~Three years ago~
“What the fuck is this piece of shit?”
An older man wearing a plain t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers with brushed-down deep purple hair stood before what looked like an abandoned building with his hands on his waist. Sharp violet eyes roamed the exterior noting the obvious lack of maintenance with a shake of his head. It was par for the course really since literally every other building in the area was actually abandoned and for years at that.
Though what did he expect from the City Z Ghost Town?
"Well, no use crying about it now,” he hefted his traveling bags and ascended the stairs to find his room.
Along the way just as he predicted the signs of abandonment were very present as he passed by the room doors. All except for one that looked like it was inhabited judging by the lack of dust pooling at the door. He made a mental note of this but otherwise ignored that tidbit to focus on his own room. Retrieving the key he opened the door and wrinkled his nose at the sight and smell that greeted him. Thankfully the previous tenant didn’t leave too much a mess for him to clean up.
He spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment to make it habitable again. During this time he noted that for a place that had been abandoned for years now it was still in relatively good condition. Really the hardest thing he had to do in regards to cleaning was getting rid of some pests via fumigation. He didn’t need to replace the windows or pipes, repaint the walls and the power, water and gas lines work just fine.
The good thing about a world where monsters attacks are prevalent is that the infrastructure was made to last.
‘No wonder the place is being called a squatter’s paradise.’
This bit of good fortune would continue for when he went out shopping for furniture and groceries. He managed to find a convenience store with some used appliances in good condition and got himself a TV, laptop, fan and a few kitchen appliances for a good price. Speaking of prices, he found the local market and managed to get some grocery shopping done.
It was during this time that he came across a young man wearing a tracksuit and looking exhausted. He too was shopping but also haggling to get the most for the least amount of money spent. Tomoro remembered thinking that he could respect the young man’s economic approach.
On his way back it just so happen that he and the young man coincidentally took the same route. Then they both ended up in the abandoned district which was a little more than mere coincidence. Finally it was when they both ended up at the same apartment building that they finally chose to acknowledge each other.
“You live here too?”
“Yeah I moved in today actually.”
“Oh, okay. I’m Saitama”
“Tomoro”
And that was the day Tomoro met Saitama.
~Present Day~
“Wait-wait-wait, so you punched a meteor into dust?”
The incredulity in Tomoro’s voice was plain as day and Saitama answered with that same blank face and laidback tone.
“Yep, I didn’t even mean to do that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You didn’t mean to destroy a meteor?”
“I meant I didn’t think I put enough effort to destroy it that badly,” he retorted, looking at his clenched fist "I guess I didn’t realize it.”
“Then what did you ‘mean’ to happen?” Tomoro air quoted
Saitama shrugged “dunno, the thing would explode into a bunch of falling rocks I guess?”
“Explode into a bunch of falling rocks,” Tomoro repeated in a tone as blank as Saitama’s face. “You do realize that the meteor measures 6 to 9 on the Torino scale, right?”
At Saitama’s blank face, Tomoro nodded.
“Hey Genos can you explain to Saitama what would happen if a meteor of that size falling at terminal velocity were to suddenly explode into a bunch of falling rocks in the middle of a major metropolitan area?”
Genos, being the dutiful cyborg that he was, answered the question, “If what Master Saitama said were to occur then the resulting explosion would have resulted in a meteor shower. While the destruction would pale in comparison to if the meteor collided with City Z as a whole the destruction from the meteor shower would hinder the city’s economy. Businesses would shut down, collateral damage would be high and the hospital would most likely be filled with injured civilians caught up in the storm. Furthermore the possible death toll would be-”
"Okay, I get it already; stop!” Saitama interrupted loudly before clicking his tongue, giving Tomoro the stink eye. “Whatever, that didn’t happen. I stopped the meteor and my ranking went up!”
“Is that so?”
"Correct,” Genos interrupted with pride, “Master Saitama’s rank went from 6th to 5th place in the S-Class ranking.”
Despite the achievement, Saitama didn’t seem particularly moved by this accomplishment.
‘I guess when you’re in S-Class the rankings don’t really mean much.’
“What about you Genos?”
“I was promoted to 16th place.”
Tomoro stayed for a bit afterwards engaging in small talk with the two before eventually turning in for the night.
~Three Years Ago~
It’s been a couple of days since he moved into the so-called ‘Ghost Town’ of City Z and he was just about done with the transitioning phase. The foreign apartment was feeling homier by the day and he’d gotten a good sense of his surroundings. Now it doesn’t feel too weird having to slip by a chain link fence and warning signs every time he went out. And don’t even get him started on the empty streets at night. Granted, he wasn’t fearful of anything, but the place got creepy.
Currently, Tomoro had created a portfolio and was looking for prospective jobs to help support himself. Since he doesn’t have to pay for rent or utilities he could survive months on his savings alone but he’d rather not tap into that well too much. His search was still ongoing with there not being any jobs that caught his eye. Despite the setback Tomoro was confident in his credentials to land him a proper job.
At least that’s what he thought until he bombed the interview for a position in a company he had his eye on.
Tomoro took the rejection as well as he could since afterwards he went to the cheapest bar and decided to drink his frustrations away along with the other guys who didn’t make it. Hours later his pristine suit was wrinkled, his tie was loose and his breath smelled like alcohol. He wasn’t drunk though; oh, he wasn’t so shook up about the rejection and there are other jobs lined up out there for the taking.
He just needed to figure out what happened during this interview and fix it.
“What the hell did I do wrong?”
Just thinking about it was aggravating because Tomoro didn’t think he did anything wrong here. His resume was up to snuff; he presented himself as a professional, and he answered all the questions in a clear and concise manner. There was no margin for error on his part, so he could only assume that someone else had better qualifications or that it was another unforeseen factor.
If it was the former, then it is nothing more than bad luck, but if it was something else,
“Hm?” Tomoro paused as he saw someone hobbling along the road occasionally bracing the wall to walk on wobbly feet.
“Damn it,” the man grunted.
It just so happened that Tomoro knew this person, "Saitama.”
