Chapter Text
An endless stretch of hefty gray clouds hung low across the sky, encasing the entirety of the city below in hazy dread. The occasional patter of raindrops sounded on the pavement and leftover puddles from an earlier short downpour, a threat of more to come. An abandoned newspaper sailed through the air on a fierce breeze, dancing chaotically as it twisted and twirled to a rhythm no one could hear. No bird took flight; no cat left its shelter. The electric taste of a storm permeated every nook and cranny, every dark corner of every alley.
Saitama just wished he’d brought an umbrella.
His meager grocery bags hung loose against his side, scraping and scratching together as he walked lethargically. A raindrop splattered on his hairless head before streaking down across his face. He rubbed it away with his free hand in slight annoyance once it reached his eye. Just as soon as it was gone, however, another took its place. Then another. Then another. After only a few more moments, there was no fighting it. The sky finally delivered on its promise.
Saitama ducked under the awning of an abandoned store, sheltering himself from the onslaught. He sighed, annoyed at this very obvious turn of events. Normally he was more prepared than this. He figured he’d just wait it out, or at least for it to lighten up. A heavy rain like this was not sustainable, he liked to tell himself. Regardless, he knew it’s not like he would melt from some water, and his groceries were well sealed in their own containers that they should find no harm from this either.
As he listened to the rhythmic drum of nature, he was lulled deeper into his thoughts. He considered whether it was worth moving a little closer to civilization again. This abandoned section of City Z wasn’t exactly a bustling paradise, nor did it have a single grocery store. Or any store for that matter. It also lacked neighbors who weren’t trying to kill him. Though that aspect didn’t really bother Saitama all that much. It’s not like any of the monsters he encountered were ever a threat.
His overpowering strength was definitely… something. He was the hero he dreamed of being when he was a child: a hero who could defeat any monster with a single punch. But juvenile dreams often lacked the depth and nuance needed to see real fruition in adulthood. Not without a lot of caveats, stipulations, and modifications. Warped beyond their original intent to fit into the prefabricated mold society required for their justification.
Perhaps the loss of his hair was the cost of refusing to bend his dream to fit the confines of outside expectation. Though he had far less justification for his eroding emotions. That was more likely due to his isolation, stemming from his lack of connection with others due to his overwhelming power. A power he didn’t technically intend to achieve but broke the rule regardless. Full circle but never connecting at the end. A spiral that cascaded downward into an abyss that even someone like Saitama was incapable of escaping alone.
He really needed to stop watching dramatic movies.
His place here in this barren section of town still had its benefits. His rent was, dare he say, nonexistent. No real landlord to threaten to evict him, no troubling neighbors running shady businesses, no solicitors to try to sell him things he didn’t need. Here, he could punch monsters without much regard to his surroundings. No civilians to worry about. And there were a lot of monsters. While he would’ve appreciated more gratitude for the work he did here, he’d given up that expectation a long time ago. He gave another long sigh at the foolish thought of crowds of screaming fangirls holding up signs with his name in hearts.
He had to admit, lately there had been considerably less monsters about. He couldn’t chalk it up to rain either, since he’d still encountered plenty in bad weather before. He wasn’t ready to throw in the towel, per se, but it was at least a little disheartening to feel the bubbling rise of uselessness start to claw at his confidence. He shook his head. Maybe he’d just defeated so many that they feared this place now? Wouldn’t that be a good thing? He should be celebrating that he was finally making a difference. Wasn’t he?
‘I didn’t need to pass that stupid test anyway,’ Saitama huffed, still slightly miffed at that whole ordeal. He could make a difference without being “recognized”, and here was the proof. Though it still would’ve been nice to be paid for it. Unfortunately, the seed of doubt had been planted and was taking root, fed plentifully from his turbulent doubts. Perhaps there was something he really was missing regarding this whole “hero” thing. Shows weren’t made about nobodies. If he couldn’t convince people whose entire job it was to qualify someone as a hero, maybe he was doing something wrong. Granted, he’d never been too good at doing things the right way anyway. His school grades and lack of a job were pretty clear indications that somewhere along his twenty-five years of existence, he’d lost the well-tread path most took in life. Or maybe he was never on it at all.
He had no idea how long he’d been standing under his temporary shelter, but there was something else now somewhere in the vicinity. He let his eyes refocus on the landscape around him, trying to find the source of the sound. It didn’t take long as some type of dog-like creature darted out from the doorway of a darkened store, only to be grabbed by a long metal arm. It shrieked out a high-pitched yowl that made even Saitama wince before it was silenced. The metal hand had crushed its throat, nearly decapitating the monster before letting it fall lifeless to the ground. The rest of this metallic creature slowly shuffled from shadow, creaking as it stepped into the muted light.
