'In that case… why don't you get strong?'
'Being an example is important, especially for an S-Class hero. Right?'
'Right?'
'Right…?'
"Right…"
Saitama opened his eyes groggily.
"Sensei?" Genos asked, pretending not to notice that his master had been awake for quite a while. "Are you okay?"
The bald man sat up and sniffed the air.
"You made sandwiches?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Yes, sensei. It is eight o'clock in the morning."
"Oh. Can you pass me one, then?"
Saitama's eyes looked distant as he ate.
After finishing his food, he stood up.
"I'm gonna take a walk," the bald hero said. "Alone."
"… Should I prepare lunch for later?"
"No need. See ya."
"Goodbye, sensei."
The door closed quietly.
Genos muttered to himself, frowning.
.
.
The hallway leading up to Saitama's apartment was arid. The morning air which brought a refreshing chill from the night before had settled, and the first signs of the midday heat were beginning to surface. The soon-to-be visitor, however, was unbothered by this — too preoccupied with the questions and anxiety swirling in their mind to notice the creeping warmth of noon. She took a deep breath.
Knock, knock, knoc— ow!
The door to Saitama's apartment opened before Fubuki could finish. Her hand hit the door awkwardly hard, forcing her to stifle any reaction in front of the cyborg who appeared to greet her. Barely even a moment in, Fubuki was already regretting her decision to come.
"Blizzard of Hell," Genos spoke, peeking out of the door. "What do you want?"
The girl straightened her posture and put her hand in front of her mouth to clear her throat.
"Is Saita—"
"No," Genos replied. He made to shut the door, but Fubuki quickly placed her foot against the opening.
"Wait!" she said, peeking sideways into the apartment. "Please."
The cyborg was not amused.
"If you have come for your coat," he said. "It has been confiscated."
"What? No, I'm not here for— what does 'confiscated' even…? No! Nevermind all that," Fubuki stammered. This was going horribly. The very first step of her plan had gone horribly wrong, and she hadn't considered any alternative at all! What with her anxiousness to find out more about the baldy and ask him about the goings-on in the S-Class, she had never even imagined that he wouldn't be home.
Fubuki sighed.
"Listen," she said to the cyborg. "I think we all got off on the wrong foot a few days ago."
"The wrong foot?" Genos' tone was sharp. He opened the door wider. "I do not think there can be any misunderstandings about you attacking sensei."
"He mocked me!" Fubuki said defensively. "He slandered the name of my group and all of our hard work! "
"Sensei would not berate those undeserving of beratement," Genos said, frowning. "And under no circumstance is that worth an attempt at his life. Goodby—"
"But!" She exclaimed, pulling on the door handle. "That's why I'm here now! To talk to him about it! If you'd just let me in… I promise I just want to talk."
"The fact remains that Saitama sensei is not here."
"Well…" Fubuki's mind raced. There was a solution here somewhere. A surefire way to get to the one-track-minded cyborg. Considering her conversation with him before — his over-awareness of her sins against his sensei and such — there was really only one thing she could say.
"How about I talk to you while we wait?" Fubuki said. "About Saitama, of course."
Genos' ear twitched.
"Mmm," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps…"
The cyborg ruffled through his pockets, bringing out a notebook and flitting quickly through its pages. He nodded every few seconds — a sign he was considering her offer, perhaps? Fubuki didn't miss it. She decided to hammer the nail in her little problem's head.
"Should I also buy a notebook?" she asked.
"A thick one, if possible. And some pencils," Genos responded, closing his notebook. "There is a bookstore right outside of the ghost town's gates."
"Got it," Fubuki said. "I'll be back right away."
The girl turned away and walked briskly downstairs.
As soon as she was out of view, she clenched her fist proudly.
'Gotcha!'
.
.
The hallway leading up to Saitama's apartment was unquestionably hot. The noontime sun had left its mark on the building of concrete, and a swell of heat had found itself stuck in the narrow hall. As far as the weather forecast went, the heat wouldn't settle anytime soon — the soon-to-be guest was well aware of this, of course, and was quite anxious to get out of the sweltering outdoors.
Knock, kno— ow!
The quick response came in exchange for bruised knuckles.
"King," Genos spoke, opening the door. "What brings you here?"
"Just come to play some games with Saitama," the scar-faced man replied, holding up an unopened box, still wrapped in plastic. "A new one just got released today."
"He is not here," Genos said flatly.
"I see. Um, you look a little annoyed," King said, tilting his head. "Did you two get into an argument or something?"
"It is nothing to be concerned about."
"Okay… Then do you mind if I stay inside and wait for Saitama? It's kinda hot out."
