"Lean down."
"Oh? Sure."
"Now hold your arms out."
.
Tatsumaki gently wrapped herself over his shoulder.
She felt Saitama's outstretched hands stiffen at her touch. Somehow, he was still surprised despite how many times they'd embraced before. Eventually — and as it always did — the familiar warmth seeped in, slowly melting the baldy's hesitation. Tatsumaki's heart hopped, just once, as she felt him ease into their hug. Gently, his arms closed around her waist.
Tatsumaki let out a breathy sigh, feeling the heat of his cheek against hers. He breathed out in return. Chills rose up the esper's neck.
For a few precious moments, the two stayed in place, still as their breaths could allow. Simply letting their pent-up fears and frustrations bubble up and evaporate. It was warm. So, so warm.
Tatsumaki's heartbeat was unbearably fast. The esper knew Saitama could feel it — every single rise and fall of pressure in her veins. Every little hitch in her breath. Because she could feel his. Slower, but pulsing heavily all the same.
Which made her heart race all the more.
It hadn't even been a day since their last hug, but this one felt different. Right. So, so right.
The esper squeezed him closer, unable, for the moment, to wrest herself from the steady comfort of his arms and body.
.
But after a while, she pulled back.
Around her waist, Saitama's arms loosened just a bit, never completely letting her go. Questioning.
Tatsumaki glanced upward.
His eyes. So completely focused on her. Clear and bright.
The hurt and turmoil she had so loathed had vanished; grains sand, high in the wind. Lovely. Absolutely perfect.
Guiltily, almost subconsciously, her gaze dropped a little lower.
His lips…
.
'THUD!'
Tatsumaki smacked her forehead against the wall. The flushed red in her face had reached up to her ears. The absolute, embarrassed heat, however — it reached everywhere.
"Nnnhh…"
.
It was then, wasn't it? When Saitama came over to visit. When she'd noticed something was wrong.
When her distraught little insufferable mind had given her glimpses of the most vulnerable self she could muster.
.
'Tats, I…' The baldy leaned closer.
And closer.
.
It conjured a scene. Through smoke and mirrors, her mind gave her glimpses of that. An embarrassing, unbearably intimate gesture that the esper had only ever seen in movies and television.
Tatsumaki had never fixated on that kind of thing, of course. Everytime she watched sappy scenes in any form of media, she couldn't help but to scoff.
If a younger Tatsumaki had seen what the current Tatsumaki had pictured in her head, she would have completely lost it.
'What are you even thinking?!'
'Imagining a damn KISS? With that baldy?!'
Even the Tatsumaki a day before all this — the tournament, the hospital — would hardly believe the thoughts she was having at the very moment.
She wanted to kiss him for real.
For real, for real.
Tatsumaki didn't know she was that delusional. She didn't know she was so attached.
Oh, but she was.
Magnetized. Her whole soul was utterly magnetized to the idea of somebody she could actually trust. To the hot, heart-melting reality of it in Saitama.
.
A quarter-hour, the esper took to gather herself.
'Selfish,' she thought. 'Stealing something so heartfelt with that?!'
It seemed almost rude to pull away from a quiet, personal moment with a kiss. So many things were happening that it seemed out of place.
But… her feelings were vivid. Real.
Painfully so.
It would help ease his pain, wouldn't it?
Because it would help ease hers, too.
.
It was something the esper buried inside for quite a while. Those feelings. Her expectations. Her longing.
She'd gotten quite good at that through the years. But it was just a little curious that these feelings in particular seemed harder to hide.
Even still, she made her way about things as usual.
Offering her help to him. Saying her thanks. Being with the baldy as he was for her, no questions asked. No costs required.
She resisted as much as she could. Kept those little, sandy grains of affection from slipping through her fingers. She fought the notions that he felt the same way.
And waited. Watched, then waited. Supported. Then waited again. Each time she felt her patience wear just a little thin.
Where had all the sand gone?
There was a point where it just… vanished. Unnoticed. Not particularly unwelcome. The feelings she held close to her heart, blown out by the wind and into the open. However much it may have weighed on her, it was gone now. She couldn't grasp it again even if she wanted to.
.
Friends. They were just 'dear friends.'
Tatsumaki knew that it was the truth when she said it earlier that day. She knew that it was endearing and close — more intimate than any other relationship she had ever revealed in public. She should have been ecstatic to get the message out into the world, practically jumping for joy at the crowd's positive reaction.
'Friends…'
But it felt wrong.
It was much too final. It was too out of place.
She knew that Saitama felt so, too.
Or was it just her?
It was probably just her.
Inwardly, the esper cursed herself. She cursed her feelings of repulsion to what she'd said.
It was so frustrating that she felt that way.
'Friends.' A lovely word. A comfortable word. Something she would always cherish, despite not knowing exactly when she had let it into her life.
But still.
Friends…
Was that really all they were?
.
'Will you be my girlfriend?'
.
Then the dummy brought it all crashing into perspective.
Her reaction — even if just for a split second — was something completely unexpected.
For whatever reason, her heart jumped.
As soon as she realized it was a joke, however, whatever feelings she harbored immediately rebounded into nervous unsureness.
But the traces of her joy had never fully subsided. Even now, barely hours later, Saitama's little proposal rang in her ears. Her mind. Her heart.
.
Despite it all — or maybe because of it all — Tatsumaki continued forward. Through his victories and through their separation. Through his quiet fears and her vicious anxieties.
In the end, she was there in his arms.
And he was in hers.
.
'Should I…?'
.
She felt his gaze on her. She met him in turn.
Her eyes were steady. Her gaze was full.
Her feelings. Her expectations. Her longing.
She hoped he could tell how she felt.
She hoped he would accept her.
.
