Suiryu flew up, up through the air, arcing above the crowd's eye level. The wind whipped his hair as he fell, down, down…
He hit the ground with a heavy slam, completely unconscious even before impact, and laid still in the cracked floor and rising dust.
Putting his fist down, Saitama let his gaze wander to the crater he had left Suiryu in. After a few moments of inspection, finding the martial artist's chest rising and falling — however erratically it may have been — Saitama closed his eyes and nodded.
The silence simmered for a moment, which he appreciated. No fanfare, no celebration.
Until it erupted all around him.
"CHARANKO TAKES IT ALL!" the announcer gasped, voice nearly trembling; his professionally trained unbiasedness all but forgotten. "The underdog, the last seed of the tournament, has just! Beaten! Suiryu! The four-time Super Fight champ!"
All around the stands, the already-deafening uproar burst into a crescendo. The arena was a ring of hot energy. Not a single soul was left unignited.
It was a stark contrast to those in the center, where all the attention was placed.
Unconscious as Suiryu was, there was not a peep to be heard from him. Save the occasional breath and cracking of rubble, the man was not to wake for at least a few more minutes.
The esper — who went by 'Maki' for the moment — was silent too.
Tatsumaki's eyes were wide. The feelings that rose within her were difficult to describe. It was tight in the chest, yet feathery soft. Breathless and calming all at once. It was scary and it wasn't scary and everything in between. She couldn't utter a word.
And her so-called student was much the same.
As the crowd roared, Saitama closed his eyes and let his feelings settle.
'Finding your purpose, and then feeling empty. That's a whole different kind of boredom altogether.'
His words to Suiryu hadn't come from a place of apathy, as he had wanted them to be — expected them to be, as a matter of fact. Voicing out those thoughts had left him feeling a little more unbalanced than he had realized. Tumult and stormy thoughts that Saitama much rather have kept locked in the depths of his being were threatening to flood out.
And it was clear to a certain esper that he was feeling that way.
"Hey."
Saitama opened his eyes to find Tatsumaki staring at him. He couldn't help but look back.
That familiar emerald gaze.
The new, but welcome, beaming smile. It was the midday sun on a cloudless, windy sky.
Saitama found his sour feelings ebbing slowly away.
The crowd was but a muted crashing of distant waves.
"You did it," Tatsumaki said with simple certainty. As if she'd been assured of his win since the very beginning.
Her voice rolled smoothly along his ears. Like water gently lapping across sand.
It was all he could hear.
.
.
As the two stood in the center of the arena eyeing each other silently, the staff and contestants readied for the closing ceremony. A large check for three million yen — as well as a much more discreet, yet similarly-valuable check for the duo's little 'act' — was being carried by Ponso.
He stole shaky glances at the esper and the camera. His carefully trained demeanor, which had pulled him through many a nerve-wracking moment, was not enough to stifle the fear that crept in.
Their little discussion was still fresh on his mind. And aside from the fact that he would be losing much more money than he'd like, there was also the matter of…
Well… 'it.' The thing they'd discussed just a few minutes ago.
He gave 'Maki' the O.K. to act as she wanted on live television, but that was under life-threatening duress. He did try to talk to her about how the media would respond. The rule-breaking nature of such an action and the possible effects brought about to the Hero Association weren't to be taken lightly.
But it was Tatsumaki. He should've realized who he was speaking to sooner. Much, much sooner.
'Cut your losses. Make it work.' Those were the instructions given to Ponso by the cold-eyed esper. All he could do was nod in reply.
He cut his losses, yes. But 'making it work?' After all the ruckus it would cause? Sure, the media attention and advertising would be phenomenal — his earnings projected to rise drastically, but—
"Over here, sir!"
Ponso smiled raggedly as the cameras pointed to him. He raised the certificate up, making sure to hide the sponsorship payment in his pocket.
Maybe it wasn't too late to go back to the food court and hide.
.
.
'If you win, I'll—'
Again and again those words played in Saitama's mind. It seemed almost tiring the way it continued to nip at his brain, like a song he just couldn't get out of his head. He knew it was a joke. Some counter-teasing that Saitama was more-or-less deserving of, after pulling that whole 'girlfriend' facade. It seemed a little self-absorbed to think about it too much, after how much trouble his own words had caused Tatsumaki.
But he'd won, didn't he?
And she was right there, smiling. Her lips upturned, ribbons in her hair flowing in the slight breeze.
It was a little difficult not to think about it.
"Ready?" Tatsumaki asked, smiling sweetly. With the same, dizzying voice as before.
Saitama blinked. Once. Twice. A third time, too, just to be sure.
"For… what…?"
Tatsumaki pulled the fabric softly from her hair, letting them drop on the ground. She shook her head a little bit, to let her natural curls settle back down.
The esper walked slowly up to him. Held up a finger up to Saitama's face.
.
It glowed green.
And Saitama's wig flew right off.
.
A pin could've dropped from one end of the stadium and been heard from the other.
Someone coughed. Another sniffled. Some were slack-jawed. Some were wide-eyed. Most were in disbelief.
And then the tender, glassy bubble of silence shattered into a million pieces.
Thousands of attendees unified into a single, screaming frenzy.
.
.
"T-T-The Tornado of TERROR?!" Lightning Max's voice barely carried over the vicious screaming of the crowd. He turned to Snek. "Y-You were right…!"
But the very man who created that theory couldn't believe it himself.
"That's… Saitama!" Snek said, eyes widening.
The two heroes' couldn't help but stare at the two forms, trying to confirm — or deny, rather — that who they thought they were seeing were actually them; two heroes that nobody would expect to be together. Through the noise and the heat and the distance between them and the pair onstage, it was easy to be wrong. But they both knew what they saw. Lightning Max knew those psychic powers anywhere. And Snek would never forget the bald man's face for as long as he lived.
And it showed.
"You know that guy?" the blond hero asked, practically having to shout over the noise.
"He was…" Snek rubbed his chin, nodding. "He was with Demon Cyborg. They took the hero test together. Seemed to be acquainted, those two."
"Didn't they get into S-Class?" Max asked, trying to recall the placements in the highest rank of heroes.
"Demon Cyborg did," Snek answered. "But Saita— er, Caped Baldy, was put in C-Class."
"That guy?! The one who rocked Suiryu in a single hit?!" Max said in disbelief, watching as the martial artist in question slowly sat awake, rubbing his head. The hero tried to sympathize, but the dull throbbing in his own skull — notably caused by Suiryu himself — kept those feelings at bay.
"He flunked the exam portion," Snek said blankly, gaze traveling to the quickly-filling stage. Suiryu seemed to still be reeling from the strike. As much as the hero wanted to deny it, he felt it was some sort of justice for the rest of the participants he'd struck down in a single blow. In a few moments, however, he would be obscured from sight.
Snek watched as Saitama and Tatsumaki were hounded by cameras and staff. Clearly there was a ruckus going on about Super Fight's new rules on identity theft — caused by the shady Wolfman debacle last year.
It wasn't above media outlets to use this to get attention, Snek noted. It wasn't everyday that the strongest active hero was seen out and about — and doing— what was the word? Role-playing? With a date, no less. This fact, on top of the identity controversy — it seemed like a dream for news channels everywhere. And a nightmare for the Hero Association.
As much as Snek wanted to continue scrutinizing the development, a hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality.
"We should stay out of it, hm?" Lightning Max said, remembering the sight of Tatsumaki bombarding the alien ship with building-sized rubble and missiles. If this was somehow a mission the Association put her to do, it would be just a tad bit out of their league. The fact that nobody told them about it was as much a clue as any to leave the matter be.
Snek nodded.
Whatever Caped Baldy and the Tornado of Terror were up to, it was something the two would gladly not participate in.
Admittedly, the two looked cute together.
.
.
Sour Face's eyes nearly popped out of his head. The plain look, the orange hair…
He stared at the suddenly-changed face of Saitama in disbelief.
"Charanko… since when have you been bald?!
"And who's that broccoli lady with you?!"
.
.
"I-Is this okay, Tats?!" Saitama said, eyes wide, unable to process the attention of the surrounding mob. "You— I thought—"
It's fine," she said, eyeing the approaching group with an unreadable expression. "I've been thinking about this for a while now."
As the crowd of interviewers and fans began to swarm them, Saitama retreated inward.
.
'For a while…?'
He'd never really felt odd about the attention — or rather, the lack of attention — Tatsumaki gave him. She wasn't all that personable by nature. She was guarded and particular. If she wasn't angry, she much preferred to use her inside voice, even outside.
And that wasn't even considering the fact that Tatsumaki was famous.
That little piece of information was just as significant as another little fact Saitama wasn't particularly fond of.
