Saitama carried the sleeping esper on his back, taking a deep breath as a warm breeze danced along the forest.

Making his way back to the other heroes — or rather, where he thought they might be — the baldy made sure to tread carefully. The ground was a mess; he didn't want any callous missteps to wake her.

He glanced sideward, making the most of the rare moment he could take in a calm expression from the esper.

Tatsumaki's face was relaxed, her trademark frown absent from her features. Her deep breaths tickled his ear.

Saitama's heart fluttered — a quick half-beat or two — and it sent a pulse of warmth throughout his body. He found that it had been doing so more often lately.

The wind billowed around them, the usual, stuffy afternoon heat gone and replaced by a rather chilly breeze, no doubt because of the canopy above.

The very same leafy sky served to cause the esper's vivid green locks to flutter. The dappled light above cast them in a complimentary glow. It reminded him of the esper's eyes. They were closed at the moment, but he could picture them as clear as day; a bright green gaze that seemed to get deeper the longer he looked.

'She really is pretty,' Saitama mused. He recalled thinking as much just a few hours ago, but their present closeness brought it to the forefront.

Delicate was hardly a word anyone would use to describe the esper, especially not after what she'd just done. A Dragon-level threat extinguished in an instant, not even its regeneration able to suppress her pure power.

But in that moment, with the esper slumped across his back, Saitama felt it. Without her powers, exhausted as she was, Tatsumaki truly felt fragile. She was light, though everything was to Saitama; there was simply no denying that her build was smaller than most.

Just as Tatsumaki's hair complemented her eyes, the esper's frame enhanced that air of ethereality about her. Seeing her moments ago, nestled satisfied by a tree, her hair and pale skin reflecting the sunlight — it was a scene from a painting.

He'd walked right into it. And the muse in its center placed her hands in his.

Saitama clutched his chest, feeling another onset of erratic heartbeats.

'We'll talk, huh?' he thought, trying to suppress the feelings that those words brought.

The bald hero made his way along the forest quietly. But his mind was far from peaceful.

.

"Miss Tatsuma—!"

As the two emerged onto the empty street, Saitama signaled for Child Emperor to keep quiet.

"She's fine," the bald hero called out in a half-whisper. "Just tired."

The young S-Class let out a long sigh.

"That's a relief." Child Emperor slumped, tension visibly leaving his body. "There weren't any casualties."

"About that. Garou left the heroes alive," Bang said, lowering his voice so as not to bother the resting esper. He glanced back at the line of unconscious heroes they rescued from the chaos that both Elder Centipede and Tatsumaki caused, taking a moment before speaking again. "Perhaps there is hope left in him yet."

Genos limped up to them quietly. The damage on his body was obvious, but his tone gave no indication that it was a concern.

Saitama stifled a gasp as he saw this. He hadn't even known his disciple would be here, or even how he was here… but he was. A slight bit of anguish washed over Saitama's features when he came face-to-face with his near-failure earlier today, but… the cyborg seemed much too focused to make Saitama want to bring it up. It was all the baldy could do to silently thank the heavens that Genos was okay.

"I would not bet on it," Genos said to Bang, confirming Saitama's suspicions. "He is now in the monsters' grasp. The next time I see him, I will not hesitate to treat him as one of them."

The cyborg wasn't asking permission, but Bang nodded anyway. He understood the younger hero's logic, but clearly thought otherwise. The old man's face looked pained.

"Garou is a resilient one," Bomb said, placing a firm hand on his sullen younger brother's shoulder. "Although I think that will prove to be a detriment to us, more than anything."

Child Emperor coughed as respectfully as he could.

"Enough theorizing, please. We should focus on the matter at hand," the boy said. "The matter being we need to bring the heroes to the hospital. May I ask something selfish of you all?"

"Hm?" Bomb tilted his head.

Child Emperor stared at the treeline ahead of them.

"I think I can find out where this group of monsters is hiding," he said. "I'll send a drone or two to scan the tunnels that Miss Tatsumaki helped to reveal. But it will take me a while to trace it back anywhere."

"Leave the injured heroes to us, then," Bang said.

"But what if another attack comes?" Bomb interjected. "Will you be able to handle yourself?"

Child Emperor put a hand to his chin, considering the question. "Worst-case scenario is that another monster of Elder Centipede's level shows up to prevent me from tracking their base of operations. I bet I could run away…"

He rummaged around in his backpack.

"But just in case. Please take these," he said, walking around, distributing coin-looking devices to the heroes.

"Transmitters," Genos noted, inspecting the gadget in his hand.

"Yep," Child Emperor said. "They come with location trackers and a radio channel specifically for those in the Hero Association. I would explain more, but—"

"We're in a rush, no?" Bang asked. His concern for his disciple was all but forgotten. There were more urgent matters at hand.

Child Emperor nodded.

"Young Saitama," the old S-Class said, stepping forward. "Will you be bringing Tornado with us?"

"Hm? What do you mea…"

Bang pointed at the esper's left arm. It was dripping blood onto Saitama's clothes.

Saitama pulled the sleeve up, eyes widening. Her arm looked to be covered in tiny scratches, all the way from her elbow to her knuckles—and it seemed to go on all the way up her arm. Her hand looked to be in the most damage. Inflicted with wide gashes and peeled skin, it made the bald hero shudder.

For a moment, Saitama considered doing such, but… he knew she didn't like being there.

"There are bandages back home," he said. "Will those be enough?"

"They do not look to be too deep, Master," Genos reaffirmed him.

"And after all the chaos everywhere, there might not be space for even these heroes," Bang gestured behind him. "If you have supplies at home, then that might be best."

"I'll hurry then," Saitama said.

And he was off.

.

.

Tatsumaki blinked her eyes open.

The wind whipped past her face. In her groggy state for a moment, she savored it. It was always, instinctually, a comfort to her.

"Saitama…?" she called, her voice a little hoarse.

They were in the air, the bald hero leaping towards… wherever he was going.

"Tats," the baldy replied gently.

"Sai…" she said fondly.

The baldy smiled back—as much as a smile he could muster through his concern. Clearly the esper was not in the sharpest state of mind—which just made his worry grow even more. "How does your arm feel?"

"My… arm?" She leaned forward over his shoulder to look.

The drop of her stomach snapped her awake.

It was a mess.

No doubt from the sloppily-planned punch she threw at the centipede. She wasn't too surprised that her body currently couldn't withstand that much force, but strangely it didn't bother her as much as she thought it would.

"Don't worry," she said. She had a theory in mind, and was in enough of a good mood to be confident in its success. "I got it."

Taking a deep breath, she glowed green. Focusing her energy onto her arm, she…

She couldn't feel any energy at all. Her powers had been completely drained.

"Ugh," the esper said, slumping back against Saitama. So much for that.

"You okay?" the baldy said, glancing at her arm from the edge of his eye. "You don't look… like you, uh, got it."

A wave of nausea hit the esper.

"Yeah, no…" Tatsumaki struggled through her words. "I'm all out of gas."

"We're nearly home, anyways," Saitama said, worried. "Got some bandages with your name on it."

"Just like when we met, hm?" the esper said, chuckling—then immediately regretting it after. Her head pounded. "Urgh…"

"At least it's just your arm," Saitama said, leaning close. "Just take it easy, 'kay?"

"Mhmmm… kinda hurts…" she said, closing her eyes. "Take care of me, yeah…?"

"Of course."

.

A few minutes later, the baldy hopped up to his apartment's floor. Opening the door a little awkwardly, what with the esper on his back and all, he fidgeted around with his boots before closing the door with his foot.

"Tats, we're here," he said.

The esper blinked awake yet again. A stubborn part of her didn't want to let go, not with her being so comfortable up there. But after a while, the pain in her arm told her that she needed to stop being delusional.

Saitama leaned down, and the esper stepped off from his back.

"We gotta clean the wound," he said. "Hold up your arm."

"I can do it my… ah…" Tatsumaki yawned, pulling her shoes off lethargically. "Mysheehlffhmm…"

"You sure?"

"Can't get to my whole arm without… you know…" She pulled at her shoulder, exposing her collar bone. Her arm clearly couldn't fit. And her sleeve couldn't be pulled up all the way through, either.

She didn't mean for it to be a teasing gesture. Or perhaps she did.

EIther way, Saitama looked away. "A-Ah. Yeah."

"Hand me the cotton," Tatsumaki said, slowly feeling the pain start to seep in through her lethargy. "I'll go to the bathroom."

Saitama carefully gave her the materials to balance on one arm, and the esper promptly went on her way.

"You… doing good over there?" the baldy called. It had been quite a bit of time.

"Nh… yeah…!" the esper replied, her voice echoing across the hall. She seemed fully awake now—no doubt because of the pain. "How do people do this without powers?!"

"I can help if you want?"

"No! I don't need your… ack!"

Saitama heard some clattering from inside the bathroom. After a moment of silence, the lock clicked, and the door squeaked open just a smidge.

A hand held a spool of gauze up.

"I'll… uh… clean up the mess after," the esper apologized. "I can't really do much by myself right now."

"Don't worry," Saitama said, walking over to her. "Are you gonna show me your other arm from behind the door, or… how do we do this?"

"I, uh. No. We can do this outside," Tatsumaki said. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don't mind."

She opened the door, looking a little embarrassed. The plain white tee looked quite a bit big on her. And small, at the same time. It barely covered her thighs.

"I'll give it back as soon as we're done," she said, pulling her left sleeve up. "Yo. Saitama?"

