The feathery remains of a demon-level monster fluttered slowly onto the ground, twenty-two floors below.
The wind howled outside — hollow. Empty.
"Is it true… that your strength and battle history are false?" asked the bald man, staring into the sprawling city below. He hoped to hear some sort of denial. Maybe… maybe it was a joke! Maybe—
One glance at the imposing, scar-faced man in front of him, and it was plain to see — there was no denying he wasn't the real deal. He could see it in the man's eyes.
A second glance didn't help in the matter either.
"Did you pee your pants?" the bald man asked.
The hero facing him, the man people called 'King, the Strongest Hero,' just stood there, bewildered. His jeans were stained from the waist-down. Wet with fear.
If everything he said was true, then…
Saitama sighed.
Then King was just a regular civilian. Not someone to look up to, nor someone to look down on. A bystander. As a hero, proper etiquette for civilians was…
"Are you okay?" the bald man asked, sighing.
Was to see if they were safe.
Upon hearing those words from Saitama, King's eyes widened in recognition.
And he began to cry.
"What's the matter?" Saitama asked, gawking at the sight in front of him. He didn't know how to feel.
"I…" the scar-faced man sniffled. "I'm sorry…"
.
As King told his story, Saitama sat down, listening with disheartened intent. The wind had begun to pick up, and now a whistle could be heard circling the apartment. The breeze brought dirt and dust swirling into the air.
"Is it fun being a hero who lies and cringes in fear?" Saitama asked, his voice echoing in the room.
Silence from the scar-faced man. He pulled on his collar, and a spray of debris rose into the wind.
"No…" King said finally, head down.
"Well, it's none of my business," the baldy said, shrugging. "So I don't wanna lecture you."
Lies.
"But I benefited from your deeds!"
"This isn't about that."
Lies.
"Listen," Saitama said, pushing away whatever emotion was rising up within him. Shoving away anger. Jealousy. "You're everyone's hero!"
"No," the man began. "I—"
Saitama couldn't bear to hear it.
"People believe you're the strongest," the baldy interrupted. At that statement, King hung his head even lower.
"So," Saitama said, emotions threatening to burst. "Will you keep lying? Or quit being a hero?"
"I… don't know…"
The bald man clenched his fist. So tightly it could shatter mountains.
"In that case," he began, keeping his voice steady. "Why don't you become strong?"
"… Huh?"
Saitama turned away. "I'm going. Bye."
"W-wait!" King called out. "Aren't you angry?!"
The bald hero paused, standing at the ledge of the building.
.
Of course he was angry. Angry at the time he wasted not becoming a professional hero. Angry at the fact that nobody knew who he was. Angry at the fact that an absolute nobody could show up and take all his credit. Angry that the world never thought twice about it. Angry that he was alone. The strongest, with no one to talk to.
But more than that, Saitama was angry at himself.
Despite all of his flaws and regrets, he was a hero. Not some paid, costumed freak with a gimmick who ran around and beat monsters for points. Not a desperate attention-seeker who would be willing to put others down to look good. He was a hero.
The fact that he felt turmoil when someone needed his help… the fact that he regretted saving them at all, even for a moment…
What was wrong with him?
.
"I'll come again sometime…" he said softly to the man who stole his name. "To play video games."
And he was off.
The wind settled minutes after.
.
.
Ever since then, Saitama had stuck around the scar-faced hero. Not really close, but not really strangers either. He was a perfectly fine companion. A little stuck-up, but more than patient enough to compensate. A little uncompromising, but respectful enough to consider others' feelings.
Being introduced to new video games was fun. Talking about stories and shows was fun.
At the end of the day, however, when the two said their goodbyes… it didn't feel right.
.
Then Tatsumaki showed up at his doorstep. And he genuinely lost track of time, felt excitement in the games they played — and wished she stayed longer than she did.
