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The gardening shed was dark and musty. Spores of dust and cobwebs danced to the chorus of screams and roars beyond the wooden door, ticking the eyes and nose of a young girl as she curled in on herself on the cold floor. Faint streams of daylight peered through the walls of the wooden shed, yet the gaps between each plank were not large enough to peer through. Not that it mattered—the cacophony of desperate pleas for mercy coupled with bestial snarling had been more than enough a clue to piece together what had been occurring outside. The girl—no more than twelve years of age—could do little but shut her eyes and try to block out the horrific sounds of former friends and families turning on one another, engaged in a desperate bloody battle for survival.
BANG!
She gasped as the door to the shed shook violently, as if something large had suddenly been thrown against it. Her small body backed up against the wall of the shed, in an attempt to put as much space between herself and the door as possible.
BANG!
Again, the door shook furiously as the impact grew stronger. The girl whimpered in fear, eyeing the rusted metal lock barely hanging on. The door could probably only take one more impact before—
BANG!
The wooden door was ripped clean off its hinges, flying through the air violently and slamming into the back wall of the shed. The little girl screamed as the door broke into tiny splinters upon collision, raising her arms up over her head to shield herself from the debris. She fearfully turned wide eyes towards the now broken door frame, sunlight now pouring into the small dark shed.
Standing menacingly only a few metres away was a large grotesque figure—an amalgamation of flesh and eyes drooling and melting into one another. A gurgle erupted from within a porous orifice located in the middle of what seemed to be its face, rows of sharp teeth stretching and lining throughout its cavern. It heaved its heavy body into the shed, each step sending a wave of ripples throughout the layers of flesh on its body, its footsteps creating a loud ‘SMACK’ against the wooden floor.
Stricken with fear, the little girl could do little more than sob as she watched the monster slowly stagger closer towards her. Her heart hammered in her chest painfully as she squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that this is the end. She forced herself to fill her thoughts with beloved memories of her mother—of her kind smile and cheerful personality. Of her unending selflessness and her boundless compassion, the way she loved and looked after everyone as the town’s only doctor, and how she always made time for her only daughter despite her strenuous occupation and her widowhood.
The little girl made sure to think of only these things as before she died, she wanted to remember her mother as the beautiful and gentle human being she was, and not as the grotesque, misshapen ooze of flesh currently standing before her, baring its large gaping mouth.
Just as the tips of its sharp teeth grazed the child’s face, a beam of light suddenly shot forth from behind the monster. With a loud buzzing sound, the beam burst through the monster’s head, causing it to let out a sharp wail as its flesh splattered against the walls of the shed, its body soon slumping to the floor unmoving. The beam of light had missed the child’s head by mere centimetres, causing her to cry out in surprise as she watched the light burn through the back wall of the shed.
“Oh?” A voice—a human voice! The little girl whipped her head towards the doorway, eyes wide with hope and fear.
There, bathed in the bright golden lights of day, stood a thin elderly man with a slight hunch and greying bowl-cut hair protruding outwards. His eyes were wide with surprise as he took a step into the shed, accompanied by a curious flying piece of machinery that hovered close to his side.
“I didn’t know there was anyone still alive. Sorry for the scare.” He walked closer towards the girl as she watched him apprehensively.
The elderly man crouched into a kneel, knees clicking slightly as he did. He held out a course, weary hand towards the young child, eyes kind and sympathetic.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
You slammed your fist into the alarm blaring obnoxiously from your bedside table, the force of the impact reducing the piece of metal into a crumpled heap of scraps, springs and bolts.
Eyes wide and body covered in a sheen of cold sweat, your body heaved up and down as you attempted to regulate your breathing, blood and adrenaline rushing through the top of your head and down to the tips of your toes.
You bolted up into a sitting position, wide eyes frantically scanning around the room in attempts to register your location. To your left, a regular wooden bedside table carrying the remains of your metal alarm clock. To your right, a desk and rolling chair with articles of clothing haphazardly strewn across its surfaces. In front of you, posters depicting colourful characters from various TV shows as well as some of a certain blue-haired idol were hung up proudly.
You heaved a large sigh, falling backwards onto your bed with a heavy arm draped over your eyes. You were in your room—it had just been a nightmare.
BANG!
The slamming of the door startled you back into an alert sitting position, yelping as the rattling of the frame echoed the one from your dream—the eerie familiarity sending your heart pounding into overdrive once more.
When you looked towards the doorway, however, instead of a hulking mass of gooey flesh covered in drooling eyes, your gaze met with bright golden irises glowing amongst pitch black sclera.
“Where’s the threat?!” The blonde cyborg barked, metallic hand raised in the air menacingly as he scanned the room furiously.
“Genos,” you pinched the bridge of your nose in slight irritation, “Aren’t you equipped with Hyper Sensors? How about your Search Eye? There’s no threat here.”
The young cyborg slowly lowered his arm, synthetic eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I… detected abnormalities within your body. Increased heat rate and breath. Sudden perspiration. Common symptoms of someone under duress.”
Genos flicked the light switch on before briskly walking towards you, the heavy metal of his feet audibly tapping against the floor. He gazed at you in concern, pupils still analysing your condition as you ran a hand through your sweaty hair.
