"Baldy, why are you wearing a damn wig?" I sigh. "You realize that Garou got away, right?"
"Hmm," he nods. "Genos, King, Silver Fang and his brother are supposed to come over tomorrow night so they can recover, but they told me they're spending today helping the heroes who lost and just hunting some monsters as a squad."
I snort, "That sounds stupid. Like that's going to erase the problem as Garou as a whole."
"Well, they told me that Garou's not even allied with the Hero Association in the first place. He was just taken there hostage. They offered, he refused, and then they just stole him away," Saitama explains, and I cross my arms.
"I fail to see how hunting random monsters down as a squad is going to help anyone," I deadpan, tossing on a jacket. "And you still haven't answered my question. Have you finally become the god of insecurity?"
He scoffs, "No, I have this wig for another reason. But they said that they might be able to get some info from monsters as to wherever the Monster Association's full hideout is."
I hum, "Makes sense. So, come on. Tell me why you just dropped more yen than you ever would for a week to get a wig that looks like a Smart Mop."
"Oh, I'm gonna fight in this martial arts tournament! You know Bang's student, Charanko, got into the hospital, right?" He explains. I nod initially.
God, I know I hate people who are weak, but that mainly extends to like, people who are...complacent. Satisfied with being weak.
I don't like Charanko, but I respect him. It's not a lot, but I do respect him.
Wait.
Hold on a damn minute.
"Oh, no, no, no, you aren't going to this damn fighting tournament only to beat people up with a single punch!" I whirl, lecturing him. "What sort of idiot do you think you are right now?!"
"Aren't martial arts meant for fighting and stuff like that?" He shrugs. "If I can learn how people fight, I could probably beat Garou or whatever his name is."
I blink.
Very.
Very.
Slowly.
"Are you...a genuine idiot?" I slowly speak, the thought of needing to slow down for him to understand making its way into my speech. "You don't need to learn martial arts or something cause you already beat him with a single chop!"
I float up, grab his shoulders, and shake him violently, "Why would you go to a martial arts tournament if you're apparently so goddamn strong you don't even feel anything while fighting?!"
"I'm bored."
"So do something that's actually worthwhile! Fight some monsters! Find out where the Monster Association hideout is!" I insist. "Why go to a damn fighting tournament?!"
"Well," he clicks his tongue. "What if there are monsters that go there? If there are strong fighters there, that's bound to attract some monsters, right?"
I open my mouth to protest, only that he has sound logic. For once in his life.
"Fine. But I'm coming with to make sure you don't look like a goddamn dumbass the entire time."
I'm almost certain he is anyways, but I'm fine with that. Hell, sometimes, it's pretty damn funny when he messes up or somehow slips and seems really clumsy.
I wonder what it's like, to be able to be aware of literally everything around you, that much body sense, only to still slip on a banana peel.
"I don't look like a dumbass the entire time, you know," he indignantly scoffs, rolling his eyes without actually meaning it. "But this wig makes me feel like one."
"Makes you look like one, too."
The tournament, for a lack of a better word, was lackluster. Boring. Mundane. Everything you could say about waiting in a doctor's office would likely apply to the tournament as a whole as well as the fights that took place there.
Half of the fights that the spectators saw were just as one would expect from high-level martial artists. Sportsmanship, camaraderie, respect, all that.
Yet, the other half was simply nothing like the other fighting tournaments.
Between two fighters, who simply wielded what the other fighters had, two limbs were used. An arm and a leg. Cost nothing but their opponents' pride.
Throughout the entire tournament, Tornado had been recognized by an insurmountable amount of people, who all questioned why she'd bother being there without voicing their curiosity.
To Tornado, there were only two people who seemed remotely interesting: Suiryu, and Bakuzan, though the latter instantly fell out of interest when his overwhelming arrogance was shown.
However, Suiryu seemed to be a different case, as he seemed to fight in the same sort of style as Saitama.
That being said, he clearly had more style and affinity for flair than Saitama, though that likely had to do with his power letting him glide through life.
Their fight was the only interesting thing that happened in the tournament.
Yet, there was something that was itching at Tatsumaki the entire time that they were fighting. Something that seemed...unnatural. The air seemed tainted, almost. A foul taste was left in her mouth, yet she couldn't quite place where it was coming from. It certainly wasn't from some of the fighters, though she bet that some of their armpits definitely could produce that smell given how some of them appeared as if they hadn't showered since the 1960s.
Now, to say that Saitama looked like he was getting knocked around like a ragdoll would be a severe understatement. Yet, Tornado couldn't muster the energy to care. She'd seen him take on a literal planet-busting alien. If Suiryu could really deal damage to Saitama, or at least provoke him like the alien did?