Where Tatsumaki was praised and adored by heroes and civilians alike, the public's opinion of Saitama was the absolute opposite of that.
He was supposed to be a cheat. A liar. A thief for attention. Not the type of person anyone would want to be caught dead with, especially not an esper of her standing.
And yet, here he was. Basking in sudden praise and applause, with no identity to hide behind.
He felt naked. Completely open to the world's scrutiny.
His ripped gi and bare stomach didn't help matters much, either. He felt a tad bit squeamish.
"Tats," Saitama whispered dryly to the esper beside him. "Are you sure about this?"
Tatsumaki nodded quietly, staring at him with a ghost of a smile.
"But—"
She held up her hand.
Saitama closed his mouth.
.
'It's done.' Even Tatsumaki's thoughts were quiet. Her mind's voice was barely a whisper.
No going back now.
The cheer of the crowd was deafening.
She clearly knew what this little revelation would entail. Media attention, gossip, rumors, outrage. News outlets on the prowl. People talking wherever she went. Wherever they went. They couldn't just say they were 'just friends' either.
'Will you be my girlfriend?'
That little dumb question of Saitama's made sure of things. And if not, her own teasing non-response was the nail in the coffin.
Tatsumaki watched as the baldy shut his eyes tightly, and she frowned.
Clearly he had something on his mind as well — some hesitation about the matter.
She hoped he trusted her enough to understand. She hoped her decision was the right thing to do.
Ignoring the crowd, Tatsumaki watched Saitama carefully.
'Please…'
.
Saitama's heart was hammering.
It wasn't the esper's first time to make it beat as quickly as it did.
But at the same time, it felt like a first in a different way.
Even he knew how strange it would be for her to be seen around with him.
For a moment, it seemed like they would get the chance to be them. Just for a moment. Without any preconceived notions to stifle their actions.
And now, for better or worse, that quiet peace was shattered.
'Why…?'
Another question to pile up on the 'mountain of things about Tatsumaki I can't explain.'
.
The esper had always felt distant.
Not in a bad way, per se. Her keenness on quietness and personal space was something that he'd been aware of from the start. A small bit of her personality that he'd grown to find endearing. And it wasn't like he was much different in that regard.
However, as much as he reasoned with himself, it was something Tatsumaki seemed much more used to doing around him than the other way around.
.
She flew ahead of him and Genos as they made their way to the hot spring; the flickering trail of energy as she grew accustomed to using her powers again.
He didn't think too much of it then.
'Stay behind for a few minutes so we don't get associated.'
Somehow, that stung. Just a little bit.
.
She left another time, on the way back to her apartment. His sleeves were torn and he was covered in monster blood.
'Go ahead of me.'
It was to give him credit for the monsters they killed while he went off to change. It was supposed to be a nice surprise. And it turned out more surprising than even she'd expected — he was promoted because of her.
.
Saitama picked out bananas for the both of them to bring to the hospital.
'Just pick one without me. I'll go and make sure we can actually talk to the heroes that were attacked."
Going ahead of him to the hospital…
Tatsumaki was scared, as he'd learned afterwards from Fubuki. He figured she didn't want to show that in front of him.
Saitama remembered how much the esper didn't want to tell Fubuki that she had lost and was injured. Habits died hard, but it was sweet that the green-haired esper decided to give up the charade before they went back to his place.
.
It didn't bother him at all. None of it did.
At least, that's what he told himself.
.
Seeing Tatsumaki leave all the time; seeing her tiptoe away from the notion that she didn't want to be seen around him, even despite how good-natured it seemed, it weighed on him. In the dead of night, or on particularly bad days. And it had been doing so more and more often as of late.
He almost didn't expect her to come today. He couldn't put into words how happy he was that she'd arrived. Being dressed up? It was almost too good to be true.
.
Saitama did want to be seen with her.
But at the same time, he knew he shouldn't want to. Not yet. Not with how people saw him.
As much as Tatsumaki tried to reassure him, it was simple fact. His status as a hero? In the people's eyes? It was nonexistent. And not even Tatsumaki, with all her status and power, could change the thoughts of people who didn't want their thoughts changed.
So, even if it was just for a few moments, even if it was something he found fleetingly important, he questioned himself. Was he fine with how things were? Was he fine trying to stay stagnant despite how problematic it would be further down the road? Did he deserv—
.
Then his wig flew right off. And he couldn't ask questions anymore.
.
.
"Since when have you known Miss Tornado?"
"Was this excursion in this tournament a mission from the Hero Association?"
"Have the other heroes participating in this tournament been informed of this?"
"What is your name, sir?!"
"Who are you?"
"Tell us your name!"
Saitama stepped back, and microphones jabbed carelessly forward to fill in the space he gave them.
"Uhh, I…" the bald man blinked awkwardly, eyes bombarded by camera flashes amongst the dozens of desperate faces that swarmed him.
"Your name, sir!"
"Tell us!"
"Sir, the world would like to know!"
"I— please, um, give me a little bit of room," Saitama said, wincing as he was pushed forward by yet another swarm of eager reporters.
.
A few meters away, Tatsumaki stood surrounded by her own little ring of loud, overzealous, microphone-holding annoyances.
She didn't quite know why she hadn't blasted the damn interviewers away from her already. Why were there even so many of them? To question every single participant at the same time?
Tatsumaki wanted to send them flying, but as she raised her arms, a feeling held her back.
Maybe it was because she could hardly believe that she'd done what she did. Maybe it was because she wanted to answer the questions that she knew people have been asking day in and day out.
Or maybe it was because she was finally able to do things the way she wanted.
She smiled inwardly.
This was his moment, after all. He won. Not a disciple of Silverfang, nor a student of Maki. Not Charanko.
Saitama.
Whatever her doubts were about the situation, whatever unsettled feelings remained within her, she knew.
This was the right thing to do. The perfect time and place to reveal themselves to the world. It was better to face these things head-on, after all. Muddle through despite her fears. Despite his fears. It had to happen one way or another, so why not be the one to choose?
She just hoped he was okay with it.
"Is that really you, Miss Tornado?"
Tatsumaki scoffed, lifting a finger to make the ground rumble. "Of course."
"W-What is the purpose of your attendance in our humble tournament?"
"What'd you want me to say? Work? Sightseeing?" she rolled her eyes. "I'm here 'cuz I want to be. Otherwise I wouldn't be all dressed up." She saw the murmurs among the reporters. They were eyeing her. "Don't. Ask."
Her heart was racing. She hoped they couldn't notice.
"Who is accompanying you, miss?"
"My… er. My dear friend," she said, trying to stop the catch in her throat.
The interviewers were thrown into a tizzy.
.
.
"We're friends! Everything we said or did here was an act!" Tatsumaki shouted. "We came here on a whim, and it just so happened that we won! I didn't help him at all. Get that through your thick skulls!"
As positive as she wanted to be, the grating questions of the rabble had successfully gotten on her nerves. The fact that they were able to wrest her from Saitama's side wasn't helping matters, either.
She scanned the crowd frantically, but to no avail.
"Listen," she said, hands glowing green. "I've answered everything you needed to hear. I'm not taking any more questions. Now go away and let me get back to Sai—"
A gruff looking man in a suit stepped forward briskly, grabbing her shoulder from behind.
"How will you two excuse your inaction during this time of crisis?" he asked slowly. The gusto of the crowd was lost on him. And the energy seemed to seep into the surrounding area. The reporters looked at each other dubiously. Had something happened outside of the arena? Had the organizers kept information away from them?
The esper turned around, eyes narrowed. She pushed his hand away with her powers.
"What do you mean, 'crisis?'" she asked.
The man didn't look amused. "You mean to say that, as the highest-ranking hero, you have been unaware of the current state of matters outside?"
"I don't need the condescension," Tatsumaki said quietly. "Spit it out."
"There is a monster invasion in several cities," the man said. "Creatures wreaking havoc. Buildings upturned. Demons and Dragons prancing about, nearly unchecked. While you've been wasting your time here."
"I…" Tatsumaki blinked. "Outside…?"
The green-haired esper gasped.
She felt it. A burning sensation in her stomach. An alarm blaring in her mind.
With barely a second thought, the esper blasted into the sky. Away from the arena. The reporters. The scrutiny.
.
Fubuki was in danger.
.
"Saitama," the baldy finally blurted. "My name's Saitama."
A quick buzz from the reporters.
"Mister Saitama! A question, if you will!"
"Yeah, um… sure?"
"What's your relationship with Miss Tornado?"
There was an expectant pause at the question.
"She's… my friend," Saitama said slowly.
And the reporters sprang to life.
"But you asked her to be your girlfriend!"
