Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re far too strong… Saitama…”

The strongest man walked away from his fallen opponent, a shadow cast upon his face.

Lord Boros was, without a doubt, the strongest foe he had ever faced. The small thrill the hero felt once the alien stood from his first punch was undeniable. The surprise in the bald man’s eyes as his foe sent him flying with a barrage that surpassed living flesh — it was novel. Almost exhilarating.

For a few moments, the strongest man thought that a real fight was nearly at hand. He’d hoped beyond hope that this self-proclaimed ‘Denominator of the Universe’ would light a fire in his chest again. He prayed to whatever god was listening that he would feel something then. After all, wasn’t the alien in the same boat as he was? Boros was too strong, just like him. The alien said so himself.

Saitama’s face was unreadable as they clashed. Even though Boros was taking blows unlike all the other enemies he faced, even though the alien was pushing him back, there was a dark, quiet thought in the back of the hero’s mind that gnawed at him. Every punch Saitama took from the mighty alien, every blast of energy he withstood — the same dark thought slowly ate away at him. He tried to ignore it, hoping desperately that the fight would set his soul ablaze too and not just his enemy’s. But despite it all… he was unharmed. Not a single scratch was inflicted upon him. Once more, the tendrils of despair were wrapping around his heart — the thought of that dreadful stagnation gnawing at his mind all but consumed Saitama. That is, until… 

“COLLAPSING STAR, ROARING CANNON!”

That was the moment of truth. The strongest attack from the being that brought the universe to its knees. It was the hero’s last hope. If he felt nothing, then it would be over.

Saitama steeled himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, the strongest man’s fist trembled. Would this make him feel again? Was this the fight he had waited years for?

There was only one way to know.

“In that case, I’m using my own final move. Killer Move, Serious Series: 

“Serious Punch.”

The hero — the villain — the world — held its breath.

* * *

The man looked numbly at his still-smoking fist, completely unharmed.

‘I should just give up looking for a good fight.’

A bitter taste tainted Saitama’s mouth as he had that thought. After all, such dark thoughts were unwelcome in his already-dour life. But he had to face the truth: this hero business, his lifestyle, his hobbies — they weren’t fun anymore.

Admittedly, ever since Genos had arrived and he’d met some heroes from the Association, his days had become more lively. Not a couple of hours went by that Saitama didn’t find himself smiling at some small joke he’d made to himself or smirking at the antics of his apprentice. At the same time, though, it always seemed to remind him of how small he felt.

Genos was an S-Class hero. In just a few weeks’ time, he had risen to the elite of the Hero Association and was met with adoration and praise. He was fiercely honor-bound and strong, and had a firm — albeit overzealous — idea of justice. The kid was honestly incredible.

And that fact made Saitama’s qualms with Genos hard to pin down. It wasn’t like the bald hero was jealous of him — he fully believed that Genos was well-deserving of his rank, and on that belief he would never change his mind. What the blond cyborg had made him realize, however, was that aside from strength, Saitama had basically nothing to show for. He couldn’t teach his apprentice any fancy technique or killer move, and he couldn’t explain his own strength to the kid, either. What use was a full-body workout to a cyborg, after all?

Their whole master-apprentice relationship was based on half-assed teachings and an unhealthy overanalysis of Saitama’s every word and action. In all honesty, he felt like he was cheating Genos. By accepting his rent money and spouting nonsense that somehow seemed to strike a chord with the kid in return, he was no better than an internet scammer. There was basically nothing of merit he could actually give to the cyborg.

Sure, Saitama was strong. Of course he was. He didn’t know why, but that didn’t change the fact. For all the strength he had, for all the monsters he could defeat, for all the people he saved — did he really want it anymore?

The hero frowned. Deep down, he knew that he wouldn’t have it any other way. Saitama was well aware that this strength would let him keep the world safe, and that was something he would be damned if he wasn’t thankful for.

‘ But this? It’s…’

The smoking fist looked back at him mockingly.

There were no words. Saitama had just battled the strongest being in the cosmos. The being who was so strong that he had fallen into despair, just like the bald hero himself. The two were kin, in a weird sort of way. And Saitama knew they both felt it. Was there any fault in expecting something exhilarating, something that would reignite the spark of passion in them both?

Some higher beings seemed to think so. Because instead of a heart-pounding, high-stakes battle that would have connected the hearts of the two fighters in a way that nothing else could, something else happened.

One of them utterly destroyed the other. One of them died realizing how pathetic his final battle was, and the other lived knowing he could never have a real fight anymore. Hide it as he might — fool himself that the battle was more hard-fought than it really was — the truth came out in those final words:

‘You’re far too strong.’

It was so sad it was almost funny.

The bald man sighed. It really wasn’t like him to feel bad for himself. He should honestly have expected as much beforehand, especially after he’d discovered a normal punch was all it took to rip an arm off the alien conqueror.

Either way, the job was finished. One punch or not, he’d probably done the world a little good by bringing the destructive alien to justice. It would probably just take a while to get over. Walking dully over to the hole on the ship he made during the scuffle with Boros, Saitama realized that everything was slowly sinking. The room below him was in shadow, too.

Last he checked, there was a huge glowing orb streaming light down there. At least, that’s what his admittedly shoddy memory told him. Did that have anything to do with anything?

Maybe. Maybe not. What Saitama knew for sure was that there were no longer any lights coming from inside the ship. He very much disliked the idea of trying to find his way around the now pitch-black throne room. Looking around for another way out of the sinking ship, he realized with a small “Ah!” that he could just wait for it to crash and jump down the edge. That would probably not be for another few minutes, meaning he had all the time in the world to walk over to the side of the ship and gaze the rubble of the city below.

So he did just that.

Destroyed as it was, seeing A City from such a height was still quite a sight. The rubble from broken glass glittered like waves in the ocean, and distant buildings shimmered in the noontime light. The world spread below him as far as he could see — cloudless too — and it was kind of beautiful. In a sad sort of way. Maybe he would have been able to appreciate it if he hadn’t seen the bustle of the lively city earlier on in the day.

The ship rumbled violently. The sound of crashing debris filled the baldy’s ears.

“Oh, crap.”

Distracted by the view, Saitama almost forgot that he had another matter to attend to.

In all honesty, he would have preferred not to have any business with said matter, since… Well, it wasn’t really a ‘matter,’ per se. But a person. One that was rather unpleasant. And rude. And generally got on his nerves. And—

Saitama shook his head.

Someone needed him to be there for them. Doubtful as he was about everything, he was still a hero.

The green-haired girl laid on her back, breathing shallowly, as Saitama made his way over to her. Kneeling down slowly, the bald hero placed his arms underneath her. He stood up with care.

“The ship’s about to crash,” Saitama said quietly. “Hold on.”

The esper opened her eyes and looked at him weakly, not saying a word. Saitama took one last look at the city as the ship fell to the ground.

‘I wonder what I’ll have for dinner tonight.’

Chapter Text

Half an Hour Prior

“Hey, C-Class losers—!” The voice of a certain S-Class esper echoed across the ruins of City A, aiming the insult at the top-ranking heroes participating in the battle. What followed was silence. Her attitude was notorious throughout the Hero Association, and many of the heroes tried their best to ignore her. Only one of the S-Class decided to voice his thoughts — a young, pompadoured delinquent that could almost feel veins popping in his head.

“We’re Class S, goddamn it!” Metal Bat shouted back at Tatsumaki, waving his fist at her.

The esper scoffed.

“Tell that to me once that disgusting flesh monster is dead, Mental Bat!” she spat. “Tch! Anyway! I took care of the cannons, so you losers stay here while I figure out a way to sink this ship, got it? Don’t try following me!”

The delinquent swore he’d just popped something in his temple — the little esper seemed to have literally struck a nerve. 

“Why don’t you just help us deal with this regenerating freak so we can figure out a way inside together?!” he called after her.

“Didn’t you say you were S-Class? Go do it yourselves!”

“Wha—!”

If Metal Bat didn’t know his weapon was indestructible, he would’ve tried smashing it on the ground. The green-haired esper was right, though. It would save them more time to split up, and it would be smart to send their strongest force to the ship as soon as possible. It was just in the way Tatsumaki said it — so self-assured and cocky — that made the delinquent’s blood boil. If she so much as whispered another insult at him again, he would personally find a way to break his bat into the esper’s smug little face.

Thankfully, before things could escalate, a tired old martial artist decided to intervene. Bang put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder to calm him down. 

“Leave her be,” the old man said patiently. “We have more pressing matters at hand.”

Metal Bat looked away from the annoying green-haired figure and nodded slowly ( ‘remember your anger management lessons, Bad’ ), bringing his attention back to the regenerating monster that he didn’t bother remembering the name of. Bang smiled in satisfaction, not knowing that the delinquent was actually picturing  a certain green-haired esper’s face on each of the creature’s heads. Metal Bat smirked, readying his trusty bat for the stress-relieving beating of a lifetime. 

“Let’s destroy this son of a—”

* * *

If Tatsumaki’s day hadn’t been horrible enough — what with her two hour wait in the Association meeting room, the city being destroyed, and her fellow ‘S-Class’ teammates proving to be utterly incompetent in the following chaos — it had just gotten worse. To her disbelief, Tatsumaki found that the enemy ship was practically demolished already!

No matter which hallway the girl took, which flight of stairs she flew up, or which door she blew down, there were no living enemies to be seen. Piles upon piles of torso-less bodies oozing green, alien blood were the only things she encountered.

And it pissed her the hell off.

Who in the world had the audacity to come aboard this ship and take care of the enemies before her?! Metal Bat? That rookie cyborg?? King??? The green-haired esper had no clue, but once she found out, she would destroy them.

Steeped in her own rage, the psychic was nearly caught off-guard by a red-skinned alien lizard wielding a sword and hammer in either hand. It cried out triumphantly as it jumped in from a hidden door to her left.

“GRAHHH! I AM ABURARUBA, THE SECRET FIFTH IN-COMMAND OF THIS SHIP!!! ARE YOU THE ENEM—AAAAAGHHGHGHHGBAGAHGB—!!!!”

The symmetrically-named alien that probably had awesome powers to show off was torn asunder by the esper. She sighed in annoyance. Was anything gonna happen today that didn’t end up driving her crazy?! There was absolutely no time for this!

Tatsumaki took deep breaths to calm herself down. If she was riled up, she wouldn’t be able to use her powers with pinpoint accuracy, which is what the situation called for at the moment. There wasn’t anything her psychic senses couldn’t find — be it the boss of the lousy maze-like ship, or the idiot that boarded the place before she did. As long as it was moving, she would be able to sense it, clear as day. She sent her powers out in waves, hoping to find the insolent worm trying to beat her to the punch more than anything else.

Tatsumaki noted that the walls seemed to slightly dampen her ability to sense presences, but it wasn’t anything a few stronger waves of psychic energy couldn’t overcome. Without hesitation, she upped her psychic output and focused on where the energy seemed highest.

That was when she felt it.

Her powers, which could not sense anything of significance beforehand, were now sending danger signals from where the red lizard monster appeared from. Something sinister was on this ship; something eerily strong. Not just that, there was another energy, too. It was much weaker, but it was a problem nonetheless. A moderately powerful enemy psychic appeared to be on-board as well. She flew off, already having completely forgotten the mighty Aburaruba and his secret sword/hammer techniques.

Tatsumaki had to give it to her kill-stealing opponent — he was quite efficient.

Whoever it was that killed all those enemies, it seemed that they had ended each fight in one massive blow. That narrowed the suspects down to Puri-Puri Prisoner, Tank-Top Master, Metal Bat, Watchdog Man, Darkshine, King and Silverfang.

It didn’t really narrow it down that much, actually. The psychic tsked.

If a physical fighter like that was pitted against a psychic — especially of the caliber of the one she sensed — it would likely end badly for them. Tatsumaki couldn’t sense the energy of the idiot that had been killing all the aliens before she did, but that was probably because he wasn’t fighting at the moment.

To the esper, that was all the more reason to settle the matter. She’d finish these two before her ‘rival’ could even try.

The green-haired girl flew into the hidden passage at full speed, heading towards the presence she knew she could extinguish in one attack. She knew those unidentified enemies needed to be dispatched on the ship quickly, because if they showed up and fought alongside the regenerating monster down below, there would almost certainly be casualties among the S-Class.

After a few minutes of flight along the winding passageways, Tatsumaki found that the mysterious psychic’s energy had skyrocketed, then disappeared. She clicked her tongue. No doubt it was the one who’d left the heaps of corpses a while ago. How a fist-fighter like that had beaten a psychic was beyond her.

Quickly, the esper changed direction, heading towards the other entity she sensed. The energy emanating from it sent a small chill down her spine. She knew she would be able to handle it — there was no monster she couldn’t take down, after all — but there was something… off about it. The energy she sensed seemed not to be the full extent of the creature’s power. It was being restrained somehow. Maybe it was a powerful creature that the aliens were keeping locked up as a last resort.

If a monster like that was set loose in the city below, then there would really be problems.

* * *

“It seems a suitable appetizer has been brought to me.”

An alien cyclops grinned madly as the throne room’s huge double-doors were thrown open, wrapped in a green glow.

Boros knew the end was nearly at hand, and quite frankly, the wait had become almost unbearable. The man he had seen in the ship’s surveillance system was undoubtedly the man of prophecy — after all, he had dispatched Groribas, one of his strongest men, instantly! His crew of battle-hardened pirates was decimated, and it seemed Geryuganshoop had been felled by him too, not many moments ago.

The alien’s eye gleamed and his chest thrummed with quiet expectation. Although two of his commanders had just been defeated, they had the honor of being killed by the man who was his match. And soon it would be his turn to face him!

In spite of his growing excitement, the alien reminded himself to be steady. Although the prospect of battle was certainly thrilling, and he revelled in the emotions the bald earthling had brought about in him, the one-eyed alien knew misplaced excitement could lead to mistakes.

It was just his luck that there was now a way to release it — and it came in the form of a small esper girl. On the surface, it seemed that she was merely a runt — some underdeveloped creature from the planet that was likely still developing into adulthood. However, the overwhelming energy exuding from the girl spoke otherwise. The Dominator of the Universe thought he had already seen the limits of psychic powers in the planet of his underling, Geryuganshoop. After all, almost a third of his troops were defeated before he was able to grind the tentacle-ridden planet into its place. Among those in the planet’s population, he had come across a particularly powerful psychic in his tentacled servant — whom he’d soundly defeated and pushed to join his band in exchange for his life.

The difference between Geryuganshoop and this small psychic was like night and day. Unlike his faithful attendant, who had been powerful due to his supreme control over the psychic energy he wielded, the small native of Earth felt more like a natural disaster. Her energy swirled around in green hues like the great storms of a gas giant, and it was unlike anything he’d seen before!

The alien could feel his core pulsing excitedly. Although he knew he was stronger, he also knew the coming fight would be far from easy.

“Before we battle, let us exchange names,” the cyclops said, walking down the grand staircase in front of him. “I am Boros, leader of the pirate band known as Dark Matter, and the Dominator of the Universe.”

“I don’t care.”

A wave of psychic energy from the esper’s hands sent the alien flying into one of the throne room’s pillars with a loud BOOM! , sending a large cloud of dust in the air. The explosion echoed around the hall and faded softly to either side.

As the dust settled, Tatsumaki found Boros wedged shallowly into the pillar. He seemed to be incapacitated.

Tatsumaki frowned, bringing her arms down. There was no way that this alien had been knocked out from just that — the energy she sensed before was no joke. Not even a little.

She raised her guard, ready for any sign of movement.

Moments later, the one-eyed cyclops freed itself from the alien stone. He dropped onto the ground with a dull thunk , confirming the esper’s suspicions. Boros had survived, but the shadow over his face gave Tatsumaki indication of the damage he sustained. The esper smirked. Apparently she didn’t have anything to worry about, after all. Her psychic wave would have torn apart anything weaker than the strongest of Demon-Level threats and severely damaged anything tougher than that. Since the alien was still standing, then Tatsumaki had no doubt it was a Dragon level threat. Of course, it didn’t matter to Tatsumaki if this ‘Boros’ fellow was a Demon or a Dragon, because the outcome would just be the same.

“What a worthless alien,” the esper muttered. For the commander of a ship that decimated A City, he was surprisingly weak.

“HAHAHAHA!”

Tatsumaki flinched as booming laughter echoed around the room. The shadow over her enemy’s face had disappeared — his slouched posture was gone, too. There was no indication that he had been fazed at all.

“What a powerful psychic attack! If Geryuganshoop was still alive, I’m sure you could have taught him a thing or two.” Boros spoke as if he had not been attacked just moments ago. Large cracks dotted the alien’s armor and the red cape on his back was torn, but his flesh was completely untouched.

“Tch,” the green-haired esper glared at the alien, half in anger and half in shock. Was he toying with her? Did he have the actual gall to hold back against her attack?! 

Questions began to spin in Tatsumaki’s mind, but the esper pushed them away. There was only one thing for certain at the moment: his power was growing by the second. There was no time to waste; she had to ramp things up a bit. 

The throne room rumbled with energy as Tatsumaki’s body was washed with pale green light. Dozens of pillars to either side of Boros crumbled to rubble, pulled by an unseen force toward the esper and gathered around her in a whirlwind. The debris spun faster and faster, causing it to catch flame and melt.

Alight with red-hot magma and whistling with sheer speed, the room was awhirl with a storm not unlike the ones that ravaged Boros’ home planet.

“How nostalgic,” the alien mused.

In a split-second, he was engulfed by the storm. And everything was set ablaze.

Chapter Text

Fiery pieces of rock splattered the walls around the throne room, leaving everything scorched black in its path. In the middle of the room was a charred-orange spiral, smoldering, raw, with heat. At its center, the ground was liquid, bubbling and popping like lava.

The firestorm was enough to melt buildings in mere seconds; any ordinary being caught within it would come out as a pile of ashen dust. But Tatsumaki’s eyes remained fixed to the pillar of smoke billowing at the center of the spiral. A twisted feeling in her gut told her that whatever she was facing right now was no ordinary being.

An incandescent figure rose from the smoke like a demon from hell. The alien had survived her attack, just as Tatsumaki expected — but not without a cost. Boros’ cape had burnt to cinders, and what little remained of his armor was glowing white-hot. The alien’s light blue skin was burned and blistered from the molten storm, and had now turned into an ugly hue of purplish-red.

Tatsumaki scowled. The creature was abnormally resilient. If he was still able to fight after that attack, then she would have to go all-out, putting everyone beneath the ship in danger — and that included any survivors still trapped in the rubble below. Despite her temperament, the esper didn’t want any innocent blood on her hands.

A voice boomed in front of her, cutting off her train of thought.

“What is your name?”

The alien’s tone was different now. The words were delivered with the authority of the being that had crushed entire populations under his feet. The Dominator of the Universe had spoken to her. Asked a question and demanded an answer. 

“Tatsumaki,” the esper said slowly. Her mind was reeling from the… thing… in front of her. That attack was not something one simply stood up from — not even the strongest of Dragon-Level creatures were an exception. To have the strength to speak with such force was more than abnormal.

Tatsumaki let out a deep breath and shook her head. There was no other choice then. The S-Class heroes currently battling under the ship would need to prove their worth very, very soon. Silently, she cursed herself for not bringing a transmitter before going on board.

“Tatsumaki,” the alien spoke once more, satisfied with the answer she had given her. “You have impressed me. When I defeat you, join the Dark Matter Pirates. Seeing as Geryuganshoop has been killed, I may need another subordinate very soon.”

“Sorry, one-eye,” Tatsumaki replied, stifling her rage. “I’m not interested.”

The alien’s smile didn’t waver. “I expected as much. A warrior like you would rather die than submit to anyone, no matter how badly things turned out.”

“Damn right,” the girl said. An idea was slowly forming in her head, but it wasn’t quite complete. Thankfully, the alien seemed to really like to talk, so Tatsumaki humored him. “Say, one-eye — why’d you come here in the first place?”

“I am here searching for someone,” the alien said. “Your world’s strongest fighter.”

That caught the esper’s attention. Her ear twitched.

“There exists a prophecy, you see,” Boros continued. “It states that on this planet, I will encounter a warrior that is my match. That very warrior is currently aboard this ship. He has decimated my troops and will arrive here shortly, as causality wills.”

Tatsumaki’s eyes widened for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. A City had just been destroyed in an instant. A hero had gotten on the ship before her and utterly destroyed the enemies in a single blow. Surely it had to be him… right?

A small spark of hope rose within her as she came to a conclusion, but she snuffed it out, shaking her head.

“It doesn’t matter who this ‘man of prophecy’ is,” the esper said. “Because I’ll beat you myself.”

Boros grinned. It was a shame that the esper had refused his offer. With this much strength and willpower, she would have made a marvelous second-in-command.

“Then,” the alien began. “Let us — eh?”

The ground was shaking. The orb atop the alien’s throne keeping the ship afloat began to glow and flicker.

The esper’s eyes were an incandescent green. Veins were visible around her temple as she strained against the sphere that kept the ship afloat.

The city-sized spacecraft was probably the most difficult thing Tatsumaki had ever tried to control. Unlike a regular city, which was relatively easy to mold to her will, the ship was resisting her powers. The damn thing was barely moving! There was some sort of energy keeping the ship buoyant; she just needed to find it.

A few seconds later, she felt it.

Her eyes were drawn toward the orb atop the throne room — it grew brighter as she tried to push it down. The room swelled under surges of energy trying to keep the ship buoyant against her efforts.

The ship shook violently and twice-molten debris flew around the room, blocking the alien’s view. Boros was stunned at the esper’s power. His body felt like it was turning to stone. It was as if he was back on his home planet — an alien child trying to survive the hellish wasteland he was born into. The Dominator of the Universe felt his legs buckle underneath him.

“Astounding,” the alien muttered, a grin spreading wider across his face despite the chaos swirling around him. “Of all the creatures I’ve faced, you are the first to bring me to my knees!”

The alien leader revelled in the feeling of powerlessness. This planet was, quite assuredly, the most interesting little one he had ever visited. He was not only about to face his greatest opponent, but he was also fighting a close second as far as he could tell. And what a fight this was! Maybe twenty years in space had dulled Boros’ instincts just a tad, but the alien wanted to see what the little esper truly had under her sleeves.

