Summary : After the destruction of A city, comes the time for reconstruction. Everything is back to normal, but Genos notices a subtle change in Saitama. Something is wrong. And he's going to fix it.

Author's note : This is an attempt at translating my own fic from french to english. So be warned, I'm not fluent and I tried my best. If you notice any typo or weird stuff, please tell me. If you speak french, I strongly advise you to read it in french, 'cause I simplified a lot of things in order to translate it.

Enjoy!

[Edit june 16th 2016: I'd like to thank all the kind and helpful readers who helped me fix the typos and badly translated sentences! Thank you so much!]

oOo

Aftermath (Contrecoup)

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« … survivors are still being rescued from the rubbles of A city as our special live reporter is shooting those terrible images… »

« Oh my god, this is awful! Look, the city has been completely wiped off the map! It looks like a post-apocalyptic landscape! »

« Only the Hero Association's QG and the alien spaceship are still in one piece. We can be proud to live in the only country in the world where the heroes' activity has been institutionalized and funded by the citizens' taxes. Imagine what a disaster it would have been for our planet without the Association! »

« Should we fear more alien attacks like this in the future? And would the Hero Association be able to face them all? »

« That's what our special guest is going to tell us! Please welcome Amai Mask on set! »

« Kyaaaah! He is here? I'm his biggest fan! »

Soft clouds lazily drifted in the blue sky. Wings flapping, a sparrow perched on the rack of drying clothes in the balcony, glanced curiously on the inside by the half open door-window, then flew away with feather rustling. A warm breeze rippled the thin curtain as a thunder of applause rose up from the television.

"Sorry again." Saitama apologized flatly.

"You don't have to apologize, sensei. You were just trying to help me. I have got all the spare parts I need for this kind of situation. This is an easy repair."

"Yeah, but still…"

Sitting down on the floor, Saitama was still holding the cyborg's ripped off arm like he'd been since they left the devastated A city to come home walking. And he was using it now to scratch his bald head with a metallic rattling.

"Could you give me the screwdriver, Saitama-sensei?" Genos asked, squinting at his own shoulder he was trying his best to fix up with his only hand.

Resting his elbows on the table, Saitama started digging in the pile of spare parts, locknuts and cables until he found the screwdriver. Genos thanked him with a nod, and tried to straighten the piece of warped iron. In his golden eyes, a function screen indicated how to fix the problem – a program Kuseno added so Genos could handle small repairs by himself. But with this angle and only one good arm, it was hard to work efficiently. Under Saitama's curious stare, he frowned when he failed, the screwdriver slipping on the metal.

A cold and hard touch on his cheek made him look up.

"Need a hand, Genos?"

Saitama was leaning with his elbows on the table, chin settled on his palm, and he was poking him with the mechanical arm – he manually folded down fingers so only the index one would point out.

Genos lowered down his screwdriver, thoughtful.

"In order to put my arm back on, I have to reconnect the wires and slot it inside those notches. Doctor Kuseno made them in a very solid metal, resistant to extreme temperatures, to increase my strength and defense. It is nearly impossible to bend or destroy that metal alloy."

"Oh. Cool."

"But the notches have been twisted by sensei's amazing strength and I can't straighten them back."

"Ah ok, it's only that."

Without hesitation, Saitama reached across the table and used his little finger to straighten the metal notches, so easily and casually, it looked like the metal was made of warabimochi.

He shouldn't still be surprised by Saitama's strength after months of studying him and living with him, but Genos couldn't help gasping, admiration shining in his eyes.

"You truly are amazing, Saitama-sensei…" he whispered with a smile, proud to be the disciple of a man this powerful.

Always so modest, Saitama shrugged away the compliment and gave him the metallic arm so he could put it back on. Genos made a flame burst out of his palm and used it to re-solder the wires, and then slotted the member at its rightful place with a clicking sound. He moved his fingers and stared at them intently, physical sensations rushing back to his brain.

A hint of Saitama's warmth remained in his elbow and metallic phalanxes, and Genos couldn't help analyzing with fascination the contrast of temperature.

"Wow…" deadpanned Saitama. "Is that dude serious over there."