Saitama put his hands up. "T-That was an act! And she didn't ev—"
"What did she say?!"
Saitama winced. "I… uh… she was just teasing when—"
"How did you two even meet?"
"Why is Miss Tornado coaching you?"
"Will you be getting married soon?!"
The reporters pressed forward, and the baldy couldn't help but to move back. Step by step he retreated back to the edge of the arena — and away from where he last saw Tatsumaki.
A blast of wind sent his gaze skyward. And he saw her.
Tatsumaki flew off, an emerald streak in the sky that dipped quickly past the arena walls and out of his sight.
.
.
The sound of a whip cracking echoed through the open city.
Fubuki grimaced as it grazed her shoulder, her powers and perception barely able to keep her from serious injury. The whip snapped backwards into the hands of the esper's attacker.
"Those powers are quite something," Fubuki's opponent mused. The humanoid monster with black sclera and a mask — going by the name Do-S — paced around languidly. "But not invincible. I mean, just look at you."
Covered in shallow scrapes and bruises, Fubuki clicked her tongue. Watching with utmost focus as Do-S walked casually, several meters away, it was a complete blow to her pride. Fubuki raised her arms to attack and—
"Go get her, boys," Do-S giggled.
The esper groaned in frustration as she was pounced upon by a group of attackers.
Brainwashed heroes. Four, to be exact. B- and C-Class heroes with decent showings for themselves — up until now, that is. They proved to be useless in a fight against an overwhelmingly strong opponent.
Fubuki dodged their attacks and sent them flying back with her powers, trying not to give them any lasting damage.
If it was just the heroes she had to battle, it would have been simple. Push them away and attack until they were knocked unconscious. The only consolation to her predicament was the uncoordinated, bumbling movement of her brainwashed attackers. There was no finesse, just pure, brute force. However much it disrupted her focus, they were becoming predictable.
Before she could land a decisive hit on any of the heroes, however, Fubuki was met with another whip crack that tore through the air.
She raised her hands to stop it, made another attempt to snatch it, but failed as Do-S pulled the weapon away as quick as it came.
Fubuki growled.
If the monster was by herself, the fight would have been much easier. A single whip was completely shut down by a simple psychic hold on the attacker's hands. But the monster's speed and knowledge of the distance to keep from Fubuki were beginning to peel cracks in the esper's battle plans.
The combination of both the monster's- and the heroes' attacks was taxing on Fubuki's power output. She was struck in a deadly balance between defense and offense, and her timing needed adjustment. Fast.
Regrettably, Fubuki found solace in the fact that she didn't bring her group with her this time around.
.
'Go off and find some monsters to defeat,' she had said before splitting paths with the Fubuki Group. 'Do not challenge Demon level threats, and remember to communicate within yourselves to keep the injuries to a minimum.'
Her subordinates nodded gravely as monsters roared and the sounds of battle echoed around them.
Fubuki made her way to a nearby request for assistance, watching as her group ran off to different parts of the city they were assigned to.
'Before I can lead others,' she thought as she ran, alone, to her destination. 'I need to be strong.'
Visions of the blast that shattered the sky were burned into her memory. The alien ship. The news reporter and Child Emperor's panic. The explosion. The following emptiness. The static on her TV.
Saitama was able to beat a creature like that.
And she already knew what her sister was capable of.
The absolute pinnacle of power.
Those two were the ideals she strived for.
.
Fubuki dodged yet another strike from Do-S' whip, and was able to push the brainwashed heroes back quickly. One of them hit a lamppost with a painful 'CLANG!' and was knocked clean out. The other smashed into the floor facefirst, and didn't get up.
'Two more,' she muttered.
Do-S growled.
.
'If they led a group,' Fubuki thought amidst the raging battle. 'It would be unparalleled.'
She was able to grab hold of the monster's whip as she mulled over her thoughts. Finding a solid hold on it, Fubuki pulled the monster sharply sideward, forcing Do-S to let go of her weapon.
"RAH!"
Fubuki stepped back to dodge an attack from the two remaining heroes, their fists connecting with nothing but thin air. Her concentration, having slipped for just a moment, allowed the whip to fall through the air. It was snatched instantly back by the monster.
.
'And it's not even because of their strength,' Fubuki thought. 'At least, that isn't completely it.'
Another hero was knocked out. The impact of his head against Fubuki's barrier sent his body limp, and Fubuki sent him flying straight towards Do-S. She apologized softly as the hero hit the curb, unable to slam into the fast-moving monster.
'It's because of their convictions.'
Fubuki pulled the final brainwashed hero into the middle-point of the monster's whip, snuffing out the attack's momentum and providing a clean hold for Fubuki to snag as it whirled around the man. At the very least, the hero's armor kept him from taking too much damage.
'Saitama is self-assured and steadfast.'
The whip glowed blue, finally trapped under Fubuki's psychic hold.
'Sister doesn't hesitate to say when things don't meet her standards.'
She launched the armored hero — whip included — into a nearby building, leaving him trapped, indented into the wall. His mouth opened in a voiceless gasp as the wind was expelled from his lungs.
Do-S snarled as she was disarmed.
"You bitc—"
"Hellstorm."
The battlefield was set alight with whistling stone.
.
.
'She's hurt… just a bit.'
Tatsumaki flew, the wind whipping her hair and white qipao.
Fubuki was nearby. Fighting. Caught up and damaged in the monster mess that Tatsumaki had absolutely no clue about.
Distracted by the tournament, watching Saitama win and keep winning, listening to his compliments, accepting his embrace…
Spending time together. Revealing who they really were. It was all torn away from her by the pressures of reality. She was a hero, first and foremost. A sister, second.
She figured it was much too good to last.
It wasn't like Saitama would—
'Saitama…!'
The esper paused mid-flight and hovered in the air, aghast that she hadn't realized sooner.
Tatsumaki felt herself gently falling, inch by inch. She turned towards the arena, which was already miles away.
'He can handle himself,' she said, shaking her head. 'He'll understand.'
Either way, she had to make things quick.
Just another monster to kill. Just like before. Nothing to it.
Ignoring the dark feelings that grew inside her, the esper flew off.
.
Tatsumaki touched her neck out of habit.
.
.
'At least this much,' Fubuki said, arms outstretched and hair flowing back in the whirlwind. 'I have to be able to overcome at least this much.'
The raging twister of debris settled, and Do-S dropped to her knees. The flesh of her arms were left cut and bleeding. Her mask was cracked.
Fubuki walked up to the monster slowly. Her breaths were shaky and her head felt like it was about to burst.
"Your control over others, it's psychic energy, correct?" Fubuki leaned down to ask the monster.
She shrugged as silence greeted her. It wasn't as if she expected a response.
Fubuki's hands glowed blue, and the monster was sent tumbling away.
"You're durable," the esper mused, walking slowly towards Do-S. Rubble floated all around them. "But another hellstorm should do the tri—"
The monster's serrated whip snapped from behind Fubuki, striking her back like a sword. The air crackled with the esper's blood.
"Ah…!" Fubuki gasped, turning her head.
.
She had been hit by the armored hero she had thrown into the building wall.
His breath was steaming and his movements were unbalanced, but the man's aim with the weapon had been true. Clearly she hadn't done enough damage to knock him out.
'Careless,' she thought, putting her hand on her cut shoulder. 'Stupid!'
The esper raised her leg to walk, but a sharp pain caused her to stagger. Her wound felt much deeper than it should have been.
The armored hero walked past Fubuki and handed the whip back to Do-S.
The monster sneered, rising up from the ground. "You're done for!"
Fubuki tried to raise her arms, but felt a pull downward. The wound at her back was searing. It came in waves, reaching all the way up her nerves, into her spine, and making its way into her mind.
A headache struck her, quickly and intensely.
'Kneel,' was the only thought Fubuki had.
Her calves tensed. Her knees threatened to lurch forward.
'What… is… this…?!' she thought, gritting her teeth as she strained against the suggestions in her brain.
"Oooh… strong even in spirit, I see," Do-S cooed, walking towards the esper.
The monster reached a hand to the esper's head, readying her whip to wrap around Fubuki's neck. Beneath her mask, she smiled cruelly.
"I'd better— gh?!"
What felt like a vicious uppercut struck the monster's chin.
Fubuki's full form glowed blue, and a wave of pressure sent Do-S and the brainwashed hero flying.
Fubuki stood up screaming, fighting against the waves of fire that washed through her very being. Her mind was hers.
With a flick of her finger, she sent the armored hero flying into the building once more.
But just a tad different. Instead of trapping him against the wall, Fubuki sent the man flying straight through, crashing headfirst into the darkness and smoke within.
She didn't have the luxury of holding back.
