It was another quiet day. Another silent room. Another still heartbeat.
Genos was dead.
It was about three days ago, when Saitama received the news from an elderly man with the name Doctor Kuseno. The elder man showed Saitama a small, dirt-stained loose screw. It was the only thing that can be salvaged from the young cyborg's body.
"There's nothing left of him," Doctor Kuseno spoke, "I want you to keep this, Saitama-kun."
"Why me?" Saitama scratched his chin, "Of all people, why should I?"
"Because...he doesn't have any family left to keep this for him."
"Oh," Saitama gulped, "I forgot about his family. Then, why won't you keep it? You're close to Genos, right?"
"No. I think you should keep this, Saitama-kun. He would probably be the happiest if you're the one to hold on to this."
Saitama took the small screw from Doctor Kuseno's hands hesitately. Strange, suffocating feelings churned his stomach, when the cold metal touched his sweaty palms.
"You are Genos' most treasured person," the old man stared straight, into Saitama's eyes, "he's always talking about you, telling stories about you whenever he came over here."
"Huh," a bitter chuckle came out of Saitama's lungs, "what a fussy brat."
"That's why, I want you to keep it. Genos will be happy if he spends his whole lifetime alongside you."
That's weird, Saitama thought to himself, I don't feel anything about Genos' sudden death at all. I don't feel sadness. I don't feel anger. I don't feel regret.
I just feel...weird.
He stepped out of Doctor Kuseno's research lab, the sun has setting down on the western sky. Saitama closed his eyes, letting faint images burned into his mind. Images of Genos' last moments. He was walking out of Saitama's apartment hallway. He told his mentor about Hero Association's emergency request for the S-class Heroes or whatever it was...it doesn't matter anymore. Then, Genos smiled.
"I'll finish this in no time, Sensei. After I'm done, I'll buy some udon on the way home for dinner later."
The stars were twinkling in the twilight sky, right above Saitama's head. He clenched tight to Genos' small screw in his fist, and slowly opened his grip to see the tiny scrap of metal inside.
"You've become this small..." Saitama let out a dry laughter.
That night, Genos didn't come home. Instead, Saitama received a phone call from Kuseno, informing his disciple's death.
"I was expecting you to come home with some udon, you know. How are you gonna eat your dinner if you're just a tiny screw?"
He tucked Genos' screw inside his pocket. Suddenly, his head went blank.
"Might as well buying some udon before going home..."
ahh...but the sale time is over already...
It was another quiet day. Another silent room. Another still heartbeat.
A week has passed by. Saitama's apartment has become very spacious since his disciple's been gone. Occasionally, some of his friends came to visit his place. King brought over his games, Fubuki tagging along behind him with her henchmen. They knew Saitama would feel lonely after Genos' departure, so they'll visit to console him. However, it doesn't help much.
The room is always quiet after his friends went to their home.
Saitama remembered about his complaints of Genos taking too much space in his room, or the latter being too noisy for training regiment discussions.
Now, it's very empty. Very quiet.
I gotta say, this room feels too empty without him.
He grasped the TV remote, turning on the news about a mysterious monster being defeated by Tatsumaki, the 2nd-ranked S-class Hero. The news then changed into a cheerful, bubbly candy commercial.
A small sigh escaped Saitama's lips.
Why can't I feel anything? He thought to himself, why can't I feel anything for Genos? Why can't I feel...at least a bit upset about it?
"Haven't you cried...at least a little?"
Saitama reminded himself at the words Fubuki spoke to him yesterday. She shook her pretty head in disbelief, while he let out a dry chuckle.
Why, I wonder why. I can't even feel sad, let alone crying for him. I feel...nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Just as his boredom of being too strong, Saitama felt nothing about it. He rummaged through his pocket, reached out for Genos' screw.
That old man Kuseno is stupid. Genos wouldn't be happy for someone like me...who even can't let out tears for him to keep this last piece of him.
The bald young man yawned, switching off the TV, and stretched his arms lazily.
"Gonna hit the sack."
He turned off the lights, curled up on his futon. An uneasy chill shivered down his spine. The silence of his now dark room was deafening. Saitama could only heard the drums of his own heartbeat.
Oh, I remember Genos' crazy core-thing.
