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Really, the green glow should have been their first tip off.
But Genos was more concerned with trying to explain, very patiently, to his sensei that, no, this was probably not a ghost since ghosts didn’t really exist and, no, sensei really didn’t need to come with him he could probably handle it. Saitama was more concerned with finding out if ghosts were real, thinking it might be kinda cool to see something he’d never actually seen before.
So, here they were, standing outside of the rumbling, shaking, decrepit house while the windows rattled loudly in their panes and the doors slammed open and shut like a bad horror movie set. Saitama looked bored and Genos looked a little intrigued. Maybe Sensei was right? Maybe ghosts did exist...but that still seemed weird, though his sensei was wise beyond the mere realm of simple men.
“I apologize, sensei,” Genos said after a moment and Saitama made a noise of curiosity. “Perhaps this could be some sort of supernatural phenomenon that I had not considered before.”
“Oh, cool,” Saitama put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, having not bothered with his hero outfit. He rocked on his heels, head tilted. “Let’s go inside, see if we can find the ghost or monster or whatever.”
The doors were summarily ripped off the hinges and the two heroes meandered inside. Each step was met with the walls expanding and contracting like lungs in a ribcage, the wood moaned and creaked angrily as though enraged at the feeling of trespassers walking along its innards. Their feet slid through the mottled carpeting, fibers pricking and pulling at their shoes, trying to trip them or send them to the ground. Even Saitama looked nonplussed, his normally neutral face falling into an uneasy countenance, reflecting the emotions welling up in Genos’ chest but carefully kept away from his visage.
It all alternated between oppressively quiet, where the air gulped down the sounds of whirring fans and peaked breathing, and far too loud, old light fixtures crackling with power and wooden bannisters snapping and rattling. The air shifted between hot and cold, crackling along skin and metal and making Genos’ hair stand on end.
“Do you,” Saitama began before pausing, lowering his voice to a whisper, “do you think it can like, possess people?”
“What can, sensei?” Genos looked at Saitama as he dodged out of the way of a flying picture frame.
“The ghost,” he replied, looking around, “like, could it possess one of us? In the movies it happens all the time.”
That...that could be a problem. Genos rubbed at his chin. If Saitama were possessed then Genos would have no ability to stop him. Unlike if he were possessed, his sensei could simply remove his limbs to make it alright.
“If it can, please allow me to be the one possessed, sensei, as I will be easier to keep from causing too much destruction.”
Another non-committal noise that Genos took as agreement came forth from Saitama and they continued pressing forward. The floors creaked, the windows creaked, the doors slammed and eventually they found a door with green light leaking out from the cracks.
“I believe our poltergeist is beyond that door.”
Saitama gave him a serious look and they nodded to each other, taking place on either side of the door before they smashed it open. Wood splintered and fell and they were both met with a screech and the feeling of being lifted up off the ground.
“What are you two assholes doing here?!”
Saitama blinked and Genos groaned.
“Uh oh...I think there’s a lost kid here, Genos,” Saitama said and Tatsumaki screeched, slamming him repeatedly into the ground.
“I am older than you, idiot!”
The small woman had them both elevated off of the ground, her green eyes venomous with rage and something else. Genos could feel parts of his arms starting to buckle but, somehow, they were released, crashing to the ground.
“Go home,” Tatsumaki huffed and Saitama tilted his head.
“Why are you so grumpy?”
“I’m not grumpy!”
And that was the argument that led Genos to the surreal situation he was in now.
He stood in the kitchen, brewing tea while Saitama set up the playstation and Tatsumaki sneered at the walls of their apartment as though the place had personally offended her. Eventually she took a “seat”, floating next to Saitama on the ground as he loaded up some game that Genos had never really figured and handed her the player two controller.
He came in with the tea tray, pouring three cups as Tatsumaki grumbled under her breath about the controls before she looked at him, gaze sharp and cutting. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking the cup and he blinked, staring at her, enough for her to glare, the cup floating in the air beside her.
“What are you staring at?”
“I wasn’t…”
“Oi,” Saitama cut in, bland voice like a dull knife, “it’s your turn, ‘Maki.”
The esper huffed through her nose before turning away from Genos, getting absorbed in the game. All three of them fell into comfortable silence after that, the sounds of the game filling the apartment until Tatsumaki hit a combo that made Saitama whistle.
“Good job.”
And those two words seemed to have changed everything in the room. Soon enough they were shouting at the screen, Tatsumaki’s perpetual green glow fading as he came down to earth to curse and laugh with Saitama as they went after the boss fight.
It was actually fun and Genos found himself smiling even as they walked the smaller woman to the door. She stood in the entryway for a few moments, looking at them both with a mysterious sort of look. Not her usual sneer or scowl, but something softer at the edges, something lonelier but a little less lonely.
“I...Don’t think this means I’m sorry for handing you both your asses! You’re still not as great as you think you are, baldy!”
She left in a burst of green, leaving Saitama to laugh softly and Genos to shake his head.
What a strange apology.