Peace

by El Cato

Tatsumaki survived a gruesome death battle. Despite being victorious, she was gravely wounded. And is being cared for by the damn baldy. During her fight, she uncovered the final mystery that would close the final chapter of her life. But she found solace in the damn egghead. Troubled, she struggles to overcome her nature and find her inner peace. SaiTatsu (Saitama x Tatsumaki)

2. Chapter 2 - Hospitality

Author's Notes (2/14/2024): Happy Valentine's Day! I'm back! And just like I promised, Chapter 2 on the 14th.

I wanted to say, THANK ALL OF YOU for leaving a review. I read and replied to those that I could. I really enjoyed reading them.

I don't want to take up too much of your time. If there are any questions, you can contact me on Twitter: ItsEl_Cato.

Happy reading!

Saitama x Tatsumaki

Peace

- Chapter 2 -

Hospitality

Tatsumaki was unsure how to properly feel about this situation.

She didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone, period… but she couldn't use her powers. Completely and utterly spent. So she was at his mercy.

Yet this was the first time she'd seen him since their fight, and this was also the first time being held in such a way. At least, while awake.

She felt embarrassed being cradled. And the realization dawned on her.

He just saw her in her most vulnerable state, ever.

This wasn't a Monster Association type of ordeal, where it took a squadron of Dragon-level threats to take her down WHEN she was at her weakest. And she was unconscious when both Genos and King protected her.

The thought of them assisting made her feel disgusted.

Which made her feel even more enraged that this bald idiot she's been obsessing over (as Fubuki had so eloquently uttered when they last talked) not only just saw her, but also 'saved' her in her absolute worst moment to date.

She was at full power when she fought Hermes. Maybe a lot more than she estimated.

And he almost took her down.

She underestimated the man a lot. Six years of prep time? She thought herself invincible, and that notion felt heightened when it took so many Dragons to take her down while weakened. (still a very much hated feeling).

If she could get any angrier, she would. But she doubted she could muster the energy to feel so heated, she guessed–

"You did good."

He had cut her off.

She finally noticed the speed at which they were going. He had slowed down considerably, on purpose. She didn't know why but she knew he was much faster than this. She also knew that the initial burst in speed was much faster than his current pace.

But her mind brought her back to his words.

"I've only ever seen you so beat up after fighting a super strong monster." He noted. "To see you again like this, the monster must've been pretty strong, no?"

She didn't respond, but she listened. Better question, when did he see her like this? Was it during the monster association attack? She knew he was present. But he also saw her in such a vulnerable state?

Bah… Didn't matter. This whole ordeal made her feel terrible.

"Yet, with all the destruction, the first thing you did was save all those people." He looked at her, she looked back, their eyes firmly locked onto one another.

"Haah," she let out another sigh, and she felt a tingling sensation.

She squirmed a bit under his arms, it hurt doing so but she couldn't help it.

His amber eyes pierced her. Though she didn't feel uncomfortable. And she didn't back down either, staring likewise. She might've thought he looked expressionless, but the rain was tricking her into believing that. Because she could see a hint of concern.

He was the first to break the tension. "Sure, you practically nuked a whole neighborhood the size of a small town. And you made, like, maybe two to three hundred people homeless."

Her eyes deadpanned. The way he worded it pissed her off. And something told her he was still pretty sore about losing his place in City Z. Petty asshole. Learn to let it go stupid, no use crying over spilled milk. She was never going to apologize for that. She–

"Though, I'd like to amend what I said," he quickly added. "You're definitely a great hero. I don't think I could've done any better."

"Haah?" there it was again, that unknown feeling that made her feel tingly. His eyes were staring at her again. This time, his gaze made her feel weak. Why?

"Hmm? Are you sick? Your face is red."

She blinked and found that her face felt pretty heated, even when she felt the occasional contact with pattering raindrops.

"I-I just got out of a death battle egghead, have some fucking consideration!" she shot him a disapproving glare. He did not react to it at all, typical actually – didn't even know why she even bothered.

He turned away from her and hummed. He looked deep in thought, 'that's a first actually,' she thought.

He slowed down considerably.

"Why… are you slowing down." She cringed at how soft she said that, and the pain she felt throughout her entire body.

"I don't know where you live." He admitted.

She blinked and sighed. "My house got destroyed fighting him." She admitted. She also grit her teeth.

It loathed her, but she needed to say it. "To your place," she commanded.

She looked up at him and found him annoyed and upset about that. Or at least he wasn't happy about the arrangement.

"Listen baldy…" she breathed in, having already lost her wind. "I don't like it any better than you do… but I can't be seen like this…" she paused again, "it's bad enough you have to see me like this… but I guess you're kinda used to it aren't you?" she hissed out with a venomous tone.

He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, again eye contact, "if you're insinuating that I think you're weak, stop it." He chastised. She felt him speed up. "If the opponent was strong, then they were strong. There's no shame in admitting that."

She stayed silent, though she was unhappy.

Credit to Hermes, he was strong. His method to obtain that power disgusted her. But he used it as a tool to improve his output of power.

Everything else about him was pure skill and technique.

She didn't want to admit it to the bald avocado, but he was right.

She heard him hum to himself again, "Hmm… you're gonna have to wear one of my clothes. You're gonna owe me two jackets."

HUH!?

"What the –" she winced but continued, "the hell you mean I have to wear your clothes!? My hero suit is just fine! I'll just wash and dry–" another pause.

Two factors made her do that.

Number One: She forgot she couldn't call upon her powers. She had nothing in the tank, no energy reserves to call on. Even using a little of what she had left hurt her. Even when she fought Psykos, she recalled still having enough reserves to fight – albeit with great difficulty.

And Number Two: Her hero suit was completely torn, and most of her chest was exposed.

Her face turned scarlet. And her fury was skyrocketing. "You perv–"

"Before you start lashing out! I am not the one who destroyed your dress. AND I'm trying not to look. I made an observation, that is all. Plus, not interested." He added so quickly, with an annoyed tone.

She checked his face, and sure enough – there wasn't a hint of red in it. It could be that the rain was actively obscuring her vision, but she did notice he made the effort to look into her eyes.

"What the fuck do you mean NOT interested!?" she managed to screech out.

Saitama cringed, "out of everything I just said, that's the first thing that comes to your attention? I swear I don't understand you at all." He groaned.

"Answer the damn question!"

She heard him whine. Despite how angry she was.

She couldn't help but let out a laugh.

She tried to calm down and only succeeded because her body protested such movements.

"Uh, I'd rather not answer that. Feels like a lose-lose situation if I do – but it's not for whatever bad reason you think it is." He explained, sort of. "Can we talk about this, like never?"

She couldn't help but let out a giggle, even if her body protested. "you're lucky I'm hurt or else I would've cratered you into the ground."

He looked at her, eyes locking once again. There was a faint heat she felt throughout her body. And she was also annoyed by it, considering what just transpired.

He gave her a small grin and chuckled. "Heh, I'd probably prefer that actually."

She had never had a conversation with so much back and forth before. She couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. What was this feeling?

Then something else came to mind.

"What do you mean by owing you a second jacket?" she asked knowingly.

This time, he let out a laugh.

He smiled. So did she.

She felt herself relax in his arms. She hadn't noticed but she had snuggled closer to his chest.

The rest of the run back to the Hero Association Headquarters was silent, but not unwelcome.

---

City A: July 27, 2023 – 9:31 PM

His apartment was pretty small and cramped.

She honestly expected something… better, or at least more spacious. He didn't even have a proper bed, just a futon.

No couch either.

At least he had a TV, so he wasn't a complete and utter shut-in.

"You can let me go now," Tatsumaki chimed as she squirmed under his grip.

He hummed but didn't respond.

He looked around his small apartment, and let out a soft 'shit.' Seemingly realized something.

"Okay uhhhh… gimme a moment to think."

He set her down on the damn floor.

Then he blitzed and blurred inside the space, she caught most of his movements.

His swiftness was a feat that pompous Flashy Flash would be proud of… or maybe not considering he's probably really self-conscious. Some cave dwellers online and Flashy himself think he can beat her? HAH, preposterous.

When he was done zooming, he picked her up quickly. Without having much time to think, he set her on his futon. The texture of his bedsheets felt raspy, almost like she was resting on–

"Towels?" she asked, her eyebrows rose.

"You're wet, and I don't have a couch."

"Let me guess," she rolled her eyes, "I destroyed it?"

"Nah, never owned one so don't take the blame for it."

"What do you mean you never owned a couch? That is like one of the many things people buy!"

"That costs money." He stared at her with a deadpan expression. "Why would I spend money on a couch when I can just sit on the floor?" He explained it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you don't remember, I just recently got promoted to A-Class." He looked away. "Money is tight for me. C, and B-Class pay was honestly pretty bad. C-Class even worse," he muttered.

She stared at him with her mouth agape.

She inhaled, then exhaled.

"Oh my God." It finally dawned on her.

He's a cheapskate!

No wonder he made such a massive fuss about ruining his home! Whatever he owned must've cost him a fortune! (To his standards of course)

She wanted to desperately facepalm herself. She just let out another sigh.

She couldn't judge him for that, as much as she desperately wanted to poke fun. It would be in bad taste for her considering her own upbringing.

Wait.

