Damn Heroism

If someone had asked him if spending the better part of his afternoon playing delivery boy was something he'd be interested in, it most certainly was not. If someone had asked him what he'd planned on doing instead, Saitama's unenthused eyes would've scattered in search for the nearest random object that would inspire him to come up with something on the spot.

It was times like these that Saitama really wished he had more excitement going on in his daily life, leaving no room for mundane requests. Whether it was beating up a monster or taking out the trash, such tasks were synonymous to him by that point. Granted, she hadn't technically requested anything of him, but knowing for a fact that he really didn't have anything better to do gave him a dutiful sense of obligation. Right before she'd come pounding on his door, he'd been just about to face off with a Level 4 dungeon boss from King's borrowed-without-permission handheld game for what very well may have been the hundredth attempt that day – he'd lost count. But if he was honest with himself, that was about the peak of any stimulation that life provided him with those days. On the other hand, he honestly did feel a little bad about trampling on the girl's sugar... and couldn't help but feel a little bad for her in general. He understood most of all – that desire of independence and proving oneself. Having never been one to judge or give advice when it wasn't asked of him, he actively chose not to stick his nose where it didn't belong, and just let people roll with the tide and figure Life out on their own. However, although luck had been on her side up until that point, it was only inevitable that her stubbornness may very well get her in trouble eventually. And, in accordance with his valiant nature, misfortune wasn't something that he wished on anyone.

'So, when did you become a hero?' had been the first question of many during their long-winded trip to the furniture store, making him second-guess his decision to open that door in the first place. A Genos Pt. II was in the works when the conversation progressively steered in the direction of having her entire life's story dumped onto him. Well, minus the mechanized body, cybernetic enhancements, creepy idolization, and the fact that she was actually... just some cute girl with an infectious smile. Sure, he'd admit she was cute – not out loud to anyone, of course, but his eyes didn't deceive. Whether that awareness had any actual relevance or influence, however, was an entirely different story; any involvement regarding attraction had long hurled itself out the window years ago when his sole purpose in life became to Get Strong. Still, anytime she was clearly upset and had that droopy, puppy-eyed look on her face, some innate part of him couldn't help but want to swoop in and fix it. Damn heroism.

"Oh, you're back," the shop keeper said as soon as he heard the jingle from the door's bell, and looked up to spot the two of them entering through the doorway.

"Yep! I'm gonna take it!" the girl exclaimed right away, wasting no time as she flashed the money straight out in front of her and marched hand-first towards the man.

Accepting the money, the man glanced over to Saitama then for whatever reason and shook his head with a light chuckle. "My girlfriend makes me do all the dirty work too."

Saitama merely stared at the man, wondering what the hell he was insinuating, but no sooner than the transaction was complete did the girl spin back around and grab him by the wrist to lead him over to the display.

"This is the one," she indicated, letting go of him then to point at the bed she was referring to.

"Cool," Saitama said, lifting the compacted bed up then with ease and supporting it against his shoulder as if it was no heavier than one of those rubber exercise balls. Bulky and awkward, yes; but no sweat to the over-powered hero.

Fixing his full attention back onto the girl then with a silent indication that he was 'good to go', he had to blink and catch himself for a second at the sight of her radiating face, brought on by what he could only assume was the thrill of officially owning a new bed – which, in Saitama's opinion, certainly deserved some level of appreciation, but perhaps taken down a few (or several) notches. The girl always emitted a kind of sparkle, he noticed, but its intensity all but tripled now. He'd hate to be around when she purchased something even more valuable, for fear of actually being blinded; had they been in the dark, there was no doubt that her luminescence would put any flash-light to shame.

He'd come to realize that this girl was as diametrically opposite to him as one could possibly be. The energy and innocence that came along with her youthfulness and inexperience coupled only with an over-eagerness for connection – all the things that Saitama did experience on some level at one point in his life; only to have been milled over and over again until he became the way he was now – flat; dull; his life's supply prematurely drained. The person still going out there and playing hero was only the hardened shell of who he once was, yet it was something that would go on blissfully unaware by anyone but himself, for there were no lasting connections in his life that had survived the metamorphosis. He was completely and utterly alone.