Raising a hand to trap Do-S' whip one last time, the raven-haired esper closed her fis—
.
A far-off explosion rocked the ground around the city.
A plume of smoke rose straight up like a volcanic eruption in the distant horizon. It covered a portion of the sky, covering a swathe of the city in shadow.
.
"Sister…?" Fubuki said softly.
The glow in her hands flickered, and that was all Do-S needed.
The monster raised her arms to send her whip crashing down; the tip moved faster than sound, straight for the raven-haired esper's skull—
And was smashed to the ground beneath the force of a hundred atmospheres.
.
"Fubuki!" Tatsumaki said, landing roughly on the street, hand glowing green.
The younger esper stepped back in shock.
Tatsumaki looked frantic. Her eyes darted about; her hands were shaking. An attack that would have taken the green-haired girl naught but a thought seemed to take its toll on her whole body.
"Are you okay?!" the older esper flew quickly forward, putting her hands on Fubuki's shoulders.
"I— I'm fine!" Fubuki said, being turned around left and right by her overbearing sister. "I was— about to— win!"
Tatsumaki let go of Fubuki, floated down, and let out a deep, pent-up sigh.
She put her hands on her face and took several deep breaths to settle herself.
Fubuki tilted her head.
"A-Are you okay, sis?"
.
Tatsumaki turned to look at her, blinking. Then she shook her head and faced the monster she'd just buried in the ground.
For a moment, flashes of the alien took its place. For a moment, a glowing white hand rose from the rubble. A manic, one-eyed form pulled itself out. Black sclera. Long hair. Mouthless. It raised an arm above its head, ready to attack, and Tatsumaki was gripped with a breathless fear.
.
"Sister!"
.
Immediately, Tatsumaki snapped out of her trance.
Saw the monster readying its whip, black sclera and long hair and mask muffling the bone-chilling snarl that reverberated around the battlefield.
And crushed it into a puddle of blood.
It pittered down like rain, onto her face. Her hair.
Her dress. The red seeped into the pale fabric, tracing ugly lines down the qipao.
Tatsumaki touched her neck.
.
Fubuki walked forward, trying to reach her arm out to Tatsumaki.
The green-haired esper snapped her head towards her sister.
"Where's your group?" Her foot tapped.
"Ah… nearby," Fubuki said. She added hurriedly, "They aren't doing too bad!"
Tatsumaki opened her mouth to speak, but shook her head.
Raising a finger, she tried to pull the blood away from her clothes.
A few droplets were able to escape, but the dark red — and quickly drying — stains were latching on fast.
Tatsumaki clicked her tongue.
.
Fubuki could tell something was on her sister's mind.
If the dress was of no clue, it was her impatience. The tapping of feet. Hands on hips. Gazing back at the way she flew in from.
The blood seemed to be another source of grievance with Tatsumaki, too. Her usual, well-prepared and matter-of-fact demeanor was nowhere to be seen. The way she killed that monster just now… it was like nothing she'd seen before. Much too sloppy for her sister. Not killing the creature in one blow? Not putting up a barrier to block the blood that she knew would spill out?
Clearly something was up. More than just one thing.
Was Fubuki supposed to ask?
Perhaps she wasn't the right person to do it.
.
Tatsumaki turned around, raising her head to the sky.
She felt her sister's gaze on her.
She knew that Fubuki could tell something was wrong.
And, for once, she wanted to talk.
.
"I…" Tatsumaki turned to Fubuki.
The raven-haired esper's waited patiently.
"I have to go," Tatsumaki said, eyes down.
Silence for a moment.
"Where?"
But Fubuki already knew. "To him, yeah?" she said softly.
Tatsumaki nodded.
Fubuki closed her eyes and bowed her head down once.
"It's not like I can stop you," the raven-haired girl said, turning around to walk away.
"Fubuki…"
"Don't mind me. Go," the younger esper said, waving a hand. "You didn't even need to be here. I would've won on my own. Just like you wanted, right?"
.
Turning a corner and not even bothering to look back, Fubuki leaned onto a wall.
Saitama. Again.
Her sister looked so pretty in her outfit. Did she put on a bit of makeup, too?
Fubuki slid slowly down.
She said she'd be okay with it. She gave Saitama her regards. A flower to show her acceptance.
Admittedly, it felt so easy then. To get to terms with the idea of another person in Tatsumaki's life. She was changing for the better. Going out and meeting people — even if it was just the one guy.
It was good, then.
Fubuki was better off not needing to worry about her sister.
Tatsumaki could take care of herself. She always did.
Nothing was different.
Nothing changed.
Nothing that concerned her.
The raven-haired girl sat down on the floor, breathing heavily.
She had more time to focus on the things that mattered. Her group. Her rank. Her status. Without her sister to constantly dote on and worry for, there was nothing she couldn't d—
.
"Fubuki."
The sun gleamed around the corner.
Tatsumaki turned slowly to face her and squatted down to meet Fubuki eye-to-eye.
'More words,' Fubuki thought dully. 'More excuses. More 'next times.''
"You did well," was all Tatsumaki said.
She patted Fubuki's head.
.
'To lead, I have to be strong.'
'Follow Saitama's advice.'
'Emulate sister's power.'
.
Being alone was the answer Tatsumaki always gave her.
Honing her abilities. Being mindlessly self-centered. Sacrificing connections to stay focused — and, more importantly, to stay safe. Without the crutch of bonds that threatened betrayal or incompetence.
Saitama told her she was distracted. His answer was to realign her convictions.
What did being a hero mean to her?
.
Maybe it was to gain popularity. Or form connections she wouldn't have been able to otherwise. Or use her abilities in a field that best suited her.
She was gifted with powers, after all. It would be a waste not to use it for her own benefit. If it helped others, that was a bonus.
It was quite selfish, now that she thought about it. But probably not the kind of selfishness her sister would approve of.
It wasn't like she didn't want to do good, though. Saving people was something she'd quickly grown to love. A reminder that, despite her nature, she could turn it to do something good.
Eyes of adoration were something that pierced her soul, and would never fail to do so. The thought that she could make a difference that others could not, the thought that, even through her flaws, she was able to inspire awe and gratefulness in others — it was healing, to say the least.
To be a hero… it wasn't something she could answer as easily as her peers.
Her sister, especially.
Fubuki bet that if she asked Tatsumaki the very same question, she would reply as simply as she could.
'To save people.'
Tatsumaki never did show her self-doubt. And being a hero was something Fubuki pinned to be one of the reasons her sister was who she was.
Maybe Fubuki became a hero in order to understand Tatsumaki. To help show her helplessly misguided older sister a way out of her lonely shell.
Was she that selfless?
Fubuki didn't know. Being a hero wasn't something that she could define as one thing or another.
Her group had always been a concern. They weren't the strongest of heroes, but they were dedicated. Their teamwork and consistency were amazing to see, and it inspired the raven-haired girl to work even harder. To the point that everyone would see.
But recent events have shown that this drive meant nothing if they weren't strong.
Demon-level threats were growing. The level of danger that the cities faced on a daily basis was on a rise.
For a while, Fubuki thought it would be fine. She had beaten the occasional Demon before.
But her group simply could not.
They began to lose.
Some of her comrades got injured. Some quit.
Slowly, slowly, she began to think being alone was the answer. That her sister was right.
And then he appeared. He'd saved her. Shown the value of companionship that Fubuki could not.
Fubuki was happy. She had to be.
After all, it's what she wanted, right? To be rid of the nagging at the back of her mind.
Being alone is the answer.
Tatsumaki will never change.
Those thoughts were gone. Replaced with things that were a little more complicated. Dizzying. Confusing.
'Logical thoughts,' she told herself. 'Take it piece by piece and…'
It still didn't make sense.
Rationality slipped past her guard and away, away…
.
Her older sister's hand on her head was all she needed to feel fine.
.
"I could've handled the monster on my own," Fubuki complained softly, leaning into her sister's soft pats.
"I know," Tatsumaki said, her thumb brushing Fubuki's hair. "You've gotten stronger. Now stay still, okay?"
Fubuki obliged, feeling her sister's powers seep into her skin.
.
'Sister, look!' A young Fubuki waved at Tatsumaki from the playground. Her older sister had come to pick her up, after discovering she had snuck out to play with her friends again.
Fubuki was usually fearful and meek as she was brought back home, but today was different. It had to be.
"What?" Tatsumaki tilted her head.
Fubuki knew her sister disapproved of her friends. Many of them she made by showing off her powers. Making frogs float, turning grass and flower stems into beautiful knots.
The one with her today was someone she'd just met. He scraped both knees after falling from a bike.