The baldy blinked, trying — failing — to pry his eyes away from the esper. "Y-Yeah?"

"Bandage?" Tatsumaki looked at him weirdly.

"O-Ok."

.

After a little fidgeting, the two found themselves sitting cross-legged on a futon, facing each other.

Tatsumaki faced away while Saitama wrapped her arm gently in a bandage.

"Just tell me if it's a little much," the baldy said, carefully looping the fabric atop her hands.

"It's fine," the esper replied, pulling the hem of her shirt down, making sure the fabric was stretched over the middle of her legs.

The two remained silent for a moment, the bandage having completely been wrapped around Tatsumaki's arm. Now that the most pressing matter had been dealt with, a long-awaited topic was now at the forefront of their minds. The air buzzed with a small bit of expectancy.

"So—" both of them said in unison.

Saitama gestured for Tatsumaki to go first.

"A-About the… the tournament earlier," the esper said softly. "I… didn't ask if it was okay to tell everyone that we were friends."

The room was quiet. Both of them knew it wasn't at all what they wanted- no, needed to talk about, but it was a pressing concern all the same. The guilty expression on Tatsumaki's face said as much.

"Yeah," Saitama said, a trace of a smile on his face. "S'all good."

The esper nodded deeply, a sigh escaping her lips. She fidgeted. Glancing at him, then away, then back. The room slowly, slowly grew warmer.

Was it just her?

'Say it,' she thought. The part of her mind that had been burdened with fear was now free. She was in a good mood, despite the sharp pain in her arm. It almost made her forget about the single scenario that played in her head.

As much as she hated it…

'I don't like you like that… sorry.' It was vivid. So, so vivid. His face — would it be apologetic? Would he scratch his head while trying to get the words out? He was blunt, though. Truly blunt, even at the best of times. Maybe the face he would make would be…

Expressionless.

Like he couldn't understand why she would feel that way. Like he couldn't understand feeling that way, either.

It brought the expectant air around her crashing down.

The room felt cold. Cold like it never had before.

Tatsumaki averted her eyes from Saitama's gaze.

"A bunch of monsters have grouped up, huh…" she muttered. "This talking thing… maybe… we can put it off just a little…"

Her attention locked towards the fading light hitting the balcony outside, she didn't catch Saitama frowning.

"If you say so," he said slowly.

Tatsumaki couldn't hear anything from his tone. She hung her head, and she knew that the agonizing quiet would surely follow.

.

His hand caught her eye. Placed on the table, so relaxed.

Despite trying not to think of her uncontrollable feelings of affection… she had held that very hand, hadn't she? Just for a moment, she felt his courage, his strength. Took it for herself.

Then let go.

Perhaps it was her need to explain herself, or perhaps it was to dispel that awful quiet that seemed to cling to them, but the esper looked up.

"Wh-when I said I didn't need you to be my hero…" she blurted, the sudden thought causing her to jump. "I didn't mean that you were doing a bad job or anything! I know you could've beaten it — gotten so much credit, too — for killing the Centipede, but I… I had to do it."

She raised her injured hand.

"I…" Tatsumaki sighed. If she wasn't going to 'talk,' she might as well tell him about something else that had been a long time coming. Anything to keep the silence at bay. "Remember when you rescued me from that alien on the ship?"

"Yeah. Of course," Saitama said.

Tatsumaki nodded, mind aflutter.

The free-flowing train of thoughts she was spewing was not new, but it was more of a mess than she was okay with. A lot was going through her mind, and she wasn't giving herself much time to really comprehend it.

In response to that, the esper took a deep breath. Then another. Gathering the resolve to say what she had been keeping from him since she had moved to her own apartment. "I-I dunno if it was because of the fight with that alien… or my injuries after… but… it messed me up."

.

'Too strong.' She remembered Saitama saying it, clear as day. 'He said I was too strong.'

It was incredibly annoying. Annoying in the fact that those words came from an opponent that beat her. Annoying in the fact that it was true. Annoying because he looked so disappointed in his overwhelming power.

She half-wanted to be vulnerable with him, too. The esper had thought her hard-won question would bring the both of them understanding about each other. That much she could recall. But it was quickly dashed by her angry (though decidedly necessary) response.

Something about him just made her want to put her own problems aside. It was an odd feeling.

Tatsumaki supported him when he spoke to her, frustrated as she was. Surprisingly, it actually helped to settle those frustrations in the end.

And maybe now that she was saying her own piece… he would react the same. It could be a small hint as to how he felt, too.

.

"You fell a few times," Saitama said, bringing up his own recent thoughts, and the words Child Emperor had struck him with. "Out of nowhere. Does… does that have anything to do with… you being messed up?"

Tatsumaki nodded slowly, and it rattled Saitama.

"I didn't want to fight," the esper said, barely whispering. "Not 'til now, at least."

"Were you scared?" Saitama asked.

Emerald green eyes looked into his own. Just as deep as he remembered.

"Ah…" he waved his hands around meaninglessly in the air. He knew Tatsumaki didn't like it when he aired her regrets out bluntly. "I-I meant—"

"I… hahh… I kinda was, wasn't I?" the esper said. "Every time I used my powers, I wondered if I was strong enough. I lost the focus I usually held so easily. I felt phantom pains, even after my actual injuries were healed."

"Even when we had those little scuffles in the park?" Saitama frowned. "Tats, you shouldn't have—"

Tatsumaki held up a hand. "I'm getting to that, 'kay?"

.

Seeing his face, seeing him so worried about her… it did evil things to her resolve.

The esper turned away to hide her expression.

"As long as you didn't feel any of those… phantom thingies." Saitama said, not convinced that he hadn't made her exert herself unknowingly.

"The opposite, actually," the esper said, biting her lip. She considered that, perhaps, it was going a little too far, telling Saitama all of this. Perhaps it was a peek into her feelings for him… but… "I got swept away in our competition. It was a well-needed distraction, and I'm grateful for it."

They were a little wordy, maybe too eloquent for her taste, but she had a lot of time to think about those words.

"Back there. You, uh," Tatsumaki began. "You made my heart race, too."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the baldy's expression.

Maybe it was a trick of the afternoon light. Maybe the red of the sky had leaked, piercing the harsh room light of Saitama's small apartment. Tatsumaki had half a mind to look away, in fear that it would make her unravel her resolve.

His face was red.

Tatsumaki clutched her chest tightly. Her heart…

'No!' she told herself, shaking her head. 'Now's not the time!'

Fate seemed to agree with her.

.

The entrance to Saitama's apartment swung open. He had completely forgotten to lock it.

"Sait— SISTER?!" Fubuki sputtered. "I-I— what are you wearing?!"

Tatsumaki looked down, slowly realizing how revealing a single shirt was on her. Her grip on it had long eased, and the fabric had sprung up from its closed position.

"A-Ah!" Tatsumaki sputtered, face beet red. "I, my—"

"I can't believe you'd… while we're in the middle of a crisis…" Fubuki began covering her face.

Tatsumaki couldn't understand. What did she think was happening here?!

"I had to have bandages put on me!" the green-haired esper stood up, grateful that it at least covered her up when she wasn't sitting. Saitama had stared at her when she exited the bathroom, hadn't he? "I couldn't pull up my sleeves while wearing my usual outfit, so—"

"So Saitama changed you out of it?!" the raven-haired esper accused, jabbing her finger at Tatsumaki. "He saw everything, then! I know you don't like to wea—"

The older esper used a sliver of her power to shut her younger sister's mouth up. It rammed a headache into the side of her skull, but it was not nearly as much of a pain as Fubuki's accusations currently were.

"Shut up!" Tatsumaki said, even redder-faced than before. "What kind of degenerate do you think I am?! And why are you even here, anyways?!"

Fubuki mouthed something, but her sister's powers were still keeping her lips sealed.

"You better not say anything stupid," the S-Class warned.

Fubuki nodded in annoyance. With a flick of Tatsumaki's finger, the green seal around her mouth disappeared.

"I came here to talk to Saitama," Fubuki said, rubbing her lips and sighing.

The older esper walked up, head tilted, to her younger sister.

"Alone?" Tatsumaki asked.

"My group is on standby," Fubuki averted her eyes from her sister's stare. She began to whisper. "But I wanted to… make sure he was okay."

Tatsumaki's eyes narrowed.

"Okay?"

"Well, you left him, didn't you? To try to defend me from a monster I clearly could've beat," Fubuki scoffed. "The Monster Association has popped up and threatened us heroes. So I thought, what if you couldn't find him? I can't go and have you two arguing at such a crucial point in time."

"Arguing?" Tatsumaki raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know!" Fubuki raised her hands in exasperation. "I figured if you left, he'd go and sulk — Genos said he'd been doing that recently — and I felt that if you two fought, you'd— oh, whatever! You two are clearly not fighting." Fubuki eyed her barely-dressed sister. "Maybe fighting for whoever's gonna be on top, ugh. Just leave me out of this."

The girl moved to walk out the door.

"Hey!" Tatsumaki grabbed her hand furiously.

"Wh…?!"

Tatsumaki took a deep breath. The green-haired esper was not going to let another miscommunication get in the way of their relationship. That, and…

She wasn't sure if she could resist being alone with Saitama for any longer.

"Stay." Tatsumaki meant for it to come out a little gentler, but her voice caused Fubuki to jump. "I'm… uh… out of power at the moment." The green-haired girl raised her bandaged limb. "Mind trying to heal my arm a little?"