The power sphere in the throne room was dangerously fluctuating in energy, however — a power sphere of which they had no replacements aboard and whose destruction would cause the ship to crash, setting off all the weaponry underneath. The alien smiled. Her plan was clever, but had one major flaw: it didn’t consider for him.

“RAGH!”

Boros leapt into the air, emitting a sonic boom that cracked the throne room’s floor. The debris whirling around the esper seared the alien’s flesh, but that was of little consequence to him. In an instant he was face-to-face with the esper, pulling his left arm back for a blow that would end the fight, just as it did with nearly every enemy he’d faced thus far.

His fist blew completely off as he punched at the esper, exploding into bits as psychic energy forced him to a stop. The Dominator of the Universe was then sent flying backwards at breakneck speeds, heading towards the power sphere.

In the milliseconds it took to reach the orb, Boros had come to a conclusion. It was clear that there was absolutely no nuance with the esper’s plan. Powerful as she was, her tactical skills were much too blunt. That, combined with her stubborn, overconfident attitude, and in an instant, the path to Boros’ victory was clear.

The alien stifled the impact on the power sphere with his legs and felt the esper begin to pull him back to try again — much more viciously this time around. Boros let out a roar, expelling his own energy, and the psychic’s hold on him broke. The alien landed on his feet with a crash. Harsh purple light began to surround him in a sphere.

Boros’ conquest around the galaxy left him with unrivalled combat experience. He had fought thousands of opponents, and he had beaten each one of them using a combination of both sheer power and tactical superiority. Of these opponents, he found those with long-range attacks to be the most difficult to handle. It took Boros a while, but as with all hurdles the alien faced in his conquest, even entire esper civilizations were eventually crushed under his feet.

Overwhelming speed. The enemy’s willpower. And injury to the central hub of the nervous system — in a human’s case, the brain. Tried and true pillars in defeating those with extrasensory powers, and were always to be considered whenever combatting one. All this ran through the alien’s mind in less than a second as he felt power swelling within him, painfully pushing inside his flesh like a volcano about to erupt. Boros knew he had only a few moments before his energy propelled him forward… 

So he aimed straight for the esper’s head.

“METEORIC BURST!”

* * *

Tatsumaki crashed into a wall opposite the throne, utterly unable to react to the alien’s blitz. She gasped as the back of her skull impacted the hard surface; her breath felt hot.

The esper’s vision was distorted, and as she tried to stand, she felt a dizzying sensation that nearly caused her to retch. Not that she could have stood up, anyway; Boros kicked her down the moment she tried.

His leg, pulsing with white energy, felt like a falling boulder smashing against her stomach. The esper winced in pain — it took all she could not to scream as his leg pushed against her cracked ribs. Grimacing, she sent a psychic wave to push the alien off. Her hands glowed faintly, and despite her injuries, the alien was sent back several meters with considerable force. But it came at a cost.

Tatsumaki’s head felt like it was splitting open — as if a knife was being jammed in between her eyes. The glow surrounding her hands disappeared, and she coughed blood. What had this creature done to her?!

Boros’s deep laugh echoed around the chamber.

“To think you were able to put up a barrier, even at that speed! Magnificent!”

The esper gritted her teeth through the pain, trying to form some sort of plan. The situation was getting impossible.

If she called out for help, she would die.

If she let her injuries stop her from moving, she would die.

She wasn’t even sure if she could push him away with her powers. And in her state, what could she do after that? In the end, his fist would eventually strike true. She would be killed.

And if that happened, nothing would stop him from killing everyone else underneath the ship.

“You were strong, Tatsumaki,” the alien boomed, raising the fist that would end her life.

She didn’t close her eyes.

Dully, the esper heard the sound of wind, and, an instant later, the impact of Boros’s attack. It came from much too far away, however; her surroundings had changed right before the attack. In her addled state of mind, Tatsumaki took a few seconds to notice. The green-haired girl was being carried in someone’s arms.

A white cape fluttered at the edge of her vision, and she felt a pang of déjà vu.

‘Blast…?’ The esper tried to speak.

‘I don’t need your help,’ she wanted to say. ‘I can handle this.’

“I was late again, huh?” the stranger muttered to himself. The voice wasn’t Blast’s. It was calm, almost relaxed — just like the top-ranked hero. With just the slightest hint of the scathing tone she herself had often used when speaking to others. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and spoke once more. “Nice fight, kid. You can leave the rest to me.”

‘Did he just say kid?!’ If the esper could move, she would have punted him to the sky.

Wait…

Eyes widening, Tatsumaki realized that she knew this utter fool. This was the hero she saw during the meeting right before the invasion. He was a B-Class nobody! And he thought he could take on the alien by himself?!

“Don’t be stupid…” Despite her injuries, she forced herself to speak. “I’ll… beat him… myself…”

Saitama laid her down on the ground. And the esper found that she could not, for the life of her, get back up.

“You have defeated my subordinates most splendidly!” Boros smiled, teeth sharp as blades. His white form flickered out, and his skin was back to its regular navy hue. It seemed he had all but forgotten about the green-haired esper; his attention was now fixed solely on what he believed to be his greatest challenger yet. “Before we fight, tell me your name.”

“I’m a hero for fu— I mean, ehrm, I’m the professional hero Saitama,” the caped baldy began. His eyes were lidded, his tone accusatory. “I don’t know what you want, but you wrecked City A, didn’t you?”

“Indeed. And as for what I want…” A shadow spread across Boros’s face. “You see, there exists a prophecy…”

The sound of their speaking droned on in Tatsumaki’s ear. She grunted in pain as she felt her broken ribs creak against themselves. Using what remained of her psychic powers, she aligned them, resigning herself to the searing pain of feeling fractured bone against fractured bone — not to mention the nearly vomit-inducing headache that lit the inside of her skull on fire. This B-Class hero was just stalling for time, she knew. She had to be able to fight as soon as possible.

It was a good thing the alien conqueror had been prattling on without paying attention to her muted screams of agony.

“… So come! Give stimulation to my existence!”

BAM!

Boros flew into what remained of a pillar, reducing the already battered column into dust. He looked completely taken off-guard.

“Are you stupid?” Saitama asked, fist smoking. “You can’t go around conquering planets just because you’re bored. Even fanfiction authors wouldn’t do that.” He thought about it for a bit. “Well, actually—”

Tatsumaki could hear an audible “Oh?” of surprise from Saitama as Boros picked himself off the rubble.

“I see,” Boros said, deep in thought. “It seems I have to go all-out from the start. You shall now bear witness to my immeasurable, irresistible power.”

It was Saitama’s turn to look thoughtful.

“Ok.”

Chapter Text

Tatsumaki clicked her tongue as she mulled to herself, trying to keep her mind off of the pain-filled tremors in her body. If she was at her full power, there was no doubt she could keep up with the two. Hell, she bet she could even fly circles around them!

As she was now, though, that wasn’t happening. Because of her carelessness, she allowed the situation to get as dire as it was at the present. Injured as she was, the fighting pair were blurs to her eyes. The sounds of their impact and the trail of destruction they left as they clashed were Tatsumaki’s only clues as to where the two were.

‘The baldy can keep up,’ she thought, brows furrowed. ‘But if that monster goes into his glowing white form, he’ll die.’

Thanks to the alien’s insistence on showboating to the useless B-Class, Tatsumaki had time to come up with a plan. She needed a way to catch Boros off guard and kill him before he could transform.

The esper forced herself to stand, stumbling slightly without any support to hold on to. Steadying herself as she got on her feet, Tatsumaki quietly cursed the baldy who placed her smack in the middle of the throne room, strewn with rubbles as it was. She walked carefully in the direction of the ensuing brawl, eyes not missing the increasing destruction of the room as the two fought. The pillars that somehow managed to remain standing after Tatsumaki’s previous attack were now nothing but dust as Boros and Saitama clashed. They left nothing in their wake save for smoke and molten stone.

Tatsumaki’s steps grew more confident, but she was forced to keep the pace at a crawl. Red-hot debris dotted the ground — Boros had just drop-kicked the baldy into a column, blasting the both of them through it in an explosion of magma. She had to believe that the B-Class baldy could survive that, though she highly doubted it. The esper decided that it would be best to take cover under whatever she could find that was left standing. If the baldy had bitten the dust, she needed to stay hidden and strike as quickly as possible.

Making her way to an upturned piece of ship that had been sent flying by the raging battle, an ear-ringingly loud crash from above made the esper flinch. Looking over to the sound, Tatsumaki found a gaping hole formed in the throne room’s ceiling. Light streamed from it and the sounds of distant clashing could be heard. The B-Class was still fighting. 

“Heh.” Despite him cutting her fight off midway, she had to respect the baldy’s spunk.

Tatsumaki allowed herself a moment to rest as she settled under the circle of sunlight. She took a few deep breaths, settling the adrenaline rushing through her. Even chuckling to herself was painful. Her body felt like stone. It was telling Tatsumaki that she was at her absolute limit, that she couldn’t — shouldn’t — push herself further.

As if to further convince the esper that it was a bad idea to continue fighting, a blast of fire scorched the top of the ship, singeing the esper’s collar and sleeves. The ceiling turned red-hot and the edges of the hole bubbled and popped. Everything above was covered in smoke.

Ignoring the obvious danger going up there posed, an instinctive thought entered Tatsumaki’s mind.

‘He could blast FIRE?! Did that alien really hold back against me?!’ The esper felt heat flow through her. ‘How DARE that one-eyed freak!!’

Power temporarily renewed by a rush of pride, anger and sheer will, a green aura flickered around Tatsumaki. She flew up through the still-boiling hole and into the fog.

BOOM!!

The green-haired esper shielded her face as a blast of wind blew across the rooftop, dissipating every last trace of smoke on the battlefield. Looking over to the source of the sound, she saw the B-Class hero standing in a daze. Had he been hit?

Boros was speaking loudly about how his race was far superior to the human species, being given the ability to self-heal and yada, yada, yada. Tatsumaki’s mind was focused more on how long it would take before she had enough power to snap the alien’s neck. Judging by her turbulent control of her flight at the moment, she guessed that it would take around five minutes.

Boros’ booming voice was interrupted by the baldy’s. Tatsumaki couldn’t hear his words, but they seemed to enrage the alien. She took a step back as Boros surrounded himself in a sphere of white energy. This was it. The B-Class needed to run away and stave off the alien’s attack for as long as he coul—

The baldy was just standing there. Was he stupid?!

But of course he wouldn’t have known about it. That was why the alien had saved the attack for this long. Boros wanted to end things right then and there.

Inwardly, Tatsumaki cursed, watching the searing light grow brighter. She didn’t have enough time!

In anticipation of Boros’ attack, the esper threw out her hands and pinned the alien with all the psychic energy she could muster. Her head pounded. Why wasn’t the baldy doing anything?

“MOVE!!” Tatsumaki screamed. The ground around Boros sagged down under her power. Saitama didn’t seem to hear, idly watching as the alien aimed directly for him.

“METEORIC BURST!!”

The esper’s hold on Boros was broken in an instant, and the baldy disappeared from where he was standing.

Tatsumaki was blown back by Boros’ attack as well. Barely able to put up a barrier in time, the ship liquified around her. Sensing multiple alien henchmen inside the ship vanish, she realized that the alien had abandoned all control.

Peering through the smoke, the green-haired girl couldn’t see the two at all. The only thing she felt was impact after impact, seemingly coming from every part of the ship at once, shaking the ground beneath her. Inside her barrier, the esper tried — and failed — to stifle the alien’s attacks on the B-Class using the surrounding rubble as cushions to soften momentum. But her barrage of debris wasn’t strong enough; the pieces of alien metal simply melted as soon as they were exposed to the aura surrounding Boros. Relying only on her energy-sensing capabilities for vision didn’t help, either. In her present state, Tatsumaki would have been better off just throwing attacks at random.

After several more scorching moments of fighting, a loud crash from above caused the city-sized ship to rumble dizzyingly, dispersing the smoke and flames around Tatsumaki. For a brief moment, the esper saw a pillar of light pierce the sky, and she could no longer sense a trace of the B-Class hero.

Boros’ chest rose and fell as he looked at the deep blue above him. It didn’t take him long to hunch over, grabbing his chest in pain.

Tatsumaki steeled herself. The B-Class had bought her enough time. He wouldn’t be dying in vain.

This was her chance.

The esper raised her arms, commanding several thousand pieces of the ship to obey her will. Realizing they were near-liquid and easy to manipulate, she flicked her finger — bathing the rubble in emerald light. The stones transformed, writhing in the air like eerie black rain, they warped and turned needle-like. Boros looked around, not comprehending.

Several sharp stabs of pain shot through Tatsumaki’s head, but she ignored it. Boros took a stance to guard himself, but the spears were already upon him.

Thousands upon thousands of blades screamed, whistling toward the alien commander faster than the speed of sound. They smashed into the ship’s hull, the sickening scraping of metal upon metal cutting through the air. The barrage seemed to be unending.

Tatsumaki gnashed her teeth as another spike of pain shot through her skull. Her head was bleeding, but she had to keep the attack up for as long as possib—

A plane crash of a punch sent the esper flying, sucking the air out of her lungs. She crashed into the ground several dozen meters away, coughing up blood.

“You… did you think you could catch me… by surprise?” Boros rumbled quietly, taking his time to walk up to the girl. His body was covered with needles, which were slowly melting from his skin. He bled viscous alien blood.

Boros’ shadow loomed ominously over her.

"Rrrahhh!" Tatsumaki used the last of her power to envelop the alien’s head in a ring of energy, tight as a vice. And she twisted.

“Ngh!” Boros’ head turned sharply to the right like a puppet’s, his neck muscles being pulled like rubber. Tatsumaki could feel his exhaustion — his resistance to her powers was getting weaker and weaker. She was so close… if she could withstand the pain… if she could just keep her arms from dropping…

The alien slammed his hand onto her throat, breaking the esper’s grip in an instant.

“I grow sick of you!” Boros roared, snapping his head back fiercely. He raised her up with one arm and stared into her eyes. Barely conscious, the esper stared back. She felt as if she was looking at pure power. “A runt should learn when to flee,” he said, gripping tighter. The esper gasped in pain. “This unfounded stubbornness will be your demise !”

In the corner of her eye, Tatsumaki saw a yellow-white flash blast through the sky. It collided with the ship and exploded behind Boros. The entire ground shook with the strength of the impact.

Turning to face the noise, the alien dropped Tatsumaki with a thud, looking surprised. The green-haired girl felt the ship list sharply, and she slid helplessly down against a nearby wall.

‘Metal Knight…?’ she thought dully, trying to put the pieces together. ‘Did that dumb slacker finally decide to show up?’

The esper’s eyes widened as a figure walked out of the smoke, clad in ridiculous yellow and red. A certain bald B-Class hero had just returned from the dead. And with a stupid grin on his face to boot.

“Ah, I made it,” Saitama said looking around. His eye caught a hint of green hair behind the alien and he turned worried. “H-hey, are you—?”

With a roar of joy, the Dominator of the Universe rushed toward the hero, using sheer speed to force the baldy to defend.

Tatsumaki could do nothing but watch the alien begin his barrage anew, smashing into the hero seemingly everywhere at once, leaving no room for counterattack.

The sound of Saitama’s single punch rang through louder than any of Boros’ ground-shaking blows. The alien was sent hurtling back past the esper, only managing to catch himself after flying several dozen meters. Spitting out blood, Boros grinned.

“That’s it Saitama!” he said. “You are indeed a man worth defeati—”

“Consecutive Normal Punches.”

The alien was turned into mincemeat.

But only for a second.

Quickly, and much to Tatsumaki's surprise, the alien quite literally pulled himself together — with the sickening sound of meat and bone gnashing into each other.

Lightning began to flash around Boros' body, and he yelled in rage. Light cascaded down in waves, scorching the ground it touched — and a pillar of lightning came racing toward her.

Saitama jumped in front of Tatsumaki, blocking a bolt of energy that would have burnt the esper to ash.

“I WILL DEFEAT YOU!” roared the Dominator of the Universe, jumping to the sky. “I’LL RELEASE ALL MY ENERGY, BLASTING YOU — AND THIS PLANET — TO OBLIVION!!!”

The attack was like a star had appeared in the sky above A City — there was no other way to describe it. The esper, even almost completely drained of psychic capabilities, could sense Boros’ energy piling up exponentially. After mere moments, she didn’t need her powers to sense the heat, the light, the energy, build and scorch the very air itself. His claim that the attack could destroy the planet wasn’t a bluff, he was here to end everything .

‘How had it come to this?’ Tatsumaki cursed. If she’d not let her guard down… if she had just killed Boros before he could transform, this nightmare scenario would never have taken place.

Using her feelings of frustration as leverage for power, Tatsumaki used the last of her strength to try to at least redirect the blast.

“COLLAPSING STAR, ROARING CANNON!!!”

The alien’s attack ripped the atoms of the air apart — and try as she might, the white-hot beam barely budged under her power’s influence.

It was over.

* * *

In a quiet, personal room in the Fubuki Group headquarters, a raven-haired esper was watching a small television set in a daze. The news was on, and all broadcasts pointed to the immense ship that loomed above the city. Reporters rattled on about the situation, detailing the heroes sent to meet the enemy as well as those sent out to rescue any survivors. Surges of static popped up here and there as the energy emanating from the floating spacecraft spiked. Nevertheless, the reporters pushed through.

“… According to S-Class Rank 5 Child Emperor, the ship has been almost completely silent as of a few minutes ago. Partially, he states that it is due to S-Class Rank 2 Tatsumaki’s disabling of the ship’s ground cannons, but he worries that there may be another reason behind it. Further updates will come.”

The camera cut to a close-up featuring the young S-Class prodigy, frantically sipping orange juice and typing quickly on his laptop. His screen was too bright to be readable, but the flashing red was definitely not a good sign. He clicked his tongue and looked to the roof of the listing ship, which had been flashing with fire and light nonstop for the past few minutes.

The screen returned to the female reporter, who had just received news on the happenings beneath the ship. Child Emperor carried on typing in the background.

“Near the center of City A’s ruins, the S-Class heroes Silverfang, Atomic Samurai, Metal Bat, and Puri Puri Prisoner have defeated a Dragon-Level threat! They have reported that it seems to be the only ground troop the aliens have sent out, and are now discussing amongst one another about how to bring the ship down.”

Fubuki frowned as the reporter listed the heroes present. Tatsumaki had gone to the meeting hours ago — she should have been one of the first ones to react when the spaceship attacked, and was an indispensable force to help bring any enemies down. So why hadn’t they mentioned her name?

Cold crept up the B-Class esper’s spine as she realized what her sister had probably done. And the news reporter confirmed just that mere moments later.

“It seems that the S-Class hero Tornado of Terror entered the ship alone around half an hour ago. None of the S-Class have been able to communicate with her since then, but rest assured, we must believe that our Rank 2 hero will defeat the ene—”

Child Emperor practically threw his laptop in the air, screaming to the S-Class in the distance. “IT’S GONNA BLOW!”

In her head, the raven-haired esper heard her sister speak telepathically. Tatsumaki’s voice was barely a whisper, and Fubuki’s heart dropped to her stomach, unable to believe what her older sister had just said.

‘Fubuki, I’m sorry.’

On the small screen, Fubuki watched as the top of the ship exploded, and for a few moments, it was as if the bright lights of heaven had appeared in City A. Brilliant ribbons of blue, gold, and that pure, searing white filled the sky above, screaming a song of rebirth.

The screen turned into static.

Members of the Fubuki Group burst her office door open, clamoring over one another in an attempt to talk to their leader.

“Miss Fubuki, are you—?!”

“Fubuki-san, we—!!”

“Do you want us to head to City A, ma’am?!”

They chattered on, but the B-Class esper didn’t respond.

Fubuki was in shock. That was the first time her sister had ever apologized to her.

Was it really going to be the last?

* * *

Tatsumaki’s first waking moments were spent wondering why the afterlife was so painful.

Quiet, yes. Pleasantly windy and eerily calm, definitely.

But the dull stabbing in her ribs and skull that quickly grew unbearable reminded her that this wasn’t the end for her yet.

Forcing her eyes to take in what had just happened, the esper could barely believe what she saw.

The sky was split in half, the deafening thrum of lightning had ceased, and the alien was on the floor, unmoving. Unbelievably — impossibly — the fight was over.

The baldy somehow broke through an attack that would have wiped out humanity.

The baldy somehow forced the Dominator of the Universe to fall to the ground, half of his regenerating body burnt to nothingness.

There was no cheering, no fanfare, no celebration from Saitama. The man who had saved the world just stood there, quiet, his cape dancing in the breeze. For a brief moment, she had a vision of years long past — of another white-caped hero that gave her another chance to live. And then the vision faded to black.

“I… I feel nothing. Did I… lose…?” Boros was the first to break the silence. His skin was charred gray, and his hair was a pale pink. But even at death’s door, the alien’s voice echoed with dignity.

Saitama looked over at his foe.

“You’re still conscious,” the hero said quietly. “You really are strong.”

“… The prophecy held true,” Boros replied. “The battle was… hard-fought.”

The wind whistled.

“Yeah…” Saitama breathed.

Boros smiled to himself. He had not expected the planet’s finest warrior to be so… odd . “It seems… we are different in that way as well.”

Saitama raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

“Lying,” the alien said knowingly. It was then that Boros decided — he would not die in delusion. “Try as I might… you still had strength to spare. I… didn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t even a battle.”

The hero didn’t respond.

“So much for prophecies, huh?” Boros chuckled weakly.  “You’re far too strong…

“Saitama…”

As life drained from his body, the alien sighed. A weight had been lifted, and the Dominator of the Universe passed on a crushing truth to the hero standing before him. It was a truth he would not wish upon his worst enemy, but it seemed to have been passed on to a strange sort of friend. It was different if it was that man — someone who would lie for the sake of others, instead of for himself. Maybe he would do better?

All the felled Dominator of the Universe knew now was that he was free — and that this warrior was the one who freed him.

Boros died before he could say thank you.

‘Is he coming over to gloat?’ Tatsumaki thought as Saitama walked over to her. 

There was a shadow over his face, but his expression was completely blank. Try as she might, the esper couldn’t tell at all what was going through the man’s head.

‘Go ahead, brag — laugh!’ she said in her head. ‘Tch. The one time I fail, and this man has to be the one to see it.’

