Star Cycle
Chapter 3: Red Giant
Chapters: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4
Chapter Summary: Some days you’re better off telling your disciple to stop being so reckless. Others, you should probably just keep your mouth shut.
Author’s notes: credit for the flashbacks in this chapter goes entirely to this conversation. It’s been a week and I’m still laughing my ass off.
Point of clarification (I don’t know if I even need to make it but I might as well): Saitama and Genos are not a thing yet in canon time. Saitama’s still in intense denial and Genos is aggressively trying to swallow his feelings and ignore them at this point. Both attempts are about to go to complete waste as their memories keep coming back. Which brings me tooooo~
Point of interest: Saitama and Genos each remember their lives as gods in reverse order of each other (at least in this fic) if that makes sense. So Saitama’s fondest memories as a moon god were of the end of his life because of how much Genos filled a void for him and how much meaning Genos was able to give to him, and in the end he was able to look back on that and realize how happy he was. Genos, on the flip side, once he starts remembering everything is going to try to block the later memories out because he feels so guilty that he is responsible for his friends’ and his soulmate’s death. Eventually they’ll meet in the middle. It’s like the heartbreaking bullshit from “The Last Five Years”. Or something (I am musical theater trash too I can’t help it).
And as always, credit for this AU goes to @cinensis and @stickydoona
Enjoy, fam!
You can also read here at Ao3
Some days, Saitama wondered why he ever bothered getting his hopes up when it came to fighting monsters.
Other days, Saitama wondered why in the living hell he would let his disciple run off to fight by himself when he was overzealous.
Most days, Genos was the top of his class. He was level-headed, calculating, studious, and could fight even when he lost a limb. Or two.
And then the idiot would let his guard down.
And then the idiot would get hurt (well…worse than usual).
When the two had reached the sight of the monster attack, the cyborg took one scan of the surroundings and determined that he must be the one to fight the massive lizard for training purposes. And at first, Saitama hadn’t thought anything of it. The cyborg launched into battle as usual, canons ablaze, and he took the monster head-on, managing to deal a serious injury within his first attack.
That was about as far as Genos got before everything went to shit.
See, what neither hero had accounted for was that the large spines on the lizard’s back could unfold into wings. Before Genos could launch the canons in his shoulders to get airborne, the lizard redirected itself and smashed Genos into a building. At first, Saitama wasn’t fazed too terribly much, recounting the number of times the cyborg had been driven through buildings and highways and any other large structure.
When the cyborg was slow to stagger back to the surface, holding his head in his hand as the lights of his vents and canons flickered dangerously, Saitama realized he made a very poor judgment call.
“G-Genos!?” Saitama called out, leaping closer to the scene. Genos responded by glancing up at the older hero for a moment. His arm was torn clean off at the shoulder joint leaving some wires exposed, his clothes were in pieces, and some of his face plating had broken off around the eye socket, but he otherwise seemed okay.
“Sensei, I have this under control!” Genos called back, looking uncharacteristically irritated. Not entirely convinced, Saitama watched as Genos swung a punch at the lizard, clearly missing as the monster dodged effortlessly.
Yeah, no, something was definitely wrong.
Without thinking, Saitama charged towards the lizard and dealt a single punch, blowing the monster to bloody pieces.
“Well, that takes care of that,” Saitama muttered, shaking his hand out before the monster’s bodily fluids could seep into the fabric of his gloves. “Yo, Genos? You okay?”
Saitama found Genos hunched forward for a brief moment before the cyborg straightened himself and took a few wobbly steps towards his teacher, his expression serious as ever.
“Yes, Sensei!” the cyborg announced. “Forgive me, I let me guard down yet again.”
“It’s alright, dude,” Saitama grinned as he broke out into several chuckles, “I gotta say though, your aim on those punches suck!”
Genos raised a brow, his expression darkening, “What?”
Saitama broke out into a small fit of laughter, clapping his disciple on the shoulder, “We’ll work on your swings next time we fight. Though I thought your aim was usually pretty good!”
“There is nothing wrong with my aim!”
Saitama stilled, giving Genos a very quizzical look.
Genos talking back to Saitama like this…it wasn’t normal.
