The Association H.Q. was an imposing view, especially under the cover of night. More like a fortress than a home, it stood as a reminder of the heroes' failure in defending A-City. And also as a pillar of renewed vigor. A promise that the heroes would defend future threats without fail.
The H.Q. had become synonymous with the elite. A safe haven and a warning to all monsters who dared to wreak havoc.
Viewing such an awe-inspiring sight, Saitama picked his nose.
All that running had definitely gotten some dirt stuck up there somewhere.
"Hey," Tatsumaki said, landing beside him. They stood in front of one of the Association's gates. "Do you know the way to my apartment?"
"Yah," the man said, still picking. "Probably."
"It's straight ahead," the esper said, not believing him. "Go ahead of me."
"Sure," he said. "But isn't your door gonna be locked?"
The girl waved her hand. It flashed green for just a moment.
"Not anymore," she said. "Be quick."
"Um, okay."
He switched nostrils and was off.
Ignoring the baldy's disgusting display, Tatsumaki quickly flew to another entrance. Lobby G — there was something she wanted to do there. She walked in and saw a different attendant from the one that afternoon.
The girl clicked her tongue.
She and Saitama… needed to seem like strangers. It was difficult enough that the two had already been seen by a few people in the sprawling buildings — was she really about to add one more?
The girl paused. She had to think things through.
.
.
'I want a drink.'
A pale-skinned hero pulled a cigarette pack from his coat pocket, lighting it as he walked through the halls.
Placing it to his mouth, the hero took a breath and exhaled, watching as the white smoke drifted idly behind him. It helped him ignore the dryness of his throat. And the annoyance he felt towards his latest operation.
Zombieman's search was going nowhere.
Dr. Genus, the beast who turned him into something inhuman, the one that the hero vowed to kill in cold blood — seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Another trail of smoke drifted through the hall.
A rival genetics organization was the first lead he had in weeks. Zombieman reasoned that Genus would run and hide himself amongst like-minded scientists, hoping to create a being that could take revenge on Genos. While he planned to take them down eventually, he had decided to collect info on them first, hoping to find Dr. Genus among their ranks.
To no avail.
The man rolled his shoulders tiredly. He knew it was useless to feel down, but it was hard not to be. After all the monsters he had to fight to get that information, he felt considerably worn. And so was his gear. His weapons, which had been specially chosen for the operation, were dull. Out of ammo or had been lost during the chaos, he was left with more junk on him than he could stand. And it wasn't just his gear. His favorite coat was damaged as well. Bullet holes dotted the fabric from head to toe, and he could feel the breeze as he walked.
If he could be thankful for one thing, it was that his precious cigarette pack was unharmed.
He took another deep breath, finding a quiet calm through the smoke.
After all that effort, all that bloodshed… there was no trace of the madman in their database. Not even so much as a whisper of his name.
There were some unsettling rumors about a horde of intelligent monsters meeting up, plotting an upturning of the world order, but… rumors were just rumors. It didn't help his mood at all.
Frustrating as everything was, at the very least he had been able to report the data to higher-ups. They said they would ask around to gather more info, but Zombieman knew better than to get his hopes up. He took their assurances with a grain of salt.
The pale hero continued walking. His muffled footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Once in a while, a few workers popped in and out of smaller paths. All of them looked perturbed by his gaunt appearance.
He was heading over to get points off of the monsters he killed. Best to look the part, he figured.
He was thankful that the Association had decided to improve their reporting system.
Before the new H.Q. had been formed, reporting kills was a tedious process. Papers to fill out, signatures to acquire, proof to show — but now it was easy. All one needed was to be certified to report their achievements — which all S-Class heroes are — and state them to the nearest worker that handled that business.
Zombieman eventually reached the end of the hallway. He paused as he saw a familiar hero standing quietly by the entrance.
"Little miss sunshi— er, Tornado," the hero held up a hand in greeting. The girl looked up at him. "Hi."
"Zombieman," she said, raising an eyebrow. "What're you doing here?"
"Making reports," he said, walking over to a vending machine. "Lobby G's got everything now, doesn't it?"
He clicked a few buttons, and a can of beer dropped down. He took his cigarette out and drank from it slowly.
As he put his drink down, he was met with the esper's emerald eyes. They were intense as always.
"I have a favor to ask you," she said quietly.