"You? Lose your powers?" Fubuki rolled her eyes. She clearly found the older esper's words a lousy excuse to keep her in the apartment. "C'mon, you can't fool me, sis."

"Tats tried a while ago," Saitama said, finally finding the time to speak up. "But her powers were…" The baldy blew a raspberry.

'Way to put it nicely,' Tatsumaki thought, rolling her eyes.

But thankfully, it was enough to convince Fubuki.

"Take a look for yourself," the green-haired girl said, holding out her arm.

.

The younger esper slowly removed the bandages, her heart pounding faster with each unraveled wrap.

'How did this… happen?!' the younger esper felt her stomach churn. She was used to the sight of wounds, but this… this was her sister. She was untouchable!

"Tried to punch a thing," Tatsumaki said, as if it explained everything.

"What in the world did you try to punch?! A blender, you idiot?!" Fubuki said, shaking her head.

Tatsumaki shrugged and looked away. If there was anyone she wasn't comfortable sharing her weakness with, it was with her younger sister. "If you could… do that thing you did a while back. The… healing thing."

"You can do that?" Saitama butted in.

"I can't!" Fubuki raised her hands in denial. "At least… it's been a while since I've even thought about it…"

The raven-haired esper eyed her sister. Clearly Tatsumaki believed she could do it.

'Maybe…' Fubuki thought, staring at her palms.

"Hold your arm up," the younger esper said, finding it in herself to make her tone firm. "And pull up your sleeve."

Tatsumaki obliged, wincing a little as the fabric touched her raw skin.

"Now stay still."

Closing her eyes, Fubuki hovered her hands right above her sister's wounds.

A soft blue glow spread across the walls of the apartment. A bead of sweat dripped from Fubuki's temple.

Psychic power was energy. Where exactly it was drawn from, Fubuki wasn't sure. During her time trying to understand her powers, sources would always be contradictory.

What she did know was that exhaustion would occur after an esper overused their powers. Which meant that, at least at some level, they drew from their own reserves of energy.

And aside from being able to move objects with that energy, it could be given to others.

Fubuki pictured herself as a glass of water whenever she used her powers. A glass that would pour out every time she used her powers. Through training, she was able to make the glass bigger, less fragile, or pour water more efficiently.

Fubuki felt a gasp escape her lips. Feeling her powers seep into her sister's arm, she felt a vast lake. Quite an empty one, but…

'She's so strong…' the younger esper thought. Pouring a glass onto a lakebed… it wouldn't do anything.

'No,' Fubuki shook her head, clearing the growing feeling of inadequacy away. She wasn't trying to reinvigorate her sister. She was trying to heal her arm.

Quickly dispersing the image of a lake from her mind, Fubuki focused on the physical flesh and bone in front of her.

Tatsumaki felt a numb, tingling sensation fill her arm. Her limb shuddered involuntarily a slight bit — just like Saitama when she tried to lift him. It felt both warm and cold at the same time.

Slowly, the blue light faded.

"There you go, sis…" Fubuki said, breathing hard. "I'm… I'm gonna go and sit down…"

Watching her little sister walk towards the living room, Tatsumaki glanced at her arm.

It looked like it had been a couple days since she got her wounds, not just an hour or two. They had closed. Scabs had formed. The pain was gone, replaced by that electric buzz—and a faint bit of itching, which was to be expected.

"Fubuki's really something," Saitama said, inspecting the older esper's arm.

"She's a natural," Tatsumaki smirked.

"Took after you, then, huh?" Saitama chuckled.

"In some ways, she's better," the esper said quietly, smiling to herself.

Tatsumaki walked over to her sister, wrapping her newly healed arm around the extremely surprised girl.

"Wha—?! Get off me—!"

"Hehehe… ehehe!" Tatsumaki giggled, patting Fubuki's head. As much as the younger esper pretended to loathe the interaction, her protesting quickly stopped.

''Bout time,' Saitama thought, smiling.

They were finally acting like sisters.

.

Not for too long, though.

"Hunh?!" the baldy reeled back.

"Put on some actual clothes!" Fubuki had begun pulling on Tatsumaki's oversized tee, trying to make her take it off. "I can see down your damn collar!"

"HEY! You're gonna rip it!" the older esper said defensively. "This is Sai's shirt—!"

"'Sai?!'"

"Sh-Short for Saitama!"

"What a dumb nickname," Fubuki scoffed, easing her grip on her sister. "And by the way, what's with all this 'Tats,' business huh!? You never let me give you a nickname!"

"T-that's because you never asked!" Tatsumaki looked at her, confused. She made a subtle move to pull away from Fubuki's grasp. "And what do you care?!"

Not noticing her older sister's movements, the raven-haired esper pointed a finger at Tatsumaki. "Such a cute name doesn't fit you, you harlot! Your legs are so exposed, it's like you're practically begging Sa~ai to f— MMPHHH!"

"Shut up!" Tatsumaki threw herself at Fubuki, covering the younger esper's mouth.

Thanks in no small part to the green-haired esper's exhaustion, the younger esper wrested herself from her sister and pointed at her angrily. "Take that shirt off or I'll hurl!"

"Make me."

"Urgh, Saitama!" the younger esper pointed at the man by the doorway.

"Y-Yeah?" he raised his hands as if Fubuki had just pointed a gun at him.

"Where's this stripper's dress?"

"I-In the bathroo—"

Fubuki stood up and stomped past Saitama, shoved the far door open, and grabbed her sister's clothes. She muttered something about it being a mess, then stormed back to the living room, slamming the door behind her as she did.

"Change! Now!" Fubuki said. Their voices carried clearly from the kitchen pass-through.

"Who do you think you're bossing around, huh?"

"A flasher! An exhibitionist! Have some self-respect, you're a guest here!"

"How dare you—!"

The sounds of chaos echoed through the hall. It was at this point Saitama realized he wouldn't be able to go inside anytime soon. With a shrug, he walked into the bathroom.

All the recent excitement was no good for his bowels.

.

.

"I'm surprised anyone but me is able to put up with her," Fubuki scoffed, glancing over to the corner of the cramped apartment, where her sister lay sleeping. Tatsumaki had eventually succumbed to her exhaustion. It was a worrying sight to the young esper, but at the very least, her sister had fallen asleep while dressed more appropriately.

"It's because you taunted her," Saitama said, voice slightly muffled. He was preparing a meal in the kitchen. "You know how she gets when she's annoyed."

The younger esper clicked her tongue. "Don't tell me you were okay with that vulgar display."

"I-It couldn't be helped." The stove flared up.

"Though I guess a boy wouldn't get it," Fubuki mused. "Did you enjoy the view?"

"I— ah!" The young esper snickered as she heard an egg crack much too loudly and a bout of jumbled words escape the kitchen.

"Though I'm surprised she's that cozy around you," Fubuki continued. "She certainly seems more energetic, at least."

"Yeah. It's… fun. It's fun when she's energetic."

The younger esper nodded, though she knew Saitama wasn't looking. Truly the man was a mystery to her. She might've known nearly everything about him since he met Genos — the overzealous disciple saw to it that she did — but Saitama's thoughts were never fully clear, even to him.

"Say, has she been bothering you recently, Saitama?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"My sister isn't really the best with people. Not even close. In fact, as far as I know, you're the only stranger she's really taken a liking to," Fubuki explained. It was not delivered as a compliment, but rather as a matter of fact — she hoped such a flattering statement wouldn't pull away from what she was about to say next. "Which means… however she's choosing to handle this new openness… might not be the best. And as you can clearly see, she has no concept of what's socially acceptable, just what she wants and doesn't want. So… I'm worried that she might take things a little too far."

No reply came to her.

"Saitama?" the young esper stood up and peeked through the pass-through.

She was met with an oddly thoughtful look from the bald man.

"I'm not the best with people, either," Saitama admitted. "So I really wouldn't really know what's normal. But…" He trailed off.

"But?"

"I… I think she did take things a little too far," the bald hero said, turning his attention back to the sizzling stove. Perhaps in an attempt to distance himself from his words. "But I wasn't bothered by it. Is… is that bad?"

Fubuki paused, watching the bald man scramble the eggs aimlessly with a spatula.

"What did she do?" she asked cautiously.

"She… uh…" Saitama shook his head. "No, it's nothing."

So it did bother him, then.

"I won't tell her," the raven-haired esper promised, forcing herself to keep her tone steady.

Perhaps her worries about coming over hadn't been unfounded.

As much as she had a hard time wrapping her head around it, her sister and Saitama were close. Closer than she thought her sister could be with anyone. From what she knew of them both, that feeling of closeness wouldn't be met with any affirmation, at least not quickly. Not in the slightest. That slow, unsure sense of progress could cause misunderstandings. Dangerous ones.

Tatsumaki was much too closed off — or had been — and those barriers around herself were now being tested. If she knew her sister, a genuine feeling of acceptance would slowly begin eating away at her walls, but she would refuse to believe they were coming down.

That is, until they were completely gone. And she wouldn't be able to help herself from feeling things she shouldn't feel.

Saitama was a hero. That much she knew. Dense, but a genuinely good guy, from what she could believe from Genos' words. That meant it was likely that he would probably have broken her sister's harsh facade without even realizing it.

And in comes the danger. The misunderstandings.

