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The mountain had become lonely for the monk. He had been there for 3 years now… It seemed like longer. He sat, eyes closed, lost in thought at the steps of the dilapidated shrine. He had found his peace finally after searching for so long. After all this time he still had no urge to reunite himself with society below him in the village. However, he did long for a companion, someone to talk to would have been nice.
A rusting stirred him from his meditation and he smiled. Drawing himself up from the ground, he made his way back into his small abode towards his quarters where he had left his injured little friend.
The small bundle in the bed of blankets began to stir. Saitama chucked and reached out to pet the ball of white and yellow fur, as it stretched its head into the warmth of his palm. He had rescued the small thing almost a week ago, set it’s broken leg, nursed it with a bottle, hoping for the first two days that he hadn’t been too late. But now it was getting stronger, bringing itself back out again towards the land of the living, guided by Saitama’s strong nurturing hands.
Satiama had felt there was something strange about the fox, something in it’s eyes was shamefully intelligent, and it’s aura was stronger than it should have been for such a small creature. He shrugged it off though, nonchalantly accepting the oddities without question. Saitama believed in the flow of the universe that all things would reveal themselves in time. There was no reason to rush to find answers, the mystery would reveal itself if he was meant to know it.
Saitama let the fox crawl tentatively into his lap cuddling into the draped fabric which wound its way across from his left shoulder to his hip exposing half of his chest. Saitama examined the back right leg of the fox, the small splint had held the bone in place while it healed. The fox would be able to walk again, but Saitama doubted the fox would be able to hunt and make it’s way in the forest alone.
“Are you hungry buddy?”
It tilted up it’s small head towards his voice, golden eyes shining at the mention of food.
Saitama chuckled deeply and stood up from the bed, the fox settling himself again in the fabric tucked in at his waist.
The fox and Saitama snacked on nuts and berries, lying in the shade of the trees and the wind licked their faces.
Saitama sighed heavily as he realized it was nearing noon. He had delayed beginning the necessary upkeep of the shrine. The little fox was left lying in the sun, preening himself, as Saitama began cleaning. He swept the front steps, carried the water back from the well, performed other various chores, and then lastly made his way with a ladder to the rooftop in an attempt to repair a few leaks with new shingles. The sun beat down on him as beads of sweat began to glisten on his back and face. His bald head shined with the reflection of the rays. He drove one nail after the other into the roof, the blows from his small mallet echoing through the treeline. As he neared the end of his task he turned to grab the last wooden shingle, his foot slipping and catching on the edge of his robe, and then he was falling.
The roof wasn’t very high, after all it was an older shrine and only one story, but still a fall from that height and him being alone at the top of the mountain would have made almost any major injury he incurred a sure matter of life and death. Saitama realized this as he slid off the edge his fingers not able to grasp as he tumbled down towards the earth.
But instead of hard ground he met a pair of warm arms, and then there was a groan as the arms failed and Saitama found himself in the dirt lying in a tangle of arms and legs with a blonde haired man.
And the man, Saitama noticed all too quickly, was completely naked…
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“Ow, ow, ow!”
Genos felt the sharp pain in his leg again. Everything but the pain was still a little hazy. Transforming, changing his shape, whatever it was called, it wasn’t an immediate process; and he had rushed it to save the man falling off the roof.
The same man that he could feel on top of him now.
“Hey, are you ok?”
The voice of the young Monk he had come to know so well rang through the fog of his mind. He opened his eyes very cautiously, trying to give them a chance to adjust fully. At first the world around him was out of focus like everything has covered in short, bristly fur. Genos blinked hard, tiny tears escaping from the corners of his eyes. Slowly the bald head of the monk became clear-his chocolate brown eyes, his thin, almost manicured looking eyebrows furrowed in concern. A tinge of pink coloring his slightly tanned cheeks. A stray drop of sweat slipping its way down that rigid jaw line. Oh, how Genos wished to be that sweat drop, if only to touch that jaw line for a moment…
Then Genos noticed his own state. He groaned at the sight of the monk bent over his own pale, naked form. He felt his body temperature rising on its’ own, secretly praying to all the gods that the monk had not looked down.
