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When Saitama saw the expression of utter horror on Genos’ face when the deer was shot, he knew something had changed. The way his eyes curiously looked at the animal on the floor, when he asked for a way to wake it up and when Saitama tried to explain what happened it was too late. For the first time since his arrival to earth, he looked truly depressed and without a single drop of energy to waste.
So he made his way into the junkyard in the middle of the night, it had been a while since Genos had been sitting on top of that old truck without saying or doing anything; Saitama’s worry was big enough now after the cyborg isolated himself an hour ago while he talked about the garbage that Sonic guy would call 'art'. Not really an interesting conversation but it had been enough to pass the time.
In the distance he could spot Genos sitting crosslegged on the trucks hood, he noticed his metal arms shined with the moon’s light as if they were made of diamonds, almost blinding. Saitama’s steps became slow and careful while he climbed up the mountain of scrap where Genos sat on. The robot may be extraterrestrial —or so he was told, but to him Genos looked pretty human-like, maybe he was created by humans and then sent to space? He did say he was a cyborg…
“Yo’, Genos” he said seconds before reaching the top. Genos turned his head and gave him a small nod, but no words escaped his mouth. “You okay?” asked Saitama, even if he already knew the reason of his current emotional state.
“The deer” he whispered in his strange digital voice. “It died”.
“Yeah,” Saitama continued, his eyes looking into the sky full of stars above them. “ There’s not much we can do about it , dude.”
Genos looked down with saddened eyes. “I liked it. Now it is gone forever”.
Saitama looked at him with a smile full of sympathy. Genos was a weird space-guy. “It’s not your fault, you know?” He began, his hands paying with the hem of his shirt. “Things die, it’s part of life”
Genos locked his eyes with Saitama’s and they both kept a comfortable silence for a couple of seconds; the cyborg looked as if he wanted more than that answer when he stared silently at him, so Saitama sighed and clenched his fists before he talked once again.
“It’s bad to kill,” and Genos nodded, a small pause before Saitama continued “–but it’s not bad to die.”
At this Genos perked up, tilting his head to the side. He then moved his eyes around the place, concern growing rapidly in his features. “You… will die?”
The question was simple, but when it came from Genos maybe it wasn’t that easy to swallow. “Well, yeah, of course I will. Someday” He tried to sound casual, but Genos' expression turned to fear and his hands quickly to Saitama's shoulder.
“Like the deer?” asked Genos with authentic preoccupation, at which Saitama laughed and shook his head.
“No, no, I mean… I’ll get old, you get me?” He gestured to himself. “I’ll get wrinkles all over and my back will start to hurt. Stuff like that”
Genos looked at his hands, turning them around to contemplate them. His golden eyes illuminated the metal faintly, before they turned again to look at him. “Can I die?”
Saitama’s hands rested on his knees and his brow furrowed. “I don’t know”
He really didn’t, now that he thought back Genos never talked about the place he came from or what was he supposed to be; He was made of metal and even if he showed to be a smart boy, when he first found him he barely remembered his name and some words to talk. In their first meeting Saitama saw him as a scary, big machine that would kill him… but now, Genos was just like a kid; curious, playful and full of emotions. Just like any other person.
“You’re made of metal…” he began, suddenly looking at him with a smile. “But you have feelings”
Genos eyebrows rose. “Feel?” he asked himself in a small whisper, then putting a hand in his chest and traveling along his metal frame. “But my body is not human.”
“I know!” Saitama replied with rare excitement. “But if you feel that means you think about stuff, like me, or the deer or… whatever! you get it, right?” He continued.
Even if Genos had a puzzled expression on his face, he nodded. Saitama then took his heavy, robotic hand and led it to his chest, close to where an odd blue glow originated.
“That means you have a soul, Genos” He murmured, as if someone could hear them… “And souls don’t die.” Saitama gestured to the sky where the stars covered them with their beauty. “The soul is something inside all good things, that goes on forever and ever” he told him, and the cyborg admired the sky like it was the very first time, his eyes looked in wonder and reflected the beautiful stars that unusually showed this way.
It looked like Genos had realized something amazing, something so big his mind couldn’t even comprehend it. Saitama asked himself if from wherever Genos came from, they told them about life and the reason of his existence. Cyborgs weren’t supposed to be half-humans or something? He had never asked Genos about it because he thought it was a delicate topic for him. What if he was told he was a mere machine? An object? A thing?
They didn’t say anything more after that, a vast silence reigned and it was only listened the sound of the wind and Genos’ internal machinery as it worked. He was so complex and strange, full of wires and all that stuff Saitama didn’t even understand, he didn’t think he needed, though, Genos had reassured him that he could repair himself on his own.
But seriously, Saitama was not fascinated by Genos’ body or how it worked. More like the way his face would smile, his lips, his cheeks, his eyes, even how his brows expressed so much, even more than Saitama himself. Sometimes when he stared long enough he could almost feel the humanity inside him.
He saw Genos close his eyes with his so human-like face and its expression of human-like happiness. His mouth opened and a small sigh escaped his tiny mouth as if he had been freed of an imaginary weight. And then Saitama understood.
His robotic voice repeated again: “Souls don’t die”
Genos had remembered. What he needed all along, was to be told—to be reminded, that deep inside he was more than just a big, scary, iron cyborg. That even if he couldn’t feel the beat of a heart when he was happy, or the rise of his chest when he breathed, or the tears roll down his face when he felt sad; he was a perfectly valid human being.
Souls don’t die after all.