"Shoot," the man said, putting his cigarette back in his mouth.
.
The receptionist watched, curiosity slightly piqued, as Tatsumaki walked out of the lobby. Zombieman, who was finishing his drink, had a small smile plastered on his face.
He walked over to the man behind the desk.
"I'd like to report a few kills," Zombieman said.
"Alright sir." The worker had already brought up a report.
"Four Demon-level monsters for me," he said. "And seventy-nine Tiger-level monsters for a hero named Saitama."
"Sev—" the man gulped. "Seventy-nine, sir?"
"You got that right," Zombieman said, taking a swig from his can.
"Mister Saitama… er, Caped Baldy," the receptionist typed. "He's a B-Class."
"Don't doubt it," the pale hero responded cooly. "But facts are facts. So just file it, will ya?"
Zombieman was certified to report monster kills. And for some reason, it seemed the information came from Tatsumaki — who was also very much certified. Even still, it seemed odd. The worker furrowed his brow.
Zombieman placed his bloody axe on the desk. It clattered loud and heavy, nearly cracking the hard surface. The sound echoed around the room.
"Unrelated," the hero said. "But where can I have this sharpened?"
The man at the desk tried not to whimper.
Zombieman, on the other hand, was doing his best not to burst out laughing.
.
.
Tatsumaki flew through the halls back to her apartment, a pit in her stomach.
Asking Zombieman to report Saitama's kills didn't sit right with her.
The esper shook her head fiercely, trying to reason with herself. If people found out that Saitama was associated with her, people would trace it back to the A-City disaster. Cover-ups would be revealed, trust in the Association would wane, and she was sure that somehow, Saitama would be shamed more than respected.
It was what she did to him when they first met, after all.
'Hey, who brought a B-Class nobody along?' she pointed rudely at the bald man. 'Don't you think it's beneath us?'
Loathe as she was to admit, if she had been told that she'd grow attached to the bald man, she would never have believed it.
Giving her points to him was a weak attempt at trying to make amends. And she hadn't even done it herself.
Tatsumaki sighed.
.
She slowly opened the door to her apartment.
"Sai— hya!"
The bald man was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless.
His torn top hung by his shoulder, revealing a body covered in dirt and monster blood.
"Hey," he said, oblivious. "Mind if I shower?"
"A–ah," she said, trying — and failing — to look away. "Yeah. Bath… Bathroom's to the right."
"Thanks." He walked into a short hall and into the restroom.
Hearing the door click shut, Tatsumaki let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
The lights turned on, illuminating the house in bright white. The esper nodded. Everything was as it should be; no need for a hasty clean-up.
Absent-mindedly, the esper wondered what Saitama thought of the place.
.
Tatsumaki's apartment was decently sized. A wide swathe of space lay directly in front of the entrance, splitting the rooms from left and right. Nearest to her was the white table of the kitchen, where her empty glass and pitcher lay quietly. Behind that was a small, circular dining table — a little redundant, but it was there to take up space. At the far end of the apartment was a sparsely decorated living room.
Along the left wall were two doors: one leading to her bedroom and another to a small balcony. To the right were three doors: a laundry room, bathroom, and guest bedroom.
All in all, it was quite cozy. Tatsumaki was used to spending her day lounging about here and there. Alone in peace and quiet.
Unfortunately, the usual silence was broken by the sound of a shower turning on. The muffled hiss of running water brought Tatsumaki back to the present. And the situation at hand.
Saitama was in her shower.
It was a strange feeling sharing her apartment with someone, the girl noted. It felt like a step forward with… whatever their relationship was.
Now that Tatsumaki thought about it, the whole day felt like that — a change. Saitama had come to her in a mood she'd never had the time to consider and she, well, considered it. Their interactions were a little stinted, thanks to the baldy's mood, but somehow they persisted. Soon enough she and Saitama both found something to do that felt worthwhile.
She would have considered it fruitful right then and there.
But he just had to say those words.
.
'You really know how to get my heart racing.'
.
The baldy's careless line played in her head — not for the first time that night.
No matter how many times she repeated it, it sounded surreal.
A crack in the man's relaxed shell. A side to him she'd never seen.
Saitama didn't know it but throughout the day Tatsumaki had been stealing glances at him here and there. His pained expression made her stomach churn, and she hoped not to see it again.
