Disclaimer: I do not own One Punch Man. I only own my OCs and my story plots.

NOTE:

Mostly OC's POV.

" " is conversation

'Italics' is thoughts

Prologue

The first time I saw that person, I was fifteen.

The circumstances that led to our encounter wasn't all that dramatic or life-changing. There wasn't a monster off destroying cities or harming civilians, he didn't save me or do anything that would have left a notable impression, rather, we merely crossed paths in an empty street when the sun was setting, signalling the end of yet another day.

From the looks of it, he had just bought groceries from the nearby supermarket and was merely making his way home. In any other normal passerby's perspective, he's just that, another passerby. He wasn't all that eye-catching, wearing a worn and faded blue colour jogging suit. He has black, spiky borderline messy hair, although for some reason it's thinning, and narrow brown eyes. He have kind of a lanky build at first glance and a not so good posture. All in all, he looks... pitifully average really.

Due to living in a city that has a high rate of mysterious being activities, I always made sure to pay extra attention to my surroundings, especially the people around me, the moment I step out of my safe house. One can never be too careful, after all, most of said monsters used to be humans. It was the only reason why I even took note of him, because I took note of everyone and everything, and at that moment, I had labelled him as "not a threat" and pushed his presence to the back of my mind.

We passed the other and went our separate ways. I'm sure he was feeling fine, but I, on the other hand, was not. I left with a nagging feeling in my consciousness telling me to turn back around. I ignored it.

That was the first time I rebelled against my instincts.

Hemp

Chapter 1:

The man who became a Hero

I entered my small apartment, closing the door behind me with a soft click. I reached for the multiple light switch on the right with practiced ease while nudging my sneakers off and chucking it to one side near the shoe rack. Lights came on and I went into the bathroom to wash up, throwing all my dirty clothes into the laundry basket.

Despite being a very small house, the bathroom still has a bathtub, but I prefer to take quick showers instead of bubble baths, although the latter sounds really tempting after a particularly long day. Still, quick showers outweighed the thought of being butt naked when a monster decides to drop by our city. I really don't want to run out in only my birthday suit.

Having finished cleaning up myself, I carefully stepped out of the bathtub and towelled myself dry before making my way to the living room slash bedroom.

My wardrobe consisted of mainly oversized T-shirts and long baggy pants as they are comfortable, a few skirts and shirts for more formal occasions where I needed to act like a girl and not some unsophisticated tomboy. Really, the way I sit and behave at home will most likely— no, will definitely give the more traditional people a cardiac arrest. Grabbing a set of clothing off the bottom of the closet, I donned it and proceeded to flop unceremoniously onto my futon.

Turning my head to glance at the clock on the low coffee table slash dresser, I registered the time as seven fifteen. I sighed, burrowing myself further into my bedding. I'll just sleep early today then. ...As usual.

Since I was very young, I knew I was... different from most people.

I had no idea who my parents are, being found as a baby on the doorstep of an Orphanage, old enough to sit up and look around, but not old enough to remember my way home or who my parents are. If they are even alive that is.

I remember that while my peers were more interested in playing with each other and with the donated toys, I would always sit by a window and watch as people walked by. Their posture, their eyes, their expressions, the stories they tell in just those simple movements. I noticed many kinds of people, and never one of them are the same as the other, similar, yes, but never exactly the same.

Little movements, gestures, a habit that they themselves might not even know of. The sounds and pace of one's footsteps, the slight dragging of their feet signalling that they are tired or having a bad day, some were sure and quick, like they have places to be, knew exactly where they wanted to go. Running and disheveled appearances usually means running late for something... or running from monsters.

I like studying people, but I also like my solitude. I like observing my surroundings and finding which routes I can use to get where I want and fast, but I also like staying indoors to see which seemingly innocent and harmless furniture or object can be used as a weapon. A chair is a weapon if used correctly, a spoon is a weapon, a pen, paper, lamp, cup, tissue box, table, wires, snow globe, thermometer, a hardcover book. Almost anything can be made into a weapon.

As for my emotional state of mind... I seldom feel strong emotions. I tend to just categorise everything into five groups.

There is the "Hate" group, so far, there are no humans in it. I find it taxing to hate someone or something with every fibre of my being and wishing they were dead every second of my life. So unless that person or thing did something completely unforgivable or stepped on my tail, (mind you, it's a figure of speech, I do not literally have a tail) they will merely remain in my "Dislike" or "Neutral" zone. But I do hate creepy insects and spiders.

The "Dislike" group. Well, there's quite a few in it. Usually I steer clear from those people, just seeing their faces nauseates me, and I have no intention of wasting my day just to argue with them or pick a fight. I have better things to do, like sleeping.

The "Neutral" group consisted of every single person or thing on this planet unless they promoted themselves into my "bad" or "good" books.

The "Like" group consisted mostly of things I like. So far, not one human made it in... yet. I like drawing, I like reading, I like people-watching, I like Milo, I like making arts and crafts.

Then, there's the "Love" group. I love cats, or any animals in general. I find them less harder to understand than humans. Now that I've moved out from the Orphanage, I love my little living space.

I am different. Because I don't think the other children my age would be actively studying a person while plotting ways on "how to effectively defeat this person" and searching for something around them that they could use as a murder weapon. They didn't make five categories to sort things into. They don't view everything in a detached and distant sort of way.

...And I doubt they have psychic powers.

It's been two years, I'd see him around about five to seven times a week without fail, the man with the unassuming appearance. It was a given, since we lived in the same area.