Said man turned “oh hey, it’s you.”
Without preamble, Tomoro slung the man’s hand over his shoulder and began to escort him home.
“So what happened to you?”
“Overdid training today.”
“Training? What are you some kind of athlete?” Tomoro spoke with a smirk.
Saitama scoffed, “no, I’m going to be a hero.”
“You’re training to be a hero?”
“Yeah, got a problem with that?”
“Why would I when you’re so passionate about it? I’m guessing that’s what you’ve been doing for the past couple days since I moved in.”
“Three months actually.”
Tomoro whistled, “that must be some training." They made it to the apartment about to climb up the stairs. “I don’t know what kind of intense stuff you’ve been doing but I think you should take a break for now.”
"Can't,” Saitama declined, “has to be this intense if I want to fight monsters. Don’t want to end up like last time.”
The two stopped at his door “what happened last time?”
“Long story short some kid pissed off a crab monster so I had to save him” he spoke while reaching for his keys but his hands were shaking too much.
“Sounds like some story,” he said, steadied Saitama’s hand, and helped him open the door.
After getting the man to his futon, Saitama’s stomach suddenly growled, to which he attempted and failed to get up.
“Don’t even try to move. You really overdid your ‘training’ there Saitama.”
“I need to eat,” he attempted to sit up with obvious discomfort.
Tomoro pushed him down with a single finger “why don’t you let me take care of that?”
“Why?”
“Think of it as my good deed for the week" Tomoro replied sarcastically, “now what do you have?”
“H-hey…” He tried to get up again but froze at the look Tomoro gave him.
“Shut up and lay down.”
In lieu of his position and the fact that someone was offering to make dinner for him, Saitama decided to comply.
Tomoro found the kitchen and, after a quick search, was disappointed to find a lack of food items “when’s the last time you went out for groceries?”
“There should be something in the fridge.”
“If by 'something’ you mean instant noodles, then no." Tomoro shot down before heading for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going back to my place for some real food. If you’re going to do intense training, you should have a proper diet for it.”
As he left through the door, Saitama couldn’t help but think out loud, “whatever you say mom.”
Tomoro’s head suddenly poked into frame with a glare “what was that?”
“Nothing!”
Tomoro’s sharp eyes narrowed before he left out of view, and this time Saitama kept his mouth shut.
After Tomoro prepared dinner for the two of them, Saitama had recovered enough to feed himself. The two sat down to enjoy the food and have an intelligent conversation.
“So you part of the Yakuza or something?”
Psyche!
“No, why would you even think that?”
Saitama stared “well, it’s just that you look like you’re in a gang.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah you do.”
Tomoro’s brows furrowed ‘what the heck is he talking about?’
In an uncharacteristic moment of self-consciousness, he changed the subject “what were you even doing to end up straining your body to the point where you can barely move?”
“Strength training”
“What kind of strength training?”
“100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10km run.”
Tomoro chewed his food before speaking, “that’s hardcore. How often do you do it?”
“Every day”
“Every day?”
"Every single day.”
“You take breaks after every set?”
“No”
“…”
Tomoro hummed, chewed some more and swallowed before speaking “Saitama, do you have a death wish?”
“Huh?”
“Or are you just a masochist?”
It might be the insinuation, or maybe it’s the tone he said it in that set the younger man off, but either way he didn’t like it.
“Where's this coming from!?”
“I’m sorry it’s just that when you’re doing intense exercises it's best to pace yourself. If you’re just going to do intense training without keeping stock of your body’s condition, you might end up having some unfortunate side effects.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno,” he scoffed “you could like, go prematurely bald or something.”
A look of horror briefly overcame Saitama’s expression before he waved him off “like that would ever happen.”
Tomoro gave the younger man a strange look even as he ate.
“Yeah, what are the chances of that?”
They finished up dinner, and Tomoro volunteered to clean up, giving Saitama the chance for some well-deserved rest. He got back home and took a bath, and right when he was brushing his teeth, his thoughts went back to Saitama’s words.
"Well, it’s just that you look like you’re in a gang,”
Tomoro scoffed and spat out the toothpaste with a scowl. ‘The nerve of that guy saying I look like some kind of gangster.’
Tomoro paused, having caught his scowling visage in the mirror. Tomoro’s hair was styled in a way that his bangs obscured his eyes so he doesn’t have a good mental picture of his appearance without it. Sure he has seen his face; in fact he styled his somewhat unruly hair so that his eyes were more visible but now…
‘Wait’
His mind went back to the interview he had. The looks on the interviewers’ faces, and even going through everyone he’d ever met before.
‘That can’t be it?’
Quickly, Tomoro swept his hair back the same way he chose to style it this morning, sans the gel. He imagined himself in his suite this morning and set his expression in a neutral frown. At least he thought it was neutral, but even Tomoro could admit that his face had a ‘thuggish’ quality to it. Combined that with his suit and his natural hair that could be mistaken as dyed and he came to a conclusion.
“I look like a stereotypical yakuza wannabe,” the realization made him slump over the sink. “No wonder they didn’t hire me!”
With trembling fingers, Tomoro raised his head to the sky and screamed.
“D-DAMMIT!!!”
~Present Day~
Tomoro caught himself looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror of the company. As he went outside there was a crowd gathered with eyes on the TV.
“What’s happening now?”
“There’s a monster invasion in City J.”
“There’s an A-Class hero fighting them.”
“By himself?” Tomoro muttered as he looked closer at the screen to see a hero in black holding a spear being surrounded by marine-type monsters.
It would seem that the hero who was identified as the A-Class hero Stinger and as he thought he was taking on the invading monsters by himself and apparently winning against all odds.
The faint sound of rumbling reached his ears and Tomoro’s gaze found the nearest window to find dark clouds gathering in the horizon.
“Looks like there’s a storm coming.”
“Really?” someone near him spoke before he too looked out the window “ah damn I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
This caught a few more people nearby as they made their comment.
"Hey can you give me a ride?”
“Eh? No way~”
Tomoro had long since left his chattering coworkers to sit at his desk. Even as he continued to work, ignoring the news and everyone else, Tomoro had a contemplative look on his face.
