Various x reader ||One-shots||

Two Lonely People || Teen Saitama

Ever since Saitama entered highschool, he though it'll be the same boring, dull life he had experienced when he was just a middle schooler. So naturally, he did everything with no desire or determination to excel. 

First day of highschool?  So what? Not like anyone will approach him, so he'll just sit tight on his seat and wait for the day to end. 

Friends? What about them? If someone wants to be friends with him, then they will be the ones to interact with him, no? if no one even bothered to send a single glance on his way, then that would mean that they are not interested in him, right?

Having a very complicated mindset and reasoning, Saitama unconsciously isolated himself. He was alone.

That is, until he met you.

The awkwardly silent, mysterious (Name) who he met with pure coincidence. Had he not thought of taking his lunch at the back of the school where a wilted tree sat on that fateful day, he would not have met you, the one and only person who made him feel contented. He was not alone anymore.

You made him feel alive. Breathing. Like he mattered. Humane. Whenever he talked to you sometimes, your philosopical words were so persuasive, he actually found himself appreciating every little thing in his utterly boring life. Your thoughtful, warm voice made him see the worth in everything, like his once, monotoned surroundings...

Slowly gained bright and beautiful colors that made his usually dimmed orbs shimmer in awe. That was how your soft, yet powerful words changed him on the inside. He felt normal for once.

Everyday of the week, he would head to the back of the school in a hurry. With a simple bread for lunch by hand, he would breeze through the hallways with excitement. What will (Name) share with him today? The beauty of nature? How dreamy and wonderful it is to just gaze at the sky? Or........... The emotions and feelings that arises within a person, when they slowly fall in love?

Despite the peculiar topic for two teenagers to discuss about, Saitama enjoyed it. He doesn't know how and why, but for some reason, the way you delivered each word mesmerized him. The way you, sit down comfortably with both hands crossed, uptight and firm. Yet once your mouth moved and synced with the words you said with your rough, yet genuine voice, you would shuffle from your position, either playing with your hair with a twirl by the index finger, or connecting your dazed (e/c) orbs with his attentive ones with a tilt of the head as you smile mischievously.

Once you asked the question, like a luring predator, you would gently clutch at his ebony eyes and pull them to yours. Like a trap, you would hook him and entangle him with your thoughts, and reel him in deeper within the topic. Why are people so biased? How come people still judge a changed person poorly as if they did not undergo change for the sake of another's expectations? The kind of questions Saitama asked himself on his lone days.

Atleast now, he has someone to confide his thoughts about. And it really helped that you understood and accepted him, the kind of acceptance where his doubts and anxious thoughts were wiped out clean. The words and reassurance he needed to know that he wasn't a burden, that was how delicate and careful you are with him, and he appreciated it whole-heartedly, enough to tug at the corner of his lips and send you a genuine, thankful smile.