Tatsumaki had fallen for Saitama, that was almost a certainty at this point. Fubuki had tried teasing her earlier in the day, calling Saitama her boyfriend, and it worked like a charm. In fact, the more she teased, the more her sister had crumbled under the pressure

But with Saitama… she simply did not know. If her sister had done anything, feeling that rushed sense of attachment… and if Saitama didn't feel the same way…

.

"She kissed me," the bald hero said quietly, as if speaking Fubuki's nightmare into existence. Her stomach dropped.

"O-Oh…" The younger esper blinked. She expected something, but not that. Not this soon.

His tone, as it always did, gave nothing away. Fubuki took it as a bad sign.

"I said I wasn't bothered, but… I'm not sure anymore," Saitama continued, just as quietly as before.

The simmering pan droned above his words. Having shut the lights in the living room in consideration for Tatsumaki, when Fubuki turned to look at her sister's sleeping form, all she saw was darkness.

"You said…" the raven-haired girl began, her thoughts awhirl. "She was a friend to you, right? A really good friend."

"I did, yeah…"

Fubuki didn't really know what to say next. Suddenly, things felt all too real. "Did you feel… that… the, uh, kiss… changed things?"

"Yeah."

She understood now why Genos was hesitant to explain his master's frame of mind when doing things. As far as she could tell — and she usually could tell — there were no clue-ins to the baldy's thoughts. It was infuriating.

'In what way did that bother you?' she desperately wanted to ask. For his sake. For her sister's sake. Was it a bother in that it shook up that quiet sulking of his? Or was it a bother… for the worse?

Fubuki shook her head. She did not want to know the answer to her questions. She did not want to find out before her sister did — Fubuki knew she wouldn't be able to keep that close to her chest.

And Saitama, for what it was worth, didn't care to elaborate any further.

The simmering pan was deafening.

.

Before long, the raven-haired girl found that she couldn't take the droning sound much longer. Staring at the darkened balcony, where Saitama's reflection in the kitchen was clear, the girl decided to talk.

"Big sis used to cook for me, you know?" she said, half to herself.

"I've heard," Saitama replied.

She was glad he was still willing to talk.

"She'll never admit it, but she wasn't that good of a cook," the young esper said, chuckling.

"Really?" Saitama sounded unconvinced. "She must've gotten better, then."

"After a while," Fubuki said, smiling. "And I had to butt in. I was so sick of eating burnt toast and raw eggs."

"Yeesh." The girl couldn't see it, but Saitama smiled. "Y'know, Genos had to teach me a thing or two as well. I just couldn't figure out how much salt to put in."

Fubuki laughed. "You really are like her, do you know that?"

"Hmm?"

The girl took a long glance at her sleeping sister, then turned to look at Saitama.

"I've thought about it for a while," she said. "And the resemblance is uncanny."

"Me? Are you saying I look like her or something?"

"No, Saitama," the raven-haired esper rolled her eyes. "It's the attitude. It's how you carry yourself."

"I'm not sure what you mean, but thanks?"

Of course he would take it as a compliment. Only he would.

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome." Fubuki waved his words away with her hand.

"So… Fubs."

"Hmm?" Finding herself lost in thought for a moment, Fubuki turned her attention back to Saitama.

He held up an egg.

"How do you like yours cooked?" he asked.

Truly, truly uncanny, the resemblance was. And despite her turmoil about the two, Fubuki couldn't help but to smile.

"Over easy, please," the young esper requested. She surprised herself with the rush of nostalgia those words brought.

.

"Uh… what's that?"

And those words were all too familiar, too. Was there a word for bad nostalgia?

"Ugh," Fubuki groaned. "Let me show you."

.

.

DING DONG!

.

The door clicked open.

"Master!" Genos bowed deeply. "We have successfully brought the injured heroes to proper medical facilities."

Saitama smiled at the younger hero and welcomed him in. "You said facili-ties, with an s?"

"Yes, sensei." The cyborg walked inside with a slight limp. "There were too many injured from the monster invasion to house them all in one hospital."

"That's why we need to act quickly," a voice called from inside. "Though it looks like you got into some pretty deep trouble."

Genos craned his neck over Saitama's shoulder to see Fubuki raising a hand in greeting.

"Blizzard," the cyborg said, nodding to her. "Have you come to check on your sister?"

"Yep. And Master Baldy over he— ow!" Fubuki's banter was quickly cut short by a pinch to the thigh. The raven-haired girl turned to her sister. "What was that for?!"

"Don't be rude," Tatsumaki admonished.

"Oh don't you go talking to me about being rude…!"

Ignoring the newly-sprung argument between the two espers — which was just as easy to tune out as a certain green-haired esper's complaints — Genos caught a scent lingering in the air.

"Have you already eaten dinner, master?" the cyborg asked, walking to the kitchen.

"More of a snack," Saitama said, gesturing to the half-finished sandwiches on the bickering sisters' plates. "Sorry for not making you any. Wasn't expecting you to come home so soon."

"It is fine, master," Genos said, checking the fridge with his one good arm. So it had been the newly-bought eggs that his sensei had cooked. He made a mental note to refill the fridge two days earlier — exactly enough for the two scrambled yolks that the espers had consumed. "Silverfang treated us to a small snack as well."

"Sounds like something he'd do," Saitama said, locking the entranceway. "Was it expensive?"

"Just takoyaki," Genos replied, shutting the fridge. "Sensei, how are Tornado's wounds?"

Saitama raised an eyebrow at that. It was unusual for Genos to worry about the esper's wellbeing. And just when the baldy was going to ask him about his injuries.

"Her arm's fine," the bald hero said. "Nothing an old patch-up and magic healing couldn't handle. And how about you? Are you doing… okay?"

The cyborg nodded. His eyes seemed fixed on the esper's limb. It looked better than it had before, but…

"What brought this up?" Saitama asked. "Have you finally tried to make peace with Tats?"

Genos turned back to face Saitama. "Fighting Elder Centipede, an opponent three heroes in S-Class could do nothing against, and defeating it in a single blow… Tornado has my respect."

Before Saitama could take in what his disciple said, the cyborg walked over to the kitchen and began washing the bowls and pans Saitama used to make their food. The blond hero seemed to be in deep thought. And perhaps doing something monotonous was a way for him to meditate on things.

What a far cry from the restless, bitter boy that had come to his doorstep looking for revenge.

Saitama really was proud of Genos. He wondered if he said that to him enough.

.

Walking back to the living room shocked the bald hero back into a stupor.

"You spilled the yolk all over me!" Tatsumaki shouted. Her chin, all the way down to her collar, was streaked with yellow sludge.

"You were the one who wanted a bite!" Fubuki accused. "And you didn't even wait for my permission before doing it!"

"I shared my egg with you!"

"Doesn't mean I wanted to share mine!"

The two pushed at each other. Not for the first time, Saitama was glad to be outside of the sisters' bickering.

"And YOU!" Tatsumaki pointed to the baldy. Her earlier groggy mood had seemed all but gone. It was a good thing, Saitama knew, but it was hard for him to feel that way as she shouted at him. "Why'd you make Fubuki a better egg than mine, huh?!"

"You didn't—"

"And she said you call her 'Fubs,' now?!" Tatsumaki continued. "Is that some kind of stupid wordplay? You do know what that rhymes with, right?! Or do you mean to tell me that it was subconscious? Ugh, don't answer; I don't know what's worse!"

"I—"

"Shut up! Stupid! Dummy!"

Saitama walked forward, brows furrowing. As he did, Tatsumaki's angry gaze followed. Up until she had to crane her neck to glower at him.

"What, are you gonna try and explain yourself?" she said, putting her good hand on her hip. "All of a sudden Fubuki comes in and you—"

Saitama stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her mouth.

Fubuki nearly cried laughing as Saitama walked away and shut the door, completely ignoring Tatsumaki's half-coughing, half-swearing meltdown.

.

"Yo, Genos," Saitama called, trying to push down his annoyance. He found his disciple cleaning the bathroom. "You're injured. Tag out."

The cyborg hardly accepted giving his master extra work, but this was an exception. "As you wish."

Saitama had the boy's best interests at heart, truly he did.

But as soon as Genos opened the living room door, a plate was smashed into his face. Whether that was out of sheer anger at anything and everything, or if it was a misplaced attempt at getting back at Saitama was of little consequence to Tatsumaki. The damage had been done.

The limping cyborg and powerless esper couldn't fight physically, but they had more than enough juice to spare in the insult department.

.

Fubuki had nearly died laughing by the end of it.

.

.

DING DONG!

.

"Sorry we took so long, Saitama," Bang said, gratefully stepping out of his aching shoes. Bomb followed suit soon after. "We stopped by the dojo to grab a few things."

"Mhm." Saitama said tiredly.

Slowly, his eyes were drawn to the large fabric tote bag in the older martial artist's hands. He had half a mind to shoo the old men away, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "Whatcha got over there?"

"Hot pot," Bomb said simply. And it was good enough for the bald hero.

Saitama's face turned serious.

"Welcome to my humble home," he said, holding his hand out for the prized bag. "Feel free to rest to your heart's content."

"You have our thanks," Bomb replied, placing the tote into Saitama's possession.

"Has Child Emperor communicated with you yet?" Bang asked, walking to the living room. Unusually, the door to the small space was closed.

Saitama placed a hand on his pocket, where he kept his new transmitter. It had been silent the whole day.

"No," he replied. "Should we try to contact him?"

"He will contact us when he needs to, I'm sure," Bang replied. "Spywork requires a little faith from both ends — who knows if a misplaced call could give his position away."

