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More Than Human

Chapter 18: Rebooting

Notes:

Thank you for taking the time to comment! I read them all and enjoy reading your take on the story :)

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Saitama finished buttoning up his shirt as he stood next to the hospital bed that had been his home for the past five months. After a couple weeks of physical therapy and follow-ups, he had been given the OK to get discharged.

He still felt pretty weak though, and he minded the words of his overseeing surgeon as she told him he would have to take it easy for the coming weeks. Fortunately, Genos had been beside him at every doctor’s appointment to keep tabs on the smaller details of his treatment.

“Alright, I’m going to go finish the check-out paperwork. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait.” Genos returned from the balcony and took out the jacket from the duffel bag he had brought with him. “Don’t you remember what the doctor said?”

“Uh…”

Genos sent him a deadpan stare before putting the jacket over his shoulders. “You need to take it easy. Your body may not put up with the cold yet.”

“Oh, right.” Saitama looked down at the jacket that he didn’t recognize, and he knew it wouldn’t fit Genos. “By the way, where did these clothes come from? What happened to my old ones?”

“They… ended up smelling like smoke.” Genos added awkwardly, “...because of that fire I set.”

“Ah.” Saitama pursed his lips as Genos finished zipping up the jacket.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine! I’m more worried about your room.”

Genos smirked. “Don’t mind it. Anyway, I hope you don’t hate these. I tried to pick out things I thought you would like.”

“I don’t hate them. These are just my type. But… how did you know my size?”

“Saitama, I know your blood type and your retinal scan, and you’re asking how I know your sizes?” Genos asked, turning up the corner of his mouth.

“Oh… Should I know yours?”

Genos shook his head and smiled. “Are you sure you don’t need help doing that paperwork?”

“I’m fine. I can still hold a pen,” Saitama said, flashing a grin.

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

Saitama nodded and went out the door. 

Genos lingered at the doorway for a moment before turning to zip up the duffel bag on the mattress. He stopped his movements as his eyes rested on the empty bed. Now uninhabited, the room he had been used to seeing felt foreign to him. The past several months felt both like a moment and an eternity.


Five months ago… 

Blinding light assaulted Genos’ vision as he came to. It took a moment for him to realize the brightness came from the familiar overhead lights he was so used to seeing at the lab. 

Before full consciousness set in, his arm automatically reached out to the side as if trying to grasp something but to no avail. 

“Genos, are you awake?”

The worried voice of Doctor Kuseno was heard in the background, but Genos kept his eyes on the empty spot next to him. “S… Saitama… What happened to him?”

Genos turned his head at the Doctor’s silence. “Doctor… Is he…?”

“He’s alive. It’s been a week since the invasion, so we still need to work on fixing you up,” Kuseno replied, but he quietly turned to his workbench with no further explanation.

Though the panic subsided somewhat, Genos heard the stiff intonation of the Doctor’s peculiar words. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Genos, the less you focus on your own recovery, the longer it will take before you can see him.” The vagueness of that statement provided Genos no comfort.

“Father, please,” he begged in a voice so small it was like a child’s. “I need to know.”

Kuseno stopped his tinkering and put down his tools. He turned from the workbench, surrendering to his paternal instincts. “He’s at the General Hospital in A-City. He… hasn’t woken up yet.”

“What do you mean?” Genos wanted to sit up from the lab table but found there were many parts of him still missing from his bare skeleton.

Kuseno went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at Genos’ exposed core that he had finally finished stabilizing before meeting his shaking gaze empathetically. “He’s in a coma, son.”

From that point on, Genos felt discombobulated and detached from his surroundings. He could barely focus on the Doctor’s subsequent explanation. He heard pieces of what happened after wiping out the alien fleet—how both he and Saitama managed to use One Punch, but only he got the recognition; how Saitama had saved his life at the near cost of his own; and how he was fresh out of surgery fighting to survive. 

Kuseno saw the devastation on his son’s face, and he wanted nothing more than to tell him everything was going to work out—to take all of his pain away from him. “Let’s get you back to health first, Genos. He’s being given the best care right now.”

“But he’s still alone,” Genos choked out. “There’s no one there beside him.”

“I made sure that didn’t happen.” Genos was perplexed at that, but Kuseno told him that Mumen and King took turns at his bedside.

“They know about him?”

“Yes. He had contacted them fairly recently. We, of course, are keeping his identity a secret.”