It took a bit of comforting and convincing, but Fubuki managed to get his permission to use her powers on him.
One of his knees was no longer in pain — at least, that's what the boy had told her. The bleeding had stopped, too. It wasn't fully healed, but it was much farther along recovery than it normally would have been.
"Sister, watch!"
Fubuki healed the boy's other knee to the best of her ability.
For a moment, Tatsumaki's eyes widened.
And then she was back to their usual sullen self.
"Let's go."
Fubuki stood up and nodded, making her way to grab her sister's hand.
The walk home was quieter than usual.
.
Fubuki didn't think Tatsumaki had remembered. She hadn't talked about it, nor had she used her powers to do that for anybody.
It showed, too.
Aside from a small pulse of rejuvenation and a slowed trickle of blood from Fubuki's wounds, Tatsumaki had barely managed to do what Fubuki did all those years ago.
But she tried, and that was all that mattered.
"Sister…" Fubuki said.
"That was…" Tatsumaki replied quickly. "Really bad."
Fubuki shook her head. And pulled her sister into a hug.
.
.
The two brought the four ex-brainwashed, still-unconscious heroes into a line by the sidewalk. Their powers mixed into a sort of blue-green haze. With a little more green than blue, of course. Even distracted as she was, Tatsumaki was still undoubtedly stronger.
Fubuki stepped away a few paces to use her phone.
'I'm done here,' the younger esper typed quickly, sending the message to her group. 'Need help with some of the injured.'
Reading back, she found that the others had been able to defeat some monsters of their own.
'Good job, guys,' she clicked on her phone.
It was, all in all, a good day for Fubuki. Her group did good work; they were able to keep the area assigned to them safe, and were actively searching for more areas to defend. And for Fubuki's part, she'd beaten a Demon-level threat on her own. And more importantly, she'd made some sort of amends with herself and her sister.
She still didn't know how to feel about her sister being stolen away, despite how nice she knew Saitama was. But if it was any consolation to the two, the changes that had appeared in her sister — the softer tone, the more expressive concerns, the smiles — it made it hard to be jealous.
Fubuki took a glance at Tatsumaki. The younger esper caught her glancing back, but Tatsumaki broke her gaze almost as soon as they met.
That was new.
Good new.
New enough to make the green-haired esper want to try something.
.
Fubuki broke the silence.
"Your boyfriend's waiting."
Bullseye.
Tatsumaki flinched, whipping her head to look at her. "He's not my—"
"Oh, please," Fubuki rolled her eyes. "Since when have you dressed up like that for anybody?"
"He's my friend," Tatsumaki huffed. "And one of the first ones I've made, thank you very much. Of course I'd dress up to meet him."
"In that," Fubuki said, with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure he'd love it."
A pause.
"H-He did."
"Oh…?" The younger esper tilted her head, eyes twinkling. "So you already met up?" She feigned surprise. "Ahh, you left him? For your little sister who you thought was in danger?"
"Obviously!"
"Is that why you were so antsy a while ago, killing the monster and sulking like that? Because you miss him?" Fubuki raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I didn't think you had it in you to be so lovesick."
"Lo— Fubuki! Watch your mouth!"
The younger esper covered it, laughing softly.
"Ugh." Tatsumaki rolled her eyes. Her face was tinged with red. "I left without saying, so…"
"Go. Shoo," Fubuki said, waving her hands for Tatsumaki to leave. "I'm sure he misses you."
"Don't push your luck," Tatsumaki said, pouting.
And she was off.
.
Fubuki sighed as she watched her sister in the distance.
.
.
"There's a what?!"
"A monster outbreak!"
"C'mon, you two! Don't dawdle!"
Saitama ran, following Snek and Lightning Max outside of the arena.
'Tats must've heard the news before us…' Saitama thought, frowning.
The wind whipped past their faces.
"What horrible timing…" Snek said, checking his transmitter. "We didn't even think to check the reports…"
"We couldn't have done anything about it," Max replied. His face was gaunt.
"But the media will find a way to put that against us," Snek said, running up in front.
The three hopped over the barriers for entry, finding no one to tell them off.
"It seems that only the people inside were left uninformed…" Lighting Max said, looking back at the empty gates.
"Ah!" Snek stopped abruptly.
"What is it?" Max asked, skidding to a halt beside him.
The sharp-faced hero turned to Saitama.
"You know Demon Cyborg, right?" Snek asked him.
"Yep, why?"
"He's been active around this area, thank goodness," Snek said, checking the recent reports for monster kills nearby. "But… his signal has gone silent."
Saitama felt a pit in his stomach. "You mean…?"
"He might be injured," Max whispered. "And for an S-Class hero to be put out of commission…"
Snek tossed the transmitter to Saitama.
"Go. We'll inform the people inside," Snek said. "And defend the arena if need be."
The bald man nodded and disappeared.
"Let's head back," Max said. "Get our equipment."
Snek nodded, turning to face the gates.
As the two ran inside the stadium, they looked at one another.
If the monster that defeated Genos was still around, and if it targeted the stadium on a whim…
"I have a bad feeling about this," Snek muttered.
The shadow of the arena covered the two in darkness.
.
.
'Get yourself together, Tatsumaki!' The esper slapped her forehead mid-flight. 'Visions, really?!'
She wiped sweat off her brow.
Even though her body felt fine, there was a dark cloud that permeated throughout her mind. Where was this fatigue coming from?
Maybe it was from her laughable attempt at healing her sister. Maybe it was their talk. Those always left her feeling unsteady, one way or another.
.
'This unfounded stubbornness will be your demise!"
.
But she knew what was really going on. She didn't know why, but it was happening again. And not in the middle of the night. Not in the comfort of her bed.
She was scared of fighting. Her body reacted viscerally to the thought of using her powers to kill.
It was pathetic. And made no sense.
She'd been fine for the longest time now. Granted, she had been avoiding hero work as much as she could, but…
She really thought she would be fine by now.
She had been fine for a while.
Tatsumaki shook her head.
It was all just her imagination. It was all in her mind.
Those visions.
.
The burning claw on her throat.
The eye whose intensity she could not match.
The form she could not budge.
.
Smoke billowed around the city. Dozens of buildings were damaged as far as the eye could see. Once in a while, a thrum sounded from below, and buildings shook.
Should she patrol the area…? It would take a few minutes, but she could help. She could save people. She could get over the stupid flashes of fear in the depths of her soul.
But…
'Saitama…'
The green glow around Tatsumaki flickered.
.
.
Sirens blared. The ground rumbled. Glass shattered. Car alarms wailed in the distance. The noises and sights only grew as the bald hero made his way to the location in the transmitter.
Saitama found his disciple in a shattered crater on the ground.
He was barely conscious. His body was contorted, twisted, bent in ways that made Saitama want to look away.
"Sen… sei…" the cyborg managed to wheeze out.
"Genos!" Saitama rushed to his side.
Should he pull the cyborg out of the ground? What if he damaged him more? What if he ended up doing more harm than good?
The baldy raised his hands helplessly.
"It's… okay… sensei…" Genos said. Was his voice getting weaker? "I sent for… Doctor Kuseno's… assistance…"
"Ah!"
'Thank goodness…'
Saitama let out a breathy sigh.
It was just like before.
Genos on the brink of death.
Saitama standing in the pouring rain, helpless.
.
A few minutes later, a drone came down from above, latched Genos onto it, and pulled him gently off the ground.
"Saitama sensei…" the cyborg began, finally managing the energy to speak once more. "There's a monster… headed for the arena…"
Saitama stood up slowly, matching the height of the low-hovering drone.
"The one that did this to you."
But the cyborg had slipped into unconsciousness already.
Only the whirring of the drone's blades and the soft pitter of dust and rubble below could be heard.
Genos' arms drooped, puppet-like, as the machine lifted him higher off the ground. Pieces of metal from his arm fell down onto the ground. Saitama could do nothing but watch.
Eventually, the drone confirmed that it was indeed Genos that it had picked up, and began to rise rapidly. After a few moments, it flew beyond the rooftops and disappeared.
.
.
It could well have been Tatsumaki's dozenth kill that day. Likely, it was more. The weaker monsters loved to group together. She barely registered a lone monster from two or three.
But still…
There was a phantom ache in her mind. Her powers were following her every whim, her every order, just like always. But something felt off. A draw, a pull, away from killing and fighting.
She didn't want to be there.
She wanted to go back.
Back to an hour before, hell— back to the start of the day.
Where everything was clear, and exciting, and fun, and better. Better than this. Better than whatever was in store afterwards.
"Ghh…"
Tatsumaki placed her palms to her temples, refusing to let any more visions plague her.
.
She could sense just a few more.
A few more in the area, and she could go back.
