9 The Worst Day

The weather was calm and serene. The rain had stopped, leaving puddles on the streets. As the sun rose on the horizon, it dispelled the gloom and brought a sense of light and optimism after the passing storm. Animals emerged from their shelters, preparing to search for food and sustenance.

Saitama lay on the ground, his blanket barely covering his form. Plates and trash were scattered haphazardly around him. The neglected television emitted only static, while the alarm clock blared, signaled the beginning of a new day.

Weary, he sat up and reached out to silence the alarm, letting out a yawn. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, with the flickering TV serving as the sole source of light. He fumbled around for the remote and switched off the television.

He got out of bed and switched on the lights, taking in the chaotic mess that was his apartment. A table had been overturned, and half of the floor was wet from leaving the balcony open. The room was noticeably cold , but that didn't bother him. Somehow, one of his shoes was stuck on the ceiling fan.

Yesterday he decided to "fuck it" and drink alcohol. Saitama was not one to drink, even in his past life, but he had decided to give it a try at least. It had started with half a cup, then another half, and before he knew it, he had downed a full one, and it had spiraled out of control.

And now, he was rubbing his temple for help with a hangover-induced migraine.

Note to self: This shit is not worth it.

He headed to the kitchen, grateful that it was still in one piece after his drunkard adventures, and poured himself a glass of water. They say water helps with hangovers, right? Three cups later and no change, he's been scammed

He grumbled as he shuffled to the bathroom to kickstart his day. After grabbing his toothbrush, squirting toothpaste on it, and starting to brush, he couldn't ignore the lingering alcohol smell on his breath. Scanning the room for the light switch, he flicked it on. It was then that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He immediately spat out whatever was in his mouth upon seeing his reflection. In his shock, he didn't control his strength, causing the mirror to crack and shatter. Frantically wiping his mouth, he picked up a shard.

He was faced with the same familiar face he had grown used to, the face he had come to accept and embrace, except for one major difference.

He was bald.

Not a single strand of hair remained, and the change was so sudden. Just yesterday, his hair was its usual spiky black self. He had even bought lotions and shampoo to care for it.

What made it worse was the way his head shined under the bathroom light. He didn't know how to feel about that.

He hurriedly exited the bathroom and bolted to his futon. As expected, he could see all of his hair scattered on the pillow. He let out a frustrated sigh.

He couldn't blame anyone but himself. He knew he would go bald during his training. He had hoped that by taking good care of it, maybe, just maybe, his hair would stay.

Guess he was wrong.

His home was a mess, he had a headache, and now he was bald. "One hell of a way to start the day," he chuckled sadly.

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The air was filled with the crackling sound of lightning strikes. cars zoomed by the roads, splashing water on unsuspecting pedestrians. Everyone shivered and bundled to their respective clothing up against the chilly breeze, except for one person lost in thought, Their reflection at the forefront of his mind.

Saitama knew that he had to come to terms with it. Losing his hair was inevitable after all, and there was no use in crying over spilled milk. However, there was one thing that made it difficult.

The stares.

Saitama was far from being an introvert. Yet, the constant gazes he received from people passing by made him uneasy. Some looked at him with confusion, others with pity, and a few struggled to hide their laughter.

Now if he could just get to th-

"Hey um- mister"

Saitama turned around to the voice. A young child wearing a jacket and scarf stood before him. "Umm- I have a question to ask you, is that okay?" the kid asked, fidgeting with their hands behind their back and appearing anxious.

"Sure kid, what do you want?" he knelt down to be at eye level with him.

" Uhh, I heard chemotherapy is painful, is that true?" Saitama's jaw fell to the floor .

"I mean, I think you have cancer? uhh, you look young to be bald so... that means you have it, right? You look young and young people don't lose their hair like old people." the child's innocent words hit Saitama hard.

He felt like his heart was pierced with multiple arrows. and none of it were from cupid.

"Timmy, come here!" a voice called out to the aforementioned Timmy. A woman in her late twenties appeared and snatched the child by their shoulders .

"Timmy, what did I tell you before?! You can't ask people questions like that, it's rude!" the woman scolded, and Timmy mumbled an apology.

The woman sighed. "Go wait in the car for me, okay?" Timmy hurried off.

The woman turned to Saitama, "I'm so sorry about Timmy's behavior, I just don't know what got to him to be so rude like that." The woman bowed to him. 

"No no no, no need to apologize. Kids are always like that, their curiosity always gets to them." He forced out a smile.

The woman nodded and hurriedly left after her child. He stood there in the streets, his mind refusing to believe what just happened to him. He silently started going back home, forgetting why he was outside to begin with.

This is the worst day of my life.