Readying herself for scathing words, she was taken totally off guard as Saitama picked her up with surprising care, so as to not burden the esper’s injured body.

Tatsumaki looked at Saitama’s face, trying once more to look past the shadows cast on his eyes. His exchange with Boros was probably still fresh in his mind, and the distant look he had practically proved it. Based on the alien’s propensity to blather on and on, he had probably said something that stuck with the caped hero.

“The ship’s about to crash. Hold on,” he said, cutting the esper’s train of thought. Tatsumaki looked at him, again trying to pry open into his head. But it seemed utterly and hopelessly sealed shut — but the esper wasn’t the greatest at reading people, anyway. Wasting any more energy on the matter was worthless, she decided, and let herself relax in the man’s arms.

As Saitama thought about what he’d make for dinner, the ship shook roughly — had it finally begun to crash? Tatsumaki lurched sideways, not feeling confident in the baldy’s hold on her. She tried repositioning herself.

It kind of worked. Just for a little while, though.

The tremors around the ship grew stronger, and try as the baldy might to keep her steady in a cradle-carry, Tatsumaki grew more and more uncomfortable.

She turned towards Saitama and held his arm.

‘Ah, that’s a little better.’

The hero was surprised at how soft the esper’s grip was.

Chapter Text

The ship rumbled gently as the last of its damaged hull touched down on A City. The shaking had finally stopped.

Saitama peered over the edge. It was around a fifty-or-so meter drop. He shrugged. Not too bad. He just hoped his already-shredded cape wouldn’t get caught on any jutting metal pieces on the way down — and now that he mentioned it, it probably would. But capes were of little consequence, anyway. His priority was to ensure the esper’s safety.

The bald man took a breath as he stepped to the side of the ship.

“Here goes nothing,” Saitama muttered, holding the esper closer in his arms.

Leg half-raised and ready to jump down, the hero felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Oi… baldy,” Tatsumaki said weakly.

“The name’s Saitama,” he replied, frowning at the nickname. “What do you want? Are you afraid of heights?”

If the esper had the energy to scoff, she would have. “Of course not! Le… ah… let me down.”

“Uh, okay.” Shrugging, the bald man placed the esper down on the ground beside him. 

The alien’s attack was still burned into her vision. His grip on her throat seared like molten iron.

‘I failed,’ Tatsumaki thought, chest tightening painfully. ‘That alien took me off guard. I… I didn’t even have the strength to see how it ended. Did this guy really…?’

She looked over to Saitama — who was picking his nose. He was muttering something to himself, something like ‘scrambled eggs and rice?’ The esper couldn’t look away faster if she tried.

‘God help me,’ Tatsumaki said, looking up to the sky. ‘I can’t believe that idiot saw me like this. If he tells the others about how I couldn’t face up to that alien freak, it doesn’t matter how strong he is — I swear I’ll kill him!’ The esper calmed herself. ‘Right now, though… the only important thing is,’ Standing up shakily, the esper tried to call on her powers. ‘I have to get out of here.’

Tatsumaki’s form flickered green, but her body wouldn’t allow for any more than that.

“Ghh!”

The esper’s head pounded, blood trickling down her face.

Drip… drip… drip.

It… it wasn’t stopping.

“Ah…!” The esper clutched her forehead, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Her body forced her to fall onto the floor.

She’d gone too far. Pushing one’s powers when they were completely drained was something an esper should never do. After Boros’ first punch, she could definitely feel her hold on her powers getting weaker. Now she was completely and utterly spent. The bastard had practically crippled her powers in a single attack. Even dead, he’d left her powerless — what a sick joke. The esper wiped her head furiously with her left arm’s sleeve.

A cloth wrapped around Tatsumaki’s forehead.

The esper flinched — sending a stab of pain into her head — and turned around, scowling. The B-Class hero looked back at her, ripped cape in hand.

“What… do you think you’re doing, baldy?” said the esper.

“Blindfolding you so I can take you somewhere sketchy,” replied Saitama, straight-faced.

Tatsumaki was either not amused or didn’t think that was a joke at all. Or both. She gave him the nastiest look he’d ever seen.

“I, uh, thought that would make you calm down. I was kidding. Here,” he knelt over beside her, tightening the cloth and tying it in a ribbon. Blood seeped into it for a moment, but eventually the slow trickling ceased. “There you go.”

“Just… stop,” Tatsumaki said, touching the fabric on her forehead. “I don’t need your help. I don’t… want anything to do with you.”

“Same here,” said Saitama. “The sooner you let me get you down, the sooner we can have nothing to do with each other.”

That made sense, it really did — but the esper wasn’t happy about it in the slightest.

“Fine,” she said. “Make it quick.”

Saitama carried her again.

“Here we go then,” he said. And jumped.

“Sensei!”

The cyborg made his way to Saitama, who had managed to get half his body stuck in the ground. The rubble wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. Not even close. Luckily, he managed to get the little esper out of the way before he hit the ground. As it was, he was holding her above his head like she was some kind of prize fish he’d just caught.

Genos was trying to pull him up by his belt, but Saitama wouldn’t budge.

‘Kill me,’ Tatsumaki said, feeling the baldy try wiggling out in rhythm to the cyborg’s pulling. The S-Class and the B-Class were a perfect pair in the worst way possible.

“You can… put me down, you know…” she said, her pain not lessening the annoyance in her tone.

Saitama looked as if the esper had just solved the mysteries of the universe. “Ohhhhhhh!”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes.

Saitama carefully set the green-haired girl down and pulled himself out of the ground. Genos, who had been waiting for his master to come out of the ship for the past few minutes, talked to him with anxiety-ridden vigor. Tatsumaki sat down, resigning herself to listen to their conversation. Her legs still couldn’t support her weight.

“Sensei! You’re unharmed!” Genos noted, looking at Saitama up and down.

“Yeah, the situation’s pretty much handled,” the baldy said.

“Were you the cause of the explosion up there?” Genos pointed towards the ship.

“Eh, kinda,” said Saitama. He gestured upward with his thumb. “There was someone really strong up there. I just kinda deflected his attack.”

“I see, sensei,” Genos lowered his hand and touched his chin. “My sensors couldn’t properly calculate the limits of that explosion’s energy. Does this mean that you’ve beaten the enemy that would have brought about the prophesied ‘trouble’ towards the Earth?”

“Nah.” It was Saitama’s turn to look thoughtful. Boros had spoken of a prophecy, too, and it seemed that his oracle had lied about it being a matched fight. “Turns out, prophecies can’t be trusted.”

“Oh… I see, sensei!” Genos brought out a notebook, quickly jotting down notes. After a few seconds, he paused. “Ah, master. By the way,” the cyborg gestured to the injured esper. “What happened to her?”

Saitama shrugged. “Dunno. The kid got hurt before I got there. What do you think we should do about her?”

“I’m here , you know,” said Tatsumaki, choosing to overlook the bald man’s ‘kid’ insult. The esper’s tendency to be ignored had always been a sore spot. She pointed a finger at Saitama. “And just to clear things up, I didn’t need your help there. I could’ve beaten him myself.” 

“We should bring her to the nearest hospital, sensei,” Genos answered Saitama, speaking over the esper’s last statement. “With her injuries, it would not be recommended to just let her be.”

“Makes sense,” the baldy said. “Where’s the nearest one?”

“Oi!” the esper shouted. “Are you two deaf?!”

“Let’s see,” Genos began. His pupils flashed with little lights as they surveyed possible locations to bring the esper to. “The nearest hospitals are in City B, but my recommendation is to head to M-City instead. It is large and relatively safe, since the S-Class King’s presence is enough to keep crime at bay. I worry that the hospitals may be full, though. If it comes down to it, sensei, I will personally evict those with lesser injuries! Those with minor bruises and scrapes will be forced away!”

“He—llo—!?” Tatsumaki called.

“No, don’t do that!” said Saitama hurriedly. “But, uh, City M, huh? That’s kinda… far.”

“Is it?” Genos asked. “If you are not satisfied with my recommendation, I will recalibrate my search based on a straight-line path to our apartment in Z-City. Would that be better for you, master?”

“HEY!!” Tatsumaki stood up before Saitama could say anything, grabbing the baldy’s ripped-up cape and pulling it. She ignored the wave of nausea that hit her, but stumbled as her legs shook. “L-listen here!”

Genos did not take lightly to her ‘attack’ on his master. He placed an arm between the two. “Do not harass sensei!”

“Shut up, small fry. This has nothing… ahh… nothing to do with you!” Tatsumaki placed a hand on her ribs, quickly running out of energy to argue. With difficulty, she pointed at Saitama. “I'm not going to a hospital, you hear me?”

The baldy frowned, waving for his disciple to lay off the arm-blocking pose. “But you need a doctor.”

“I’m fine . I just need you to take me home and leave me b—”

Home. Her home in A-City . The city that had just gotten demolished by Boros’ ship. She had nowhere to go.

‘Dammit…!’ Tatsumaki sat back down.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Saitama asked.

Pretending not to hear, the esper shut her eyes tight.

“Yo,” Saitama waved a hand in front of Tatsumaki. “You still with us?”

“Shh!” The esper slapped his hand away. To her displeasure, it barely moved. “Let me think!”

Saitama shrugged, turning to Genos. The baldy brought something up about egg and rice, and their stupid conversation began once more.

At least they had the decency to move a little further away.

* * *

The S-Class Rank 3 hero Silverfang pounded his back the third time that day, trying to beat the pain out of it.

‘I’m getting older by the day,’ he noted with resignation. Prolonged fights like the one with the regenerating alien would be dangerous if they kept coming up again in the next few months, he knew. In his present state, he could probably only beat Dragon-level threats after he did his daily stretching. Anything before that, and he would definitely get something pulled. In-battle cramps were horrendous for keeping form.

“Haah,” Bang breathed, finally able to vanquish his lower back ache. “I should probably do more full-body workouts.”

The old martial artist was currently walking around the perimeter of the ship, deciding to follow the young cyborg that had removed himself from the other, arguing heroes around the ship. He knew that in time, he would catch up to Genos — and in turn, he would meet up with Saitama. The two, aside from being amazingly powerful, were better company than many of the hot-headed men — and one woman — he knew.

He also wasn’t giving up on getting them to become his pupils, not in the slightest. Perhaps his performance would convince Genos to take up some martial arts. And in turn, Saitama would study under him too. Oh, how strong they would become!

His backache had been completely forgotten by the time he’d arrived at his destination.

Stepping carefully around the uneven ground, Bang heard the familiar voices of the two rookie heroes grow louder. As he turned a corner he saw them standing idly, Genos pointing accusingly at Saitama’s glove. The hero was making his thumb detach from the joint using ‘magic,’ it seemed, and Genos could not understand how he was doing it.

Before he could chuckle at the silly scene, Bang’s instincts rapped gently in his subconscious. There was another presence nearby, he realized. The battle-hardened man tried to place it immediately. Surveying the clusters of debris around him, he spotted a small esper, nearly camouflaged in the rubble near the ship. That was odd. She was never one to use her feet to get from place to place — much less deactivate them in order to sit down on the ground.

The old hero’s eyes turned wide as he walked closer. She was bleeding from the head and neck, and had moderate burns around her entire body. Her arms were crossed, pressing against her ribs, and her eyes were closed shut.

“Tatsumaki!” Bang called out, jumping gracefully over to the small esper. “Are you—!”

“Oh, hey Bang! Hey!” Before he could finish, Saitama called out, jogging over to him. The caped hero put a finger over his mouth, signing for silence. “Shhh…”

Bang looked at him, not quite understanding the reasoning behind the baldy’s action. Nonetheless, he respected the man enough to keep his voice at a whisper. “Saitama, did you not notice Tatsumaki lying injured over here?”

“Ah, about that,” the bald man said, whispering back. “I don’t think she wants to be around people right now. She said she was ‘thinking’ and slapped my hand away.”

Bang frowned again. Saitama led him a little further from the esper so they could speak normally.

“Young Saitama, she’s injured,” Bang began after a few steps. “As a hero, you should not ignore someone who is hurt, no matter what they might say. We must bring her to a hospital right away.”

Saitama nodded. “You say that, but little miss hero over there seems to really be against the idea. Besides, she can actually stand — and shout in my ear — if you can believe it.”

Bang twiddled his moustache. After being around Saitama, he learned that despite how lazily the bald man seemed to act, if someone was truly in danger, he would not hesitate to take action.

“If both you and her say so, then I suppose the situation isn’t as bad as it seems,” Bang said. “But still, let me try talking her out of it. No matter how you put it, not seeking medical help seems… unwise.”

“We’ll find a way, but sure — if you can,” Saitama shrugged as Bang began to make his way towards the esper. 

Turning quickly back over to Genos, the strongest man ‘pulled’ his thumb off and laughed as the blonde cyborg stared at him, trying to analyze the scene with his A.I. assisted sight.

Tatsumaki groaned inwardly as she heard Bang make his way toward her. The esper had a lot of respect for the rank 3 hero — that was why she really didn’t want to argue with him — but if worse came to worst, she would definitely do it.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Tatsumaki said weakly as the old martial artist sat down in front of her. “And I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“Tatsumaki, be reasonable,” said Bang. He knew that dealing with the stubborn type required a gentler approach. “Being injured is a part of a hero’s everyday life — and so is getting proper treatments for any of those injuries. People are worried about you. You should show them that you’re safe.”

“I don’t care,” the esper said, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not going.”

“Hmm? Why?”

Tatsumaki stayed quiet.

Bang sighed. There was a difference between being stubborn and being stupidly so, and it seemed that a majority of the S-Class were part of the latter. There must have been some reason for Tatsumaki to loathe the idea of being in a medical facility, but it was not his business to peer too deeply into it. Maybe it was his old age getting to him, but he relented.

“If you believe in yourself with such diligence, then there’s nothing I can say to change your mind,” Bang said. “But take some advice from an old man who’s made more mistakes than he can count: choosing to be alone when you need help is the worst thing you can do.”

The old martial artist stood up, exchanged a few words with Saitama and Genos, patted their shoulders and headed off. Tatsumaki was left to her own thoughts.

“I don’t need help,” the esper muttered, fighting past the aching pain all over her body — and the urge to close her eyes and succumb to her exhaustion.

“I don’t need help,” she whispered to herself once more, like a mantra.

That time, she only half-meant it.

After a few minutes, Saitama walked over to the esper, who was still sitting against the rubble of the ship.

“C’mon. We’re going,” he said. “I’m hungry and you’re hurt. Sitting there on the ground isn’t doing much for either of us.”

The esper glared ice at him. “I told you, I’m not letting you carry me to any of your stupid M-City hospitals!”

Saitama tilted his head — she knew exactly what he was gonna say next.

“Or any other city’s hospitals, either!” she spat.

Sighing, Saitama sat down beside the small esper. He adjusted the rocks to get more comfortable. “Then where are we going, huh? Tell me.”

Tatsumaki didn’t reply.

“You got a house?” Saitama suggested. “I could drop you off, maybe have Genos take a look at your wounds.”

“I lived here,” replied Tatsumaki. She sounded annoyed.

“Ah,” Saitama said. He had half a mind to ask if she lived on the ship, but he quickly realized that she meant ‘here’ as in… the ruins of A-City. “Then, does anyone you know live nearby?”

The esper didn’t respond.

“Does anyone you know live… far- by?” he asked.

Again, silence.

“Family?” the bald man suggested, getting impatient.

Tatsumaki looked away from him.

“Oi. If you aren’t gonna reply, then we’re gonna be here all day,” Saitama said. “Aren’t you hungry?”

No response. The bald man’s eye twitched. Had she suddenly become mute?

“Hey,” he began, frowning. “Answer me.”

The wind howled through the destroyed ship. Dust danced in the air. Tatsumaki refused to reply.

Feeling a twinge of annoyance, Saitama opened his mouth to snap at the stubborn girl.

Thankfully, a certain old martial artist seemed to have known what would happen minutes before it actually did. His words rang inside the man’s bald head.

‘Be patient with her,’ Bang had said to the two heroes before walking off. ‘She isn’t used to needing help.’

Sighing, the bald man closed his eyes and sat there with the esper for a few minutes.

* * *

“Why… don’t you just… leave?” Tatsumaki started. Her voice had gotten even weaker. “Why are you… so dead-set on helping me?”

“You’re obviously hurt,” Saitama said, keeping his eyes closed. “Even if you say you’re fine, I can tell you won’t be able to walk if you try.”

“… You’re really annoying… you know that?”

“Same goes for you, kid.”

“I… I told you… I’m not a kid!” Tatsumaki said, coughing after the exclamation.

“Well you’re acting like one,” Saitama said, opening his eyes and rolling them. He looked at her. “So, have you decided where to go yet? You didn’t answer any of my questions a while ago.”

“No,” she replied. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Saitama looked unimpressed. “You know, Genos talked to me about your sister. Fuyu — Futon — no, uhh, Fubuki?” Tatsumaki’s ear twitched. “Why don’t we take you to her?”

“Definitely not!” The esper’s reply was a little too quick.

“But—”

“No way are you bringing me to her, you understand me?!”

Saitama groaned. “ No this, no that — I can’t believe this…”

The bald man stood up muttering, and walked off.

‘He’s finally left,’ Tatsumaki thought to herself. She wasn’t sure whether to be happy or disappointed — and she hated the fact that she was even considering feeling the latter. ‘I can get some peace and quiet here, then make my way to wherever no one will see me after I can walk again.’

She felt a small wave of heat in front of her.

“Yes, sensei!” the girl heard a distant voice say. Looking over, she saw Genos blast into the distance, propelled by powerful jets of fire on his shoulders. He seemed to be in a hurry.

The baldy, on the other hand, was still there. Scratching his head in the distance, the esper watched him turn and walk back over to her.

“What are you doing… baldy?” she asked, frowning.

“If you’ve really got nowhere to go, then,” the bald man started, honestly not believing what he was about to say. “Then… you can stay with us for a bit.”

“With you…?” Tatsumaki frowned.

“Yep,” Saitama said, looking dead inside. He dreaded the idea of another person staying in his already-cramped apartment. “With me… and Genos… and all of our stuff…”

“Hmm,” the esper ignored his muttering.

If it was anyone else, the esper would have scoffed and turned them down immediately.

But it was him asking.

And she was thinking about it. An emotionless, utterly unreadable baldy she hadn’t even heard of before that day had just asked her if she wanted to stay over, and she was actually thinking about it!

After a few more minutes of thinking on the esper’s part, and a few more minutes of foot-tapping and stomach-grumbling on the baldy’s, Tatsumaki had reached a conclusion. Why exactly she had come to that conclusion was a mix of intrigue and simple necessity, but it wasn’t to say she didn’t still have apprehensions about the caped idiot himself. Even if he was a hero, and she knew he wouldn’t do anything completely stupid while she recovered, there were still so many reasons for the green-haired esper to be wary.

But right now, the pros outweighed the cons. The scene she’d witnessed atop the ship had definitely raised her opinion of him too, even if she hated to admit it.

His cape still fluttered warmly in her mind.

“Fine,” said Tatsumaki. The words came out like sandpaper in her mouth. She felt a little lightheaded after having not spoken in a while. “But I don’t need you… ahh… coddling me while I recover, got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Saitama breathed a sigh of relief, finally managing to convince the little esper to make a decision — despite it being very much to his own detriment. “I’ll carry you there now, okay?”

“Duh. I can’t walk, so you have to carry me,” the esper said, closing her eyes. “Make sure the ride isn’t bumpy.”

Saitama pushed down his building annoyance and picked her up for a second time that day. The bald hero began jogging towards Z-City.

“Is the ‘ride’ smooth enough for you?” he started sarcastically, the ground whizzing by under him. Receiving no response, he assumed that it was. So he decided to try and make some small talk.

“Are you really sure you want to stay over at my place?” he asked. “Why don’t you want to go to your sister?”

The only thing he could hear were the sounds of his footsteps and the wind rushing past his smooth head. Saitama looked down.

The esper had fallen asleep in his arms, finally succumbing to exhaustion.

‘She was kinda more reasonable after I talked to her,’ Saitama thought. ‘I’ve gotta remember to thank Bang for his advice.’

Smiling to himself, the bald man could almost taste the rice bowl he would be making for dinner…

That is, if he hadn’t overlooked something very, very important. Slowing to a halt and thinking for a few moments, realization dawned on the bald hero. When Genos had rushed off, Saitama had told him to buy some medical supplies for the little esper — as well as a small bag of rice to cook later on. But…

‘I… I forgot to tell Genos to buy eggs. Damn.’

Chapter Text

Saitama jumped in surprise as Tatsumaki sat up in front of him, almost dropping the manga he was reading. It was a classic horror story — he’d gotten very invested — and the esper’s sudden movement caused his heart to skip a beat.

As the esper in question slowly looked around, Saitama calmed down and picked up where he left off. He wanted nothing to do with the spiral-haired esper at the moment. Based on his manga, her twisting green curls weren’t to be trusted.

Tatsumaki scanned the room groggily, giving no sign that she paid the bald man’s outburst any attention. It seemed she was currently in an apartment. A tiny one, even for her standards. The room she was currently in was around five-by-five meters large, and was filled all around with shelves, mats, and tables — making the place feel cramped and small. A single glass window-slash-door-to-the-balcony was providing the lighting for the room. At least that was big.

Judging from the light streaming from the window, it appeared to be around seven in the evening — the orange hues of the setting sun bathed the room in a bright glow.

The thin sheets under the esper felt quite warm, too — she guessed that she’d been asleep for quite a while. Something was odd, though. Her body felt… more constricted than usual.

Looking down, Tatsumaki realized her legs and arms were wrapped tightly in bandages. A new piece of cloth was on her head, too.

Still quite lethargic, the esper frowned. She didn’t know where the hell she was.

‘You can stay with us for a bit.’

Tatsumaki’s eyes widened.

“You… I…” the girl sputtered, facing the bald man. She felt lightheaded again, and the way she spoke definitely showed it. “I told you… I didn’t need you to… coddle me.”

Saitama was still reading. He’d changed from his hero outfit to a plain white t-shirt and black shorts. “You were bleeding all over. I had to replace your headband on the way here.”

“I was fine,” the girl insisted.

“And now you’re better than fine,” the bald man said.

“… Geh.”