That is, if the trouble hadn't reached the arena and ruined that, too.
Tatsumaki floated upwards, closing her eyes.
It seemed that the people had evacuated already. That was good.
She could tell the monsters weren't all that tough, too. The faint blips of energy that bounced back to her were signs that she was left to deal with rabble. Property damage was the most she could prevent, at that point.
"Oh my, how unexpected~!"
Tatsumaki whirled around, forming a barrier to—
It was a tiny, pink, flying eye. And it was talking to her.
Tatsumaki responded as naturally as anyone would.
"What."
The pink blobs of flesh twisted like eyelids, making it evident that the creature was amused. It laughed.
"I'm Gyoro Gyoro," said the eye, dipping in the air to bow. "Or rather, a part, of Gyoro Gyoro."
Tatsumaki raised a hand, unamused. It glowed green.
"Wait, wait!" the eye said. It twirled around in the air. "Don't you want to know what's going on?!"
"I do," Tatsumaki said, tracking the creature with her hand. "But not from you."
"Relax!" the eye said, retreating a few meters away. "You can trust me."
Odd as the creature was, Tatsumaki found talking to it was better than fighting. At least for the moment. But that didn't mean she trusted it.
"Prove it," Tatsumaki said.
"C'mon," part-of-Gyoro-Gyoro replied cheerfully. "I'll show you where some monsters are!"
.
The two descended down onto an empty street.
"I've patrolled this area before," Tatsumaki said, frowning. "A few minutes ago.
The eye shook its… eye.
"Not exactly," it said.
The eye pointed its fleshy wing to a spot below them.
"The monster attacks started a while ago," Gyoro Gyoro explained. "But some weaklings were late to arrive. And are hiding until all the heroes are dead or gone."
"Under a schedule?" Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes at the creature. "You're saying this as if it was planned."
"Oh, most definitely!"
Dread crept in.
"Explain."
"As you wish, madam!"
The eye fluttered about in a way it presumed to be grand.
"We are the Monster Association!" Gyoro Gyoro announced boldly, fluttering high and low. "And our goal is to unite the monster world with humanity. A noble cause stifled only by hostility and violence from both sides!"
At the line, the ground began to rumble.
Black, antennaed creatures burst forth. At least a few hundred crawled up from the rippling earth. Like squirming dark maggots.
Tatsumaki curled her nose up.
"Weaklings," one of the creatures spat, facing the eye creature. "You introduced us as weaklings?!"
"Stop that stupid, stuck-up schtick!" another rolled its eyes. "She's obviously not gonna take that kinda logic, not after this whole damn invasion's been goin' on!"
"And we aren't even late!" yet another said. "You were the one that told us to come out at—"
A swathe of the pitch-black creatures was crushed under psychic powers. Not Tatsumaki's, which the green-haired esper noted with shock.
The eye bowed gracefully at her, then turned back to look at the creatures.
"Please do not misunderstand," Gyoro Gyoro said to them. "This is the world-renowned Tornado of Terror! You are formidable, all of you, but this is one of the worst battles we could have chosen. To her, you are weak."
"Then why have us fight her in the first place?!" Several of the pitch-black creatures waved a fist up at the eye.
"Because you wanted to fight, am I wrong?"
"We wanted to let loose, not be treated as some stupid fodder for an area-of-effect chick! Are you stupid?"
"Hush now," the eye said. "We must—"
The ground was leveled under a tsunami of rubble bathed in emerald light.
"You're wasting my time," Tatsumaki said, taking a deep breath.
The eye looked unperturbed.
"Precisely. I am glad you understand," it said. Then flew off. "Please feel free to let loose, Tatsumaki."
The esper made to crush the little eyeball.
Instead, her attack struck a living, writhing black wave the size of a building.
"Not so fast, missy," thousands of voices said in unison. "We're your target for now."
"Didn't that eye say you were no match for me?" Tatsumaki waved a hand, and the wave crumbled into dust.
But it built itself up again.
The creatures smirked.
"You never know 'til you try," the mass of monsters said. "Just so happens that we can try again, and again, and again, and…"
Tatsumaki's breathing was growing annoyingly unsteady.
Ants. Maggots. Bugs.
Just like before.
"I don't have time for this," she whispered.
The ground was pulled up, swirling, swirling…
The clouds were pulled down, spiraling, twisting…
And the battlefield was submerged in chaos of the esper's design.
The swarm of pitch-black monsters could do nothing against it.
.
Tatsumaki fought against nothing but herself.
The visions.
The gripping fears.
.
.
The arena thudded with a single impact.
A monstrous Bakuzan grinned, basking in the effortless power he now wielded.
Suiryu was dead. Crushed under his foot.
He cackled, lifting his now-enormous limb. A bloody pulp—
"Hrm?"
There was nobody beneath him. His blow had struck nothing but solid concrete.
A fluttering fabric caught the monster's eye. As well as the gleam of a bald head.
"Y-You…!"
.
Laying Suiryu down gently on the ground, Saitama turned around to face the monster. The back of his tattered gi flowed in the wind.
"You the one that beat Genos up?" Saitama asked, monotone.
But the monsterized Bakuzan paid him no mind. His four fists
"Grahhh!"
.
Suiryu looked weakly up to find Bakuzan — half of him, at least — standing lopsidedly, then collapsing down. Dust billowed from the massive body's impact, and sent a harsh wind rushing around the arena. Specks of debris ruffled Suiryu's hair.
In the breeze, he saw a cape — or rather, a vision of one — in front of him.
It was the same bald head that knocked him out.
Saitama turned to look at Suiryu.
He pointed to the large crater left by the side of the stage.
"Did that monster do this?" he asked.
Speechless, all Suiryu could do was shake his head.
"Another one, then," the baldy said, beginning to walk away.
"W-Wait!"
Suiryu grabbed Saitama by the ankle.
The bald hero eyed the martial artist quietly.
"You can't go! You'll die!"
Saitama stepped forward, feeling almost no pull as Suiryu tried to stop him.
"Please!"
Suiryu clawed the ground with his other hand, pulling back with all the strength he had. But the bald man walked away effortlessly.
Saitama made his way to the outside of the arena, stepping through the gaping hole caused by a monster.
.
'I saw Snek and the lightning guy passed out back there,' Saitama thought. 'Did anyone else get hurt while I was away? Did—!'
A punch from behind sent the baldy crashing into the base of a building like a meteor.
Saitama felt the structure above him collapse.
"Hmm."
The building was still… crashing.
Glass shattered above him. He could've sworn a few parked cars had fallen, too. He hadn't seen any people around, thankfully.
"Hm?"
How many floors were there?
The crashing didn't seem to stop. Maybe he'd been punched down into a basement, or something. Or perhaps a few other buildings around him were now crashing down.
Either way, it was a waste of time.
Saitama punched upwards and the rubble imploded.
.
.
"Just you wait, I'll— AAAARGGHHH!"
The esper put her hand down, watching as the last of the creature was turned into dust within the storm.
"Finally…" Tatsumaki breathed.
Lines were visible under her eyes. The tips of her fingers felt numb. She felt a dull throb behind her eyes.
Grasping her head, Tatsumaki floated softly down to the ground, trying to catch her breath.
.
It wasn't a hard battle in the slightest.
Long-winded, yes. Tedious, sure.
But not once had the esper feared for her life. Not once did the horde of monsters even get close to scratching her.
There was no threat. No thrill. No unexpected circumstance that set her on-edge. It was utterly smooth sailing; a textbook defeat for the monsters.
Even still, Tatsumaki felt like she was about to collapse.
It hadn't been an issue just a few days ago. Back when she was hunting monsters left and right in an effort to compete.
Perhaps it was a fluctuating thing. Or perhaps she was getting into her own head as of late. Defending rather than attacking, when there really was no point in doing so.
Tatsumaki shook her head and hovered in the air once more.
The battle was won. The unsettling thoughts were of little consequence now.
She could go back.
.
.
Gouketsu stood, cross-armed, as his opponent sent the ruins of the crashed building into orbit. Two of his four eyes kept track of the rapidly moving debris, making sure a surprise attack from above wasn't possible.
The other two eyes stared expectantly at the cloud of dust in front of him.
And as it settled, the man in the ripped gi revealed himself. His fist was raised in the air. A silent challenge.
Gouketsu knew the moment he saw the bald man that he was different.
"You the one that smacked Genos?" the man asked.
"I've trampled many underfoot."
"A cyborg, about this tall," Saitama raised a hand. "Blond. You smacked him just recently."
"It seems I have."
Saitama narrowed his eyes.
"Why'd you do it?"
Gouketsu unfurled his arms, throwing a piece of mush at Saitama.