‘Won’t be long after this’
~Three Years Ago~
“So this is what they call the Clark Kent effect.”
Tomoro was in his bathroom having returned home after getting his hair cut at a barbershop but not before stopping at the convenience store. He came home with not only a brand new hairstyle but a special pair of non-prescribed spectacles. The lenses work like a pseudo-one-way mirror made to look like a reflective glare so most times the wearer’s eyes can’t be seen.
The result of these two things combined to create what he termed the Clark Kent Effect. This is a phenomenon where a person can disguise who they are and completely change someone’s perception of them through the power of a simple pair of clear glasses. Of course there’s more to it than that and he’d need to change his mannerisms, posture and such to sell the idea of a mild mannered office worker but so far he can see a stark difference between himself with and without the glasses.
The first thought that came to mind when he wore the damn thing was “I look like a nerd. But I guess that’s the point.”
Nerds are non-threatening, easily approachable and can be trusted, at least more so than Yakuza wannabes. This whole situation came following Tomoro’s discovery of his unwitting likeness to said Yakuza wannabes. He’s tried and failed multiple job interviews for no other reasons than the interviewers thought he would be a flight risk for their company in some way.
It wasn’t even just his appearance either but certain background information about him were sketchy. Tomoro wasn’t exactly your typical citizen, he didn’t attend any schools and he only recently managed to earn a GED. Not that such a thing was rare considering how fucked the world is. That is especially for the case of those living outside the city. Companies are willing to give displaced civilians who earned their diplomas the benefit of the doubt.
In Tomoro’s case he has gotten callbacks from most companies he applied to work at but whenever they get to interview him they always turn him down. At one point security thought he was affiliated with the local crime family and said the crime family even mistook him for one of their members. It was the most ridiculous set of circumstances he’s ever been involved in.
The whole point of changing his appearance was to make it so that the interviewer didn’t need to scrutinize his background. Hence his attempts at looking professional for job interviews. That and also one interviewer straight up told him that he doesn’t look the part of a corporate professional.
That’s when he knew this needed some drastic attention. If he was going to find a job before his savings ran out, then his appearance needed a complete overhaul. After a few weeks of trying and failing to minimize the effect of his appearance and maximize his professionalism he was down to two options. Since he was unwilling to do plastic surgery this was his best bet, and oh the irony, because he got it from watching a TV drama.
Well through whatever cosmic irony it actually seemed to work or at least it did a pretty good job of it. Now he just needed to test it out. A moment after these thoughts he heard some knocking at the door.
"Ask and ye shall receive,” he mumbled, making his way towards the door.
He opened the door to find Saitama. He was wearing the same tracksuit looking a little worse for wear but much better than when they first got acquainted after one of his sessions. Saitama blinked staring at Tomoro for a moment before he gained a confused look and glanced at the door before speaking.
“Oh sorry I got the wrong room.”
“It’s me you idiot” he said taking off the glasses.
This revelation was apparently so shocking it floored Saitama’s brain “eeeehhhhh? You look completely different now!”
‘At least the disguise works.’
He allowed Saitama inside.
‘Or maybe Saitama’s just dumb enough to fall for something so simple’
He’s known Saitama for over a month now. After Tomoro assisted him in their first meeting the two have built a rapport. Well actually Saitama has a tendency to mooch off of Tomoro every once in a while and Tomoro allows this for reasons. Also because they were the only two people living here so it would be foolish to not at least be friendly with each other.
Tomoro respects Saitama’s grind in how he tackles the hellish undertaking he set for himself. Saitama absolutely did not heed Tomoro’s warning about pacing himself and went ahead with keeping up his ludicrous training regimen every day without fail. So the first time he had to assist Saitama to his house wouldn’t the last. Because of the fallout from the training most times he wasn’t in the best shape to do part-time jobs or even take care of himself.
That’s where Tomoro comes in, basically acting as Saitama’s caretaker for which the younger man absolutely takes advantage of his generosity to mooch off of him. For Tomoro’s part he never fails to give an earful to the younger man who tends to ignore it which is annoying but the banter they have was something he secretly looked forward to.
He figured it was the same for the younger man as well.
“You finally got rid of the yakuza look; that’s awesome.”
“Oi, shut up about my look punk” he said with visible irritation.
"No but seriously you looked like a completely different person just then, wow.”
“You know if you keep talking I’ll show you some good ol’ Yakuza violence firsthand” he spoke while cracking his knuckles.
"Okay, I’ll stop now.”
Calming down with a huff Tomoro gave him a once over “how are you feeling?”
“Pretty good actually” Saitama smiled “I don’t feel too sore anymore.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think I’m getting used to it.”
“Did you take my advice?”
“Nope”
“Does that training even work?”
Saitama paused “uh well, I’m definitely stronger.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“You’ve never exercised before you started training so of course you’re going to be stronger. The question is if you think this will make you strong enough to fight monsters like you wanted. And even then how far are you going to take it? When do you plan to stop? How strong do you intend to be?”
Those were all valid questions which Saitama didn’t have an answer to as he sat there in contemplation.
“Something to think about” Tomoro finished before leaving him to make some dinner.
Tomoro never saw Saitama look at his fist with a determined expression.
Several Days Later
He’d finally done it!
It turns out that it really was his natural face that was sabotaging his job prospects.
But with his ‘disguise’ in place he was able to get a job at a small accounting firm. Not his first, second or third choice but beggars can’t be choosers. Tomoro’s good mood evaporated once he arrived on his street to find a most unwelcome sight.
“Saitama!”
The younger man was lying on the side of the road, looking like he had been mauled by a wild animal. His tracksuit was ripped and dirtied, his skin was bruised and damaged, and that wasn’t even mentioning the blood splotches.
“Dammit Saitama what the hell happened to you?”
He didn’t seem to be conscious.
He looked around for help but then realized they were in a ghost town. Neither of them had a cellphone which meant he would need to carry Saitama to the nearest hospital.
“Shit.”