That was when he realized. His relationship with King? It was shallow. Try as he might to believe in his own words — that he simply wanted King to fill the shoes his status had given him — it rang hollow in the Saitama's own ears.
The very advice he'd given Tatsumaki: to put importance in being an example as an S-Class hero; it was a half-truth.
He thought that by voicing out what he wanted to believe, he would actually believe it. Quite the contrary, it ended up leaving him even more frustrated than anything. Who was he to give advice when he didn't even believe it himself?
Not a moment passed that he didn't think about his mistake.
And now there he was. Drowning in doubt.
.
"Saitama. What's wrong?"
.
The baldy went silent at those words.
His eyes glanced over at the boxes the esper bought, drifting slowly onto the floor. Once they landed with a soft 'thud,' the air grew quiet. He awkwardly shifted his view towards the empty hallway behind Tatsumaki, hoping for someone to pass. It seemed like minutes — but still no one had arrived. The handful of heroes living in the apartments had already filtered out, it seemed. Not even distant footsteps could be heard.
He tried to look towards the ceiling, attempting — and failing — to busy his mind with the smooth, patternless nothing above.
Try as he might, it was only a matter of time before he finally looked the girl in the eyes.
"Saitama," she said again, softer. "Are you okay?"
"I'm… fine," he managed to breathe. "I'm fine. Let's go."
The girl frowned. Her eyes remained steadily on his.
Saitama's confidence weathered as she stared him down. Those eyes bore into him. Her expression was as if she was insulted that he'd even try to lie to her.
Not a single bit of her powers were needed to set the bald hero on edge. He opened his mouth, but shut it again.
Tatsumaki turned around and began to walk. The games she set onto the floor floated up and gently followed after her.
The esper's footsteps echoed in the halls.
Saitama could do nothing but walk after her.
.
Tatsumaki was brisk, stepping ahead of the baldy by quite a margin. Saitama, thankfully, had the right mind to keep his distance.
She didn't want him to see her expression at the moment.
The girl was biting her lip, frustrated. Concerned. A little hurt.
Was she not someone he could confide in? After all this time? After the hours they spent…
Steeling herself, she took a glance behind her.
The baldy was looking at the floor, his expression dour. She felt a twinge of pain.
After the hours they spent in that cramped apartment… had she ever asked the baldy how he was?
That look… it wasn't just an expression that they had come to share as recent problems came to light. She'd seen it from him before — much earlier on than she realized.
Some afternoons when Genos was away. A few moments after he woke up from a particularly long, midday nap. Oftentimes when coming back from beating a monster.
Maybe she wasn't in the right state of mind to consider it then. Maybe she didn't expect him — the unfazed, emotionless baldy — to feel that way. Maybe she had yet to notice that it was how he looked when he was sad. Or maybe she just didn't care enough to say anything before. They were there, but she hadn't yet had the time to understand.
But she had time to notice. And that look — the very first time she saw it… well, it was unforgettable.
Right as he swept her off her feet — after an unheard conversation with a dead alien that haunted her dreams. On the ship that started it all.
That distant look she once thought was unreadable.
Had he been going through something that whole time? Helping her while keeping his own problems buried?
The esper shook her head fiercely.
Feeling like Saitama didn't trust her, that she wasn't someone to confide in… that wasn't the point. Whether or not the baldy knew why — and knowing him, he probably didn't — he came to her. Without Genos or King or anyone else.
And if he didn't come here for her to notice his dour mood, then she'd pretend not to. They'd have fun, whether the baldy liked it or not. And if he just so happened to be coaxed into talking about his problems, well, it wouldn't hurt too.
Tatsumaki nodded inwardly.
Sneaking a glance at the baldy, it was clear something was up. He didn't quite look comfortable as he walked behind her. No doubt he was worried that he'd soured the whole visit. Which he had, but the esper considered it wasn't the best time to tell him that.
Instead, Tatsumaki slowed her pace to match his. At her command, one of the two boxes that followed behind her bumped the baldy in the forehead.