"Thank you so much!" the girl parted to the shop keeper with an impassioned wave, pulling Saitama back down to reality as the warmth from her glow retreated towards the exit, making an odd chill ripple across his skin. Then he looked up and realized the air conditioning unit was blasting right down on him.

Shooting a quick glance back at the shop keeper, Saitama didn't miss the strange smile on the man's face, making the hero feel a bit awkward. "Enjoy it!" the man expressed kindly with a more modest wave of his own.

But all of that was soon behind him the moment they stepped out from the shop and began retracing their steps in the direction they'd come, only with an additional passenger this time around.

Even if she wanted to, Beatrice had zero control over her giddiness as the pair of them strolled back down the familiar streets. The pain in her cheeks attested to that, unable to stop herself from smiling. Even if the man beside her reflected her excitement just about as much as a wall, nothing could subdue her elation at that point. Everything was falling in to place so well, she couldn't believe her luck. Of course, she had nothing to compare it to, and probably set her expectations far too high to begin with, but all the concerns and warnings that people had deluged her with prior to embarking on such a journey were constantly being discredited every step of the way. All those people were just too afraid to take any risks; their noses too buried in society's handbook. Well, Beatrice was well on her way to creating her own alternate version of the handbook, and maybe then it would give that single-minded mentality a worthy opponent.

"I can't believe you're so strong after only training for three years." Beatrice's loose observation whimsically broke the silence as the idea of opposition got her reflecting on the moment she'd inquired about his life during the start of their walk. With the conversation having somehow steered in her direction afterwards, it hadn't given her much time to really dwell on the details. Coming with the territory of being a spoiled, only child with the highest of expectations inflicted on her from a young age, she'd naturally slipped too easily back into that 'center of attention' mode, comprising of all the required responsibilities to perform and appeal to people's synthetic scrutiny. It was something she had to consciously catch herself on now, knowing that kind of pressure was no longer prevalent.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Saitama's one free shoulder offer a small shrug. "Anything is possible if you really put your mind to it."

Beatrice nodded. It was clear now that the confidence she so desperately sought already existed within this man, turning him into somewhat of a beacon of hope. He was living proof that anything really was possible.

"It's admirable that you knew exactly what you wanted and just went for it," she said.

Shifting the rolled bed a little bit more up against his shoulder, he said: "Well, you did the same coming out here."

"Yeah, I guess but," she started to say, her smile faltering a little bit. Forcing it wide again, even though it probably resembled more of a grimace, she said: "I still didn't have much of a plan for what I wanted to do after I got here. I mean, hopefully working at the flower shop will lead to something," she added, having already filled him in on the situation that morning, "but it's not like I'd be saving lives or anything..."

When compared to Saitama, every potential avenue seemed substandard, and a new kind of pressure was slowly developing. Now that her eyes had been opened to the extent of people's capabilities, it had her second-guessing everything. Without a doubt, this was probably due mostly in part to her totalitarian, achievement-driven upbringing, but it insisted on weighing on her even despite that acknowledgement.

"Everyone has their strengths in this world, and none any less important," he said. "You'll find yours soon enough as long as you don't let life get you down – the world needs more people like you."

That got her attention. Without stopping, she flashed her widened eyes up at him and asked: "People like me?"

"Yeah, you know, full of hope and light and stuff." She didn't miss the brief pause. "A lot of people... lose sight of that."

He'd been keeping his gaze straight ahead the entire time he spoke, but from the distant look in his eyes Beatrice could tell that there was a great amount of depth within them. This was a man who'd already had his own experiences with life, vastly different from hers, and it was something that she wouldn't yet be able to understand no matter how hard she tried. But instead of brushing it off as irrelevant, it inspired her to want to understand better.

Soon enough, their feet came to a stop just outside her front door, and the girl – with her keys at the ready – hurried to let them in.

"Right here is fine," she said, sweeping her crumpled bed sheets out of the way to make space for the bed.

Saitama put it down exactly where she'd indicated by the window, which, funnily enough, was the exact same spot where the head of his bed sat just on the other side of the wall. Taking a moment then to look around, the apartment was an exact replica of his own – minus all the furniture. In fact, the bareness of it brought him back to the memory of when he'd first moved in, which felt like ages ago now, but even though that monumental feeling had been pushed aside it clearly never parted entirely as it all came rushing back in that moment.