He pressed his lips together ‘maybe I should-’
His thoughts are interrupted by sounds coming from the insensate man.
“…w…ks…”
“Hey I’m going to bring you to a hospital alright? What the hell happened?”
“Monster”
“You got attacked by a monster?”
Of course he did; monster sightings were the reasons why this place was abandoned after all. Frankly it was a miracle they didn’t encounter any for how long they’ve been living there.
Despite this Saitama started chuckling.
“You can laugh in a situation like this?” Tomoro felt like punching him.
“Yeah…” the punk replied with a grin and for the first time Tomoro could see his dark eyes; they had a fire in them he had not seen before, “because the training works.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You asked how I would know if my training works. So I found a monster, fought it and beat it.”
Tomoro stared at Saitama like the nut job he is “you went hunting for monsters?”
“A monster attacked me so I took care of it” he clarified
Now knowing that Saitama willingly risked his life fighting a monster just to prove a point made Tomoro feel a lot less frantic about his current condition.
Reap what you sow and all that.
“Took care of it, huh?” Tomoro replied dryly while giving him an once-over.
“Heh, you should see the other guy.”
"Oh, you’ve got jokes? I don’t suppose with you being injured is going to stop you from training tomorrow is it?”
Saitama’s smile was confident as he answered “HELL NO!”
Tomoro closed his eyes and smiled “nice answer.”
Then he started walking away, leaving Saitama confused.
“Eh? W-wait, where are you going?”
“I finally got a job, and I’m starting tomorrow so I won’t have any time to babysit you anymore.”
“You’re just going to leave!?”
“Think of it as practice for getting your stupid ass out of situations like this when I’m not around.”
“You’re heartless!”
“If you have energy to complain then you should be able to crawl your way back to your apartment." He raised his fist and spoke sarcastically “don’t give up; I’m rooting for you, Saitama.”
“You bastard!”
“I’m a ‘bastard’ now, huh? Well I guess this ‘bastard’ won’t share his leftovers anymore.”
“Wait, I take it back you’re not a bastard. Please help me!”
The older man looked over his shoulder, then with a smirk and thumbs up, replied, “fight on Saitama.”
The look on the young man’s face and the tirade he yelled at Tomoro’s back were the icing and cherry on top of this cake of a day.
~Present Day~
The incident in City J involving the group of monsters who identified themselves as ‘Sea Folk’ was resolved. Several heroes were beaten and sent to the hospital during this event by their leader, a monster calling itself the Deep Sea King. It was responsible for putting no less than eight heroes out of commission including three A-Class and two S-Class heroes. Genos happened to be one of the latter although the real reason for his loss was because he sacrificed himself to save a civilian.
Right as he was at the mercy of the monster the unthinkable happened as Mumen Rider arrived and saved Genos’ life. The C-Class hero managed to stall the monster long enough for Saitama to arrive and after acknowledging the efforts of Mumen Rider and all the other heroes dealt the finishing blow. A single punch that packed so much force it dispersed the rain clouds over City J. The incident was one of the most harrowing monster attacks in recent memory particularly because the monster managed to find the evacuation center and threatened the civilians.
It was also one of the major triumphs citizens witnessed firsthand the ordeals heroes have to go through to protect them. The danger most of them have to endure and the sacrifices they make risking life and limb to ensure their safety. Everyone had an opinion of course and he’d heard of one prick that tried to downplay the sacrifice of their actions and got clobbered.
‘I wish I could have seen it.’
“Mr. Sazaki”
“Hm?” Tomoro glanced at Genos, who had called him “what is it?”
“You were not responding to my earlier calls.”
The three were in Saitama’s apartment. The situation must have affected the bald man just as well because he had Genos invite Tomoro over for dinner and broke out the high-quality stuff he only saved for special occasions. He wasn’t sure why Saitama did this (he wasn’t sure why he did a lot of things), especially since his salary ensured that he could eat the good stuff every day for every meal.
“Sorry about that; I was just thinking.”
“What about?” Saitama questioned, if only as a generic reply to spark a conversation.
“How life would have been if I wasn’t around to babysit your inept ass all the time.”
The look Saitama gave him wouldn’t have been out of place in an overly masculine shonen manga “oi, you’re saying a lot of interesting things there, shitty glasses.”
Tomoro smirked as his fingers adjusted his glasses “oh-ho are you denying it, caped baldy?”
As Saitama started defending himself Genos was taking notes; he had started from when Tomoro started speaking. He found that in contrast to his master who would only give little nuggets of wisdom here and there Tomoro was a fountain of knowledge on the subject of the world’s strongest man. It only made sense since he was not only Saitama’s oldest (and only) friend but is also the only person whose words Genos has seen Saitama take seriously with impunity.
Even if he had a laid-back and nonchalant attitude towards everything it was clear to the cyborg that Saitama values Tomoro’s words and their friendship. This in turn has endeared Genos to the older man who on occasion does give him some advice that was surprisingly effective for the young cyborg. It has gotten to the point where Genos could consider the older man an interim for his master despite being a civilian.
Finally, after a losing verbal battle Saitama stood up “I was doing well off before you showed up and I would have done fine even without your help” he shot back, taking what was left of his food and going to watch TV.
“Uh-huh, you remember that time I had to remind you to brush your teeth?”
"Urk,” Saitama flinched as the verbal arrow had pierced him.
“Or maybe I should refresh your memory on who had to do your shopping while you were lying comatose on your futon.”
“Ugh,” another shot.
“Or the fact that you almost had to suffer your hellish training while doing your ‘hobby’ and working odd jobs because you somehow didn’t know that there was a National Superhero Registry or a Hero Association that pays you to do your hobby.”
At that Genos blurted out a question that has been on his mind for a while now “how did Master Saitama come to be the hero that he is?”
Tomoro eyed the cyborg, then the baldy “you didn’t tell him your origin story?”
"Nope,” he replied, getting comfortable as he turned on the TV.
After rolling his eyes Tomoro cast his attention to Genos who flipped his notes to a blank page.
"Okay, so it went like this.”