At the end of the day, Tatsumaki was grateful to find that it hadn't resurfaced. The baldy seemed to have found a sort of resolution within himself.
Tatsumaki felt warmth spread across her body.
Saitama didn't hide anything, either. He spoke his feelings out in the open night air. Whether the baldy meant to or not, it was cathartic for the esper to hear.
She made his heart race. She made him smile.
Remembering his words, the esper was helpless to stop herself from absolutely beaming.
The girl held her face in surprise.
It wasn't as if she'd never seen him happy before, so what was happening? She forced her lips into a pout, trying to stave away the unexpected expression.
But the feeling persisted. Her smile fought its way through her efforts.
Something about this one felt different.
Maybe it was because her plan was a success. Maybe it was because he finally talked. Or maybe she was just tired.
Whatever the reason, Tatsumaki was giddy.
'You really know how to get my heart racing.'
Ehehe.
.
"Tats?" The esper jumped as Saitama's voice echoed in the bathroom. "I, uhh, don't have a change of clothes."
The girl tilted her head. She tried to register what he said. Something about no clothes…?
"What am I supposed to do about that?" she asked quickly.
"Well," he said. "Could you do what you did in my place? Whenever you had to wash your outfit."
"I waited for it to dry."
"But you could dry my stuff with your powers, right?"
"Mmm… probably," Tatsumaki said, putting her hands on her hips. "But don't blame me if they end up getting torn into shreds."
The esper made her way to the bathroom door.
"Alright," she said, knocking. "Give them to m— ahh?!"
The man opened the door, barely wrapped in a towel.
"They're right there," he said, pointing to the sink. "Soaped and washed."
"You u-used hand soap?" Tatsumaki walked inside, careful not to glance the baldy's way. The wide bathroom mirror made it quite the task.
"Oh. Well, yeah. It worked. Kinda."
Out of the corner of her eye, Tatsumaki saw the baldy shift around to make way for her. A few drops of water splashed onto the mat below. His upper body was still a little damp, it seemed — er, not that she cared.
"If you say so," the girl said, deciding to look at the floor.
She held out a hand and the clothes floated up, dripping water onto the sink.
Clenching her fist, the clothes were twisted and squeezed violently. The excess water cascaded down and out of the fabric.
She folded the clothes and placed them to the side.
"I can't get them to fully dry 'cuz they'll rip," Tatsumaki said. "But that should be fine."
"Thanks, Tats," Saitama said, leaning over to grab the garments.
"N-No prob," Tatsumaki said, turning away as he came into view. She hurried outside, shutting the door behind her.
The girl leaned against it, covering her face.
Inviting Saitama to her place felt like some sort of torture.
This tenseness, her breaths hitching — the infuriating warmth she felt when he thanked her — it was unbearable!
She'd fought hundreds of monsters, talked smack to dozens of higher-ups, survived a week in the baldy's apartment without losing her sanity — amidst all those experiences, she had never felt so unsure of herself. Never had she stuttered so much. Never had butterflies swarmed so frantically in her stomach.
The girl took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
It was an odd feeling, sharing her space with a visitor. Her apartment, which was her safe space, had suddenly been invaded by Saitama. Who acted like it was his hundredth time visiting. Of course she'd feel uncomfortable. Of course she'd be caught off guard!
And about those butterflies in her stomach… Maybe she was just hungry.
No. She was definitely hungry.
Tatsumaki felt the door open behind her and she fell backwards, wide-eyed.
Saitama caught her effortlessly. That is, he didn't move an inch. The esper felt herself thump against the baldy's chest.
"Yo," he said. "You okay?"
"I— yeah!" She stood up quickly. "L-Let's eat!"
She held her chest as she walked away.
Hungry. That's what this was. Her heart skipping a beat — reflux.
.
"So," the baldy began, sitting across the esper at the dining table. "What's for dinner?"
"We agreed on caviar," Tatsumaki smirked. "Right?"
"Nope. No. That's not what happened at all," Saitama blabbered. "I'm okay with leftovers. You suggested that, didn't you? Let's go with that."
The esper chuckled as the bald hero panicked.
"Let me check if I have any." Tatsumaki rolled her eyes.
Walking to her fridge, the esper heard him let out a deep breath.
'From gold-leaf steak,' she thought, looking inside. 'To instant noodles and boiled eggs.'