"But he isn't really spying, right?" Saitama asked.

"He's a cautious boy," Bang said. "We should trust him."

"I agree." Bomb nodded, recalling the young hero's decision-making abilities as they fought Elder Centipede. He had no doubt Child Emperor could — and would — handle most any situation he was placed into.

"If you say so." Saitama shrugged, placing his hand on the doorknob.

Bang had already heard muffled commotion in the direction of the living room, but nothing could prepare him for the sight that revealed itself as Saitama swung the door open.

Books, pens, papers, futons — somehow even the curtains — had been strewn about the floor. It looked as if a tornado had…

Ah. Bang figured it out pretty quickly.

The green-haired esper sat squarely atop the table, arms crossed and scowling. She refused to meet the eyes of Saitama and his latest guests. Fubuki was picking up broken pieces of… something, all across the floor. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line, as if she was afraid to even breathe wrong. She looked to have been newly-scolded by her older sister — an expression which Bang was all too familiar with.

"Where is young Genos?" Bang asked.

"Bathroom," Saitama said. "It's a mess in there, too."

The cyborg was sent back to bathroom cleaning duty. After all the fuss, Saitama realized that his disciple and his best friend could not be kept in the same room for too long. So much for finally getting along.

"Well, do not mind us setting this all up," Bomb said, making a gesture for Saitama to open up the bag. From within, he pulled a large, portable stove with a notably long cable. "Do you have a nabe?"

"Somewhere around here, yeah. You guys can set up," Saitama said. A little hesitant to enter the living room, for fear that it would start up another eruption of his belongings, he made for the kitchen and rummaged around. He placed the rest of the tote bag — which was filled with ingredients for their hot pot — on the counter.

.

"Good evening… Miss Tornado," Bang said slowly. Having been passed the stove by his brother, he inched around the esper like she was a feral cat. He looked around for the nearest outlet.

"Hi," was the esper's curt reply. She turned to Fubuki. "You missed a spot."

The esper pointed a finger to the corner-wall between the kitchen and living room, where a tiny piece of plate twinked in the light. She kicked her younger sister's butt, pushing her to the spot that needed cleaning.

"Ah!" Fubuki yelped, turning to complain to her sister. "I already said I was sorry!"

"You were enjoying yourself too much," Tatsumaki huffed. "This is what you deserve."

Fubuki turned away, muttering something under her breath.

Bang sighed, turning back to his task. At the very least, the anger wasn't directed towards him.

Standing by the entrance, Bomb chuckled.

'Ah, memories,' he said, recalling the many times he disciplined his own troublesome little brother.

.

.

DING DO—

.

"Yea?" Saitama opened the door. "Wha—?"

"Hey sensei," a pale hero raised a lazy hand in greeting. "Got some time to talk?"

"Zombie… man?" Saitama raised an eyebrow, not sure if he remembered the name properly.

"The very same," Zombieman nodded.

Saitama pulled the door fully open and let the hero inside.

"What're you doing here?" the baldy asked.

"To talk, just like I said," the pale hero pulled his boots off. It didn't escape his attention that five pairs of shoes were already crammed into the entranceway. "Say, is Genos away?"

"What?"

"I don't see his shoes anywhere."

"Oh," Saitama paused. "I guess they got busted after the whole monster invasion thing."

Zombieman's casual demeanor shifted as the baldy talked about the recent attacks. Walking briskly to the middle of the hallway, he looked Saitama in the eye.

"I have a lead on where they might be," the pale hero said. "And I wanted to—"

"Mister Zombieman?!" Child Emperor landed in the small corridor outside of Saitama's apartment. He looked exhausted. In his hands, a beeping transmitter shone a holographic image of Saitama's apartment building — as well as five dots clumped in one area. "Ah, you are here!"

"Isamu," the pale hero smiled. "How are you doing?"

Child Emperor put the gadget back into his pocket."I was going to inform Miss Tatsumaki and the others about my findings." He took off his shoes and placed his backpack against the wall. Tired as he was, his eyes shone with excitement. "I think I found where their hideout is!"

Saitama glanced back and forth between the two heroes. Zombieman met the child's excitement with a grin. "All I have is a lead," he said, clearly caring little that a boy had out-investigated him. "Good job."

Child Emperor couldn't help but to laugh sheepishly at the praise.

"Guess all I'm doin' is taking up space," Zombieman scratched the back of his head. "There'll be a meeting tomorrow, anyways. I'll be seeing you—"

"Wait! Stay!" Child Emperor said, blocking the pale hero's path. But he quickly realized what he was doing. "Er…" the boy looked at Saitama. "If you're okay with it."

The baldy looked at the pale hero thoughtfully. Out of all of the eccentric visitors in his apartment, he felt a certain level of respect for Zombieman. Not including Bang or Bomb, the hero had an air of maturity to him. Genos had given his praise back at the hot spring. Tatsumaki had asked a favor of him — one that granted Saitama a spot in the A-Class.

Not to mention how patient he was with the whole… stabbing business a while back.

And now it seemed even Child Emperor looked up to him.

If anyone could get the rowdy group to settle down, it would be him.

"He can stay," Saitama said, closing the door for hopefully the last time that day. "C'mon, we have hot pot."

.

"Well this certainly is… a lot of people," Zombieman said as he opened the door to the living room.

It was absolutely cramped.

"'Sup," Tatsumaki said, nodding to him. She had moved from her spot atop the table and was sitting on the floor with her back facing the balcony. A stove was simmering in front of her, with a few pieces of raw meat and vegetables cooking inside.

"Come, come!" Bang said, of the opinion that, at a hot pot, the more the merrier. Bomb grumbled in agreement.

"Don't mind if I do!" Child Emperor squeezed past the pale hero and took the closest seat. "I'm starving!"

"Master, are you okay with even more visitors?" Genos asked. He sat a distance away from Tatsumaki — nearly opposite the unpredictable esper — and beside the newly-arrived Child Emperor. To his other side were the two martial artists.

"Z-Z-Zombieman?!" Fubuki sputtered, clearly star-struck. She had taken a seat between Bang and her older sister. "And Child Emperor?!"

"You're… Blizzard, yes?" Zombieman asked politely.

The young esper nodded.

"Nice to meet you," the pale hero smiled.

"S-Same," Fubuki said, looking down.

"He's not even in the top 5 of the S-Class," Tatsumaki scoffed. "It's no big deal."

Zombieman chuckled. "You know what is a big deal, though — the lack of room for me at the table."

The pale hero stepped aside and placed a hand on Saitama's back. The baldy had been watching the whole meet-and-greet for a bit, but it was his apartment, after all.

"Go on, sensei—" Zombieman paused as Genos shot him a quick glance. "Er, Saitama. I'll grab a couple bowls and get a seat by your desk."

Patting the baldy's back, the pale hero dipped into the kitchen.

"I'll help!" Child Emperor said, quickly standing up and dipping past Saitama.

.

And the bald man found the rest of the room staring quietly at their host.

There was a clear spot that had been saved for him. Or rather, a spot everyone else had the common sense not to pick.

Tatsumaki eyed him expectantly.

What else could he do but take it?

.

"Excuse the wait," Bang said apologetically, watching as, finally, the pot began to boil with more vigor. "It's been far too long since we used this stove contraption."

No complaints were made, but the grumble of stomachs across the room was enough to get the general sentiment across. Bang laughed awkwardly.

"So…" Saitama said, looking around. "Do you all have bowls?"

A sea of quiet nodding greeted him.

"And chopsticks?"

Another wave of assenting nods.

"Ooookay, then."

The baldy glanced at the air conditioner behind him, which lay dormant for almost as long as he'd been living in his apartment.

The day hadn't been particularly hot, but there were currently seven other people taking up space in his tiny abode — not to mention the stove boiling soup in the middle of the room. He could tell it was stuffy, at the very least.

"Should we turn it on?" Tatsumaki asked, catching the baldy's intentions.

The esper had been a definite exception to his 'no aircon' rule back when she stayed a week in his apartment. Whether it was due to her thick bandages or just because it was what she was used to, the machine had been in use more often than not. He complained, of course, but it opened his eyes as to how overbearing the esper could be if she wanted to.

Now, though, she was asking nicely.

"Yeah, I'll get it—"

Tatsumaki shook her head. With a flick of her finger, the machine eagerly buzzed to life.

The first sputter of cold air made the green-haired esper sigh contentedly.

"Ah, that's much better," Fubuki said, taking a deep breath.

The other guests muttered in agreement. It wasn't necessary to have it on, of course, and nobody except Tatsumaki seemed inclined to insist, but it was a welcome bit of comfort in the crowded room.

With the cold wind blowing, a relaxed air settled around the group of heroes. Finding a rare chance to be in each other's company, conversations started up between them.

"Are you doing okay, Genos?" Zombieman asked from Saitama's desk chair.

"Yes," the cyborg said. "My apologies for presenting myself in such a state."

Child Emperor shook his head vehemently. "If anything, I should be apologizing! Fighting Garou, then Elder Centipede… I couldn't help ease the burden at all."

"We didn't know the fight would end up like that," Tatsumaki muttered. "It was a rush job."

"I know, but…" the boy grimaced. "I put Genos in harm's way, even when there was a chance he didn't need to be in danger…"

"No use worrying about the past," Bang said, leaning over to pat the young hero's shoulder. "You did an excellent job leading us."