Tatsumaki dropped the matter and laid back down. She didn’t want to admit that was relieved to have her injuries tended to. That, and the simple act of sitting upright was embarrassingly difficult. Tatsumaki felt her whole upper body berating her as she laid down.

“I suppose you want me to report your victory against the alien in exchange for me staying here,” the esper blurted.

The bald man looked up over his manga, raising an eyebrow. Was that her way of making small talk?

“You mean Boros? Not really,” he started. “It’s kinda embarrassing how late I was. I’d feel bad if I took credit when you fought him first.”

“Mmm. So… you’re looking for money, then?” Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow. Saitama put the book down.

“About that,” Saitama said, pulling his collar. “Genos is… sorta handling all our finances. There’s really no need.”

The esper’s eyes narrowed. What did the man want, then? Not money, not recognition… maybe he was — no… he couldn’t be…

Right?

Tatsumaki turned over to look at him.

“Are you…” Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes. “Are you into me?”

“Hu—gbh!” Saitama almost choked on his own spit. “Like hell I am!!”

Tatsumaki bristled at the baldy’s violent reaction. “That was a perfectly normal question!!”

“Normal?! You suck at small talk, you know that?” Saitama said. “That isn’t normal at all.”

“Fine.” The esper crossed her arms. “Whatever.”

Saitama stayed silent for a moment, feeling the mood completely dropping. He had half a mind to try and remedy the tension, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“You… uh… should get some rest,” he said eventually, picking up his manga. “That way, you can grow taller.”

Tatsumaki sat up.

“I’m older than you, skinhead!” she spat.

“Skin—” Saitama blinked. “No you aren’t!!”

“Uh, yes I am,” Tatsumaki insisted. “Even if you’ve gone bald, I can tell that you’re still a child . Your face screams inexperience.”

“Well— your face looks like a doll’s!!” Saitama retorted, gesturing at the esper’s facial features. Realizing it came off more like a compliment, he added, “A kid’s doll! Those needlessly expensive ones that no sane person would buy!”

“Those ones always have the best hair,” the esper smirked, not missing a beat. “But… ugh,” she paused, feeling her ribs insist that she lay down. She awkwardly forced out the insult. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“What did you say, you—!” Saitama reminded himself that no matter how prickly she may be, she was a guest. An injured guest whom he offered a place to stay and rest. It was a good thing that she was as lively as she was, too. That meant it probably wouldn’t be long before she left on her own.

“How old are you then?” the baldy asked through gritted teeth.

“Twenty-eight,” Tatsumaki said, closing her eyes.

“Pfft, no way!” Saitama stood up, quickly stepped around the esper, and started up his laptop. There was a hero registry website, he remembered. There was no way the esper would be able to lie about her legal information there. Probably.

“Wanna bet on it?” Tatsumaki asked, steadying her breaths.

A few seconds, a few mouse clicks, and a few scrolled pages later, and Saitama looked over to her in disbelief. Her face was smug.

“You’re twenty-eight?!?! But you’re a midget!! ”

“Exact—” The esper’s eyes shot open. “HEY!!”

Before the two could escalate into another full-blown argument, the door swung open with a bang.

“Sensei, I heard a—!” Genos said, eyes scanning the room for danger. They landed on the green-haired girl and he sighed in relief.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he said. The cyborg had almost forgotten the esper was there. He walked inside, carefully putting his shoes near the doorway. It was quite difficult, since he was carrying a paper bag in his arms.

“What do you mean… ‘just me?’” The esper propped herself up gently with her arm.

Genos walked into the kitchen and spoke to the esper through the kitchen pass-through, bringing out two cartons of eggs inside the paper bag. “Since you obviously cannot use your psychic abilities at the moment,” the cyborg said, taking an egg and inspecting it. “You are unable to harm sensei.”

The green-haired girl clicked her tongue. First, a B-Class nobody had somehow saved her, and now a rookie S-Class was calling her powerless? She couldn’t say anything since it was true at the moment, but it pissed her off, either way. “I’d crush you in two seconds by tomorrow.”

“Just try it, brat,” growled Genos. Saitama quickly stood up in between the esper and cyborg.

“Hey, hey, hey — you know what? We should all just stop fighting,” Saitama said, walking over to Genos. His disciple had just discarded three ‘flawed’ eggs and was now inspecting a fourth one closely. 

“Tatsu-whatsit, you should thank Genos!” Saitama said. “He helped me patch you up pretty well — and bought us eggs right after, too.” Saitama picked one up and showed it to the esper. He handed it to the cyborg afterwards.

“Eh?” Tatsumaki said. Still leaning on one arm, the esper looked down at her bandages. They certainly were more well-tied than whatever the baldy attempted on her forehead. But a full on ‘thank you?’ That was out of the question. “Good job, I guess.”

“It was not for your sake,” Genos said, cracking the egg his sensei gave him into a bowl. “You’re lucky master is as thoughtful as he is.”

“Uh huh,” Tatsumaki said, falling onto her futon. “I won’t be here for long.”

As the two began to prepare a meal, the esper closed her eyes and mulled over her current situation. Z-City was admittedly a very lucky place to be staying in for the time being. Her sister probably wouldn’t think to look for her in such a remote town — and that was already enough to make it excellent in the green-haired esper’s eyes.

What really sealed the deal was being able to avoid the Hero Association.

The girl knew that the H.A. was still hesitant to send heroes to Z-City due to the rumors about its dangerous ghost town. Even if they did plan to search around, they would probably need a few weeks to prepare, since the press would be all over their activities at the moment. All in all, Tatsumaki concluded, the city was not a bad spot to be alone and recover.

That is, if one didn’t consider the two very odd heroes looking after her.

Despite his attitude, the cyborg Genos was the least difficult to pin down. His goals were so simple it was almost funny: follow master, obey master, blah, blah, blah. His single-minded ideals were annoying, but not enough to make the esper want to leave. As long as he kept his arrogant mouth shut, that is.

Then there was him.

She didn’t quite remember his name — ‘ something to do with ‘tama,’ maybe? ’ — but the bald hero seemed completely off to her. There was no way he didn’t want anything in exchange for her staying there, try as he might to hide it.

Tatsumaki decided, one way or another, her current goal was to figure him out.

* * *

“Dinner,” Saitama announced dramatically. “Is served!”

He placed three bowls of scrambled eggs on rice, still steaming from the pan. Genos soon followed, bringing out a shredded seaweed shaker and Japanese mayonnaise from the fridge. The baldy spread the bowls around on the apartment’s small center table and handed out a pair of chopsticks to each of them. The cyborg placed the condiments at the center of the table.

Tatsumaki sat herself up, smelling the newly cooked food.

She sprinkled some nori and mayo on the piping-hot bowl and dug in.

It was… quite good. The rice paired perfectly with the nori, and the scrambled eggs practically melted in her mouth — the added flavors of the mayo enhanced the flavor even further. It was a simple meal, but she couldn’t stop herself from eating bite after bite.

The esper didn’t realize how hungry she was.

It had been almost half a day since her last meal, not to mention she’d just strained herself more in that half-day than she had in most of her life. A part of her wanted to just pick the bowl up, raise it over her mouth and let gravity do the work.

Saitama looked at her smugly.

“You like it, huh?” he asked.

“Huh? Of course not!” Tatsumaki was naturally inclined to antagonize him. “I’m just hungry.”

“But you’re smiling.”

“I…!” The esper quickly covered her mouth. “I am not!” the esper huffed. “The food was so hot — my face curled up.”

The bald man wasn’t convinced, but didn’t bother to push the esper further. After all, she wasn’t the only hungry one in that apartment. Carrying an esper for miles was busy work.

The three heroes ate on in silence, speaking only to ask for the condiments to be passed around. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon, and Genos promptly stood to turn on the house-lights. As he sat back down and continued his bowl, Tatsumaki absentmindedly wondered why a cyborg needed to eat.

After a few more minutes and a little more condiment-sharing, the three heroes were left with empty plates and full stomachs.

Saitama stretched and burped loudly.

“Ahh,” the bald man said, patting his belly. He gave Genos a thumbs-up. “That. Was good.”

“I am glad it was adequate, sensei,” Genos said. He picked up the three empty bowls and brought them into the kitchen to wash.

Tatsumaki tried to relax on her futon, watching as the young cyborg dutifully rinsed their dinner glassware. She turned her head, wondering if the baldy would also help out.

Nope. Saitama was sitting in the corner. He had begun to read his manga again.

Tatsumaki shrugged to herself. If the cyborg was really the baldy’s disciple, then it was no surprise who did the work at home. It was odd, though, now that she thought about it. A B-Class being the master of an S-Class.

‘Hmm…’

Something just didn’t sit right with the esper — and it definitely wasn’t the eggs she just had. There was something really off-putting to her about the baldy.

Perhaps it had to do with whatever had gone on before and after his battle with Boros. Tatsumaki saw him being all chummy with Silverfang hours ago. He had attended an S-Class meeting unannounced — and was apparently having his needs paid for by a famous rookie hero to boot. The man was a walking S-Class hero magnet — a huge outlier in the hero world — and it felt much too devious for the girl’s liking. There was something there that the esper was just not seeing.

“Hey, baldy,” Tatsumaki said loudly, still laying down. The baldy in question looked up from his manga, staring dubiously at the esper’s hair. The esper couldn’t help but wonder what he was reading.

“The name’s Saitama,” he said, cutting her train of thought. “What do you want?”

“What’s the deal here?” she asked, eyeing him.

“Huh?”

“I mean, the deal. ” Tatsumaki said. “Why the cyborg’s your disciple. Why Silverfang likes you. What did you do to get them to hang around you like ants to sweets?”

“Uhh,” Saitama raised an eyebrow. “Nothing…?”

Tatsumaki didn’t buy it.

“Did you… save them or something?” she asked, eyes widening. Oh, that was devious .

“Hmm,” Saitama placed a finger on his chin. The name Silverfang didn’t ring a bell. Maybe he was one of the heroes that fought the Deep Sea whatchamacallit. “I think so, why?”

“If you’re thinking of getting me to follow you around just because you… urgh… ‘ saved ’ me, you can just drop it. Right now.” the esper said icily.

“What’re you talking about?” the baldy said, putting his manga down. “I’m not asking you to do anything.”

“You don’t need to keep up the ‘I’m so honorable’ charade, baldy,” Tatsumaki sat up. She was sick and tired of hearing him act all clueless and innocent. “You’re a B-Class nobody, and I’m Class S rank 2. I have connections. I have influence. I have money. You brought me here, injured. Was it out of the goodness of your little twenty-five year-old heart? Of course not. What do you want?”

No matter what the B-Class asked for, she wouldn’t give it to him. Tatsumaki simply loathed talking to fakes. The sooner the esper was able to ascertain his desires, the sooner she would have peace of mind. And the sooner she could remove the nagging feeling in her head that she could actually trust him. 

Waiting for an answer, the esper turned her emerald eyes to Genos. The cyborg’s dish-washing had considerably slowed as the conversation continued, Tatsumaki noted. Genos’ head was turned up, listening intently. The kid seemed to really trust his sensei. Maybe the bald man’s answer would change that.

“What do I want, huh?” Saitama said, eyes turned to the ceiling.

Soon, all ears were on the baldy. Thinking for a moment, he rubbed his chin with his pointer and thumb.

“Ah!” He nodded, smacking the side of his fist on his palm. “I have it!”

“What?” Tatsumaki asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Hmm… You have psychic powers right?” the bald man asked. There was an ominous glint in his pupils.

The esper nodded tiredly. ‘There it is.’

“Then,” he said, standing up. He walked over to the desk, rummaging around through some neatly stacked papers. As he stumbled about, Tatsumaki caught a glimpse of his Association papers, some receipts, and a very harshly-worded hate letter written in red ink. His hand lingered over the letter for longer than usual. Was he targeting someone?

A few moments passed as Saitama searched his small, cluttered workspace.

“Ah, found it!” he exclaimed. “Okay. Hear me out…”

‘Here it comes.’ Tatsumaki rolled her eyes.

“Come grocery shopping with me tomorrow!”

Saitama proudly held out a flyer for a sale — “ This Weekend Only! 40% off on Vegetables and Dairy!!”

“Huh?” The green-eyed esper blinked. “ G-grocery shopping?! Pffffft—! ” She managed to contain herself, half out of stubbornness and half out of care for her injured ribs. It came off as a very soft-sounding scoff. “That’s it?!”

“Hey, it’s not just any old trip to the store!” Saitama said defensively. “Forty percent is basically half-off! We’d make a steal here! Imagine how much we could carry with your powers!”

“That’s so stupid!” Tatsumaki said, lying back down. Even if she hadn’t laughed, her chest still hurt trying to stifle it. “I can’t even lift that stupid flier you’re holding right now! What, were you gonna make me float a bunch of veggies into your shopping basket?”

“I was, uhh, thinking more on milk,” the baldy looked disappointed.

On the contrary, the esper’s dark mood had completely vanished.

“Sensei, I will go with you!” The cyborg volunteered, splashing soap-water around the kitchen. Saitama waved his hand. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said, clearly deflated. He sat down in a corner and picked his manga back up. “It was just a dumb idea.”

As the baldy started reading and the cyborg finished up the dishes, Tatsumaki dropped back down on her covers for what felt like the tenth time that day.

She stared at the ceiling quietly, her mind whirling with thoughts, and her emotions jumbled.

Soon the apartment was dipped in a comfortable silence; the buzz of an electric fan was the only sound in the house. Once in a while, a page flipped and Saitama muttered under his breath.

Tatsumaki usually hated sleeping in new places. She found any bed that wasn’t hers, horrible — and sleeping with company was even worse.

But something within the esper had eased, loosened along with the peals of contained laughter that had escaped her moments ago. In the stuffy, dubious, and awkwardly-lit apartment, atop the thinnest futon she’d ever had the displeasure of laying on — for several hours at that — the esper found herself relaxing.

Sleep came to her easily, with the taste of a lovely dinner fresh on her mind.

Chapter Text

Tatsumaki was gently woken by the sound of a television turning on.

Bathed in the morning sun, the room looked quaint. Cozy, almost — save for the fact that she barely had legroom and she had woken up right beside the dining table.

With the sun came a warmth that permeated through the air, making the idea of getting up an awful one. The sharp pains in Tatsumaki’s body didn’t help with the matter, either.

The esper groaned as she sat up, feeling her bones cry in protest with every little movement. The table had been blocking her view of the small T.V., and she really had nothing better to do than watch. From the corner of her eye, she saw the baldy lying sideways, holding the remote loosely.

Saitama was watching the news. And as expected, it was all about the events of the previous day. A female reporter was speaking, her forehead wrapped in a bandage not unlike the one the esper wore.

“The Hero Association has assured us that construction of a new headquarters is underway — one that will guarantee the protection of its tenants, as well as the quick deployment of heroes to any city,” the girl read calmly. “The planning has not been finalized yet, but there have been speculations that the S-Class rank 6 hero Metal Knight will be the one to remodel the building. He has proved time and time again to be capable and very diligent with his construction work, and there is no doubt he will meet the expectations of the Hero Association — he isn’t the sixth ranked hero just for show, after all.”

The reporter bowed her head. “Despite this tragedy, the Association has taken immediate action and did their best to move forward. All we can do now is to trust our heroes to become stronger, and get ready for what may come in the future.”

Tatsumaki sighed. Despite the media’s assurance of the Association’s abilities, the entire ordeal was still an embarrassment to the S-Class and heroes as a whole, no matter what anyone said. Having been inside the windowless H.Q. as the aliens invaded, there was no way for the heroes to have known what was happening outside — and that was the problem. It wouldn’t change even if they made a bigger, better base. If enemies like the aliens continued to show up at the worst times, then tragedies would be unavoidable. Inevitably, anger among the civilians would rise. The organization — and by association, the esper — would look like a joke. Not to mention, if another monster like Boros appeared… 

The esper put a hand on her bandaged throat, feeling her airway tighten instinctively in response.

Tatsumaki took a deep breath and swallowed the tenseness down. She didn’t want to think about it.

The reporter continued speaking.

“We have some worrying news, however. The Association has recently confirmed that the S-Class rank 2 hero Tornado of Terror has not been seen since she entered the alien spacecraft yesterday. The rubble of the crashed ship has not been cleared yet, and a search team has been sent out to try and find her. It is likely that the Tornado of Terror was behind the ship’s destruction and the aliens’ defeat — and for that we are eternally grateful. The search team is working as quickly as they can to find her.”

The feed cut to interviews with the heroes that stayed in A-City after the ship’s destruction. Some had even joined in the search effort.

“She’s a tough one, that Tatsumaki-chan! Her psychic powers will keep her safe, for sure. All we need is to find her quickly!” Puri Puri Prisoner gave a thumbs-up to the camera, then went back to lifting huge chunks of the ship’s purple metal. “Angel Carry!!”
“Tch, the esper’s a handful, but there’s… guh… no way she’d kick the bucket after just an explosion like that.” Metal Bat said, his trademark sports tool switched out for a shovel. He was digging fiercely as they spoke. “She’s got… urgh… fighting spirit — and we need to fight right along with her! Raah!”

Tatsumaki frowned. 

Despite her injuries, the esper’s head was clear enough to read the situation. The heroes needed some positive attention after such a loss — and the whole ‘esper rescue’ situation would bring about exactly that. If someone suddenly showed up and informed the media that she had already been rescued, it would meaninglessly put the Hero Association in another embarrassing spot. They were just doing their job right now — it was best to let them be.

It didn’t mean she liked it, though.

“Hey, they think you’re still inside the ship,” said Saitama after a while. He had a slightly different train of thought as the reporter spoke. That is to say, he didn’t have one. “That’s a problem, right?”

The esper’s eyes turned to the baldy. She shook her head.

“This is fine,” Tatsumaki told him, sighing. “We can leave them be.”

“Huh? Why?”

“They need to show their competency,” the girl explained, sneering at the heroes’ futile attempts at finding her.

The baldy didn’t really get what she was saying. “A lot of people think you might be dead. Isn’t there a way to tell those guys that you’re okay?”

Tatsumaki waved her hand, annoyed. “But I’m not. I’ll tell the Association eventually. Don’t worry about it.”

“Eh,” Saitama shrugged. A lot of what the esper said didn’t really make sense. And it wasn’t like they could just shout at the T.V. screen that the esper was okay. “I guess you could ask Genos to do it when he comes back.”

Tatsumaki looked around. True enough, the cyborg wasn’t there.

“Huh.” She figured that it would be better if she didn’t show up in public until the information was revealed. Genos, being a trusted hero in the Association, would be able to report it without too much trouble. All she needed was to give the cyborg proof to bring with him — maybe a phone? Tatsumaki thought about it for a bit. With all the problems the Association was dealing with, it would be a risk for them if they didn’t absolutely confirm the esper’s safety. She might end up needing to personally show that she was alive.

“What a headache,” muttered the esper under her breath, rubbing her temples. It was much too early in the morning for stupid Association matters.

Tatsumaki’s stomach seemed to agree.

“GRRROWL,” it said in confirmation. Saitama looked over to her.

“Want some eggs again?” the baldy asked.

“Ugh.” Tatsumaki held her stomach angrily.

Taking it as a ‘yes,’ the baldy stood up and walked to the kitchen. He rummaged around, preparing the things he needed to cook. A bowl. Salt. Pepper. And… as Saitama searched around for a fork to whisk with, he heard the fridge open. The baldy found himself face-to-face with Tatsumaki, who had pulled two eggs from the refrigerator.

“What?” she asked, glaring.

“Do you even know how to cook?” Saitama asked, pulling a fork from the dish-drying rack.

Tatsumaki scoffed, closing the fridge door.

“I took care of my little sister when we were younger,” Tatsumaki said, then paused. She seemed surprised at herself for speaking. “Which is none of your business, by the way.”

“Okay,” Saitama said. He turned a knob to heat up one of the stove’s burners, placed a pan on top of it, then poured oil on the pan. He held his hands out for the two eggs. “But still, you shouldn’t push yourself.”

She refused to give them to him.

“I’m fine,” the esper said. It was a lie, of course; every inch of her body felt sore — even just opening the refrigerator was infuriatingly difficult. But she’d be damned if she was gonna let this guy have his way. She strained to keep the eggs away from the bald hero.

But he was quick. And didn’t care that he was touching the esper’s hands without her permission.

“You’re really not,” he said, managing to wrest one free from her grasp. He cracked it over a bowl and started whisking it with a fork.

“Tch.” The green-haired esper floated her own egg above Saitama’s bowl and cracked it neatly with psychic energy. It dropped down with a small splash.

“I thought you couldn’t lift anything with your psychic powers yet,” Saitama said, turning to point at her with the fork. Tatsumaki made a twirling gesture with her pointer finger, and the eggs whisked themselves evenly.

“That was yesterday, dummy,” she said, ignoring the sudden pain in the middle of her forehead. “I’m all… better now.”

The baldy raised an eyebrow, watching her face for a moment. After a while — and a pained facade of strength from Tatsumaki — he went back to whisking the eggs.

“Hey, could you heat up some rice for us?” the baldy called.

The esper raised a finger again, the bowl glowing green as its insides mixed about. Saitama looked at her accusingly.

“You heat the rice,” Tatsumaki said stubbornly.

The baldy picked up the pan and poured the yellow liquid onto it, completely overpowering the esper’s psychic grip. Tatsumaki tried to reach for the pan with her hand, but Saitama put a hand on her shoulder.

“C’mon, we gotta work together here,” he said, trying a more patient approach with the esper — just as Bang had advised. “You need to keep yourself from straining, right? I’ll cook, and you get the rice. That way you won’t need to tire yourself out.”

The esper huffed angrily and brushed his hand away. After a moment, she turned and headed to the refrigerator.

It was surprising how well that worked.

The magnetized door creaked open and Tatsumaki looked around. It wasn’t that difficult to find the leftover rice from the day before — the fridge was practically empty. There were some vegetables in the chiller, a few condiments laying about, and some juice, but that was about it. The container for the rice was placed neatly beside some cartons of juice. Tatsumaki grabbed it and emptied its contents out inside another bowl.

As the rice heated up inside the microwave, the esper sat on the counter.

“Can you get the chopsticks and stuff?” Saitama asked her, grabbing some salt behind her. “I’m almost done.”

Tatsumaki sighed and hopped off. She muttered something about straining herself, but the baldy didn’t quite catch it.