'I shouldn't…' she thought.
One last, desperate attempt by her mind at keeping things how they were. At keeping the comfort she knew he would bring, no matter what they were or would be.
'I really shouldn't.'
.
But her heart said otherwise.
.
Tatsumaki pressed her lips to his.
.
"Mmh…"
Her fingers made their way to the back of Saitama's neck.
She felt his hands instinctively pull her close, and her heart leapt.
His lips were a little dry.
She couldn't blame him. She couldn't care less.
It had been a long day, after all. For both of them.
They had met up, split apart, then come back together again — it was unfair how much she missed him after such a short time apart.
She made it known with her mouth.
.
.
A moment was all it lasted.
Tatsumaki pulled away slowly, almost hesitantly, and this time Saitama loosened his hold enough for her to step backward. His arms hung in the air expectantly. But only for a moment.
The esper blinked, putting a hand to her face.
Her lips felt suddenly cold. Empty.
"Th-That's for winning!" she barely managed to say, face flush with color. "Y-Y-You won the tournament! C-C-Congratulations!"
Her voice shook, as if the figurative coldness had somehow reached into her bones. Shivering and stumbling.
It was the baldy's turn to blink. The esper could see, plain on his face, a look of surprise. Eyes wide. Lips just slightly open, as if molded by hers. He looked speechless. He looked out of breath.
.
"Th-Thanks," Saitama whispered after a while.
Tatsumaki nodded vigorously. "No prob! A-Anytime!"
The esper winced at herself.
'Anytime? ANYTIME?'
Unable to take an out — unable to even open her mouth in fear of making the situation worse, Tatsumaki prayed that he simply wouldn't think too much into it.
And thank the heavens, it seemed he didn't get it at all. The bald man was frozen in the same spot, just staring out into nowhere.
Of course he was shocked, Tatsumaki didn't blame him. She could hardly believe what she'd done, either.
She just kissed him.
.
And that brought her heart back into a tizzy.
.
The esper turned away, her hands on her face.
It wasn't even a playful kiss, either. Not a peck on the forehead or on the cheek, no no no. She skipped all of that innocent stuff that people supposedly did to test the waters. She leapt straight over gestures to show interest without appearing too desperate.
She just went right for it like a doe-eyed puppy whose owner had just come home.
It was embarrassing how right it felt.
.
Tatsumaki glanced at Saitama. Again. He was expressionless. There wasn't a hint of whether or not he was overwhelmed with excitement.
Or fear.
Maybe she was just projecting. She was truly scared about his response, after all. Tatsumaki had no point of reference whether the way Saitama treated her was any different from how he treated others. He was undoubtedly the kindest person she knew. And she knew he was kind to a lot of others, too.
It wasn't a kindness exclusive to her, as far as she knew. And that was part of what made him so charming in the first place.
What a mess.
He didn't not like the kiss, right? She hadn't just carelessly stamped over their comfortable relationship… right?
The esper groaned softly.
She knew he liked her. She wasn't that stupid. Just… how much he did was still very much up in the air.
And Tatsumaki very much did not want to think about it.
.
"A-Are you," the esper shook her head. "Ehrm. We should, uhm…"
What should she even say?
"C-Come over to my place," she blurted.
Wow. Perfect. Good one, Tatsumaki.
Saitama's eyes widened at that, and before he could respond, the esper threw her hands forward, gesturing that he got it all wrong.
"No! No, no no no! It's—"
'It's not what you think!' is what she wanted to say. But…
What would he even be thinking about?
Well, for starters… she just kissed him. And now she was suddenly inviting him back to her place. That obviously suggested—
'No.'
Before the esper had the chance to make sense of those thoughts — she took a simple glance around to remind herself that now was not the time.
Dark smoke billowed. Black columns that acted as signal flares to the destruction that had been brought about by creatures that seemed to be plotting something even more ominous.
Buildings were reduced to dust. Car alarms echoed hauntingly in the distance.
"There are more monsters on the move," she said, measuring her feelings carefully. "And I'm not gonna be caught dead without a transmitter."
And as for the excuse…
"We can get one for both of us from one of the lobbies — if they aren't in full panic mode," she said. "So come with me to my place, okay?"
After a long, long pause, Saitama nodded.
Tatsumaki brushed her dress down and returned the baldy's affirming gesture. With a deep breath, the esper floated up.
.
"…I hope you're feeling better now," she spoke softly, facing away from the baldy.
"Yeah. I am," he bowed his head. "Thanks, Tats."
"Good," the esper said, biting her lip. "Good…"
.
The esper flew along, watching Saitama the whole way through — that is, until he caught her staring, in which case she found an utter, all-encompassing interest in the clouds.
The sky was quite sky-like today, yes indeed.
Tatsumaki wondered why she wanted him to tag along.
Of course, there was the obvious reason. Her lips still tingled at the thought of anoth—
Aside from the obvious, there was something else tugging at her.
She couldn't quite place the feeling. The comfort she felt in him, that is. It was… new. Sort of.
She thoroughly enjoyed spending time with him. Talking, confiding and being confided in. As well as watching him fight. It was almost surreal to see someone without powers like hers just vaporizing monsters — threats way beyond anyone's paygrade — like it was nothing.
But there was another sort of tranquility she had experienced around him, which she was still trying to place. The recent events brought it bubbling up from her subconscious, and she had come to realize that it was a comfort she had known long before they'd met. Now that was strange. At that time in her life, comforts were few and far between.
So what was it?
The rushing wind accompanied her thoughts like waves crashing on the shore, leaving her mind bobbing in and out of focus. Trying to remember.
.
.
"Miss Tornad—!"