"Ow," he said.
"That's for not paying attention," she said haughtily. The second box conked him in the chest. "And that's for worrying me back there; I thought maybe Genos got wrecked again, or something."
"Oh?" Saitama's eyes widened. "Oh! No, no. Was that what you thought…? It's nothing li—"
"Heh." Tatsumaki smirked, thankful the baldy was so obtuse. If something had happened, she'd be the first to know about it. "Well, it's all good now, right? Who knew you could be so nervous visiting a girl's place?"
The girl had given the baldy an out, and he graciously took it.
"Yeah… my bad," Saitama said. "I just can't get over the fact that you found something cheaper than what I suggested. I thought you'd gotten all fancy and stuff, but you didn't. You're a certified cheapskate!"
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, rolling her eyes.
Maybe he was laying it a little thick, but it was fine.
The esper flicked her finger, and the boxes that had been flung behind the two promptly hit the baldy in the back of the head.
"That's for losing your touch, Mr. 'A Discount's a Discount.'" she said.
"Well, technically that wasn't a 'discou—"
She lifted a finger and the boxes smacked his face from the front this time.
"Maybe I should call you Mr. Nitpicky instead," she said.
The baldy rubbed his head.
"I'm beginning to think you're doing this just for the sake of it," Saitama muttered.
"Oh, I definitely am," she said smugly, stepping in front of him and matching his pace. She held up a finger as she walked backwards, and the boxes began to float once more. "But…"
Tatsumaki slowly placed the finger on his chest, stopping the two in the middle of the hallway.
"Thanks for coming," she said softly.
The boxes floated down for Saitama to catch, obscuring her from view.
The baldy smiled behind the packages.
"You did tell me to come visit," he said.
The esper began to walk once more.
There was a spring in her step — but of course the baldy couldn't see it.
.
.
"We're here," Tatsumaki announced as they made their way to the end of a hall of clean, white doors. '001,' the golden plaque announced not-so-subtly.
Saitama raised an eyebrow. Aside from the fancy door number, well…
"It looks so normal," the baldy blurted.
"What'd you expect?"
"I dunno… something bigger," Saitama shrugged, shaking the boxes he was carrying.
"Says the guy with barely four meters of space," she said. "My house is plenty big for you."
"Mrgh," Saitama muttered.
The esper opened the door and tilted her head for him to step forward.
"Just leave the games down here," she said, pointing to the doormat.
"Tats," he began. "If you still wanna play, I'm all for—"
"No," she said simply. "Down. By the entrance."
The baldy obliged.
"Now," she said, gesturing for him to go outside. "Wait there for a sec."
"Huh—"
The white door shut without him.
"Hmm," Saitama shrugged and sat down against the entrance to the esper's home. He heard the shuffling of boxes from within, then the retreating of footsteps, then nothing.
The bald man pouted.
Having to wait was beginning to feel like a punchline. One that was getting really old.
A stiff breeze began blowing through the hallway. Nothing moved in the line of white doors. Save from the baldy himself, there the corridor was empty. Spotless. Too different from the paths around his own home, and it somehow made the wind feel even stiffer.
The baldy hoped his thoughts wouldn't stray too far.
.
Tatsumaki slowly inhaled the cold air of her apartment. Taking her shoes off by the entrance, she began pacing aimlessly.
"What to do…" she muttered.
They could eat. Shop around again. Maybe just walk? Anything other than discuss what she'd noticed earlier.
She really just wanted to leave things be. The baldy's problems were none of her business. Or at the very least, it seemed like he didn't want it to be her business. What did she know about helping others with their feelings, anyway? The last time she did that, well, Fubuki would probably have more to say about it than her. It wasn't her strong suit, to say the least.
It would be the easiest thing in the world to act like nothing was wrong.
But still…
The girl glanced at the boxes placed haphazardly near the entrance.
"Haah…"
She just couldn't forget that look on his face.
"Ugh!"