Genos looked up at his teacher. Saitama wasn't looking at him anymore, he was staring at the television's screen with a raised eyebrow and a blank face. Just like Genos, he hadn't changed clothes yet since they came home, he was still wearing his hero suit. The cape was ripped off, the yellow fabric worn out and torn, and his skull lost its mirror shine because of dirt and dust covering it.

The cyborg squinted and looked at the tv program Saitama was watching. On screen was Amai Mask flipping his hair away from his symmetrical face, looking uppity and contemptuous.

« … incompetence of the S class heroes. It's their job to prevent this kind of threat and avoid any civil harm. A city is still counting its dead and the number of victims is alarming, but the media are praising those who couldn't avoid this disaster because of their weakness and negligence. I think it's pathetic, all that glorification of mediocrity. »

The audience was sighing dreamingly at each and every word that came out of his mouth, and the tv newscaster looked embarrassed, sweat dripping from his forehead.

« Certainly, Amai Mask, you are right of course, but… don't you agree that without their intervention, there would have been way more victims, and maybe the planet would have been invaded or destroyed? »

« Let me remind you that the S class heroes are handsomely payed by taxes to save those civilians. Without them, they would be unemployed like parasites. Should I reveal how scandalously expensive is their cost to society, even if some of them do nothing to earn it, combine high absenteeism rate and lack of professionalism? We haven't seen Blast intervene or protect civilians for almost a year! S class heroes are not subject to performance quotas and have no obligation to prove themselves like the A, B and C classes have to. In my opinion, those overpaid slackers don't deserve the public's admiration. If it was up to me, I would subject them to supervision and quotas, and I would raise the difficulty of the entrance exam. The Hero Association is losing its standing and is becoming a parody of itself, it's a disgrace. »

"Who the fuck does that guy think he is?" Saitama mumbled.

The female newscaster – who was blushing hard – fluttered her eyelashes with a lovestruck smile.

« Is this why you remain class A n°1 even though you could easily be on top of the S class? You are so strong and handsome! »

Amai Mask granted her a charming smile and she nearly passed out.

« I don't need an outrageous salary or scandalous benefits to do my job. I have no desire to lose my shine through contact with those good-for-nothing. I want to stay close to my fans, make them happy, keep them safe and fight evil in all shapes. This is my dearest wish. »

A burst of applause shook the tv set, with female hysterical screaming. Amai Mask looked detached and was checking his manicure with dignity, ignoring the fans holding signs with hearts and throwing their underwear at him. But Genos was focused on Saitama who looked upset like he couldn't believe it.

"He did nothing but he's got fans, and I don't? That's unfair!"

"Don't pay attention!" Genos uttered fiercely. "He is nothing compared to you, Saitama-sensei. You saved this planet, and even if no one knows about it, I do and I'll never forget it! If it wasn't for you, we would all have been doomed!"

Saitama looked unexcitedly at him, face blank. He scratched his head and pouted.

"I dunno, it wasn't such a big deal. And it's kinda my fault, after all. It took me so long to take down the spaceship and the alien boss. I got lost in the corridors, for one thing, and then when I found their boss… for once there was some challenge in a fight. I dragged it out for a bit so it wouldn't be over right away. And even like that, I got bored and it was over way too fast."

Sitting in seiza position, back straight, Genos squinted while carefully putting away the spare parts littering the table.

"You said he was strong, and even the toughest dude ever, quoting your own words…"

"Yeah. He was. I never fought someone this strong in my whole life. He could even have destroyed the entire planet in one second, poof, just like that. It's been more than a year since the last time I had a fight not entirely boring."

On the tv screen, the newscaster was speculating on the future of A city, the impact on its real-estate and stock-market compared to what happened with Z city, destroyed five years ago and never rebuilt. Saitama turned his head away, looking up at the sky veiled by the white curtain rippling with the warm breeze.

"But I dunno…" Saitama sighed with a strangely distant voice. "I'm kinda disappointed, I guess."

Genos' hands stopped moving, and he stared intently at the back of his teacher's bald head.

"… Disappointed? What do you mean, sensei?"

Saitama kept quiet for a moment, and Genos held his breath, feeling suddenly uneasy and anxious. Even if he couldn't see more than his back, there was something dark and heavy in Saitama's posture, like a tension radiating from the back of his neck. But the cyborg couldn't quite grasp what that was.