~Two Years Ago~
It has been a little over nine months since Tomoro moved into the rental apartment. He had gotten a job and was taking advantage of the lack of need to pay for rent and utilities to accumulate and make a fortune out of his savings. In contrast his neighbor seems to be struggling to make ends meet which, in all honesty, made sense. For the majority of the time he’s known Saitama the man had spent his days doing that harsh training and his nights mostly eating and sleeping.
He apparently isn’t in contact with his family because of reasons.
Tomoro deduced that they did not take his lifestyle choices very well and cut him off. Without any financial support from any relatives and his savings seemingly nonexistent he has to work odd jobs to make ends meet. Unfortunately it’s hit or miss since most jobs are of the physical labor variety and he usually runs himself ragged during training. It’s a good thing he managed to find this apartment which he apparently got the idea to squat in from a kindly older gentleman.
It’s gotten better as time went by with Saitama slowly but surely adapting to the ludicrous bar he set for himself. Nowadays not only can he make it back to the apartment without Tomoro picking him up on his way from work but Saitama, the mad lad that he is, has now taken to actively fighting monsters whenever the opportunity arises. If he can fight monsters then doing a few odd jobs to raise funds for his continued existence should be no problem, right?
‘And yet more often than not he ends up here.’
Once again Saitama decided to invite himself over to have dinner with his ‘good friend’, neighbor, and 'aniki' Tomoro Sazaki. Yes Saitama actually referred to him as such on the occasions when he wanted to mooch off of the older man’s hospitality which was quite often. At this point Tomoro doesn’t complain or at least he doesn’t complain as much since he liked the younger man, respected his grit and honestly, he was afraid that if he didn’t at least make sure the guy was properly fed then he might just get himself killed through malnutrition.
This was Tomoro’s way of contributing to the growth of this hero-in-the-making because apparently Saitama won’t consider himself as such until his training was complete. And when did he consider his training complete? Well, after a few conversations he agreed to stop when his body had completely adapted to his regimen. When he can do consecutive 100 reps of sit-ups, push-ups, and squats followed by a 10-kilometer run without any sort of strain whatsoever then he would be satisfied.
That was the ‘compromise’ he and Tomoro agreed on, and it was shaping up to be a good benchmark for him to stop. Just a few months of this standard strength training and Saitama was already knocking out low-threat level monsters with a single punch. With the amount of times Saitama has shared a story like that Tomoro has taken to calling him One-Punch Man as a joke.
There was something that bothered him though. It was a topic that he had been meaning to bring up for a while now but it always slipped his mind. It happened to pop up in his head when he remembered the news coverage that day so he brought up the topic while they were eating.
“So, when are you going to sign up in the National Superhero Registry?”
Saitama stared at him, “Thuh wha?”
“Swallow your food before speaking” he chided.
Tomoro could swear sometimes it felt like he was Saitama’s dad or something.
“Sorry, so what were you saying?”
“The National Superhero Registry”
“What’s that?”
Tomoro opened his mouth, probably to reprimand him, paused, and gave the man a considering look. “Saitama.”
“Yeah?”
“You watch the news lately? Or like, for the past year.”
At the question Saitama raked his hand through his short, dark hair as he answered, “I mean, not really? I think I see some of the broadcasts but not all the time.”
Tomoro hummed, “you do realize there are actual professional heroes right?”
Saitama raised an eyebrow “well duh, of course there are other heroes.”
Otherwise, where would he get the idea to become a hero in the first place?
“Right, right, I just had to make sure,” he paused. “Well since you don’t know. A few wealthy businessmen decided to pool their resources and create an organization called the ‘Hero Association’ that recruits heroes.”
Saitama blinked, looking interested “oh?”
"Yeah, and they managed to partner with the government to create a National Superhero Registry. People sign up, do some tests, and depending on how well they go, can join the Hero association with an assigned rank in one of three classes, A, B, or C.”
“Okay…”
“So when are you going to sign up?”
“Eh…” Saitama edged “that doesn’t sound like my style.”
“Why not?”
“Do I have to sign up?”
“Do you have to? No, you have a choice but I highly recommend you do it.”
“Why?”
Tomoro pinched the bridge of his nose “Saitama, the Hero Association is a large-scale privately funded organization that is nationally recognized with government sanctions.”
“So? It’s not like I need to join some organization to be a hero.”
“Fair point, but I think you’re overlooking something important.”
“What?”
“As a government-sanctioned private corporation you can say that the heroes are employees and any employee under an organization receives a salary.”
Saitama looked thoughtful but ultimately troubled. Tomoro knew that the man had some deep-seethed issues with corporations but regardless he needed this whether he liked it or not.
"Look Saitama, as much as I don’t mind sharing my food, are you seriously thinking of mooching off of me for the foreseeable future?”
The younger man winced a little. Coming over for food was basically a routine that Saitama doesn’t even really think about at this point.
And it occurred to him, ‘I guess he moved here for the same reason I did in the end.’
The reason being that they couldn’t afford anywhere else, and just because Tomoro was lucky enough to get a steady job and was nice enough to accommodate him doesn’t change that fact.
‘It’s no excuse to mooch off of him forever.’
The last nail in the coffin came from Tomoro himself “think of it this way Saitama. You’ll be getting paid for doing your hobby. How many people are lucky enough to have that opportunity?”
Saitama actually chuckled at the thought “you’re right, I’ll sign up this weekend,” he paused before sheepishly asking “uh, where do I go exactly?”
Tomoro rolled his eyes ‘this guy I swear…’
~Present Day~
“Then after that, he went to the Hero Association branch and did the test. He breezed through the physical section but totally bombed in the written section. Like worst scores in the association’s history so far.”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
"Yes it was,” Tomoro snorted “it was so bad that despite breaking records at the time for the physical portion he ended up in C-Class.”
This information was pure gold for the disciple of Saitama. He’d never been able to broach the subject of his master’s origins as the man seemed disinterested and dismissive about speaking on it. Tomoro was helping in filling in some blanks about the man’s history, a time when the One-Punch Man was just an ordinary man.