Why'd he have to come on her day off? Why'd he have to act all weird in front of her?
Why'd he have to clam up when she was just trying to help?!
The girl clicked her tongue.
To be fair to the baldy, had she ever given him reason to believe she'd take well to emotional vulnerability? Or any kind of vulnerability, for that matter?
"Mmrgh." Tatsumaki grumbled. She still didn't care for others' little hangups. There really was just the one exception.
And what an exception that turned out to be; all that she could think of was why he didn't want to speak up.
After mulling over the options — and a great many options there were — the esper reached a conclusion: it was probably because of their little chat in the hot spring. Saying sorry, losing battles making someone weak — even though Saitama showed her otherwise, she had shown him her beliefs on how the strong should act. Beliefs that she still hadn't quite fully gotten over, if she had to be honest with herself. The way she talked to him before — it definitely left an impact on how Saitama saw her.
For him to open up to her after that… well, she probably needed to open up to him first. To show him she'd changed — and was someone who was okay with showing emotional vulnerability. No more sister's coats to change the subject. No more drunken nights and crashing into the baldy's room. No more denial and bridal carries on a hopelessly careening alien ship.
Just him. And her. Talking.
.
'Saitama,' she mouthed, practicing their conversation in earnest. 'I've been wanting to tell you something.'
'Hm?' she could practically hear him say. 'What is it?'
'Ever since I left your place, I've been having nightmares.'
'About what? Like, missing out on a sale day, or something?' she knew he'd try to make it lighthearted.
'The alien — Boros…' The name made her want to retch. 'He was strangling me. I couldn't move. I was scared.'
Saitama would frown at that. And then state the obvious. 'Tats, I was there. There was no way he could've—'
'But what if you weren't?' she would interrupt him. 'I would've lost. I would've died!'
The girl felt breathless just thinking about it.
'It's become like a curse,' she would say, barely a whisper. 'Everytime I fight, I see him. Even small fry are starting to scare me. What you told me — to keep busy. It's worked, but only because I've been avoiding trying to fight again. I don't know what to do.'
Maybe it was then that the baldy would go quiet. Or say something only he could say.
Either way, she knew she had to tell him.
'After giving me a place to stay, hearing me out even if I wasn't in the mood — you were always too nice to me. Too patient.'
Completely alone in the dark room, thoughts she never bothered to voice began to spill uncontrollably out.
'You always give without asking for anything in return. And even now, you're trying to help me out again.'
The esper clutched her chest.
'But I know you're dealing with your own things. My problems, well, seeing you lost… it made me forget about them. Right now, all I want to do is to help you.'
Saitama would go wide-eyed, realizing that the esper really had noticed.
'So please,' she said, mustering the will to meet his gaze. 'Let's figure it out together.'
'Tats, I…' the baldy would lean closer.
And closer.
.
Tatsumaki banged her head against the wall, ears practically steaming red.
The esper fell down, face in her hands.
"Nnnhh…"
In no way was that how she'd get him to talk. It was too unsubtle — far, far too unrealistic — and in no way 'pretending not to notice,' like she'd resolved to do.
Screw emotional vulnerability. There was absolutely no way she could talk to him like that.
.
.
It was around fifteen minutes before Tatsumaki opened the door again.
"Ah."
Saitama fell backwards, the doorway that was supposed to be holding him up suddenly gone. It seemed gravity sought the esper to be the new target for his backrest.
Fortunately, the girl was able to stop his fall. Lifting a finger, Saitama was cloaked in green energy.
"Ngh!" she exclaimed.
He was heavy!
A little more than just shocked, it was all the esper could do to maintain the bald hero's awkward, half-fallen position.
"Abababababa—" Saitama said, twitching in her psychic grip.
What was he made of?!
Visions of the alien flitted in her mind, horrifyingly unwelcome. A single, ruthless eye stared at her. A searing hot hand snatched her throat. Wind howling.