“I’m fine, sorry for snapping.” You gave him a strained smile as you patted the empty space on the bed beside you. He obliged without hesitation, seating himself stiffly on top of the soft covers with ramrod straight posture and fists curled neatly on his knees.
Your body had finally calmed down, leaving only a burning pain in your left hand—where you had slammed your alarm clock. You hissed as you observed the damage, burning red and purple skin accompanied by angry pulsing veins stretching from your fingertips and down to the middle of your forearm. That definitely wasn’t good—the adrenaline must have triggered it.
Never missing a beat, Genos’ golden irises immediately honed in onto your injured arm, metallic hands reaching forward to grasp it within his hold gently. As he did, you leaned towards your bedside table to open one of its drawers, taking out a bronze glass bottle of oral morphine with your right hand.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” He asked quietly as you took a long swig of the bottle’s contents. He frowned as he watched you, “That’s a bad habit. You’ll develop an addiction.”
“I think I already did.” You laughed dryly as you wiped your mouth of stray drops. Genos’ face twisted at your words, and you immediately regretted them.
“Sorry,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “Seriously, don’t worry about it. That’s my job after all—worrying about
you,
that is.”
You turned your body around to face him, crossing your legs over one another as you brought your hands up towards his head. Already anticipating your actions, the cyborg bowed his head obediently as he let you cup his head between your palms, ruffling the blonde synthetic strands of hair affectionately.
“Since when did you become so reliable, huh?” You teased fondly, “You’re almost as big a nag as me, now. Is that my fault? Good thing I’ll be out of your hair soon, huh? No need to be burdened by me anymore once I move out.”
Genos grasped your wrists gently, bringing them down from their place buried in his hair to rest on his lap. His head remained bowed as he drew gentle circles onto your skin, soft voice murmuring.
“You could never be a burden. After all, you along with Dr. Kuseno are the ones who saved my life.”
“Ah,” you smiled sheepishly, “Nah
,
I could barely do a thing back then. My medical skills weren't as good as they are now.”
Genos tightened his grip on your wrists, firmly shaking his head as he raised it to stare intently into your eyes. “But you were the one who stayed by my side the whole time. Even though your body would ache while sleeping in that chair—you refused to leave my side even for a second. It was… extremely comforting to wake up after endless painful nights, not alone.”
The young blonde brought your wrists up towards his face, so that both palms cradled his cheeks. Allowing him this rare moment of vulnerability, you rubbed your thumbs over the synthetic material, watching how your companion melted into your touch much like he had done during his transformation to become a cyborg. The procedure had left his head for last, and you’d often stroke his head as an attempt to comfort the young boy. Although he no longer possessed his nerve endings, Dr. Kuseno had installed touch receptors within his metallic body so that the blonde could at least register when something was touching him. Based on his penchant for physical touch, you concluded that the poor boy found some kind of comfort within the pressure these touches provided.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, save for the soft whirring of Genos’ body lulling him into relaxation.
“I’ll miss you.” He quietly mumbled into the still room. Your eyes softened as you lowered your head to meet the blonde’s, forehead resting against his.
“I won’t be gone forever. You can call me anytime.” You whispered back, “I’ll miss you too.”
・✚・
You swung open the door to your new apartment, flicking on the light switch to illuminate the small narrow hallway. You coughed a little as the door’s movement swept up a thin layer of dust into the air—clearly the room had been out of use for a long time.
Wheeling your suitcase inside, you set it against the wall of the hallway before endeavouring to explore the rest of the rooms, peeking inside the two doors parallel to the hallway to find an equally musty bathroom and kitchen respectively. You quickly stepped back and shut the doors before walking towards the one at the end of the hallway, leading to a more spacious square room that contained a large glass door leading out into the balcony.
You slid open the glass door and stepped outside, relishing in the light breeze as you gazed down at the ghostly empty streets littered with stains and various pieces of litter floating in the wind. The open air was a much welcome change from the small dingy apartment room, but you couldn’t complain—you had a multitude of reasons to seek out a small, unassuming residence within the Ghost Town of Z-City, after all.
After a few more minutes of resting, you retreated back into the room and began to unpack your belongings. Once you were done, you sent a quick text to Kuseno and Genos updating them on your arrival at your new residence before heading out to purchase some cleaning supplies in attempts to remedy some of the rooms.
As soon as you exited your room and shut the door, the one next to yours swung open. The sudden movement caused you to yelp, and the man behind it jumped and let out a short yell as well.
You stared at him with wide eyes, observing a bald head complete with two dark beady irises. Your gaze naturally drifted downwards to observe the rest of your new neighbour, dressed in a white and red hoodie with yellow lettering—wait,
oppai?
OH!
You blinked rapidly, eyes boring holes into his shirt,
Boobs. That—those are tiddies. Why is he wearing that? Is it an ironic thing or is it a horny thing? Uh oh, I can’t stop staring. Look away, look away.
“Hey, why’d you scream all of a sudden?” The man furrowed his eyebrows with a frown but out of concern rather than hostility. “That surprised me.”
“S—Sorry!” You waved your hands around flusteredly, gaze finally torn away from his clothes. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to live in the area, let alone right next door… I thought this place was deserted.”
“Oh,” he picked at his ear absentmindedly, “Yeah, it’s just me here. Well, you too, now. Say, you aren’t gonna be loud or anything, are you?”