The cyborg nodded and walked aside to let him in.
As soon as King entered, he was greeted with an odd sight: the Fubuki girl he met a few days ago, sitting by the table and copying from Genos' notebook frantically, as if trying to copy answers for homework due the next day.
.
The raven-haired esper looked up dully, almost not registering the new guest. After hours of being lectured about Saitama's achievements, peculiarities, hobbies, habits, diet, and sleeping patterns, the esper wasn't sure if she could think straight anymore. She was actually sure that something had broken in her brain while trying to wrap her head around everything she just learned.
He destroyed a meteor? Handled the Deep Sea King? Battled a secret underground genetically-enhanced creature that when enraged, would rampage for a week?
And each — all in a single punch.
Surely Genos was exaggerating. Why would such a hero be in B-Class? After taking the exam and finding out about his battle prowess, the higher-ups must have— ah. There was a written test, wasn't there?
Fubuki snickered.
.
King looked oddly at the esper, laughing by herself across the table.
"Is she okay?" the scar-faced man asked Genos, who was making his way back to them.
"Blizzard must be overwhelmed with joy, now knowing what I know about sensei," the cyborg said. "Which is good, since we have only covered half of my learnings."
Upon hearing this, the raven-haired esper promptly went silent.
"Do you wish to join us?" Genos asked King, oblivious.
"I'll… pass," the man answered. "Don't mind me."
The cyborg complied, picking up his notebook and resuming his lecture.
.
.
The hallway leading up to Saitama's apartment was cooling down. The harshest waves of noontime light had passed, and the tides of the afternoon sun replaced it. Still hot, just less so. The soon-to-be guest paid it no mind, however — he was used to working with discipline no matter the temperature. It reminded him of his master, however, and his heart was struck with a bit of pain. He was desperate now. And the odd pair living in this apartment were his only hope.
He took a deep breath.
"ANYONE HOM—"
BAM!
His face was met with the door, and he reeled back fiercely.
"Mmm. Sensei is taking a while," Genos muttered, only registering the fact that Charanko was definitely not his master.
"Ow!" the novice martial artist groaned, clutching his forehead. "Ugh…"
"Silverfang's weakling student," Genos noted. "What are you doing here?"
"Charanko! My name's Charanko… and… I'm not his student anymore," the young man said. "He sparred with me, beat me to a pulp, and told me to leave. He visited here yesterday. Did he tell you something? Give any reason as to why?"
"Silverfang?" the cyborg said, only now noticing the bandages around Charanko's body. "All he did was come to fix our apartment. This behavior seems uncharacteristic of him."
"Then why…? Why send me away and be alone?"
"To tie loose ends, perhaps," Genos' expression turned serious. "And go after the Human Monster, Garou."
"Garou?!"
"Yes. Perhaps you should come inside to discuss this matter with the others."
Genos gestured into the apartment.
His lecture with Fubuki would have to wait.
.
"…Garou, hm?" the raven-haired esper said thoughtfully. "There has been buzz in the Blizzard Bunch about a warrant to capture him. Apparently something happened in the Association yesterday."
"Details have not been publicized, however," Genos added.
"Garou was Bang's top disciple. Before he attacked everyone in the dojo and was expelled," Charanko said somberly. "I didn't know he was this much of a danger…"
"For Silverfang to take this seriously, the situation must be dire," Genos said.
"Still, we should have faith in Silverfang," King said. "As his teacher, he should be able to handle Garou one way or another."
"Grh!" Charanko stood up, shaking the table. "I'm not letting that idiot ruin things for everyone again. Master Bang shouldn't have to go out of his way to stop that freak!"
The orange-haired student ran outside and out of sight.
Genos shook his head.
"A student needs to take his master's teachings to heart. However harsh those teachings may be," he said. "He is not ready."
He turned his head towards Fubuki.
"Write that down."
Fubuki groaned.
'Whatever Saitama's doing,' she thought, scribbling down angrily. 'It better be worth it.'
.
.
'This is so not worth it,' Saitama thought. 'I should have just stayed home.'
The bald hero sat back on a gray sofa, tapping his feet. He looked over to the Association worker at the front desk. Maybe he asked the wrong person or something? He couldn't really tell anymore. It was like the sixth 'front desk' he asked at this point.
Saitama scratched the back of his head as he got up. He'd been waiting for around thirty minutes at this lobby alone, and, as with all the others, gotten no response. After five attempts at busying himself in the food court or clothes stores, he was getting a little tired.
"Hey, uh," he said, walking up to the lady typing away at her computer. "Can I just follow up with the whole 'allowing me to go to the apartments' deal? I'm just looking for someone I know there."