The girl gasped, and the green glow surrounding Saitama flickered and disappeared.
The baldy, snapped out of his daze and the esper's grasp, caught himself easily.
"My bad," he said, turning to Tatsumaki. "I— Tats!"
The girl had fallen down herself, looking at him in shock.
"You…" she muttered, trying to regain her composure. "I…"
'Say it! Now's your chance.'
"Shut up," the girl snapped softly at herself.
"You okay?" Saitama held out his hand.
"…"
Tatsumaki took it quietly.
All those weeks ago… she still saw it clear as day. The baldy's cape, fluttering in the wind. His red-gloved fist smoking. The alien, dead at his feet.
The girl stood back up.
She really couldn't do this.
Tatsumaki wracked her brain, thinking of something — anything they could do that would get him to open his damn mouth up.
"C'mere," she said finally, pulling his hand. "We're going."
"Um, where to?" the baldy asked, tilting his head and following along.
"Z-City," she said. "There were reports of monsters around there. It's supposed to be handled by other heroes."
"Oh, ok," Saitama said. Then frowned. "Wait, what?"
"We're gonna relieve them of their duties," Tatsumaki said. "Catch my drift?"
"Huh? Why would we do that?"
"To show them that they need to be quicker to the punch to get higher in the Association." she said, trying not to sound like she'd practiced this. "And besides, you've been waiting all day. You're bored, right?"
"Uh, sure. I guess so."
"There really isn't much to do in my house yet," she explained. "Staying there would get us nowhere. So I thought maybe we could just do something productive."
She paused.
"And then maybe we could have dinner somewhere."
"Will it be your treat?" Saitama asked immediately. His grip on her hand tightened.
"If you beat more monsters than me," she answered. "Otherwise, well, I get to ask you a question."
The man's features turned sharp. "And you're sure it's fine if we take care of the monsters instead of other heroes?"
"Yep."
"Then it's steak night, baby. Gold-leaf."
The man sped away, blasting wind straight across the hallway.
Tatsumaki glanced down at her hand, not knowing how to feel.
That is, until she processed what Saitama had just said.
"Baldy!" the girl spat, flying after him. "I don't have that much money!"
Many in the Hero Association's HQ received reports of tremors around the apartment area that day.
.
.
The wind grew considerably stronger the higher the esper went. It was something she noticed when she was young, and had grown to become a comfort. Finding the right spot put her in a state of ease, and today was no exception. Tatsumaki drank in the pure wind all around her.
She was relaxed, but only for a moment.
However much the soaring heights calmed her down, her current destination still managed to snag her mood back to earth.
To do hero work, hunting as many monsters as she could with Saitama… her Plan B.
It was something she'd been considering for a while.
.
The esper was splattered in monster blood and guts.
She didn't speak a word.
.
Tatsumaki remembered it all too well. The shame as she stood in the steaming green gunk surrounding her. The frustration as blood dripped down her face.
.
"I want to quit," she mumbled.
With a contemptuous wave of her hand, the blood shot off of her, glowing green with psychic energy.
She trudged through the remains, back towards the HQ. Quietly, she settled into her thoughts.
All that talk about doing things alone, about not depending on anyone to solve her own problems — look how that turned out.
There she was. Drowning in doubt.
.
"Go be busy all you like."
.
And then she just had to visit the damned baldy's house. He just had to figure things out for her. Dealing with both her worries about Fubuki and leaving her advice to manage her anxieties about hero work. Solving her own problems as she had previously decided? Nope. That idea went down the drain real quick.
Frankly, it bothered her.
How aware the baldy was, despite all the evidence pointing to the opposite.
.
It was then that she thought about doing hero work with Saitama. To get him to notice what was happening with her. Then she'd talk — much less… openly than the scenario she fabricated in her head. And get him to spill the beans. Maybe it wasn't the epitome of 'fun,' but it was something. Hell, if he won, he'd have free dinner! And she'd get to eat overpriced, disgustingly large steaks!
