It had been a long day for both of them, Genos and Saitama found themselves wandering through the streets of Z-City, keeping to themselves as the late afternoon sun dipped low in the sky. Genos spoke earnestly, detailing the latest enhancements he’d made to his systems and reporting on recent developments among the S-Class heroes. Saitama, on the other hand, listened with his usual blank expression, occasionally nodding. Despite having clawed his way up from the bottom of C-Class to his current position at A-Class Rank 39, he didn’t seem too thrilled about any of it.

You were seated on a nearby park bench, half-distracted by whatever it was you were doing, maybe scrolling your phone or just watching the clouds roll by. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed two familiar figures approaching. The tall, sleek cyborg was immediately recognizable; Genos, the S-Class Rank 11 hero known as the Demon Cyborg. The bald man beside him, less flashy but no less iconic in your mind, was Saitama, rumored to be unbelievably powerful, despite his unimpressive title and appearance.

Curiously, as the pair passed by, a few fans began to gather. But to your surprise, all their attention was fixed on Genos. They called out his name, asked for photos, praised his heroics. Saitama, meanwhile, received only confused looks and dismissive comments. “Who’s this guy?” and “Some low-tier wannabe?” His face didn’t change much, but there was a clear flicker of irritation in his eyes.

You let out a quiet chuckle at the irony. After the small crowd finally dispersed, Saitama sighed and crossed his arms, shooting a glance at Genos with that trademark bored expression of his.

“What is it, Master? Is something bothering you?” Genos asked, concern etched into his voice.

Saitama gave an annoyed grunt before dropping down onto the bench beside you with a heavy thud. He stared at the ground, lips pressed into a flat line.

“What’s bothering me is that nobody ever recognizes me.” He muttered, tone deadpan but laced with frustration. Genos remained standing, then looked over at you briefly, as if wondering whether you at least understood who it was sitting next to you.