Latest update:Febuary 12, 2024
Summary:She didn't need saving — but the baldy saved her anyway.
Link:https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13894054/1/Hmph
Word count:128k
Chapters:27
"You're far too strong… Saitama…"
A shadow spread across the face of the strongest man as he walked away from the warrior that had spoken those words.
Lord Boros was, without a doubt, the strongest opponent he had ever faced. The small thrill the hero felt once the alien stood from his first punch was undeniable. The surprise in the bald man's eyes as his foe sent him flying with a barrage that surpassed living flesh — it was almost exhilarating.
For a few moments, the strongest man thought that a real fight was nearly at hand. He'd hoped beyond hope that this self-proclaimed 'Denominator of the Universe' would light a fire in his chest again. He prayed to whatever god was listening that he would feel something then. After all, wasn't the alien in the same boat as he was? Boros was strong too… right?
Saitama's face was unreadable as they clashed. Even though Boros was taking blows unlike all the other enemies he faced, even though the alien was pushing him back, there was a dark, quiet thought in the back of the hero's mind that gnawed at him. Every punch Saitama took from the mighty alien, every blast of energy he withstood — the same dark thought slowly ate away at him. He tried to ignore it, hoping desperately that the fight would set his soul ablaze too and not just his enemy's. But despite it all… he was unharmed. There was barely a scratch on his skin. Once more, the tendrils of despair were wrapped around him — the thought gnawing at his mind all but consumed Saitama. That is, until…
"COLLAPSING STAR, ROARING CANNON!"
That was the moment of truth. The strongest attack from the being that brought the universe to its knees. It was the hero's last hope. If he felt nothing, then it would be over.
Saitama steeled himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, the strongest man's fist trembled. Would this make him feel again? Would he finally have a good fight in his hands?
There was only one way to know.
"In that case, I'm using my own final move. Killer Move, Serious Series:
.
Serious Punch."
.
The hero — the villain — the world — held its breath.
.
'I should just give up looking for a good fight.'
The man looked numbly at his still-smoking fist, completely unharmed. Saitama knew better than to pay heed to negative thoughts. After all, such things were unwelcome in his already-dour life. But he had to face the truth: this hero business, his everyday matters, his hobbies — they weren't fun anymore.
Admittedly, ever since Genos had arrived and he'd met some heroes from the Association, his days had become more lively. Not a couple of hours went by that Saitama didn't find himself smiling at some small joke he'd made to himself or smirking at the antics of his apprentice. At the same time though, it always seemed to remind him of how small he felt.
Genos was an S-Class hero. In just a few weeks' time, he had risen to the elite of the Association and was met with adoration and praise. He was fiercely honor-bound and strong, and had a firm (albeit overzealous) idea of justice. The kid was honestly incredible.
Saitama's qualms with Genos were hard to pin down. It wasn't like the bald hero was jealous of him — he fully believed that Genos was well-deserving of his rank, and on that belief he would never change his mind. What the blond cyborg had made him realize, however, was that aside from strength, Saitama had basically nothing to show for. He couldn't teach his apprentice, and he couldn't really explain his own strength to the kid, either. Their whole master-apprentice relationship was based on half-assed teachings and an unhealthy overanalysis of Saitama's every word and action. In all honesty, he felt like he was cheating Genos. By accepting his rent money and spouting nonsense that somehow seemed to strike a chord with the kid in return, he was no better than an internet scammer. There was basically nothing of merit he could actually give to the cyborg.
Sure, Saitama was strong. Of course he was. He didn't know why, but that didn't change the fact. For all the strength he had, for all the monsters he could defeat, for all the people he saved — did he really want it anymore?
The hero frowned. Deep down, he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way. Saitama was well aware that this strength would let him keep the world safe, and that was something he would be damned if he wasn't thankful for.
'But this? It's…'
There were no words. Saitama had just battled the strongest being in all the worlds. The being who was so strong that he had fallen into despair, just like the bald hero himself. The two were kin, in a weird sort of way. And Saitama knew they both felt it. Was there any fault in expecting something exhilarating, something that would reignite the spark of passion in them both?
Some higher beings seemed to think so. Because instead of a heart-pounding, high-stakes battle that connected the hearts of the two fighters in a way that nothing else could, something else happened.
One of them utterly destroyed the other. One of them died realizing how pathetic his final battle was, and the other lived knowing he could never have a real fight anymore. Hide it as he might — fool himself that the battle was closer than it really was — the truth came out in those final words:
'You're far too strong.'
It was so sad it was almost funny.
.
The bald man sighed. It wasn't really like him to feel bad for himself. He should honestly have expected as much beforehand, especially after he'd discovered a normal punch was all it took to rip an arm off the alien leader.
Either way, the job was finished. One punch or not, he'd probably done the world a little good by bringing the destructive alien to justice. It would probably just take a while to get over. Walking dully over to the hole on the ship he made during the scuffle with Boros, Saitama realized that everything was slowly sinking. He noticed the light in the room below him was gone, too.
There was something big there that caught his eye a few moments before the battle, and if he remembered right (which he probably didn't), it was a huge glowing orb. Did that have anything to do with anything?
Maybe. Maybe not. What Saitama knew for sure was that there were no longer any lights coming from inside the ship. He'd rather be damned before he would try finding his way around the now pitch-black throne room. Looking around for another way out of the sinking ship, he realized with a small 'Ah!' that he could just wait for it to crash and jump down the edge. That would probably not be for another few minutes, so he had all the time in the world to look around at the remains of the ship — and the rubble of the city below.
Destroyed as it was, seeing A City from such a height was still quite a sight. The rubble from broken glass glittered like waves in the ocean, and distant buildings shimmered in the noontime light. The world spread below him as far as he could see — cloudless too — and it was kind of beautiful. He heard a noise behind him.
"Oh, crap."
Distracted by the view, Saitama almost forgot that he had another matter to attend to.
In all honesty, he would have preferred not to have any business with said matter, since the said 'matter' in question was rather unpleasant. And rude. And generally got on his nerves.
But he was a hero. Heroes couldn't just pick who to save.
The bald man walked over to the injured green-haired girl lying behind him and knelt down to pick her up. Saitama realized she probably didn't know what was happening, what with her being nearly unconscious and all. He gave her a heads-up.
"The ship's about to crash. Hold on."
The esper looked at him weakly, not saying a word. Saitama took one last look at the city as the ship fell to the ground.
'I wonder what I'll have for dinner tonight.'
Link:https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13894054/2/Hmph