See? Fun. Plan B was fun. She wasn't taking advantage of him to solve her own problems — well, not anymore, at least. It wasn't a one-sided therapy session. He'd talk, too.
If he didn't, she'd make him. It wouldn't be too difficult, however embarrassing it may be.
It didn't slip the esper's mind that Saitama was visibly worried when she had that little flashback by the door earlier. Nor did she miss that he'd considered talking to her when she asked what was wrong. If they stuck together, she was sure her plan would work.
Speaking of sticking together, the esper glanced down, scanning the area for the trademark shine of the baldy's head in the sea of craters below.
It took mere moments to find him — he'd left a trail, it seemed. Saitama was just a little speck on the horizon, sending smoke flying into the air all the way from HQ.
Wait.
He was quite far. And only seemed to be getting farther by the moment. Weren't things supposed to look slower as they reached the horizon?
Tatsumaki's eyes widened in realization.
Her plan. He needed to notice her for her plan to work at all. And with the baldy's mind only occupied by food, well… he was dead-set on winning. Meaning she'd have to find a way to keep up with the baldy. A serious baldy.
Maybe talking to him was the better option. It wasn't too late to try.
The image of the baldy flashed in her head.
'Tats—'
"NO WAY!" Tatsumaki spat, not allowing the thoughts to consume her again.
It was Plan B or never. No talking, no shifting of feet nor twiddling of fingers — none of that mushy crap. She prodded the beast, and now she'd have to meet it head-on.
The air surrounding Tatsumaki buzzed with energy and heat, then violently exploded in her wake. A sonic boom graced the air as the shot through the sky, faster than a jet. A trail of vapor parallel to the dust cloud left by the baldy below was a sight to behold.
The sky thrummed vibrantly as she flew, full-throttle, towards the horizon.
'Maybe I overdid it a little,' the baldy thought. 'I should probably slo—'
Saitama felt a wave of energy crash onto him. Looking behind him to see what he'd felt, he found nothing but the trail of dust left in his wake. Glancing to his sides, he was met with the empty ruins of A-City.
Looking below is when he saw it. His shadow. Surrounded by emerald green light.
Tatsumaki flew past him right as he turned his head upwards.
Their eyes met for just a second — the esper glanced below, completely in the zone — before another ring of vapor propelled the esper forward and ahead of him.
The baldy smiled.
After weeks of injuries. Of floating eggs and worried outbursts. Of lifting hot spring owners and Association executives. Of catching blankets and slicing bread.
This was the esper's full power.
"She's amazing…" the bald man muttered, wide-eyed.
.
But being amazing wasn't going to stop Tatsumaki from paying for his gold-leaf steak.
.
The baldy took a deep breath and increased his pace.
In stark contrast to the esper's elegant rings of vapor, the baldy's speed brought with it rings of decimated ground underneath, sending the earth into tremors with every step.
The two heroes racing faster than sound, for just a few moments, needed no words to understand one another.
Painful memories, red-faced fancies, the doubts that drowned them — all were quietly washed away.
Some things really were just…
.
.
I hope that wasn't too vague.
.
Hopefully you understood what to do with the last line of this chapter. I found it too poetic to let pass, hehe.
.
Okay, time for the end-of-chapter-notes! You know what I said about the scheduling of these updates to be awful? Yeah, wow. I guess this is awful in a good way. At least I hope. I dunno how this chapter'll be received, after all. Either way, I wanted to finish a chapter before life has its way with me once again. My mental state isn't the best at the moment, but I muddled through somehow.
What else to say… oh! I'm glad there's more traffic on the site because of the direction the manga's going! Also, something I didn't get to say last time but all of your reviews, y'all taking the time to chat — thank you. I can't understate how much they keep me from going insane. Like I'm not writing into the void, if that makes sense.
Stay warm as always.
-bb
P.S. no P.S. this time— wait, damn.