“Y-yes! Um, sorry! I tried to catch you, but I wasn’t fast enough...“ He looked up bashfully at the monk, whose face just twisted more in confusion. Gods, his face looked even cuter through these eyes.
“Erm, that’s ok, I guess?” the monk rubbed the back of his head in a way that made Genos’ heart beat just a little faster. “Where did you come from, though? And, um, why are you…” he paused, Genos’ breath pausing with him. “What’s with the ears?”
“You don’t recognize me?” Genos knew there was no way he could know, but all the same, a small part of his heart hurt. “Look into my eyes… think carefully.”
The young monk concentrated on Genos’ eyes like Genos had observed him do several times in meditation. That intense look that bore into the soul, like he was breaking down the barriers of the universe with a look.
And then, a look of realization broke through the intensity. His features at once became soft, calm, and all-knowing. Like the face of one of the gods.
“F-Fox?!” The monk sat back a bit. “You’re the fox I saved? But, that’s not possible…”
“It is, and I am” Something about this man made Genos feel shy. Well, that and the fact that he was still completely naked and there was a very attractive man on top of him.
The young monk closed his eyes to think.
Genos sighed. It was going to be a long day of questions if he didn’t just tell him everything now.
“I’m a messenger spirit to the fox God Inari. I watch over this shrine and bring the offerings and wishes of the people to him. Thank you, by the way, for maintaining this place.” The monk had opened his eyes again when Genos began speaking, and Genos noticed the slight shade of pink return to his sharp cheekbones.
“Anyway, I was playing around with some Tengu spirit from up the mountain a few weeks back. He occasionally tries to encroach on my territory, but I always push him back. It’s an old song and dance that’s been going on for centuries now. I wish he’d just give it up, but I guess it’s the will of his God…”
Genos propped himself up on his elbows and cleared his throat. “Ahem, so yeah, that’s when I got hurt. Stupid crow had gotten faster since last time, and I didn’t take him seriously enough. Luckily for me, though, you found me! I heard you coming and transformed into my physical fox form. I figured that would be less shocking than well…” He looked down at his current state. “Than finding me like this.”
“Hm, I guess it can’t be helped then.”
Genos stared in shock at the shrugging monk. He seriously believed everything? Just like that?
“Well, I guess we should find you some clothes.”
His tone was nonchalant, like Genos had just been talking about the weather and not about spirits and transformations. All he could do was nod dumbfounded in response.
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“Here, how about this?”
The young monk, named Saitama Genos had found out, held forward the small, red bib* completely straight faced, without a hint of humor in his voice. He couldn’t be serious.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Fine, fine.” He said in the same tone, but Genos noticed the corners of his mouth rising slightly as he turned back to the box of clothes.
“Ok, well, all I really have in your size are these. I hope they aren’t too dusty.”
Saitama held forward a set of beautiful white and black robes, no doubt at one time belonging to the head priest of the shrine for special ceremonies. They were elegant in their simplicity, expertly sewn with enough tiny details to make them special. Even as the spirit of this shrine, Genos felt unworthy to wear them.
“A-Are you sure they won’t make me stand out? What if someone comes to visit the shrine, won’t they ask questions?”
“I think the fox ears, tail, and demon black color in the whites of your eyes might raise more questions than some old robes.”
Genos blushed as the monk pushed the robes into his hands. He reached up to touch the fox ears that matched his blonde hair. Well, it had been a rushed transformation after all.
“Thank you, Saitama.”
Genos rushed off around the corner to change before the monk could reply, his heart pounding in his chest.
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“So, uh, do you eat?”
They were sitting on the porch of the housing part of the shrine, a beautiful sea of the reds and golds of the Autumn leaves mixed with the colors of the sunset swaying and swirling below them as a soft breeze danced by. The sound of it was like a thousand tiny waves crashing in Genos’ ears, a sound so soothing he almost didn’t hear the question.
“Mmmm, yeah…”
“Oh. Ok.”
There was a comfortable silence between them as another slight breeze picked up. Genos closed his eyes and breathed in, exhaling along with the wind.
“So, what do you want for dinner, then?”
Genos’ eyes flew open as he faced the monk.