"Sir," the girl looked up at him. "I've already told you that apartment viewings need a prior reservation — and asking for the… Tornado of Terror's apartment? I thought you were joking. Were you not… joking?"
"No. I've been waiting here for like half an hour," Saitama said. "Did you not see me?"
"Er, no," the girl said, not wanting the man to know she had been ignoring him. "I'm really sorry, sir, but I'm afraid you don't have the authorizations at this point. Ordinary citizens need to follow policy."
"I'm a hero, though," Saitama said.
"Yo-you are?! Why didn't you say so?"
"Yeah, I'm in B-Cla— are you telling me I could've started off with that?!"
"Yes! In that case, you should have gone to lobby G. They mostly handle hero business, Mister, uh…" The girl typed quickly. "Mister Caped Baldy."
Ah, yes. His brand new hero name.
"I see," he said, grimacing. "Thanks."
.
"Mister Caped Baldy, is it?" the receptionist of lobby G asked, flitting through a clipboard. Saitama flinched at the name. "You seem to be of decent standing in the Association — and are quite close to reaching A-Class as well. A tour of the apartments can be scheduled right now, if you wish."
"Nah, I've already spent a bunch of time waiting around," he said. "I know someone there is all. Mind if you just show me the way?"
"We'll need to call the unit to ask if you can be let in," the receptionist replied, grabbing a phone and another clipboard. "Who will you be visiting today, sir?"
"Tats," Saitama said. "No wait…Tornado, was it? Terrific Tornado, or something."
The girl behind the desk went silent.
"The Tornado of Terror, sir? We, uhh, have received her express disinterest in receiving calls," she said. "A-are you sur—"
"Her number's right there," the bald man said a little impatiently. "I'm sure she won't mind if I. Just."
He grabbed the phone and the clipboard, much to the lobby girl's absolute panic.
"Apartment 001, huh?" he noted, finding her name and number as soon as he read the list. He dialed it in. "Fancy."
"Sir! I'd really appreciate if you—"
"Hold on, it's ringing. Ah, Tats!" Saitama said. "Hey, yeah, I've been trying to get to you for hours! Yeah. Since like, ten o'clock. No, no. I've been shopping around, too. Not much on sale here, though. Where am I right now? Uhh… lobby G, I think— ah, she hung up."
The bald man returned the phone and paper to the girl, then sat down on another gray sofa. It seemed comfier than the rest, though.
.
In less than two minutes, a green-haired esper flew in from a hallway behind the desk.
"Saitama!" she said, floating down. "What're you doing here?"
"Tats!" he said. "Just visiting."
"Seems like you've been stuck 'just visiting' for a while," Tatsumaki teased. "Ten o'clock, you said? How on earth did it take you four hours to reach me?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Let me guess," she touched her pointer to her chin. "You had no idea how to get to the apartments."
"The maps in this place are ridiculous," Saitama complained. "I've been waiting in these lobbies for hours — nobody answers my questions!"
The receptionist slowly slid down, hiding behind her desk.
"That's the problem with this place," Tatsumaki said, rolling her eyes. "C'mon," she continued, tilting her head towards the hallway. "Let's go."
Saitama got up, smiling.
"Lead the way."
As the two left, the receptionist emerged upwards.
Speechless.
.
"By the way Saitama, call me Tatsumaki here, not 'Tats,'" the esper said, floating beside the bald hero as he walked. "I don't want any weird nicknames to spread around this place."
"Tatsumaki," Saitama said, testing the word. The girl stiffened. "Tatsumaki…? Tat-su-ma-ki. Hmm. I dunno, it's kinda long."
"Y-yeah," she said, a little taken aback. Was that the first time he called her by her actual name? "It sounds a little off, coming from you."
"Yea— hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
She chose to ignore the baldy's question. Him saying that — it made her feel… not normal.
"Nevermind. Just stick with the usual," she said. "But don't say it too loudly, okay?"
"Like, you want me to just whisper it, or something?"
"I guess that's fine…"
Saitama leaned in towards her.
.
"Tats," he said softly. The girl's eyes widened.
.
"Like that?" the baldy asked.
"Uhh, no!" the girl reeled back, red-faced. "Definitely not!"
"Eh? You're kinda sending mixed messages here," Saitama said.
"Whatever," she said breathlessly, covering her face. "Just do whatever you want."
"Tats just feels right to say," Saitama said, nodding.
"Ugh…"
.
.