"I know, I know." Saitama watched as the esper waved her hand dismissively at the man at the desk. "Tell us where any attacks are when we're on our way out. And have two transmitters ready. The good ones — you know what I'm talking about. You have twent— no, fifteen minutes."
"Yes ma'am!" the receptionist affirmed, hurrying off.
"C'mon," Tatsumaki tilted her head at Saitama.
"Yep," he replied.
.
The esper was noticeably silent as she flew through the halls. Probably due to a lack of conversation on his part. But she'd have to forgive him for that.
Saitama still didn't know what to say. It was like trying to grasp at the air. Where would he even start? What could he possibly blurt out to fill the silence without jarring Tatsumaki?
Perhaps it was a little bit of a fault that he couldn't stop thinking about her — making anything he had to say immediately and inherently awkward.
And about that line…
.
'If you win, I'll kiss you.'
.
She had proven to be true to her word. Yet it utterly baffled him.
Not in a bad way, of course. Not a soul in the world would admit an aversion to that. Not in that situation. Not with those feelings.
But Saitama felt that it was inconceivable nonetheless.
.
Maybe he should take it at face value? Tatsumaki was simply keeping her word. Teasing him back for his idiotic proposal.
But that really wasn't it. He was sure of it.
Tatsumaki had always been blunt. Someone who wore their feelings on their sleeve, and said the first thing that came to mind — no matter what other people might think. As much as she tried to be subtle or keep her opinions to herself, Saitama knew it was like swimming up a waterfall. Nearly impossible.
.
So.
For her to kiss him…
.
That was the most straightforward way of expressing affection to someone, wasn't it? It was undeniable. Set in stone.
If Tatsumaki had just been teasing him back, it would have shown in her actions afterward. A jab in the shoulder, maybe. Sticking out her tongue. A 'gotcha!' while smiling. The perfect return, and she'd let it be known to him how cunning that revenge was.
He would've been fine with that. He kinda deserved it, after all.
In fact, he might have preferred that over what really had happened.
.
Tatsumaki pulled away, looking at him with eyes of complete adoration. Lips slightly parted, as if she hadn't had her fill. And if that wasn't enough to seal the deal—
.
'Th-Thanks.'
'No prob! A-Anytime!'
.
He could barely think after she let that slip. He could barely think up until the present — not a word could properly slip from his mouth the whole way back to the esper's apartment.
.
But now was not the time to fumble about. It was the time to think. Pause for a moment. Make sense of it all.
A la Tatsumaki putting things together, and a la Tatsumaki putting things together bluntly, he concluded that, since she kissed him, she liked him.
Liked him.
Liked him.
It was something Saitama had a hard time wrapping his head around.
.
"You just gonna stare or what?" Tatsumaki breathed.
Saitama blinked. They had reached the apartment. The esper was holding the door open.
"A-Ah. Sorry."
He stepped inside, trying to shake the thoughts out of his head.
"Wait here," Tatsumaki said, pointing to the chairs by the dining table. "I'm gonna change out of this stupid dress."
"Change…" Saitama muttered, still dazed. "Change?"
"I— huh? Did you want me to keep wearing this, or something?" Tatsumaki asked. Both were unaware of her expectant tone.
"I don't think you'd like fighting in that, though…" Saitama said, gaze wandering off into the distance. "Do whatever you want? I dunno."
"Hm."
The door to the esper's room closed with a soft 'click.'
.
The baldy looked around the space.
The remains of their little wrestling match the day before were still there — the absence of the living room table, the legs on the sofa clearly gone, the holes in the wall from all the utensils — though it was clear that things had been cleaned up a little.
It really had just been a day, hadn't it? Since they'd woken up together (accidentally), since they visited a hospital together. And it was only a few hours ago that they competed in a martial arts tournament, revealed their relationship — dear friends, or whatever that was — to the public…
It was barely an hour ago that they kissed.
Saitama groaned.
The scene played in his head, again and again and again.
They were supposed to be getting prepared for battle, dammit!
But his mind forbade him from straying away from thoughts of the esper.
Her eyes. A perfectly-cut emerald gem.
Her arms. Warm, like a blanket on a cold day.
Her lips. Small, and as he'd learned just recently, incredibly soft.
.
'If you win, I'll kiss you.'
.
'Lean down.'
.
'Now hold your arms out.'
.
Not thinking about it was impossible.
Which was tragic for someone who could barely think at the moment.
They were the only thoughts that filled his mind.
.
.
Tatsumaki leaned against her bedroom door, hands to her face.
She knew. She knew.
There was a threat they had to face. Monsters to kill, heroes to assist. There was no time to waste.
But she wasn't calming down.
Why did she even bring him back here?!
They were better off splitting up — with Saitama already on the battlefield, hunting monsters down as she prepared and got the transmitters for both of them.
But she seriously couldn't stay away from him for even a moment, huh?
She couldn't have given herself a moment of respite to gather her thoughts, huh?
No, no, no, no, no, no.
She just had to ask him to come — his clothes in tatters, mind you — to distract her all the more.
Whatever.
She needed to cut her losses and deal with it like a well-adjusted adult.
.
By hiding behind her closet door as she changed, afraid that he'd barge in, find her in a compromising position, and… distract the both of them.
The esper had never gotten dressed quite so slowly.
.
.
'Maybe I'm just stupid.'
Saitama had been told as much often enough. And it wasn't like his scores in any recent examinations concluded otherwise.
But he had received not a single dollop, a single mite of a clue about how much of the esper's favor he actually had.
Some people, he knew, just tended to be nicer, more outgoing, more friendly than others. Or opened up easily once they made friends with someone. But that wasn't the case with Tatsumaki. As far as he could tell, she was prickly with just about anybody — her sister included.
She wasn't just being nice to him, was she?
She wasn't just acting how a 'best friend' would act.
