Saitama was walking, walking, walking away from the abyss. He thought he was walking into the light but he was looking at Genos, all he could see was Genos. They passed through the veil of the universe, the fabric of the night that Genos had torn asunder, had split apart, spilling in this other world, this other world…for him…Saitama…

...had trouble thinking, forming thoughts. Objects and shapes passed by his mind but they had no shape or form or color, ideas memories that seemed to be linked were broken and apart, scattered across the desert of his consciousness. His mind was blurry, his vision clouded and he was blind and deaf in this place, wherever they were. Wherever they walked.

But Genos. Genos, he could see.

Saitama blinked.

Now, he could hear. A shrill, whining white noise that tinned in his ears like a siren.

Saitama coughed.

Now, white light overwhelmed his limited vision and he squeezed his eyes shut, his hand slipping from Genos' to cover his ears.

The noise was so loud. He tried, tried, counting in his head but he couldn't think of the numbers. He tried listening to the beat of his heart but it was racing, whirring, and he was afraid.

Cold, hard fingers grasped his hands, lowering them from his ears. Their touch was faint on the shell, lobes of his flesh.

"Sensei…look at me, sensei," a soft voice breathed.

Unsure, but trusting, Saitama squinted his eyes open to see a sea of pale hair and fair skin swimming in front of his sight. Genos leaned forward and brushed his soft mouth on Saitama's eyelids.

Now, he could see.


what have you done

please

don't do this

don't do this


Saitama blinked, and all of a sudden he was staring at Genos' face ringed by white walls that stretched out indefinitely, instead of blinding light. He squinted, his pupils dilating painfully.

He stumbled onto the floor, falling. Genos' wings settled delicately across his back, the tips scraping the floor.

"Wha…?" he mumbled, bemused with a bruised ass.

Genos straightened, offering him a hand up. "I got us out," he said grimly, glancing around them with narrowed eyes as if he was expecting someone.

Saitama uncharacteristically found himself buzzing, full of questions. Finally he could think again, and he never thought he'd be so happy just to think, and he was pretty sure he had just witnessed the end of the universe, he was apparently dead and didn't know it and now he and an angel were standing in the middle of what appeared to be a ferociously-undecorated clinic. He huffed. "Out of where? Where were we? Where are we?"

Genos favored him with a brief glance. "Not now. We have to get out of here."

Saitama grumbled. "There's nowhere to go. Just hallways."

Genos shook his head, almost smiling to himself at Saitama's ignorance. Saitama frowned.

"Leave it to me." Genos said, taking Saitama's hand and pulling him towards a wall that had no door.

"Wait, stop!" he shouted, yelping as Genos dragged him past the wall. He jumped, head swiveling left and right, eyes wide. The wall was gone. So was all that glaring whiteness, that soulless shade of sterile white evil scientists and hospitals preferred.

Sunlight was blazing down on him, bright green trees were scattered across a green meadow. They were in…?...a garden.

Saitama wanted to cry. "Where are we now?"

"It's a garden."

Saitama wanted to punch him. "Genos - " he started, dangerous and low.

Genos raised his hands. "Sensei. I understand. This is very difficult for you."

"Explain to me what's going on, now!" Saitama shouted. Genos flinched, his composure visibly shaken.

He looked disheartened. He lowered his head, almost pouting, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You're…you're certain you don't remember me?" Genos implored, his brow wrinkling in obvious distress. "Not even a little?"

Saitama almost slapped him, this beautiful angel who'd told him he was dead not five minutes ago now begging him to remember whatever it was Genos used to be to him. But he held his hand, his eyes avoiding Genos' watery ones and a glint off shined metal catching his eye.

What?

Saitama cleared his throat, and decided a change of subject was overdue. "Hey…uh, why do you have metal hands? You didn't before…"

Genos looked at him, and once meeting his gaze Saitama was startled to see that Genos' eyes weren't amber against black scleras anymore, either. Saitama stepped back. He stared at Genos, wary.

"What…are you?" Saitama said slowly, his voice guttural, but soft.

Saitama could tell that Genos didn't want to tell him. Genos held his lips closed as he purposefully deliberated his answer, hesitating before finally spitting out,

"I'm an angel."

No shit. "Are you dangerous?"

"Everyone is dangerous, sensei."

"What are you?"

"I've already told you that, sensei," Genos said, his watery eyes betraying his monotone voice.

Genos looked so crushed, anticipating hostility or a rejection that never came. Saitama stepped closer, arms automatically going to rest on Genos' shoulders, a motion that felt so natural and familiar to Saitama, so familiar and so right in his bones. He tried not to think about that.

He kept his expression determinedly neutral. "You're not telling me something."

"It would be easier if you remembered me, or at least one of me."

"I'm sorry but I don't know you. But you clearly know me, so you must know who I am, how I am. And," Saitama mused, "You call me sensei, so…" he pressed hard onto Genos' shoulders, his face becoming rigid and defined with authority. "Identify yourself!" he ordered.

Genos remained quiet for a moment, staring into the ground as if it was an abyss and he could disappear. Anywhere away from the harsh gaze boring into him now. He swallowed, wetting his throat.