Saitama definitely had not seen this thing before.
It was a little confusing to even look at. Its body seemed to be wrapped in plates of rusted metal in a cocoon of patchwork protection. Four arms protruded from its upper torso, with only the two upper arms moving smoothly. There was something wrong with the lower two. They dangled as it walked, the knuckles scraping along the ground in painful grinding. Its legs were thick with more scrap, only some of the pieces being discernable as actual objects or parts of something else. Its head had long metal pipes twisted into horns that started at where its forehead would be before curving back and stretching far past its back. There was a long slit in the front where Saitama figured its eyes would be. He considered if this was some type of scrapyard monster. Probably angry at the trash people left behind or some other boring backstory.
A seam opened on its face, presumably its mouth if the steaming hot breath that came out was any indication. The mist curled around its face as it slowly faded into the wind. Saitama thought it looked kind of cool, all things considered. It leaned down over the corpse, placing two hands on each side of the body as its jaws opened wider. It bit into the flesh, tearing away pieces that disappeared into the metal trap. ‘Okay, less cool,’ Saitama grimaced. Not that he really had any room to talk, but he considered himself at least above eating something like that raw.
The creature stopped devouring its meal when it heard the sound of plastic bags ruffling too close for comfort. Saitama had almost dropped one of them when the moisture finally made the handle too slick for his loose grip. A strange growl reverberated through its apparently hollow form, which just confused Saitama more on what exactly this thing was made of. As it lifted its blood-soaked face, he could now see a little deeper into the crevice in its mask. Two points of yellow glowed under the covering, locked in on him from across the street. Saitama did nothing in the face of this blatant hostility now directed his way.
It backed up deeper into the alleyway and turned to leave but stopped dead in its tracks. Saitama cocked his head to the side, unsure exactly what this thing was doing. Its hand rested on the wall as it seemed to be thinking. As the rain continued to fall, the blood still left from the monster’s remains washed down the sidewalk and into the drain, leaving pale ribbons of red across the pavement. There was still plenty of it left over, which Saitama figured was the reason it wouldn’t quite leave. Like an animal guarding a kill, it turned back around to face the interloper. Saitama waved his hands up in an attempt to show peace.
“Hey, you can have it. I’m not interested,” He called out, but it didn’t make a difference. The creature charged him, its claws now extended as it reached for its newfound prey. It was surprisingly fast, having closed the distance in the blink of an eye. While any other person may have been overwhelmed by the sheer strength exhibited by this creature, Saitama was not any other person. Not even close.
Saitama just let loose a lackluster punch straight to its face.
The metallic creature went flying, smashing into the building it originally exited. It lay still in the pile of destroyed wooden displays that used to house a variety of products, its two remaining arms keeping it braced on the scrap mound. Its two other arms were scattered on the pavement, detached and useless. They weren’t alone, as a multitude of scrap pieces now littered the area from the impact. Saitama cringed, not entirely meaning to cause such damage. As he peered into the lightless space, he could hear it stutter back to life. He let out a breath, glad he didn’t immediately kill it when he didn’t mean to.
The monster pried itself from the debris with some trouble before finally finding its footing. As it looked back at Saitama one more time, he could see its face was pretty jagged and broken, mostly caved in as the parting of its mouth now hung unintentionally wide open. It turned and escaped through the back door into whatever stockroom was behind the counter before it clearly busted through the rear wall, if Saitama had to guess from the sound alone.
He remained in place for a few minutes longer. That was one of the stranger encounters he’d had recently. He wondered if maybe he should’ve killed it since it seemed to be some sort of monster, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t necessary. After all, it did take out another creature. Granted, it did start to eat it, but maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe this thing was the reason for the decrease in monster sightings? It made sense, perhaps it was claiming this area as its hunting grounds? Hopefully it wasn’t territorial or else Saitama might actually have to take it out. He wasn’t about to give up his home to this newcomer.
Though it was odd. As it retreated, it looked way more human without all that plating and extra arms.
Saitama shrugged at the idea. Plenty of monsters had a humanoid form, that wasn’t really that special. It didn’t make any sense to treat this one differently than all the others. He’d also encountered creatures that could talk, and others that only roared. There was also one that only made musical notes, but never in tune. Saitama took that one down out of principle. He rubbed his neck when he realized he was thinking in circles again.
It didn’t really matter, just like everything else he dealt with.
He’d forget about this one soon enough.
He’d make sure to deal with it properly if it showed its face again.