I sipped on my warm cup of Milo, eyes languidly tracing a familiar figure quickly doing his daily set of exercises. I have to commend him, I wouldn't have lasted the first day. I've always preferred books and indoors over sports and outdoors. I flipped to the next page of my book. I'm unemployed for now, the place I was working at was unfortunately destroyed in a Monster attack last week. I had saved enough money to last me for about a year or more, so I still have plenty of time until I have to work again.

Finishing his squats, he proceeded to run ten kilometres around the reservoir. I mentally noted that he completed his set of push ups, sit-ups and squats quicker compared to the last time I saw him. ...Okay maybe I was getting a little too interested in him, but I am not stalking him. I just wanted fresh air for once and he just so happen to be there.

Over the span of six months since I first saw him, he'd lost all his hair and become bald. On a side note, I have to say he has the most perfectly rounded and shiniest head I've ever seen in my entire life. I had often wondered if it was because he had an illness or some unfortunate and incurable disease, but he looked fine other than having that constantly dazed look, which seemed to have permanently etched itself onto his face as time passes.

I had first seen him doing exercises at this very same park on my way to work. I did not see him having a job to go to, so maybe he was self-employed or worked from home? It was getting rather common nowadays, work from home I mean. Computers made it all that much possible.

Soon after he lost his hair, he started forgoing his jogging suit for a plain yellow jumpsuit with red boots, red gloves and a long white cape. He looked kinda like a superhero, no, he did the job of one. He'd been going around beating monsters left and right when no one was looking, of course, he wasn't that good at the start, but he got better, stronger, faster. Going home at the end of the day sustaining little to no injuries. A feat, considering what kind of monsters he chose to go up against.

I flipped to the next page.

I doubt he's a registered hero in the newly formed Heroes Association, otherwise, I would have definitely heard or at least seen him on the news or website. He'd always finished the job before anyone had arrived on the scene, and in the end, it was always someone else getting the credit for his work. Stupid people, the lot of them. Taking everything at face value and never bothering to look underneath the underneath. ...Or they just think he's a weirdo for doing things like defeating monsters for, err... free. ... ...Isn't saving people from mysterious beings a reward in and of itself? Well, anyway, that guy doesn't seem to care too much about fame and status though.

I glanced up for a brief moment, finding the telltale shiny dot at the far end of the reservoir, and refocused back onto my book again.

Over the years, monsters kept coming to this area and that man would always beat them. It was by chance, seeing him in action that one time a year ago. The scary and surprising thing was, he ended the battle with just ONE devastating punch. He had started training recently and yet, he attained that level of power in such a short amount of time. That day when I reached home, I had to wash my clothes of all the debris and dust that got onto me, it was less than amusing.

One Punch Man. I think the nickname I thought up fitted him just nicely. It sure definitely sounded a lot better than "Caped Baldy."

I closed my book and shoved it into my bag, deciding to head home for the day. 'Hmm, what should I make for lunch? ...Rice balls sounds nice.'

I passed by the bustling city, taking a detour in-between two large buildings, and all of a sudden, it felt like I've just entered into a whole different world. The street was empty and quiet, unlike the sounds of activity and life I had left behind. I ignored the signs of "Warning! Beware of Mysterious Beings!" taped onto all the pillars of the two buildings, and tug open the flimsy metal gate that leads into "The Terrifying City." It opened with an ominous screech and I slowly made my way to my district, fully aware that that man is going to head home soon as well.

Rumours are a funny thing. Most of the time, they are just that, rumours.

Many monsters appeared in City Z, of many shapes, sizes and colours. That man took care of each and every one of them. The following day, the news only showed the resulting damage on the public facilities, never researching thoroughly before handing the mass false information that a new Monster was around and rampaging, warning everyone to be wary.

No one knew what had truly taken place and that the monsters had already been dealt with. Rumours spread, and it was enough to scare away the civilians. Soon, the area we lived in became much less populated, most people having moved to the Central part of City Z. The area was practically a ghost town by now, but I was content with where I was and it's not like I have enough spare money to move. As long as this guy is here, to me, this is the safest part of the town as it could get.

I climbed up the stairs, walking straight towards the corridor where I can get a clear view of the street down below. I waited for a little while until I saw a shiny head turning the corner before disappearing into my apartment.

...I do not understand why I paid so much attention to him in the first place. Till now, I'm still trying to find out that reason, but there's something about him. He made me feel... non-wary. I don't have to be on full-alert wherever he's around, just knowing that he's living in the same street as me allow me to sleep easier at night.

He's a superhero in his own special way. He trained hard to become the hero he aspired to be, and I admired his relentlessness in pursuing his hobby to help people... or for fun. Whichever it is. On the upside of not being a registered hero, he's free from the complicated rules and bloody rankings of the Heroes Association. Sometimes, I wonder whether those people took on the title of a hero to help civilians, or just to gain the status and fame. Hmm... It could be a mixture of both.

He's a free person that comes and goes as he liked, but at the end of the day, he can be depended on to defeat the mysterious beings rampaging through cities.

... ...I like him ...and I should really get his name soon.

Author's note:

I have no idea where I'm going with this. Just had a plot bunny one day and here's a chapter, so... this story is probably gonna be sporadically updated due to having no storyline as of yet. Err, hope you guys enjoyed the read! Cheers! X3

Today is the 2 year anniversary of my first ever fanfic "Hydrangea" since it was published and also Izaren's birthday! XD

~kirakira_bluemoon