"I am…was Genos," he said carefully, his shoulders melding into a hard steel casing that ran down his arms. He lifted his chin to stare breathlessly down at Saitama, and his pale neck was now dark with silver tendons running down the sides. Smooth, rounded metal plates covered his chest, and if Saitama squinted he could almost see steel cords and plates on steel legs and metal feet. Genos' dark gold eyes were once again set against inky black, an effect that would've given him an ethereal and mysterious look if it hadn't instantly calmed Saitama's nerves to stare into those intense yellow-black eyes, his skin prickling with a familiarity bordering on nostalgia.

He hummed. "I like that better."

Genos smiled a smile that was barely a smile, lips twitching and his eyes shining with forbidden hope. "It should. You knew me as a cyborg…a cyborg for justice."

"A cyborg for justice? Were you a hero, like me?"

Genos nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course sensei! We were heroes together, we became heroes together, and I…" Genos paused, swallowing self-consciously. "I was always by your side."

Saitama pursed his lips. "Always? Were we partners?"

"Yes. I was your disciple, actually. We lived together."

Saitama was quiet, processing this information with his head held down, and he found himself eyeing dainty metal feet. He chewed his tongue, then, softly,

"Why don't I remember you?"

Genos sighed, and his good voice came out with a sharp bitterness that coated his tongue. "Your memories of me…of your life with me were buried, destroyed. You were never supposed to know. That was your punishment."

"I…I think I need to sit down."

Genos obliged, and Saitama plopped down into the grass. It was soft, leafy. He sat with his back against a tree, staring out at the meadow. Genos sat uncomfortably close to him.

Genos slid a hand down Saitama's thigh, resting it on his knee. Saitama tried not to twitch.

"Genos…"

"Yes, sensei?"

Taking a leap of faith, a risk, a stupid risk, Saitama voiced a quiet, shrewd suspicion of his he'd been harboring ever since Genos saved him.

"...were we…more than partners?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, sensei." Genos replied swiftly, his hand still heavy on Saitama's knee.

Saitama turned to face him, irate. "You know what I mean, you bucket of bolts!"

Genos chuckled, low in his throat, laughter that was torn between joy and pain. "That's something you will have to remember for yourself."

Saitama eyed him, his glare losing potency as Genos stared miserably at himself, all at once looking so lonely even though Saitama was right there.

"It was you. In my dream."

Genos was quiet, head down, his pale bangs curtaining his face. "Yes," he whispered.

Saitama turned his shoulders to face Genos properly. "You were the metal man that I - " he flushed, remembering how hard and unyielding Genos' body had been underneath him, how his smooth voice turned husky and hoarse when he was moaning Saitama's name. His ears burned with the heated memory playing in his mind's eye.

Genos pushed out his jaw hard, baring his throat in a challenge. He shook back his bangs, glaring down at Saitama with a half-lidded gaze that would've been sensual if there wasn't so much spite bubbling in his throat.

"Yes. You killed me."

"…oh," Saitama said in a small voice. "Sorry, I didn't…I didn't know it was you, it felt weird. You didn't have a face, man."

"Don't concern yourself. I've become accustomed to your harsh treatment of me," he said bitterly.

And with that Genos changed, his black hard metal body reverting into pale white skin, his eyes gold against white. Genos removed his now human hand from Saitama's thigh, and crossed his arms.

"What – what do you mean?" Saitama asked worried, confused. Horror slowly crept up in his chest, suffocating. "Did I used to hurt you?" When Genos hesitated, Saitama crossed his arms over his chest, trembling.

"Genos…" Saitama said softly, not wanting to ask but he had to ask, he had to know. "…did I kill you?" he murmured, eyes downcast in shame and fear and guilt, his words pushing past his lips like acid and brushing past Genos' ears like falling flower petals.

Genos stilled, his posture stiffening. "I…I haven't been honest with you, sensei."

Saitama licked his frozen lips, tongue clenched between his teeth. He said nothing.

Genos turned to Saitama, face dipping and entering Saitama's line of vision.

"Look…at…me."

Saitama lifted his chin up, briefly, trying not to stare too harshly at this man, this angel, that spoke to him so softly even though Saitama was sure he didn't deserve it. He felt at once hollow and full, devoid, soulless yet wracked with intense guilt and shame that was tempered with doubt. His head throbbed, pulsing deeply in his brain. He was so confused. And he wanted to remember everything so badly.

What did I do?

Genos took his hands, and stood up, motioning for Saitama to do the same. Then Genos pushed Saitama forward, while simultaneously stepping back. Genos spread his wings, soft and feathery and so white and so pure, or maybe it was just Genos who looked like that.

"Sensei…let me tell you who I am, fully."

Saitama sniffed, confused. "You're Genos."

"I am not just Genos."

Saitama eyed him oddly, bemused. "…what do you mean?"

"I am all Genos. I am every Genos that has ever existed."

"What?"

"We each have spent more than one life, more than one timeline in more than one universe. But I am the last. I am everything. Every Genos is dead."

"Every Genos – how many Genos' are there? How many – I – wait," Saitama's brow scrunched in confusion. "Then…what am I? Am I…more than one?"