"You okay with this?" the girl asked, raising a plastic container.
The man narrowed his eyes, trying to see what she held up.
"Noodles and eggs?" he squinted. "As long as it's free."
"I thought as much," Tatsumaki said. The esper floated two bowls down from the cupboards and split the food into them. She set them into the microwave and pressed a few buttons.
A deep thrum echoed around the apartment.
.
"This is a pretty nice place," Saitama said. "How much did you say rent was?"
"It's negligible, even by your standards," Tatsumaki said. "But that only applies for A-Class heroes and above."
"Oh. What class was I again?"
"B. For bald."
"Right, right," Saitama scratched his head. "Damn."
"You're almost there," Tatsumaki said, tilting her head inquisitively. "Why, are you thinking of moving here?"
"I dunno," Saitama said. "What exactly is the difference between living here and in Z-City?"
"Everything's five minutes away," Tatsumaki said, tilting her head the other way.
"But things are expensive," Saitama said.
"A-Class heroes get discounts," the girl replied. "Sometimes."
"Mm," the bald man didn't look convinced. "What else is here?"
"Gyms. Pools. An observatory," she listed.
"Gym weights are really light," the bald man said. "And I'm not into swimming. Or space. That's cool, though." Saitama tilted his head. "Is there something here that's worth the stay?"
"There's me," Tatsumaki said.
A long pause.
"I mean…!" she backpedaled. "There's meeting new heroes! Lots of highly-ranked people pass by here, maybe you can get acquainted?"
The esper wanted to punch herself.
"That's cool and all," Saitama replied, remembering the trouble he went through just to get to Tatsumaki. "But maybe I shouldn't move just yet. Coming over for you is more than enough."
Tatsumaki stared at him, heat creeping up her face.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The esper quickly turned around to get their food. Saitama raised an eyebrow as she smacked the microwave.
.
The mood settled as Tatsumaki put their food on the table. She lifted a finger, and two pairs of chopsticks flew towards them. Saitama caught his mid-air. Tatsumaki let hers drift into her noodles.
"Thanks for the food," Saitama said.
"Mhm," she replied.
The two ate in silence, slowly realizing how hungry they were.
The strains of the day had worn the two heroes down. The tide of mental and physical wear had washed over them as they ran, fought, and ran once more, for hours on end. Only now, sitting and eating, did the two heroes have the time to let their fatigue sink in.
The baldy, thoughts finally unoccupied with steak or showers, was unable to stop a thought from trickling into his head.
'Saitama, what's wrong?'
The question that he narrowly avoided earlier in the day. The look in Tatsumaki's eyes as she asked him wasn't something he could easily forget. A glare that knew far too much. But one of empathy, too. It was a gaze he could never meet head on.
The thought of facing that question… dark feelings churned inside his stomach — much deeper than noodles or eggs ever could.
Tatsumaki's thoughts drifted as well.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions the esper was feeling, she had not forgotten. The reason her wallet wasn't empty. The reason that she wanted to compete with Saitama in the first place.
A question was her earned right as a victor.
The nighttime air brought about reflection in the two. A quiet air that made them look back at the rest of the day, as well as to think about what was to come. The two, who had shared the day together, who were present in each other's conversations — at the end of the day, the conclusion they reached was the same.
What was the esper going to ask?
Finishing her food, Tatsumaki glanced at Saitama. She saw the heartbreaking look back on his face. She realized why it was back.
And reached a conclusion.
.
Their little excursion that day, while it had provided a distraction to the baldy, Tatsumaki realized that it wouldn't be enough. Not for a problem that she suspected Saitama to have been battling long before they met. If the feelings she felt were what she thought they were, if she wanted to help him, she had to talk.
They had been intertwined by the godforsaken alien from the very beginning. Two tangled lines that managed to hold strong, but never fully connecting. A thread that had lost their feelings, and another that refused to let them show. But now…
Now was her chance.
The moon shone faintly through the window. The sea of craters outside lay quiet, illuminated in soft blue light. The esper took in the sight as she spoke.
.
"On the ship. That alien. What did Boros tell you?"
.
The words were soft; the question was asked almost gently — but not quite. It held a weight that the both of them could feel.
Saitama looked at her in surprise.