Genos felt an ounce of reprieve at that. Saitama was in the best possible hands. That’s what mattered. “Okay, Doctor. I’ll focus on my care.”

Kuseno got back to work and within the next 48 hours, Genos was already up and able to walk around the lab. He had been stripped of the weaponry and armor that he had used at the invasion, and he was still trying to get used to walking and coordination again with the new body Kuseno had recast for him. 

Genos took his time descending the stairs into the vast hangar-area of the lab. He eyed the doorway hidden beneath the stairwell, feeling like it had been months rather than days since he had last been there. 

Genos stood at the doorway of his room. Even though it was his, he felt like he was entering another’s lair like he was no longer welcome. The smell of smoke still permeated the air, and Genos turned to gaze at the charred remains of his notebooks on the desk. The bed was unkempt and under it, he saw something dark resting beneath.

Dragging it out, he found that it was an open duffel bag. Genos sat on the bed, placing it next to him, and fished out a couple plain shirts. He knew very well who these belonged to, and he unabashedly buried his face in the fabric. He wanted to cry, and he wanted to do so even more as he found that there were no traces of Saitama’s scent in them. It was just the smell of ash.

Genos clutched the shirts to his chest as he lay down on the pillow he hadn’t used in years. He curled into a ball and inadvertently whimpered into the clothes he hid his face with. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, but just for a moment, he hoped that he could be taken away from this cruel reality he was now forced to live in.


It took days for Genos to regain the strength he needed to go outside. It was no wonder that the emotional turmoil had caused him to run out of energy more rapidly, so he needed to increase the frequency of his core charging. Genos remembered the days in which he was stuck in the lab for months after the first invasion as his current predicament felt dismally similar.

It was the dead of night as he silently pulled up to the General Hospital in A-City. Hiding his bike within an alleyway of the complex, Genos then analyzed the mental map of the hospital he had downloaded earlier. Locating Saitama’s room took only a moment, and Genos propelled himself to land onto the balcony undetected.

After hacking the door’s security from the outside, Genos stepped in and the clean scent of disinfectant greeted him first. The second would be the immobile form on the bed that he barely recognized.

He moved slowly around the periphery of the bed as his mind tried to process the image of Saitama’s head covered in layers of bandages with a tube going down his throat. He had never seen him look so fragile before.

Genos gripped the guardrail of the bed that was draped with tubes and wires connecting to various machines. He finally realized the full weight of his situation now that Saitama was before his eyes. The cruelty of their fate was too much to bear. One was cursed to stay awake and the other was resigned to remain asleep.

“I’m so sorry…” He struggled to speak as he kept his gaze on Saitama’s closed eyes.

“I… I never should have found you. You worked so hard to build a new life, and I… took it from you.” Despite his lack of lungs, he felt suffocated as he choked out his words. “I’m so stupid. How could I not see how much disaster I would bring to your life?”

“But even now, would you allow me to watch over you? Can I be selfish enough to make sure you’ll be okay? And when you wake up, I’ll disappear. It’ll be like we never met. You’ll go back to being happy.”

And so, Genos remained until daybreak when he departed as secretively as he arrived. This was now his nightly routine.


Some nights were harder than most.

“What did you save me for? I don’t… understand.” Genos’ raspy voice resounded in the room. He looked at Saitama's form beside him as he sat in the chair next to the bed. “I wish you didn’t. You’re the one who deserves to be here.” 

The image of Saitama getting struck by debris was cemented in his mind as well as the sight of him bleeding out beside him as he lay motionless. The memory came back now and then like a tidal wave, but he still never felt prepared for the impact. 

But it was then that he recalled something new. It was a piece of the memory that he would not have processed had he not been ruminating it for days. He now realized what Saitama had said over his shoulder before he saved him.

“You’re going to be okay.”

Genos’ mind echoed the words as he shook his head. “No… I’m not…”

Genos felt like he was going to break down any moment and for the first time, reached toward Saitama for comfort. He lightly rested his hand on his as he fought to find his bearings. But the rising emotions needed an escape, and he hunched over with his forehead resting on the bedside. Though it was true that he couldn’t let out tears anymore, that didn’t stop him from sobbing well into the night.


