually. “The skin’s really crispy.”

“Are you trying to distract me?” she snapped. “Or are you just deaf and didn’t hear those staff gossiping about us?!”

Saitama calmly cut another piece of fish. “Nah, I heard them. Actually, I think they’ve been talking about us since last night. Feels like all the staff are.”

“What??” Tatsumaki turned red.

As if on cue, another pair of resort staff passed by, whispering behind cupped hands.

“Oh, I thought they were fighting,” one said. “It’s weird seeing them sitting separately like that.”

The male staff nodded without lowering his voice. “Yeah, I think they had some disagreement. But it looks like they’re okay now. I mean, look at them. They’re clearly so cute together.”

Tatsumaki sank an inch lower in her seat, both horrified and relieved. ‘So that’s why he joined her’ . To save face. To stop the gossip. Smart move.

‘Thank goodness’ , she thought. She really didn’t want to Stich to find out about this weird report about how they weren’t being “honeymoon enough.” He might extend their stay out of spite.

‘Ugh, no thank you. I’m tired of putting on this act already.’

Saitama took a bite of a roll. “You heard what they said about the spa? They think we broke the thermometer.”

His tone was completely deadpan.

Tatsumaki didn’t respond. She just stabbed a piece of wagyu and chewed like it was still alive.

“Should I go correct them?” he added flatly.

Her eyes bugged out. “What No! What would you even say?! That you tried to boil me alive? Or that we were….” she made exaggerated air quotes, “…having a good time?! Just don’t say anything!”

He shrugged. “I was just gonna tell them the thermometer was already broken when we got there. The water was freezing.”

Tatsumaki let out a long, slow exhale. She closed her eyes and counted to three.

When she opened them, Saitama was poking at his eggs, looking oblivious…. or pretending to be.

The gossiping staff passed by again. One giggled behind her hand as she glanced over.

Tatsumaki glanced at Saitama.

He noticed, and glanced back at her.

She immediately looked away.

“…Maybe the staff gossiping last night is actually a good thing,” she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow.

“They might report to Stich that we’re acting like a real couple. Then he won’t force us into doing any more weird activities together, and we can just… go back to our own lives.”

Saitama paused mid-chew.

He looked at her.

Then quietly said, “Hey. The macaron thing… sorry. I forgot about it. Yesterday had a lot going on, and this morning I just… woke up thinking about breakfast.”

He reached over and placed the box between them.

“But if you want,” he added, “we can share it now.”

Tatsumaki’s eyes flicked to the box.

She perked up slightly, though she tried to hide it.

“…Whatever,” she mumbled.

Saitama smiled faintly. ‘She’d cooled down….at least a little.’

Tatsumaki used her powers to lift and unbox the macarons. She arranged the five pastel-colored treats neatly on a plate: red, blue, yellow, green and pink.

Saitama picked the green one. Tatsumaki took the yellow.

They each took a bite.

Both of their expressions dropped.

Saitama paused, chewing slowly.

‘Was it supposed to taste like this?’ He’d never had a macaron before. Was this just… French sadness?’

Tatsumaki immediately reached for a napkin and spit hers out. “Ugh, it’s bad now. I forgot macarons go stale if you leave them out too long.”

Saitama chuckled.

She blinked at him.

“Man, I thought it was supposed to taste like that,” he said. “Figured I just got unlucky with French food or something.”

She frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything if you knew it tasted bad?”

“It was a gift,” he said simply. “Didn’t feel right complaining. Even if it tasted like regret.”

She smiled softly, against her will. 

Saitama pushed a small plate toward her. On it sat the lone chocolate muffin.

“Here,” he said. “I’m not much of a sweet tooth, and I’ve already got way too much on my plate. Maybe you can help finish this?”

Her face lit up for a second but she masked it quickly by crossing her arms.

“Well, since I don’t want to see you waste another perfectly good bakery item, like you did with my macarons. I’ll gladly take this off your hands.”

She levitated the muffin off his plate and set it down in front of her.

Across from her, Saitama leaned back in his chair and stretched.

“…Hey,” he said after a pause, voice more thoughtful now. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

Her fork paused in midair. Just for a second.

“…Fine,” she answered, curt as ever.

Saitama didn’t press.

He just nodded slowly and went back to eating. But his voice was a little quieter when he added, 

“Cool. Just checking.”

Tatsumaki looked down at her plate. Behind her, the ocean sparkled beneath the morning sun. A salty breeze drifted through, ruffling the tablecloth.

She took a bite of the muffin.

It wasn’t as sweet as she expected.

But somehow… It still made her feel a little better.

.

.

.

Saitama studied her posture. She looked a bit more relaxed than before. He felt a wave of relief, it was rare to see her let her guard down. She was hard to read sometimes, too good at hiding her feelings. 

After what happened last night at the hot spring, he wasn’t sure how to approach her anymore. Was it weird? Awkward? Devastating?

He didn’t dare to push her buttons now. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure how to talk to her. His plan was just to leave her alone. She seemed to prefer it that way, like she was more comfortable when he stayed far away.