It finally dawned on Genos as his eyes literally flashed with intrigue “did you witness master’s training?”
If he did then…
“Witnessed? No, but I was the one who had to drag his half-dead body back to his apartment and play butler while he was bedridden.”
“So you acted as master Saitama’s caretaker.”
“More or less,” Tomoro replied “at least he wasn’t so dependent after he joined the Hero Association. Somehow he managed to make his new ‘job’ work without compromising the integrity of his training regimen which is damn impressive.”
‘Indeed’ Genos mentally agreed.
“He eventually got used to the effects of his training. I can clearly remember it, the day he gained that monstrous strength” his glasses flashed as he said this.
“The day Master Saitama gained his strength?”
“Yeah, when he became the invincible bald wonder,” he gave Saitama a knowing look as he continued “that day.”
Saitama’s pretending to not be paying attention expression morphed into one of comical annoyance “don’t you dare.”
“See Genos, it all started one morning in the last year or so when Saitama was starting to get noticed for all his deeds…”
While Tomoro gave his version of events Saitama could not help but reminisce on his rise to his current status.
~One and a Half Years Ago~
“You know Saitama, maybe you should get like a portable radio set on the Hero Association channel or a phone with that Hero app.”
“Eh, why would I need that?”
“Idiot, so you can listen to any announcements or get updates about monster attacks or crimes taking place.”
“Nah, I don’t need any of that. All I have to do is just follow the screaming when a monster attacks or listen for any news of heroes and they’ll lead me straight to trouble.”
“You sure about that? I mean, are you really sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
‘Is what I said, but’
“Wait, this is a shelter?” Saitama questioned with a blink.
“Yes, we’ll be safe here,” spoke a civilian.
Saitama had heard the sirens and ran out in search of the threat but instead of finding said threat he ended up here. Now that he realized where he was he could only lament on his shortsightedness.
“Crap, this isn’t where I wanted to be! They said they were heroes, so I thought if I followed them then I’d get to the monsters,” he spoke out his thoughts in a panic whilst glancing at three beaten up heroes.
He had followed them hoping they would lead him to the action. He even introduced himself as a hero but clearly he could see they thought he was weak because they lost and he was in the same class as them. If he had some kind of radio or that damn phone app he would have been able to find where he was going.
‘He was right, I messed up...again!’
Saitama hated when Tomoro was right about stuff but in his defense both the radio and phone brand for which the hero app was available were expensive as all hell.
‘Even with my salary I wasn’t made out of money dammit!’
While Saitama was having a mini freak out the civilians around him were put off by him. He paid them no mind as he made his back through the crowd.
One of them noticed this and asked “hey, where are you going?”
“I’m leaving,” he answered, but the moment he did, the crowd started to hold him back. “Hey, what the hell are you doing? Let me go—DON’T GRAB MY HAIR!”
“Hold him back!”
“This guy has a death wish!”
“He’s actually trying to go out there!”
“Someone call security; this guy’s having a mental breakdown!”
Using his superior strength, Saitama was able to shrug off most of them, but they were persistent in ‘helping’ him in not throwing his life away.
“Would you knock it off? I’m not crazy. I’m a B-Class hero from the Hero Association!”
That put a halt to the crowd’s struggle as one of them asked, “you’re a hero?”
“Yes!”
As he said this more murmurs about ‘useless heroes’ started to surface though Saitama was either oblivious or willfully ignorant to their words.
Finally, an official-looking woman who worked for the Hero Association finally showed up and asked “excuse me but what seems to be the problem here?”
“I’m a hero; I got mixed up and ended up here by accident.”
“You are a hero?”
“Yes”
Saitama knew he doesn’t necessarily dress like most heroes but it’s kind of annoying that he gets asked that question every time he says that he’s a hero.
The woman seems to have recovered and began to speak, “well, regardless, when the defense systems are online, all exit doors of the shelter are sealed.”
“So I can’t get out?" Saitama asked looking deflated.
The woman nods, “that’s correct.”
"Well, can’t you make an exception? It’s easier if I just take out the monster, right? Then none of us would have to be here.”
There were scoffs, looks of disbelief expressed by the nearby civilians as they regarded this man (who looked no different from another civilian) who wanted to ‘take out’ the monster who beat three pro-heroes. It sounded laughable and there were quite a few in the crowd who were amused and felt pity for the obviously delusional man.
The Hero Association rep too felt pity for this man and answered “I am afraid I cannot make that exception.”
‘Shit!’ he started looking around ‘does that mean I have to make my own exit? It should be fine, right? Compared to the destruction that monster is probably making a broken door should be low on their list of priorities right?’
“Saitama?”
The man flinched and looked back to find his neighbor of all people standing before him.
“Tomoro, what are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that? The evacuation order came in while I was at work so they shuttled us over here. What are you doing here? Was that monster too much for you?”
A short explanation later…
“And you wonder why I told you to get that phone app,” Tomoro noted with no small amount of disappointment.
Saitama hated when he got like that; it was like he was being scolded by his parents all over again. He didn’t even bother starting an argument with him.
“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll buy a phone and get the stupid app. Right now there’s a more pressing matter!”
Tomoro nodded “how you’re going to get out and beat that monster?”
“I have to use the toilet” Saitama interrupted at the same time Tomoro spoke.
There was a brief lull at that, and Tomoro used it to silently push up his glasses by the bridge, a habit he recently picked up when dealing with Saitama. It was either that or a dope slap up the side of his head and unfortunately the latter became ineffective after Saitama’s durability went into the superhuman range.
On the other hand “Saitama, this shelter doesn’t have toilets.”
“HUH!? Wait, isn’t that like a huge design flaw?”
Tomoro opened his mouth, probably to reprimand him (Saitama could tell from his expression), only for him to pause. The facility was created to house a good chunk of the city’s entire population and it had a laundry list of defenses and security measures but they didn’t think to put in something as simple as a bathroom?
Grudgingly, the older man nodded in agreement “you’re right, that is a huge design flaw.”
“Right?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t punched your way out the wall.”
“Eh, what kind of person do you think I am?”
