4 Chapter 004 - Finally

I drive off. It's not normal for me to drive a car and definitely not normal for me to be alone. Yet, my rage and distaste had carried me towards the abandoned part of City Z.

I get out of the car. I remove my coat and my sunglasses. The same warning is hanging on the barbed fence, as if it could deter people from entering the area.

So, I release a bit of my psychic and applied it to my feet, making me hover over the fence. I walk along the quiet neighborhood and am grateful for the lack of citizens. If not, I will have hundreds of people hampering me just to ask for my autograph. Then it would be too late to notice that the day is ending, and I never had the chance to see Saitama.

I stop on my tracks and shake my head. I am only here to remove stress. It's definitely not because of Saitama!

Stopping at the apartment complex he lives in, I look up. It's a few floors up, and I don't want to take the stairs. So, I apply my psychic on my feet and shoot myself straight to his floor, in front of his door.

I take a deep breath. I need to calm myself down with everything that's running on my mind. I need to clear my thoughts, or else I'll embarrass myself in front of him.

When I have a handle on myself, I knock. After a few heartbeats, Saitama's bald head appears. He's looking bored as usual and when he sees it's me, he greets, "Oh hey, Fubuki, what's up?"

I gawk at him. I am unable to answer. What's wrong with me? Going straight to a man's house because someone offered me marriage, and I thought that I would rather marry this man? I have only met him!

Besides, why this guy? He is not good-looking. For God's sake, he's bald! And he has that eternally bored look on his face and his superhero fashion sense is on haywire. Who would choose yellow as the theme of his costume?! Who would?!

"Ahm, Fubuki?" Saitama interrupts my musings.

Presence of mind, I thought. My attention returns to him. He is not wearing any shirt. My eyes travel from his bald head down his stomach. He's lean but muscular. His strength is obvious in the rows of muscles in his body. I shake my head before I imagine any perverted thoughts towards him.

"Are you here to criticize me?" he asks, "Then ask me to be your henchman again?"

But Golden Ball said that it will be bad for my health if I stop this feeling. Upon realizing my trail of thoughts, I walk towards the corner of his door and hit my head hard. Did I just admit that I am, actually?

I give my head another round of pounding on the door for the evil thoughts.

"Hey, hey, hey," Saitama starts. "Stop it. You're bleeding."

I look at him, this object of desire of mine. Ugh! I hit myself again before shifting my attention back to him. He seems worried about me.

"You're breaking my door. Don't underestimate your ESP. Are you here to fight again?" he asks, completely breaking my delusions. My eyes, that's become glazed, go back to their previous state. Did my object of affection just destroy my fantasy?!

But due to these rising emotions, I feel my psychokinesis going haywire. I am about to hit myself hard once again when a hand stops my head from smashing into the poor wall.

"Okay fine. Just enter," Saitama says, sounding like he's being forced to invite me in. Without hesitation, I follow him inside. Besides, further injuring myself will have dire consequences.

Saitama goes directly to a cabinet that is on top of the sink with two different colored toothbrushes positioned. He rummages through its contents while mumbling, "First-aid kit… First aid kit…"

The presence of a toothbrush is suspicious, so I look around the small unit. This place is too clean for a single man. Then, realization dawns on me—it pricks me and I clutch on my chest. Is he already with someone? Is there actually someone who would fall in love with him?!

I travel my eyes again. There are two sets of everything–the plates, kitchen utensils, pillows, and cabinets. It only strengthens my previous assumption. His apartment is clean, an impossibility for a man who lives alone.

My shoulders drop. It is an enviable fact, and it is constricting my chest!

With my energy depleted, I sit in front of the television. There are two pillows in front of it that are meant for sitting down. I take it and place it under my butt. All the while, my chest is getting tighter.

I did not even notice when Saitama kneels in front of me and says, "Well, I have nothing but a wet towel. Here. Wipe that blood off your face. Don't worry, it's clean."

I place my hands on top of my legs and bring my eyes down to it. Why am I hurting? I didn't even know the man that much. Is this heartbreak? Ain't it too soon to feel like this?

"Hey, Fubuki," he calls.

I feel my tears edging in the corner of my eyes, and I am surprised by it. I can't believe that I had feelings for him. It is too fast! Or maybe, am I just too easy? I raise my head to him. I want to know what his reactions will be if I ask him if he's with someone.

Unexpectedly, he retreats a meter away from me. He breathes a sigh of relief. He approaches, but he is still cautious, as if he doesn't know me at all!

"Damn! Don't scare me like that! With that blood streaming down your face, you look like a horror movie star."

Blood? Ah, it might have mixed with my tears.

He takes the towel that he drops on the floor and continues, "If you don't want to wipe yourself off. Come, I will do it. You are scaring me."

But then he stops. He might have seen the little tremors around my shoulders. I watch him drop the towel again. "Really? Are you crying?" he asks. He seems incredulous about our situation.

I did not respond.

"Ahm, wait... What did I do now?" he asks. He looks confused while peering into my face. He looks around, back and forth. He is perturbed and puzzled at the turn of events.

"What to do? What to do?" he repeats. He is hovering around me and is unable to do anything. "This looks bad, you know," he adds. He scours the area, probably to see if someone can see us.

Then the door opens. A voice comes which stopped my sobbing. "What nasty thing did you do, Saitama-sensei?" It is Genos.

"I did nothing!" Saitama denies. His voice is unnaturally a pitch higher.

"A crying woman and a half-naked man. There is only one conclusion. What nasty things have you been doing while I am out of the house?"

"Wait, Genos, seriously, I am innocent. She came, hurt herself, and then cried," he defends. He is already panicking.

I shift my attention to Genos, who has a look of prejudice on his face. Realizing my mistake with the existence of Saitama's lover, I wipe my tears. I know now that it is Genos who is living with him. Ah, it is such a source of relief.

"We are going to have a hotpot!" Saitama suddenly exclaims, as if food could bribe me.

"If we do that, you are going to starve—" Genos starts, but Saitama stops him.

"Shhh—" he says and covers Genos' mouth. He turns to me and asks, "Fubuki, would you like some?" he asks, while cringing at his own question.

I study the two. Can it be that the two have more than a Master-Student relationship? Not possible, right?

Instead of asking, I take the towel from Saitama and wipe my face clean of the blood and tears. The fight is not over yet. I won't give up on this feeling, like how I would never give up on being B-class rank 1.

"Yes," I answer, finally admitting that I am, in fact, is falling in love with the most unworthy looking guy there is. "I would like to have some," I add while using a voice that is a little bit earnest—a voice I never used since I was a kid. I smile brightly at him. It is a smile I had never given to anyone for such a very long time.

It froze Saitama and Genos, and they openly stare at me. Their mouths are hanging open.

"What?" I ask, feeling a bit lightheaded.

It is Saitama who speaks first. "Maybe you should apply for a movie star instead? I think that fits you better than a hero."

I don't know how to react. Is it an insult or praise? Still, the confusion did not stop the blush from creeping up on my cheeks.

"Sensei's starvation as a price to pay for an uncharacteristic expression," Genos pipes in before Saitama begins to chastise him.