.

.

“So you'd rather eat some random muffin than the macaron I bought for you? That’s what I get for trying to be nice, huh?”

.

.

Normally, he wouldn’t care about a comment like that. He was used to her dry, cold attitude. Honestly, he had planned to ignore the macarons anyway.

But he remembered last night awkward as hell, especially with that red lingerie... whatever. Still, she had actually said thank you. She really said it. And she even bought the macarons for him.

It probably didn’t mean anything. She’d probably take them back and eat them herself.

But here she was proving him wrong. She gave them to him again.

Not to mention... They talked. 

No screaming, no throwing things over his head, no name-calling.
It was surprisingly... nice.

It wasn’t the conversation he wanted. But it was still… nice.

.

.

A pair of resort staff passed by, whispering behind cupped hands.

“Oh, are they fighting?,” one said. “It’s weird seeing them sitting separately like that.”

.

.

And just like that, he sat down in front of her.

He had really meant to give her space, she seemed to like that. But he couldn’t help it, not when she looked so uncomfortable with all the staff whispering about them. About her.

It was strange. She annoyed the hell out of him sometimes and yet... she mattered.

It’s probably the hero's intuition in him. 

.

.

.

About halfway through the muffin, Tatsumaki noticed someone hovering just a bit too close to their table.

It was a young staff member clipboard in hand, eyes sparkling with well-meaning malice. She had that forced, customer-service smile that screamed ‘I'm about to ruin your morning’ .

“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Saitama?” the staffer asked sweetly, her pen poised like a threat.

Tatsumaki froze mid-chew. Her eyes slowly turned to slits.

Saitama blinked. “Huh?”

“Congratulations on completing Day One of the Hero Couple Honeymoon Experience!” she beamed, flipping to the next page. “Based on your record-breaking hot spring intensity and joint breakfast arrival, we’ve gone ahead and upgraded your itinerary!”

Tatsumaki opened her mouth but couldn’t form a word.

The girl continued far too cheerfully. “Here’s your schedule for Day Two: Activities! You’ll be entered in the ‘Intimacy-Building Sandcastle Exercise’ challenge at 10:30 AM, followed by the ‘Blindfolded Trust Walk’ through the coastal meditation trail. All so romantic!”

She laid down a garish envelope stamped with glittery hearts.

Tatsumaki looked like she was ready to ignite it on sight.

“Oh!” the staffer chirped. “And here’s your optional Reproductive Wellness Survey . We’re collecting anonymous data for couples in high-performance professions like yours! Totally voluntary. But the couples who return the survey get a complimentary room upgrade and a fertility tea sampler!”

Saitama squinted. “Fertility... what?”

The staffer giggled. “Don’t worry! It’s all natural! Boosts energy, hormonal balance, and heroic stamina~!”

Tatsumaki eye’s twitch…

“We’re not interested,” she said through gritted teeth, reaching for the envelope only to crumple it in her hand like a soda can.

“Oh no, don’t say that!” the staffer laughed, still chipper. “Just remember love is an adventure~!”

Silence dropped over the table again.

Tatsumaki’s eye twitched harder. Saitama reached for another bite of bread like nothing had happened.

Then suddenly, a woman in a blazer and pencil skirt came sprinting toward them, brown bob bouncing, clipboard clutched to her chest.

She skidded to a stop, gasping. “Tatsumaki-san… huff, huff... Tornado of Terror…”

Tatsumaki turned slowly. “What is it? Spit it out already.”

The woman sucked in a breath and gave a perfect, panicked 90-degree bow. 

“I’m sorry to inform you….huff….we have to cut your honeymoon short. There’s a dragon-level threat in both City C and City D, other heroes are occupied with other disasters at City E and City F. The Hero Association needs you. Immediately!”

At the same time, the TV overhead, which had been playing local food ads. Suddenly cut to a breaking news report. Footage rolled: monsters, chaos, evacuations. City Z is now under attack too.

Tatsumaki was on her feet in an instant, ready to launch.

But then she paused. Just for a second.

She turned her head, looking back at Saitama. Not for permission, not exactly. But… was he coming?

He was still sitting there. Calmly chewing on his bread.

He met her gaze and gave a small smile.

“You go handle that,” he said casually. “I know you’ve got it covered. I’ll handle our luggage and checkout.”

Then he stood, walked over to her, and leaned in. His voice dropped just for her, low and quiet.

“Here. The keycard to our home,” he said, slipping it into her hand so smoothly she didn’t even realize he’d done it.  “Come by anytime you want. It’s your house too.”

Before she could respond, she realized she was already gripping the card tightly in her hand.

Without a word, she blasted off, leaving a streak of green psychic light across the sky.

And honestly? She’d never been so relieved to see monsters again.

All those stupid honeymoon activities were going to drive her insane. She was one more “honeymoon-building moment” away from leveling the entire resort. And don’t even mention that woman with the fertility tea.

For once in her life, she was genuinely, blissfully grateful for a dragon-level emergency.

.

.

.

“This stupid honeymoon…. was going to be the death of her.”