Fubuki brought popcorn to Saitama's next "party."
Tatsumaki ignored her. Phase One of the plan was surprisingly simple in practice. She was small enough to have plenty of real estate on King's lap without entering any... danger zones.
Huh.
The view was pretty good.
If only King's muscles weren't so tense. The idea of him taking the lead had been floated by Fubuki at their first strategy meeting, but almost immediately punctured by the man himself. The King engine sounded like it was about to combust.
He still hadn't explained how the strongest man in the world wound up with anxiety, but Tatsumaki couldn't exactly throw stones. It didn't hurt that she had gone from feeling mild apprehension at the sound of the King engine to something like... satisfaction.
This time, as she heard it somewhere above her head, the feeling was more like solidarity.
"Okay," squeaked King. He cleared his throat. "Now you need to go into the game files and delete her character."
"What?" Saitama's brow furrowed, and Genos reached forward to smooth it out with a padded thumb. He had to reach forward, because he was sitting behind Saitama, like a human backrest pillow. He was even holding Saitama's beer.
Neither of them seemed to have noticed Phase One.
"You have to delete her character file," said King, in something that almost sounded like his normal voice.
"Won't that mess up the game?"
"Just trust me."
"That's what you said when I started playing this," grumbled Saitama, but he handed over the controls to Genos, who swiftly navigated the system files to highlight .
"King-san is correct, sensei. You should delete her. She seems like a stalker."
Saitama took a swig of his newly recovered beer. "You're one to talk."
Genos vented steam.
"What are you guys talking about?" asked Fubuki. She offered some popcorn to Tatsumaki, who accepted it, only to throw it back at her. Genos had cleaned it up in under ten seconds.
"Oh, Genos decided to do his own version of a background check before asking to move in with me," said Saitama. "It involved telescoping lenses and stakeouts."
Genos gave a hangdog look, in the sense that he looked like a dog who was about to be hanged. "Sensei has not forgiven me."
"Well, stalking is pretty invasive," said Fubuki.
Saitama scratched his chin. "That's not why I'm mad."
"It was one French fry, sensei."
"The only long one!"
"I prepared you several servings of extraneously-long french fries in recompense!"
"Oh, those were good. Can you make those again?"
Genos beamed, a little too literally for Tatsumaki's taste. "Certainly, sensei!"
"You… You guys are ignoring the best part of the game," said King.
Phase Two plan required some mental preparation.
They had to go big to get Saitama's attention, and they had to go equally big to get Genos' attention off Saitama, but they couldn't go any further than their targets had. They'd voted on the most outrageous thing done by the pair in their collective company, but since Tatsumaki actually had to do it, her vote counted twice.
King had abstained.
"Hey, senpai." She was already blushing. Tatsumaki hated blushing. It clashed with her… everything. "Would you rub my neck?"
Some modification was required to compensate for her organic anatomy. Genos had actually asked Saitama to blow the dust out of his nape-port.
"Of course," said King. He was back to squeaking.
It looked more like he was about to break her neck.
Fubuki looked a little pissed even though it had been her idea. Tatsumaki had voted for spoon feeding, and King had gotten so red his scars looked pale by comparison and muttered something about core repairs. Tatsumaki had ended up voting for Fubuki's idea because she wasn't sure she could do this and still keep food down.
"Oh, is your next sore from looking down on so many people or from craning up to actually see them?"
"Fubuki, please do not speak to your sister so disrespectfully," said King. He did better this time, pitching his voice to sound almost exactly like Genos had at the hotpot party.
"What do you think you are doing with sensei's meat, Blizzard of Hell?"
They looked at their hosts expectantly.
Saitama glanced up from the spoon he was trying to hang off of Genos' nose.
"Genos gives good neck rubs."
The cyborg popped his metal knuckles in a way that was surely not intended to be threatening.
"Who else is hungry?" asked Tatsumaki, only a little wildly. "Here, senpai, I'll feed you."
Of course it was ramen.
There was no dignified way to feed another person ramen and that was the more dignified option. Chopsticks were fiddly enough without telekinesis, but Tatsumaki used her powers to catch any broth that escaped before it could stain King's shirt.
Although... if she did spill, maybe King would let her pick his outfit next time. Genos was always buying clothes for his sensei. Saitama even gave Genos a shirt once. It had been purchased at a discount and said, "Have you hugged your computer today?" Genos French-hemmed the armholes and only wore it when Saitama was around to protect it.
Tatsumaki knew this because of the demon-level AI attack on M-City. It used a powerful EMP to disable anything electronic. All S-Class heroes were called in to evacuate people from elevators, trains, and their own panic rooms. Except, of course, for Drive Knight, Metal Knight, Child Emperor, and Genos.
Saitama made Genos put on his favorite shirt so he wouldn't run off and try to help anyway.
"Are your hands in pain, King-san?" asked Genos.
"It's, um, repetitive-motion stress from all the games."
"I did not know even video games could be bad for a human body. Perhaps sensei should play less-"
"You might want to ask for Fubuki's help instead," suggested Saitama. "Reaching that high can't be good for Tatsumaki's neck."
Fubuki face-palmed.
"Does your head hurt, Fubuki? You guys could have told us if you weren't feeling well."
"We were feeling fine before we got here," Fubuki told her palms.
A green aura surrounded a pork cutlet and lifted it to King's mouth which he opened obediently. Tatsumaki let go as soon as she felt resistance, but she made sure to spill a few drops of broth on his shirt.
"Good?" she asked, as soon as King was finished chewing.
"Um," he said. "Yes."
"Good," she said, and picked up another. She looked at King to make sure he was ready, and he offered her a shaky smile. His King Engine kept time, the only sound in Saitama's small apartment, until it was interrupted by a soft click and hiss.
Genos was venting steam again.
Huh.
Got one.