…

"Hey…" she called out. It was a bit weaker than she would've liked, but he heard her. He turned to her, covering herself with his bed sheets. Even so, he stared into her eyes.

She felt breathless for a moment. And then it returned to her. Was she tired? His dumb, annoying, emotionless expression made her feel some type of way. She really wished he hadn't said the whole jacket thing.

She shook her head, and she sharpened her gaze on him.

"How long have you been a hero?"

He didn't reply for a good second, he turned his head to the ceiling. "Three years, and some odd months… I stopped counting after meeting Genos. Everything has been going by pretty fast."

"Hmm…" she thought absentmindedly. "I always thought he was mentoring you. How'd you end up meeting the Demon Cyborg?"

He stared at her oddly. "Whose that?"

She stared at him with no discernable expression.

He tilted his head in confusion. Then his eyes widened.

"Oh right, Genos." He chuckled awkwardly. "Um… I saved him from a monster. He got torn to shreds by some mosquito monster woman. Mosquitos suck, ehh?" he flashed a dopey grin, or at least it looked like one. It was a terrible pun, but she nonetheless understood the joke.

She gave him a dry chuckle, "Your mosquito joke sucks."

"Hey… I thought it was good– Hey! Wait! I see what you did there! Nice one." He smiled, this time it looked more sincere.

She smirked.

She weakly stood up. Towel in hand and covering herself with it. Her legs shook, wobbly.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Duh. I'm going to shower; I got gunk and flesh in my hair. If I had my powers I could remove the crap in my hair without much thought. But I have to settle with this." she blew him a raspberry.

"Oh… right." That did make sense. He closed his eyes and rested his hand on his chin. "You sure you can make it to shower without passing out?"

She let out a growl, "Of course I can moron! I don't need your help!"

"Bah, whatever. Don't pass out in my bathtub."

"Tch. Idiot."

She took a few wobbly steps.

"Wait," he said to himself.

She stopped. "What?"

He wasn't even facing her. It looked like the baldy was lost in his own little world, frozen in time.

He had a very serious face, almost like he had forgotten something really important… or he made the biggest mistake in his life.

She wouldn't doubt either of those two things were true.

She wanted to tap her feet, already getting impatient. "You got a problem, egghead?"

"You said you had gunk on your head?"

He still didn't face her, but she replied nonetheless, "Yeah."

"And if you bathe, then all that flesh will be in my bathtub…"

She stared at him blankly. It was like he wasn't even talking to her.

"And that means I would have to clean the tub…"

Yep, he was definitely talking to himself.

"I don't think I have enough alcohol or germ-x… meaning I have to buy it to disinfect it."

One would say if they saw Tatsumaki's face at this moment, it would resemble a comical dead expression one could draw in twenty seconds.

"I don't think I can survive for the next three days without a ninety percent off bargain sale, and those only come around once in a blue moon." She noticed that his facial expression steeled itself. There was something so funny and genuine about seeing someone get so serious over something so inconsequential.

She rolled her eyes. "You get paid in like four days. We all do."

She saw him badly shake his head. "Well… I don't want to clean my bathtub after you're done… and I need to shower as well…" While he was technically drier than she was, he still felt damp.

He would've said he felt cold as well, but he had become numb to these types of sensations.

"You know I can bill the HQ to have your tub fixed right?"

He thought about it for a moment, a long moment actually, "Nah, would take too long. It's night. Don't worry about it." He said as he scratched his chin, his eyes widened, and a small dopey smile took its place. "Be right back," she saw him speed away, he left an afterimage.

She stayed silent and stood for a few seconds, maybe ten – then he blitzed back into his apartment. A tad more wet than before with a–

"You've got to be fucking joke…"

He had a plastic kid's pool in his hand.

"This? Oh, this is where we give Rover showers," he gave her a dumb grin, but it turned to annoyance when he saw that it was slowly dripping water onto the floor.

Tatsumaki felt her anger rise, "Is Rover…?"

"Ah yeah, Rover's my dog." He's sleeping in the other apartment for today."

If she could, she would have blown up the entire room.

"If you think I'm fucking showering in that plastic crap I'm literally going to kill you." She threatened with her voice sounding like sweet honey.

For once, Saitama felt legitimate fear from the small woman. She sounded as ferocious as her mother.

He scratched his neck, "Chill, I'm just gonna remove the gunk off your head with this." He set it on the floor, with a small plastic 'plop' sounding throughout the small apartment.

He zipped out of his apartment again and came back seconds later with two metal chairs, they were soaking wet.

He set one into the kiddie pool and another right next to it. Judging by his face, he wasn't happy about his floor getting soaked.

He grabbed a plastic pitcher and filled it up entirely. He then stared at her.

She growled.

"I AM NOT–"

"It's just to get the crap out of your hair, cool your jets!" he groaned. "You told me you can't use your powers. And I'd rather do this than disinfect my bathtub – It's less time-consuming for the both of us."

'Hmph! More like it's less time-consuming for you.' She huffed mentally.

She wanted to protest badly; she didn't care if she ended up dirtying his bathtub. But he sadly made a point, she just wished he didn't.

She slowly pattered towards him, sitting on the damn metal chair with an angry pout. "Make this quick."

"Towel," he called.

She blushed. Teeth gritting.

"I can't see if you're wondering, and I don't have an extra towel that you can use – that one was cleaned yesterday." He interrupted before she could have time to fully process his previous suggestion.

She let out a massive sigh and handed it to him, he set it aside.

"I'm gonna start pouring alright?" he was surprisingly gentle about this, and she visibly nodded, her head lowering in understanding.

She felt the cold water soak her hair, and trail down to the rest of her body.

Then she felt his fingers on her hair, her head.

"Haah," she involuntarily let out a sigh.

"You good?" he asked, a bit surprised by her voice.

"I'm fine, just do this quick." she hurried him.

He hummed in acknowledgment. She felt his fingers explore her head. It was an odd feeling.

She felt him pluck something from her hair, and heard a small 'plap' hit the kid pool.

Yep, flesh. Disgusting.

She decided to stare directly at his kitchen. She noticed he had a little mirror. She could see herself and Saitama. His hands weaved fluidly around her hair and would toss gunk into the plastic pool.

"It looks like you're good at this, didn't take you for a cosmetologist."

She smirked when she saw him get annoyed.

She jerked back. Ow! He pulled her hair!

"Hey!"

"Deserved," he mumbled. But he did look upwards in thought. "On second thought, maybe." He said with a hint of sadness.

Hoh?

Tatsumaki, now intrigued. "Why's that?" she wasn't going to forget he pulled her hair, but she couldn't do anything about it for now.

"I probably would've made more money if I was," he admitted. "The monthly pay from the Hero Association is nice and all but it leaves me with very little. Sure, rent, water, and electricity is free… but City A is mad expensive." He rambled.

She queried her brow. She knew the A-Class got paid substantially less than she did. She was pretty sure she was the second biggest earner in and for the Hero Association. Amai Mask's influence is unrivaled, but she flat-out doesn't care. Plus, she might even have more than him considering how much he has to spend on advertising, bookings, shows, and all that useless crap she doesn't do.

Still, "I doubt it's that barren – A-Class heroes get royalties for their merchandise being sold. You're strong so you're bound to have some fans."

He scoffed, "Don't have that many. Maybe like," he looked up. "Six at best, and it's fine if I don't have many fans." he hummed and let another chunk of flesh fall to the pool. "I don't know what salary you've got but what they pay is hardly worth the wait." Through the little mirror, she saw him look at her with intrigue. Seemingly the topic of money intrigued him more than anything else.

"Hmph!" she smirked. "If you must know, from the association themselves I get paid over 30 million yen every month."

He practically choked.

"Though I don't use any of it really…" she muttered to herself with a frown. "Except if I'm dining out with Fubuki. Such an expensive girl that one." She muttered to herself.

"Hmm..." they stayed silent for a moment.

He kept running his fingers through her hair. And the sensation actively made her drowsy.

He gently pushed her head a bit back.

"What?" she snapped at him.

"You were leaning in," he informed her.

Her eyes widened and she turned around to hit his chest.

The turning motion and her little fist hurt her more than she probably hurt him.

"Sh-shut it! I'm sleepy! That's all! Hurry up!" she thought that if she yelled loud enough, it would be due to her anger making her face red. No other reason why it would be so atomic.

He gave her a perplexed expression and continued to focus on her hair.

Her face eventually cooled off and she was once again content feeling the way his hands trailed through her every strand of green hair.

He would warn her whenever he would pour water on her head. But still, the shock from the cold water - even with anticipation, jolted her out of this serene feeling.

"Hmmm…." She hummed, "You mentioned you could've made more money as a cosmetologist, who taught you?"

Saitama stopped trailing his hands and took in the soft way she spoke. It was silky and smooth.

"No one really," he answered truthfully. "I used to play a lot with mud, and I would get it all over my hair–"

"Hoh? You had hair as a kid? That's a surprise," she mused with a smug expression, then a second later she dropped it. "Don't pull my hair!" she exclaimed in a hurry.

He pulled it anyway.

"Bitch!" she yelled.

"Midget," He replied with an annoyed tone.

"Don't think I'm gonna forget this! You're gonna pay for that once I get my powers back!"

"Hmmm," he mused. "I'll be waiting.

"Tch, cocky! Arrogant! Baldy! Skinhead!" She shot off insults.

