There had only been a few times during his life as a cyborg that Genos had allowed himself to cry. The first, when he had just woken up in his new body and the weight of losing everything he had loved hit him, the next three being the anniversaries of his family's deaths, and the most recent happened when his newfound sensei allowed Genos to know of his gaping loneliness and loss of emotions (and hair) he had felt since obtaining his overwhelming power. Genos barely registered the familiar welling of a lump in his artificial throat and a slight stinging in the corners of his eyes before the black liquid gently rolled down his cheeks in slow, steady streams.
He hadn't noticed at first, and probably wouldn't have if his sensei didn't look up from his manga with a prompt, "What the hell, dude?! There's black stuff coming out of your eyes!" This had of course led to Genos frantically wiping at his eyes and smearing the black liquid all over his face while he stammered apologies, begging for his sensei's forgiveness. The older hero had insisted no apologies were necessary and offered him a tissue from the box on the table that he had his feet propped on, all the while still managing to retain his place in the manga he was reading, reminding Genos not to stain his house.
Looking back on it now, Genos smiled to himself at how kind Sensei remained throughout the little mishap, lowering his chin on the pillow which he had his upper body propped on, laying on his stomach with his arms crossed in front of him. His golden eyes shifted to the slip of slightly burned paper he held loosely in his right hand. The one thing he had left to remember his family by. He sighed and gently ran his metal finger over the slim curve of his mother's frame, memories of her soft and gentle nature flooding into his mind.
The finger lingered over her long brown curls before he moved on to the tall and formidable figure of his father, years of heavy lifting in factories still prominent in his muscles, before the promotion to CEO had added worry lines to his sharp features. He resembled his father mostly, in the messy blond hair and sturdy build. His little sister took after their mother, looking like a miniature version of the latter. Genos gazed at the part of the picture where the five year old girl grinned from ear to ear as her parents hugged her and Genos from behind.
He wished more than anything that her eyes weren't shut. He knew that she had the most brilliant eyes which could shine under any lighting and instantly become the focal point of the room, but for all his incredibly advanced inner CPU power, he could not remember the color of her eyes. Why was that?
Because you were a stupid, petulant teenager who thought he didn't need his family and never gave them the time of day like he should have. He thought to himself bitterly. That's right. He wasn't on the best terms with his family when they died because of a stupid argument he had with his parents the night the crazy cyborg came to their town.
He had left his house in a hormonal rage to blow off steam by running into the hills which rose high behind his neighborhood to sit and clear his thoughts, all the while thinking about how unfair they were being. In all actuality he was just too stubborn to admit his mistakes, and it had seriously damaged their relationship. He was brooding over what arguments to return to them when he saw a strange light appear in the slightly cloudy, star-lit sky. At first he mistook it for an airplane or a helicopter, but it was moving way too fast to be either, and as the object became clearer his field of vision, he recognized the shape as slightly human. Granted it was far too large and metallic to be human, not to mention the rocket boosters in its feet propelling it at an alarming speed towards the center of the town. It came to a sudden halt and hovered right over the middle of the populated area, and just stayed there a minute. Genos slowly got to his feet and watched the machine with interest.
That was when the first bomb dropped. The explosion was large enough to completely obliterate everything in and around the impact zone, while still managing to set all of the surrounding neighborhoods on fire. Including his own. The force of the explosion had knocked him back, but he was instantly on his feet again and making a beeline for his house. The machine was making its way around the outskirts of the town now, dropping lesser bombs on the neighborhoods to destroy them too. As his home came into view, he could see that it was just one of the many buildings set to flames by the explosion.
He skidded to a halt in front of his driveway, staring up at the damage the machine caused to his home. Most of the roof was singed and destroyed, as well as a good portion of the upstairs. Where he and his sister slept. And she was probably in her room at this time of night.
No. No no no no no no no no no! His mind screamed at him. This was impossible, this wasn't happening! Maybe he was just hallucinating. That's it. He probably hit his head on his way into the hills and was dreaming right now. He would wake up in a minute end everything would be fine, and he would go home to his parents and apologize for being such an ass. But then his mother's screams were all too real and suddenly his feet were taking him towards his home as fast as he could. As he neared ever closer to the flaming death trap, the insane monster became a factor in his mind again as he heard the rocket sound become too close for comfort, and he whipped around to see the giant metal body had landed in the street just in front of his home.
The sound of metal and gears whirring together rang in his ears as it stood up, taking a good look around at the damage it had wrought with an eerie, mechanical laugh. Genos's breathing picked up and his heart pounded in his ears as he couldn't remove his eyes from this ghoulish thing. Then the monster suddenly turned to him and its piercing eyes were gazing right through him, and he could vaguely make out the sound of his father calling out his name, but nothing else mattered when a giant cyborg stood over you and chuckled menacingly, making you want to shrivel up into a little ball.
"What's your name, boy?" It's hollow, robotic voice called out to him.
"G-Genos," he managed meekly, still not registering that this was happening.
"And this is your home?" Why did he want to know? Genos nodded. The cyborg laughed again. "You're going to watch it burn."
With that, the cyborg raised one of its metal arms, aiming a rocket directly at his house. "W-wait, no!" Genos leaped forward to scrabble against the monster's body in a futile attempt to stop the missile that shot out of its arm and into his house. Just before everything turned to white, he saw his parents standing in the front door with his unconscious sister in their arms. Just as they made to reach out for him, the world was engulfed in flames and he was knocked unconscious.