"I don't know if that's what made you come over," Tatsumaki said, eyes reflecting the moonlight. "But I know that look. I know it."
The esper turned to him. "And you made it right after killing him."
"I…" The bald man paused. A part of him was grateful that the esper hadn't recognized his plight with King. Another part of him was just beginning to realize what the esper had said.
He brought up his fist, opening and closing it as if grasping the alien's final words.
"Too strong," Saitama muttered.
Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow.
"He said I was too strong," Saitama said.
Tatsumaki allowed herself a few moments to digest his answer. To the baldy, it felt like an eternity.
"That alien," she said. "Really knows how to get into someone's head, huh?"
"Hm?" Saitama frowned.
The esper shook her head.
"Being too strong," she said, testing the words in her mouth. "You're not happy about it?"
"I…" The baldy thought deeply. "Well, no. It's not like I'm complaining."
"Then what?" the esper frowned. "Why are you so bothered by it?"
"It's… empty," the bald hero said. "Being strong."
"Empty…" Tatsumaki looked to the ceiling in disbelief. A bubble of heat rose in her core.
How absurd. How absolutely absurd.
How could he have the gall to feel somber after saving her — after saving the damn world?! Was he even hearing himself?!
Opening her mouth to snap at him, she looked the baldy in the eyes. Pained. As if he already knew what she was going to say.
The esper sighed.
"You're an idiot," she said.
"What?"
"Taking that dumb alien's words to heart like he knows everything," Tatsumaki said. "You're both battle-obsessed, one-track-minded idiots."
"Listen," Saitama said. "I know that this all sounds lik—"
"Too strong, my ass," the esper rambled. "If you're so strong, then why'd you lose to me?" Tatsumaki stood up. "If you feel so empty, why did I make your heart race?"
The baldy had no response.
"You're not the only one dealing with what that alien left you, got it?" Tatsumaki said, jabbing a finger at his chest. "This whole place — it's a reminder that everyone's trying to live with what he did."
The girl's eyes bore into him.
"We both have to figure things out. So don't go sulking like you're alone in this. Understand?"
Saitama nodded slowly.
"Good." The esper backed away. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to shower."
"I mean, we're already done with dinner, so…" Saitama pointed at the entrance as Tatsumaki walked to her room. "I could leave."
"No. You have to set up that videogame for me," the girl said. And promptly shut the door.
Doors shutting as he was left to wait… it seemed to be a running trend. And continuing that trend, he was once again left to his thoughts.
The only difference was that they didn't quite bother him this time.
.
.
"LEFT!" Tatsumaki shouted. "LEFT!"
"I'm tryi— NO!"
The go-kart plummeted into the abyss, blown up by a bomb thrown from behind.
Another last place for the books.
Tatsumaki smacked the baldy's head.
"That wasn't my fault!" Saitama complained.
"We could've avoided that!"
"And what? Get almost-last instead of dead last?!"
"YES!"
It had been a while since their last time playing together, and it showed. Clumsily playing around for half an hour, the two were consistent — in getting last place. Sitting beside each other on a sofa facing the TV, the two played shoulder-to-shoulder sharing split controls yet again.
"We suck," Saitama said, falling sideways onto the cushions.
"Ugh…"
The esper stood up to get a drink.
Despite having to deal with losing again and again, Tatsumaki was at least thankful that the baldy was in the mood to play at all. After berating him, she half–expected to find him gone after she showered. Instead, he had fully set-up the game and was putting their empty bowls back onto the sink.
It was quite the pleasant surprise.
At least, until the losing part happened.
Tatsumaki poured herself a glass of water, watching as Saitama skipped the game's depressing ending ceremony and started them back at the character selection screen.
She walked quickly back, picking the cool-looking turtle thing as always, and they started playing once more.
.
"Hey," Saitama said as they passed the CPU in 5th place. "Can I ask you about what you said earlier?"
Their kart did a little jump as Tatsumaki pressed the right bumper by accident.
"Y-Yeah?"
"You said I'm not the only one that Boros left with something. Did he talk to you as well?"
Their kart slowed down for just a moment.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," Tatsumaki said, staring at the screen. "What with me being injured and powerless for a week in your place."
"Ah… that," Saitama scratched his head.
"Yeah. That." Tatsumaki said, wanting to end it there.