"Wha– small fry! Moldy Bread! Bacterial Dwarf!" He shot off insults.

She let out steam from her nose, "What did you just fucking call me!?"

She was about to let out all her fury and was on the verge of standing up.

Until she heard him sigh.

"I'd like to finish this quickly. It's getting late." He said with a monotonous voice.

Tatsumaki scoffed but otherwise remained stationary.

The feeling of his fingers on her head was rougher than before. "What's taking so long?" she asked impatiently.

"I don't know if you hadn't noticed… but," she saw him roll his eyes through the small mirror. "You got lots of hair, and every strand of it is curled up." He answered. "Kinda hard to remove all this gunk when your hair is so messy and curly," she felt him slow down, and she could feel him remove a piece of flesh and tossed it to the pool.

"You used to play in the mud and then what?" she inquired, trying to keep her mind occupied.

"Hmm?" he looked at her quizzically, though a second later he seemed to understand the question. "Oh. Um, my mom used to clean my head whenever I would play in the mud. Sticks, dried mud, the occasional pebble." He recalled, tilting his head to the side. "And after a load of times, I just kinda memorized how she would do it just by the touch alone."

She hummed to herself, "why would you play in the mud in the first place?" she inquired again.

There was a silence between them, an uncomfortable one.

At first, she thought she didn't hear her, but when she looked into the mirror, she saw the disappointment in his face.

"It was the only way I could get my dad's attention," he admitted. "It never worked as I planned though. And it just made my mom do extra work in cleaning me up."

His face returned to that apathetic expression she came to know. It was what embodied him, who he was.

It felt different, more of an exhausted expression. Defeated, even.

She huffed, "how long have you been a hero?" she asked. Hoping to distract the bald idiot from getting all depressed.

He seemed to know what she was trying to do and played along.

"Three years," he admitted.

"Three years huh? So it took you three years to reach A-Class?" she hummed to herself. "That sounds impossible."

"Hmm?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"You're strong." It was a fact, and they both knew it. "You would've reached your current rank in less than a month, week maybe."

He stared at her with a confused expression, "Where are you getting at? And how'd you know that?"

"You really are a dolt." She huffed and turned to him. "When I met you for the first time, you were in the B-Class right?"

"Yes, I think."

"That was like almost two months ago. The raid from the Monster Association wasn't that long ago, and you just jumped from B to A in just a short time despite being employed for three years?"

He looked annoyed, "again, what are you getting at?"

She huffed. "Stupid! Why aren't you in the S-Class?" she finally questioned.

He stared at her confused, and it was annoying her. "You're gonna make me glaze you up and down aren't you?" she huffed haughtily. She then averted her gaze. "You're stronger than everyone else I've met, except for a few people." she felt uncomfortable returning his gaze, but she pressed forward.

"You could easily be in the Top 5 of the S-Class, maybe Top 3…" she admitted fully. Since the current third-best combatant honestly had no right being so high up for his atrocious display during their raid against the Monster Association. What was his name again? Atomic Samurai!

Metal Knight didn't even participate because he got scared… or something like that. They really needed to update the rankings.

She heard him hum, she relented and looked back at him. He was smiling at her, with his big amber eyes on full display. "Glad you think so highly of me."

"Hmph!" she felt heat creep up her face. And she averted her gaze quickly – the action hurt her body, and if she could cross her arms, she would have. "Don't get cocky egghead! Just because I think you're a little strong doesn't mean you're stronger than me! Got that!?"

He didn't reply, he had that dumb, small smirk on him that pissed her off… and continued to ruffle and caress her hair.

She made an embarrassing sound, not expecting him to return to it. He pulled back his hands when he heard her yelp.

"I'm fine," she replied, red-faced and all. "Continue."

He did so, the gentleness of his touch soothed her. It gave her mixed feelings.

"You still haven't answered my question." She realized and pouted.

"Ah yeah," he chuckled softly. "What was the question again?"

"Tch! Bald bird brain! I asked why aren't you in the S-Class if you've been a hero in the association for three years!"

"Oh? No, you're mistaken." He stated. "I've only been a hero in the association for about three or four months? Around that time."

"What?" her eyes bugged out.

"Mhmm," he affirmed. Removing another piece of flesh from her hair.

"So you've been doing vigilante work for close to 3 years!?" she couldn't help but turn to him, despite her body's protest. "Why didn't you start three years ago? Did you have a job?" he shook his head. "Then how the hell did you survive?"

She was genuinely perplexed.

He looked away from her. He looked down at the floor.

Huh. So Baldy has his own secrets. "Fine, you don't have to –"

"My dad," he started. "He disowned me when I turned eighteen." He looked at the ceiling. "He told me that if I didn't want to go to college anymore, then I would have to work and mentor under him."

"I said no to both, and he kicked me out." He turned to a window, looking into the night sky and occasional association buildings.

"But he told me he wouldn't leave me alone in the world," he continued. "He gave me five million yen and told me to survive."

He sighed. "I wasn't good at maintaining it. I spent it without much thought. And when I realized I was starting to see a decline in my funds, I had spent around four of the five million yen in just five months."

She felt his fingers run through her scalp.

He returned her gaze.

She looked away, turning around. He continued to do his work.

"So I did the most I could with what I had left. I went days without eating. As long as I had water it was fine with me. I even had to boil water from a mountain stream. Had to add a little salt since purified water botched my lips."

"I realized when I turned twenty that I'd only have enough to survive for one more year. Living like a hobo and renting from a stupid old lady's place is just no way to live. So I went job hunting."

"And I was really bad at keeping a job." He chuckled.

She couldn't help but feel relaxed again.

"I got fired from almost every place that hired me… some I quit voluntarily." Another chuckle. "Despite having low funds I managed to delay the inevitable – but it was super depressing. Just a continuous loop of getting fired, getting paid measly. Getting hired, getting fired, bad pay… rinse, repeat."

"Hah," she let out a sigh. "That really is no way to live."

He nodded.

She felt him stop.

"I got a job interview a few months after I turned twenty-two. If I recall correctly, I think it happened in City A. I also didn't get hired. I think my mind at that point was just going on autopilot. And I was about 3 months away from going completely broke."

He huffed and rested his hands on her hair, "I met a monster after I got rejected. A crab one, he let me go because he said my eyes were completely dead."

"Dead eyes?"

He looked at her, "Yeah, like I said, I was nearly broke. I had nothing to my name. I was just doing daily grinds with no purpose. I was contemplating…" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind that, I was just not in a good place during those years."

Her eyes softened, and she simply nodded.

"Where was I? Ah. The crab thing said he was going to kill a butt-chin kid who marked his chest. I found the kid and saved him after the monster tried to attack him… he beat me up pretty good."

He started to move her hair again, "the rest was history I guess. Beat the crab, saved the boy. And trained for three years to reach this point." He finished. "Oh yeah, I ended up moving to City Z when there was an opening for an apartment that was incredibly dirt cheap. I managed to survive three more years because of how cheap the rent was. And I would use sales and coupons to survive."

He tossed a pebble that was in her hair. "This is just a hobby, this hero stuff. Just a hero for fun, that's all."

"Hmm?" she hummed. He started to sound a lot like Blast. "So how'd you even become a hero if you only enrolled like three months ago?"

"It was around a week or two after I saved Genos and he became my disciple," he recalled. "I didn't even know the hero association existed."

HAH! She couldn't help but giggle. She found that to be the most absurd thing she's heard from him. But it also sounded the most genuine.

He continued. "I ended up fighting some ninja that didn't recognize who I was even though I've been doing hero work since after the whole crab thing. Beat my ass silly, that monster."

"Ninja? You mean Flashy Flash?"

"Who?"

She chuckled, "Blonde spandex ninja. S-Rank... uh, I don't know, actually."

"Oh. No not him. This ninja wasn't a hero, and he has black hair... but he also wore spandex, I think."

Pfft. Why did ninjas feel the need to wear that? She just shook her head.

"You weren't as strong as you were before?" she inquired.

"Ah no, I had the strength of a civilian back then, I only got this strong like, a year and a half ago."

…

Her eyes widened to an immense degree, almost felt like they could comically pop out.

She struggled to find her voice, the shock that someone could reach her level in less than two years was preposterous. Even King's own autobiography stated he trained for ten years to reach his level. (And she was still certain she could beat him, although with some immense effort.)

"How?" was the only thing she could choke out.

The Baldly didn't look so pleased with that question but silently relented. "100 pushups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run." He listed off. "Truthfully, and honestly. No other augmentations or special abilities." He bemoaned, although, with a reassuring voice. "The honest truth."

He made it sound like he was tired of explaining it. And to be honest, it was truthfully hard to believe.

"I believe you," she said, truthfully.

"…" he looked at her oddly. "You do?"

He looked genuinely surprised.

She scoffed, "Of course I do. I mean it's hard to believe. But you're not the only hero who underwent immense changes through muscle training alone."

She scoffed, "King trained all his life to reach his strength. Darkshine used to be a wimp before being as grotesquely large as he is. Tank Top Master does nothing but train and lift. He and Tank Top Master have a podcast that encourages the youth to get into weightlifting. They're all weaker than me. But you're not the only person who did physical training to be that strong."

She looked away, however, "Like I said. It's just hard to believe that you managed that in less than two years. But I do believe it."