You gave a strained smile, eyebrow twitching the slightest at his blunt question. “Er, no…”
“Cool.” He smiled easily, “Well, see ya.” And with that, he left, climbing down the stairs out the building complex. You were left blinking stupidly after his retreating figure.
That was abrupt,
you mused,
Didn’t even introduce himself. As far as neighbours go, though… could be worse.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“VROOHUAHUAH! I am the High Speed Chaser! Cower and flee before me, pathetic snails!”
SUBJECT: Re:Urgent
FROM: Doc Jr.
—
Genos, you can’t keep naming your email subjects as ‘Urgent’ if they’re not urgent.[1]
“I loved riding motorbikes so much that one day, I eventually became one!”
SUBJECT: Re:Urgent
FROM: Genos
—
It is urgent
Dr. Kuseno said that my coffee does not taste as good as yours
What do I do
“Now you’ll all feel the burn of my high speed tires when I run you all to the ground!”
SUBJECT: Re:Urgent
FROM: Doc Jr.
—
I’m pretty sure he’s just messing with you…
“HEY!” A booming voice bellowed from right in front of you. You looked up with furrowed eyebrows, slightly irritated at the sudden interruption.
Before you, a hulking mass of bright red metal that you’d recognised as a cruiser motorbike. Instead of a human rider sitting on its black leather seats, a vaguely human-shaped torso was instead protruding out of it, head obscured by a pitch black helmet that looked as if it were part of the body itself. Its arms were crossed in displeasure, biceps bulging as a display of strength.
“Listen when someone’s trying to take your life, you damn phone-addict.” The motorbike-man grumbled before pointing a leather-clad finger at you, “Now, prepare yourself and start screaming—”
“Woah, your body is crazy.” You snapped your flip phone shut, the multitude of colourful charms attached clicking together as you pocketed it before leaning around his pointed figure to properly observe the areas where his flesh moulded with metal. “Why are you part bike?”
“I already said why earlier!” It snapped, “My name is High Speed Chaser and I—”
“Wait, hang on,” you interrupted, holding a hand up to signal for silence before rummaging through your bag to fish out a small rectangular voice recorder. Once firmly secured within your hand, you held up the microphone towards the mysterious being. “Okay, go on! Start from the beginning, please.”
The motorbike-man stared at you incredulously, a small vein throbbing at the corner of its temple at the insolent behaviour. Nonetheless, he did as told, “My name is High—”
“Ah wait, I forgot to press record.” You took back the device and pressed a red button, a small ‘beep’ shortly following the action.
“My—”
“Huh? You’re kidding, the memory is full already?”
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”
The monster pounced, revving its engine and blasting towards you in a flurry of smoke. You quickly sidestepped away from its path, narrowly avoiding getting run over by a hair’s breadth. It screeched to a halt once it realised that you had dodged its attack, and sharply turned around to go after you.
You backed away a few paces, eyes trained on the rapidly approaching monster vehicle as you pocketed the voice recorder and prepared to exchange it for a weapon. Just before you could, however, a low honeyed voice spoke up from behind you.
“How unpleasant,” A mop of blue hair strode past you, dressed in a neatly ironed white blazer and prim black trousers. “Attacking a defenceless woman on the street… Let’s fix that attitude.”
In a flash, the man appeared within the monster’s blind spot, palm and fingers outstretched as if emulating a blade of a knife. He drove it into the monster’s side, the latter letting out a bellowing screech as its torso burst from the impact and sprayed splatters of blood and flesh onto the sidewalk. With a swift shake of his hand to rid of the dripping remnants of blood, the man let out a small sigh and stood up straight before turning around to languidly walk over to you.
With a gentle expression on his face, he asked, “Are you alright?”
You blinked the starstruck sparkles away from your eyes in favour of bowing politely. “Oh, yes! Thank you for saving me… Sorry for the trouble.”
“No, it’s my pleasure really.” He smiled serenely, aureolin eyes giving you a once-over. They lingered on the distinct white and black uniform, complete with a light blue tie. “You work for the Hero Association?”
“Yes, I start today. I was actually on my way there before…” You gestured to the bloodied remains of the monster.
“Is that so? Well, why don’t I escort you there?”
“What? Oh—no, it’s fine!” His charming smile threw you into a light frenzy, a small blush decorating the apples of your cheeks. “I know you’re busy—what with the newest season for your drama and all…”
“Ah? A fan of mine, are you?” His golden eyes narrowed in mirth, the smile playing on his lips growing wider although he wasn’t at all surprised at the news.
“Eh—hehe,” You scratched at your cheek bashfully, eyes glimmering in delight, “Yeah! I’ve been a fan since your portrayal of my favourite character in the manhwa-to-aeni-to-live-action TV series of ‘While Writing Gay Hardcore Fanfiction of My Two Attractive Male Classmates, I Was Suddenly Transported Into A Fantasy Dimension Where I’m the Princess of An Economically Declining Kingdom So I’m Being Forced to Marry Into The Royal Family of One of The Neighbouring Kingdoms But I’m Also Hot Now So I Have Ten Suitors Vying for My Hand and It Turns Out That Two of Them Are My Attractive Male Classmates, Someone Please Rescue Me From This Bizarre Fate And Send Me Back to My Dimension So That I Can Continue Writing My Fanfiction!’, and I’ve been following your career after that. Heheh.”