Just after that, the good doctor Kuseno had found him, broken, bloodied, missing his legs, half of his body melted away, and sobbing uncontrollably. He begged the doctor for mechanical enhancements, anything to give him the ability to take his revenge on the Insane Cyborg. Being a doctor for justice, Kuseno complied with Genos's wishes, and transplanted his brain-perhaps the only undamaged part of his body-into his new, mechanical one. When he woke up from the transplant surgery, Dr. Kuseno began to explain everything he needed to know about his new body. While the good doctor droned on, Genos had stared down at his new mechanical hands, feeling them with pressure-sensitive plates. It was nowhere near as sensitive as his human skin had been, but he could feel power in these hands. Power which he could have used to stop the cyborg.
He leaned forward, burying his head with its synthetic skin in this hands, and let out the first choked sob.
And now, sitting in Saitama-sensei's apartment in Z-city, gazing at the one photograph of his family he could find in the wreckage, the reality of him never seeing his family again, never hearing their voices, or playing with his sister, banning cookies with his mother, having his father help him with homework, or ever remembering the color of his sister's eyes hit him like a train, and he forced himself not to cry. He had to be strong like sensei. Sensei never cried. Genos shut his eyes tight and buried his head in his pillow trying desperately to regain control of emotions. Sensei said in order to reach the level of strength he was at, Genos would have to steel his mind. But how could he do that if he couldn't even remember the damn color of his sister's eyes?!
"Oi, Genos," Saitama called as he made is way out of the kitchen with two bowls of udon in his hands. There was a soft clink as he set them on the table and positioned himself in front of one, breaking a pair of chopsticks and getting ready to eat. When he noticed Genos still hadn't budged from his spot on the futon, he put the chopsticks back down and looked over to his disciple. Man that word felt weird every time. "Hey, whatcha doin? You tired or something?"
Genos didn't trust his voice not to betray his emotions, and simply nodded, pulling the pillow a little closer as if he could hide from his sensei's gaze. His throat made that uncomfortable swelling again, and he prepared for the worst as he knew now the tears were unstoppable, and he lifted his head up to grab at the tissue box on the table. He couldn't stain Saitama-sensei's things. His fingers fell just short of the container, and now the tears were making their presence known to the world, slowly starting to roll down his cheeks. Just as he was about to lunge at the box frustratingly, Saitama suddenly picked it up and gave it to the straining metal hand.
Genos took the box and looked up at his sensei with surprise, and saw what faintly looked like concern ebbing his master's features. "I-I'm sorry, sensei," he stammered, disappointed in himself for letting his uncontrollable emotions get the better of him, and now causing his sensei an inconvenience. He set the box down next to his arm and took several tissues out, wiping frantically at the oil staining his face.
"Hey, Genos," Saitama shuffled forward, abandoning their food on the table. Genos turned his head away to try to hide the tears, but Saitama had seen them. He put his fingers on top of Genos's head and turned it to face him, marvelling at how much his hair actually felt real. "It's okay to cry, you know. Everyone gets sad sometimes, and that's not really a bad thing. It's only bad if you let yourself be sad alone. Someone should be there for you, to make sure you don't stay sad," He smiled down at Genos, and the cyborg gazed up at him in wonderment, a meek smile of his own tugging at the corner of his lip. "So what's bothering you, man?"
Genos turned again to look at the photograph in his hand, his eyes boring into the image of his family. He may have started to mumble something of a response when Saitama leaned over his shoulder and saw the picture, the weight in his voice lifting. "Hey, is that you?"
"Huh? Oh, y-yeah," Genos managed, still worrying a full-blown sob fest was about to come. He pointed to each of the members of his family, describing them in twenty words or less to his sensei. "And that's my sister, Hisako. She was really sweet, and loved everything, and was always kind to everyone. Even me, her asshole big brother. Gods, I never deserved her. Especially since...since..." He fought back the sobs threatening to return, shaky hand preparing to take another tissue from the box. "Since I can't even remember the color of her eyes."
He couldn't hold them back anymore, and his woes expunged themselves through his tears; enough to fill a car engine, he thought. He didn't know if the tissues would be enough, and he quickly set the photo on his pillow and made to get up. But his sensei caught his arm before he could leave the room, and suddenly he was spun into a tight embrace. Surprised, Genos was limp and he didn't know how to react to his sensei's strong arms wrapped around his mechanic body. "It's okay, Genos," Saitama said soothingly into his ear. Genos's senses buzzed and his cooling fans kicked on, trying to quell the cyborg's emotions.
"S-sensei, your shirt," Genos managed to protest, recalling his teacher's lack of want for a stained house.
"Genos," Saitama stated again, a little more firmly, "I said it's okay." One of his hands snaked up to the back of the cyborg's head, gently inviting him into the embrace. Genos slowly complied, allowing his sensei to comfort him as sobs racked his body. He cried harder than he had had any other time, his hands gripping at the fabric on Saitama's back. They remained like that, Genos with his head buried in the crook of Saitama's neck, and Saitama gently stroking his back and golden hair. The sobs eventually quelled into irregular, shaky breaths, until he stopped altogether and slipped out of Saitama's grasp.
"Thank you, sensei," he looked down and smiled sheepishly, grateful to have someone as caring as his teacher. He grunted when he saw the oil stains on his sensei's shirt. Saitama looked down at them, shrugged, and made his way back to the table with the udon still steaming slightly. Genos grinned at his teacher, shyly sitting across from him and politely starting on his own food, unable to contain the grin that was prominent behind his bowl.
He was so grateful to have a sensei as caring as Saitama.