"We wouldn't want to leave the battle to a child," Bomb said gently. "Our duty as adults is to take care of the next generation, after all."

Child Emperor looked to the floor, unable to meet their eyes.

"Thanks," he said. For once, his voice sounded as small as he was.

Not caring to let the mood dip, Zombieman got out of his seat and knelt down next to the boy.

"Don't you have something to tell us?" the pale hero asked.

"Ah! Yeah," the boy looked at Zombieman awkwardly. "But wouldn't talking about hero work kinda spoil the celebration, or whatever this is?"

Tatsumaki scoffed. "Who do you think we are?"

"Huh?" the boy looked confused.

"We're heroes," she huffed, turning her nose up.

"We've been waiting for an update on you," Bomb interjected. "Any news you have to bring is welcomed."

"Ah…" Child Emperor nodded slowly. "Well, I do have some news. Though I have to say, it might not be best to act upon it right now."

The group turned their ears to him. Some of them leaned forward expectantly.

"The monsters' hideout is here in Z-City," the boy said. "Almost right under our feet."

A dark buzz went around the room, and Child Emperor sighed. He knew that the news would be gloomy, and his discovery had even shocked him, too. Hadn't the Hero Association sent two A-Class heroes to investigate the place a long time ago?

"Tornado," Genos spoke up above the others. It seemed his annoyance for the esper had been overshadowed by the matter at hand. "You have sensory abilities, do you not?"

"Kinda," Tatsumaki replied. "But you can't expect me to use them now."

"That was not the point of my question," the cyborg shook his head. "How did you not notice any strange energy signals whenever you would visit master Saitama?"

"I-I wasn't looking out for monsters at the time!" Tatsumaki said defensively.

Fubuki giggled knowingly. Her older sister whipped her head around to her, glaring daggers at the laughing girl.

"So it's not just sensei who's been going to your place, hmm?" Zombieman raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Tatsumaki quickly turned to the pale hero. "I…!"

"You know," Child Emperor scratched his chin, his mind quickly putting the puzzle pieces together. "The new H.Q. hadn't been constructed until a week after the invasion. Did you stay here for that week?"

"Well—" But again, Tatsumaki was cut off.

"She did," Bang confirmed. "Tatsumaki refused to go to a hospital, so Saitama had to let her stay here until the hot spring meetup."

Bomb muttered something about not being invited. Saitama laughed nervously, saying it wasn't such a big deal.

Fubuki looked scandalized. "Sis, you could've stayed over with me!"

"And have to deal with your lackeys coddling me? No way."

"Saitama," Fubuki leaned back to face the bald man. She put her hands together apologetically. "I'm so sorry she had to insist on staying here."

"It's fine, really."

Zombieman chuckled. "No wonder you two are so chummy," the pale hero said. "How exactly was little miss sunshine during her stay here, Saitama?"

"Oh, she was a real pain," the baldy said, nudging the older esper teasingly. "She was always mad. Made sure we knew it, too."

"Tornado would threaten us and constantly remind us to keep her stay a secret," Genos added. "Although it seems like that was useless in the end."

"I didn't tell anyone!" Tatsumaki said, beginning to feel heat creep up to her face. She pointed accusingly at Child Emperor and Zombieman. "These two snoopers figured it out on their own! And the threat still stands; tell anyone and you're dead meat! Or scraps!"

She looked meaningfully in the cyborg's direction. She was met with a defiant scowl.

"Understood, miss," Zombieman held his hands up in defeat, bringing her attention away from Genos.

After a moment of consideration, the pale hero caught a gleam in his eye.

"While those monster attacks were going on, I was scouting for intel," he began. "During a particularly long stretch of quiet, I managed to grab a drink or two. And it was after I made my order that a certain T.V. program caught my eye," he explained. "To preface this, I'm not much of a fan of martial arts — no offense to you, Silverfang — but there was this Super Fight Tournament, yeah?" he said, tone neutral. "Have you guys seen it?"

Tatsumaki's eyes went wide. Saitama stiffened.

"Sadly, no," Bang shook his head. "Me and my brother were off looking for Garou."

"I was out doing hero work," Fubuki said, tilting her head.

"Same here," Child Emperor said. He was back to his old seat between Genos and Saitama.

"I had attended," Genos began. "Master was participating."

Zombieman nodded knowingly.

"What?!" Bang said. "You received an invite, young Saitama?"

"I, er, borrowed your student's… invite," the baldy said, looking away from the martial artist.

"That's not supposed to be legal," Bomb said, crossing his arms. "But I've always thought that it was stupid. If a participant couldn't protect his position, then they didn't deserve that spot anyway. Am I wrong?"

Bang shook his head at that, but didn't argue any further. "So Zombieman, what did you see? Did Saitama do well?"

"Sure did," the pale hero said, smiling. "No doubt because of his wonderful coach."

"Coach?" Fubuki asked. Something was off about this.

"Now those are legal," Bomb said. "But unusual."

"Was it required this year, Saitama?" Bang asked.

"Er… no…"

"Did you bring your own?" Child Emperor suggested.

"No… not really," the baldy replied, clearly uncomfortable. For a moment, Saitama glanced at Tatsumaki. The esper met his gaze, not wanting to say anything.

And in an instant, Fubuki slammed the table. She pointed a finger at Saitama.

"We all know you don't need a coach!" she accused. She shifted her body towards her older sister. "And I caught you in a damn qipao! You coached him, didn't you! Just so you could stick by, ring-side!"

Tatsumaki could practically feel the steam rising from her ears. Her heart hammered.

"Master and Tornado put on a show for the crowd," Genos added, confirming the young esper's hunch. "Through a series of badly-acted displays of affection."

"Th-They offered us money to do it!" Tatsumaki said, anxious to explain herself. "On top of the tournament winnings!"

"That so?" Zombieman raised an eyebrow at her. "Y'know, I was half-convinced that I was just seeing things. After all, Saitama here was in a wig. And I know you wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything so revealing. But you used your powers and gave the game away."

"You, what?!" Fubuki blinked several times.

"You didn't really give much of anything away to the interviewers, miss coach," Zombieman continued. "'Cept that you two were friends."

"Oho!" Bang chuckled at the statement. His brother let out an amused exhale through his nose.

Child Emperor rolled his eyes.

Fubuki wanted to slam her palm into her forehead.

"B-But… we are!" Tatsumaki turned to Saitama. "Tell them!"

The baldy, who had remained silent for the whole ordeal, quickly nodded. He felt that any words that escaped his mouth would give his complete embarrassment away.

Tatsumaki, realizing that she would get no meaningful support from the baldy, decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Oh look," she said, angrily pointing to the stove and nabe in front of her. "Food's ready!"

Her finger glowed green. And soup exploded into the air.

.

Around normal people, the little exploding soup trick would have been a recipe for burnt skin and empty stomachs, but the table was not filled with normal people. Far, far from it. With several of the world's strongest heroes in attendance, the threat was child's play — literally.

The youngest hero in attendance was one of the first to react. Pressing a button on his handmade watch, he formed a metal shield around him and was able to stop the tidal wave of hot pot from reaching him — as well as Zombieman, who sat behind him.

Using deft control of their chopsticks, Bang and Bomb were able to pick out their preferred foods — veggies and pork — and place them safely into their bowls. Their hands, calloused as they were, barely felt any heat as they blocked the boiling soup.

Fubuki had panicked and formed a psychic sphere around the hot pot, but just a little too late. She would've been splashed with soup if it weren't for Tatsumaki's barrier — despite her anger, she still made sure to protect her little sis.

Genos was not on that list of priorities. But he was heat-proof, as well as liquid-proof. And in the state he was in, he considered moving a waste of energy. As such, he took the full force of his side of the hot pot explosion. A bit more, in fact, since the soup that slammed into Child Emperor's shield had been more-or-less deflected onto him. What a waste of perfectly good food.

"AAAAA!" And Saitama was just too worried about his flooring and appliances to really do anything about anything. He was doused in deliciousness.

.

The situation had been handled, so to speak, and the other heroes took it as a simple warning that the temperamental esper would have no more of the teasing. The broth was quickly refilled, and Saitama's fridge had been pillaged to replace any ingredients that might have been wasted.

As was the natural progression of such a large group, the chatter broke off into smaller crowds — all the while with the simmering hot pot to sate their appetite.

.

Fubuki had a natural instinct to network. As such, she chose to introduce herself to the unfamiliar old man that tagged along with Bang. From the matching outfits, age, and demeanor, it wasn't that hard to start some small talk.

"Excuse me sir." Fubuki cleared her throat. "Ehrm. Are you related to Sir Silverfang?"

"I'm this brat's older brother, yes," Bomb replied, ruffling Bang's hair. "And I suppose you're the younger sister of the green-haired girl, yes?"

"O-Oh, I am!" Fubuki nodded. "Most people actually think I'm the older one, heh."

"Impossible!" Bomb laughed. "The way you carry yourself — it lacks the confidence a senior sibling would have," he said simply.

"Confidence?" Fubuki muttered. "Do you… think I lack it?"

Bomb sighed and shook his head. "My, you're much too quick to doubt yourself. I didn't say that at all."

Placing a hand on his beard, Bomb closed his eyes.

"Hmm, how do I put this…" he mused. "It is my belief that each sibling is given a blessing and curse. The older the sibling, the more responsibility is placed upon them. This gives them confidence and drive, but it comes at the cost of freedom.