Tomoro raised a brow “do you really want me to answer that?”
“Screw you and for your information I’m not about to randomly destroy property. Next thing you know they’re knocking at my door demanding compensation—why are you looking at me like that!?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just-" he sniffled and wiped away a fake tear “you’re finally growing up.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Anyway, as much as I applaud your consideration, I think this might be one of the rare times when some collateral might be acceptable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Saitama you’ve got a monster wreaking havoc in the city. It took out B-Class and A-Class Heroes already. I can guarantee you that unless one of those new ‘S-Class’ heroes show up they are going to bump up the threat level and send in some elite soldiers.”
“How do you know that?”
“You know the Hero Association post protocols for this stuff on their website, right?”
“Dunno, never really checked it out.”
“Of course you didn’t. The bottom line is the Hero Association will forgive you if you give them a good reason for the collateral damage on one of their state of the art shelters that supposed to be capable of withstanding monster atatcks.” Saitama opened his mouth “and no, they won’t take I had to use the bathroom as a valid excuse.”
“That’s not what I was going to say!” Saitama yelled hotly before calming down, “so basically I just have to beat the monster after breaking the wall and I’m good?”
“Yes”
“You could have said that from the beginning!”
“And have you make the same mistake at some point down the line? No, you need to actually understand this stuff Saitama.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever,” he made his way through the crowd again.
“Kick its ass, One-Punch Man.”
Saitama rolled his eyes at the name while making his way through the crowd, and as he did, he gained some attention from the onlookers.
"Look, it’s that weird guy again.”
“The so-called 'hero,’ lol.”
“Where are you going?”
“Going out to take care of the monster,” Saitama answered curtly until he reached the nearest wall.
“That’s a wall, dude,” one man snickered.
“Let’s just ignore him.”
With a simple jab Saitama punched a hole in the reinforced and allegedly impregnable fortress then hopped out leaving a room full of gaping bystanders. The first thing Saitama did when he left the shelter was to head for the nearest convenience store and use their bathroom. Afterwards, he spent close to an hour scouring the empty city looking for the monster. He was fortunate enough to catch it right as it overwhelmed two other heroes and defeated it with a single mighty punch that blew a giant hole through it.
“Whew, looks like I made it on time,” he turned to the other heroes, “are you guys okay?”
The two heroes could only gape at the tracksuit-wearing man who managed to defeat the 170,000-year-old Magicicada Larva with a single punch.
“W-who are you?”
Saitama smirked, “I’m B-Class Rank 27 pro hero, Saitama.”
While the one who asked was still in disbelief, the other one had the wherewithal to gather his wits and say, “t-thank you for saving us Saitama.”
“No problem,” Saitama rubbed his nose.
Appreciation was one of the perks of the job that he didn’t know he wanted until it was shown to him. It was weird how he didn’t become a hero for the fame or adoration but nonetheless liked it when people gave it to him. Regardless it was another job well done and unbeknownst to Saitama it would be his ‘biggest’ takedown to date at the time. However, while he would be oblivious to the ramifications of his latest victory certain forces were not so ignorant as to its significance, and protocols unknown to the B-Class hero would be enacted.
Later That Day…
“S-Class?”
It was a confused Saitama who sat before a group of Hero Association executives. After he destroyed the monster Saitama had stuck around to claim credit for his kill as per protocol. It was kind of a pain to do but he’d been advised by Tomoro not to leave as soon as he finished a monster off lest he be a victim of fraud with other heroes claiming his kill and reaping the benefits. He actually didn’t mind it this time around since this particular monster caused such a mess, he was bound to get a major payday for it.
What he didn’t expect was to be invited to the Hero Association’s main headquarters for a meeting with some corporate bigwigs who were interested in bumping up his rank. He expected to go up in the rankings but in all honesty he didn’t much care for them. C-Class forced him to meet a weekly quota of crime which was a pain to deal with but ever since he went to B-Class he didn’t have to meet said quota and got a steady income that increased based on his contributions which he was cool with it.
Rankings were just one of the many things he knew existed but never paid attention to. Even Tomoro told him that his rankings from B-Class upwards weren’t really important since they didn’t really affect the way he operated. The same couldn’t be said for S-Class however. There were a bunch of things that would be different where that class was concerned. At least that’s what Tomoro thought when the new rank came up in conversation that one time.
“Yes, you see we have been scouting for unique individuals amongst the current ranks of our heroes. We understand that the skills demonstrated during the initial test at the National Superhero Registry are not indicative of the skills of certain individuals, and so we-”
“Excuse me, but could you put down all that explanation stuff on a pamphlet or something?” Saitama interrupted what he knew was going to be a long speech he had no interest in hearing.
The executive turned to his colleagues who gave him shrugs not really knowing what to make of the man so he merely gave a nod, “very well, does that mean you agree to go into the S-Class rank?”
“Do I have to change the way I do my hero work?”
“No”
“Then sure, I’ll go into S-Class.”
“Excellent. If you have any requests the Hero Association will try its best to accommodate you.”
Saitama tapped his chin ‘wasn’t there something-oh right!’ He tapped a fist to his palm in realization.
“Do you have like a phone or something I can use to get updates on monster attacks?”
“That can be arranged.”
"Awesome,” he stood “well, if that’s all…”
“Wait”
“Hm?”
“There is the matter of your hero name.”
Saitama blinked, “just use my name.”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, Mr. Saitama. For the sake of security and public perception all heroes need a codename or a ‘hero name’ in order to properly operate.”
Saitama sighed, feeling a bit annoyed. ‘I guess using my real name for a hero name isn’t very cool at all. Argh, but it’s going to be a pain in the ass coming up with something.’
“Ah, not to worry, we have already come up with a few names based on your appearance and how you operate.”
“Oh?”
'Well, I guess if they have some suggestions I could use-’
“Tracksuit Man”
‘…or not’ Saitama felt his eyebrow twitch and at least one other executive cringed.
Saitama, who was currently wearing his tracksuit, gave the man a long, blank stare before muttering a single word, "no.”