A little baffled at how you not only got those words out without losing breath, but also at the unexpected title drop of an incredibly old and frankly bizarre discography of his, the man ran a hand through his blue locks with an amused and slightly disbelieving face.
“Oh, that one huh?” It brought back memories of when he’d first began his acting career, landing smaller and rather obscure titles before breaking into the mainstream. They hadn’t been his favourite but the fans who enjoyed them were fiercely loyal and sweet. “I appreciate your ongoing support. It warms my heart, truly. Say, would you like a photo?”
“Can I?” You chirped with wide eyes, hand already reaching for your phone.
With practised motions the blue haired idol stepped behind you, placing two gentle hands on your shoulders as he leaned down close to your face with a smile, angling himself to fit within the range of your phone camera. You snapped a quick selfie with a barely contained squeal before separating yourself from the taller man and thanking him with another bow. He waved you off gently, happy to oblige.
“Shall we head off, then?” Seeing as you were about to protest, he continued, “It just so happens that the Hero Association is my destination as well. Please, allow me to ensure your safety from other possible monster attacks. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if one of my beloved fans gets injured.”
“Oh, well if you insist!” You chirruped, moving to continue down the street towards your new workplace before pausing, suddenly remembering something. “Er, actually…”
“What is it?”
“That monster,” you turned back to look at it, “Can I keep it?”
For the first time in a while, the man’s perfectly cool countenance dropped in bewilderment. “What?”
・✚・
You trotted up to the reception counter, greeting the bobbed brunette behind the desk with a show of your ID. She eyed the mass of metal being dragged in by your dominant arm and scraping itself against the tiled floors, a bead of sweat rolling down her face as she struggled to think of how best to address the situation.
“Um,” The woman’s wide eyes flickered to yours timidly, “We provide parking spaces for our staff…”
“Huh?” You followed her gaze down to the broken remnants of the motorbike-man in your grasp. “Oh, this isn’t my ride. It’s some monster I ran into on the way here. Er, I can bring it in here, right?”
“A monster?!” She yelped, attracting the attention of a few other staff members milling about in the lobby.
You scratched your head nervously at the extra pairs of eyes now on your form, and one of them strode towards you. His tall frame leant over yours easily, with a short spiky black hair accompanied by brown eyes and a stubble decorating a strong jaw.
“Oh, you’re…” He took in your features with a nod, as if mentally confirming something. His eyes momentarily flickered to the corpse lying by your side and his eyebrow twitched, but otherwise decided not to comment. “Good to see you. My name is Bushō, I’ve been asked to help you get settled. Please, follow me.”
You followed after the suited man obediently as he took you further into the building, passing through various long hallways and doors.
“The executives spoke highly of you,” He spoke absentmindedly, “Head medical researcher despite only being in your early twenties… Fresh out of university too, right?”
“Something like that,” you laughed sheepishly, a little embarrassed at the praise. “I’d actually been involved with the Hero Association before—during my uni days. My professor works at their hospital and she’d bring me along as an assistant often. I mostly worked with pharmaceuticals but I helped do the odd surgery now and then, heheh.”
“Huh, that right?” He took another glance at you, interest sparking beneath his dark eyes. “But even so, a medical degree takes about… On top of that, surgical training… Hm… No—I don’t want to think about it, or I’ll get depressed. What the hell are people feeding you kids nowadays to turn out like this…”
“Instant noodles and a lot of preservatives.” You chirped as the older man hummed wearily. He stopped before a clear set of double doors, gesturing to a metal plaque drilled into the side of a wall.
“Here’s the Science Department. It’s big, so make sure not to get lost. I’ll show you to the medical division.” Bushō led you further inside, passing by seas of white walls, floors and tables until the two of you finally reached your destination.
“Here we are. As head of medical research, you get your own lab. Make yourself comfortable.” He leant against the door frame of the pristine white laboratory as he watched you set your belongings down, throwing the monster corpse onto a nearby operating table without care. He winced at the loud sound the impact made.
“Actually,” Bushō scratched the nape of his neck awkwardly as a sudden thought entered his mind. You turned to him curiously. “I said that this’ll be your own private lab, but I should let you know that Child Emperor will sometimes use this room when he’s in the area. It’s the largest lab in the building, so… Anyway, if he’s in here, please just let him do as he wishes so we can avoid an S-Class tantrum.”
“Oh, yeah sure thing.” That was a little less than ideal, but you were hoping that Child Emperor wouldn’t mind sharing the workspace. Child prodigies could be rather fickle—you would know, after all.
“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” The older man turned to exit, but threw one last glance over his shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”
With that, he took his leave, leaving you alone in the large sterile room. You wasted no time getting yourself comfortable, donning a white lab coat from a nearby rack and setting down your personal tools onto a steel instrument trolley before rolling it over to the operating table where the motorbike monster lay.
You hummed, securing a surgical mask and clear goggles over your face before slipping two blue nitrile gloves over each hand, staring down at the bloodied corpse.