It wasn’t like Saitama cared, he knew sooner or later Genos would figure out that he was following a complete dunce that had nothing to offer, but the expression he was giving Saitama…
“Genos, are you okay?” Saitama asked. The cyborg jumped to alertness, seemingly coming back to his senses. The small jolt in his body proved to be too much movement, though, apparently, as Genos teetered over to the side for a minute, took a couple steps to catch himself, and ducked his head forward to hold it in his hands, groaning.
“Forgive me, Sensei, I do not know what came over me,” Genos apologized, trying (and failing) to hide his stagger in a bow. Saitama rolled his eyes and pushed against Genos’s shoulder to stand him upright, but the cyborg started teetering again and his scrunched up expression told Saitama that something was definitely up.
“I didn’t ask for an apology I asked if you were alright,” Saitama snapped. “Is everything okay?”
Genos blinked several times, his eyes squinting as he stared at Saitama.
Saitama knew that Genos didn’t have any blood circulating through his body, but as impossible as it sounded, the hero could have sworn he saw color train from the cyborg’s cheeks.
“I feel…” Genos started, his eyebrows knitting together. He pitched forward slightly before catching himself. His gaze shifted up to the sky, caught a glimpse of the moon, and he flashed the faintest of smile before the cringe returned and he admitted, “I don’t feel good…”
Most things didn’t affect Saitama anymore, and he was starting to come to terms with the fact that Genos’s well-being did not count as one of those things. The hero’s heart all but leapt out of his chest as the cyborg fell over, crashing into Saitama’s arms at the last second. Frantic, Saitama lowered Genos gently, trying to shake the cyborg back to alertness.
“Genos!” Saitama shouted, tapping the cyborg’s cheek slightly. His good eye fell close and the red beam in his busted socket flickered unnaturally. Trying to inspect the cyborg he brushed his bangs out of his face, his fingers brushing over a small dimple in the front of the cyborg’s skull.
Drawing his hand back quickly, Saitama yelped. Looking around in a panic knowing that anyone else would be more qualified to handle the situation than him, Saitama saw no one nearby and he cursed under his breath.
Shit, it wasn’t like Saitama could rush Genos to the doctor, the guy was a loose canon—literally! He needed to go to a special doctor or something to get repaired he—
Wait a minute.
Saitama pulled Genos into his chest and lifted him just enough to reach into his back pocket to grab a cell phone. Saitama flipped it open and haphazardly scrolled through Genos’s contacts trying to find the name of the doctor that took care of him.
What was his name again? Steam? Cranberry? Konbu?
Kuseno! Dr. Kuseno! Saitama found the name and dialed the number before holding it up to his ear.
The phone didn’t sound more than two rings before an old man picked up the phone shouting, “Where is Genos?”
“Is this Dr. Kuseno?” Saitama asked, fighting desperately to sound calm. “Genos is with me but he passed out, I think he hit his head!”
“My diagnostic program alerted me that his core went into emergency shut down,” the doctor explained. Saitama didn’t quite know what that meant, but he sure as hell did know it wasn’t good when the man added, “His brain is losing oxygen you need to get him to my lab within the next ten minutes or the damage will be irreversible.”
“Shit,” Saitama spat, “Where even are you?”
The doctor sent coordinates to Genos’s phone and Saitama scooped the unconscious cyborg into his arms and broke out into a full sprint. By some stroke of miracle, the lab was in the same city, but Saitama still felt like he was cutting it close when he busted through the doors of the cybernetics lab at the eight minute mark, nurses at the ready.
Saitama set the cyborg down on the gurney waiting for them and wheeled the away without a second glance. He tried to follow them, but one of the nurses stopped them at a large set of swinging doors.
“I’m sorry, sir, but this is the operating room, Dr. Kuseno will be out soon as soon as he takes care of your partner."
Saitama was rendered speechless at that, and was left to stand alone staring at the entrance to the OR in complete confusion.
Partner…?
******
Occasionally the sun would go out of site for a few days, leaving the moon god in darkness. The instances that happened were lonely, he had to admit, but in their system’s older age, the moon god didn’t mind so much. With the darkness always came a promise of a new light, a new solar flare, a new excitement to see the love of his life again
On the rotation that the sun came back into view, the moon god chuckled to himself as he stirred from a nap, his skin being tickled by the sun’s rays. I stood up and adjusted his robes, expecting some sort of phantom image of his love to appear at any moment. Along with auroras and solar flares the couple had figured out over the years how to project their images for more direct conversation when the sun and moon lined up just right. But when the moon god turned to face the sun, he jumped in a mix between surprise and concern.