Saitama stared at her oddly, and let out a sigh of relief. "Wow, thank you! I wasn't sure anyone would've believed me, Genos didn't."

"Well, I'm not that tin can."

"That's true I suppose." He said as he flicked through her hair and removed a bit more mud.

She hummed in annoyance, "I still don't get it." Her eyes widened when a memory resurfaced. She shot him a wary look. "If you've been this strong for about a year and so – why did you start in B-Class?"

"So you were that strong when you got out of the spaceship?"

"Hmm? What spaceship– oh right, the one with Boros in it."

"Whose Boros?" she questioned.

"Just the alien leader, pretty strong guy, the closest person to give me a decent fight." He muttered absentmindedly. "Fun too."

"Decent fight?" She rolled her eyes, "Hmph!" She then felt him throw a bit more mud from her hair. "So, who do you think is stronger between me, King or that Boros guy?"

She could feel his confused stare, "What makes you think I've fought King?"

"He hangs around with you every odd day. You two morons are bound to throw fists." It was a good assumption, and she genuinely wanted to know who was stronger.

Saitama tiptoed around the topic of King. While it disappointed him that he would still keep up the charades, he would maintain that lie for his friend. "We haven't fought, King and I," that didn't mean he would also fabricate lies… just in case someone tried to confirm it with him. "We just play video games."

She turned her head to face him, "You're not even curious about which of you two is stronger?"

He mused, "Nope. And you make it sound like I'm at his level." He smirked.

She looked away, "I already told you." She crossed her arms, "you're pretty strong, and you can keep up with me. Only the best of the best can keep up with me."

She saw his smile through a small mirror. "Appreciate it."

There was a small silence between them.

A red comical vein popped into her temple.

He did it again!

"You still haven't answered my question!" she voiced loudly.

He chuckled, "I don't know to be honest…" he leaned closer to her ear. "Personally," he whispered.

That made a chill run down her spine. And her heart started racing.

"I had way more fun fighting you."

Her blush was scarlet red. She shook her head violently, trying to rid the heat on her face.

She could hear his chuckles.

'Idiot.' she pouted. And she let out a relieving sigh.

She finally turned to him. Standing on business, "You're strong! And you could've easily been in the S-Class and not have been in a financial struggle! Why didn't you just speak up!?" she pointed at him accusingly.

He was back to that nonchalant expression, "Like I said, this is just a hobby for me."

"I didn't become a hero for the fortune or the fame." His hand reached towards her; she tried not to flinch from the contact – but failed. She didn't expect it, was all. He tossed a stick that was in her hair. "I'll fight on, even if no one knows my name."

She stared into his eyes to see if he was being deceitful but didn't find anything.

She marveled at his response. But coughed to herself, and turned around when she realized she was staring into his eyes for a bit longer than she intended.

There was an awkward silence between them, he would occasionally toss another piece of gunk from her hair every once in a while.

"Ah…" he muttered. "Sorry about not cutting it down to size. I probably put you to sleep with my whole backstory."

"Heh," she chuckled. "You're just realizing that now?" he was an enigma. "You're a bit of a loser, you know that right?"

"Hey…" his voice lowered.

"Though what you said wasn't so bad." She admitted. "Nice to hear that you're not some fake hero or glory seeker. Or someone that takes other hero's credit."

Saitama held in a nervous chuckle.

"Although I will be the judge of that, you owe me a second test," she gave him a cheeky smirk.

He huffed, "I don't remember promising that at all."

"That's funny, I don't remember asking for your permission!" she smirked, "we're going to spar again one way or another."

"Tch, you're impossible." He rolled his eyes.

She smirked triumphantly. And her facial expression relaxed. "It's nice to know I wasn't the only cheapskate in this damn association."

"Hoh?" she could practically feel his eyebrows quirk. "Mind explaining?"

"Not really," She really didn't. She let out a sigh, "but it wouldn't be fair now would it?" she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

"No, it wouldn't," he said bluntly.

"Tch, asshole." She rolled her eyes.

There was a silence in the air, it wasn't uncomfortable though. She enjoyed feeling his fingers dig into her scalp, it was relaxing.

"So what about you?"

She turned around. "Hmm?"

"Why are you a hero?"

She was deep in thought. She never really had a concrete reason to be a hero. She became one because Blast was one and because Fubuki needed a role model.

Some role model she turned out to be, and she was far beneath Blast in terms of being a hero.

"I don't know…" she answered.

Saitama didn't say anything, he simply patted her hair. "I think you do."

She turned around in surprise.

He flashed a smile. "It's cool though, you can tell me when you're ready. Or you can tell me never, it's cool."

She hummed.

"My mom told me something that stuck with me for a long time. I understood it as a kid, but it holds more meaning as an adult."

"Hoh? And what's that?"

He looked up, trying to recall the conversation.

"I told my mom I wanted to be a hero, to impress my dad because he loved superheroes. He liked one specific superhero that I wanted to buy for myself, thinking I could impress dad… but it never amounted to anything."

"I was also weak and scrawny. At one point, I didn't think I'd cut it out as a hero because I couldn't even beat a bully."

He smiled fondly, it made her heart race.

"I still remember it to this day. I couldn't have been any older than eight I think."

"Belief is what shatters fate. That's what it means to be free."

She stared at him while he deeply fonded over a memory, seeing him that way made her feel anxious, and heat rose all over her body.

Then it all came crashing down.

"That was the last thing she told me before she passed."

She couldn't have looked away any quicker, the rising heat turned cold, guilt. "Sorry to hear that."

He waved her off, "You're good, don't worry about it."

There was another silence, this time it was uncomfortable for her, she couldn't quite tell in regards to him.

She sighed, "You shared another thing with me. I guess it's fair now to share about myself?"

"Only if you want to," he said.

She turned to him and mouthed out a soft, 'Thank you.'

She took a very deep breath. And exhaled.

"I've never said this to anyone ever," she whispered. "And I'll make your life hell if I find out you've spread this around."

He simply nodded, slowly.

Okay. She huffed. "I ran away from my adoptive home with Fubuki. She was five and I was ten." She explained.

"I didn't trust anyone, and not my adoptive parents. Anyone, period." She stopped. "I still don't."

"Figures," He interrupted.

She hit him.

"Asshole!" she exclaimed angrily. She huffed and continued, "So I ran away, and we landed in an abandoned apartment complex a few miles away from our old home… I used my powers to boot up everything, free electricity, running water… I made sure that Fubuki had everything she needed."

"At the age of ten?" he asked incredulously. "How did you – Ah right, psychic powers…" he muttered. "Would've loved to have that type of power myself."

She snorted, "Idiot." She lowered her gaze and slowly turned around to face him. "I would fly myself and Fubuki to school, preschool for her. And I would nab extra food from the cafeteria every day, so we had something to eat." She exhaled deeply, not knowing that she'd been holding her breath.

"Yeah, I imagine you didn't know how to cook as a kid? I can understand that," he empathized. "Ah, my bad – please continue."

She gave him a small smile, "You're oddly invested."

"Hmm…" he looked into her emerald eyes. "I bet Fubuki told you I have a short attention span."

"Hah, yeah." Her smile turned into a wide grin. However a memory resurfaced in her mind, and she halted her thoughts. She murmured something before speaking up. "She says you usually don't care about stuff like this," her eyes narrowed a bit.

He scratched his head, "Yeah that's true. It mostly stems from people not knowing how to pause and take a breather."

"Still though…"

He gave her his own small smile. "You're sharing your past." He explained. The glint in his amber eyes shined bright, and she couldn't look away. "You've never shared this with anyone right? This stuff's important to you, so I'm listening."

Haah…

That made her feel something inside, an anxious feeling. Her lips quivered, and her stomach felt hot. Her eyes were misty, and she gripped the towel she had on hand tighter.

"Your face is red, you good?"

She was blushing. She shook her head.

"I'm fine," she huffed haughtily. Forcing the red from her face to secede. "Since we were living alone and living off the food from school. Eventually, around the time I turned fifteen – I had to find a job to put food on the table for Fubuki. I worked as a barista at Starbucks."

"Hoh?" he quirked his eyebrow and smirked. "How was it."

"Fucking terrible," she cringed at the memory but also couldn't help but grin. "It wasn't difficult at all, psychic powers, and such. My mere existence had other people laid off. And they had me working every hour on the clock." She expelled air from her nostrils, "exploitive fucks!" She rolled her eyes.

"Bet they only increased your wage by a bit to compensate your talents," he mused. "But it wasn't enough."

"Tch! You're so right!" she felt like ranting, and she did. "I wished I didn't use my powers to serve all these people! It probably would've saved me the trouble of not being forced into that place for so long! The only good thing was that there was always a cashier present – so I didn't have to take anyone's orders."

She groaned loudly, "I probably would've quit if I had to talk to the customers. The managers there were immense assholes!"

"The money I made from working there was used to buy the cheapest products I could find in the supermarket." She finally reached her point. And she pouted, "turns out I was a terrible cook… and Fubuki was better at it than I was…" her pout grew bigger. "She ended up preparing my lunches for me… and herself because I couldn't cook."

She sighed, "The money I made there wasn't a lot, but it wasn't little either. And I also couldn't afford to quit."

"You stayed because of Fubuki," it wasn't a question, an observation.