Nervously, the man continued down the list of names but none interested Saitama. While this was going on a thought suddenly entered his mind.
'Alright, let’s go with that’
“Stop” He suddenly interrupted whatever inane name the executive said, “I’ve decided on my hero name.”
“What is it?”
“One-Punch Man”
And with that, Saitama got up to leave, but not before one of the executives spoke up.
“You can pick up the ‘S-Class pamphlet’ at the reception desk on your way out.
"Okay,” he said, giving an overhead wave as he left through the door.
~Present Day~
“So you gave Master Saitama his hero name?” Genos questioned while taking a pause in his note-taking, which somehow filled up almost the entire book.
“If you want to be technical about it, then yes.”
Saitama scoffed in the background, “it was just more convenient to use it than what those executives were suggesting.”
“They suggested Tracksuit Man, didn’t they?”
“…”
"Yeah, I thought so. From what I understand those executives are responsible for assigning names when a nameless hero becomes popular enough. They are also notorious for their shitty naming sense. You better be careful Genos or you might just become the victim of their terrible naming sense.”
“I do not mind; a name does not impact my combat effectiveness.”
"Well, if you feel that way but you’d be surprised about what could affect your combat effectiveness”
Genos immediately picked up on the inflection within those words, “what do you mean?”
“I’ll use an example: Saitama originally got his yellow monstrosity of a suit from a retired tailor he helped out.”
“Hey, don’t diss my uniform!”
"Anyway, Saitama was embarrassed to be seen wearing it. So every time trouble popped up it was a war to decide whether he would wear it or conveniently forget about it. If he didn’t wear it then he'd go about taking care of trouble like he usually did but if he did wear it then he would move faster in hopes that no one would see him. It didn’t always work and for the first few times he fled immediately after defeating a monster.”
“I see, so Master Saitama’s appearance affected how he went about doing his hero work.” He didn’t stop taking notes as he spoke.
"Exactly, and this went for a few weeks until,” Tomoro smirked “his hair fell out one day, and he became completely bald.”
"Grr,” a look at Saitama had him looking over his shoulder in annoyance.
Tomoro continued “after a few futile attempts at growing it back he stopped caring about his personal appearance and began wearing that yellow jumpsuit out in the open. Nowadays he could care less about what people think so it doesn’t affect his ‘combat effectiveness’ anymore.”
“If that is the case, I don’t understand what you meant when you implied that my name could affect my combat effectiveness.”
Tomoro shook his head “it’s not about the name or your appearance, Genos. Saitama is overpowered and virtually invincible. There is no one he couldn’t beat and there is nothing that can hurt him. His combat effectiveness could only be affected by his own mentality. He used to feel embarrassed about wearing his hero suit and that affected how he performed on the field. You, on the other hand are not invincible and even though you are strong you aren’t that strong. You don’t care about public perception, which is good, but you don’t really consider things outside your comfort zone either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, how come you didn’t take up Silver Fang’s offer to learn his martial arts?”
It came up in conversation after the meteor incident that Silver Fang had offered to train Genos in his martial arts, but the cyborg turned him down, citing that
“It is unneeded.”
“Why?”
“Silver Fang’s martial art, the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist, is a defensive martial art; however, what I need is pure destructive power.”
“No offense Genos but that sounds extremely shortsighted” Tomoro stated bluntly.
The cyborg’s eyes momentarily widen before focusing looking more like lenses “please explain.”
“Don’t get me wrong, if you want to get stronger, that’s no problem, but it sounds like you want all offense and no defense.”
“If I have enough speed and power to overwhelm my enemies effectively then there will not be a reason to invest in defensive measures.”
“Ah, but life doesn’t work like that. You’re a cyborg and from what I understand you have a scientist who can fix you up whenever something breaks.”
Genos nodded “Dr. Kuseno.”
"Right, Dr. Kuseno is like your safety net so you might not really care much for your body. I won’t go into how over relying on someone could get you in trouble but think of it like this. How many times have you fought someone and you ended up having to go to Dr. Kuseno for repairs?”
Genos could admit that his visits to Dr. Kuseno in the past had been moderate. At most he’d visit him for status reports, tune-ups and the occasional minor repair. Recently though, he’s found himself having to be picked up by the doctor’s drones and transported back to the lab at a higher frequency. He never thought much about it but now that it was being identified he could see how such a thing could be a detriment. Genos put the thought behind him for now as Tomoro continued.
“What if you meet someone just as strong and just as fast but they can take your hits? Would you be able to do the same? What if you end up fighting someone just as strong as you but much faster? Could you survive long enough to think of a way to beat them? Or what if you meet someone you couldn’t hope to defeat with your current strength? Would you be able to retreat to think of a plan of attack?”
Genos had no words to these questions because they weren’t hypothetical scenarios but past confrontations the memories of which were being brought to the forefront in HD clarity by his cybernetic brain.
Someone just as strong and just as fast but they can take his hits?
Deep Sea King.
Someone just as strong but much faster?
Mosquito Girl.
Someone he couldn’t hope to defeat with his current strength?
Carnage Kabuto.
He already knew the answers to Tomoro’s questions and they all ended with him in various states of defeat. Suddenly his words about over relying on Dr. Kuseno to fix him after incurring damages made the sting of his defeats all the more prominent.
“I never thought of that,” Genos whispered before his eyes went to his actual master,
“You should listen to him, Genos,”
The voice had Genos turn to find Saitama paying attention to their conversation.
“Master?”
The bald man kept his stoic expression as he repeated “you should listen to him. He knows what he’s talking about.”
With those words the cyborg nodded and gave an enthusiastic “yes Master!” Then he stood and bowed towards Tomoro. “Thank you for bringing these flaws to my attention Mr. Sazaki!”
A little put off by his exuberance Tomoro could only acknowledge his words with a nod and a placating “you’re welcome.”
Nothing else of note would happen for the remainder of Tomoro’s stay; however, throughout it all, Genos kept thinking of his words and the hypothetical scenarios those words could create.
‘I will consult with Dr. Kuseno for additional defensive options’
~To Be Continued~