It was a warm afternoon of autumn, when Saitama expressed his curiosity for Genos' core.
"Sure, Sensei," Genos spoke calmly, "here, have a look."
"Woah."
The cyborg opened his chestplates, pulling out a ball glowing in a bluish white light.
"Is this your heart? Dude, this is so cool."
"Heart...yes, you can say it as that. This is my core, Sensei."
Genos gently put his core on Saitama's grasp.
"Anyway, what will happen if this stuff explodes?" Saitama asked, rubbing the glowing core within his palms.
"I'll die."
Saitama nearly choked on his own spit.
"DUDE. No shit? W-why would you easily hand this thing over like it was nothing to me? What if I accidentally crushed this with my hands?"
"That won't happen, Sensei. I believe in you."
The core glowed bright within Saitama's fingers. Faintly, he felt a weak pulse emanating from it, resonated with his own thumping heart. It was warm, beating in a rhythm of how a human's heart would.
"I won't die if Sensei told me not to."
A painful sensation struck Saitama's chest. He bit his lip in uneasiness. It is true that he felt nothing regarding Genos' death. However, he cannot bring himself to cry no matter how hard he try.
Genos has done pretty much anything for him. He made his boring days livelier, he made his dull days more colorful, he made his life filled...with everything.
As for me, I can't even shed a drop of tear for him. I really am a failed teacher.
The following day, Saitama found Genos' diary inside the desk's drawer.
"Figures," he sneered a little after flipping the pages, "it's full of unnecessary shit."
The diary was filled with Saitama's daily routine, from watching TV to reading manga to his sleeping position. Genos was such a creep, he thought to himself. Then, he found a brown envelope tucked in the middle of the diary's pages. It was a letter. Saitama's eyes widened after realizing who the writer was.
It was written by Genos.
His body was shaking, stricken with nervousness. He tore open the brown envelope, pouring out the contents.
A lot of papers flew down to the floor.
Crap, Saitama cursed. He collected the letters clumsily. Then, he noticed that some of the letters were scribbled out, just like a certain fan letter addressed to him right after a barrage of hate mail he received for ranking up to class B. He can't help but chuckled awkwardly a bit.
What's this? Some kind of another stupid fan letter or something?
He saw the stiff, but neatly written words lined up on the papers. Genos' familiar handwriting was somewhat shaky, much to Saitama's curiosity.
For: Saitama-sensei.
If you are reading this, then most likely I'm already dead.
I wrote this letter to apologize to you, for I might have been a disappointing disciple of yours, Saitama-sensei. I have failed you as a disciple.
I always longed to become stronger, as strong as you. So I can fight alongside you, right beside you. I want to become a man equal to you, but it seems like I have reached my limit.
I am truly sorry for not being able to exceed your expectations, and I am very grateful for have knowing you in my life.
Thank you, Sensei, for making me the way I am now.
I was a vengeful cold-blooded being who only knew hatred and rage. My heart was empty, really empty. I did not know anything but revenge and destruction. I was just an empty, heartless machine built for killing.
I only knew how to hurt others, with these hands.
But then, you came into my life.
You taught me how to feel happy. You taught me how to feel sad. You taught me how to become human again.
Thus, my heart is now overflowing with colorful emotions that I never felt before. I become whole again.
I've finally learned how to protect others as a hero, not just hurting others like I used to.
Thank you, Saitama-sensei. It may feel sad to continue living without my presence, but I do hope you will keep on walking towards the future, without hesitation.
I believe in you, Saitama-sensei. You are the strongest person I have ever known.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sor-
"...the hell?"
Saitama's voice broke into a dry, hoarse whisper. Warm droplets trickled down his face.
He haven't finished reading Genos' letters yet. It doesn't matter to him anymore, because seven out of ten pages of those letters were filled with only words of I'm sorry.
"'Sorry', my ass..."
Saitama reached out to a small screw inside his pocket.
"I told you to shorten it in 20 words or less! You idiot!"
The wild beating of Saitama's heart continues to echo within the small but spacious, cold, empty room. All alone, without any warmth and gentle buzzing from Genos' core.
It was another quiet day. Another silent room. Another still heartbeat.
Another emptiness.