Looking around for the utensils wasn’t that easy, considering the two of them were in the tiniest kitchen she’d ever seen. Tatsumaki bumped the baldy more than a few times as she searched in the unfamiliar little room.

“Ow! Could you…” the esper made to push Saitama, trying to open a drawer, but he didn’t budge. “Maybe move a little?”

“Ah.” He stepped back a little, careful to adjust his grip on the pan.

The esper looked at a drawer’s contents in dismay.

‘First the fridge, now this?’

It was basically empty again, save for a few differently-sized plates, two bowls, and a little plastic utensil holder.

“Have you ever gotten your hero pay, baldy?” Tatsumaki asked him, grabbing two pairs of chopsticks.

“I think I have. Why?” Saitama replied.

“A B-Class hero with good earnings should be able to afford an apartment somewhere decent,” she said.

Saitama frowned. “Yeah, and?”

Tatsumaki looked at him. “You’re no small fry. There’s no way you can’t afford something better than this dump.”

Ding! The microwave seemed to agree.

“Gee, thanks,” Saitama said, grabbing the rice from the appliance and setting it on the countertop. Just like the day before, the esper’s ability to talk her way into an insult was spot-on. Was this her idea of small talk?

“And Genos should be earning a lot, too,” the esper continued, oblivious to Saitama’s dwindling patience. “You should move out — find a place in a better city, or something.”

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you need to lecture me,” said Saitama. “Besides, this place was real cheap.”

“Whatever,” Tatsumaki said, rolling her eyes. She shook her head as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving the baldy alone and a little bit annoyed.

The two sat down in the living room, looking at their handiwork proudly. The table was set up elegantly, and the food looked just as delicious as yesterday. With a wave of her hand, Tatsumaki floated some mayo and nori bits onto her scrambled egg. As expected, it gave her a headache.

“So,” Saitama said, in-between bites. “When do you plan to leave?”

Tatsumaki glanced at him, narrow-eyed.

“When I can use my powers again,” she said. “And when I can move without much pain.”

“And that’s gonna take how long?” he asked.

“Two weeks. Probably.” She took a bite.

“Two… weeks…?” The baldy looked pained. Two weeks was a long time.

“What?” the girl asked, voice rising. “You were the one that said I could stay here.”

“Yeah, but you don’t seem to like it much.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tatsumaki, scowling. “I’m even helping you cook!”

“I dunno. You always seem so… restless,” Saitama said, chewing. “You know, if you’re gonna be here for two weeks, you need to relax.”

The baldy made it sound easy. Of course he did.

“Relax?! Like there’s any way I can ‘relax’ right now!” The esper was incredulous. She leaned over and jabbed a finger sharply at Saitama’s chest. “Listen here, baldy! I don’t know if we watched the same news report a while ago, but everyone thinks I’m dead! Making breakfast with you didn’t suddenly change that!”

The baldy tilted his head. “I thought you said not to worry about it?”

“I told you not to worry about it,” she said, pouting as she looked away. “Just let me be!”

The esper sat back and ate angrily, refusing to meet him in the eyes.

It seemed that just because the baldy didn’t want anything from her, it didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Judging from everything she’d seen, it seemed likely that he simply didn’t care enough to want anything in the first place.

And here she thought she had found someone she could tolerate.

The bald hero watched as the esper ate, steam practically streaming from her forehead.

Saitama didn’t know what to think of her, and it had been that way since the beginning.

He still recalled how rude she’d been when they met, and could name a time she’d been rude to him every hour after that. Sure, she’d mellowed out a little around the time of the invasion, but that was because she was injured. And she was still somehow just as hard-headed as ever.

But her frustrations — at least, her current ones — and the fact that she wanted to handle things all on her own…

It was all too familiar.

Faint memories from years past fluttered like butterflies in the bald hero’s mind.

A ripped up blue track-jacket. Blood dripping on an apartment floor. A broken leg and an empty wallet. Crude bandages and a half-month long limp. Simmering heat. And that long-forgotten frustration.

Saitama looked at Tatsumaki, her outfit torn and body completely wrapped in gauze. The news was still on; here and there the situation around the esper was brought up. Every time it was, Saitama could see Tatsumaki’s eyes grow darker.

‘Two weeks really is a long time.’ he thought to himself.

Faint as his memories were, it was impossible to forget his time as a hero-in-training, pushing himself too hard and becoming injured time and time again. Through the fog of dulling emotions, Saitama remembered the regret of wasted time as he healed. The directionless anger at a situation he couldn’t control.

And, most of all, the dread at having to face an uncertain future alone.

Seeing the esper grow tired of the media’s empty assurances of her safety to the public, Saitama picked up the remote.

The TV shut off with a click.

Tatsumaki watched as the baldy stood up, grabbed a manga from a shelf behind him, and dropped it in front of her.

“Here,” he said, sliding it towards the esper. “I’ve been reading it since yesterday. It’s kinda nice.”

“What,” Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes. “Are you doing?”

Saitama shrugged. “Anything’s better than watching the news.”

“I told you to lay off,” she said, pushing the book back.

“I think you’ll lik—“

“Lay. Off.”

The baldy stood there, thinking for a minute. The esper was shocked to see him like that — she didn’t know he could think at all.

“Fine,” the baldy raised his hands in resignation, clearly having come to a conclusion in his mind. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“What?” The esper didn’t realize what he meant by that until she heard some shuffling and rustling by the apartment’s entrance. The baldy was about to go out, discount flyer in hand. Apparently ‘leaving it to you’ meant actually leaving.

“Lock the door behind me,” Saitama said.

“Hey—” the girl began.

The door shut quietly, and Tatsumaki was left all to herself.

The esper went to reach for the remote, but pulled herself back. Like it or not, the esper admitted that continuing to mull over her situation would give her a headache — or at least, a worse one than she already had.

Also, it seemed the baldy had taken the remote with him.

* * *

Thud, thud. Thud, thud.

The sound made Tatsumaki jump. There were muffled voices outside — and they didn’t belong to the two dopes she was currently stuck with. Standing up and turning her head towards the door, she tried to make out what they were saying. The two spoke with an air of urgency.

“Are you sure this is Mister Genos’ address?” one of them said, voice shaky. “W-why would he want to live in the ghost town?”

“I don’t know. But when the Association sent for him yesterday, they gave me this street. It was just luck that I found him in Sir Bang’s dojo,” another replied matter-of-factly.

‘Association members,’ Tatsumaki realized, shocked. Had they come to ask Genos about her whereabouts? They had arrived much sooner than she’d anticipated, and it was all because she didn’t take into account that the cyborg living along with the baldy was an S-Class hero that had fought in A-City. The esper silently cursed.

“Alright, so knock,” the jittery one said.

“Fine,” the calm one replied. A few muffled footsteps later, and the esper saw his shadow under the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Tatsumaki was left in an odd situation.

Of course, she had only two options: first, and most appealingly, was simply not to answer the door. If she left them alone, they’d probably give up. Genos had been gone quite a while, and the odds of him coming back right now weren’t high. She would continue to be suspected as dead, and the two workers would be on their merry way.

But then, they would probably come back and try again eventually. And without her calling the shots whether or not to answer the door. That was a… small setback to her plan.

The esper huffed and bit her lip.

Knock, knock, knock…? The sound was less confident that time.

Screw it. Option two it was.

The esper unlatched the door.

“Ah, Mister Gen— Miss Tatsumaki?!” a nervous looking man in a suit almost spit out a drink that didn’t even exist. His bespectacled colleague did a double-take. The man’s relaxed demeanor turned completely over its head.

“Y-y-you’re alive!” he stammered, blinking several times to make sure his eyes were working properly.

Both of the workers looked at each other and instantly brought out their phones, no doubt about to contact H.Q. Both simultaneously made to press the emergency call button, but they didn’t quite make it that far.

The two gadgets glowed green and flung themselves out of the men’s reach, falling down into the ground far below. The two workers winced as the crunching noise hit their ears.

“What are you doing, Miss?!” the man with glasses said.

“Keeping you two from making a stupid mistake,” the girl said, holding her bandaged head. The pair made to reply, but the psychic held up a finger to stop them. Literally. Their black ties glowed green, tightening around their necks enough to make them as uncomfortable as possible.

“Listen here,” she said, pulling the two closer with a gesture. On the surface, her expression was cold. Inside, however, the esper’s mind was whirling, trying to come up with a plan. “Tell Sitch… that I was able to leave the ship by myself. Tell him to tell the heroes that, too. But… tell him to tell the media I was saved. Got it?”

The two workers nodded in fearful obedience, and the esper nodded in return — a gesture made in self-assurance more than agreement. If all went according to plan, the heroes would never realize she’d almost gotten killed, the media would gain a little more respect for the S-Class — the peers she was unfortunately compared to — and most importantly…

“Don’t tell anyone where I am either, or I’ll personally see to your twisting,” she said, twirling their neckties into spirals as a demonstration. “Okay?”

Again, the two nodded. The two didn’t know what she meant by that odd word, but her hero name hinted that that it wouldn’t be a good thing in the slightest.

“Good,” Tatsumaki said. “Now get out.”

The two obeyed meekly, bowing away from the esper. They briskly headed back to the headquarters to tell their colleagues the news.

And most importantly, the esper continued, she could recover alone and with no disturbances. All she needed to do was not to talk to Fubuki until she’d forgotten all about the whole ‘I’m sorry’ business. That wouldn’t be too hard, would it? After the esper could fly again, there was nobody in the world that could track her.

She smiled smugly. Even if she was terrible at dealing with people, she surprised herself with her quick thinking. Maybe talking to the baldy had gotten her used to speaking with people who didn’t have a clue what was going on.

As the esper made to walk back into the apartment, she heard some talking on the street below. It seemed the baldy had finished shopping.

In Saitama’s arms were two of the biggest plastic bags she’d seen. One of them was full of green vegetables — it looked like he’d bought enough to feed a zoo. The other was completely stretched out by jugs of milk. How the plastic was able to contain it was a complete mystery. Perhaps they were slime monsters he’d bullied into carrying his stuff.

“You two looking for rooms?” Saitama asked the two men in his way.

“Uhh,” the nervous one replied. “Not exactl—”

“‘Cuz I know somebody that can hook you up with something really cheap.” Any of the bald man’s hand gestures was lost in the sea of leaves and milk. Anything he said was blocked out by the sound of plastic and crunching leaves. “The landlord said that if I get more people to stay, all our rent’ll go down. So how about it?”

“Sorry,” the bespectacled man said, patting the baldy’s shoulder. He didn’t understand a thing Saitama said. “But we really have to go.”

The two went off, leaving the bald man to shrug. The two enormous plastic bags heaved as he did so, causing him to flail about trying to regain balance. The man’s reflexes were the only things that kept his discount haul intact.

The esper smirked and went back inside.

“Um, Tatsu-whatsit, can you open the door?” a muffled Saitama spoke.

“It’s Tatsumaki, baldy,” she replied, heading to the entrance.

“Katsu-Maki,” Saitama said. “Let me in. I got my hands full.”

The door swung open.

“What did you just call me?!”

“I was joking,” the baldy said, stepping in sideways to fit the food. “Thanks, Tats.”

The esper huffed and walked back to the living room as Saitama headed towards the kitchen.

“You took the remote,” she accused as the man tried to find a way to stuff the unholy amount of vegetables in the fridge’s chiller.

“I, uhh… sorry,” he said. Leaves were still sticking out of the chiller, but the hero left it be. Grabbing the remote control from his pocket, he tossed it through the kitchen pass-through. “There ‘ya go.”

The esper caught it with her psychic powers and placed it on the small center table.

“I also took care of the whole ‘I’m dead business,’” she said. She had half a mind to apologize for her outburst earlier on, but pushed the feeling down.

“Ohh, was that why there were two Association guys downstairs a while ago?”

“Yep,” the esper said. “If you recognized them, why did you try selling them an apartment?”

“Hey,” the bald man said, now trying to fit all the jugs of milk in the fridge. It wasn’t turning out quite well. “A discount’s a discount. Rent or groceries.”

The esper rolled her eyes. Leave it to the baldy to make it all about money.

“But, uh, congrats, I guess?” Satiama said, giving up and closing the fridge. “You seem kinda more satisfied now.”

“Huh?”

The bald man walked into the living room.

“I can tell from that little smile you made while I was on the street,” he said. “Well, either that or you really liked seeing me fall.”

“It was your own fault for buying so much,” the esper said. “Of course you’d look funny flailing all stupid-like.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, noticing the manga on the table. There was a piece of folded scratch paper ledged in-between a few pages near the start of the book. He picked it up.

“So,” he said, opening the manga up using the crude bookmark. It seemed the esper had followed his advice and relaxed a little. Somehow, that put him at ease. “Do you like the story so far?”

The esper looked over to him.

“Well, it did give me some ideas,” she said. “Spirals really can be creepy.”

“Tell me about it,” the baldy said. “When I saw your hair the other day, I nearly freaked.”

“Oh,” the esper looked smug. “I thought it was because you were jealous I had any at all.”

“Why you little—!”

The remote — and the dark cloud brought about by the television — was quickly forgotten.

Chapter Text

“I am home, sensei!” Genos opened the door to the small apartment and stepped into the narrow hallway with his usual vigor.

No response. He tilted his head and inspected the area.

The air was quite stuffy, no doubt caused by the blazing afternoon sun for the past few hours or so. Unsurprisingly, the familiar high-pitched buzz of a small electric fan could be heard from the living room. The cyborg’s master, although completely immune to any damage extreme temperature would normally inflict on humans, found mild noon heat completely and utterly dreadful. Genos once suggested using the air-conditioner built into the house, but Saitama refused him. He said that succumbing to the pleasure of air-cons led to a weak mind, and not one day had gone by without the cyborg drilling this mantra into his head. The buzzing of the electric fan was a symbol of his master’s mental strength and fortitude.

It had also been on sale.

Genos heard other noises trickling into the hallway, too: the faint sound of a show on TV, occasional ruffling of feet against futon, and, most obviously, arguing. Lots of arguing.

“Stop complaining about the story!” a shrill female voice blared out from around the corner. “Who cares if each volume ends in a cliffhanger, huh?! It’ll be finished eventually!”

“You don’t know that!” the cyborg’s master replied, just as loud. “There are a lot of manga that are on hiatus ‘till who knows when! Ending stuff in cliffhangers makes those breaks double-bad!”

“Psh! Then find something else to do! Complaining about that small of a matter is stupid!”

“You’re complaining right now!”

They seemed to have been going on long before Genos had come into the house — and as such, his greeting went unheard. The cyborg had half a mind to interrupt the conversation and berate the psychic, but as he passed through the kitchen, a more pressing matter presented itself.

It seemed that the fridge wasn’t fully closed. Strange Many white plastic handles and green leaves peeked out from inside. That was even more unusual. Had a monster gotten into their apartment somehow? Some kind of leafy-legged, plastic-faced creature seemed to have entered without the two arguing heroes hearing.

Genos promptly went to inspect it. Readying his hand blasters, he opened the fridge door as quickly as possible, hoping to catch the monster off-guard.

What greeted him was Saitama’s conquest.

“I see. Sensei has procured an exceptional amount of vegetables and milk,” the cyborg muttered to himself, wide-eyed. In his time staying at his master’s apartment, Genos had never seen such a haul. “Incredible…!”

“How could you like that last chapter?!” Saitama said, sitting across the esper. After the bald man returned from shopping, the two sat back down on the small center table of the living room. Their bowls from earlier that morning had yet to be placed in the sink. “Other than the cliffhanger,” the baldy explained, hands upturned. “There was, like, no character development!”

“Don’t go waving that term around like you know what it means! It’s obviously building up to the actual meat of things!” the esper said, crossing her arms. “Needing to wait doesn’t make it bad, dum-dum. Let the author take his time to make the story good!”

“Pfbfhbt.” Saitama blew a raspberry and turned around to watch TV.

Tatsumaki picked up the manga she was reading. After the esper finished the spirally horror story, she looked around for something else to read. Rummaging through the baldy’s shelves quickly informed the girl that Saitama’s tastes were very… blunt. Lots of action, lots of thrills — lots and lots of boooooring. Eventually, she stuck with one about samurai from a long time ago. The art looked nice, but the characters were noticeably less… atomic than the ones she knew. They were probably even weaker than Kamikaze’s disciples.

Of course, the baldy often butted in while she was reading. They’d talk — well, argue — for a few minutes before she angrily picked the book back up. After a few aggravating back-and-forths about the nuances of storytelling, the bald hero finally decided to give up. He figured that watching TV was a better use of his time than trying to talk to the esper.

Admittedly, the type of chatter they were making was better than their exchanges before this whole staying-at-Saitama’s-place ordeal. It wasn’t much better, but at least Tatsumaki didn’t look like she wanted to kill him anymore.

There were snippets of silence as Saitama flitted through channels, and that’s when he heard it. Someone was rustling in the kitchen.

“Genos? You there?” Saitama said, carning his head toward the cooking space.

“Yes, sensei!” The cyborg stood up so that his master could see him through the pass-through. “I am home. It seems you have been busy while I was away.”

Saitama made his way to the kitchen.

“You mean Tats over there?” he said out of the esper’s earshot, tilting his head in her direction. “Yeah, I left her alone for a bit, and it really helped her calm down. We’ve been talking a bit. Her taste in manga sucks.”

“I meant the sale, sensei,” Genos corrected him. “I see you have acquired an exceptional amount even without the esper’s help — the most I have seen so far! It seemed an optimal gain in terms of filling out our storage space, but after some careful arrangement, there still seems to be more room in the refrigerator.”

“Yeah, I managed to buy everything I could carry,” the bald man said. “I’m surprised you fixed the stuff up so well.”

The cyborg looked down, frustrated. “Had I been there, I would have been able to help you carry more and fill the refrigerator completely. My apologies, sensei!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Saitama said, absentmindedly scratching his stomach. “Hey, how about we make snacks after you’re done with that?”

Genos nodded vehemently. “Yes, sensei!”

The cyborg saluted as his master walked back into the living room.

The bald man passed by the reading esper and went back to watch TV. He clicked carelessly through the channels, boredly switching from ad-filled show to ad-filled show. For a moment, a cactus documentary caught his eye, but the commentary was a little too sharp for his tastes.

The remote tipped and tapped as Saitama continued to be unimpressed. Little snippets of channels popped up like a slideshow: an anime about some hero school, another documentary — this time about octopi, some cartoon about cockroaches, news about Tatsumaki, a knife-selling channel, basketball—

Wait.

Those knives were on sale.

The bald man quickly clicked back to the previous channel, waiting to see how much money he’d save if he called their number on the phone.

“Oi, baldy!” a certain green-haired esper flicked his shiny head. “I heard my name on the TV! Go back!”

Saitama rubbed the back of his head numbly.

“I thought you were reading,” he said, not looking away from the TV. There! If he called now, he would save a few hundred yen! 8-7000-565—

The remote glowed green, and the screen cut to the news.

“… Tornado of Terror seems to have been found by the S-Class heroes! Her location is currently undisclosed, but—”

“NOOO!” the bald man clicked back to the previous channel, but the number was gone. Defeated, he clicked back to the news. “Ugh…”

The newscaster continued. “… The Association will send further details about the matter as soon as they can, but rest assured, Tatsumaki will be able to do hero work again. Our Ranked 2 hero will continue protecting the world!”

Tatsumaki nodded slowly. Everything seemed to be going decently. All that she needed to do was wait until she had recovered and everything would go back to normal. She’d leave the cramped little apartment and have the Association provide her with accommodations until she had new housing. They owed her one after helping raise the people’s faith in them.

The remote glowed green, and the knife show returned.

Genos stepped out of the kitchen, rolling his robotic shoulders.

“Sensei, about the snacks you mentioned… what exactly will we be making?”

The bald man turned his head.

“Oh. Uhh, eggs again, I guess?”

“When are we not having eggs?” Tatsumaki interjected.

“When we run out…?” the baldy replied. “Hey, what’s with that look on your face!? You want some candies or something? That’s unhealthy, you know.”

The green-haired girl frowned. “Stop answering your own rhetoricals! I’m saying that eating eggs all day until you don’t have any is stupid!”

“There’s no actual meat in the fridge,” Saitama shrugged. “So you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Are there no restaurants anywhere nearby?” asked the esper.

“Nope,” the baldy said. “And as far as I can tell, you don’t have a wallet to split the pay anyway.”

“Ugh!” The esper rolled her eyes and went back to reading her manga.

Saitama went to make eggs with his disciple.

“Sensei,” Genos said, whisking eggs with mechanical precision. “You seem to be bothered by Tornado.”

“Kinda,” Saitama replied.

“She seems able to move around without assistance anymore,” the cyborg continued. “Why not just ask her to leave?”

Saitama heated a pan in silence, and the slow sizzling of the oil began to crackle in his ears. His disciple’s question didn’t go unheard, but he didn’t quite know what his answer would be.

To be frank, the company wasn’t that nice. Tatsumaki was loud, grumpy, and probably the most stubborn person he knew. She kept refusing his help, liked being left alone, and insisted that she was fine even though she clearly wasn’t. So why was he putting up with her?

Was it because she always had that worried look on her face when she thought no one was looking? Was it because arguing was better than wasting away at home? Or… was it because he felt sorry for her?

No. Not really. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t that simple. It was there — a shadow of a shadow at the back of his mind — but he couldn’t be bothered to find out what it was.

Genos handed him the bowl in silence. Its whisked contents were free of any bubbles and the consistency was absolutely perfect. The cyborg assumed that his question had gone unheard, or that he’d hit some kind of sore spot with his sensei. It wasn’t that important of a matter, anyway.

“I’m letting her stay until she’s fully recovered,” Saitama said, pouring the egg carefully on the pan. “That’s it, I guess.”

“Hmm,” the cyborg looked at his master. The bald man’s expression was almost completely the same, but his eyebrows seemed to be furrowed — just a few millimeters lower than usual.

Genos made a mental note to regularly check on his master’s mental wellbeing until the esper left.