They couldn’t have been out of view from each other for that long, but the sun definitely seemed….bigger.
And redder.
The moon god rubbed his eyes and blinked a few more times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. That changed couldn’t have happened that quickly, the moon god noted, the progression must’ve been occurring over a long period of time, he was just now noticing it.
Or he was imagining things.
Out of his own selfish desire to preserve his life, he hoped he was imagining things.
But, nevertheless, within moments the sun god’s image flickered in front of the moon, handsome as always. But he looked…tired. His normally tan skin seemed drained of color and his bright golden eyes appeared to lose their glow. To anyone else the moon was sure the change was too miniscule to notice. But this was his sunshine they were talking about; the moon could notice such changes from light-years away.
“Hey, Sunshine,” the moon god greeted; the sun rays that warmed his cheeks brought a huge smile to his face.
The sun smiled and said, “Hello my dear, I hope the darkness wasn’t too lonely while I was away.”
“It was no worse than usual…are you feeling okay?”
The sun jumped in surprise, giving the satellite a quizzical look, “yes. Why?”
“You just seem…tired,” the moon god decided on saying. He really didn’t want to bring up the fact that the star had literally expanded to a red engorged version of itself in just a few hundred cycles. The sun god may have been able to pretend he felt alright, but there was no denying the shift in his domain.
“I am a little tired,” the sun god admitted, shrugging, “The days are long when I cannot see you.”
“The days are constructed and measured by how quickly we can revolve around you, my love,” the moon god rolled his eyes. The bright red mass behind them kept catching the satellite’s eye, however, and he couldn’t resist but to peak behind Genos.
(Genos…yes, the beautiful god Genos. The god who could have given his heart to anyone, and here he was on this barren satellite giving his love to the lonely deity Saitama. What stars aligned to smile upon their soul bond, he wondered?)
Of course, as poetic as his hindsight may have been, Saitama had never been one for tact, despite the eons the couple had spent together.
“Are you sure, Sunshine?” Saitama felt his eyebrow quirk, “You’re looking kinda…big.”
Genos stiffened beside the satellite god, his face immediately fixing to a scowl. Saitama peaked up and glanced at his lover and felt heat radiating off the mere image of the sun god.
Or was it coming from the image?
Oh, Saitama fucked up.
“I’m…what?” the sun god snarled, shooting a glare at the moon.
“I—“ Saitama threw his hands up in defense, “Oh come on, Babe, I didn’t mean it like that—“
Genos didn’t give Saitama a chance to finish but instead his image flickered and disappeared and the moon god watched as the star across the horizon drew in all gases and flares that usually danced around the surface on their own accord.
Saitama leaned forward, squinting, waiting for some movement to come from the sun but…nothing. The star just stilled, and remained unusually quiet.
“Yeah,” the moon god sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “I fucked up.”
*************
It was over an hour before an old man with a mushroom cap for hair came through the doors, walking straight towards Saitama.
“I take it you are the young man who has set a rather reckless goal for Genos?” the doctor interrogated. Saitama jumped, feeling his lungs collapse on him.
Well, he had to admit that if Genos was going to be naïve about how stupid it was to follow him around, someone needed to at least straighten the kid out.
“Yeah,” Saitama scratched the back of his head, mind drifting back to the last several months he had spent living under the same roof as Genos, getting to know Genos, growing to admire the sincerity and kindness that came from every thing the cyborg said and did (even if it was said with a bitter string of curses and harsh judgment of the other members of the Hero Association). The hero heaved a sigh, “Listen, Doc, I’ve been meaning to tell him to lay off the goal. He’s a strong kid and—“
“Nevermind that,” the doctor waved Saitama off, dismissing the subject. He smiled kindly at the hero, though Saitama still felt himself withering under the stare in the old man’s gray eyes.
Oh come on, Saitama was Genos’s teacher not his boyfriend!
…Right?
“How is Genos?” Saitama asked, bracing himself for the worst, “Is he—is he okay?”