“Please, allow me to prepare dinner for you! It’s the least I can do after you saved my life, and I all but failed to save you from falling off the roof…”
The other man looked away, rubbing the back of his head. The light of the sunset reflected off of his bald head, turning his skin brilliant colors. For a moment, Genos could have sworn he was looking at a God.
“Well, if you insist. Let me show you where the kitchen is…”
Genos nodded and stood up, not bothering to mention this was his shrine and he already knew where everything was.
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“Fried Tofu?”
The monk looked down at the plate in front of him, a curious eyebrow raised.
“Is that not ok? I love fried Tofu**!” Genos flashed the monk his best smile.
Saitama chuckled. “No, I guess I should have known this is what you would make.” He picked up his chopsticks and gratefully dug into the light fare.
“Wow, this is really good!” The monk dug into the dish with more ferocity, like a wolf who had caught its first kill that week.
“I’m glad you like it, Saitama.” ‘I put all my heart into it.’ He wanted to say, but sufficed with another smile.
When the men had finished their meal, Saitama sat back and patted his full belly.
“That was the best meal I’ve had in years, Genos. Thank you.”
Unbidden, the blood rushed to Genos’ face. He quickly set about picking up the dishes instead of stammering out a response.
“No, Genos, you made dinner, let me help!” Saitama protested, reaching forward toward his dishes. Genos lurched forward to grab them, forgetting about and leaning heavily on his hurt leg. The pain came like a lightning bolt through his leg, the shock of it tripping him.
The next moment, he was being held in strong, sturdy, well muscled arms.
“Hey, take it easy, you’re still hurt.” Saitama said softly, looking down with gentle eyes at Genos.
Genos forgot to breathe.
“S-Sorry, Saitama.”
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Genos studied Saitama’s sleeping face in the early morning light.
He knew he only had a few moments before Saitama awoke with the sun, so he didn’t want to waste a second. He memorized each line of his face, the shape of his nose, the way his eyelashes twitched a little bit in his sleep.
He leaned over and lightly touched his lips to the bald man’s forehead.
Afraid to wake the sleeping monk with the pounding of his heart, he went to go make tea in the kitchen.
No more than ten minutes later, Saitama joined him for morning tea out on the porch.
“The air will be turning colder, soon…” The monk said, breathing in the steam coming off the top of his cup.
“Mmmmm…” Genos hummed in reply, taking a sip from his tea. He barely registered the words, his mind far away as he stared out to the trees below.
“So… how long are you going to be like this?”
Genos snapped out of his trance at the bluntness of the question.
“Ah, what I mean is, you’re not just going to disappear on me one day, or turn back into a fox, are you?”
Genos studied the face of the young monk, but it was only covered in concern.
“Why do you ask?”
The monk rubbed the back of his neck and looked off into the sea of trees. “Just curious, is all.”
Genos couldn’t help but smile to himself. “Well, I suppose even once my strength is regained I will have no real reason to hide myself from you anymore…”
He thought he saw the monk sigh in relief. It was probably just his imagination.
“Oh, ok then.” He took a sip of his tea. Genos continued to study him through the steam from his cup, eyes narrowed. “Just so you know, you’re not being a burden or anything.”
It was like Saitama could read his mind.
“What made you say that suddenly?” Genos couldn’t help but avert his eyes.
“I just felt it needed to be said.”
Off in the distance, a singing bird filled the comfortable silence. Saitama took another sip of tea.
“Regardless, I still owe you my life…” He lifted a knee and rested his head on it.
“I thought that’s what dinner was for last night.”
Genos tilted his head to look at the monk, who was looking back at him.
“A mere dinner is no payment for my life.”
Genos thought he saw Saitama blush.
“What did you have in mind then?”
Genos considered it for a moment, taking a sip of tea.
“I suppose I’ll have to grant you one request. Anything you want of me, please ask me. If I think it’s big enough, that will pay the debt.”
“What if I can’t think of something?”
The monk furrowed his brow. Genos smiled a mischievous smile, remembering the words that Inari had told him long ago.
“Everyone has something they desire. Even a monk.”
Genos was sure he saw Saitama blush this time as he turned away, downing the rest of his tea.
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A cool breeze brushed across Genos’ flush face.
