Chapter Text
"So you changed your parts again?"
"Yes."
Saitama hummed, taking another sip of tea, then casually glanced over the rim of the cup to eye his disciple. The cyborg perched at the other end of the small table, sitting rigidly on his knees as though awaiting an interrogation. He looked...odd. Saitama had gotten used to seeing Genos return from visits to his doctor in the same body he'd had on the day they'd met, a strange mix of black mesh, silver metal, and visible wiring. This time, the cyborg had returned with a silicone neck to match his narrow face, smaller metal shoulders with ventilation holes for steam to escape, and bulkier forearms that reminded the older hero of miniature rocket ships, with angular fins on each side. His golden hair was shorter too, drawing more attention to the wide amber eyes instead of covering them in long strands, and all the parts of his body that weren't hidden behind fabric seemed enclosed behind silicone, metal, or mesh. In short, he looked more humanoid and less like a machine.
He looks older, Saitama mused idly. More mature, somehow.
"Cool."
Letting out a soft breath, the cyborg relaxed minutely and shifted in place. "Sensei...please, may we spar again? I would like to test my new capabilities."
"Sure." Saitama shrugged, then gestured to his disciple's untouched cup of tea. "Oi, it's gonna get cold."
"Ah! Sorry, sensei."
They sipped their tea quietly, silence growing and filling the space between them with an awkwardness that hadn't been there since the early days when Genos had first moved in. Saitama blinked and stared at the mug in his hand, tracing the dark corners of a crack left behind by the destruction of their last apartment. Why did it feel like there was something missing in the empty space between them? Should he have asked about the new parts his disciple had been installed with? ....ehh, but then he would probably launch into some long-winded explanation with a bunch of science mumbo-jumbo and Saitama would have to-
"Sensei?"
"Ah." Broken from his reverie, Saitama lifted his eyes from the chipped ceramic and focused instead on the glinting amber of his disciple's intent gaze. "Hm?"
"Sensei," Genos repeated, then paused as if to gather his courage. Or maybe figure out how to summarize what he wanted to say. "I was wondering....even though you no longer need rent money since this apartment is free with your rise to A-rank, I had hoped...that is to say..."
Saitama scratched at a small itch on his neck, calmly waiting for the cyborg to get his point across. "Just spit it out, Genos."
The other hero twitched at his words, gaze sliding away to focus on the hands clenched in his lap. "Please, sensei...may I continue to live here with you?"
The bald man yawned widely, then stood up to take his empty cup into to the kitchen. "What are you talking about? Your futon's still here, isn't it?"
"I-"
Saitama carefully remained with his back turned to the other hero, busying his hands with washing the chipped mug while he listened for any other words to come from his (their) new living room.
Stupid. I never used that money.
"I see. Thank you, sensei."
"Hm? What for?" Saitama hummed absently, placing the mug in the drying rack and padding back into the living room.
There was a small, secretive little quirk to the edges of his disciple's mouth as he replied.
"Nothing. Sensei is very kind."
"Eh. Don't be creepy."
By unspoken agreement, they made their way back to the canyon they'd first sparred in several months ago. Saitama blinked in surprise at the weird tunnel through one of the tallest sides of the cliff, a smooth cylinder that stretched onward past the extent of his vision. He cocked his head in mild confusion (had it looked that way before?), but quickly forgot his musings as his disciple called his wayward attention back to their purpose.
Their spar turned out much the same as the first one, of course. Saitama's limitless power could not be bested by metal or fire no matter how much passion fueled it, but the duel definitely showcased his disciple's progress and continuing potential for growth. His new parts granted him an immense boost in speed, which had taken Saitama by surprise at first since he had been expecting the same level that Genos had previously shown. His momentary shock had very nearly afforded his disciple the first strike, which he dodged at the last second. If he'd still had hair, the fiery punch would have likely singed several strands right off his head.
"Ooohh!" he cooed appreciatively. "Nice one, Genos! You almost got me."
Rather than being pleased with this compliment, the words only seemed to irritate and fuel his disciple's desperation. The air around him simmered with heat as electricity crackled up the metal plates, coiling and twisting up his extended arms like an angry serpent. The bald hero stood still for a moment, watching the light show with eager interest. Genos was always a sight to behold in battle, a fluid dancer with limbs of fire and lightning.