She wasn't just doting on him, worrying about him for no reason.
The esper was standoffish by nature. A side-effect of being blunt, he supposed. Confrontational and closed-off was how he saw her whenever she talked to anyone. That is, save for the exception of her sister.
And him.
.
Her soft smiles. Her fleeting gazes. Her warm hugs.
She liked him.
She'd liked him for… a while… if the hugs were of any indication. And he had absolutely no clue until she kissed him — hell, he didn't really come to terms with it until she'd invited him back to her place and given him time to think.
Yeah.
He was absolutely, positively stupid.
.
Incompetent as he was, why did she even like him in the first place?
It wasn't like he treated her any differently than anyone else, right? He supposed that was how people would get a hint. He wasn't even sure if he was capable of giving hints like that.
But maybe it was worth looking into.
He did talk with her a lot. But he provided barely passable conversation on the best of days.
He found her company fun, and he showed his enjoyment while they were together. But he didn't quite get to show the true extent of those feelings, what with his stunted ability to enjoy things as of the past couple of years.
He lent her some of his things? Admittedly, that was unusual. But it felt right. The esper never asked. Which made it all the more endearing to see her reactions to gifts out of nowhere.
He came to visit her? That was… honestly new. Saitama never really felt the urge to go out of his way like that before — not outside of hero work.
All these excuses… all the probing of his own actions to see whether she would wrongly interpret his actions as affection. It almost seemed like he was looking for reasons to deny her feelings. And his own.
It wasn't like he didn't like her. He did. Definitely.
To him, Tatsumaki was… a lot of things.
Saitama had been around her long enough to discover those things one by one.
The esper was determined, that was for sure. Whatever she set her mind on — whether that be to help him make breakfast while injured, to be protective of her sister, or even to visit a hot spring to pour her anger out on a person or two — it was gonna be done. Some people may consider it stubborn, but he found that whenever she was headstrong, it was for good reason. It was refreshing to see someone not second-guess themselves. Moved in clear, straight lines.
Tatsumaki was confident in speaking and acting — even in front of others. She paid attention to things when needed, but didn't lose sight of the big picture either. Handling matters like her injuries with the media and the Association, explaining what she did and didn't like about manga and T.V. shows, or even when relaying instructions while racing with him — all succinct, all precise.
The esper was kind, in her own way. She always took time to consider his feelings. Which was odd, since he was sure he'd long since lost them. Tatsumaki deftly saw past that charade, it seemed. She acted upon her observations with ease. She knew whatever to say or do to help him continue forward.
Through it all, Tatsumaki inspired him to be better. He was almost positive he had actually become better, too.
And… if spending time with her wasn't enough to hammer it into Saitama's head — Tatsumaki was really pretty. Ethereally so, like a doll brought to life. Or like the models he'd seen on T.V. — save for the fact that Tatsumaki was, somehow, in even better shape.
Saitama, being someone whose respect was largely found in the way a person took care of themselves, the esper's figure was… well, he approved. More than he'd like to admit.
And it didn't help that Tatsumaki's choice in fashion exacerbated those physical traits of hers. It made her impossible to ignore.
Saitama sighed.
But it had been easy, he noted. Whatever happened to that nonchalant Saitama that barely batted an eye at a bandaged Tatsumaki needing a change of clothes? Or the one that could still think rationally after waking up under her? He missed those days. Er, yesterday.
The esper truly might've done something to him when she wore that qipao to the tourney. After getting used to the dark tones of her hero outfit — which drew attention to her bright green hair and eyes — seeing her in white and gold? It was like a bomb. It was overwhelming.
Saitama found it almost embarrassing to be seen around someone like her even without her status. It was like a goblin put beside an elf.
But then taking into the fact that she was an S-Class? The active trump card of the Hero Association? Someone everyone respected and wanted to be respected by?
The elf was a princess.
And what was he? An A-Class with no name. An accused cheater and fraud.
The goblin was a flat-broke rogue. A bald one, to boot.
It was such a contrast. Their relationship almost felt as fictional as the scenario he made up in his head.
But…
As much as he would like to believe otherwise, as much as fantastical settings and ruminating did for his disbelief, all evidence pointed to a single, all-encompassing fact: she liked him.
Liked him.
Liked him.
And he liked her too.
It was just… how much he actually did was surprising.
.
Tatsumaki opened the door to her bedroom, snapping the baldy out of his stupor.
She was dressed in her hero outfit, shifting anxiously on her toes.
"Let's go," she said quietly.
Saitama stared at her. The esper tilted her head.
"You got buns," he said eventually.
The esper did a double take.
"Exc— I got— huh?"
"Er, hair! Your hair. I meant."
"Ah…!" The esper unfurled her curly locks instantly. "O-Of course," she muttered, wincing inwardly. "My… buns…"
"Yep. Are… we still on sched'?"
"Uh, barely. We should go."
"Lead the way?"
The esper briskly nodded, floating up in the air.
.
Saitama stared straight up at the ceiling as he ran down the halls.
Tatsumaki's hero outfit — the one he'd just concluded drew his eyes away from her form…
She must've had it altered somehow.
Because there was no way he had missed the fact that her skirt was barely even there. Four flaps of fabric flowing freely in the wake of the esper's flight. Leaving wide gaps that were filled quite well by her slender le—
Er, nothing. He wasn't looking. Not in the slightest.
Seeing her exit her bedroom was more than enough.
Blurting about her 'buns' was an unfortunate slip of the tongue — he was only by the fact that the esper had decided to wear her hair differently that morning, and to forget to undo it as she left her room. Miraculous, to say the least. It probably cost him around a year's worth of luck.
And he thanked the heavens for it. Nothing would ever get that secret out of him.