She nodded, "I had to do it for her. Who else if it wasn't me?"

Her eyes were sharp. Their gazes bore into one another.

"When did you quit?" he asked.

"When Fubuki enrolled into university." She commented. "Monster sightings were uncommon in our early teens, and even in my early twenties. But once she entered university… monster sightings became much more frequent – and bounties were made for certain 'powerful' monsters at the time. And they paid much more than anything Starbucks could offer in a month." She rambled on in great detail.

"My time being dirt poor and taking from the school cafeteria taught me to use my money wisely." She hummed thoughtfully. "Though I guess, being rich now – it has dampened those instincts. There's nothing I can't buy or pay for anymore – even if I still don't spend much."

She let out a sigh, "the money I made as a monster hunter went towards Fubuki's tuition."

She noticed his amber eyes stare into her emerald ones. As if he was looking deep into her soul, his eyes widened for a bit.

He gave her the warmest smile she'd ever seen him show.

"You mothered Fubuki."

Haah…

It wasn't a question, he said it as a statement.

So he understood.

"Hmm… our fight makes much more sense now," he hummed.

"But I'm glad you're giving your sister the chance to make her own mistakes."

She pouted, "It's still… Hard for me to accept. She's been like my baby If that makes any sense."

"Nah, I understand. Mom didn't want me to make that many mistakes either. She coddled me a lot I won't lie."

"But she also made sure that I'd learn from the bumps and bruises I got when I did make those mistakes. Even if she patched me up right after."

"Fubuki probably felt suffocated. She was sort of unhinged when I first met her." He saw her quizzical look and waved her off. "Don't worry, she's not as unhinged anymore."

She let out air through her nostrils and smirked.

"You're being very chatty. I didn't take you as a chatterbox."

He laughed at that, "Yeah, I don't talk that much, to be honest. Unless I'm really invested."

That made her heart soar. It's something they both have in common actually (according to Fubuki), she didn't talk much either. Unless she was interested in the topic… or ridiculing someone.

"I get it… I'm bored," she said. "You're taking too long."

"Well if you turn around and let me finish then I'd let you hit the shower." He shot back. She 'hmphed!' haughtily and turned around.

The sensation of his fingers trailing her hair put her at ease once more.

Saitama noticed that she leaned into his hands again.

He recalled minutes ago how she reacted when he brought that up.

He'd keep it to himself this time.

---

Saitama sighed.

It took like fifteen minutes to finish up. Removing pieces of flesh, debris, sticks, and mud was a hassle. Technically, the only thing he wanted to remove was the mud and flesh since it was the most abundant, and it would clog up his bathtub.

It was mostly a silent fifteen minutes. Occasionally she would ask a question, and he would give a brief response.

From the few times he's talked to Fubuki, he knew that Tatsumaki never opened up to anyone. Communication with her was either extremely scarce (which is something they both shared in all honesty) – or it'd be a massive argument (something they also had in common… but not intentionally.)

It surprised him that she was honestly so vocal.

And to be honest, he probably knew why. Well, there seemed to be two reasons.

But it wasn't his place to bring them to light… yes they shared personal details about their lives.

But he doubted they'd see each other again after this.

He saw that she looked stiff and uncomfortable. She more than likely wanted to stretch, she had been sitting for about twenty-five minutes. So he could understand.

He quickly, but carefully folded the kiddie pool into a taco. Outside, and near the stairs, he tossed and stuffed the garbage bin with all the crap and liquid.

It was still raining. So he set the kid pool at a certain angle to get washed by the rain and returned home.

Upon returning, he went to his kitchen drawer and grabbed a plastic water bottle, walking towards her and offering it.

She accepted.

He then walked towards his closet and rummaged through it.

'Shit, oh man. She's not gonna like this,' he was already preparing for the potential scream-off. He grabbed a newly sealed plastic bag that contained new underwear.

He bought them yesterday, they were on sale and were very comfy.

But she's probably going to scream his ear off. But he wasn't willing to wait ten hours for her clothes to dry.

He also grabbed a yellow jacket. It was the only thing that was in his closet. He balled them both up and walked towards her.

She completely drank the entire bottle in less than six seconds. 'Must've been incredibly parched.'

She let out a deep sigh, she crushed the plastic bottle with her hands, he did see her cringe from the movement.

His eyes stared at hers. She looked at him back.

He handed her his jacket, and she unfolded it.

Her face turned scarlet, from embarrassment and anger.

And she was appalled by it.

Because the jacket had an 'Oppai Logo' on it.

"What the fuck is this!?"

"Hmm?" his face had an infuriating confused expression.

"Don't 'hmm?' me! You think this is funny!?" she was practically screaming.

"Jeez, pipe down." He stuck his finger in his ear to alleviate the pain. "It's the only thing I got for now. Just use it."

"There is no way I'm using–" she then noticed Saitama's underwear drop to the ground.

Her eyes widened to such a comical degree.

Time stopped for both.

The pressure in the room dropped several degrees.

She stared at him in indignation.

Saitama sighed, she knew she'd be angry, but to be this furious? Man.

"Listen, you can get mad tomorrow. I don't have any extra clothes, and I don't want to wait the next day to shower! AND I don't want you half-naked in my apartment." Her face turned more atomic, and her lips were quivering in pure anger. "Your dress is destroyed and it's pretty useless to even wear them." He pointed out.

He took a couple of steps into the kitchen and handed her a plastic bag. "Trash it in this," he said. "You can toss me around when you get your powers back, don't care. Just be cooperative." He let out a sigh and walked off.

Tatsumaki was seething, and the utter embarrassment of having to wear a man's wardrobe was sending her. She legitimately felt humiliated.

And he didn't even see that way, he was just offering her clothes to keep herself warm.

She expelled heavy amounts of air from her lungs. She was feeling incredibly heated which gave her mixed feelings. She was mad (oh so very,) but he was genuine about it too.

"Hmph! Fine!" she turned around and stomped into his bathroom. Closing the door behind her.

---

Saitama stared at the bathroom door for a bit longer than he would've liked.

He was just glad that she didn't make a bigger deal of wearing his clothes, it's not like he wanted to share them.

But he didn't want her half-naked in his apartment. That was just weird. 'I mean, I get it.' He thought to himself. He would feel embarrassed if the same thing happened to him.

He felt and heard his stomach churn. Signaling to him that he was hungry and that he needed to eat.

While trying to get snacks with King, seeing that massive mushroom cloud explosion distracted him from food… but now that his attention was no longer occupied. He felt the need to eat.

He didn't have much left in the fridge, maybe three days' worth of food if he was being honest. And he was getting paid in four days… talk about living life on the edge.

"Hmm…" he thought, "eggs with rice sounds nice." He didn't have any oil though… he'd probably have to scrounge through Genos' apartment… and that's if he even had any – his disciple didn't even need to eat that much.

While rummaging around his fridge, and getting everything he needed. He remembered that he had a guest.

…

He sighed and rested his hand on his head.

He couldn't just exclude her.

He was aware that his demeanor had changed.

Ever since Genos came into his life, he had been a bit more tolerant of other people's needs. (Even if they sometimes took it overboard.)

She was more than likely pretty hungry as well… especially since she just come out of a death battle with some powerful monster.

'Guess I'll make some for her as well,' he muttered. Now he probably only had tomorrow.

But first, he had to see if in Genos' apartment he could find any vegetable oil.

---

She closed the door and sighed deeply. She placed his jacket and… ugh… his underwear, on top of the toilet's tank cover.

The utter embarrassment. But he was probably so dumb he didn't even realize the implication!

A woman should never wear a man's clothes unless they're together! She didn't even LIKE HIM!

This asshole is so obtuse!

Plus giving her his underwear to don… she was just glad that no one would ever know of this.

And she would destroy his social life if he ever told anyone.

… She guessed it wouldn't make much of a difference, would it? He only had like three friends.

She sighed and let it go if she could still use her powers. She checked if she could call upon them, but she couldn't. Then this wouldn't have been an issue at all. She just had to roll with the punches for now.

She undressed herself, placed her clothes into the sink, and borrowed a new bar of soap. She cleaned her only remaining piece of clothing that wasn't destroyed (her undergarment) the best she could. She twisted it with her hands and watched as loads of water cascaded into the sink. She set it off to the side.

She knew that it would be pointless to wash her black dress and her bra. They were both destroyed. She placed them in the plastic bag the baldy gave her. And tied it. It was trash now, even if she would've preferred wearing ripped trash than wearing his clothes.

She shook her head and turned to the tub.

She turned the faucet on and watched the tub slowly fill itself up.

She noticed that he did have bubble bath soap, so she used it.

She placed her foot on the rim of the tub and slowly set herself on the warm soapy water.

The warmth made her relax. She could've melted right then and there.

She allowed this moment of serenity to wash over her.

No more baldy touching her hair. No more of his voice that confused her, and made her feel steamy. Whatever those sensations were, she'd be free of them for today. No more worries, just the warm soapy water that healed her body.

She hummed happily. She felt like she could fall asleep then and there. The warmth, the feeling, the calmness.

She felt at pea–

'Tatsumaki.'

Her eyes widened, and phantom memories of Hermes dying in her grasp flooded her mind.