"On the contrary, the younger the sibling, the more liberty they have. It comes with more paths to take, and lacks the rigidity expected of older siblings. However, it comes at the cost of restraint. Bad choices are easier to make."

Fubuki nodded slowly, taking the old man's words in.

"I… I see."

"That's not to say you've made bad choices," Bomb said, trying to clear up any misunderstandings that might have occured. "And I'm not implying it's true for everyone."

Fubuki shook her head. "No, no. Thank you. That was very enlightening."

Much to Bomb's surprise, the young esper brought out a notebook and began writing things down.

.

Bang was chatting with his fellow S-Class heroes. He had been uncontactable for as long as he had his search for Garou, so he was eager to be updated in the goings-on in the Hero Association.

"Apparently there was an attack in the H.Q. earlier today," Zombieman said. "But Darkshine was able to handle the situation."

"I heard an executive was shot," Child Emperor said.

"What?!" Bang's eyes widened.

"From what I heard, he—" the pale hero began, but bit his words back. "No, it's a real shame. May he rest peacefully."

"You were going to say something, Mister Zombieman?" the youngest hero asked.

"Just a cynic's thoughts," he said, waving the question away. "Don't mind me."

"Okay…" Child Emperor pouted, clearly disliking being left in the dark about matters.

Zombieman rubbed the boy's hair — oddly, at the same time Bang was pulled aside and noogied by Bomb.

"What of Tornado?" Bang asked as soon as he was let go, fixing his hair angrily.

"What of her?" Zombieman shot back.

"Even before I left to look for Garou, I'd heard she had been refusing hero work."

"I noticed that, too," Child Emperor said.

"Little miss sunshine? Ditching work?" Zombieman tilted his head. "That's the first I've heard of it."

"I'm sure you were busy with other matters, Mister Zombieman," the boy said. "But it's true."

"Tornado busied herself with interviews," Genos noted. "Perhaps that is a factor to consider."

"Or a symptom," Bang said. "But just today, she seemed to be back in full form."

Child Emperor considered whether to fill them in on what he'd seen before Tatsumaki had entered the battle — her falling while on their way to the scene, then freezing up when she came face-to-face with Elder Centipede. But…

"I think she's fine now," the boy said.

"She has sensei, after all," Zombieman said, smiling. "They seem to be a good pair."

"I can't believe they aren't dating," Child Emperor muttered.

"Ain't a chance they aren't!" Zombieman said in disbelief. "Who told you that?"

"Mister Saitama," the boy replied. "Just earlier today."

Bang placed a hand tiredly on his face. "I'd imagine affection is a terribly difficult matter for the two of them."

"Tatsumaki really isn't the… social type," Zombieman figured. "And sensei is—"

"Would you stop calling Master Saitama, 'sensei!'" Genos blurted. "Do you wish to study under him as well?! I'll have you know he has enough on his plate trying to deal with that green-haired brat over there!"

Zombieman raised his hands up to his shoulders. "Whoa, whoa! I'm not about to steal your master from you, don't worry! Do you think I call Tatsumaki little miss sunshine because she's a ball of joy?"

"No. Tornado is a she-witch."

"Er, I wouldn't go that far, but yeah. I don't mean it when I say 'sensei,' I just want to have something specific to associate people with," Zombieman explained. "Works wonders if you want to seem like you remember everyone you meet."

"I see," Genos said. He had an urge to pull out his notebook, but figured a matter of memory would be served better by simply trying it.

The cyborg pointed to Zombieman. "Stabbed back."

Genos pointed to Child Emperor. "Backpack."

Genos' finger landed on Bang. "Bad back."

He was met with silence for a few moments.

"Er…" Zombieman smiled, not sure if the blond hero was joking. "Maybe… practice a little more, yeah?"

"Were they not accurate?"

"No, no, they were. But…"

"They sucked." Child Emperor finished Zombieman's sentence for him. "I'm not even wearing my backpack right now…"

"Very well," Genos said, unperturbed by the criticism. "I will try again."

Bang placed a hand on the cyborg's arm. "Please don't."

.

All the chatter left a certain pair of heroes to talk between themselves.

"Is your arm okay?" Saitama asked.

"I've been eating with it, kinda," she said, guiltily using her powers to dry the bald hero's clothes.

"If it's hard, you can ask for help, you know."

"Oh yeah? Should I say 'ahh' while you feed me, Saitama?" Tatsumaki smirked.

"Wha— no, I was going to ask Fubuki to—"

"It was a joke, dummy," the esper said, rolling her eyes disappointedly. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with someone so dense."

Almost by some cosmically bad timing — though it was more likely that her arm was, in fact, not as fine as she thought — as soon as Tatsumaki went to take a bite, her soup spoon slipped from her grasp.

"Ah—!"

But Saitama caught it.

Not a drop had spilled.

He held it to her mouth. "You don't need to say 'ahh,'" he said.

So she didn't.

For some reason, the warmth of the single, small sip seemed to spread all across her body.

The baldy's head pats didn't help matters much, either.

.

.

"I just got word from the Hero Association that they plan to raid the Monster Association in two days' time," Zombieman said. "That's good. Gives us time to recuperate and plan our attack out."

Now that the chatter had died down — and the hot pot nearly emptied — the pale hero decided now was the best time to bring the group back to reality.

"I'd rather we just rush in and get it done now," Tatsumaki grumbled. "If they're under Saitama's place, then it's basically pest removal. I can bury them right now."

Child Emperor shook his head. "The monsters have a hostage — a sponsor's son that they kidnapped during the attack," he said. "The moment we find him and bring him out of their hideout, that's when you can destroy everything."

"But before that," Zombieman raised a finger. "We act according to the Association's plans. Fighting skills aside, we don't really know the stakes here. We don't know much of anything, really."

"Except they have an esper on their side," Tatsumaki muttered. "A strong one."

The temperature seemed to drop five degrees.

"What…?" Fubuki frowned. "How do you know that?"

"They had the gall to contact me," the older esper said. "A remote-controlled meat puppet sent to taunt me."

"Or analyze your strength," Zombieman said darkly. "So that's what the attacks were for."

"A preemptive strike to test the waters." Child Emperor quickly caught on to what the pale hero was implying.

Tatsumaki growled. "Why would we give them prep time, then?!"

Fubuki nodded. For once, the sisters were in agreement. "We barely need preparation on our end. All we need is to gather heroes and relay the objectives to them. Who knows how much more the Monster Association would benefit from it!"

It was clear to everyone that Fubuki looked a little frazzled. As if by instinct, the young esper turned to look at her older sister. Under the table, Tatsumaki gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"We have to make sure our foundations are rooted solidly — assure our team has no double agents, try to get as much information as we can by tomorrow, make plans based on that information," Zombieman said, trying to reassure the B-Class. "And that'll take time. It isn't as simple as gathering strong heroes and attacking with all our might. At least one child's life is on the line. Who knows if they've captured any more."

The heroes clearly felt the weight of those words; a silence settled, heavier than before.

It was a harsh truth to bring to them, Zombieman knew. Not to mention a sure source of friction between the heroes who prioritized passion before planning. Everyone's goals were the same, of course, but a little pragmatism was sure to come off a little heartless on his end. There really was nothing to do about it, however, since he firmly believed in raising the chances of winning no matter the cost.

Thankfully, nobody seemed dissenting enough to argue with him. That, or they were simply too hungry to care. It had been a long day for the group, he was sure. News of Elder Centipede's defeat had spread quickly, and no doubt — at least just looking at Genos and the two weary martial artists — that it had been a struggle.

"I'll see what I can do about intel," Zombieman said. "Maybe I can get enough to push our deadline a little forwar—"

"No," Child Emperor said. "It was the Monster Association who set the date, right?"

Zombieman blinked, then nodded slowly.

"We have no indication that they intend to keep their promise to keep the child safe, but I guarantee they'll kill him if we break the agreement," the young hero said. "We're on the back foot here, and their terms are law."

"Just info-gathering it is, then," Zombieman corrected himself. "You heard the kid. It really isn't an option."

"Got it," Tatsumaki said.

"All this worrying will get us nowhere," Bang said. "We have been given time today to rest, so let us use it to rest."

The others nodded, and the old man stood up.

"With that, I'll take my leave," he said. "I've been gone so long; my dojo needs some old-fashioned cleaning."

Bomb followed suit, picking up Bang's small stove and packed it back into his bag. "I will be going, too. It was nice to meet you all."

The group said their farewells and watched the two martial artists put on their shoes and leave.

.

Child Emperor yawned and stood up, stretching. "I missed cram school for this," he muttered. "I think I need to do some reviewing before I hit the hay."

"You taking the train?" Zombieman said, getting up as well.

"My fuel's nearly run out," the boy said. "So yeah. Probably."

"Then I'll go with," the pale hero replied. "All stations lead to A-City, anyway."

"Do you have matters to attend to at the H.Q., Mister Zombieman?"

"Yep."

Child Emperor nodded, assured that Zombieman wasn't going out of the way for him. "Let's go then."

And another set of guests was off.

But not before bumping into a figure by the door.

"Uh, hello," Zombieman said, not quite sure what he was looking at.

Child Emperor, shrugging his backpack on, eyed the figure hesitantly. It was a battle suit. And a powerful one, by the looks of it. Instead of a helmet, the top of the armor was occupied by a large, black orb. It concealed the face of whoever was inside.

That was never a good sign.

Saitama stood up, unsure of what was going on.

The figure held out a hand to shake Zombieman's.