Other nights passed in which he couldn’t find the words. So he sat beside him and held his hand. He would take in all the bandages that still hid most of his face, and his eyes would follow the tubes that trailed from his body to the whirring machines. The rise and fall of his chest looked artificial, but it was proof he was still alive. Genos looked down at the smaller hand that rested in his. Saitama had saved him with that hand over and over in the past, and even now, he had managed to pull off the impossible and save him again. Genos still didn’t know the “how” or “why”, and it still wouldn’t matter to him if his hero didn’t return back safe and sound.

He rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand, noting the warmth that still existed there. He would never give up on him. As it was in the past, it would still be so in the present.


“You know, I thought I was doing well when we separated.” Genos recalled when he and Saitama parted at his apartment. He had been so distraught with guilt that he ran away to train remotely for weeks. He had worked hard to keep his focus on mastering his upgrades and only that. “I thought I was strong keeping my emotions in check or just not feeling them at all.”

Genos leaned forward in the chair and buried his head in his hands, gripping at his hair. “But, just the sight of you… just a few words from you was all it took to ruin me again. Right now… I’d want nothing more.”

The harsh truth was that in all the years they’ve known each other, Genos and Saitama’s time together was far exceeded by their time apart. It was as if they were star-crossed and could only meet for a moment before being ripped from one another again. And Genos was beginning to believe that this was simply how it was meant to be.


It had been two weeks since he had woken up, and Genos stepped into the room to see Saitama’s peaceful face, now free from some of the bandages. “There you are. You’re looking better.” 

He held his hand but never got closer beyond that. “I should… be going back to what I’m supposed to be doing. To prepare myself for the separation… I need to go back to my work.”


Before Genos finished dismounting his bike, paparazzi had hovered around him like a swarm. Even as he made his way to the entrance of the Hero Association headquarters, they followed after him with questions.

“Demon Cyborg! Can you explain what happened the day of the invasion?”

“Are you ready to return to work now that your repairs are finished?”

“Do you have any words for those that suffered casualties or lost loved ones?”

Genos felt that question strike a cord within him, but he continued on through the doors without so much as a glance in their direction.


In no time, Genos was assigned to a high level mission after getting screened for approval by the Association. To be safe, however, all his initial tasks had him being accompanied by another S-Class hero—much to his dismay.

Genos was thrown back with great force as he dealt with a demon-level threat in Y-City. He was about ready to jump in again when his legs buckled beneath him, and he had to brace himself against the ground. 

“Move over, brat. I got this.”

Genos scowled at Tatsumaki floating in front of him from his kneeling position. “I’m fine.”

Tatsumaki furrowed her brows at his scathing tone. “You know what? That’s your problem.”

“What?”

“Do you even care about your life? If you really don’t, maybe you should consider the people that care about you.” She turned to face him with her arms crossed.

Genos returned her glare with his own as he shakily stood upright. “You think an S-Class can afford to think about hesitating on the battlefield?”

She simply shrugged. “Why not? We’re still human.” 

Genos blinked at her nonchalance.

“Like it or not, our lives don’t belong to just us. Bang has his pupil. I have my sister. You must have someone, too.” She spoke very plainly as if the words she said were the most obvious things in the world. “Look, I’m not trying to give you a pep talk here, but I will knock some sense into an idiot when I see one.” 

Tatsumaki floated down so she was at his eye-level and spoke in a softer tone. “You put up with too much, kiddo. It’s okay to retreat sometimes.”

She turned and floated away toward the threat, but not before leaving a parting message. “And thanks. You really did save us all. So, if you really think that your life is a throwaway, then you may as well believe that all those lives you saved were just as meaningless.”


Genos strode quickly to where Kuseno sat busy at work. What Tatsumaki had told him still rang clearly in his mind, and he had rushed home to the lab when the mission was completed.

“Doctor, I’m sorry. For what I was about to do back then.”

Kuseno turned to see Genos with clenched fists and his head down. But it was no mystery as to what he was referring to. After all, the predicament of Genos’ near-death still haunted the Doctor’s dreams. “Oh, my boy… Please, just treat yourself better.”

Genos relaxed slightly as the Doctor reached up to hug him. “I’ll work on it.”

Kuseno directed him to sit down on a lab table for some routine tune-ups. After some time, the Doctor eventually broke the silence. “Son, I’m sorry I let him read your notebooks. I betrayed your trust. I understand if you can’t forgive me.”

“No, I know why you did it. You wouldn’t have gone so far if it wasn’t for my safety.”