“Wonder where the machine starts and the monster ends…”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
An array of pharmaceutical equipment lay before the table before you, alongside various test tubes filled with colourful liquids sitting securely within their steel rack. You carefully took one of them out of its place before grabbing a loose piece of paper which contained a portrait and information of a certain blonde hero. You gave the document a quick scan, setting it back down on to the table in favour of taking out your voice recorder.
You spoke clearly into the device, opening with the date and time, “Log zero-four-one-nine. Final test for formula JX-9, designated to hero ‘Lightning Max’. Height at one-seventy-eight centimetres, and weighing sixty-point-two kilograms. Subject has sustained muscle tears in both legs alongside displaced fractures.”
You downed the contents of the test tube swiftly before announcing the time into the recording device, “Consumed ten centilitres of formula JX-9… A slight feeling of light-headedness accompanied by some heat spreading through the veins.”
You sat patiently on the lab’s plush stool, waiting for any further side effects. Once a sufficient amount of time passed, you spoke into the recording device once more, “No further symptoms have—GUH—!!”
A sudden searing pain flared throughout your body. You collapsed to the ground in agony, the recording device once tightly held in your grasp clattering to the floor loudly as you gasped and writhed onto the floor. It felt as if your chest was collapsing in on itself, and you clawed at your clothes in an attempt to remedy the pain.
“FUCK!” You cursed as the pain spread to the very tips of your fingers and toes, enveloping every inch of your body in a burning inferno.
You groaned as you tried to endure the burn, tears mixed with sweat running down your face and onto the cold tiled floor. The pain eventually fizzled into a dull ache, and you were left curling into yourself as you tried to regain your breath. After a few more minutes, you forced yourself to sit up, mind reeling from the movement. Weary eyes trailed their gaze downwards, taking note of the prominent, bulging veins that had suddenly appeared all over your body—signs of the internal conflict that took place within.
On wobbly knees, you crawled over to the fallen recording device, flipping it over to see that it was still recording. Exhaling a shaky sigh, you spoke quietly into the machine, “That fucking sucked. The formula needs to be reworked.”
・✚・
“Look who it is! Good to see you again.” The receptionist of the Hero Association Hospital chirped from behind a pristine white counter, eyes lighting up in delight as you walked through the glass double doors.
You waved at your amiably, recognising her from your internship at the hospital during your university days. “Hi nee-san. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Oh stop, you flatterer. You know I’m too old to be your nee-san.” The middle-aged woman giggled despite her words, before handing you a lanyard with a laminated ID attached. “For you. You’re finally an official member of the staff now! I’m so proud, I think I could cry…”
“Yep,” You slung the lanyard over your head, letting it hang comfortably around your neck. “Now you have the right to abuse your seniority to order me to get you coffee and massage your shoulders.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” She squawked and smacked your shoulder lightly, and you cried out in faux pain. “Besides,
you’re
the one with the seniority, miss attending physician. I hear you’ve been put in charge of some high profile heroes!”
“Ah, no big deal.” You scratched the back of your head sheepishly, flustered by her praise.
“No big deal, she says.” The woman scoffed playfully, “Your patients are in Room 305, by the way.”
You thanked the friendly woman before making your way to the aforementioned room, traversing through the familiar white and green hallways with perfect recollection. Upon entering the room, you were greeted with a heavily injured brunette man lying asleep in a white hospital bed, alongside his equally wounded blonde roommate on the floor and performing one-armed push-ups on the green vinyl tiles.
Your heels clicked against the floor noisily as you stepped into the room, alerting the blonde of your presence and causing him to quickly whip his head towards you. His wide blue eyes met yours in slight panic, taking note of the white doctor’s coat you donned under the silver stethoscope around your shoulders, accompanying the unimpressed expression on your face. You definitely looked like the no-nonsense type, causing him to wince in anticipation of the subsequent scolding.
You surprised him by instead donning a bright, closed-eyed smile. It caused a light flush to rise to his cheeks, because
wow,
what a cute smile.
“You know, the medical rebate courtesy of your hero status doesn’t cover injuries you give yourself.” You sang.
Nevermind—you were
cold!
With a stiff grin more reminiscent of a grimace, Max robotically got to his feet and marched back to his assigned bed, lying under the covers without so much as a peep. Satisfied with the obedience, you strode over to a nearby chair and dragged it over to his bedside before briskly seating yourself in it.
“Lightning Max,” you read aloud, looking over his patient profile attached to your clipboard. He sat up straight at your words, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
You introduced yourself to the blonde, “I’ll be taking over as your attending physician for the remaining duration of your stay as your previous doctor had been transferred to attend to another patient.”
Max made no attempt to hide the surprise in his face, “No kidding? You look the same age as me.”
You took another look at his profile, specifically the section indicating his age before raising both eyebrows in amusement. “Heh, something like that. Don’t worry, I’m definitely qualified—they don’t just let anyone in here. You can check the hospital’s website for my credentials.”
Without waiting for a response, you gave the papers another quick scan, flipping through them in interest with a light hum. “Your rate of recovery is impressive, especially considering the monster you were up against… Vaccine Man, huh? Weird name.”
The words you thought reassuring only caused the man to frown, narrowed blue eyes averting to the blanket covering his lap as he grit his teeth in frustration. “Sure, but… It kicked my ass without even breaking a sweat. I wasn’t able to do anything at all… I need to get stronger.”