After a few minutes of speaking to Genos about the best way to cook the eggs and following his disciple’s recommendations about the amount of salt, pepper, and discount milk to add…

“Eggs are ready!” Saitama called out, making the esper peek up from her book. He walked over to the table, bringing steaming bowls of eggs on rice. They looked appetizing — more so than his previous work. It had been around a week since the baldy had asked Genos to teach him how to make eggs properly. With Saitama’s ability — or lack thereof — to learn new things, didn’t turn out too well in the beginning. Far from it, actually. But the cyborg’s efforts had eventually paid off. It seemed the student had finally been able to teach something to the master.

“Excellent work, sensei!” he said, a small smile gracing his features. His master gave him a thumbs-up.

“You call this a snack…?” Tatsumaki muttered. She much less enthusiastic about all of this than they were. Everything about the cyborg’s obsessed attitude was draining to her.

She put her manga aside, allowing the baldy to excitedly slide a bowl over to her.

After all, it wasn’t as if she didn’t like eggs.

* * *

“Heh.”

The old man chuckled as he watched a familiar Association member climb the many thousand steps up to his dojo. It was always a joy watching the corporate, business types doing things they weren’t used to. The workers usually reached his doors stripped of the… ‘unique attitude’ that graced many people of their standing.

They could honestly use the cardio, too. All that time spent in cramped office spaces wasn’t good for anyone’s health.

“Huff… huff…” The worker took burdened breaths as he reached the top of the mountain, holding his knees to keep himself standing.

As if the events during the past two days weren’t enough, what with a city’s destruction, the angry threats from the esper that supposedly saved it, the outburst of Sitch during his report, and just about everything else, he had to walk up a thousand godforsaken steps, too?! His bespectacled colleague wasn’t even assigned to Z-City, either! The world was turning completely crazy!

As the previously-nervous-but-now-mostly-aggravated man went to knock on the dojo, the thin sliding door opened. It seemed the hero he was looking for was already expecting him. With all the noise he’d made walking up the steps, he wasn’t at all surprised.

“Ah, you made it,” Silverfang smiled under his moustache. “What can I do for you, young man?”

“S-Sir… haahh… Sir Silverfang,” the man held up a hand, trying to catch his breath. “Huff… huff… Ehrm— ahem! We have found Tatsumaki! She is safe, and has informed the Association as such!”

Bang’s eyebrows rose. To the worker, it was a little gesture of relief. He had seen a few of the old man’s rare interactions with the esper, and it seemed he was one of the only heroes she respected. Undoubtedly, Bang felt the same — and would be thankful to hear that his esteemed colleague was safe.

Of course, reality was different; the gears turned quite differently in the martial artist’s head. There were only so many ways that the Association could have gotten that information, the hero knew. And there was only one outcome that made sense with what he’d seen of the esper the day before.

She was with a certain bald man in Z-City.

“My, what great news!” Bang said wholeheartedly. He patted the worker’s back, nudging him away just the tiniest bit. If his suspicions were true, then it was in his best interests to check up on them as soon as possible. If those two got into an argument… well…

Perhaps his dojo and its humbling staircase would cease to be. Along with the rest of the city.

Despite the growth it could bring upon the two heroes, Bang wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to bring the two together for too long of a time.

“Er… that’s not the only reason I came, sir Bang,” the worker said. “There’s also this. Hold on…”

He rummaged around a little bag he’d toted all the way up to the dojo, bringing out a plain-looking envelope from inside. Bang received it and promptly inspected it. It was a little creased from the man’s journey up the mountain — which some could consider rude — but the old man cared little for such things.

“Hmm.” Bang opened it.

“It’s an invitation, sir,” the man explained in summary. “As a thank you from the Association, and a celebration of Tatsumaki’s… safe return. An entrance ticket and address have been provided in the envelope.”

“How thoughtful,” the Rank 3 hero nodded in appreciation. He could really use a little relaxation after everything that happened yesterday. It had been too long since the martial artist had taken a well-deserved break.

“I’ll be going then, Sir Silverfang,” the man said, interrupting Bang’s musing.

“Mmm, so soon?” the old man raised an eyebrow. “And after all that effort?”

The nervous worker looked away awkwardly.

“Well, it’s quite important, sir,” he said. “You’re not the only hero in Z-City, after all.”

“You’re talking about Genos, I presume?”

“Er, yes! Him, and, um,” he fumbled inside his bag, bringing out three envelopes. “Some guy named ‘Saitama?’”

“He was with us during the meeting. I believe he participated in the fight against the aliens,” Bang said thoughtfully. He noted the other envelope — the worker hadn’t revealed who it was for. “Say…”

The martial artist trailed off.

“Uhh, say… what, sir?” the worker gulped.

“Why don’t you leave the envelopes to me, young man?” the hero smiled. “I’d love for an excuse to meet up with a few colleagues. I’m well acquainted with young Genos and Saitama, after all.”

“I-I’m afraid the contents of each individual envelope is highly confidenti—”

Bang put an arm around the nervous man. It was iron-hard, full of scars, and tight. It scared the living daylights out of the tired worker. 

“Come on now, what’s so important that the Rank 3 hero can’t know about? Some addresses and tickets?” the martial artist said lightheartedly. He ignored the sweat pooling around his guest’s forehead. “You can trust me.”

“Ah— umm— w-well, I…”

“You can trust me,” Bang repeated.

The worker from the esteemed Hero Association had witnessed the destruction of A-City. He had been on the tail end of Tatsumaki’s threats. He had been able to walk thousands of dojo steps.

Silverfang’s friendly smile somehow felt worse than all of those combined.

* * *

“See? It’s not all that bad,” Saitama said to Tatsumaki, who was puffing her cheeks. The small table was empty, and Genos had taken the dishes to the sink. The sun had sunk lower into the sky, and the room was lit in golden-hour light.

“Puh,” she let out her breath. “It’ll get bad soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the bald man scooted around to watch the TV. “You finished it, either way.”

Knock, knock, knock.

Saitama sighed and stood up to get the door.

“I’ll get it, Genos,” the bald man said. He held his hand up, signing for his dripping-gloved disciple to go back and wash the dishes.

“Don’t open the door fully!” Tatsumaki whispered aggressively, clamoring to place herself away from the hallway’s

“I always answer the door like that,” Saitama said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you afraid of anyway? The cops?”

The baldy opened the door as Tatsumaki instructed.

“Unless you’re selling knives,” the baldy said, peeking through the small gap. “I’m not buying.”

“Young Saitama!” To the baldy’s surprise, a familiar martial-artist greeted him. “Care to let me in?”

“Ah! Hey, Bang.” Saitama gestured for him to come inside. Tatsumaki probably wouldn’t mind. “Did you bring any hotpot?”

“My apologies, but no,” Bang shook his head. “I just came to check in on… ahh.” The man paused, seeing the little green-haired girl peep from across the hall. “It seems Tatsumaki is here, then.”

The girl stepped out of her hiding place. “Silverfang? Silverfang?! Who told you I was here?”

“You don’t need to worry yourself,” he said, putting up a hand. “I’ve come with good news, actually.”

He held out three envelopes for Saitama to take. The baldy opened the one addressed to him and began to read it.

“Funny, really,” Bang said, walking to the esper. “An Association worker passed by to tell me that you were fine, and—”

The girl interrupted him. “What?! The Association told you where I was? Who else knows?!”

“Just me,” Bang said reassuringly. Needless to say, Tatsumaki wasn’t reassured. She knew how people acted when she was about to get angry — they lied. Always.

The esper’s mind flooded with thoughts. Had those two idiots from that morning told on her? Did Sitch reveal her situation to the heroes? Did they know her location?! How else could Bang have found her?!

“Ugh!” Tatsumaki felt a vein throb in her temple. She knew she couldn’t have trusted the two fools who’d come to her hiding place. If she hadn’t answered, then she would have had time to recover and come to the place herself! What had they said; who had they told?

Did Fubuki find out?

“Who. Else. Knows?” the esper glowed green, her bandages falling to the ground. The tightly-knotted headband that Saitama tied unfurled and tore into pieces. The ground began to shake.

Bang’s eyes widened. He’d seen Tatsumaki annoyed often enough — on occasion, he’d seen Tatsumaki angry. At least, he thought he did.

But the look on her face wasn’t normal. Her eyes were filled with fire.

“Believe me, the information is still highly confidential,” he said, reaching for the girl’s shoulder. She swerved violently away and began walking to the door. “I, hey— Tatsumaki, where are you going?!”

She turned around, the floor cracking under her power.

“I’m gonna find those two snitches. And twist them.”

“What?! Tatsumaki, you can’t—”

“This is none of your business.”

Bang felt a massive weight around him, gripping his body like a straightjacket. He couldn’t move. 

Genos, who was about to intervene, was promptly brought to his knees by psychic energy. The floor sank beneath his weight.

“Stay here until I’ve talked to Sitch,” Tatsumaki said, eerily quiet. “If you so much as step one foot outside of this apartment… I’ll know.”

The esper blasted the door open with psychic power.

And felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Oi, stop with the psychic stuff.” Saitama said, unaffected by the increase in gravity. “You’re ruining my house.”

“Stay out of this!” the girl said. “Or I’ll—”

“You know, if you let Bang finish what he was saying,” Saitama said, not letting the esper finish what she was saying. “You might not have come to your own conclusions.”

Saitama held out a piece of paper from the envelope Bang had given him.

The reason Bang had come to the little apartment was mostly out of apprehension. He had a feeling that the two stubborn heroes would have a difficult time getting along, and that any argument would cause quite a bit of commotion for a lot of unfortunate people.

From their interactions in the Association and beside the ruins of the ship, they didn’t seem to be able to last too long talking to each other. Saitama seemed quite fine with it, but that was when he had the option of ignoring the girl. Living with Tatsumaki was a different matter altogether, and that fact worried Bang as soon as he left the ruins of A-City just the day before. The two felt like a ticking time bomb, and Bang just knew they needed a little more guidance to iron out their differences enough to work together and hopefully not explode. But his being there seemed to almost have caused it. As soon as he felt the psychic gravity push down on him, he realized he’d made a mistake.

Seeing Tatsumaki taking the note and reading it, somehow giving into Saitama’s wordless request, the tired old martial artist realized that they didn’t need his help, after all.

“What’s the point of this?” Tatsumaki smacked Saitama’s forehead with the paper, which stuck to him under the heavy gravity. “How is this supposed to calm me down?!”

“It’s an invitation,” Saitama said, pulling the envelope off like a fridge magnet. “Sent by the Association.”

“So?!”

“It was addressed to us.”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. “Stop acting all smart! Spit it out!”

“That’s how Bang knew where we were, duh. The address is right here.”

He was about to show his proof, but their address wasn’t there. 

“Wait, no, that’s not right…” Saitama said, looking confused. The esper tapped her foot as the baldy muttered to himself. Was he just lying to stall for time? “I know I saw it somewhere…

“Ah! Here it is!” the baldy put the paper down and showed the psychic a torn envelope with the name ‘Saitama’ written on it, along with some lines for his address. “It was on the envelope! Bang could have just gotten the envelopes from that Association member he was talking to and found us from there! See? Nobody told on you, and more importantly, no need to break the floor.”

Tatsumaki turned to Silverfang.

“Is that true?” she asked him. Bang nodded slowly.

“Just about,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Then everything is fine,” Tatsumaki said, breathing her own relief-filled sigh. She closed the door and walked back into the hallway. She stared daggers at Bang. “Don’t butt into my business like that again, got it?”

The old hero nodded slowly.

Satisfied with Bang’s answer, the esper dropped to the floor, exhausted.

She promptly fell asleep.

“Sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused,” said Bang sheepishly. “I’ll handle the costs for the floor. And the doorway.”

“I’m counting on it,” Saitama replied, nodding. “Next time you visit, maybe don’t bring good news, okay?”

The old martial artist chuckled as he opened the door. He paused for a moment, then turned back around to face the baldy.

“By the way, how did you know I actually did all that?” Bang asked. As far as he knew, Saitama wasn’t the perceptive type. Was he mistaken about that, too?

“Dunno, just had a feeling,” the baldy shrugged. “But my floor was getting messed up, so I had to do something, you know? Flooring is expensive, man.”

Oh.

“Well, yes it is… ehrm, I’ll be off then,” Bang patted the bald man’s shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

The door shut quietly.

“Sensei,” Genos asked as Saitama walked back into the living room. “Do you not think it is unwise to keep the esper here? If she has another outburst, it might not only be the floor that is damaged.”

Saitama mulled over his disciple’s words, staring at the gashes on the floor beneath his feet, and the small crater left by the kitchen’s entrance.

Then he turned to the esper, sleeping with shallow breaths. She was still completely covered in bandages, and the one around her forehead was stained worryingly with fresh blood. Her little display hadn’t hurt just his floor, it seemed.

“As long as Bang pays for the damages, it should be fine. I don’t think she’s gonna do that again,” Saitama said quietly.

“How are you so sure, sensei?”

“There’s no way she wouldn’t be relaxed after reading the Association’s invitation,” the baldy smiled, waving his envelope in the air.

The cyborg frowned.

“Wouldn’t a public celebration be more stressful, sensei?”

“Who said anything about a public celebration?” Saitama said, picking up the paper he dropped a while ago.

“We’re all going to a hot spring!”

Chapter Text

“… And please, feel free to visit the dining hall any time you wish.”

The middle-aged owner of the building smiled warmly as he finished his welcoming speech and spread his arms towards his precious guests. The guests in question, twelve S-Class heroes in total, mumbled about in their yukatas. They seemed less eager than he would’ve liked.

The man twiddled his beard thoughtfully.

The man — or rather, the heroes’ host for the next two days — was someone who had been in the business for many years. As such, he was no stranger to dealing with people of high esteem. Be it actors or actresses, leaders or athletes, the man had steeled himself and entertained his guests without so much as a hair falling out of place. It was a necessity for his business to bloom — and bloom it did. After years and years of grand celebrations and humble gatherings, the man had seen it all. At least, he thought he’d seen it all.

In his famed resort that very day, were the S-Class. Arguably the most dangerous, powerful people on the planet. That… well, that was something he hadn’t seen, ever.

The man knew that they were mostly secretive — which gave rise to rumors upon rumors surrounding them. The heroes were incomplete at the moment — the top-ranked hero Blast, the second-ranked hero Tatsumaki, Metal Knight, Drive Knight, and Genos were all invited, but currently not in attendance. He secretly hoped that it would stay that way. That was because the stories he’d heard about the ones present scared him enough.

Puri Puri Prisoner. An unbelievably powerful inmate who escapes maximum security prisons with ease — and was said to assault any man who catches his eye. The Association was rumored to keep him under mind control so as to keep him from attacking. Sometimes, though, even that didn’t stop him.

Tank Top Master. The leader of the Tank-Topper group, and the embodiment of delusion. He apparently led cult meetings for his fellow Tank-Tops, and has been trying to recruit more and more members in order to overthrow the Association. His strength was frightening.

Zombieman. Pig God. Watchdog Man. Flashy Flash. All of them were supposed to be heroes completely trusted by the Association, but their recent inactivity during the alien invasion gave rise to even more doubt around circles of skeptics. They were said to have gone off to solve different problems that came up in other cities, but their claims were dubious.

The man knew they were just rumors, but for a business owner with as many connections as him, it was best to think of any guest as a glass half-empty. Both sides of the coin were considered, and that way the best preparations could be made.

There wasn’t much of a chance that they would get thrown over the edge in such a relaxing place, he knew. But even still, a bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

There was just one wild card. Something he could never prepare for even if he tried.

The Tornado of Terror.

A veritable risk to host according to many of his peers, she would be attending the celebration as well. If all the other heroes had a risk of around 5% taking into account the rumors surrounding them, Tatsumaki would be around 50%.

Very stuck-up, high standards, and the occasional bouts of anger that came from seemingly nowhere! If he was given the chance, he would humbly reject letting her in. Unfortunately, he found that the celebration revolved completely around her. The Association was paying a very reasonable sum for the whole ordeal, and there was no way he would refuse every S-Class hero a stay. He didn’t have a choice.

Just thinking about the next few days was giving him indigestion.

“Well, make yourselves at home!” The man spoke with practiced elegance. “But not too at home, okay? Once again, we welcome you to our humble hot spring!”

As the man took a deep bow, a few of the S-Class chuckled. Soon, they all went on their way.

Walking out of the large entrance hall and from the heroes’ view, the man took a deep breath.

He walked to a waiting attendant and listed instructions for each of the heroes. She jotted them dutifully down in a small notepad and scurried off to spread the word.

As she disappeared around a corner, the man let out a deep sigh.

“Gods help me,” he muttered, still hoping that the present heroes were all he had to deal with. If anything happened, his business would pay the price.

Whichever gods he prayed to — they weren’t listening.

* * *

“I already told you, I’m going in ahead of you two idiots! Stay behind for a few minutes so we don’t get associated.”

The esper put her hands on her hips as they walked. The baldy sighed.

“You’re still on that?” he asked, tilting his head. “We’re late. No one’s gonna care.”

“Why take the risk in the first place? There’s no poin—”

“Sensei!” The cyborg cut her off, urgently pointing to the street. The large backpack he was carrying made the quick movement ungraceful.

“Yeah, Genos?” the baldy turned to look. The esper scoffed.

A bright red convertible made its way past the three heroes, the wind from its passing ruffled their clothes.

“Red car!”

“Oh, red car! That's… uh… What’s our score again?”

Tatsumaki slapped her forehead.

The three were sauntering along a relatively rural sidewalk, where there were just as many trees as buildings and flat fields as far as the eye could see. It was like walking into a painting; the yellows and greens of the flora complemented by the grays, whites and browns of the houses along the road. The only break to the beautiful flat scene lay in front of them: small hills that rose gently, splashes of red and white hinting towards a well-tended array of paths. A larger patch of red caught the esper’s eye. There seemed to be a small temple half-hidden beneath the canopy of the nearest hill. A faint, winding path could be made out from it — and it led straight down to where the three were headed.

Across the street, a few blocks northwest from where Tatsumaki was walking, a traditional-Japanese looking building quietly sat, nestled between the plains and the hills. Steam rose lazily up behind it — the hot spring, no doubt. It was a quiet indication that the building was different from the rest of the town.

Of course, it also stood apart in size. It was a grand building among a sea of humble houses — much larger than Tatsumaki expected. It looked to be around three floors high and decently wide. That meant there was a lot of space to move about inside.

Despite the little esper’s dour mood, she found herself smiling a little. It would be a blessing to be rid of the strain she’d built up in the baldy’s cramped little apartment. A moment to stretch her legs, a moment to take a dip in the water, it was hard not to look forward to it.

Swoosh…

A car drove slowly past the three heroes — a non-red one, thankfully — reflecting late-afternoon light around the heroes. The esper was brought sharply back into reality.

The three were an hour and a half behind the scheduled arrival time. It was mostly the esper’s doing, but she would never admit to that. To summarize the problems and arguments the three had, the esper thought that going to a hot spring in her condition, frankly, was stupid.

That is, until she found out that Sitch would be there, too. After all the worry he’d caused the girl, she was very much looking forward to meeting him face-to-face. Maybe fist-to-face, once the esper was done with him.

“So… you’re gonna go, then?” Saitama asked before they left, already dressed in his most formal t-shirt (a plain white tee with a printed-on tie).

“Yep.” Tatsumaki’s dark smile was met with a step backward from the baldy.

Some quick preparations, a very awkward taxi ride, and a long walk later — left the trio at the present: currently walking towards the resort. A dark-colored car passed by.

“Ah, red car!” Saitama pointed. “That’s… what, 23?”

“Sensei,” Genos’ eyes flared yellow, analyzing the vehicle passing by. “It seems to be more plum than red.”

“Wha—? No! That’s definitely…”

Saitama walked over to Genos, ready to argue about the intricacies of hue. Tatsumaki was left to groan.

A small green aura enveloped the esper and she began to hover above the ground.

Even if it had been a few days since her… floor-cracking outburst, flight still took a toll on the esper’s body. The moment her feet left the sidewalk, a painful ring echoed inside her head. She pressed her head, hoping that it would go away.

“Hey, are you supposed to be flying already?” Saitama raised an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you talking about cars or something?” the esper asked. The bald man was surprisingly perceptive when the esper didn’t want him to be.

Tatsumaki flew off towards the large entrance gate, hoping that the two would get the message and not try to catch up.

The sensation of flight relaxed the esper to no end. The familiar breeze against her cheek, the calm, cold wind against her hair — she’d missed it. It was a shame that the sensations were so short. It seemed that she had already reached the entrance of the hot spring.

The girl landed as gracefully as she could. Which, at the moment, wasn’t all that graceful at all. The esper’s legs, already very much unthankful for the whole ‘walking’ business she was putting them through, didn’t appreciate her landing at all. They almost buckled underneath her.

An attendant in a yukata — who seemed to be expecting Tatsumaki — ran briskly to support the pained esper. She held out her hand.

“Miss! Welcome!” the short-haired girl said breathlessly. “Please, allow me to—”

The esper shook her head.

“I’m fine,” Tatsumaki said, wiggling her aching legs one by one. “Where’s my room?”

“Oh…? A-ah, yes! This way please!” The girl nervously led the esper inside.

The smell of leaves and air-purifiers filled the halls as Tatsumaki walked beside her jittery guide. The interior was exactly as the esper expected; a thoroughly-waxed floor, a variety of plants, and thin sliding doors — fusuma, if the esper remembered correctly. Everything was all freakishly well-kempt.

Occasionally, the girl would spot a worker darting through the main passage and into another sliding door to the left, looking quite busy. Sounds of utensils and dishes could be heard from where they entered. Probably the dining area, then.

The esper was led up a flight of stairs at the right end of the hall, where she was met with another series of sliding doors and wooden walls. A few attendants were going around, seemingly very rattled. The esper wasn’t surprised. Anything that involved most of the S-Class population would be rattling, in the least. The girl recalled interacting with her ‘peers’ once in a blue moon, and she could safely say that they were all… eccentric.

The esper’s attendant swiftly brought her train of thought to a stop as she opened a sliding door nearest to the stairs. That was to be her room, the esper figured.

“Please make yourself at home, miss.” the girl said, confirming Tatsumaki’s suspicions.

The esper’s guide pushed the door open, bowed, then left. Her quick steps pittered softly down the stairs, heading off to who knew where.

Tatsumaki walked inside her room: a white, beautifully plain area that was surprisingly well-matched with the esper’s taste. A low bed laid on the far-left corner, with a small desk and TV set placed across it on the right. In the middle of the room was a short-set circular table with enough cushions for four. All good and well, but it wasn’t like she would invite anyone into her room.