"Ah!"
The baldy barely dodged a wall as it came into his field of view.
"You good, Sai?" Tatsumaki whipped around, still flying — but now backwards. She looked at him intently as he skidded to a halt.
"Yuh— yes, yeah," the baldy replied. "I'm— Tats! Wall!"
"Hm—? Oof!"
Saitama cushioned the impact with his body.
"I… uh!" the esper pulled herself from Saitama's bare torso — the thing that had distracted her in the first place.
"Kinda out of it too, huh?" Saitama said.
"There's been… a lot to think about, recently…" she said, pulling her hair down to cover her face.
"Oh?"
"Are you," The esper's voice was soft. She placed a finger on her lips. "Thinking about things, too?"
"Oh." The baldy's eyes widened. "I…"
"A-Actually! Don't answer that!" She looked to the side, then shook her head.
"We have things to do." Her tone was delicate. A word from Saitama would shatter it. An answer to her question. A yes. A no.
The baldy paused, thoughtful.
"Gotcha."
He decided not to disturb the glassy barrier that stood between them and… something. To keep the teetering balance that they'd somehow stumbled upon in the midst of all of this.
Comfortable. Close.
But not too close.
.
For now.
.
.
'What in the world is going on?'
Child Emperor felt the lollipop crack between his teeth.
He turned to the large screens in front of him which, minutes ago, had been flashing with red dots — monster reports based on sightings and camera data.
The scanners were barren now. Barely a half dozen signatures left. And zero reports of defeated monsters. That could only mean…
The monsters retreated. All together. All at once.
The young hero scratched his head.
The Association had always been compiling data on monster movements. For the past several months, analysts had noticed a significant uptrend in both monsters' strength and frequency. They were all hard at work trying to identify a source. Come up with an answer for the question clearly being asked.
There wasn't a soul that suspected this. A sudden, coordinated attack. A coordinated retreat.
It muddied their research.
Was this the source of the mysterious beings?
Or was the coalescing of monsters a result of something more sinister? A side-effect; something that would have happened either way?
As much as Child Emperor wanted to consider things more deeply, there was no time to hypothesize. This new group of monsters was now the direct priority.
But at the same time, they were gone.
"Grh!"
The lollipop shattered into powder.
It didn't help that he'd participated in the fight today. A waste of time. Y-City — the area he had battled in — was a fair distance away, and he had to request an Association pickup in order to quickly relay information to the higher-ups, in addition to procuring materials to repair his items and robots.
'Mr. Pig God was able to handle it all on his own, anyway,' Child Emperor thought resentfully. He had been virtually useless in the fight with the medusa-looking monster. He was better off shelling up in his lab.
Waste of time aside, he had burdened the Association with a waste of resources, too — a rescue helicopter for an S-Class? How embarrassing. Not to mention, all of his requests were sapping a collection that was already wearing thin. If the mysterious monster group decided to attack anytime soon — and more incidents like this occurred — the whole Association would be hard-pressed to defend.
He eyed the emergency alarm system at the far corner of the room. It was silent. For now.
'I'll have to find where they're hiding as soon as poss—'
The door to the room slid open with a mechanical whir. The young hero jumped.
"Child Emperor!" an Association worker called. He looked annoying to deal with.
"What?" he asked, grimacing. "What is it?"
"Miss Tornado is asking for two transmitter devices. 'Good' ones," the man said, making quote gestures with his hands.
The young hero rolled his eyes. "Don't we all have emergency transmitters? I don't have the time."
"She seemed agitated. And in a hurry," the man said. "You had announced that you had made prototypes for an improved communication device a few weeks ago."
"Those prototypes aren't even…" Child Emperor groaned.
As much as he prided himself in his position and status, there were a select few people that were ranked higher than him. Heroes he didn't want on his bad side.
The Tornado of Terror was at the top of his list.
It didn't escape his attention that she had remembered his announcement, too.
It was, all things considered, flattering.
"Fine," the boy relented. "Fine, fine."
He hopped down from his seat, grabbed some items from his desk, and put his backpack on.
"I'll go."
The worker raised an eyebrow.
"You don't need to—"
"The transmitters aren't ready," Child Emperor said. "I don't suppose you want to explain that to her, yeah?"
The Association worker stood silent.
"That's what I thought," the young hero nodded, stepping out of the door. "And besides, I can probably whip something up on the way to wherever any stragglers are."
"You'll be going with Miss Tatsumaki?"
"Yep," the boy said, stretching his arms. Agitated as he was here, an easy battle would do well to clear his head. "Time to be of use for once."
.
.
"Fifteen minutes is almost up," Tatsumaki muttered, sitting on one of the lobby sofas. Her eyes were locked onto the clock that hung above the empty receptionist's desk. It made clicks in the silence that followed, as if in agreement.
"We could use news reports to find more monsters," Saitama suggested, sitting beside her.
The esper shook her head. "They're organized."
"What?"
"The monsters…" she said, voice growing soft. "I talked to one of them. They've formed a faction. Big enough to attack multiple cities at once."
Saitama's eyes widened.
"If we don't handle this quickly," the esper continued. "Things'll turn out really, really bad. That's why we need to be organized, too."
Now was the time to communicate. To receive real-time instructions, loathe as she was to admit, from those at the Association who were actually capable of giving proper orders… it was the best course of action to take.
"You think this has anything to do with the heroes at the hospital?" Saitama muttered gravely.
The esper raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I… you mean the Hero Hunter?"
"Human Monster," the bald hero suggested. "Some people called him that, right?"
What role was he playing in all this?
The question hung, unmoving, in the space around them.
"Hmm…"
A heavy air settled in the lobby. It seemed their bout of giddiness, their heat-haze of attraction, had been put on hold. There was a time and place for that.