It'd take a lot more than whatever kicks he was throwing around.
She had to admit, she respected Suiryu. Most people wouldn't even be able to move like that for a few seconds without being completely winded.
Yet, the main indicator that told her about Suiryu's real inability to pose a challenge to Saitama?
When he kicked Saitama...there was no movement.
The only time Saitama'd been legitimately moved by an attack while he was on guard was from Boros, and that attack didn't even hurt in the slightest.
This?
This was nothing compared to the monumental feat that was Saitama being moved by an attack.
And of course, to top all the boredom off, Suiryu interrupted the fight by talking about all these unnecessary desires, going for fun, getting strong because of it...it all seemed so...boring.
Like there was nothing to gain from doing all of this. Sure, the reality of it was that the strong had more freedom, but everyone already knew that.
Strength is power, whether anyone liked it or not.
Of course, when Suiryu knocked off Saitama's wig, that was pretty amusing.
"Charanko is disqualified!" The announcer yelled, as if it wasn't obvious that it wasn't even Charanko in the first place. "But what's this?! Suiryu doesn't care! He's still going!"
To Tornado, it was also such a huge hassle. It wasn't even because Saitama was her boyfriend in the slightest, yet the entire concept of him going to a fighting tournament to find a way to become stronger seemed useless in itself.
"The platform has cracked!" The announcer practically screeched, quickly backing away. The security guards who were instructed to stop the fighting cowered in fear, previously unaware of the power they couldn't hope to match.
"And what's this?! There's a monster alert! Everyone, stay in the venue until heroes come to take care of the issue!"
"Oh, guess I gotta do something now."
Huh? There's monsters out there? That's weird.
I guess I gotta cut this match short, don't I? That's a shame. It seemed like Suiryu was actually starting to have fun.
"So, I think I got it now," I clear my throat, bracing myself for the sheer impact of my own genius. "Martial arts is practically a way to move around fighting while seeming all cool and stuff, right?"
Ah, that must be it!
That's probably why Suiryu's super shocked, too, that I figured it out that quickly!
"So, lemme try..." I hum to myself, starting to spin around. I remember Suiryu whirling around like a Beyblade, throwing kicks and punches, looking sort of like a tiny hurricane. Almost.
He seems angry. Doesn't he?
"Take this seriously!" He grits his teeth, but I'm spinning too fast to see where he is properly and actually respond.
"Hm?" I mutter, before I feel myself make contact with Suiryu.
He flies, like a paper airplane.
"Ah," I click my tongue. "He took my belt." As I pull my pants up, I hear a few people recognize me. I think it might be some of the other heroes that came to this tournament.
"Oy, Baldy!" I hear Tats call out to me. I hum again, a bit bored.
"I'm gonna go take care of some of the monsters outside. Got it?" She points out there. "Good. Make sure you don't let anyone here get really hurt, okay?!" I nod again. As she flies off, I turn my head to Suiryu, who's being swarmed by the crowd in admiration.
Man, I feel bad for him. The paparazzi blows.
"So you must be the hero that's been popping up in the news," I hear Suiryu mutter. I'm surprised that he's still conscious after a hit like that. Not a lot of people could even survive that. I didn't mean to use that much force.
"Yeah, what of it?" I ask bluntly. "I'm just doing it so I can find a strong opponent, honestly. You know how you were talking about stimu-whatsit? Yeah, that's just me right now for the last few years."
He coughs, and I realize that I might have broken one of his ribs or something. "Dang, you want me to get you a doctor or something?"
"Nah, it's fine."
I shrug, accepting his words. Even with the crowd, his voice is distinct enough that I do end up remembering what it sounds like, and I leave him to do all that stuff.
Weirdly enough, he stands up. He's injured, and he's still got a bit of dust on him from the concrete, but otherwise, he doesn't seem too far off from what he looked like when he got serious. Cool.
As they completely swarm him in the end, one of the guys holding up a trophy for Suiryu, I shrug and head off to the changing room so I can get into my hero outfit.
Finding where to go is easy enough, but when I exit the stadium, I end up completely lost.
"Hey! He must be one of the fighters! Get him!"
Huh, that's weird. I've never seen a bunch of random monsters work together, other than the sea guys. The aliens don't count. They're aliens, not monsters.
Well, it's not like they're going to get past me. In fact, they barely seem to slow me down as I continue to walk to the changing room.
"Hey, why are you guys attacking me anyways? Aren't there other things you could be doing right now?" I ask absentmindedly, as one of the smaller one clings to my leg, biting through the karate thing I'm wearing. It's a lot more fragile than my normal hero suit.