Kuseno sighed and nodded his head, “He will be alright. He dealt a serious blow to the head. His skull was cracked and dented slightly, but that is an easy repair. What had me concerned is his concussion. It’s not as serious as I initially thought, thankfully, but he will need to stay at the lab overnight for observation. And once he is home, it will likely take eight to ten days for him to fully recover, maybe even longer. In that time he is not to be doing any strenuous activity and he is not to be reading or staring at electronic screens. Does that make sense?”
Saitama, surprisingly enough, found himself listening intently to everything the good doctor said without drifting off in thought once. He was relieve that the cyborg was okay—beyond relieved—and he quickly realized that the last thing he ever wanted was to see the cyborg get hurt even worse because of him.
“I’ll hide his notebooks when we get home, then,” Saitama nodded. The doctor’s smile widened and the hero immediately felt the sting of judgment lifted from his shoulders (if only slightly).
“Very good, I will call you when he is ready to be picked up then,” the doctor said as he turned to leave. Saitama rocked on the balls of his feet for a moment and swallowed his pride before the doctor was out of sight.
“Wait! Actually…” Saitama gazed at the floor, the wall, anything but Dr. Kuseno. He couldn’t believe he was asking this, “Actually, could I stay here overnight too? With Genos?”
The doctor’s expression was unreadable at first, his gaze scanning and observing Saitama intently. But then he broke out into a soft chuckle and said, “Of course my boy, right this way!”
Genos was laying on a table, looking good as new. Saitama approached the table and sat down on a chair, clasping hold of the cyborg’s hand. Genos stirred from what looked to be a nap and the cyborg’s golden eyes flickered to life, their scanners turning on for a long moment while Genos registered his surroundings.
“S-Sensei?” Genos asked, his brow furrowing. The poor kid looked so tired. He was clearly not feeling well.
“Hey,” Saitama grinned, “Heard you took a hard blow to your noggin.”
Genos heaved a sigh and looked away, “Forgive me, Sensei, I did not pay enough attention to—“
“Dude, it’s okay,” Saitama squeezed Genos’s hand in reassurance, “You just scared me is all. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Genos stared at Saitama for a long moment then, examining Saitama with an intensity that made the hero wonder if his disciple’s scanners could reach into your very soul. But his scanners were not on and the more Genos looked the more confused he appeared to be. But slowly, a smile spread along those synthetic cheeks.
“Thank you, Sensei,” Genos said softly. “That means a lot.”
********************
“MUUUUMEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!” Saitama screamed sprinting at full throttle towards Gaia’s deity.
Or rather, Earth, as the inhabitants called it. Mumen looked up in surprise from the field he was tending to. A flutter of bees surrounded him, a few breaking away to great Saitama with a lazy buzz.
“Everything okay?” Mumen asked.
“NO! EVERYTHING IS BAD! EVERYTHING IS REAL BAD!” Saitama declared. Mumen recoiled at the other god’s panicked shrieks, only growing more confused.
“Saitama! Calm down! What happened?”
“Ohhhh, Mumen I fucked up,” Saitama danced nervously in the place that he stood, fists bunching up around his robes. “I fucked up real bad.”
“What did you do?”
“I need you to send an aurora for me!”
“What? We’ll need to go up to the arctic circle for that—“
“Then do it!”
“O-okay!” Mumen jumped. He waved goodbye to his bee friends that each found a flower to tuck themselves into for a nap and in moments the two gods had projected themselves to their usual spot. “Okay, what do you need me to say?”
Saitama fought down a blush and coughed, “Tell him I love him and there is a bouquet of sunflowers here waiting for him.”
“Aww,” Mumen grinned as Saitama tried to look at anything but the god of Earth. “But Saitama, why so suddenly--?”
A loud rumbling noise that sounded vaguely like a thunderclap sounded in the distance, though judging by the pitch and the vibrations it caused, both gods knew that such a sound could only be heard by them.
Them and every other deity in this system.
The two deities looked up and saw the blood orange horizon decorated by a solar flare.
Wow Saitama fucked up.
“Saitama,” Mumen gasped, “What did you DO!?”
“JUST SEND THE DAMN AURORA!”
In term’s of Mumen’s measurement of time, it took six month’s worth of auroras saying “I’m sorry,” “I didn’t mean it like that,” “Cheer up, Sunshine,” “I love you” and the like before the sun god finally stopped pouting enough to make up with his soulmate at the next eclipse.