And then Saitama's shoulders sagged and he turned back with an annoyed pout – he looked normal again, like nothing happened. Maybe Genos had just been imagining things.

"That alien jerk fucked up my suit," the hero complained while pinching between his thumb and index finger what was left of his cape. "And you know how much I'm fond of it, I told you what it means to me."

"I could try to sew it back if you want, sensei."

"The fabric was special, fireproof and nearly impossible to tear, so it won't be the same if you use another one to replace the cape."

"What do you intend to do, then?"

Genos had to close his fists to refrain from suggesting once again – in vain – to sew him a different hero suit style. Sighing, Saitama reached for his collarbones and zipped down his suit.

"I dunno." he said wiggling to take off the sleeves without tearing the holes even more. "First, I'm gonna take a nice bath. I got gravel and dust everywhere."

It took less than a millisecond for Genos to jump on his feet.

"I'm going to run the bath, Saitama-sensei!"

"Eh? Thanks Genos, but you know, I can do it myse-"

Genos didn't hear the end of the sentence, he was already dashing towards the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. His training and Kuseno's upgrades were efficient, judging by the speed used to turn the faucet and kneel to bend above the bathtub. Steam rose up in thick fog around the focused cyborg who was controlling the temperature with the tip of his fingers. With his other hand, he carefully put the rubber duck on the water that was beginning to fill up the tub – according to his meticulous observations before he even started living here officially, he noticed that Saitama never took a bath without it floating with him. The yellow duck nodded and slowly turned on itself until its beak poked his metallic fingers. Genos stared down at it, then pushed it so it would sail away, thinking about his sensei's suit problem.

Genos didn't have that kind of problem himself since he didn't wear a hero suit, just like the other S rank heroes. But this unitard and cape basic outfit seemed very precious to sensei – he even refused adamantly all the new suits ideas Genos designed. He showed him more than thirty sketches among the hundreds he drew aiming to highlight his body and strength, but he got turned down enough to figure out Saitama was getting annoyed about it.

Indeed, Saitama-sensei proudly wore his cheap hero suit and his bald head, and never tried to hide it or improve his looks. That surely was a sign of wisdom Genos had yet to achieve. He still had so much to learn from sensei.

When the water temperature became optimal and the bathtub filled just enough – if his calculations were correct – to allow Saitama's body to enter without overflowing, Genos stopped the water and came back to the living room.

He paused and stared. His teacher had his back to him and was naked, holding his suit to inspect it from every angle. In the background, on the television, fans were fawning over Amai Mask singing a sappy love song under the spotlight. Lyrics were scrolling on screen so viewers could sing along with him. But Genos stayed focused on Saitama's naked back as the man poked a finger through a hole in the yellow fabric. His shoulders sagged sadly.

"Ah… it's really fucked up…" he sighed hanging it up on the hook fixed to the wall.

"Sensei."

"Mh?"

"The bath is ready."

"Ah, thanks, Genos."

Saitama turned back shamelessly and walked past him, their shoulders brushing in the way. Sensei had no issue with his naked body, as the cyborg already wrote down in this notebooks n°1, 22, 187, 301, 745, 883, 1032 (pages 5 to 26), 1444, 1789, 2108, 2891 and 3420. An idea crossed his mind when Saitama opened the bathroom door.

"This tailor you told me about," he said thoughtfully. "The one who made your suit…"

"Yeah, what about him?"

Hand on the door handle, Saitama was looking at him with his usual blank face.

"Do you think he could make you another one, using the same special fabric?"

"Oh. Hm… Dunno. Last time I saw him more than two years ago, he said something about closing down his shop and retiring. I don't even know if he still lives over there."

"Why not see for ourselves? I don't think the Association will call us for a few days. I'll pay whatever it takes to persuade him to sew back your suit."

"I thought you didn't like my suit," Saitama smiled incredulously. "But yeah, that's a good idea. I got nothing else to do anyway and it'd be nice to see the old man again."

Saitama disappeared in the bathroom, and Genos pulled out his notebook n°3784 to finally take the time to write down his sensei's heroic feats in today's fight against the alien invaders.