Genos thought for a second – hesitating? – and said, "You're just you, Saitama. You are one Saitama."

Genos stepped forward, impulsively, his wings curling around the both of them now, golden sunlight shining translucently through his white feathers. "You are…my favorite Saitama."

Saitama flushed. "Stop! Really!"

"I have many memories of you. I remember everything," Genos sighed, reaching his hand to brush behind Saitama's ear, cupping his face. "I…" Genos silently transformed back into the Genos with a metal body - almost unconsciously - "…I was in love with you. Am," he sighed, wistfully. "We were together, for so long…"

Saitama's breath hitched, heart racing wildly. He was panicking. Sputtering, trying to talk but failing.

Genos bit his lips invitingly. He drew them closer, eyes firmly fixed on Saitama's mouth.

"Sensei…"

Genos closed the distance, head tilted to the left and kissed him, his lips capturing Saitama's. Genos felt lightheaded, dizzy, but in a way that was so good – he kissed Saitama again, pushing and pulling against his mouth, skimming the harsh line of Saitama's mouth with his tongue. His arms fisted in Saitama's hoodie, keeping them achingly close. Pleasantly sloppy sounds of wet kisses filled his ears, so much so he almost didn't notice…

He's not kissing me back.


Stop chasing the inevitable

Never

he's so close


Saitama was quiet, processing this information with his head held down, and he found himself eyeing dainty metal feet. He chewed his tongue, then, softly,

"Why don't I remember you?"

Genos sighed, and his good voice came out with a sharp bitterness that coated his tongue. "Your memories of me…of your life with me were buried, destroyed. You were never supposed to know. That was your punishment."

"I…I think I need to sit down."

Genos obliged, and Saitama plopped down into the grass. It was soft, leafy. He sat with his back against a tree, staring out at the meadow. Genos sat stiffly beside him.

"Sensei."

Saitama's voice came out shaky, his head still whirling. "…yeah?"

Genos cleared his throat. "I…didn't answer your question fully, before. About who I am."

Saitama gazed at him warily. "…well?"

"I'm not just Genos."

Saitama pursed his lips. "What do you mean?"

"I am all Genos. I am every Genos that has ever existed."

Saitama's brow scrunched in intense confusion. "Uh...then...what am I?"

Genos thought for a second - hesitating? - and said, "you're just you, Saitama. You are one Saitama. "

"There are others...? More, of me?"

"Yes."

Saitama opened his mouth to ask another question, still perplexed and befuddled as all hell, when Genos reached out and placed his long fingers across Saitama's open lips.

"No more questions. I've told you too much already, more than any mortal should know."

Saitama scowled, and jerked his head away from Genos. "You were mortal, too, you know. The whole lot of you were."

Genos nodded miserably. "...I know. "

"Were...are all of the Genos' dead? Wait, wait that doesn't make sense. " Saitama groaned, his forehead throbbing painfully. "How can there even be more than one of you at all?!"

Genos spoke seriously, "That's actually why I broke you out - "

"Ahhhrrrghhh!" Saitama screamed, clutching his head. He stood up, but his knees were weak and he stumbled back onto the ground. He curled into the fetal position, his head pulsing and throbbing with such force, such pain – he groaned helplessly. "Genos!"

Genos had rushed forward immediately, but was thrown back just as quickly. He found himself being hurled by Saitama's rough hands into a thicket of bushes.

Saitama struggled to his feet, heaving, panting, dripping with sweat. It poured off of him, down his head and across his nose where it fell like raindrops onto the grass. He bared his teeth at Genos, his expression feral, almost savage.

"What did you do?" Saitama growled, pointing accusingly at Genos. "You did something! I know you did!"

"Sensei, please, calm down…" Genos said, the fear in his voice betraying his reassuring intent.

Saitama roared, a deep bellowing sound that shook with primal rage, and, like that of an animal who sensed its death approaching, trembled in the back of his throat with fear.

"Genos!"

Genos dropped to his knees in an instant, bowing so low to the ground that his nose brushed the grass, wet with dew.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Genos cried. "I didn't know what to do! Please, forgive me sensei!"

Saitama huffed. He stalked closer to Genos, and towered over the cowering cyborg. Genos wilted before him, head buried, his wings shivering. Saitama could hear Genos' low sobs, could see his back heaving.

Genos…

Saitama sighed, exhaling deeply through his nose. He tapped Genos' shoulder not-too-gently with his foot, and spoke sharply. "Get up. And be straight with me. And tell me what you did!"

Genos, shaking, got to his feet. He shivered, staring at Saitama's impassive face. Wet tears streaked his cheeks, his brow and eyes red from crying. "Sensei, please…" his lips trembled.

Saitama's expression remained stony. "Explain yourself."

"I…thought I made a mistake, dealing with you. I shouldn't push you so hard, I…" Genos choked. "I know you can't remember me, I know it's not your fault," Genos whispered, miserable. "I just…I couldn't help myself."

Saitama uncrossed his arms, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his gaze drifting down. "You…you kissed me," he said incredulously, his sharp eyes piercing Genos. "And then you..."

"I'm sorry," Genos whispered. "I tried to erase your memories."