Tatsumaki glanced sidelong at Saitama, blinking slowly.
She leaned on him quietly.
"Let's… talk… after this, okay?"
The bald hero nodded.
What 'after' meant, the two were completely unsure. It was a breezy promise made into the wind. But it was a breeze nonetheless — one that helped cool the tension. A much-needed assurance, as delicate as that assurance may be.
And so the room was plunged into silence.
The ticking clock seemed to mock them now.
.
"Miss Tatsumaki! About the transmitters!"
The two turned their attention to a clear voice echoing from down the hall. Child Emperor jogged into the lobby, holding his hand up.
"The prototypes are almost finished," the young hero said, pulling out small devices from his pocket. "But for the moment, I can personally locat— oh, who's this?"
"Hi." Saitama raised his hand.
The young hero looked at him.
"You… ah! You're the one from the meeting? And the hot spring…" Child Emperor said, putting the devices back into his pocket. "Saitama, was it?"
"Whoa… yeah." The bald hero's eyes widened. "Yeah, that's me."
The boy went up to shake his hand. "Child Emperor, fifth-ranking S-Class. You must've been fighting monsters — the both of you. Thanks for your hard work."
"Oh, thanks," the baldy said, standing up to return the boy's gesture.
"No celebratory drinks for you though, okay?" the boy said, shaking his hand. Perfectly passive-aggressive.
It seemed he still remembered the whole debacle at the hot spring.
"Yep… not drinking again…" the bald man sighed.
"Good!" the boy seemed to turn immediately chipper once more.
Saitama was taken aback at Child Emperor's straightforwardness. He didn't usually like talking to children — they usually ended up making fun of him one way or another — but the young hero was an exception. The way he carried himself was befitting of his rank.
Child Emperor glanced at Tatsumaki. Then to Saitama. Then back again.
The prodigy S-Class took note of Saitama, who was also dividing his attention between the esper and the young hero himself
He definitely took note of Tatsumaki, whose gaze wasn't switching at all. Instead, it was set intently on Saitama.
"So… are you two dating?"
The pair snapped their eyes to him, wide with disbelief.
"Wh— Now's not the time for that, brat!" Tatsumaki lunged forward in her seat.
"Whoa! Tats!" Saitama stepped in front of the esper, blocking the mortified young hero from her wrath. "Tats?"
The esper crossed her arms and huffed, slowly sliding back into her seat.
"She… she's completely right… My apologies," the boy stammered, coughing. He made no move to step away from Saitama. "There really are more pressing matters to attend to. I'm sorry."
The esper scoffed.
"Let's just continue from a while ago, shall we?" the young hero suggested weakly. "I'll be able to accompany you to the remaining problem areas, as well as to communicate with the Association in the case any updates turn up, if that's fine with you."
"What's wrong with the gizmos I asked for?"
"Just a few final calibrations and syncing," the boy said readily. "If you don't want me to accompany you two, I can simply give the locations of the monsters in real-time. Although you would need to wear this."
From his backpack, he brought out what looked like a brown motorcycle helmet with animal ears and a smiling snout graphic printed below the visor.
"I can communicate with you through this; Bear Buddy," the boy said proudly. "You can also see necessary information on the screen without my assistance!"
"Yeah, no," Tatsumaki said. "Are you sure the transmitters don't work?"
"Positive," Child Emperor replied. "I can fiddle around with the devices as we go, though. I'm sure I can get them done before we even fight."
"Mrgh," Tatsumaki said. "What's with this 'we' business…?"
"Pardon me?"
"Whatever." The esper stood up. "Fine. C'mon."
Tatsumaki flew off.
Saitama glanced at Child Emperor.
The boy wiped his brow, then followed after the esper.
'Poor kid.'
.
"Whoa. Mr. Saitama, you're pretty fast!"
"Oh, thanks. I've been working out. Did you make those yourself?"
"Mhm!"
Saitama jogged through the ruins of A-City alongside Child Emperor, who had used his backpack's flight mode to cruise speedily. Helicopter-like blades propelled him forward.
"You're an A-Class now, right?" the young hero asked, muffled by his Bear Buddy helmet. "You're climbing up the ranks really fast."
"Yep. Though I'm not really sure what the difference is between any of them."
"It's more of a status thing," Child Emperor said. "So long as you save people, you're doing just as well as us S-Class heroes. Though it seems you're already on your way up here, yeah?"
"Hope so," Saitama said. "Everyone I know is already up there."
"Really? Who's everyone you know?"
"Genos, Bang… the zombie dude? Oh! And Tats."
"You gave Miss Tatsumaki a nickname."
"Yep. But she doesn't really like being called that, I think."
"That's fine. I wasn't planning on using it," the boy waved his hand. "But, whoa. You're friends with all of them?"
"A few I'm closer to than others," the baldy shrugged.
Child Emperor puffed his cheeks.
"That's cool," he said, pouting. "How'd you meet so many heroes?"
The baldy tilted his head, thinking harder than usual. "I met Genos while trying to kill a mosquito. I met Bang while trying to destroy a meteor. I met the zombie dude—"
"Mr. Zombieman."
"Right, right. I met him at the hot spring?"
"And you made friends with him even after you stabbed him?"
"Ah, yeah," the baldy winced. He had gotten a pretty bad rep with the S-Class he didn't know, it seemed. "It was really dumb of me, but he said it was fine."
"You're lucky he's a cool guy," Child Emperor said, nodding to himself. "I wouldn't put it against him to forgive you."
"He's definitely interesting," Saitama said. "I'm glad he did."
"How about Miss Tatsumaki?" The boy changed the topic without skipping a beat. "How'd you two meet?"
