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It takes him a little over a year to get used to the fact that he’s no longer the sole occupant of the apartment he’s come to call home (Unless you count Sabo-chan that is). You’d think that he would have gotten over the unfamiliarity of having a roommate after the first few days, but for Saitama it’s not an immediate thing. Sure Genos is there practically 24/7 breathing down his neck, but that’s to be expected; the cyborg lives here now and the 1K apartment wasn’t all that big to begin with. No, it’s not so much the teen’s physical presence that takes getting used to; it’s all the small things, all the little ways Genos makes himself known that prove to be the hardest thing to grow accustomed to. It’s the piling up of these little things that leaves Saitama slightly bewildered.
He first notices it the morning after Genos moves in. It’s early, the sun peeking over the horizon, and he stirs with the urge to pee. Can I put it off? Sleep some more? He groggily wonders, but the pressure in his bladder only increases in response and he sighs mentally, resigned to the fact that he does in fact have to go. He sits up slowly, yawns with his arms outstretched above his head before he rises from his futon and shuffles over to the bathroom.
He shivers at the temperature difference between the hallway and the bathroom and sends a silent prayer of thanks to the gods that he only has to take a piss. He’s in the process of relieving himself, brain occupied with the thought of whether he should just get up and have breakfast or go back to sleep, when he’s startled into a near heart attack by his self-proclaimed disciple.
“SENSEI!”
God! Don't you have any concept of an inside voice?!! He wants to yell, but all that comes out is a strangled noise as he practically jumps out of his own skin.
“Fuck! What the fuck Genos?! Can you not see I’m trying to take a piss here? Why are you even in the bathroom to begin with?” He’s vaguely aware he’s just broken his own 20 words or less limit, but he figures a little slack can be tossed his way seeing as it’s way too early for this kind of shit.
For his credit Genos remains completely straight-faced in light of the fact that he’s just walked in on Saitama with his dick hanging out pissing into the toilet. He wonders if Genos even realizes the social faux pas he’s committing.
“I’m sorry Sensei, but my sensors were alerted by your absence and I came to make sure you were alright.”
He sighs heavily, making to swipe a hand over his face in exasperation before reconsidering and pointing at the cyborg, “Get out of the bathroom Genos.”
“…”
“OUT!” He barks, perhaps more harshly than he intended but it seems to get the point across when Genos backs out of the room and closes the door.
God damnit, this is not what I signed up for when I took the damn kid in.
The remainder of that day proves to be an awkward one.
Thankfully, the rest of the ways in which Genos slowly integrates himself into Saitama’s life are not made up of more bathroom interruptions. They’re subtle, and creep up on him when he least expects it. It’s in the boxes of spare parts and tools that fill what used to be a mostly empty closet, the teddy bear slippers that sit beside his faded red ones in the genkan (“Wearing slippers will lessen the likelihood of holes in your socks and help keep the floors clean Genos.”), the duffel bag he bought to collect any stray bits of his disciple after a fight. It’s in the gentle whir of cooling fans in the middle of the night, the soft humming of some Enka song he’s never heard of, the quiet clatter of a second pair of chopsticks during dinner.
It isn’t until he finds himself standing in the kitchen, sardines searing away on the stove, green tea for two steeping in the teapot on the windowsill, fresh rice in the cooker, feeling utterly content with his lot in life that the realization washes over him.
Before Genos came knocking on his door there had been no one to welcome home with a call of “Okaeri!” for quite a long time. No one to sit across from at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. No one to walk with or talk with during outings to the grocery store. The two of them had settled into a comfortable dynamic and for the life of him he found it hard to imagine the apartment without the other’s presence.
“SENSEI!” Speak of the devil.
“Oi! What is it?” He can see Genos through the kitchen window sitting in his usual seiza position at the coffee table.
“It’s been 3 minutes and 2.3 seconds since you began steeping the tea.”
“Ah, thanks.” A small smile appears for the briefest of moments on the cyborg’s lips and he can feel a small stirring in his stomach at the sight.
Probably just my stomach reminding me to feed it. He thinks, dismissing the sensation as he removes the tea infuser from the pot; it drips, casting ripples through the tea. He pauses, watches as they slowly dissipate and only returns his attention back to dinner when it stops completely, becoming a smooth jade mirror once more.
A few minutes later and the two of them are sat in the living room, the speakers set low as the soft sound of Ozaki Kiyohiko pours out, their dinner set out in wait before them.
“Itadakimasu!”
“Itadakimasu!”
He removes the lid from the pan on the table and can feel the way his mouth waters at the sight of dinner even though he’s the one who cooked it. Chopsticks poised, he leans in to start serving himself, but pauses at the sight of Genos, immobile and stone faced.
“Genos?” He tries but the other still sits stuck in place. Did he have to reboot his system like a computer?
“Genos? You okay?” He tries again and this seems to illicit a response, but not the kind he was seeking.
Thick, black, tears of…oil? Was that oil? Began to leak out from Genos’s eyes as he sat so very still and cried.
“…Genos?”
“Sensei…I am sorry…” The teen starts and then stops, bowing his head to stare down at his lap.
“What are you sorry about? I already told you it was okay that you broke one of the cups this morning, I do it all the time.” And was that worry that’s slowly settling deep within his gut?
“It’s not that Sensei, though I apologize again for my miscalculation at the strength of my grip.” From where he sits at the table he can see the way Genos’s hands curl tightly into fists, “I am merely sorry for my emotional display at something so simple as sardines in oil. It is unbecoming of me.”
The conversation comes to a halt once more, the air tense, and Saitama waits with baited breath for his disciple to continue; watches as metal shoulders quake with silent crying.
Genos’s voice comes out the quietest he’s ever heard, and part of him is wholly surprised at the kid’s capability to whisper, but the larger part of him listens intently to the other’s every word.
“Before the mad cyborg destroyed my home my mother would make it for my birthday. I—” Metal hands come up to rub with ferocity at their owner’s face, but all it does is smear the oil rather than remove the stains or stem the flow.
He frowns as he reaches for the tissue box and plucks a few out. Then he stands and makes his way around the table, stopping before the crying teen and kneeling, one hand gently grasping a metal one.
“S-Sensei?” Genos lowers his hands and stares up at him, golden irises glowing a bit brighter in what is most probably surprise.
“Don’t be sorry for crying. There’s nothing to be sorry for...except maybe the stains on the table.” He says softly as he holds the cyborg's face in one hand and uses the other to gently wipe away the lingering oil on his cheeks. "And don't even think about saying sorry for that or I'll really give you something to cry about, ya?" A metallic click signaling a rapidly shut mouth sounds soon after.
Once he deems Genos's face to be back in order he returns to his previous spot at the table and smiles at the boy whose eyes are still glued to him.
“Let’s eat before the food gets cold and after you can tell me more about your mom okay?” And there’s a tightness in his chest when Genos nods and replies “Yes Sensei!”
And if he makes a list of all the things Genos tells him his mother used to cook and keeps it tucked inside a kitchen drawer for later reference, well no one has to know.
Sotto futari de sodateyou….