"Yeah, I know, it's a bit pathetic right now... " the girl mumbled awkwardly when she realized that Saitama was just standing there silently surveying the room.

Reeling back then, only to catch the subtle blush on her face, he said: "You gotta start somewhere. At least you have a bed now." He gestured to the folded up item on the floor, hoping it would offer some sort of consolation.

Regarding her again, he noticed that smile was already back. It really was infectious. "Yes! Thank you so much for helping me bring it over. I just wish I had something to offer you in return... " She trailed off, her eyebrows creasing as she thought hard about something. Then, glancing down, she realized that she still had the sardine cans in her hand. "I don't know if you're a fan of sardines, but," – she thrust them towards him – "here."

It was more Genos' thing than his, Saitama thought, as he eyed the proffered cans. So, instead of reaching forward and accepting them he gave a little wave and said: "Nah, keep 'em. They might come in handy if you ever need to bribe Genos again sometime." Then again, he didn't really see the need for bribery when she could just ask him – on the other hand, he had to quickly retract that mental invitation, as he hadn't really considered the implication. This was a small favor offered to her only considering the circumstance at the time; it wasn't to say that he'd always be there to answer to her beck and call. Would he still do it anyway if available? ... Yeah, probably. Damn heroism.

As if the devil himself had taken on the form of a certain mentioned cyborg, the light scraping of boots was suddenly heard echoing from the outer hallway into the empty room, making both heads turn in the direction of the still-open door. Pausing just on the other side of it on his way to the apartment next door, Genos quizzically peered inside.

"Sensei?" From the look on his face, he'd clearly been surprised to see Saitama inside their new neighbour's apartment.

"Oh, hey dude," Saitama said, shooting him a wave. "I was just helping – " Crap. Ever since that first day she'd introduced herself, he'd been in the kitchen at the time when her name had been mentioned, which, when asked about it later, Genos had conveniently forgotten.

Looking to her then, as though it might somehow give him the answer, he was thankfully saved from any further embarrassment when she proudly butt in: "I bought a new bed today, so Saitama very kindly offered to help me move it!" That bright smile was threatening to blind Genos too apparently.

Genos blinked once, but that confused expression didn't budge. Choosing not to inquire further, he said: "The Hero Association has just given me some interesting new information. I shall wait to discuss it with you inside when you are finished." And with that, his profile slipped out of frame as he continued on over to the adjacent apartment, the familiar jingle of keys accompanying him in the process.

When his eyes found her again, the girl's smile had turned a bit sheepish and the blush on her cheeks deepened. Her voice dropping to just above a whisper, she said: "He doesn't like me very much, does he?"

Saitama sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he considered the least offensive response. "Genos is a pretty weird guy, it takes a while to get used to him. But he is a hero, so even if he doesn't always have the best ways of showing it... he does have people's best interests in mind." And that was more or less the truth. However, if it was popularity points that the girl was after, she'd need a whole lot more than a few cans of sardines.

"Well, thanks again," she said, sighing with a toss of her head. "Seriously. I owe you."

"No problem – " His mouth hung open, about to end it with 'anytime', but remembering his earlier thoughts of not wanting to give off the impression of running a charity, he promptly shut it. "Well, see ya around," he finished off instead, flashing her a quick wave before turning and heading over to his own door only a few paces away, where he'd undoubtedly be bombarded with a million questions by an antsy roommate the instant that threshold had been cleared.

A/N: This chapter was originally intended to be longer, but I figured I would divide it here and upload the next part in a separate chapter since it kinda dragged on and I haven't updated for a few days now. Sorry this one's a bit bland and lame; I've been dreading writing it since I hate introductory-style scenes, but it needed to be done at some point obviously. I spent a long time thinking about how it would go and I still have a lot of issues with it but I really just want to keep the momentum going, and happy to show more of Saitama's POV at least. I didn't feel it necessary to detail the whole thing in one big conversation, so hopefully this will suffice. Next chapter will be more fun!