“That’s fine and all, but resting is part of the process.” You dryly stated as you put the clipboard away and wheeled over a steel medical tray. “Doing pushups while you’re still injured is just delaying your recovery.”
Max flinched at your blunt words, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. While you organised various bottles of medicine onto the tray, you opted to make light conversation to pass the time. “I heard that you’re a martial artist? That’s pretty cool—Hyper Karate, right?”
The blonde blinked in surprise at the sudden icebreaker as your words fully sunk in. He puffed out his chest in a humble display of pride, flexing his biceps just the slightest as he feigned nonchalance with an averted gaze. After a small clearing of his throat, Max shrugged, “That’s right. You, uh, know about me, huh?”
Politely ignoring the way he was subtly flaunting his physique, you responded airily, “Yep, read about you in the Hero Association Catalogue. I also do a little martial arts myself, so I was pretty interested in your profile.”
“Huh, really?” Max scrutinised your appearance closely with the slightest pinch of his eyebrows. “You don’t look like the type…”
You raised both eyebrows at this, “What’s
that
supposed to mean?”
“Nothing bad!” The blonde waved his hands around wildly, “You kinda just seem like… a bookworm?”
“You’re
making
it sound bad!” You exclaimed with wide eyes, “And—I mean, you’re not exactly wrong but I have a lot of other exciting hobbies other than reading…”
“Yeah? What’s that?” He sounded amused.
“Playing video games!” You crossed your arms and nodded resolutely, confidence brimming. It took a dive when the blonde man barked out a laugh, however. “What…”
“Hah, my initial impression of you was spot-on, is what.” Max grinned toothily, “You’re like, a huge nerd.”
You made a face at his words, “That’s an outdated stereotype! Literally everyone plays video games, you don’t?”
“Not really,” he shook his head as he leant back on the bed and crossed his arms. “I’m more of an outdoors-y kind of guy. I like to keep my body moving.”
“What, so you just like… run in your free time or something?” He snorted at your words.
“I like running, sure. But I do a bunch of different sports too, and…” he hummed in thought, “I like going to stores to check out cool shoes.”
You stared at him with a miffed expression, “I can’t believe you have the audacity to call me a nerd when you’re literally a walking jock stereotype. I bet you would’ve bullied me in highschool.” You stuck your tongue out at the blonde.
“W—What?” His eyes grew wide, “I wouldn’t do that, I’m a hero!”
“Yeah? You’re the type to protect poor defenceless nerds like me from big scary monsters then?”
“That goes without saying,” Max stared into your eyes intently, “Call on me anytime, I’ll come save you.”
You hummed at the immediate response, impressed with his conviction. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks. But before you can do that, you need to get better first. Here,” You rolled the medicine tray over to his side, where capsuled pills sat neatly inside a white paper cup, adjacent to clear orange prescription bottles.
Max blinked at the array, taking one of the bottles in his hand and scrutinising it closely. It had a white paper label plastered around its circumference, with nothing but the name ‘Lightning Max’ scribbled messily onto it.
“Take two of these three times a day after your meals,” you instructed as you pointed at one of the bottles, “And only one of this. It’s imperative you eat before taking them—they’ll bite your stomach if you don’t get some food in you before.”
The blonde rattled the bottle in his hand dubiously, “This is… safe, right? I didn’t have to take these before…”
It doesn’t even have a proper label on it,
Max grimaced.
“These were made just recently by myself, specifically for you.” You explained casually, “It’ll accelerate your body’s natural rate of regeneration by one-fifty percent. It takes into account your body mass index and medical history, so don’t go giving it out to anyone else—not that I think you would.”
“Is something like that even possible?” Max stared at you in shock—just who
are
you?
“If you don’t trust me then keep taking these, no skin off my back.” You supplied while placing more medicine bottles onto the tray—ones Max were much more familiar with as they’d been prescribed to him prior to your transferral.
“But,” you sang playfully, “Please know that a cute girl spent countless sleepless nights researching, testing and mixing this medicine just for you.”
You stood up and patted his shoulder amiably before moving on to a stirring Smile Man. Max stared after your retreating figure for a few seconds before turning his azure gaze back to your medicine bottles. A small scowl rose to his face accompanied by a brilliant scarlet blush, because dammit you really
were
a cute girl and unfortunately he wasn’t above risking his health to please you.
・✚・
“I hate, hate, HATE muscles!” The hulking green humanoid figure standing before you roared, sending bystanders around you into a frenzy, running away for their lives.
You gave the monster a curious once-over. Despite its peculiar exclamation, it itself was a huge mass of muscle, with the physique of a typical body-builder. You’d have mistaken it for a regular person if not for its behemoth size, alarmingly green complexion and comically small rounded head.
“What’s with that lacklustre reaction?” The monster bent down at the waist to peer down at you in a show of intimidation. “You don’t like muscles either? I HATE THAT EVEN MORE!”
You cringed as spittle from the monster’s mouth flew in your direction. “All I did was look at you…”
“I thought if I bulked up, I could get the girl I liked. I trained for five years and asked her out! But do you know what she said to me?!” The monster stood up straight to its full height, adopting a mockingly high-pitched tone.
“A slab of meat like you? Haha! I could never! Seriously, ew.
I blacked out right there, and when I came to… I’d turned into a monster!”