Fist colliding with face. Heels jammed into the monster's head. Her body being stabbed by several large psychic constructs. The absolute vaporization of a subdivision. City A shaking from the shockwaves of their nuclear explosion.

She cringed and held her face with her hand.

'The sins of your past will haunt you for eternity.'

'Stop it,' she voiced mentally.

That man personified everything that she despised, everything she hated.

He was her reflection.

The voices would not end, and the images that reflected in her mind grew rampant and played faster.

It was starting to physically hurt her. She could feel a headache ensue.

A young Tatsumaki, covered in blood, panted heavily. She had just destroyed the Tsukuyomi grunts that chased after her. She would do anything to protect Fubuki, no matter the cost.

She groaned and shook her head, trying desperately to forget those awful memories.

'I keep telling you Imouto,' a teenage Tatsumaki scolded a young Fubuki. Slightly bonking her on the head. 'You and I can't trust anyone, just you and me.'

The fight replayed in her mind. The violence, the speed, his words. The power and display.

And how he almost killed her.

She dug her hands into her temple and massaged her head. Shaking it, trying to remove all instances of those memories from her mind.

But one refused to be silent.

Then… She saw him.

He was there in front of her, but she knew it wasn't real, he was dead.

His eyes were devoid of life. And it looked like an abundance of grotesque veins had rapidly spread across his entire body.

Was this how he saw himself in his final moments? Or was this own she saw him? Or...?

'You will never find peace.'

And like that, he was gone.

She clutched her head, she wanted to whine. The pain was starting to become unbearable.

No. She grit her teeth and took deep breaths. She would never show weakness to anyone. Never.

Though try as she might, the memories kept flooding.

She may have killed Hermes, but it seemed that his ghost wasn't done with her yet.

'Down to the last one.'

'Down to the last one,' she repeated in her mind. She thought that Blast had destroyed the final remnants of that living hell – Tsukuyomi…

His entire goal was to destroy them.

'Down to the last one.'

… Who was she kidding? She knew deep down in her heart she would bring the fight to them.

They took everything from her. They made her live such a closed life. They made her hateful, and spiteful.

Was she using them as a scapegoat? Was she truly to blame? Was she shifting the blame? Regardless of whatever the true answer was for her. She knew one thing.

Hermes was right. They had no right to continue their cancerous reach onto other espers, other innocent people…

Yes.

She vowed.

She'd kill them all.

Down to the last one.

She closed her eyes in resolution. The headaches subsided, but she no longer felt at ease. She had a new mission. One that she would adopt from the individual who almost killed her. And she would see it through. Maybe that's what he meant when he said that. Maybe revenge was all it took.

'You will never find peace.'

---

She didn't know what the hell had transpired minutes ago, only that it had soured her mood tremendously.

She recognized what it was. Her mind was reliving traumatic events of her past. Acute Stress Disorder (ASD). She was aware of what it was. ALL the S-Class were subjected to diagnostic mental health tests before ever joining (her included, but she lied about everything). And she knew that if it festered, AND if it continued, then it'd just be full-blown PTSD.

To think that someone could drag her back into that mental hell. She had silenced those memories years ago; she hadn't had a nightmare about Tsukuyomi since she was eighteen… and she hoped that it wouldn't happen again.

So many sleepless nights.

She sighed. If she did, then she would deal with it. She already beat it once before – and she would simply do it again.

She dried herself with Baldy's blue towel slowly. Despite the warm bubble bath, and the warm water rinsing her from above healed her aching muscles… it still hurt very much just moving at all. She realized she couldn't use the towel to wrap it around her head. And she knew that this was the only other available towel the Baldy had. She sighed and tried to dry her head as much as she could.

She trailed her fingers through her scalp…

Hmph… It didn't feel the same.

She then, unfortunately, needed to wear his god-awful clothes.

She just hoped nobody would ever see her in this position, she was already dying of embarrassment. At least the baldy wasn't a perv. And he literally told her he wasn't interested in her body.

Tch! Fucking asshole! She was desirable! She was absolutely the hottest person that Bald bitch has ever met!

Maybe he was gay. She didn't mind that, not one bit. It would make things less awkward between them.

He made her feel weird… in a way that wasn't negative.

She dreadfully stepped towards the toilet and reached for the man's underwear.

She lifted her legs and loosely lifted them towards her lower half.

…

It snugged nicely.

Maybe it was because her hips were wide enough to make them not fall off of her. It was a nice fit.

And she COVERED her face in pure embarrassment.

She wanted to die. SO, FREAKING, BAD.

She womaned up. And let out a deep sigh. She proceeded to put on his 'Oppai' jacket.

…

It was warm.

And loose. The fabric was surprisingly very soft.

It wasn't the best quality, but it was comfy.

Her face was also very scarlet when she stared into the mirror. And that was after she had calmed down from putting on his fucking underwear.

She felt her face heat up again.

'Oh my God, please kill me.' She looked up.

For some reason, she felt like he would have, maybe out of mercy or spite.

She shook her head and washed her face in cold water. Hoping to cool her off.

It worked, and using certain parts of the towel to clean her face.

She opened the door.

And she was met with a delicious aroma.

She was practically drooling.

A blush on her face returned. She had forgotten how hungry she was.

Saitama looked in her direction; he was cooking something. After a few seconds, his gaze returned to the pan.

"Making eggs with rice," he called out.

She didn't respond. Only nodded.

"Made enough for the both of us," he remarked.

She frowned, "I didn't ask you to cook for me."

He frowned back at her, "Wow, I also don't remember asking you." He said that with a huff. "You're eating regardless." Her eyebrows quivered upward. THAT was a command.

"Hoh?" she smirked at him, amused. She slowly walked towards him.

She stopped when she was at his side. "You're telling me what to do?" she asked with honey in her tone. But her eyes told a different story. "Don't you feel brave?" she gave him a challenging smirk.

He booped her nose with his finger. The action startled her.

"My house, my rules."

She stared at him.

"Tch," she looked away. "Fine." She would just coincidentally omit the fact that she was hungry.

Grrrrrrrllllll…

…

Why out of all moments in the physical, metaphorical, and astral visible universe did her stomach decide to betray her?

Her eyes widened when she heard the baldy chuckle.

She huffed and turned around, not wanting to face him.

It seems that he was already done cooking, however. (Fortunately for her)

He grabbed two plates and served her a decent portion. Handing her a plastic spork (a combination of a spoon and a fork).

He also set down a glass of water, for each of them.

She thanked him for the food and dug in.

…

It was amazing.

Maybe that was just her hunger talking, but she was eating faster than she normally does.

"Slow down," he suggested. "Foods not going away."

She glared at him. She grabbed her bottle of water and drank a good amount of it. The cold drink did wonders for her soul.

"You were hungry huh? Is my cooking any good?" he asked with a little smirk. She rolled her eyes as she watched him continue to eat.

"I've had better," she remarked. Though he didn't respond to her, just drank his cold water. "But I guess," she looked away, "it was good." A small tint of rose hit her cheeks.

That made his eyes widen. "Ah, thanks," Saitama looked down at his bowl and grinned.

…

Hmph. She chowed down on her food with a small pout. Out of all the things he is or isn't, was or wasn't.

A cheapskate, a lazy ass, a knucklehead mcspazatron.

Cute… Was not what she would have ever described him.

But she surmised that all people on this earth had their moments. Even this eggheaded baldy.

"So," she started. "Where are you going to sleep?"

He looked at her with an odd grin. "So keen on kicking me out of my own home?"

"That's–"

"I'm joking," he chuckled. "I have spare keys to Genos' apartment." He replied. "Genos is with his doctor right now. Not sure what it's about but I think he's getting a software upgrade or something like that," he rambled, then he continued eating his food.

They both stayed silent for the duration of their late dinner. The baldy had been oddly kind, and hospice. She did remember from their previous battle that she would search for him whenever she wanted to test his abilities… though he flat-out rejected the notion.

And while she did not care about his opinion in that matter… it was odd for someone who didn't even want to see her to treat her so well.

It was odd.

"How did you know I was there fighting?" It was a dumb question; she knew she created a massive mushroom cloud. But still, she wanted to know.

He hummed, "I was with King playing video games until we both got hungry," he explained. When we got outside, from above, we saw a bunch of people huddling in the main lobby." He paused, "then there was a massive tornado in the distance, and I sorta just knew that was you."

Ahh, yeah, she created that as well didn't she? She didn't remember actively making it, the powerful form must've just made it subconsciously… she wondered if she could draw into it again…

She looked at her empty plate, her face flushed for a quick second. She was hungry huh? Her eyes flashed when she realized she just repeated the dumb Baldy's words… asshole!

Her thoughts were interrupted when the mention of King registered her mind. "King knows?" she started to worry.

"That you're here?" he questioned, and she nodded. "No," he affirmed. "He kinda just went home after he realized it was you that was fighting."

Tch, typical.

"After the tornado turned into a nuke, I immediately went and dashed towards the explosion." He started and looked down to his chin.

Why? "Why?" she vocalized it.

"Why were you there?" she asked again. Why did he look for her? "Why did you help me?" she said a bit louder. It's not like he made it apparent he wanted to see her again. "Why did you save me?"

That question had plagued her from the moment she recognized his voice.

She knew in her heart she wouldn't have accepted his help. But it was a better alternative than the whole world knowing that she is not this invincible hero. But he didn't care or question, he just… did.