"I met her when…" the baldy paused. "Well, I met her properly a bit after that meeting with all the S-Class and the invasion."
"Not before it?"
"I don't think so," Saitama shook his head. "Why?"
"You two seem really close. I would've thought you two were childhood friends or something."
"Ah, is that so…?" Saitama scratched the back of his head. He wasn't sure whether to be flattered or shocked. "No, no. Tats and I met recently, I'd say. And we didn't really like each other all that much in the beginning."
"Huh?" the boy raised an eyebrow.
"It's true. We'd argue about everything. She'd shout a bunch and get mad."
"Seems about right," the boy muttered. "Don't tell Miss Tatsumaki, but everyone finds her kinda prickly."
Saitama chuckled.
"Heh…" Child Emperor tried to smile, but hung his head. "I was kind of trying to get on her good side for once by volunteering to help out here, but I already messed up back in the lobby."
"Don't worry about it," the baldy replied. "It took a while to get to know her. But Tats doesn't really stay mad for too long."
"Are you kidding? That's because you two are friends," the boy said. "Everyone else doesn't have it as easy. Trust me. She probably hates me now."
"Seems like a stretch," Saitama said.
"I'd love to be proven wrong," Child Emperor sighed. "Maybe… hmm. Hypothetically, how someone go about stopping Miss Tatsumaki from being mad?"
"Maybe bribe her with food or something? I can't really think of a surefire way to calm her down." Saitama put a finger to his chin. "But honestly, if you apologize properly, she'll end up forgiving you for sure. Eventually, at least."
The young hero looked dumbfounded.
"Are we talking about the same person here, Mr. Saitama?"
"Tats can be pretty sweet at times," Saitama asserted.
Child Emperor nodded, pretending to be convinced.
It was highly unusual, even for people Tatsumaki was on decent terms with, to act like how she seemed to act around Saitama. He suspected that any of the esper's friends would still end up having a hard time getting her to settle down or 'be pretty sweet,' as the baldy put it.
Speaking of that…
"Mr. Saitama, what do you mean by 'sweet,' exactly? How's she sweet to you?"
"Uh, a lot of ways actually. Tats is pretty touchy. She leans on me a bunch. And is fine with hugs," the baldy mulled, pulling thoughts off the top of his head. "Sometimes she turns off her powers to walk around with me — if we're not in a hurry, at least. And even if she disagrees with me a lot, she always pays attention to what I talk about. She goes out of her way to visit me, and she lets me come over to her place, too."
"I see…"
"Yeah. That's pretty much it." The baldy paused, surprised at himself. It wasn't very often that he had a wordy answer to a question, but getting to talk about the esper to someone else seemed almost therapeutic.
"I don't know how to put it to you," Child Emperor said. "But that's not how Miss Tatsumaki acts around anyone in the Association."
"Oh?"
"I feel like I'm being tricked here," the boy sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Either you're just making this up, or you two are friends friends. And you met just a little over a month ago?"
"Yeah?"
Child Emperor leaned over to him and pulled up his helmet's visor, talking just barely over the whir of the blades. "If you aren't dating — which I still highly doubt — I think she would do well to have you around all the time."
The baldy blinked. "I—"
Tatsumaki appeared in between the two.
"Aren't you supposed to be making those transmitters?" she said, monotone.
"Ehm…" the boy looked sheepishly away, putting his helmet's screen back on. He flew a fair bit forward. "Yep… on it."
"And you," the esper whispered, turning to Saitama.
"Uh, yeah?"
"Don't go around saying all that stuff about me!" she hissed.
"Why not?"
"I have a reputation to maintain here, Sai," she said frantically. "Not everyone needs to know that I…!"
"That what?"
"That… I'm…"
"That you're actually nice?"
"Yes!" The esper clicked her tongue. "But not just that!"
"What do you mean?"
The esper scratched her head irritably.
Tatsumaki didn't know how to explain how embarrassing she found their conversation.
Overhearing the boy and the baldy talk about how she acted around Saitama was mortifying. Being touchy… walking beside Saitama without using her powers… had she really been doing all that?
"Ugh! The 'sweet' stuff! I… just don't! Okay?!"
She didn't think she could handle realizing just how differently she acted with Saitama around.
"I think it's cute," the baldy said. "You should let other people get to know you better."
"I'm not interested," Tatsumaki said, flying closer. The esper's shoulder bumped into him softly. "One person is enough for me."
Saitama whipped his head to her, staring as she flew ahead of him. His mouth was agape, but no words were able to escape.
.
.
"Where are we going, by the way?" Saitama called.
"S-City." Child Emperor put his tools in his pocket — the transmitters were nearly done. The boy pressed the left ear of his helmet and the visor lit up. "My sensors seem to be detecting some signatures… faint signatures… all around the place. It's a little disconcerting."
"Do we need to hurry?"
The boy pressed the helmet's right ear.
"No radio reports of attacks," he said. "But it's better to be sure. We should speed up."
"'Kay."
The baldy jogged faster.
"You're not getting tired?" the young hero asked.
"Nope."
Child Emperor looked at him with a glint in his eye. "You're just like Mr. Flashy, running around effortlessly like that. No wonder you've been climbing the ranks."
"Oh. Thanks."
"No prob," the boy said, drifting ahead. He busied himself with the devices once more.
.
After a few moments, Tatsumaki flew in, sending a small trail of dust as she drew closer to the ground.
Saitama glanced her way, expecting her to say something.
He was met with a neutral stare.
"Tats?"
.
The esper considered answering Saitama.
Her feelings were being pulled every which way. Stretched, twisted. Wearing thin.
The rotten thoughts that had been shoved to the back of her mind had begun to claw, screeching, back into her conscious self. It was all she could do to keep it from consuming her.