“But if I hadn’t put such a task on his shoulders, maybe he wouldn’t have rushed out to the battlefield.”

Genos gripped the edge of the table and bowed his head. “Then, I am also to blame. I should have just let him go when I saw him again. I should have pretended he was someone else and let him live his life.”

Kuseno put his tools down and stood in front of him, securing eye contact. “Genos, do you know what he said to me when he arrived here?”

Genos shook his head. He had not yet considered what inspired Saitama to come to the lab in the first place. The Doctor continued, “He asked only about you. You still fail to see how important you are in his eyes. He would have chosen to help you regardless of the danger. That’s why he showed up here.” Kuseno looked at the ground in thought. “You two are very alike in that regard.”

Genos leaned forward with concern. “He wanted… to know about my life?” Was it out of obligation that he felt the need to come and save me? I worried him so much to this point?

“Yes, and the heartbreaking thing is that above everything else, he sees himself as a burden to you. That might be why he had always kept his distance from you.”

“A burden?”

Genos remembered hearing Saitama say something similar about himself before. It was when they first had dinner in X-City and when they parted ways at his apartment. He had thought Saitama’s words were simply expressions of his desire to leave behind his past. At the time, Genos had no idea how to respond, and now, it was too late.

Why now, when he finally had the words—when he finally had the clarity to see Saitama’s reasoning could he not tell him? Regarding how Saitama saw him, whether obligation or not, was still left to be seen. However, his words of self-depreciation may not be due largely to Genos’ presence, but rather to something that Saitama dealt with intrinsically. 

“I didn’t realize he still felt that way about himself. I thought that if I left, he wouldn’t have to feel that way anymore.” He felt Kuseno rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Genos, he’s still alive, and he needs you now more than ever.”

Genos took in the Doctor’s words as well as the meaning they carried behind them. “I need to go,” he said with urgency.

Kuseno’s smile revealed nothing but support. “Be safe.”


Genos stepped into the hospital room that night with a different air around him. He strode directly to the bed and leaned over Saitama as he clasped onto the guardrails. “I need to tell you—I need to tell you that you have never been a burden to me. I need to tell you what you mean to me… even if you won’t want to see me again after that. But more importantly… don’t die thinking that way about yourself. Please.” The words came out in a flurry and were spurred on by desperation.

Genos knelt by the bed and rested his head against Saitama’s thigh as he held his listless hand. “Saitama,” he whimpered. “Please… wake up.”


And so, the following months passed. Each day, Saitama looked healthier, and every evening, Genos would return with new words of encouragement. This was a healing process for them both. He got so used to reflecting on and expressing words of comfort to the point that it became natural. Though there were some days when hope was a stranger, he knew he was all the stronger by being able to bring it back.

Then, the Association assigned him a faraway mission. Genos had made arrangements for Kuseno, Mumen, and King to visit Saitama, so there was never a day he would be alone while he was away. He trusted Saitama and everyone else to do their part, so he was all the more adamant in fulfilling his role as well.

He had faith that he would wake up. They had been through so much together; it couldn’t end like this. Genos wondered what would be the first thing he would say to him. There was a lot he had to tell him and a lot he had to express. He didn’t hold it above himself that he would do this with grace though. He wouldn’t be surprised if he started chastising Saitama first for not taking his life seriously. But, whatever the end result, he wanted to help him see his true worth. 

Then, the day came. It was near the end of the mission when he got the call from the Doctor. Genos remembered falling to his knees as he asked Kuseno to repeat his message for fear that he had heard him wrong. But Saitama had pulled through as he believed he would. His relief could only be rivaled by his sense of duty, so he finished the mission without a hitch and returned as soon as he could. 


Present day…  

“Are you okay? You’re standing there like a statue.”

Genos turned to see Saitama at the doorway. Apparently, he had remained in the same place at the foot of the bed. “Yeah.” Quickly zipping up the duffel bag, he stepped toward him. “Are you all done?”

Saitama nodded. “Wanna head home?”

Those words rang like a bell in Genos’ ears. What had exactly felt like home to him? It certainly wasn’t the Association, and the lab had felt dismal as of late. But now, this one person—who had told him how important he was to him, who had begged him to stay—provided him with all he needed.

Genos wrapped his arms around Saitama and rested his head in the crook of his neck to which the latter returned in kind. “More than anything.”