The Painter's Blood

A Reversed Blade

The Doctor was a brilliant man.

Saitama had seen him before, once or twice in his youth, from a distance. Even several years after he'd last seen him, Saitama thought that the doctor was far too lively and ambitious for his age. Of course... The explanation only made sense.

"Had I known it was you, I may have kept Genos from coming." The doctor said. There was no malice in his words, but they still stung. He knew that the Doctor was not seeing the Count that stood before him. No- he was seeing the boy he'd patched up countless times; the boy who'd nearly lost a leg to a bear trap; the boy who'd fallen in with less than savoury individuals.

"You were the one that built him, then." Saitama said. He was still in mild disbelief. After all, it's not very often that a life you've run away from finds you so easily. Despite the fact that he was taller than the Doctor, he felt as small as he had been back then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

He blinked, and was pulled unbidden into the past. His body moved as it had before, as if piloted by an outside force. He raised a hand to knock on the back door of the small house in front of him- the doctor's house.

Before his fist could connect with the wood, the door swung open.

"You're loud enough to wake the dead, kid. Hurry inside." The man said, eyes obscured by the gleam of the moonlight on his spectacles. Saitama knew he'd been quiet, but he didn't say as much. The doctor could hear very well, after all.

Once he was inside, he sat on the slightly off-kilter table and lifted his shirt, swinging his legs back and forth.

The doctor tsked, shutting the door and walking over hurriedly. He brought out a bag, opening it and taking out various bottles and spools of thread. "Have you been picking at it? I told you not to. It'll get infected."

Saitama hummed softly, not too concerned. He knew, as the passive observer in his own body, that it already was infected. Wether it had been the lake water he'd bathed in or his grimy hands messing with it, he still didn't know.

The wound spanning his side was surrounded by a faint, irritated pink, and it was swollen slightly from fluids building up just below the scab. The doctor grimaced as he looked it over, his brows scrunching up. "Have you been sparring with Garou?"

Saitama hummed once more, shaking his head. Of course, he was lying.
After all, it was fun being able to train with someone he wasn't afraid to hurt.

"Kid..." The doctor began, then sighed. "I'm gonna have to drain this. Promise me you'll relax? I can't hold you down like I used to."

The doctor was getting weaker as he aged, Saitama knew. That had probably been the only thing that had kept the prickling heat in his upper back from spreading. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

His eyes opened almost immediately, a completion of his earlier blink.

He was back in the medical wing of the palace, the doctor standing there as he had been before. His brows furrowed in slight concern as he looked up at the Count.

"You okay, kid? Is your head still..." He trailed off, and Saitama hummed softly. After a moment, he shook his head.

"No, no. I'm... I'm fine." Saitama said. He was still a bit distracted from his flashback, taking a moment to fully ground himself. "Genos. Is he going to be okay, I mean?"
The doctor looked at him for a while, as if gauging the reason behind his concern. Finally, he nodded shortly. "Yes. He's going to be fine."

Saitama couldn't help the small sigh of relief he let out, but he quickly looked back up as the doctor continued.

"I don't want you near him." He said, and Saitama tensed up. He opened his mouth to interject, but the doctor raised a hand and shook his head. "I understand that he can make his own decisions, but I feel as if he isn't informed. You haven't told him what you are, have you? Or better yet, who you are."

The Count's words died on his lips.
His heartbeat picked up at the thought of telling Genos who he really was. "He... He knows, then? About..."

The doctor hummed and glanced away, frowning slightly. "No. I don't think I can bear to tell him myself. I'll leave it up to you."

"Is this your way of getting me back? That was years ago, you know, and I-" Saitama began, and the doctor turned to him with a snarl.

"And I still haven't forgiven you." He said harshly. Despite his small, unimposing appearance, the curl of his lips made Saitama uneasy.
He was about to apologise for perhaps the thousandth time when the door opened.

"Your Majesty, Doctor." The servant said meekly, bowing shortly in greeting. They seemed to realise they were interrupting something. The doctor's expression relaxed, and he smiled at them slightly.

"Yes? What is it?" The doctor asked kindly.

"He's awake."

//Best I can do is 868 words.
//Take it or leave it, y'all. But how bout that backstory, tho?!
//Didn't check over this before posting. I'm too lazy rn, so I'll do it later.