"A cyborg would not be able to consume this," the monster said.
Saitama squinted his eyes at the… thing… in front of him. It looked like a giant piece of bacteria. Squiggly and pulsing, the fleshy object looked almost alive.
"A monster cell," Gouketsu explained. "It allows one's latent potential to be brought to the forefront," the monster continued. "Consume it, and you will gain power beyond recognition."
"Hm…"
The monster watched silently as the man inspected the cell. The bald man hadn't taken any damage from his punch. The man effortlessly punted a building into the sky.
If he was to partake of the monster cell, a being of unfathomable power would emerge.
.
"Yeah, no," Saitama said, tossing the cell aside.
The image of his battered disciple flashed in his eyes.
What met Gouketsu's gaze was a simmering blaze. It sent chills down the human part of his soul — whatever was left of it. The monster side of him was kindled alight as well.
Saitama raised a fist.
"Let's get this over with."
.
.
"Y-You…!" Suiryu raised his head, watching as Tatsumaki descended upon the arena. "You're…!"
"Where is he?" the esper asked as soon as she landed. "Where's Saitama?"
"You have to help him…" Suiryu said, tears streaking down his face. He pointed towards the destroyed wall of the arena. "He's…!"
Tatsumaki's stomach dropped.
"Help him, please!"
.
'What am I doing?!' the esper thought, the wind whipping past her face. 'I'm in no state to be doing this. I'll be of no use. A hindrance.'
But it was no use. Her body moved before she could think.
Or rather, it moved despite her thoughts.
Judging from Suiryu's anguished pleas, it seemed that Saitama headed off to face a dangerously strong monster.
Of course, no monster would really be dangerous for Saitama. She knew that. If anyone could be trusted with the world aside from her and Blast, it would be him. It was unquestionable at this point.
So why was she so worried?
.
Her hands had gripped the side of the arena earlier in the day. She'd tapped her feet anxiously as she watched Saitama fight the contestants that she knew were much weaker than him.
And now this.
She won every single battle she faced that day. Not a single monster had landed a decisive blow on her.
And still she was wracked with the thought-stopping, cold fear.
Maybe it was because of how the beat-up martial artist pleaded. Maybe it was because of her dwindling mental state. Her fears, imagination, and expectation compounding into one, formless mass that threatened to pluck her from the sky.
.
Maybe it was because, for one split second, she felt that Saitama would somehow not be able to handle it. And that, in her attempt to aid him, she would die.
A hand on her throat.
No baldy. No air.
.
'SMACK!'
Tatsumaki slapped her cheeks angrily. The sting on her face brought her snapping back to reality.
If it came down to it, what would she do…?
.
Well that was an absolutely stupid question.
She was a hero.
And she had to be there for Saitama.
There was absolutely no world in which she'd be caught running away. There was no chance in hell that she wouldn't fight.
.
The grip on her throat loosened as an explosion rocked the ship behind her.
She was released and fell, dazed, onto the ground. The alien ship listed, and she slid limply down.
She watched as Saitama stepped out of a crater of his creation, smiling like an idiot. He muttered something to himself, taking in the view of the city below. By chance, his gaze landed on her.
'Oi kid, are you—?"
'RAAAGH!'
Boros' barrage cut him off. With a blood-curdling scream, the alien transformed into a blur of impacts, shaking the ground with each strike. Saitama could do nothing but defend.
And then it stopped. A single strike, louder and truer than all the others, made its way through to Boros' chest. He splat blood and was sent hurtling away.
Saitama rushed to meet Boros before he recovered.
The single punch that send the alien flying turned into tens, hundreds.
'Consecutive Normal Punches.'
The alien turned into bloody mist. The nigh-untouchable body that she had tried to destroy with all her might — gone in an instant.
The alien snapped itself together, a gruesome crunch of flesh and blood coalescing, and it roared.
Lightning — plasma — emanated from Boros' body in foreboding waves. The ground liquefied.
'VOOM!'
Before she could react, a bolt of lightning had scorched the ground in front and behind her. She felt the heat of the attack sear her hair and skin.
But she was unharmed.
The baldy had jumped in front of her to block the attack.
.
Tatsumaki took a deep, cold breath as the wind enveloped her.
There was nobody else she'd rather have fighting beside her.
It was ever only him.
.
'BOOM.'
.
The esper witnessed the city rumble. It was as if a child had shaken a diorama model several blocks in diameter.
Buildings rattled like toys. Streets rippled like rivers.
Was that Saitama's pun—
.
'BOOOM!'
.
A small meteor had fallen onto the diorama.
Even the air shook.
That was Saitama's punch.
.
Tatsumaki should have noticed the sound sooner, if not for her utter bewilderment at the sight of the city falling victim to the baldy's whim.
A soft sound of an object displacing air. A sound that grew nearer, nearer…
"Gah!"
Tatsumaki swerved sideways as a giant, decapitated monster's head barreled past her.
.
The esper watched as the head flew along the path she'd just taken. And landed straight into the arena in a spectacular cloud of dust.
Was that the trouble the snot-nosed martial artist had been so worried about?
.
How absurd.
"Heh. Ahah…! Ahahahaha!"
.
.
There were no other monsters to defeat.
The city — wrecked as it was — was safe.
All thanks to other heroes, Saitama presumed. Those that heard, responded to the call, and acted quickly.
Like Tatsumaki. Like Genos.
He watched steam rise slowly from his fist. It was just like the pillars of smoke billowing in the city.
How depressing.
It was the shock that struck him hardest, he thought. The sudden shift from the bright and airy mood into… something else. Something had been shattered in the midst of it all, Saitama thought. Or maybe it had started once he'd let those words out.
'Finding your purpose…'
Perhaps it had been cracked from the beginning.
Saitama eyed the collapsed body of Gouketsu. The monster had died in a single punch. So did the other, four-armed one back in the stadium.
And for what? The damage had already been done. Suiryu almost died. Snek and Lightning Max had almost died. Genos had almost died.
He'd always been like this, hadn't he? Blissfully unaware. So caught up in his own business that, when he arrived, it was almost always too late.
Even then. Even with her.
.
The ship rumbled.
"Is someone fighting?" Saitama muttered aloud, jogging briskly along a hallway to a pair of absolutely humongous doors — the captain's room.
The lights that lined the hallway flickered. Muffled crashing, crumbling structures, and shouts of glee were emanating from behind the doors.
Cool.
'BANG!'
Quickly, the sounds of battle went quiet.
Saitama was close. He could hear the trademark monologue of a villain, right before they struck the final blow. He'd always just beat them before they could finish, tho—
Someone was in danger.
.
Saitama punched the doors open and saved Tatsumaki. He remembered the feeling, clear as day.
.
The bald hero's heart hammered, trying not to think about the impact that came almost as soon as he'd pulled her away.
If he was a split second later than he was…
.
Tatsumaki would have died.
.
'I was late again, huh?' he muttered to himself.
The girl felt weak in his arms. She felt fragile. And small.
He knew that she was anything but, of course. Genos had said that she was the second-ranked hero in the entire Association.
'Nice fight, kid. You can leave the rest to me.'
He had to get his act together.
Better late than never, right?
.
It was funny, really.
As much as he told himself that he was a hero, that he'd go and be better than he was — it never happened.
He was stuck. In a hollow, inescapable routine of his own creation.
'Be better.'
'Do something productive.'
'Make this day yours.'
'Don't piss off the you of tomorrow.'
It was one thing to say all that.
But he hadn't even remembered to say those things in the first place.
.
'I should just give up looking for a good fight.'
.
That wasn't even the problem anymore, was it?
A good fight was the least of his worries.
He was stagnating. Utterly unchanged. The same cluttered line he was from the beginning.
All except for one thing.
The one constant that reminded him of what it really means to be a hero.
'Tats…'
.
Always worried about how she could get back to doing her duty. Always hell-bent on doing the right thing. Always facing her fears. Always looking his way, and reminding him that he wasn't alone.
Tatsumaki was nothing short of amazing.
An intertwined line that kept him going.
A dash of joy that kept his days bright.
It was a little cheesy. A bit much for him to associate her with such vague, overused notions.
She was Tatsumaki.
And that was all he needed for now.
.
It was a wonder that she put up with him for so long.
She always made it known how she thought of him.
'Dummy.'
'Idiot.'
'You suck.'
Somehow, whatever he did, it seemed to always pull on the esper's nerves. Sometimes, though — on rare occasions — he'd do something right.
'You did it.'
'It's all the same to me.'
'Your hugs are tolerable.'
Kind words. Uncharacteristic effort.
And for what?
Nothing.