He looked at her, eyes boring into one another. He lifted his right hand and rested it on his chin. He looked deep in thought, contemplating his words.

"I was worried," he finally explained. "And when I got there, I felt like it was right for me to go."

He was worried? "Worried…" she repeated… "Explain," she demanded, unbeknownst to her, she leaned closer. Wanting to hear his explanation.

He looked even more confused, or rather – more contemplative.

It took him a solid thirty seconds for him to finally respond again. "I can't find the proper words to explain it. Never been good at that," he admitted. "And thinking of it, there's probably a multitude of reasons that I can't think of at the top of my head…" he sighed.

She sighed as well.

"But your eyes…" He started.

That made her perk up, intrigued. "When you were on the ground, and you stared back at me…"

That powerful gaze returned; his amber eyes shined like a roaring star.

"You looked like you were asking for help."

Haah.

Her eyes widened. The unknown feeling resurfaced again. It had become such a common occurrence these last two hours she was with him. Her entire body felt like a fluttering mess, her palms became sweaty.

She bit her lip, hoping to stop it from quivering.

Her hands subconsciously gripped onto the jacket she was wearing. Hope the anxious feeling will die down.

She gulped involuntarily.

Why was he like this?

Everything she kept hearing from him… the little stories that Fubuki told her about him. Their fight, and the patience he had while fighting her.

He worked to contain her wrath rather than openly challenge her.

She watched him continue to eat his dinner. What he said was messing with her emotionally, on a level that no one except Blast had ever done.

He said it so nonchalantly. Without hesitation. With no fear.

She breathed in, and breathed out.

Why was he like this?

He worried about her. She bet he didn't even like her romantically.

Yet he treated her well. His hospitality was iffy, but he didn't need to.

He could've easily told her to use the Demon Cyborg's apartment.

But he willingly gave up his room for her.

She could've billed some sad sap Hero Association employee to fix his bathtub when she would inevitably ruin his tub.

He cleaned her hair anyway, he insisted. So she wouldn't have to clean it herself.

They talked; he spoke to her… like a person.

He didn't even try to suck up to her. Like people, the jokes they shared. The banter that followed after, and their life experiences.

Something she has never shared with anyone, not even her sister.

Why was he like this?

He wasn't a hero for fame. Hell, in his words, he would still be one if no one appreciated what he did.

Was he speaking from experience? Was it confirmation? Nothing he said was ever a question.

Despite being poor. He never sought monetary gain. With his strength, he would be just as wealthy as her, King, Amai Mask, Metal Knight.

Was it a code of honor that prevented him from jumping so high up? Did he want to experience what it was like being among his peers?

And he saved her.

He didn't need to. He could have left her alone and watched as the cameras from the news helicopter recorded her weak and pathetic disposition.

She destroyed his home. He could've taken revenge by letting the world see her as a pathetic joke… and no one would take her seriously.

But he didn't. That just isn't him… even she can admit that. He asked no questions. He just did what was right.

'… I think you'd be a great hero if you abide by that.'

He parted with her his wisdom.

'Yet, with all the destruction, the first thing you did was save all those people.'

Despite her shortcomings, he praised her for her heroism.

'You're definitely a great hero. I don't think I could've done any better.'

He praised her for her efforts. And admitted to his limitations.

'You looked like you were asking for help.'

He didn't ask for anything in return. He helped her when she didn't want it, but when she needed it. He told her he was confident she'd win. But he still sought her out.

'You good?'

He was gentle with her. His fingers caressed her hair. Making her feel welcomed, and safe. He made sure she was comfortable the entire time.

'You've never shared this with anyone right? This stuff's important to you, so I'm listening.'

He was perceptive. For someone who couldn't hear past the first twenty words of a sentence… he heard her out. He listened, and he did not judge.

'You mothered Fubuki.'

He…

Understood her.

He saw what not even Fubuki could see.

She and Fubuki may be sisters.

But she was her mother.

She wasn't the best. She had her faults. In hindsight, she could've done a far better job.

But her sister was her pride, her joy, her life, her soul.

She would do anything for Fubuki. She would go the distance, cross every bridge… or burn it. She was flawed, and she would admit it. But nothing in this world would ever not love her dear sister.

And he saw it. What Fubuki, couldn't see, or couldn't understand.

He understood her.

Why was he like this?

"Oh no…" hearing Saitama's voice woke her up from her stupor. She lifted her gaze to meet his, and she saw him with a concerned expression.

"Uh, please, don't cry." He pleaded. "Sorry if I said something out of pocket."

Cry?

She lifted her arms. Hands touching her face.

It was wet.

She noticed that her vision had become blurry.

She was crying.

And she couldn't hold it in.

She cried loudly.

Bawling.

To his credit, Saitama knew what he had to do. It was something that he had been accustomed to. It had been a long time, but some things can't ever be forgotten. However, he wasn't sure how she would react.

She tended to be extremely volatile, and unpredictable.

But his instincts and experience guided him.

He walked up to Tatsumaki.

And softly held her in his arms.

To his surprise, she immediately accepted his embrace.

He was stunned, but he adjusted.

He let her cry her eyes out, holding onto him. She nuzzled her head on his chest and continued to sob.

She was letting go of every emotion she had bottled up.

She toppled over him; both fell to the ground. But she remained attached to him.

He patted her head, ruffled her hair, and whispered soothing words of encouragement.

This was all too familiar with him.

They remained on the ground. He let her vent out all her feelings. He envied her for it but at this moment…

He knew she needed a helping hand. The eyes of someone who reached out for help, for comfort. At least in that very moment.

She was proud, much like him.

But even then – everyone needed a helping hand.

Emotions. The very idea seemed so alien to him now. He'd taken them for granted, and he never got to experience what it was like to feel.

But from the distant memories, the vague yesteryears that he could recall…

He would cry and bawl to his mom. She would hold him and soothe him.

He was grateful for the things that she taught him. Feelings… they were complicated, but they told the truth. The thing that emotions yearn for is what the heart desires.

Still, he had no right to envy her. She willingly expressed these bottled emotions to him, whereas she would never dare to share this with anyone else.

He didn't know her too well. Fubuki sharing small snippets of her character didn't give him the full picture.

She didn't seem so bad, definitely didn't have a good impression of her at the start…

But he could not abandon someone in need.

No one was invincible, in either body or mind.

---

It took a long time to calm herself.

She had just cried her heart out to someone she didn't even know.

Was it that she was so desperate for human interaction that she would cry to the first person she met?

…

No. That was preposterous.

She would have never stooped this low for anyone. Even if they tried to understand her, change her, or change for her – the idea sickened her.

She didn't need to be saved, she didn't need to OR want to be changed. She didn't want people to change for her.

Love was something she had never sought, and she had never looked for a partner in her life, ever.

She…

…

… Did not know.

He sought her out on a whim and saved her when she expected no one to arrive.

Was that a lesson he taught to the Demon Cyborg?

No wonder the kid had no self-preservation…

He knew she didn't need saving. She could have saved herself in time.

But he hammered into her head that there was nothing wrong with a helping hand.

It was starting to feel like she was coping. Deep down… she is grateful he arrived.

He didn't need to come. And in so, she'd be ridiculed by the masses, but she'd be fine as is. She would force them to respect her again, make them dread the thought of poking fun at her.

And she was glad that didn't come to fruition, because as much as she loves the sound of her voice and the strength that she wields.

She sounded like every bully she ever met (that she dealt with). And that was an era she wasn't proud of. She'd do it again in a heartbeat. They targeted her sister.

But this dumb baldy didn't want to change her. He told her to live her life how she pleased, just to be mindful of the consequences of what she does to the people around her.

She had been trying that for a long time. But it just never came out right. She didn't care much about her peers… but she could never manage her relationship with her sister. No matter how much she tried. She always felt like day by day – she was alienating Fubuki.

And finally…

He understood her.

Nobody had seen the dynamic she and her sister shared. Not even Fubuki herself saw it. And it just felt liberating to know someone else could see it. What she sacrificed for the both of them… but she would do it again in a heartbeat if she needed to. She loved her sister dearly. And she was delighted to see someone else see what she did for her.

She wasn't perfect at it; she had her faults. But she was taking steps to improve that. Fubuki was talking to her now… granted, every time they talked. Fubuki always ended up bringing up the Baldy in some way.

Just that fact alone made him know her more than anyone else in this world.

Yet, he made no advances to her at all.

What he did for her today…

His assistance, his hospitality, his gentleness, his wisdom, and his understanding.

Was done out of courtesy and respect.

Would any other person try to make advances on her? Profess their undying love? Justify why their existence should matter to her? Make her love them? Or just patiently wait for her to realize that she might have fallen? Just because he saved her, did it mean that she had to fall in love with him. She knew that, they both knew that, she could feel it.

She was aware that people like that existed in this world. She was aware that most women, when asked these questions, would answer yes. She had the displeasure of meeting such people… to think she'd fall for the weak and the ordinary. Hell, even the strong.

That was an insult to her.

She was no one's damsel in distress. She didn't need that, a savior.

She didn't need some schmuck in her life. Even if he or she was strong. Especially not the weak.

Would he expect her to fall for him? To hug and thank him? Seek him out as if a spark ignited their feelings? The idea was repulsive. And full-blown disrespect for who she was.

