Author's Note: I didn't mean for this chapter to be so short, but I wanted to give at least something. I've been busy with work and I don't know how long these next chapters will take to write. Hope it wont be too long tho T-T. FYI, I suck at making chapter titles.
Genos had awoken to the crashing noise of rain slamming against the roof of the doctor's lab. With the overhead light turned off, everything besides a few multi-colored buttons were engulfed in darkness. The sound of the doctor snoring as he slumped over his desk echoed throughout the room.
His limbs felt a bit stiff, but he managed to sit up from the metal bed. He felt that he was fixed enough to have been able to walk. As quietly as he could, he changed into the clothes that laid beside the table next to him. It was not in his nature to snoop into other people's business, but he couldn't help but look over the doctor's notes. Although his wrinkled hands covered most of the page.
... conscious can not register the images from... sighs of progress ... continuing...
... data 73.9% erased...
Genos couldn't have gone any faster as he sprinted to City Z. Even through the blistering winds and heavy hail, nothing seemed to phase his determination. He did get a few scratched and dents from the pelting ice.
He couldn't get the words out of his mind. What the doctor had written, what could have it meant? "...data 73.9% erased ..." What could it mean? Could the data have been about some new computer that Dr. Stench was working on? A brand new invention? Or were the notes about... No. That would never happen. He changed his train of thought before he filled his mind with other nonsense. Instead, he had tried to remember the face that came with the name Saitama.
The building stood as tall and ominous as ever. When he entered the apartment, it wasn't a surprise when he found that the power hadn't worked. He used his night vision to look for something to light the room. Luckily, he found some candles and lit them on the living room table. There, he found the notebook he had awoken to in the morning. He sat down and skimmed the pages, hoping to find his name somewhere.
Nothing turned up.
All he ever found were dates that listed practical events such as laundry and shopping.
This couldn't possibly it. He searched in every nook and cranny for other books. A faint earthy smell, most likely from all the accumulated dust, filled the home as he combed the rooms for clues. Unconsciously, the cyborg had begun to clean up the dust. It was as if he was programed to clean. All he did was sweep the floor and wipe down the counter and tables. He continued his search afterward. He looked under the sofa, in cabinets, behind the empty bookcase and even in the fridge. With all the searching, he had found only one other notebook.
He flipped through every page of his notebook and found no mention of his faceless teacher. No mention of what happened to him or even anything about his memories. Genos found it strange that more than half the pages were ripped from the binding. If it were up to him, he would have been out searching for his teacher already. But the storm outside could pose possible threats to him.
He would begin his search tomorrow.
All he knew was that he needed to find his teacher. But he couldn't help but wonder. From what he knew, it felt wrong that his teacher would do something as to get up and leave. What could have happened to him? Why can't he remember his face? The more he tried to remember, the more faded the image had gotten.