His presence, sure. But what was there to gain from just that? As much as she inspired him, all he could do was bring her down. Video games, manga, what were all those to someone like her? What did it give to be friends with him?
He hadn't changed. Not in the ways that mattered.
.
Maybe it was better that Tatsumaki didn't come back.
.
She'd never really had a problem going soon. Going ahead. Being herself.
And he didn't have a problem with it, either. At least, not until recently.
It would be fine to go back to how things were, right? To act as if they were strangers.
That way, she could be a hero without worry. Without having to be questioned by everyone. Without being associated with someone like him.
It must have been the openness of his words to Suiryu. It must have been the fact that Genos almost died. Again.
It must have been the compounding dread he felt, not having achieved anything for himself for so long. The fact that he was being much too happy around her — and then her disappearing without a word.
Was it because she hated him?
Saitama groaned.
It was stupid to think like that. It really was.
He thought he'd gotten past the stupid self-loathing a long time ago. He thought it was impossible to be even more confused than he already was.
Saitama shut his eyes.
'Think straight, dammit,' he muttered inwardly, trying to settle the raucous, unwelcome jabber in his mind. 'She's doing hero work. Saving people. She wouldn't be gone for no reason.'
He sat down, taking deep breaths.
'Don't start,' he thought. 'Or it won't stop.'
It was always worse when he was alone.
.
"Saitama?"
.
The bald man gasped sharply.
"T-Tats!"
"What're you doing sitting over ther—"
"You're back…"
Tatsumaki frowned. The tone in his voice was… dangerous. Dangerous for her heart.
"Of course I am," she said tilting her head.
He made no move to go closer.
"Saitama? What's wrong?"
Tatsumaki stepped towards him.
He looked away.
The esper walked closer.
.
Saitama watched the green-haired girl step slowly forward, through the cracks and dust in the ground, in his mind.
'I…'
Feelings of guilt welled up inside.
.
"What a day, huh?"
Tatsumaki breathed out a half-sigh, half-groan, and sat down beside him.
She could tell by now. Something was bothering him. Was it her decision? To tell the world about them?
After a multi-city-wide monster invasion, any news about them would be the least of the civilians' worries.
She should've told him, either way.
Those eyes. Again and again and again. And this time, it was her causing them.
That wouldn't do. Not at all.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "For leaving."
The baldy stiffened and bowed his head low.
"Saitama…! Hey!" she held his shoulder. "Hey…?"
"It's nothing," he said, voice raspy. "You don't have to apologize at all."
"You're…" She didn't understand. "What should I do?"
He shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm all g- I'm all good!"
Saitama stood up, smiling.
"C'mon, we have to—"
Tatsumaki tugged on his shirt. Called his bluff instantly.
She looked a little hurt.
"Ah…" Saitama sat back down.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.
The baldy didn't reply.
"Is it… Did something happen?"
Again, silence.
"Bad?"
No response.
The wind howled through the destroyed city. Dust danced in the air, twinkling in the midday light.
"I see," Tatsumaki said.
'Kinda nostalgic,' she thought quietly. She remembered a moment just like this — with Saitama on the receiving end of her own stubborn silence.
It was about time she had the chance to respond in turn.
Tatsumaki leaned on his shoulder, letting him know she was there.
.
.
"Fubuki was hurt," Tatsumaki broke the silence. "That's why I flew off like that."
"It's not that, Tats…" Saitama replied. "I'm f—"
"Clearly not fine," the esper interjected. "We were on a dat— hanging out! We were hanging out! And I just got up and left you! After taking your wig off on live television! And I left you to those stupid reporters, all by yourself! Of course you'd be mad! Of… Of course you'd be…" The esper caught herself. "I'm sorry, okay? Even if it isn't why you're all mopey right now. I'm really sorry."
"It's fine," Saitama said.
Tatsumaki waited for him to continue.
.
"It's just… this whole hero thing," he muttered finally. "Ugh, this is gonna sound stupid."
"I'm used to stupid," the esper said offhandedly. "I— I mean…!"
The baldy chuckled.
"Well if it's normal for you, then I guess there's no point in being embarrassed now, yeah?"
Tatsumaki covered her face.
"I guess not…"
"Right." Saitama nodded to himself. "Okay."
The esper inched away and turned to face him, ready to listen.
.
A dry breeze picked up, muting the already-quiet sounds of the ruined city.
"I feel like I'm stuck," Saitama said. "Like I've not been doing what I wanted to. Or rather, I've been doing what I wanted to, but it turned into something I don't feel anything about anymore."
"Being a hero?" Tatsumaki asked.
"Yeah. And it's gotten to the point where I don't think I can do my job properly at this point," Saitama said. "I saw Genos just now, Tats. He was wrecked. And I wasn't there to protect him. I saw other heroes and Suiryu all beat up. And I wasn't there, either."
The esper closed her eyes.
"But you saved them, right?"
"Er… barely."
"That's better than nothing," Tatsumaki crossed her arms.
"But—"
"Saitama, listen. We're heroes," the esper leaned forward, frowning. "We can try all we want, but there's no way we can do everything all at once. Take it from me."
"But I haven't changed, Tats!" Saitama said. He gestured to the broken area around him. "I could be doing more! I could have saved them before they got hurt in the first place! If I'd just been paying more attention!"
"And I could've done the same," Tatsumaki said stubbornly. "I didn't bring any receivers or transmitters with me. I got distracted, same as you. It happens."
.
A dim shadow was cast over their conversation. A wispy cloud passed by above them, bringing a cooler breath of wind down onto the street.
"We can't predict the future," Tatsumaki said.
Memories of the past drifted just below the surface.
"I'd much rather keep it that way," the esper continued. "Which means we just have to deal with things as they happen."
"I… If that happened to you again…" Saitama muttered. "I don't know if I could forgive myself."
"Wh…"
The baldy closed his eyes.
.
Tatsumaki was left to ponder that for a moment.
She blinked hesitantly.
.
The esper put a hand on Saitama's shoulder.
"Late… or slow, or— or however else you wanna put it," she said softly. "To me, you… came right on time."
Her eyes met the baldy's. Her heart pounded.
"I-I didn't like being injured and powerless, of course! And your place is cramped as all hell! It was an insufferable week, on average!" Tatsumaki blurted. "But… it was also really… I… I wouldn't have had it any other way."
The esper's face was red.
"I already said it before, but thanks." Tatsumaki took a sharp breath. "And if anyone else you saved — injured or not — isn't grateful to you, they're idiots. Got that?"
The hand she placed on Saitama's shoulder was covered up in his. He nodded.
"I told you not to go sulking like you're alone with your problems," the esper said haughtily. "But look what you've gone and done the moment I'm away."
"Heh… sorry about that."
Tatsumaki got on her feet, pulling her hand away.
"So stand up."
The baldy complied.
.
"All that fighting's got you looking all tattered," she said.
"I could say the same for you."
"Shut up! You look so much worse than me!" The esper crossed her arms and turned away.
Tatsumaki coughed to clear her throat. "All this dust and monster blood doesn't suit you at all," she said. "Aren't you supposed to be invincible and all that?"
"I did beat that thing in one punch," Saitama replied.
"Whatever," she said, glancing at him.
.
"You got something on your face," she said, face red. "Lean down."
"Oh?" Saitama tilted his head. "Sure."
.
He leaned forward at the esper's request.
With a flick of her finger, the muck was removed from Saitama's garments.
.
"Now hold your arms out."
.
Saitama smiled to himself, obeying the esper's request.
The hug that followed was warm. Comforting. All he needed.
.
It was the kiss that caught him completely off-guard.
Soft. Quick. Completely embarrassed. But perfect all the same.
The esper's lips were honey.
.
.
'If you win, I'll kiss you.'
.
.
Ahhhhhh! Finally? FINALLYYYY!
FINALLLYYYYYY! THEY WENT AND DID IT! I'M- ACK-
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Sorry, got a little ahead of myself there. Ehrm. Thank you all so much for reading! A bunch of things happened between chapters. Life stuff, you know? Events, gossip, lectures, a little bit of blood coughing, you know, all those silly little things. But I think I managed to churn this out at a decent pace! I've been reading all your reviews and I'm sorry I couldn't reply to them this time 'round :((( I'll do my best not to make that a habit. I'm so appreciative of every single one of you guys.
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P.S. I couldn't get an April Fools' chapter out in time, so I guess this'll have to do! A 'canon' chapter in April, if that's alright with you all.
P.P.S. Should I have an 'announcements' chapter? And just update that whenever something happens? It kinda makes me feel bad that I just pop in and out of existence sometimes. Let me know!
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Anyways, that's all for now! See you guys next time, have fun, good luck, lean down, all that good stuff!
-bb