"No! The Monster Association wants any strong fighters, and if you're surviving all of these attacks, you must be strong enough!" I blink. But I'm not a monster, though. Am I?
I look down at my hands. Nope. Still human.
"Uh, I don't know if you've noticed yet, but I'm human, not a monster," I blink, turning to another hallway. I feel like I've been walking for miles and miles, but I haven't seen any sign of the changing room.
"Well, we have these things that lets people turn into monsters!"
I hum, "Oh, that's cool. You know, there's this human that's been fighting a bunch of heroes who wants to become a monster, right?"
One of them gasps a little, "You know the Hero Hunter?"
I nod, "Yep. He tried attacking me but I knocked him out. Turned out I didn't even know he was the Hero Hunter, but I didn't hurt him more. He didn't seem to be too mean, just a little aggressive. Now, do you know where the changing room is?"
One of them let go of me in sheer fear, pointing me in the right direction while shaking. The rest of them stayed on me.
"Thanks," I nod to the monster, who sprints off in fear. I wonder why. I thought monsters were supposed to just keep attacking. Guess there's a lot more to them than I care to think about.
"So, are you going to get off of me?"
They only respond by biting harder. I'm glad that that guy gave me the suit I use now. It's super durable, and doesn't need to be washed too often. Plus, they can't bite through it.
Well, that's a shame.
I slap at them a little bit like they're flies, and they're down. That's a little disappointing, but I can't do anything about it now, can I?
Ah, there it is! I'll change into it now and just get back there.
By the time Saitama got back, it seemed like hell would be a better place to be than where the Super Fight tournament was held.
Most of the fighters were knocked out, death had run rampant throughout the city, and some of the strongest warriors had been turned into monsters.
And of course, by the strongest warriors, it only applied to Bakuzan, who wasn't even one of the strongest warriors in the first place.
Yet, as a monster, he felt like a god. On top of the world. Where the principles of good and evil simply didn't apply the same to him as it did to everyone else.
Where he could toy with everyone. Suiryu, Lightning Max, hell, even that bald asswipe that'd humiliated him in the second round.
Man, this is great! Bakuzan cheered to himself, holding two of his four arms up triumphantly. I'll be able to toy with any human that comes my way!
"Somebody! Anybody! Help!" Suiryu cried out, both legs broken, likely beyond repair for the next few months. "Heroes!"
"Oh, Suiryu. Sup," Saitama greeted. "Dang, I guess the monsters really roughed you up. Dang, that sucks."
"There will be no return!" Bakuzan declared, about to stomp on Snakebite Snek. Unfortunately for the monster, all he hit was stone as the already broken platform only broke a little more. No further damage was sustained.
Bakuzan blinked, "Huh?" He turned to the drop of a pin that he could hear, only to be met with the glaring light of the sun. All reflected off a good old bald head.
"I'll take care of it now. You fought well," Saitama complimented, setting the A Class hero down and turning around to face the towering four-armed monster. "Jeez, you look like you haven't washed your armpits in weeks. All of them."
Bakuzan narrowed his eyes, "I do not tolerate such insolence!" In an instant, he was right behind Saitama, kicking him like a soccer ball.
"Wait, why do you seem so familiar?" Saitama asked absentmindedly, scratching the back of his head as he skidded to a stop.
Just as he said that, Bakuzan gasped.
It's...IT'S HIM! He realized, gaping.
"You humiliated me!"
"Saitama! Run! I could barely scratch him!" Suiryu cried out, practically using up the rest of his energy to urge his former opponent. At this point, he was nearly certain he was done for, and would rather he used the last of his life to help someone else.
"Bear Killer Mid Kick!"
"Demon Sweep Low Kick!"
Is he using his body to take the damage? Suiryu wondered in shock, wondering how Saitama hadn't been broken yet.
"Nope. Can't remember," Saitama sighed, tossing his fist at the monster, instantly decimating him.
Suiryu gaped. He'd never seen such a strong monster before, not even on the T.V, and this man right before him destroyed him like it was play-doh.
"Jeez, what was that guy's deal?" Saitama wondered, turning around to face Suiryu. "I mean, I probably humiliated him just now, but there's like nothing that I did to him before..."
Suiryu blinked, barely able to comprehend the situation.
"You must be...the hero that popped up in the news..." Suiryu coughed up some blood. "Who...are you?"
Saitama scratched his nose for a moment, "Just a hero. Professional, I guess. Someone got me into the high ranks, which is probably why you've heard of me. People don't really like me."