“Ah, I love drinking sake outside on cool Autumn nights like this…”
Saitama, who was chastely sipping on a cup of tea, turned to him, eyebrows wrinkling his perfect bald head.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
“Is nineteen centuries old enough?” Genos took another sip of sake, glancing sideways at the young monk who about spit up his tea.
“Nineteen centuries?”
“Yeah, well, I am a spirit after all.”
“Oh, I guess you’re right…”
The two men sat in silence, Genos playfully swishing his tail.
“I keep forgetting, I guess. It feels like you’ve always been here…” Saitama looked out into the darkness, taking a sip of tea.
“Well, I kind of have been.”
“Oh, right.”
More tail swishing, accompanied by much neck rubbing by Saitama.
Genos looked down at his empty sake cup and pouted. He reached for the bottle, but discovered it was empty.
“I’m out of sake…” He pouted at Saitama.
“Oh, there’s more inside.”
“You won’t go and get it for me?” Genos put on his best puppy-dog eyes.
Saitama’s widened for a second, and then he chuckled.
“You might be nineteen centuries old, but you look nineteen to me. I’m not going to stop you from drinking, but you gotta get it yourself.”
“Fiiiiiine…” Genos whined as he got up. He wasn’t really drunk at all, but he enjoyed watching the blush dance across Saitama’s face thinking he was.
As he got up, he stumbled a bit. Ok, maybe he was a little drunk.
A sudden pain shot through his leg. Oh no, not again…
Genos stumbled forward right into Saitama, pushing him over so Genos was on his hands and knees over Saitama.
“H-hey! Careful there!” Genos could feel the heat emanating off of the young monk’s face.
“Sorry, Saitama. My leg…”
“I-it’s ok. Just be careful…” Saitama looked away.
Somewhere, in the fog of Genos’ mind, an idea came through. And he was too drunk to stop it from coming out.
“Have you thought anymore about your desire?”
Genos knew the look he gave Saitama must have been pretty effective, because even looking out of the corner of his eye at Genos, the monk’s face grew a shade darker.
“Don’t ask me things like that when we’re like… this.”
“Why?” Genos breathed the question, pushing his face closer to Saitama’s.
“Ok, up you go.” Saitama sat up, gathering up Genos in his arms as he did, so the fox spirit was in his lap.
A silence hung in the air for a moment. Another breeze picked up and blew it, and Genos huddled into Saitama’s half bare chest.
“I miss laying in your lap…”
Saitama looked away again. Genos smiled to himself.
“Did I ever tell you how I found you?”
Genos shook his head. He hadn’t, not even when Genos had been a fox.
“Well, as you may have noticed, I rarely go into the mountains beyond our complex. I’m always so busy with maintaining the shrine, there’s really never a reason to leave the grounds…” He paused for a second. “Well, anyway, that day it felt like something was pulling me to the mountains, pulling me to you.”
Genos felt his face go flush. He was glad his face was still buried in Saitama’s chest.
“Maybe it was Inari guiding you to me…”
“Yeah, maybe…”
Genos looked up at Saitama, who was staring out into the darkness.
“Or maybe it was Inari granting my wish.”
The young monk looked down into Genos’ strange, glowing yellow eyes with his own chocolate brown ones. Genos became unaware of anything other than those eyes and his words.
“To be honest, before you came along, my life was really… empty…”
“Saitama…”
“And then this morning, when I woke up and you weren’t beside me, I felt that emptiness return for the first time in weeks. It felt like I had woken up from a dream, and now I was alone in a sad reality again…”
Saitama wrapped his large, strong arms around Genos. Genos forgot the world outside of them existed.
“And then I walked outside. And there you were. And I realized, the thing I want more than anything…”
Genos reach up and touched Saitama’s cheek, tracing the line of his jaw.
“What is it you desire, Saitama?”
Saitama leaned down and responded with a kiss, soft, warm, and tasting of tea. Deep down in Genos’ belly, a fire raged.
“I want you… to stay here… with me… forever.”
Genos could sense a hint of sadness in Saitama’s eyes as he said it. He wanted to kiss all that sadness away.
“Request granted.”
Genos wrapped his arms around Saitama’s well rubbed neck, sealing the contract with a kiss.