They sparred for several long minutes, decimating the landscape around them without the slightest concern (whatever, no one lived out here anyway). Saitama never made any offensive moves, preferring instead to avoid each one of Genos' aggressive movements. The cyborg was extremely fast after all of Kuseno's new upgrades, reminding Saitama vaguely of his bout with that weird one-eyed alien. He flipped, jumped, ducked, side-stepped, and casually shimmied away from each punch and kick of the other hero's metal limbs, noting with approval that Genos had finally stopped dropping his guard so much and relying on sheer explosive firepower to attack his opponent. Instead, his disciple seemed to be emulating a similar fighting style to his own early hero days, back when he still had hair and tended to end each day with bruises and cuts oozing blood.
With a small smile, Saitama abruptly back-flipped over his disciple's head, reaching out to poke gently at one unblemished cheek. "Much better, Genos."
The cyborg swatted irritably at his hand, which had already moved as Saitama hopped away, chuckling softly at the teen's grumpy countenance. "Sensei!! Take me seriously!"
"I am. You've gotten close several times and I had to dodge a lot faster than before," the older man assured, still smiling absently. "It's making me hungry."
The cyborg huffed and half-heartedly tossed a blast of molten flame at his teacher, who leapt aside with a yelp and glared in response. The ground smoldered at his feet, flames creeping toward the edge of his crimson boots.
"Oi! Stop trying to burn my clothes off! I barely have any left after last week."
Genos choked a little. "S-sorry, sensei, that was not my intention."
The older man sighed tiredly. "Are we done yet? I'd like to get some food and hit a few sales to replace some things we lost in the apartment."
His disciple glowered darkly, eyes flashing bright gold. "Sensei! Fight me until I can no longer stan-"
Idiot. You just got home after being in pieces, I'm not going to break you again.
Saitama lurched forward, zooming across the open ground while the cyborg was still shouting at his afterimage. He dug his feet into the ground in front of his affronted student, then reached up with both hands to clasp those broad metal shoulders. With a carefully gentle movement, he pulled the cyborg off his feet and then slammed him to the ground. The dirt broke apart beneath them and shot up into the air in a cloud of dust, leaving behind a small crater. Genos gazed up at him with wide eyes and windblown hair, gaping as his teacher promptly sat on him with a smirk.
"There," he leered, ignoring the way one eyebrow twitched with his irritation. "You're 'no longer standing'."
The cyborg stared.
Saitama huffed and flicked his student's forehead once more. "C'mon, let's go get some udon. My treat."
"O...okay."
When they returned to their new apartment, there was an official notice stuck to the door. Saitama ignored it entirely, making a beeline to the kitchen so he could put away their discounted groceries and then tote a bag of clothing to their balcony for later washing. Genos paused in the doorway long enough to retrieve the paper from the door, and then closed it behind him while toeing off his shoes to leave behind in the entryway.
"Sensei, this says that all heroes are required to attend an official Hero Association event two days from now."
"Hmm?"
Saitama was only barely paying attention to him, eyes fixed on the ground floor where that strange dog who followed him home was busy playing fetch with the weird hairy butterfly guy who had visited him. He blinked lazily, leaning against the edge of the balcony. What was his name again...?
"It seems to be some sort of PR event, with the intention of raising the Association's approval rating."
"Approval rating?"
The bald man turned slightly, brown eyes fixed over his shoulder to gaze at the cyborg.
Genos nodded and continued, "Yes. As I'm sure you are aware, sensei, the Association is currently under heavy scrutiny right now. With the massive increase in monster attacks, population deaths, and city damage, people are relying more than ever on heroes to save them. But most of the heroes are struggling to handle the increased amount of demon and dragon level monsters. With Blast still unavailable, Bang leaving the Association, Darkshine refusing to fight, Tornado under scrutiny, etc, the public is losing faith in the Association and its main donators are more reluctant to invest. With this in-"
"Dude."
The cyborg paused for a few moments, presumably to count words in his head. "People are losing faith in heroes, so Amai Mask is holding an event to influence public opinion."
Saitama scratched at his ear. "We have to be there?"
"Yes, sensei. In our hero outfits."
"Ugh. Oh well, at least it's not on a sale day."