It wasn't often that the esper was caught in a good mood. But today was one of those days. There had been no urgent matters to attend to, no meetings, and no interviews. Just a day to relax, plan her week ahead, and get ready to be busy — exactly as Saitama said. Of course, feelings of unease still festered in her. Rumors about dark dealings with the Association ran amok, a warrant for a 'Human Monster' being pushed out, and the matter of her stomach churning at the thought of hero work… the feeling of dread hadn't just disappeared.
But there was no way she was going to falter in front of the baldy. Not today. Not when he came to her.
The esper glanced at Saitama, who'd grown silent as they walked.
She frowned.
That look…
"Hey," the esper muttered.
"Mm?" the bald man turned to face her, eyebrows raised. His expression had completely dissipated.
"Oh, uh." The girl paused. As one who never really prided herself in reading people, Tatsumaki decided not to make assumptions out of nowhere. "Nothing."
The baldy shrugged.
The two eventually made their way out of the winding walls and were met with a large, open area that sprawled far to either side. A handful of primly-dressed people walked around busily, as if eager to spend their excess cash. The sight made Saitama turn his nose up.
"Hey, I was here a while ago," the baldy said thoughtfully.
"Yep. It's the sale-less mall area," Tatsumaki said. "We're making a quick stop here. Just follow me."
The esper flew off to the right.
"Coming," he replied.
.
The two quickly arrived at their location. They stood at the entrance to a large store, filled with shelves and posters.
"A video game shop?" Saitama asked.
"I've been thinking…" Tatsumaki began. "I wanna practice that game you showed me."
"Yeah?" the baldy said.
"But I didn't know what console to look for," she continued. "Or what game that was."
The girl walked inside.
"Show me, would you?"
Saitama paused.
"Sure."
.
"So it's this one?" Tatsumaki asked, holding up a box. "And this is the game?" She lifted another, smaller box with her psychic powers.
"Actually that's a newer version of the game. It has a bunch of— hey, why are you returning it?"
"I just want the one we played," she said, beginning to look again.
"But there are more features, and the onlin—"
"The older versions are cheaper though, right?" she continued, shuffling through the plastic cases.
"Ah, wow. You're right," Saitama scratched his head. She might've rubbed off a little too much from him.
Eventually she found it. A box with the same name as the other, just a single version lower. "Ah, here. See? Cheaper."
"Whoa."
"Mhm. Just gimme a sec to buy it," she said.
.
In a few minutes, the two were off again.
"Right," the girl said, floating the boxes up with her powers. "Let's go."
The pair of heroes entered a much less narrow passageway, but one that winded just as much as the other. Occasionally, a hero would pass here and there, all looking questioningly at the odd match walking along. One or two of them looked like they were about to come up and ask about it, but Tatsumaki's glare prevented any interaction completely. Her temper had become well-known at this point, and any curiosity the other heroes might've had were quickly quenched by their fear.
"Ignore them," she said, as another hero turned the corner behind the two.
"Hmm? Ignore what?" Saitama said.
It seemed the baldy's obliviousness already had it handled.
Or maybe it was something else.
The girl stole a glance at the bald hero.
There it was again. That look she couldn't quite place.
Unlike before, the girl kept quiet and simply observed. She noticed his heavy eyelids. The occasional sigh. Heavy steps. It was like Saitama wasn't fully there.
Her eyes widened.
Tatsumaki stopped, floating down in the middle of the hallway.
"You don't really want to play, do you?" she asked. The boxes she carried drifted onto the floor.
"What?" Saitama snapped out of his daze. "No, of course I—"
"Tell it to me straight," she said. "Why'd you come here?"
"I don't know," the man said. "I just… I…"
It was like he was lost. Just as lost as she was before they saw each other again.
.
"Saitama," Tatsumaki said firmly. "What's wrong?"
.
.
Hello again! I hope you enjoyed this relatively short chapter. Alright, that's all; see you nex—
Huh? Why'd it take me so long to update? Uh, well. About that. The last chapter left me with an absolute nightmare of options to go for. Plots, character development, plans — the amount of things I could take the story was a little overwhelming and I crumbled under that weight. I had two previous drafts already written and erased before I decided this was the one I wanted to go for. I'm honestly not the proudest of what I'd come up with, but I think this is a good place to start writing again. Aside from that, well, life happens. I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner or reply to you all. Future updates, while 99% guaranteed, will be scheduled quite awfully.
And that's probably enough from me. If you're worried I won't update and have any questions about anything at all — be it the plot going forward, my thoughts on the manga so far, or absolutely anything else, I'll happily answer them (preferably within a month of this chapter getting posted)!
Happy new year, happy birthday, happy anniversary, happy Christmas, and uh, happy anything else I missed these past several months!
-bb
p.s. I'm extremely excited about the next manga chapter. If you know, you know.