"So, why did you come to the tournament?"
"I was bored."
Another blunt answer, and another blink of confusion. Suiryu decided to brush it off, since he probably wasn't going to get any answer that really helped either of them.
"Well...thank you for saving me..." Suiryu expressed his gratitude. "I'm glad you didn't come here earlier, either..."
Saitama interrupted, "Well, if I came earlier, wouldn't that have been easier?"
Suiryu shut him down, "No...You're lucky you arrived just after Gouketsu left...he was a monster, probably thousands of times stronger than Bakuzan...I don't even know if you would be able to take him down...that sort of strength...it's unfair, man..."
As if on cue, a blur flashed in front of Suiryu, causing Saitama to turn around.
"Jeez, and you said you were one of the stronger guys! Don't you idiots have any strong fighters?!" A female voice complained, tossing the figure around again. As the object in question, surrounded by a light green glow, slammed into the floor, Suiryu's eyes widened as he saw Gouketsu's eyes.
The monster was clearly struggling, but to no avail.
Someone caught his eye. He gulped.
Even if he didn't care about heroes, he acknowledged strength for what it was. Of course, Suiryu had quickly reevaluated the value of that sort of thing considering what just went on, but he knew his eyes weren't lying.
The Tornado of Terror had arrived.
"Oh my God, Saitama, I thought I told you to make sure nobody got hurt!" Tornado lectured, moving down to land in front of him. "Oh, and it's the champion dude. Guess you got screwed over, too."
Suiryu whispered, "You know the Tornado of Terror, Saitama?"
Saitama nodded, "Yeah, she's my girlfriend. Do you keep up with the news?"
Suiryu, somehow, became even more shocked, "You're dating her? But I thought she was the most powerful hero! You'd have to be...like, like a god to earn her respect!"
"I'm standing right here, asswipe," Tornado rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms; she knew he didn't mean to, but the fact was that he was acting like she was a goddess, an error many had made. "But yeah, he earned my respect as a fighter a long time ago. I don't need to get into how."
"Forgot something?" A looming voice came behind them, a shadow suddenly engulfing the three of them.
"Oh, you again," Tornado scoffed, holding out an arm. As Gouketsu threw a punch, it was easily received by the psychic barrier that she had formed.
"Hm, lemme try something...I've been hoping to use a new technique," Tornado muttered to herself, before it seemed like a coil of telekinetic energy quickly surrounded the monster's arm.
She closed her hand in a flash, and before he knew it, Gouketsu's arm had been chopped into pieces like finely cut vegetables. The monster howled in pain, but didn't refrain from going for another assault. He knew he wasn't going to get out of this alive, but he sure was going to fight for his life.
"Wow, that's a pretty cool move, Tats," Saitama complimented, not even paying attention to where the monster was as he tossed a fist at its leg, sending it flying.
"Yeah, I was reading some manga that King lent to me about this guy named Mob or something who can use some sort of psychic power. There were some pretty creative techniques that I could probably use, you know?" Tornado shrugged, showcasing another one by forming a long whip in her hands. "With this, I can visualize where I'm using my power and concentrate it into a sort of sharp sword instead of a crushing force."
Gouketsu scoffed weakly, his pride getting the better of him, "Whatever technique you have does not matter. You will both fall to Monster King Orochi."
Saitama held his hand up to ask, "Oh, that reminds me. Where's the Monster Association anyways? Is there like an address?"
"The Ghost Town in City Z, you fool. We are planning to launch our assault from there. Not like it matters that I tell you."
"Oh, that's why I keep finding so many monsters that Genos has to end up burning," Saitama realized as he finished Gouketsu off.
Tornado gaped for a moment, "Saitama, are you seriously telling me that you've been living near monsters this entire time and you haven't noticed that, maybe, just maybe, there was something wrong with it?"
Saitama shrugged, "Honestly, I don't really care. It's not like they're hurting anyone since Genos and I are the only ones who live there."
Meanwhile, Suiryu, who had simply been watching, had been completely shell-shocked, "Was...Gouketsu strong?"
Tornado shook her head, almost disappointed, "I was hoping he would be, but he really wasn't. I was just using him as like a training dummy to try out some new techniques, you know?"
Saitama nodded in agreement, "I can't really gauge how strong he was if I don't even need to turn to fight him, you know?"
Suiryu gulped, his throat dry as he whispered, "Saitama...do you think I can become a hero?"
Tornado snorted, "Yeah, once your legs heal. You could probably make it to Class A or Class S, depending on how you do."
"I mean, if I can, I guess anyone can," Saitama shrugged, squatting down to where Suiryu's level was.