The wall beside her sported wide cabinets, which would be great if the esper had any belongings to put inside. Seeing as to how her house — and all those ‘belongings’ — had been blown to smithereens, the cabinets would just be there for show. There were a few towels and pink yukata folded neatly in the bottom, however. They looked more comfortable than the ragged dress she’d been washing and reusing for the past couple of days.

The idea of wearing the same beat-up dress had never appealed to the esper, but she had no choice. Admittedly, there was always the option of borrowing some of the baldy’s clothes, but that was a definite no-go. When Saitama asked her about the matter, she’d said that she would rather wait for her clothes to dry than wear anything he had. After seeing a bunch of the baldy’s outfits (especially that absolutely atrocious oppai hoodie), she quickly realized the man had zero fashion sense.

Compared to all those, the pink yukata in the closet looked appealing. It was brighter than what she usually wore, but it was fine. She folded her torn-up dress and placed it inside the cabinet. After walking around to see if it fit, the girl explored the room further.

A door on the left wall led to the girl’s bathroom. It was a regular resort-style bathroom: a narrow affair with a sink, toilet, bathtub and shower. Neat.

Now that everything was settled, it was time to look for Sitch. Her mission was to find out exactly what his two little helpers told him. That, and to beat him up.

“Miss Tatsumaki!”

A man the esper didn’t recognize came to greet her, accompanied by the attendant that had left a few minutes ago. She’d told on her! The icy glare Tatsumaki gave the girl sent her into hiding.

“Now who are you?” the esper said, raising an eyebrow at the older man.

“The owner of this humble hot spring home,” the man replied, smiling. It looked fake. “You can call me Ona.”

“Uh huh. What do you want?”

“Firstly — and most importantly — I’d like to know if everything is well in your room,” he said smoothly.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Tatsumaki waved her hand in dismissal. “Hey, if you own this place, do you know where Sitch is?”

“Ah,” the man looked up in thought. “Unfortunately, I do not. However, I may have something else that—”

“See you, then,” Tatsumaki walked past the man and down the stairs.

As the esper went out of view, the man let out a deep breath.

“Oh, dear,” Ona said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His attendant peeked at him from around the corner. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”

“Whdtchd duim obur thbr, Tdts?” The bald man walked up to the esper, holding a few sticks of food that were all half-eaten.

“I’m busy. Your mouth is full,” Tatsumaki began. “Go away.”

“M’kae,” the man shrugged and left, probably to grab more free food. The esper shook her head, baffled.

“Anyway!” The green-haired girl turned back to face the young man she’d been speaking with before the baldy interrupted: a jittery lobby attendant who had been forced into conversation. Even though there was a desk between them, the man still felt as if he could be attacked at any second. “Tell me which room Sitch is in.”

The man shook his head vigorously.

“I’m sorry Miss, but we really can’t tell others whe—!”

The esper slammed her hand on the table, causing the worker to jump.

“This place is useless,” the esper muttered angrily, leaving the frightened lobby attendant to cower behind his desk.

Tatsumaki had been wandering the hot spring for a while, looking in vain for the Association authority. Asking around or just vaguely hoping for a sighting left the esper with absolutely zero information about the man’s whereabouts. It almost seemed like he wasn’t even there.

But he had to be!

He was the one who called them all to the resort — and it even said on her invitation that he was going to be there to organize some events! So where. Was. He?

The girl’s stomach, which rumbled just then, seemed not to care about her all-consuming obsession as of the moment. Tatsumaki groaned. Her half-hour long search brought her both empty-handed and empty-stomach-ed. Her mood was getting worse and worse!

The esper decided it was about time to take a break and headed towards what she presumed to be the dining hall.

As soon as she opened the double doors, she was met with a blast of different aromas, as well as the sight of several little buffet-style tables with a bunch of food.

A few heroes looked up from their tables, but Tatsumaki ignored them. She went off to get something to eat.

“So, did we ever find out who saved her?” Metal Bat leaned back on his chair, chewing a piece of meat. The two other heroes around him shrugged.

“The Association said that Tatsumaki-chan got out by herself,” Puri Puri Prisoner said, sipping a smoothie. “That’s probably what happened.”

“You must not be getting much news in jail — no offense, by the way,” Metal Bat added. “News says someone saved her.”

“Oh,” Puri Puri said, rubbing his chin. “How interesting.”

Metal Bat fiddled around with a toothpick. He didn’t like the devious look on the prisoner’s face.

“What?” he asked. Puri Puri smiled.

“Don’t you think she’s hiding something?” he said, glancing at the esper.

“Bah!” A self-proclaimed not middle-aged samurai finally decided to butt in. “That esper’s always hiding something,” he said, twiddling the blade of grass in his mouth. “What I want to know is what kind of creature she fought on that damned ship. That huge explosion, the whole thing sinking — now that’s gotta have been from something strong.”

The three sat in silence. It might have been easy to talk a few days after the disaster, but the sight they witnessed that day was far from faded away. During that last explosion, even for just a split second, everyone was brought to reality. Had Tatsumaki not been on the battlefield…

“Hey, what’s got you all so down?” A pale-skinned man walked over behind the heroes, carrying a tray of food. “Reminiscing about the battle?”

“Zombieman, was it?” asked Atomic Samurai, putting an arm around the back of his chair.

“Yep,” the hero replied.

“If I recall,” the samurai narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t there when we fought the aliens.”

The gray hero sighed and took a seat.

“Me and the other heroes were dealing with impromptu attacks everywhere else,” Zombieman explained. “Figured with the top 2, 3, and 4 heroes on the main stage, we could deal with those smaller problems by ourselves.”

“Tch,” the samurai said. “You’re lucky that we were enough for it.”

The gray-skinned hero raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t normal for Atomic Samurai to admit something like that. He coughed awkwardly.

The room became silent.

“Erm. Well,” Zombieman began, wanting to break the tension. “I’m glad we’re still here to celebrate, then.”

The other three nodded in consent, and the pale hero sighed in relief. A sour mood made for difficult conversation — and he couldn’t have that. He still had some things to ask them.

“Now,”  Zombieman leaned forward at Metal Bat and Puri Puri, sliding over some food to share. “What was that about the media saying Tatsumaki got saved?”

Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow at the small gathering of heroes at the corner of the room, but figured it wasn’t worth her time. Her meal had given her time to think more rationally. If Sitch was going to show up eventually, then there would be no use wasting precious recovery time on the matter at all. As much as she hated it, the esper concluded that the best option was to just… relax.

Going to the hot spring was the first thing that came into her head, but she decided against it. An evening dip was far more appealing to the esper than a late-afternoon one. The sound of crickets, the cold air, a starry sky — nighttime was just the better option. So that was a no-go for now. She’d already eaten, and a walk outside would just kill her tired feet. At the moment, there really wasn’t anything to do. So much for relaxing.

Back upstairs it was, then.

A short walk brought the esper back into her room. It was exactly as the girl left it. She headed immediately for her bed. As soon as she sat down, she could tell it was the good kind. The esper felt herself sink into the fabric. Slowly, she drifted off to slee—

“Where’s our room again, Genos?”

The esper snapped up. The voice came from outside her room.

“Don’t tell me,” she muttered to herself.

“Our rooms are separate, master. But yours is over here.” A sliding door could be heard opening to the room beside her, and the esper’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, right,” Saitama’s voice rang clear through the thin walls. “Guess we have to unpack. You can have the bag.”

“Sensei, are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Tatsumaki covered her ears with a pillow.

“But I am perfectly capable without it,” the cyborg reasoned. “Surely you would like to keep the backpack for ease of use?”

“I’m telling you it’s no big deal! Just take it.”

“If you insist, master.”

The two yammered on, and the esper’s eye twitched.

“Alright, let’s see,” Saitama said. “Here’s your toothbrush, and here’s mine. Okay, we— wait. There’s only one tube of toothpaste.”

“Keep it, sensei. There are tubes of toothpaste and soap in every bathroom in this resort. I will use those.”

The esper could practically sense the baldy look up in surprise. The drowsy feeling she had just moments ago completely disappeared. She sat up angrily.

“Wait.” Saitama’s voice raised a pitch. “Do we get those for free?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, we’re not gonna just sit by an—!”

BANG! BANG!!

The esper smacked her arm hard against the wall beside her, interrupting the bald man.

“Would you two shut up?!” the esper shouted. “Any louder and you’ll wake up the whole street!”

“Sensei is discussing a matter of utmost importance!” the cyborg replied angrily. “Do not interrupt his thoughts!”

“I don’t care! Talk downstairs!”

“Grrh!”

Saitama put a hand on his disciple’s shoulder.

“Calm down, Genos,” the man said in a whisper.

“Sensei?” the cyborg looked confused.

“She lives with us — think about it for a sec. If we play our cards right, she can get us some toothpaste, too.”

Genos’ eyes widened.

“How astounding…!”

He brought out his notebook and began to jot things down. Knowing that his apprentice would spend at least five minutes writing his thoughts on paper, Saitama grabbed the bag they brought and headed to the little green esper’s room.

Tatsumaki watched the door open in resignation.

“What do you want?” she said, rolling her eyes.

The baldy rummaged through his bag. After a few moments, a bunch of books plopped onto the floor.

“I brought something for ‘ya.” Saitama placed them on the table.

“Manga?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

The baldy scratched his chin.

“Think of it as payment,” he said distractedly, walking over to the girl’s bathroom. “I’m gonna get some toothpaste.”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes and walked over to the books. It was a bunch of volumes of a story she’d been reading in the apartment. While not particularly interesting, it was a good time-waster. The esper found just one thing odd, though. Why would the baldy even bring manga to a hot spring?

“I got it!” Saitama said triumphantly. In his hand was a small tube of toothpaste. He held a finger up to his lips. “Uhh, please don’t tell anyone about this. You can just ask for more, yeah?”

The man was just odd in general.

He picked up his bag and left.

Just. Really odd.

Alone in her room and hearing none of the bothersome baldy or his disciple outside, Tatsumaki decided to take a stab at reading.

It was pretty much her only time able to read in peace and quiet after the first time the baldy had left her alone.

Absentmindedly taking in the dialogue and scoffing at the choices the characters in the story were currently making, the esper found herself sinking more and more into the cushions of her bed.

The manga went downhill fast. Maybe the author had been put in editing purgatory, but chapter by chapter, no progress seemed to have been made in the story at all. What a shame.

It was a good thing there were other stories in the pile that Saitama brought for her. 

“For me, huh,” she muttered, recalling his haphazard way of explaining why he’d brought it in the first place.

She picked up another book.

“Hmm.”

She looked around the small pile.

They were all shonen stories — more his taste than hers. Some of them were stories he insisted were good, but the esper simply couldn’t stand.

He’d brought it for himself, then. Giving it to her was just a last-minute decision. In exchange for toothpaste.

How silly.

She picked up a book at random and opened it.

A few voices downstairs woke Tatsumaki from her light sleep. The esper groaned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes groggily. Everything felt wonky.

‘What time is it?’ The girl managed to gather her thoughts together after a while. A lethargic frown was plastered on her face.

The digital clock beside her room’s TV read 18:07. There were around twenty minutes until the S-Class gathered downstairs.

She seemed to have fallen asleep reading manga. There was a half-open book right beside her pillow.

‘Ugh,’ she thought. ‘When have I ever fallen asleep reading this kind of stuff?’

Before the esper could continue questioning her poor life decisions, the voices downstairs caught her attention. They were vague, but the tone of one man’s voice was completely distinguishable. It was slow, sure, and just a little stuck up.

Sitch.

Quickly, the girl popped out of bed and headed onto the first floor.

“Yes, if you could find her I— ah! Miss Tatsumaki!” The man named Sitch caught a shock of green and pink, immediately identifying the esper. Much to Tatsumaki’s surprise, he seemed unfazed to see her. She shook her head. He would be quite fazed soon enough.

“You,” she said angrily, putting her hands on her hips. “Mind explaining something to me?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the man’s temple, but he managed to retain his composure.

“Ehrm,” the man cleared his throat authoritatively. He seemed to have a plan in mind, and the esper had absolutely no intention to succumb to it. “I’d be glad to, but someone else has been wanting to see you for a long while now. It would be rude to steal you away from them.”

“I don’t care,” Tatsumaki began. “You and me are gonna have a little chat whether you like it or no—”

“Sister!” a certain raven-haired esper’s voice rang from across the hall. Tatsumaki’s eyes widened.

The esper began to take a few steps back, seeing Fubuki — face filled with worry — draw closer and closer. The green-haired girl looked at the older man in complete disgust.

“Sitch, you devious, big-nosed bastar—”

Chapter Text

“—d!” Tatsumaki growled.

“Let’s talk tomorrow,” Sitch replied, bowing. He smiled thinly and made to walk away, sure that Fubuki’s arrival would be enough to distract the S-Class hero. “I’m sure you’ve been wanting to meet your sister since the crash.”

After the raven-haired girl’s sudden announcement of arrival, the man had spent most of the day making preparations upon preparations for her — and some of her subordinates’ — lodging. Suffice to say, Sitch was not in the mood to be berated by Tatsumaki after all that hard work. He hatched a plan quickly, figuring that the smaller esper’s attention would be caught for at least a day.

Even if Fubuki wasn’t enough, the celebration with the S-Class would be. Sitch knew that Tatsumaki wouldn’t cause a stir surrounded by all the other heroes. The information was top secret, after all. Just twenty-or-so minutes of Fubuki keeping her older sister distracted was all he needed to escape.

Alas, upon the man’s very first step, his plan was foiled spectacularly. A ring of green energy tied his arms to his waist and froze him mid-pace.

“You stay here,” Tatsumaki said, pointing a glowing finger at him.

The man nodded in assent. He… hadn’t taken her powers into account.

With the matter settled, the green-haired esper slowly turned to confront her sister. Fubuki instinctively looked away under Tatsumaki’s fierce gaze.

The younger esper was a ball of anxiety. Days upon days of thinking and worrying had taken its toll on her. From the moment of the explosion, her sister’s powers — of which the raven-haired girl usually had no problem sensing, even from afar — had practically vanished into thin air. The news assured her that the heroes would find the girl, but she had her doubts. What felt like an eternity passed, and nothing still. Fubuki strained her psychic senses, trying to feel something — anything — that could possibly be from her sister.

Then it happened. On a desperate search around each and every city their group’s car could reach: she felt it. A little blip of psychic energy tugged at her senses — just enough to lift an egg, it felt like — but it was there. And undoubtedly her sister’s.

‘She’s alive!’ Fubuki thought.

But she made no move to stop the car. She didn’t attempt to discern where the signal came from.

‘She’s… alive…’

Fubuki’s initial relief quickly melted into fear — as it often did when she was confronted with the idea of talking to her older sister. A dozen questions floated around in her head like bits of bubbles floating along in a torrent. The very thought of talking to Tatsumaki made Fubuki’s soul churn.

But she had to know.

The apology, the explosion.

It felt like she had gotten the closest she’d ever been to seeing another side of her sister that she had never seen before. A hope within a hope resided in her that Tatsumaki would finally open up to her once they met. That they could have a real talk for once.

Sitch had personally contacted her before the media announced the green-haired girl’s safety. When she asked for details, the man only said:

“Tatsumaki has informed us that she has escaped the ship unharmed. Her location is undisclosed at the moment.”

That wasn’t much to go off of. Fubuki wanted to ask more about the matter — and was about to do just that — but the line had already disconnected.

“Find out where she is, pronto!” Fubuki turned around and said loudly, making her subordinates jump.

About a day later, they found out about the ‘hot spring’ meetup the S-Class heroes were having. A few pulled strings and a few hushed conversations later, and the Fubuki Group had arranged the perfect meeting place for the raven-haired esper and her older sister.

It was difficult convincing Sitch to let her come, but seeing as to how Atomic Samurai had seen to the A-Class Iaian’s inclusion, Fubuki knew it wasn’t impossible. Her stay was quickly arranged. A letter, a few days, and a car ride later, she had arrived.

It was time to talk to her sister. She had to find out the truth behind Tatsumaki’s words that horrible day.

‘Fubuki, I’m sorry.’

Her sister’s voice had been so soft. So full of regret.

What did it mean?

There she was, barely two meters away from her goal.

“Sister, I-I—” the raven-haired girl began.

“Fubuki,” said Tatsumaki. Her face was stony, as it always was. “I wasn’t told that you were coming.”

“W-well, no.” Fubuki’s heart was pounding. “I wasn’t supposed to, b-but I had to see you!”

“Why?” Tatsumaki frowned, and the air around Fubuki turned cold.

‘What did Sitch tell her?’ the older girl thought. Her mind buzzed with worry, a dozen more questions filling her head. But she couldn’t show anything on the outside. Fubuki could never see her weak. Never.

“W-why? Well, because…” Fubuki shied away from her sister’s gaze once more. “B-because…”

‘Because of what you said,’ she wanted to say. ‘Why did you apologize? What happened on the ship that day?’

Those unyielding green eyes bore into her. They churned her stomach, pooled sweat around her forehead.

“I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re okay,” the younger girl said breathlessly. She looked down and winced.

The girl couldn’t do it.

Tatsumaki sighed and walked off, promptly dropping Sitch to the floor.

Eyelashes and Lily walked over to their leader. They had been watching the interaction warily from the sidelines, and kept an eye on the two sisters in case anything started to become dicey. Thankfully, nothing came up that demanded their assistance. And to be frank, they knew they couldn’t take Fubuki’s older sister on anyways.

Lily quickly went over to comfort Fubuki, putting a supporting hand on her shoulder, but Eyelashes didn’t move. He was frowning.

“It’s okay,” Lily said, holding the raven-haired esper’s shoulder. She had been one of Fubuki’s only confidants during the time she had been looking for her sister. “You can ask her any time you want.”

Before Fubuki could reply, Eyelashes spoke up. His gaze was directed at the stairwell Tatsumaki went up.

“Did you see that, Miss?” he said quietly, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

“See what?” Fubuki asked, slowly pulling Lily’s hand away.

“Your sister let Sitch go,” he said. “And just walked away.”

The B-Class esper’s eyes widened.

‘You stay here,’ Tatsumaki had said before binding the man. Instead of seeing through with her plan to talk to Sitch, she’d left. Instead of floating, as the green-haired girl usually did, she walked.

It had probably been years since Fubuki had seen her sister walk around instead of floating — and it never meant anything good.

Unfortunately, the young esper didn’t have much time to think about it.

“Oho, you must be our honored guest!” a middle-aged man spoke, having suddenly appeared. One glance was enough for Fubuki to know that he was someone of influence. “I am Ona, the owner of this humble hot spring.”

“Thank you for having us,” Fubuki bowed, immediately switching gears. Her two subordinates, accustomed to their leader’s scheming, followed suit. “I apologize for our rushed arrival.”

“I will not hold it against you,” the man smiled, waving his hand dismissively. “Besides, I am fully aware of why you’ve come.”

“You are?” Fubuki raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Ona rubbed his hands together. “You’ve come to be able to talk with your sister. Is that correct?”

Fubuki nodded. So he was the type to do research on his own customers. How… flattering. And unsettling.

“Then I may be able to help,” the man said. He gestured for her to come closer. “You see,” he whispered. “I have learned that your sister is the type to… cause trouble around establishments like this — especially when other heroes are involved…”

Despite the strange amount of information this man seemed to be privy to, Fubuki smirked. Popular as her sister was, it seemed that her reputation was bad in at least one way. A way in which Fubuki prided herself in being absolutely perfect.

“But it seems you are able to calm her down whenever things get out of hand,” he continued. “If you can assure me that she doesn’t cause trouble after you speak to her — like I said, I can help you.”

The man had shown his cards, and it was then that Fubuki was left with a choice. What Ona said about her was true: she was someone her sister would at least hear out before doing anything rash. Usually things turned out well enough, but right now it seemed there was something going on with her big sis. Tatsumaki was in a fouler mood than she normally was in, and it seemed she had no intention of talking about it.

If Fubuki accepted Ona’s request and couldn’t keep her word, her reputation would be muddied. The man obviously had connections, and bad gossip spread around like lightning.

If she rejected it — and the girl was fully confident that she could do it while maintaining her grace — she would be left without a clue on how to approach her sister.

The girl tapped a finger to her chin as the man waited. Her two lackeys watched, confused.

A few moments later, Fubuki made up her mind. Her main priority was set in stone. Risky as it was, the best way to be able to do things in a resort was with the help of the resort’s owner himself. 

Tatsumaki was acting strange. An outburst was quite possible if Fubuki so much as stepped one foot in the wrong place. Her whole plan hinged on the chance that Fubuki could calm her unexplainably cranky sister down. It was a burning tightrope that she would be walking on willingly.

The young esper steeled herself. So be it.

“What kind of help did you have in mind?” she said, smiling with practiced grace.

“Hi…? Um, what’re you doing here?”

A blue-yukata’d Saitama, halfway ready to go outside and find something to do, was met with a little green esper opening his fusuma angrily.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she muttered, letting herself in. She looked quite breathless. “I should have talked to him then and there! Now he’ll just… urgh!!”

“Hello?” Saitama turned to face the esper as she walked past him.

“I need someplace to hide! Just leave or whatever!”

Saitama’s frown was almost imperceptible. Wasn’t the esper supposed to be strong? Who in the world would make her want to hide?

“Hide? From what?” he asked. “Like a monster or something?”

Tatsumaki looked at him like he’d suddenly grown hair.

“Don’t be stupid,” was all she said before beginning to mutter again.

Saitama shrugged. If there was one thing he’d learned about the esper, it was that she really liked being left alone. And it wasn’t like he wanted to deal with her when she was like that, either.

“Don’t steal my toothpaste,” the bald man said as he left. The sliding door closed with a soft thunk.

Tatsumaki absentmindedly paced the room. The clock read 18:12. She had exactly eighteen minutes to think of a plan.

If she’d known Fubuki would be coming, she would never have even thought about going on a trip. Celebration for her or not, she would have rather stayed in the box-like apartment alone than be in a world-class hot spring with her sister.

The alien’s planet-killing attack began to smolder in her mind. Hot, searing coals of memory eating away at Tatsumaki more than she would like to admit. The sense of despair she felt at that moment was absolute. A battering ram that slammed into her. And she’d crumbled. Under the weight of it all, the esper had let slip something that should never have reached her younger sister’s ears.