Before you could form a half-fascinated half-unimpressed retort, a large hand suddenly placed itself onto your shoulder. The unexpected contact made you jump in surprise, and you followed the muscular appendage up to its owner who sported short blonde and brown striped hair alongside similarly patterned thick eyebrows twisted into a scowl. He was dressed plainly, sporting green pants and a bright yellow tank top adorned in black tiger stripes.
“C’mon, that’s pathetic!” The newcomer declared in an equally thunderous voice, only lowering it when addressing you with a confident expression. “Stand back civilian, Tank Top Tiger is here to save the day!”
“Another musclehead?!” The monster turned to the C-Class hero in a mixture of surprise and disdain.
The blonde man took his hand off your shoulder to stride forwards, crossing both arms across his chest and sneering. “Chicks will never fall for you if you can’t rock a tank top like me, Tank Top Tiger!”
With brimming confidence, Tank Top Tiger glanced back at you to wink and a mortified shiver ran down your spine. From behind, you could hear the few remaining bystanders whisper in excitement at having recognised the C-Class hero.
“Actually,” you piped up, “Women like fun facts about prehistoric life—”
“A tank top? What do clothes have to do with it?!” The monster bellowed in astonishment.
“You really don’t get the awesomeness of the almighty tank top?”
I don’t get it either,
you scrutinised his attire with a scrunched up face.
Maybe if it had a dinosaur on it.
“In that case…! I, Tank Top Tiger, will beat it into your skull!”
How many times is he going to say his name…
Despite his boasting, Tank Top Tiger went down without much of a fight. The monster, with its much larger stature and overwhelming strength, slammed the hero onto the concrete floor in only a matter of seconds. Screams erupted from various onlookers as they watched the blonde man hit the ground.
All bark and no bite,
you eyed his unmoving form with dead eyes.
“HAHAHA!” The monster cackled in glee at its small victory. “Is that all you got? What a joke! What good is your tank top now? If anyone’s getting skull-bashed, it’s YOU!”
Tank Top Tiger groaned from his place on the ground, shakily attempting to stand back up.
“Krgh… Alright—so you’re kind of tough…” The C-Class hero groaned as he righted himself, “Where’s big bro…”
You drew a couple steps forward, intending to aid the fallen hero but was stopped by a sudden war cry from behind.
“Justice Crash!”
You yelped in alarm as a green and silver
mamachari
hurled right by you and slammed itself right into the monster’s muscular back. The attack didn't seem to do much damage, however, as the monster only shrugged off the impact and turned around to face the source of the assault with thinly veiled irritation.
Following after the fallen bicycle was an average-sized man sporting a full-set of protective biking gear, complete with padded brown armour that upon closer inspection, appeared to be homemade. His head was mostly obscured by a bright green helmet alongside dark-shaded goggles. You could just make out tufts of short brown hair from underneath the accessories.
“The bicyclist for justice, Mumen Rider is here!” The newcomer proclaimed, adopting a fighting stance. He turned his head backwards slightly to address you, “Civilian, please evacuate! It’s dangerous to stand so close!”
“Look, it's Mumen Rider!” A young child watching from a safe distance pointed excitedly, tugging at his mother’s skirt. “He’ll beat it for sure!”
“Yeah! Go, Mumen!” Another man cheered from the sidelines. The praise caused the hero to smile and readjust his stance confidently.
“The hell? You’re not big bro,” Tank Top Tiger cast a nasty glare at Mumen Rider. “Coming in to steal my prey while I’m down? Not if I can help it!”
“That’s not—!” Mumen Rider attempted to protest, but Tank Top Tiger had already thrown himself at the monster.
“I’ll shred ya to pieces!” He growled, aiming to tackle the monster but its waist but was quickly intercepted by a quick right hook to his face, knocking him back once more.
“Justice Tackle!” Mumen Rider reacted swiftly, launching his own tackle attack while the monster had been preoccupied with Tank Top Tiger, but with little success. The cyclist had fallen easily with only one swing from the monster, hitting the ground head-first with a bruised face and bloodied nose. If not for his protective gear, you were certain he would've sustained mortal injuries.
With the monster's attention momentarily taken off him, Tank Top Tiger used this opportunity to pick himself up once more to prepare a surprise attack. With outstretched fingers curled to mimic clawed hands, he let out a bellowing war cry.
“Tiger Rush Attack!”
The blonde man launched himself at the monster and managed to tackle it to the ground, wrestling with it in ardent fervour. You watched the two exchange blows, and although Tank Top Tiger was able to land a few hits in this time, he was still being overpowered by the green monster. Mumen Rider still lay on the ground unmoving.
I should help him out,
you observed Tank Top Tiger struggle, beads of sweat rolling down his pain-stricken face. Despite your personal feelings for the heroes, you’d felt some semblance of responsibility for their injuries considering they’d chosen to respond to your apparent danger.
With a twirl of your fingers, you reached into a hidden pocket of your lab coat and retrieved a singular sealed syringe containing the failed JX-9 formula from earlier. You swiftly uncapped it before discreetly flinging it towards the monster’s calve, the small needle embedding itself deep into its thick skin.
The drug kicked in almost immediately, causing the monster to seize up with a sharp jolt and howl of pain, before collapsing onto the ground in agony. You watched with interest how it perfectly mimicked your prior symptoms.
