Staring at the illuminated screen, a small, delicate tear gently rolled down his cheek. There sat Genos, staring blankly, numbly, listlessly at the computer in front of him, the back-lighting from the screen highlighting the thin glistening lines on his face. The subject of his current distress? None other than the ever-so-annoying recaptcha presented on the web page before him. In his mind, he knew that he should not become upset over something so trivial, so ridiculous, so...stupid. But despite what he repeatedly told himself, there was no denying the tight burning sensation that currently flooded his chest. What….was he, really? Though his brain was indeed that of a 19 year old, the majority of his body consisted of well-maintained non-organic moving parts. Was he a man, or was he just another machine?

"I really wasn't prepared for an identity crisis like this today,"

he thought to himself as he pulled the blanket from his futon to wrap around himself. Though he did not enjoy the warm sensation as others would, he somehow found it comforting anyway, and clutched the fabric tightly close to his abdomen.

Momentarily, he heard rustling coming from the other side of the apartment. "Sensei must be home," he reasoned, though his mind was still heavily clouded from his inner turmoil.

"Genos? I'm home. Genos?"

Saitama called to him in a slightly puzzled manor. Usually, Genos was more than enthusiastic about greeting his sensei when he returned from grocery shopping, and yet, Genos was nowhere in sight.

Genos wanted to go to him...he really did. But he couldn't move. He couldn't even find it in himself to give sensei a "welcome home." Instead, he did the only thing he could do: draw his knees inward and rest his head on top of them, hiding his face, and his grip on the blanket loosening ever so slightly as he did so.

As Saitama entered the shared bedroom in search of some more comfortable clean clothes, his eyes were met with a disheartening sight. He had never seen Genos behave in such a manner, and he wondered what could possibly have caused this normally resilient young man so much distress. He moved across the room silently and peered over Genos's shoulder to see what was displayed on the screen in front of him. As soon as he saw the recaptcha, he knew. He knew that Genos occasionally had these thoughts. He knew that Genos often felt like his humanity had been taken from him. Seeing him this shaken up about it, however, was an entirely new experience…an experience he never wanted to repeat. Firmly and gently, Saitama brought a hand down to rest on Genos's shoulder; A gesture he knew Genos would accept.

"What am I, Sensei?" Genos quietly asked.

For a moment, Saitama said nothing as he pursed his lips in thought.

Then, after what had seemed like an eternity to Genos, he spoke.

"Everything."

For the first time, Genos lifted his head to look at Saitama, utterly bewildered by his statement.

"Everything?" Genos repeated, silently asking for clarification.

"Yes."

Without letting go of his shoulder, Saitama sat down next to Genos and used his free hand to tilt his face, forcing him to make eye contact.

"To me,"

He said, softly.

"To me, you are everything."