‘Fubuki, I’m sorry.’

The words made her nauseous.

She apologized. The esper basically admitted her complete powerlessness to stop an enemy — to the person she vowed never to show weakness to. And to top it all off, she was saved! By a damned B-Class nobody!

Tatsumaki found herself sitting alone in the center of the room, bathing in the wonderful sensation of feeling like garbage.

She had no plan to confront Fubuki. Any sense of her infallibility was thrown away the moment she said those three stupid words. All she could do was pretend. Pretend she was still strong. Pretend nothing ever happened on top of that horrible ship.

But they’ll find out.

You’re weak.

You lost.

You were saved.

The thoughts she suppressed were leaking out faster and faster. There was no manga, no TV, no eggs nor eggheads — nothing — to distract her from the growing flood in her mind. Fubuki’s mere appearance had prodded holes in her that even the stupid baldy couldn’t!

The clock read 18:29. One minute left.

Tatsumaki stood up like a puppet on a string. She couldn’t fly away; her little psychic binding on Sitch had been more taxing than she realized. And if she stayed inside, they would look for her before celebrating. There really was no choice.

The green-haired esper took a deep breath, then opened the door.

* * *

“… And above all, we can’t forget the hero that made all this possible.” Sitch raised a glass merrily. “To Tatsumaki!”

“To Tatsumaki!!!”

The small gathering of heroes on the third floor raised their cups in celebration, expectantly looking to the esper for a response.

“Yay,” Tatsumaki said. She raised her cup halfheartedly.

“Yeah!!” “Woo!!” The heroes chuckled at the completely expected reaction from the rank 2 hero, clinking their saké cups together and taking a swig in unison.

With the opening spiel done, the chatter soon settled down into a low buzz. Groups of heroes split up from the main circle and socialized in their own, odd little sets. Silverfang and Atomic Samurai exchanged stories of their pupils’ endeavors, Puri Puri, Tank-Top Master and Darkshine were trying to see who could rip their blue yukatas the quickest just by flexing, Zombieman poured some apple juice for Child Emperor, et cetera et cetera. It was a mishmash of positive interactions that frankly made Tatsumaki sick.

The girl took a sip of her saké and winced as the liquid burned hot down her throat.

“Ugh.”

The esper wasn’t usually partial to drinking. One horrible, vomit-filled night in the past was enough for the esper to learn that she was a complete lightweight, and she rarely drank ever since. Key word ‘rarely.’

As it was, the small, clear cup seemed to call to her that night. A wispy, flittering promise of thoughtlessness danced around inside the glass. The girl, who was swirling with muddied feelings, found it hard to resist. She raised the saké to her lips.

“Hey.” Saitama punched through her quiet thoughts, nearly making the esper spill her drink. He seemed to be in a good mood. “Why don’t you get something to eat? All you’ve been doing is sip from that little cup of yours.”

“Go away,” she said.

“You’re tipsy,” the bald man frowned, noticing her slurred speaking. “From just one drink?”

“Go away!”

Saitama frowned. Gears turned in his head but, just as before, he knew that it was a waste of time trying to get her to talk.

“You’ll regret drinking too much tomorrow,” he said, walking away. Genos followed briskly behind him, balancing his master’s enormous pile of food with surprising grace.

“Whatever.”

Tatsumaki refilled her little o-choko glass and drank it in one go. It went down much better than the first.

“She hasn’t had a bite to eat,” Fubuki half-muttered to her two colleagues, passing a bottle of saké to them. The girl eyed her green-haired sister, drinking alone across the room. Knowing Tatsumaki’s constitution, she was practically drowning herself in rice wine. “That’s her fifth one.”

“Do you think talking to her would make things worse, Miss?” Lily asked, pushing the bottle gently away. She wasn’t old enough to drink yet.

“I don’t know.” Fubuki sighed.

“I think you should go for it,” Eyelashes said, downing his seventh shot easily. “Talk to her before she drinks even more. Who cares about what that Ona guy said?”

“Hmm…” the esper bit her lip. “Maybe I should wait a little longer.”

The raven-haired girl looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the man anywhere in the celebration hall. Or was she supposed to be waiting for somebody else? The girl didn’t know. Her conversation with the middle-aged man was cryptic, to say the least.

‘“Does your sister like parties?”  he asked her.

“No.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for something she can’t refuse.”

The girl frowned. “And that’s supposed to help me, how, exactly?”

The man smiled. “Just wait and see.”’

And so the raven-haired esper was left waiting, trying her hardest to stifle the swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

Saitama walked past the straight-haired esper, wondering why she was holding her belly when her plate was clean as a whistle. He was on a roll; the bald man had been filling and emptying plates almost at will, taking full advantage of the free food the resort was offering to the heroes that saved A-City.

He walked over to the buffet, ready to strike.

Empty.

He frowned, opening another metal food holder.

Empty.

Much to the bald man’s dismay, it seemed that in the past few minutes, someone else was doing the exact same thing. It was the third chafing dish in a row that had been cleaned out before he could even take a single bit of food from it.

“What?! Where’d the food go?” Saitama asked, opening another dish frantically. “What’s happening?!”

“It seems that S-Class hero Pig God is on a similar conquest, master,” Genos said. He pointed to the enormously-built man across the room, carrying the metal chafing dishes and dumping its contents completely into his mouth. “Should we attempt to contest him?”

There was a long pause.

“No. No… no, no,” Saitama shook his head. He looked profoundly affected by the sight of the S-Class Rank 10 hero eating fried drumsticks in one go — bones and all. “I think I’m… ugh… good now.”

“Very well, sensei.”

As the two went back to their small floor-cushion and short wooden tray setup, a voice called out to them.

“Saitama!”

“Huh? Oh, Bang!” The bald man walked over to his older acquaintance. “How’s it going?”

“Kamikaze here wants you to regale him with your story in A-City,” Bang said, gesturing to Atomic Samurai. Noticing the bald man not understanding, the man quickly explained. “You see, I informed him that you had been able to go aboard the ship. At least, I assume you did?”

“Oh, yeah,” Saitama confirmed, catching the samurai’s attention.

“Astounding!” Atomic laughed. “It’s astounding how adaptable B-Class heroes are! So you were able to find a way aboard while we distracted the big boss down below, hah!”

“Sure,” Saitama said, already not liking how the conversation was going. “Is that all? Because I’ve still got some food that might get cold.”

“No, no,” Atomic Samurai waved a hand. “What I really want to know is what the enemies were like aboard the ship. Were any of them strong?”

“Nah, most of them were kinda boring, to be honest,” Saitama said. The swordmaster looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure?” he scratched his chin. “Well, Tatsumaki was on board, too. Maybe she beat all the strong enemies for you, eh?”

“Maybe. But — there was one really strong dude I fought,” Saitama said, raising a finger. Atomic Samurai’s ears perked up. “He had all these power modes and regeneration and stuff, kind of a cool guy.” 

“But you beat him?” the older man raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” the baldy’s tone turned just the tiniest smidge sour. “Yeah, I did.”

“Congrats, then!” Atomic Samurai smiled widely, not seeming to notice. “I’m glad there are some B-Class with guts! Next time, maybe you’ll be strong enough to take on a real regenerating monster like the one beneath the ship, hah!”

“Thanks, I guess,” Saitama replied, and Atomic Samurai began to laugh once more. Bang looked apologetic. “Well, I’ll be off then.”

The two older heroes raised a hand in farewell.

“That guy’s kinda stuck up, huh, Genos?” Saitama said, turning to his disciple.

But he wasn’t there.

‘Probably went to the bathroom or something,’ the baldy thought, not really taking into account that cyborgs didn’t need to pee.

‘Ah whatever. This party’s getting kinda boring anyways. Maybe I should just go and take a dip in the hot spring… it is free, isn’t it?’

The pale-skinned Zombieman prided his sharp ear above all else. As an investigator, he found that making a hobby of listening intently was useful in his line of work.

As soon as he heard the words ‘aboard the ship’ and ‘Tatsumaki,’ he knew that he’d found a person of interest. The man made his way to the simple-looking baldy talking to Atomic Samurai, ready to ask him a few questions.

Unfortunately, a metallic hand stopped him.

“Sensei is in a conversation,” said Genos, the newly-appointed S-Class. “Please do not disrupt him.”

“Oh, hey,” Zombieman smiled, filing the word ‘sensei’ into his mental vault. “You’re the newbie cyborg — Genos, right?”

“Correct. What business do you have with sensei?”

“Nothing important,” Zombieman said, scratching his head. “Just wanted to chat around.”

The cyborg didn’t respond.

“Well, speaking of chatting around,” the pale hero decided to change the subject. “I heard you blew up the House of Evolution.”

“Yes. What of it?”

Zombieman perked up. Even though it wasn’t related to the odd happenings with Tatsumaki, the subject of the group that made him their lab rat wasn’t something he’d pass up. “I have — had — personal beef to settle with them. Mind if I ask you about it?”

Genos looked over to his master, who was still talking to the two older heroes.

“Make it quick.”

“Great! Let me just grab my notebook…”

* * *

Nine. Ten drinks. Eleven.

Tatsumaki was calming down. A warm, languid fog surrounded her. The nagging voices that buzzed around were subdued in the smoke and haze of her mind. She knew that Fubuki didn’t like approaching her when she drank. Everything was fine. 

At least, that was what she told herself.

Before the esper could fill another cup, however, she felt a quick tap on her shoulder.

“Miss?” The voice belonged to the attendant that greeted the girl a few hours before. The sound seemed to echo in her ears.

Tatsumaki didn’t respond.

“Um, you seem not to be enjoying the celebration,” she said. “So we have prepared the hot spring just for you.”

The green-haired esper turned to face the girl.

“Prepared… as— hic! As in… empty?”

“Yes. You can relax in complete peace,” The attendant nodded.

Tatsumaki stood up, a little wobbly.

“F… fine.”

The two left the celebration hall, walking down two flights of stairs to the hot spring. Tatsumaki stumbled more than a little, but refused the help of her companion every time.

As two reached the first floor, the green-haired esper was led into a path directly ahead; if one came through from the main entrance, it was at the end of the hall and to the left. The pair then turned right, heading towards the back of the building. From there, the path split in two. The male and female bathing areas, of course. Two curtains billowed softly in the night wind — the pair took to the red-colored one.

As soon as Tatsumaki pushed through the rather wide entranceway, she was met with a blast of chilly air. As a traditional outdoor hot spring, there was no changing room in sight. A simple row of baskets on shelves lined the wall beside them. The showers were directly ahead. Finally, beyond the walls of the shower room lay the famed spring itself: a steamy little pool lined by rocks and bamboo, which overlooked the dark hillside to their right.

“I’ll leave it to you, then, miss,” the assistant said, bowing carefully out of sight. The curtain waved slowly as she left.

Finally.

For the first time in a long while, the esper was truly alone. No heroes, no baldies to annoy her. No aliens nor sisters to worry about. No Sitch. No Ona. Just a warm, perfect onsen waiting for her to take a dip.

“Haah…”

And dip she did.

The water was perfect.

When Fubuki saw her sister being led out of the room, she followed stiffly, unsure of what was about to transpire. The ‘signal’ was sending an attendant to lead a drunk Tatsumaki away from the only group in the world that could possibly stop her? What was Ona thinking?

The girl trailed behind, eventually reaching a red curtain swaying gracefully in the wind. A voice that wasn’t her sister’s muttered something, then carefully opened the curtain. She looked at Fubuki.

“Ona wishes you the best of luck,” she said, hurrying off.

The raven haired girl took a deep breath, peeking through the fabric into the hot spring.

There she was. The small green-haired esper that stood atop the hero world, her shoulders and hair glinting in the moonlight — the milky onsen waters lapping gently against her skin. It was like setting eyes upon a mythical creature in a forest. The serene look didn’t suit Tatsumaki at all.

The raven-haired esper bit her lip.

Fubuki always had a hard time approaching her sister. Ever since they were little, the older girl would always be the one who decided when the two would talk. And considering how Tatsumaki wasn’t too keen on social interactions, they rarely ever had a conversation.

The raven-haired esper was completely fine with all of that, of course. She had more than enough time to get used to it. Her sister dealt with things alone — that was the first thing she learned. Whenever Fubuki spoke first, ninety-nine out of a hundred times she was told off. The remaining one percent were arguments. Not a good set of statistics, everything considered.

But she’d never seen Tatsumaki so off before. Walking instead of flying, basking in silence instead of finding something to do — it was unlike her! The conditions were different, so it just made sense that the statistics would be, too. Right?

“Ugh…”

The girl stepped forward, feeling the heavy curtain push against her.

“I… was told I’d be alone,” Tatsumaki said, looking at the straight-haired esper across from her. It had been five minutes since her younger sister had joined her. Five minutes basking in the hot spring without speaking a word. “Why aren’t I?”

Fubuki shook her head.

“I-I need to talk to you.”

“Ged— Get. Out,” Tatsumaki said, stifling a hiccup.

“P-please, sister. I want to talk.”

“I’m not in the…” the older esper held her head. “Ugh… Not in the best mood, Fubuki.”

The girl shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I know something happened to you on that ship.”

“Sister,” the younger esper said. “I want to know.”

“I-I want to know why—”

Fubuki froze under her sister’s gaze.

‘I’m sorry.’

Was that really something that the girl in front of her would say? The icy sister that never once acknowledged her, much less found the need to explain herself. A flash of doubt struck Fubuki. Had she imagined it all? What if it was just a trick of the mind?

The girl sighed as she sank herself down into the water, bubbles rising up to the surface.

‘Why can’t I do this?’

“If you’ve… hic…! Got nothing to say, ‘den leave,” Tatsumaki said slowly. Her state of mind — already cloudy — was especially overcast now. “I’m not puttin’ up with your nonsense.”

“Did you… say it… or not?” Fubuki managed, clutching her stomach. She wouldn’t meet her sister’s gaze.

“What are you talking about?” the esper replied, carefully making sure to get her words right.

“T-the day A-City got destroyed!” Fubuki was flustered. “You said- you— ugh, you apologized!”

“Absoludely not,” the green-haired girl shook her head. “I beat them and the ship exploded and thad’s that.”

Nothing was making sense. Fubuki shook her head. “Then why—”

“Fubuki…” Tatsumaki warned.

“Sister…” Fubuki pleaded.

“Leave.”

The younger girl shook her head. She had found her voice, however small it may be.

“Please,” she began. “I need to—”

Tatsumaki didn’t care.

“You need nothin’!” the esper spat, words a jumbled mess. “You jus’ want — hic! —to prove to yourself that I’m weak! Thad maybe you can help me wid some dumb words and… and your lid’l stupid group! Ged real!”

Fubuki abruptly stood up.

“I see…” she said, face covered in shadow. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Goddamm rite,” Tatsumaki said.

The raven-haired girl changed and left, not uttering a single word. The red curtain billowed in the breeze.

Before Fubuki could make it around the corner, a worried-looking attendant appeared in front of her.

“Was it a success, ma’am?”

Fubuki scoffed.

“It’s clear that there’s only one thing she hates in this place,” the esper spat, walking past the girl.

With a body covered in scars and burns, the only thing that would make someone arrogant enough to lie despite it all — was pure spite.

The waters of the onsen rippled gently in the moonlight. Pillowy steam rose from the milky depths and into the sloping hills surrounding the spring, carried into the starry night sky by the cold breath of the night.

Basking in the sight — the drunk esper vomited.

* * *

“Thanks for the info, Genos.” Zombieman smiled, tucking his notebook inside his yukata.

The cyborg nodded, standing up from their little face-to-face.

The rookie hero was surprised how persuasive his S-Class colleague was. Zombieman had managed to acquire a plethora of details about the illegal experimentation site, and had even pulled off a deduction of the possible whereabouts of Genus. According to the S-Class, there was another genetic experimentation group he was investigating. There was little doubt that the scientist, his facility destroyed, would set his sights on that other group next. The regenerating hero was a good listener, and Genos was embarrassed to admit that he’d used quite a bit more than the optimal twenty words while speaking with him.

The cyborg would be even more surprised if he’d known what the detective hero was actually doing. While listening to Genos’ story, the man had also been taking notes of the chat between Saitama and Atomic Samurai across the room.

As Genos walked away looking for his master, Zombieman’s smile melted away.

“Something’s definitely up here…” he said.

* * *

In the center table of her room, Tatsumaki sat silently. She thought she would feel relieved. The trouble was gone. Everything was settled. Talking to Sitch would be a simple matter come the next day.

Even still, there was a pit in her stomach — and it wasn’t because she just threw up.

‘Fubuki, I’m busy!’

‘Don’t talk to them — they’re not like us.’

‘You’re not good enough, so stay out of this!’

‘Don’t play hero if you can’t even beat something this weak.’

Not once had the esper ever regretted telling her sister anything. After all, hadn’t those very words — those harsh experiences made her strong? Facing the horrible world, Tatsumaki vowed to teach Fubuki how to overcome it all, just like she did. Even if she was a tad bit harsh, that was the older sister’s utmost belief.

Everything she’d said to her sister in the past was scathing. Each word was blunt, hurtful — exactly the things that Tatsumaki thought would make her sister stronger.

But not once had she lied.

The green-haired esper thought it wouldn’t matter. After all, what was just one little lie? It was a fixing of a mistake. A mere correction.

“Grh!” The esper voiced her frustration.

So why?! Why was she feeling so—

“Tats? You here?”

It was Saitama. The voice came from the bathroom.

“H—ah?!” the girl’s head whipped to face the sound.

Room. The baldy’s room. The girl tried to stand, but couldn’t manage the grace to keep herself upright. She watched, helpless, as the sliding door opened and the baldy appeared. He was wearing his (free) blue yukata and sported a laughably useless towel over his head.

The man who ‘saved’ her. Memories of that final attack  flashed in the esper’s dazed head. He was the last person she wanted to see.

“You wanna talk?” Saitama asked.

“N — hic! — no,” the esper managed.

“Why’re you here, then?” the baldy frowned.

‘Because I got the wrong room. Because I’m drunk. Because…’

The esper didn’t respond.

“You know,” Saitama began, taking a seat across from her. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings, shouting like that. People want to relax in an onsen, you know?”

The girl’s eyes widened.

“You… they said I’d be alone!”

“I was in the men’s area.”

But Tatsumaki couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in her ears. Over the sound of her frustration and shame.

“Gh! I’ll kill… hic!… kill them!”

The esper stood herself, fueled by drunken anger. The fusuma burst open, and Tatsumaki made her way back to the third floor’s celebration hall. Sitch — Ona — the girl didn’t care. She was furious. 

Saitama sighed and stood up, too. The girl liked being alone, but now was not the time to respect that preference.

“Hey, you really shouldn’t be walking right now!” the baldy called out as Tatsumaki went up the flight of stairs.

“Oh, shud up!” Tatsumaki replied, forcing her unsteady legs up the steps one by one. “You-you tried to sdop me last time — you can’d — hic — do it again now!”

The esper stubbornly kept going. Saitama didn’t really care if she shouted, but the moment he saw the esper begin to use her powers, he would step in.

Tatsumaki was the first to reach the top of the stairs.

“Sitch!” the girl’s voice blared. “Come here and ex—”

The hall was empty. The heroes had finished their party and left, the pile of weapons in the ‘safety box’ still quite full.

Saitama appeared soon after, realizing why Tatsumaki had gone silent. Well, this was awkward.

“Uhh,” Saitama began. “Hey, look…”

The girl knelt down, hands clenched.

“…horrible,” she muttered. “H-horrible…”

* * *

Saitama had never been one to relate with others. Even as a student, he didn’t understand why people did what they did. Bullies stealing money, cheating on tests, girls — it just wasn’t as important to him as other people seemed to find it. As he got stronger, the feeling just grew. Soon enough, his life just seemed to be… boring. A perfectly straight line among the chaotic shapes everyone else seemed to be taking.

Then Genos came. A rather odd kid that shook that straight path up. After they’d met, he had gone through a plethora of experiences. Joining the Hero Association, meeting all different kinds of people — it was, everything considered, fun.

After him was Boros. An even stranger being that brought him crashing back into reality. His speech rattled the hero unbelievably, no matter how unshaken he seemed to look on the outside.

‘You’re far too strong.’

No doubt those words would have grown into something horrible.

That is, if not for the esper.

Even though initially, the girl was hostile and infuriating, she calmed down just as quickly. Even though she always criticized his taste in manga, she read them from start to finish. She complained about his cooking, but ate it anyways, trying to hide her satisfied expression.

Tatsumaki was a mess of a line that he’d come across almost by chance. And she’d somehow managed to get tangled up with him at an unreasonably good time. The girl might not have known it, but she had saved him just as much as he did her.

That same girl was there now. In front of him, head hung, clawing weakly at the floor, muttering dejectedly into the silence.

Tatsumaki esper felt a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t care to look back. She knew who it was. He was always, frustratingly, somehow there at the worst possible moments.

“Just… go away,” Tatsumaki said. “You’re the… ugh… the last thing I want to see right now.”

The hand lingered a little while longer.

“You’ll figure… whatever this is… out,” he said. “Don’t forget to drink some water before you sleep.”

He pulled away and quietly made his way back downstairs.

Tatsumaki stayed there for a while, her mind drawn away from the heaviness in her chest and pulled towards the warmth that remained by her shoulder.

“Mind if I chat with you a bit?” A deeper voice spoke respectfully, coming from nowhere.

A pale hero sat down in front of the esper. Out of all the heroes, Tatsumaki probably respected Zombieman more than most. On a good day, she would’ve struck up a halfhearted conversation with him.

But right now, she just wasn’t in the mood to talk.

* * *

Tatsumaki made her way into her room, holding a glass of water and pitcher in either hand. The girl’s mood was still on the lower end of the scale, but at least she managed to let a little steam off before going to bed. Her head was too cloudy to stay awake for much longer.

The fusuma opened in spurts as the esper girl legged her way inside.

The water went down her throat with difficulty. It tasted horrible.

‘Was it ‘cuz I barfed?’ she thought groggily.

Probably.

The green-haired esper made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth. A small voice at the back of her mind telling her she was missing something.

Her eyes widened in realization.

“… Stupid… baldy.”

A full tube was placed neatly beside the sink.