“W—What the…” Tank Top Tiger warily eyed the monster from above its writhing body, shocked at the sudden change in behaviour.
It wasn't long before the creature succumbed to the pain and expired, slumping to the ground with one last strangled scream. The tiger-themed hero blinked a couple times in confusion before quickly shaking it off to instead face the adorning crowd.
“I defeated the monster!” He declared proudly, hands on his hips and chest puffed out as he soaked in the cheers of his audience. “You’re all safe now! No need to thank me but if you insist, you could always vote for Tank Top Tiger in the Popularity Polls, heheh…”
You rolled your eyes at his shameless behaviour before skirting around the monster’s corpse to check on Mumen Rider, inconspicuously kicking up the now empty syringe into the air with the tip of your shoes. You caught it mid-air as you walked past, pocketing it back into your lab coat.
“Hey, are you okay?” You knelt down to Mumen’s unmoving body. When a few seconds passed with no response, you removed his helmet and goggles in attempts to assess the extent of the damage to his head.
“Oh! Glasses,” you gently took the partially broken glasses off his face, previously obscured by his dark-shaded goggles. “That’s dangerous. Hm, nose is still bleeding but no crookedness present. Should check for a concussion just in case…”
You manoeuvred the man into the recovery position before taking out a small penlight from your coat pocket and shining it onto the unconscious man’s eye, prying open his eyelids with two fingers.
“What are you doing?” Tank Top Tiger, finally finished with his PR stunt, walked over to you with furrowed eyebrows.
Without sparing the taller man a glance, you continued your examination nonchalantly. “First aid. Don’t worry, I’m actually a doctor and not like a creep or anything.”
“Huh,” he gave you a curious once-over, before obnoxiously clearing his throat. “Well, uh, you know… Despite my overwhelming victory over that ferocious monster, I still received some injuries from the hard-fought battle. Nothing too serious of course, but you can never be too careful, y’know?”
Before you could throw him your most unimpressed stare, the formerly unconscious man below you began to stir. You helped sit him up as he winced in pain, raising a hand to his head and squeezing his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the incoming pain.
“Ugh… What happened?” He groaned, rubbing his face before noticing the absence of his glasses.
“You took a pretty bad beating,” you handed back the broken frames, to which he thanked you and placed them back onto the bridge of his nose, mindful of the cracked glass. “But you only have a broken nose. When you get the chance, put some ice on it until the swelling goes down. It’ll heal itself in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh, thank you…” From behind thick lens, Mumen Rider’s eyes flickered down to your ID attached to the lanyard hanging around your neck. As he did, you wordlessly handed him a wad of tissues from your coat pocket, and he accepted them gratefully before wiping his face clean of any blood.
“You shouldn't have rushed in like that if you can't take the heat.” Tank Top Tiger sneered at his fellow hero with crossed arms. “I had it handled. I don't need you trying to steal my kills when you're already at rank one.”
Your jaw dropped at his awful comment as Mumen Rider only frowned, already accustomed to his attitude.
“That wasn’t my intention.” Mumen protested, “I only wanted to help, since you looked like you were having some trouble—”
“I wasn’t.” He interrupted with a growl. He looked as if he was about to mouth off some more, so you quickly intervened, not wanting to get caught up in their spat.
“Didn’t you want a checkup?” You directed the question to Tank Top Tiger, who staved off his animosity to instead blink at you curiously. You quickly assessed his injuries, none of them being particularly serious despite the continuous beating he’d sustained.
“Get plenty of rest and try not to overdo it with your hero activities.” You stepped back from the blonde man, concluding your assessment. With a nod to the two heroes, you made to leave to resume your previously interrupted lunch break.
“Ah, wait a second!” Mumen Rider, picking up his fallen bicycle, chased after you. “Let me escort you to your destination—as a thank you for your help. Not to mention, in case another monster attacks you…”
You didn’t expect him to be of much assistance in the event of another monster attack, but decided to keep that thought to yourself. “Thank you, but you should really go home and rest.”
“I insist,” the brunet stood by your side stubbornly, lips pressed together in firm resolution as he tightened his grip on the handlebars of his bicycle. “I appreciate you patching me up back there. I… get injured often so having an on-site medic like you is really helpful! Thank you!”
You blinked at his heartfelt response, feeling a little touched at his respect for your profession. “Oh, no sweat. Just doing my job and all…”
“A job that saves lives! I couldn’t think of anything more heroic!” His smile was blinding.
“T—Thanks,” you scratched the back of your head sheepishly, finding this hero much more pleasant than a certain tiger-themed one. “You’re not so bad yourself. Even though you got totally wrecked…” You mumbled the last part under your breath, and he didn’t seem to catch it, still smiling away.
“Just doing my job,” he echoed your words, “And the next task in my agenda is seeing you to your destination safely!”
“Still on that?” You smiled wryly, stuffing both hands into your coat pockets. “It’s really fine. I’m actually on my lunch break right now, so unless you’d like to help me find a good place to eat, then…”
“I’d be happy to!” Unfaltering, Mumen Rider walked you down a busy street, his bicycle rolling dutifully by his side. “One of my associates actually runs a really great place, it’s called
Banehige
Café…”