"I got one more question."
"Shoot."
"Do you think...I could be your disciple?"
Saitama gained a serious look, and he glanced up to the sky, which had cleared.
Knocked out fighters surrounded the empty, broken stadium. The blood of warriors, monsters, and heroes had stained the platform and the bleachers, the silence deafening. It was nothing like the other cities where there was a shortage of heroes. Here, there were three S-Class heroes on standby. Saitama, Tornado, and of course, King.
"Absolutely not."
"You sure it was a good idea to leave him there, Saitama?" Tornado wondered as the two of them walked down the street.
"Yeah, I called 911 and told them about what happened," Saitama answered, casually slipping his hand into hers. They didn't show affection in public; they knew that was something they'd save for their own time. But there was nobody to see, and they frankly didn't care at the moment.
"Why didn't you take him as your disciple?" Tatsumaki asked, looking up at him.
"Cause he's already strong enough to know that he can make progress on his own," Saitama shrugged. "Besides, he already had a teacher, but he hadn't practiced in years. I'm certain that has something to do with it, you know?"
Tornado hummed, accepting the answer, "You know, we should probably be hunting monsters for the time being, you know?"
"I mean, we should, but all the heroes are taking care of it already. Besides, they're supposed to be organizing a fight on the Monster Association, right?"
"Mhm," Tatsumaki nodded, leaning her head onto his arm. "So, you learn anything from the tournament?"
"Martial arts suck."
Tornado snorted, "Duh. Anything new?"
"Not really...hey, Tats?" Saitama asked.
She looked up at him, waiting for him to speak.
"So, you know how you told me how Blast saved you?"
She nodded.
"Is he strong?" Saitama asked absentmindedly. "If he's as strong as the rumors say he is, maybe I could ask him to fight me or something. You said he has a ton of robots and is stronger than you with psychic power...so he must be fun to fight against."
Tornado rolled her eyes, her shoulders somewhat tensing at the mention of the man who saved her all those years ago, "Yeah, but it's not like I have any way to contact him. The only time I saw him was when he got me out, but he'd probably make you actually fight or something. If you do, just make sure you don't destroy the Earth or something. It'd be a bitch to find my things in the aftermath."
Saitama snorted, "You say that like I'm planning to destroy the Earth."
"Shut up."
"Why would I even have to fight him? It's not like we're on different sides, right?"
"I mean...yeah," Tornado shrugged. "But who's to say you guys can't just fight for fun, right?"
"I guess you're right."
Tornado clicked her tongue, not really knowing how to continue the conversation. There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, until Saitama spoke up.
"Hey, Tats?"
She hummed in response.
"Why'd you hold back?" Saitama asked. Tornado raised her eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
"When we first met with that purple guy. You held back. I could tell you were."
Tornado shrugged, "Honestly...I don't really have an excuse. I put a lot into it, but at the time...I didn't really care whether or not I was alive or not. You get what I mean?"
Saitama nodded, even though that there was definitely more to it than that (he speculated there was something else at play that was outside of anyone's reach), "Yeah...I know you cared about Fubuki and whatever, and hey, I have Tetsuya as a friend...but I feel like there wasn't really anything out there that'd make me angry, you know?"
"And something that made you angry would make you put in effort?"
"Yep. What's that for you?"
"I dunno, honestly. If anything, it'd probably be Fubuki being put at risk of dying, you know?" Tornado shrugged. "You got anything? You did say "wasn't," after all. You've got something now, don't you?"
Saitama planted a light kiss on the top of her head, making Tatsumaki blush a little bit.
"Yeah."
Saitama's eyes were uncharacteristically warm.
"You."
Tatsumaki flushed, instinct telling her that he'd answer that, yet she just felt it was way too cheesy for anyone normal to say in real life.
Unfortunately, she forgot for a moment that he was both anything but normal while being the most average person on Earth.
She punched him in the arm.
Saitama snickered.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Baldy. By the way, I got a question."
"Hm?"
"You wanna move in together or something?"
Saitama furrowed his eyebrows.
"Yeah, I know, super random question. But I'm getting pretty bored with how there is nothing going on at my place, and besides, if anything else, I could just live in the apartment next to you or something."
"You know what? I'll take you up on that."
Of course, neither of them knew how they were being so casual about it. From the minimal T.V and media that they did consume, they kept thinking that talking about moving in together was going to be such a hassle and just such a tough process.
But when the two of them could literally just do it in the blink of an eye? Travel the entire country in addition to moving all the stuff?
Didn't seem like anything more than the most basic, trivial issue, in reality.