The visions she had whenever she used her powers…
The esper's eyes widened. They hadn't surfaced since Saitama came along that day. Forty-one monsters killed and the thought never even crossed her mind.
The esper punched the baldy's arm.
"Sorry," he said. "For not noticing."
The girl smiled as she shook her head. "It's fine."
.
They sighed in relief as their kart crossed the finish line. 3rd place wasn't too bad.
Ding dong!
"Hm?" Tatsumaki whipped her head to the entrance.
"Could be a salesman," Saitama said.
The girl walked cautiously towards the door. Cursing that it had no peephole, she opened it just the tiniest bit. She was met with the pale-skinned hero from earlier.
"Hey," Zombieman raised a hand in greeting.
"What're you doing here?" she asked, opening the door fully. She began to whisper. "Did they not believe you when you reported his kills?"
"Not at all. I just wanted to check up on sensei over there," he said. "Figured he'd be around here."
Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes as Saitama looked over from the sofa.
"Hey, you're that zombie guy!" the bald hero said, eyes lighting up with recognition. "What's up?"
"I got something for you," the pale hero called. Bringing out a small envelope from his battered coat, he held it up for the two to see. "I think you'll like it."
"Are those vouchers for steak?" Saitama walked over, intrigued.
"Open it up," Zombieman said, handing it to him.
Tatsumaki watched as they conversed, and decided that she didn't like Zombieman's pleased expression one bit. It was the face of a man who was enjoying what he was doing a little too much. What was in that envelope?
"Ah!" Saitama raised his eyebrows. "This…"
"Going out monster hunting together, I'm proud of you two," Zombieman said, smiling. "Make sure to thank your host over there, sensei."
Tatsumaki glanced at the paper Saitama held.
'Certificate of Promotion — B-Class Rank 1: Saitama, (Hero Name: Caped Baldy)'
Saitama stared at the paper.
"You did this?" he asked, turning to the esper.
.
Zombieman pulled the door shut and walked away quietly, smiling to himself.
'So he's worth it too, huh?'
.
"I— ah," the esper stammered. She wanted to raise his points in secret, not like this!
"Tats?" Saitama asked again.
"I just reported your kills today, that's all!" she said, huffing. "Seeing as to how you're not certified, I figured doing it this way would be faster! I had no clue that you'd be promoted…"
"Thank you," Saitama said.
"It's nothing," she replied quickly. "C'mon, let's—"
.
The baldy embraced her.
"Really," he whispered. It wasn't often that Tatsumaki heard Saitama talk so softly. His voice held a quiet depth that made his words seem more than they were. The words escaped like they'd been trapped for an eternity. "Thanks."
The esper returned the embrace.
"You're welcome…"
.
.
"Alright, let's get a win for once," he said, pulling back and rolling his shoulders. His voice was back to normal in an instant, oblivious and carefree.
As he walked back to the living room, Tatsumaki stood dead-still. Completely red.
"You ready?" Saitama called, making the esper jump.
"In a bit," she called back. "I—I need another drink."
.
The two played deep into the night, groaning and cheering and groaning again. Worries temporarily forgotten, the air between them finally felt light.
"Hey," the esper said as they took a break. "You're moving up to A-Class, right?"
"Probably," Saitama said. "What's up?"
"That's full-fledged professional territory," she said, beginning to smirk. "So maybe we should be more formal with each other."
"Huh?"
"I mean, wouldn't calling you 'Caped Baldy' be more appropriate?" she said, barely stifling her giggling. "I mean, it's such a professional name."
"Gah! Don't!"
"Cape— heh— Caped Baldy! Ahahaha!" she couldn't contain herself anymore. Saitama held his hands over his face as Tatsumaki laughed at his expense.
She'd never let him live that down. He just knew it.
.
.
It's been a while since I've had to write this much dialogue. Not a lot happened in this chapter, but at the same time, a lot happened in this chapter, if that makes sense. I brought a Saitama- and Tatsumaki-centric chapter as promised, and I hope you enjoyed.
The tournament arc is coming up, and I have absolutely no clue what to do with it! I'd love suggestions or discussions about the paths I could take.
There's one thing I know, though. Saitama's gonna have to pay Mumen Rider and Charanko a visit to the hospital for that to happen. And who knows? Tats might come along for the ride. Hope you look forward to that, hehe.
Thanks as always for reading!
-bb