"No way, pal," the pale hero said. "Not 'til you show us your mug."

"AH. MY APOLOGIES." A robotic voice echoed through the hall. But it was quickly replaced with a softer tone. Older, too. "I'm here for Genos."

The orb faded, and revealed—

"Doctor Kuseno!" the cyborg stood, immediately limping to the mushroom-looking old man.

"Ah, Genos, you had just gotten your repairs," the doctor looked at his foster son's sorry state and shook his head. "Oh, what am I to do with you?"

"Er," Zombieman didn't quite know what to do. "I'll leave it to you guys, then. C'mon, Isamu."

"Ah, goodbye!" Kuseno said, raising a hand in farewell. "Apologies for the interruption… ah, they're gone."

The two guests who left were replaced by the doctor. His suit deconstructed into a fancy-looking suitcase. He left his shoes on, however, and made no move to enter Saitama's abode.

"We should get going," Kuseno said. "I didn't want to have to use the latest armor, but it seems we have no choice."

"I have never been against it," Genos said.

"I know, I know," the doctor said tiredly. "Either way, we need to work fast. Who knows how much longer you can last with the damage you took…"

"So you're the doctor Genos has always been talking about," Saitama said, walking up to them. "Thanks for patching him up all the time."

"And I've heard all about you, Saitama," Kuseno smiled, bowing. "The pleasure is mine. Thank you for teaching him thus far."

Saitama scratched his head. "Ah, heh. It's nothing…"

"It really is nothing!" Tatsumaki called from afar.

"Oops! Don't mind her, haha!" the baldy said through gritted teeth.

Kuseno laughed. "Don't you worry, I've heard all about Miss Tornado, too. Genos has recounted your sudden appearance in Saitama's life many-a-time. I'd like to say I'm very much updated with you two, strange as it might sound."

"Hunh?!" the green-haired esper stood up. "What did he say about me?!"

"Er, many things," the doctor said, not willing to look the esper's way. "But let us not get into that now. Come, Genos, let's go."

"Yes, doctor."

Putting the battle suit back on and supporting Genos with his arm, the doctor gave one last wave goodbye before shutting the door behind him.

.

Tatsumaki sat down, huffing.

"Don't worry, sis," Fubuki said, trying to be reassuring. "I'm sure… well… no, I'm not. But maybe Genos— well. Hmm."

"Wow. Thanks a bunch."

"Genos respects you," Saitama said, walking back to the suddenly empty-feeling room. "In his own way."

"Yeah, yeah, you two can cut the crap," Tatsumaki said, letting herself fall onto the floor. "I'm too tired to even care."

"Do you need some energy?" Fubuki asked. "I can try using my powers again."

"Nah," the older esper closed her eyes contentedly. "None of that reinvigorating junk. I just really want to sleep right now."

"Sis, you can't possibly insist on—"

Saitama tossed Fubuki a futon. "That should be big enough for the both of you."

"I… I'm not staying over, Saitama," Fubuki said, crumpling the fabric in her hands. "I have some Blizzard Group matters to attend to."

The raven-haired esper tried to shake her sister awake, but the girl wouldn't budge.

"Be reasonable," Fubuki complained. This kind of insistent clinginess was exactly what she had talked to Saitama about. "Sis…"

But Tatsumaki had already fallen into a shallow slumber.

"It's fine, Fubuki," the bald man said. "She's been through a lot today."

"But you…" the young esper complained. "You need rest, too. Spending all day having to manage my sister is… not sustainable. Especially not with what you told me. Stuff like this needs real deep thought. And definitely not in the company of the interested party."

Saitama flinched at that — the biggest reaction the young esper had really seen out of him.

"I can take her back to the Blizzard Group," Fubuki offered, kneeling beside her sister. "To help get your thoughts settled."

As much as she wanted to believe that the two could talk it out themselves… Fubuki wanted to talk to Tatsumaki, too. Her older sister was far from an expert in relationships — and to be honest, she was no better herself. Maybe someone in her team could help. Anything to get her up to speed in terms of self-awareness and preparing for what was to come.

It was more than clear that Tatsumaki was letting her feelings lead the way, and despite how sweet it was to hear that the green-haired girl had opened her heart to someone, that wasn't the surefire way to go about things.

Foundations, as Zombieman said, were important.

And Tatsumaki had simply not been able to build those.

Fubuki placed her arms below her sister, getting ready to carry her outside.

But she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks for the offer, Fubuki," Saitama said. "But I have a promise to keep."

That sounded… less ominous than the young esper thought it would.

"Tell me, Saitama," Fubuki said quietly, turning her head to the baldy. "What is my sister to you?"

Saitama stood still, looking at Tatsumaki's sleeping form. The exhaustion on her face was even clearer now. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her breaths were shuddering. It was as if all the stressors of the day had finally caught up to her.

He wanted to reach out to her, but…

"Answer me," Fubuki demanded.

Maybe he wasn't the best person to ease her pain. After all, the girl who had been with Tatsumaki her whole life was there, and more than willing to get Tatsumaki out of his hands.

'What is my sister to you?'

He truly had no satisfactory answer to give the young esper. And, the more that he gave the matter any thought, he realized he had no answer to give Tatsumaki, either.

Being friends was one thing. But…

The esper's lips seemed to never have left his.

He may well have not deserved it. Despite all his reflection and acknowledgement of both of their feelings, the sense of distance was still there. She was her. And he was just him.

Still… it wouldn't be right to answer Fubuki's question the same way he did before. Certain feelings were real, and it didn't matter if he considered himself deserving or not.

"Tatsumaki is someone I want to protect," Saitama said. "Even if she can protect herself."

"Thank you, Saitama the hero, for answering," Fubuki said, unimpressed. "Now pass the mic to Saitama, the person."

The young esper may have said it in jest, but the bald man felt a spotlight shone upon him. It was heavy. And bright. And made his throat catch.

What was she to him?

Not as a colleague. Not as an inspiration or a goal to work towards. Not as someone who he wanted to protect.

As a person. As someone who had spent his days idly chatting with her. Sharing time. Sharing comfort.

.

"I… want to know what she is to me, too," Saitama said. "Because I really don't know."

"Huh?"

"Tatsumaki gets angry at me for no reason. She teases and insults me and… and starts arguments. Fights, even," Saitama said, frowning. "Sometimes I get why people avoid her. Why people have such a hard time understanding her. I say she's my friend, but I can't even explain half the things she does!"

Fubuki looked to the floor. It seemed that her sister had gotten way in over her own head. Caught feelings for a hero that simply tolerated her, misconstruing patience with affection.

"I see," Fubuki whispered. She wanted to prepare her sister to handle her feelings the best she could, but if a straight-up rejection was on its way, all she could do was plead for the baldy to let her down gently. "Saitama, please don't—"

"But even an idiot like me who can't understand her — can see that she cares. Really, really cares," the baldy said. Warm memories bubbled up to the surface, more than he could count. "She's more than what everyone makes her out to be. And… I'm thankful that she lets me see that side of her."

He held his heart, trying to stop it from beating out of his chest.

"So I feel that if we talk… just one more time…" Saitama said. "I'll figure out what she is… what she means… to me."

A long silence filled the room. The low humming of the air conditioner and buzzing of the fluorescent lights took over the space. Manga, curtains, papers — and now spilled soup and food — littered the small square that was Saitama's apartment. It was only now that the baldy realized how uncomfortable the environment was.

"Way to avoid the question," Fubuki muttered, standing up. "But it'll do… for now. And it saves me the headache of looking after her, anyway."

The young esper's footsteps padded softly on the floor. The muffled steps turned into sharp clicks as she put on her shoes.

"Good luck, Saitama," she said quietly.

The door shut behind her.

.

Saitama let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His mind felt hazy.

Dully, he wondered if Genos' habit of losing himself doing monotonous tasks was as meditative as it seemed.

There really was only one way to find out.

.

.

Well, that was fast! What happened to ol', slow updatin' Bonfireboy?!

Nothing much. He's still very much here. It's just a good thing he loves writing fluff and chaos. This chapter was an absolute blast to write and flesh out! So many interactions that will probably be paid off in the future, eheheh. There were a lot of things that changed from canon — a certain hero's absence being one of them. But I figured any more characters (as well as a smidge of conflict, wink wink) would bloat this chapter more than it already is.

I tried a new writing style in this one, after reading a particularly AMAZING fic. Apologies if the shift was jarring, but I do think it meshes pretty well with the amount of things I'm thinking while writing.

What else, what else… oh! There have been a bunch of little details I've been littering here and there (such as Tatsumaki avoiding hospitals, or fighting Lesser Centipedes and all that), and I figured revealing a couple more unimportant details would be fun!

Here's one: Tats has stopped calling Saitama a certain insulting nickname. Here's another: a bunch of my chapter names are connected to each other, this current one very particularly so. And last: I may or may not have meant to do it, but I left a little innuendo in 'A Mess of a Morning,' oops!

I'm pretty sure next chapter will take a while, so I leave it to YOU GUYS to hit me with your explanations or guesses about these three tidbits and leave a message/review (though don't forget to leave your thoughts on this chapter, too! PRETTY PLEASE!)!

As a little incentive, I'll give a prize to whoever is able to figure these things out! I have no clue what the prize will be, but I PROMISE you'll get one! (Some old chapter drafts? A doodle or two? Some… extra content?)

I'M ABSOLUTELY RAMBLING NOW, SO UHHH. BYE.

-bb