ILL

(Y/N) felt like garbage. Sure, he wasn't dying, but he felt like dying. The last time he had gotten proper sleep and finished a task was more than a month ago.

The Hero Association had try contacting him, but he psychically couldn't. Yes, (Y/N) was a hero. A B class, but we'll know amongst As and Ss. He wasn't on Saitama level, but he was stronger than Sweet Mask, who also found him as a rival.

So, on a certain morning, (Y/N) had to go out and get groceries. The thing was, he was already red and sweating from the fever, and basically couldn't move. He looked like he was dying from a heatstroke.

His hands were trembling, him clutching his stomach, and holding onto the wall as he walked. Tears were building up in his face, making his vision blurrier than it was before. If only the power to use blood for weapons was useful for this.

(Y/N) kept walking, hoping to get home fast enough to fall asleep. Sadly, he made it front of a donut store, before everything went black.

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"Yes, of course Master Saitama..." (Y/N) woke up the sound of a male deadpanning voice.

He still felt like hell, but he noticed that he was well cared for. A ice pack on his head, cold blankets, light sound of relaxing music, some soup, medicine, amongst various things around him. (Y/N) was still tired, his eyes half-lidded, so he just groaned.

"Oh, uh, sorry Master, I'll call you back when I finish." The male's voice said, followed by footsteps.

A male with blonde hair, robot like arms, a tee/crop top hoodie, and tight jeans looked at the miserable boy, and tilted his head. He looked like he was staring at (Y/N), but he could've been looking at something else. The robo boy sighed, before sitting next to him.

"(Y/N) (L/N), correct?" The boy asked, putting his hand on the boy's face.

"Yes, b-" He stopped to cough, "don't get sick yourself please."

"I'm a cyborg, I'm not able to get sick." He sighed, laying his head on the bed, glancing up at the other.

"Right-" (Y/N) coughed again, "Name?"

"Genos, I'm the Blonde Cyborg." Genos nodded. The boy said it as if it was a common thing. It was anything but that. Seriously, how the hell was that normal.

"You mean the-"

Genos saw him bolt up, and immediately pushed him back down. "Don't strain yourself, (Y/N). Here, just use a notepad." Genos handed him a small book with a pencil.

"Alright, now what were you going to say?" Genos went back to laying his head down.

The Blonde Cyborg? You're the guy who randomly got into S rank? (Y/N) wrote, handing it to Genos. He heard Genos chuckle softly, almost impossible to hear.

"Yeah, am I that famous?" Genos asked, innocence to the monstrosity of his fans. (Y/N) got chills at the though of them.

Please, popular is an understatement. I can't go anywhere without hearing about you. Everyone in the A rank is talking about you. (Y/N) hastily wrote.

"Seriously? Wait, are you a hero as well?" Genos asked, looking at boy up and down. "I found bandages all over you, so does it have something to do with that?" Genos grabbed a notebook from his pocket.

Yeah. I'm 10th in rank A, and I'm well known amongst Class S. I'm only used to mild missions though, since they think I'd be in S by then if I was that good.

Oh and the bandages are from me cutting my skin. I can mold my blood into solid weapons. It only hurts me severely when I'm sick.

Genos was rapidly taking notes. It was probably normal for him, but (Y/N) just wondered how. He couldn't even work for a donation of blood that fast.

"Do you have to get blood refills? Does it matter on your blood type? Can you only mold weapons? Will it knock you out if you used too much?" Genos asked questions like a five year old, but (Y/N) understood.

1: Yeah, once a week. I'm not a vampire sadly.
2: In some terms. I can form larger weapons with mixes, but singular blood makes the same kind. With the first one, it costs a lot to get them that often and of different kinds.
3: I can mold fake body parts and small objects. I'm working on being after to heal with my blood.
4: Yup, but that takes a while.

Genos copied the exact things he wrote, in that exact handwriting. The robot thought his power was interesting. Like Master Saitama, but a lot weaker and more psychic than psychical.

Anyways, I'm tired. I'll talk to you when I wake up, 'Kay?

Genos nodded, getting up, mostly likely to cook.

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When (Y/N) got better a week later, Genos still went over to talk to him. Usually when Saitama was busy with King and the gaming crew, but that didn't matter.

The two grew closer, and are still close as ever.