Another impending fight. More monsters to kill. More unknowns to rush toward.
It wasn't like she was scared, not quite. Saitama was there after all. And she wasn't weak. She refused to be.
But there was an odd feeling in the air. A tremor in the green glow surrounding her. Tatsumaki's aura rattled roughly.
It didn't puzzle her that it was happening. After all, she knew why.
And she absolutely hated it.
.
Focus was a necessity to an esper. An ironclad rule, directly proportional link to psychic output. It was one of the very first lessons Tatsumaki had learned, and one she had performed effortlessly ever since.
A clear mind. A direction for her powers to follow. The amount of momentum to place into each twist and turn. Compensating for the strength of infrastructure so as to keep damages to a minimum — if she cared enough to do so — as well as not to exceed the power output that her body could safely withstand, were all things she had made second nature through the years.
As of late, however, she had noticed something.
A buzzing in her powers.
How silly, right?
Of course, she had tried to deny her lack of focus for as long as she could. It was impossible. Unthinkable. Unacceptable. Her?! Lose control of the powers she so surgically wielded for as long as she could remember?
The threats she faced did well for her convictions — despite simultaneously fraying her nerves. It just proved to her that, at the very least, her focus hadn't diminished enough to matter.
Negligible as it was — after all, it took barely a thought to fight even Dragon-level threats — it had come to Tatsumaki's attention that her focus was definitely not as perfect as it used to be. If she could put it into numbers, she felt to be at 80 percent in-control of her powers while in battle. A whole fifth off of her standard, which was obviously absolute perfection.
And now, the buzz, the tremor, the rattling of her powers as she flew…
70 percent, maybe? Likely lower.
She felt her focus slipping. And she wasn't even fighting anything!
"Grh…"
Again, she had an inkling as to why. It really wasn't a puzzle.
.
"Tats?"
.
Her practiced, perfect attention. The clarity of her mind. All but gone.
Replaced with thoughts of him.
"Yes?" she answered softly.
It wasn't something she could possibly ignore.
"Are you okay? You look kinda too focused."
"I've been better," she said dryly.
"Is it… a while ago?" he asked, hesitant.
The esper stole a glance at the baldy, eyes tracing his face. His frowning lips.
"N-No!" she shook her head. "I told you we wouldn't talk about it. We agreed."
Saitama shook his head. "If something's bothering you, it's better to let it out now. Rip the band-aid off, or something like that."
"I…" Tatsumaki's voice trailed off.
So he was thinking of duty, too.
If what he'd said didn't make it clear enough, Saitama had a different mindset than she did. Maybe he considered it preferable to talk about what had just conspired between them. Maybe he would rather reject her quickly, and handle the aftermath at the end of their upcoming battle. To lessen the blow somehow.
Tatsumaki closed her eyes.
It's not like he was sure to say no, of course.
But the very thought of it threatened to send the esper careening. Down, down, down, down…
She was afraid of that, wasn't she?
'Are you… thinking about things, too?'
She couldn't even ask him to his face. She couldn't even fathom turning the vague words into something concrete.
'Do you like me the way I like you?'
Something she could grasp, hold, put close to her heart.
Something that could crumble as soon as it had formed.
Tatsumaki opened her eyes, finding the baldy meeting them.
Saitama would rather answer now, would he? It would do him well to have time to ruminate through battle, right?
So why not ask him already? Why not get it over with? Rip the damn band-aid off, as he put it so frankly?
She knew he liked her. She knew that.
A positive reply would send her to the moon. It would make everything else disappear. A 'yes' was the likely answer, wasn't it? Why was she depriving herself of that joy? Wouldn't it do well for her to rid herself of a possible distraction right now? One that would be replaced by something amazing.
'Do you like me?'
Why not just ask it?
.
The answer, as always, was painfully clear.
.
'I don't, actually.' Was the reply she would rather die than receive. 'Not the way you like me. Sorry, Tats.'
'A-Ah… I see…' she would say. 'That's. Uh. That's fine… We can still be friends, right? J-Just like alw—'
Tatsumaki shut her eyes tightly, fighting the emotion welling up at the very thought of his rejection.
.
It would rip her heart to pieces.
Like sand caught in the wind.
And she'd never get it back.
.
"Tats." Saitama's voice sent Tatsumaki's world spinning back into place. "Talk to me."
Questions of the heart aside…
The past few days had opened her eyes about the bald hero. More than her first week in his care, Tatsumaki realized that Saitama had a lot more on his plate than he'd like to admit.
Problems of self-doubt, questions about his heroic abilities, his resolve — and they talked about it. He was hesitant at first. Embarrassed, sure. But she had impressed upon him that he wasn't alone in his plight. She had insisted that she would listen to anything he'd have to say, silly as it may be.
And now here he was, calmly lending her an ear.
When had he noticed something was wrong?
The esper chuckled softly. It was unfair to assume that she was the only one paying attention to the other. She wasn't the best communicator, after all. And the baldy always had a knack to be there when she was feeling unbalanced.
'Talk to me,' hm?
Maybe she could take him up on his request.
.
There was a shifting in the wind. A storm was brewing.
Monsters. Humans. Everything in between. All drawn together in a tremendous swirl she could only describe as fateful. Causal.
It was high time — now, more than ever — to address a small curse she had been inflicted.
.
Tatsumaki gently touched her neck.
.
The alien. The ship.
Where it had all started.
The visions.
Of which she wished to find a way to end.
.
.
A tough one to write, to be honest. I don't have too much to really say for now? Lots of inner thoughts, inner monologues. And oh, please give a warm welcome to Child Emperor! A new character to write, kinda excited to see how he interacts with everyone.
That should be all for now. I appreciate the patience from all of you :))
.
-bb