He did none of that. She could feel his sincerity.

He truly was being hospitable, for her good.

He didn't have a secret crush on her or anything.

Instincts purely motivated through heroism.

He didn't expect anything in return.

To expect something is not a hero's calling. They both knew that. Not a hug, a kiss, or any form of sexual gratification. He stood by his words.

To him, she was a person that was pleading for help. He offered his helping hand. If she'd been a completely different person or someone of the opposite sex, he would have done the same.

To her, she knew that the moment she walked out his door… she had the choice to never meet this bald man, or his group of friends ever again.

And he'd be okay with that.

Just like, in that hypothetical scenario: she'd be okay with it too.

She could forget this whole encounter with this man for the rest of her life.

She'd forgo the test, and never set foot in his life for the rest of her days.

Would he be glad? Would he care? Or would he be sad?

Better yet, did those questions also apply to her?

…

It was embarrassing to think that she willingly embraced him, a stranger.

He confused her. Nothing he did made sense to her. But at the same time, she understood his reasoning completely.

She was still in his arms, she pressed herself further. He felt warm, and welcoming, and she didn't want to let go.

This feeling scared her. Because she knew what this feeling was.

She refused to accept the reality that just hit her. But she knew that her embracing him told a different story.

But she didn't care, she snuggled closer – this felt right. And she was willing to admit it.

"I think you should hit the hay," he suggested. His voice had jolted her out of her thoughts, but she was so deeply enveloped in his warmth that she didn't want to let go.

"C'mon Tats," he pleaded.

Tats…?

Hmph… Cute.

It fit her; she would never say that to him though.

"Hmm," she purred. She finally opened her eyes.

He saw the way she looked at him, her eyes misty, half-lid.

And she bore such a beautiful smile.

'Can you carry me to the futon?' she internalized her thought process, she felt too weak to stand. "Carry me?"

And she somehow said it completely wrong… and her words died out. This was so embarrassing! If she could expend the energy, she knew her face would turn a deep crimson.

"Haah?" she heard him let out an involuntary sigh.

Their eyes were locked onto one another. His breath hitched a few odd times. And his grip on her slightly weakened.

His face was a mixture of confusion and interest. It was hard to see truly, but she could see a hint of pink in his cheeks.

That… made her heart swell for an unknown reason.

"Okay…" he replied. He composed himself, returning to his normal reserved self. Lifting her up and gently guiding her to his bed.

He tucked her in.

He didn't need to do that… and she was too tired to blush from such an embarrassing gesture.

He gently stood up and walked towards the kitchen, grabbing the keys to the Demon Cyborg's apartment.

He turned back to meet her gaze, "goodnight Tatsumaki." He gave her a final nod before turning around and walking towards the door.

"Night, Saitama," she managed to squeak out. It was cringy to hear herself so weak. But she was still hurting all around.

She noticed him stop. He didn't turn around, but she could see from the edge of his face… a soft smile formed.

She saw him close the door behind him. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep. And she slept soundly.

---

He'd forgotten to shower.

'What time is it now?' He pulled out the new smartphone Genos had gifted him. '2:57 AM?'

Yep, very late, he would've been asleep almost three hours ago.

Having combed through Tatsumaki's hair had taken a long time… especially since she was so adamant about turning around and talking with him.

She was distracting herself, even if she wasn't aware of it.

And they talked, for almost six hours.

That's insane, he'd never had a conversation even last that long.

And when she cried in front of him, and she used his shoulders and chest to cry her heart out… faint memories of his past resurfaced.

His mom, Saiki Kageyasu. And his dad, Sato Kageyasu.

The way his mom would overwhelmingly shower him with affection, and how his dad showed him very little.

He was never much of a troublemaker – it wasn't his thing… but he knew he had his fair share of crazy stories to get his father's attention.

Nothing ever worked in his favor.

And seeing the green-haired esper bawl her eyes out.

Reminded him of how he used to be.

…

He let out a long sigh. Unaware that he had been holding his breath.

He noticed in the far corner, Rover sound asleep… and the little monkey that followed him around. He wasn't sure what his name was. He could talk and he definitely at one point told him, but he can't even be bothered to remember.

He shook his head and grabbed a towel.

He didn't know why Genos bought one, it's not like he ever needed to shower… the kid's mind was sometimes an enigma on its own.

Maybe he subconsciously bought things like he did before he turned, maybe.

He chuckled as he entered and noticed that Genos' bathroom was much fancier than his. He also noticed it didn't have any body wash.

'Please tell me you have soap,' he pleaded.

Genos didn't.

He sighed, 'I guess I can't blame him for that. He's a robot, he doesn't need to do basic human hygiene.' However, it came to question why Genos even had towels in the first place.

Whatever, he'd just shower tomorrow in his place, discreetly.

'Oh,' his eyes grew larger.

Tatsumaki was hurt pretty badly. And while he didn't see any puncture wounds… or any wounds for that matter, she did notice the dried blood on her chin and certain areas on her body. She also had visible puncture wounds on her dress.

So… she had a healing factor he wasn't aware of. That was pretty cool.

But that meant she was still hurt, and he didn't know how long she would stay for.

If they hadn't talked so much. And in his opinion, had multiple pleasant conversations (and deep ones as well). He doubted she would be okay staying for more than a day.

It's not like he didn't know she'd had to leave, but he hadn't had such a pleasant conversation in a while. A long while.

Playing with King, although fun – was starting to get more stressful. He appreciated Genos, but recently he had to start to think more critically of his responses… since Genos' new wave of doubt the last time they sparred started to affect his mental fortitude.

It was nice just talking to someone for a change. That didn't look up to him or need him.

It was ironic since just a few months back, he would've thought such an idea was a waste of time.

Saitama turned on the faucet and allowed the water to cascade onto his whole form.

He knew he was slightly different. He wasn't blind to his own transformation. While he couldn't say his emotions returned to him. He knew he was more expressive. He owed it all to Genos.

'Carry me?' His eyes shot open when the faint memory of Tatsumaki nudged his mind.

Her soft fair skin, the mist in her eyes, and her soft smile.

He had lost his breath.

He didn't know why either. It's not like he liked her romantically or anything.

He respected her, and she was a great hero.

Still.

Her expression, her soft voice.

It called to him, and he was unsure what that truly meant.

He twisted the faucet in the other direction, and the pouring water dissipated. And his mind wandered.

…

In hindsight, fixing up her hair was probably not a good idea.

His younger years were starting to come back to him. Memories he would rather have kept buried.

'You need to do better son. Your grades are unacceptable.' He didn't try to fail, he just wasn't good at studies.

He whined as fingers explored his scalp, 'Mom can we hurry this up?' She laughed and tugged a tuft of his hair, making him yelp. 'Almost done dear.'

'Go clean yourself up, mom's not here to do that.' His words cut deep. He knew his dad loved him, but he never really expressed it.

'Why do you insist on playing in the mud?' his mom asked.

His expression was downcasted, 'It's to get his attention.'

Saitama was brought back to reality. He used his left arm to support himself.

Memories of his past.

He hated remembering.

They reminded him of his past failures. What he had failed to change. How much time he wasted.

And he took the one person that wholeheartedly loved him for granted.

There were times when he hoped he could go back in time to fix all his mistakes.

It was a shame something like that was an impossibility.

Saitama shook his head.

No.

There was nothing he could do about the past. Nothing he can do about it, what choices he made in those years shape who he is now…

… that didn't help him at all actually, it just made him feel worse.

But it was the truth, nonetheless.

There was no do-over. Once someone makes a choice, they live with it that for the rest of their lives.

Saitama dried himself with the towel. It was so odd having so much extra space. It mostly felt completely alien to him.

…

He just recalled that he didn't bring any clothes with him. He left them on the counter while he made food for both him and Tatsumaki. He groaned, and hoped, that Genos had extra sets of clothing. He knew his friend was taller.

Luckily, Genos had extra clothes in his closet.

He was also surprised to figure out Genos was taller than him… he never paid much attention to that. At least he wouldn't be falling asleep naked.

He looked at his disciple's wardrobe. None of what he saw was his style, but he didn't have any other options at the moment… he didn't want to wake her up. She'd make fun of him, so he would make do with what he's got.

So apparently Genos was really into a certain type of designer clothes. Can't say he blamed him, he liked designer clothes too, though he the funny kind.

Genos had his futon; he knew that he could sleep in any way he could. But he was glad that his friend still preferred soft fabrics.

He laid himself on the bed and closed his eyes. In the black void of his mind, the last mental image he saw was of Tatsumaki's soft smile.

The last thing that he remembered before sleeping was smiling in return to the mental image of Tatsumaki.

-End of Chapter-

Author's Notes: Just to clarify; this chapter was done before the reveal that Rover and Black S had a dog house. (In the manga)

With that, Chapter 2 is done!

Come back on the 28th of this month (February) (2/28/2024) for Chapter 3!

If there are any questions that you'd like to ask, follow me on Twitter at "ItsEl_Cato" (There's an underscore between 'El' and 'Cato'. Hope it doesn't remove it after I post this.

JUST IN CASE, I have to delay, I'll make a post of it on Twitter (I doubt that I'll need to, but just in case.)

Hope you liked this, don't forget to leave a review.

Happy Valentine's Day! Goodbye!