#borosaiweek

***

He parts away from the group, allowing Melzalgald and Groribas to scour further away into the leveled area. Boros has inkling that this place used to be a megalopolis, something so bright and extravagant that it lights might just fire the sky.

Perhaps. He can’t tell anymore.

“Lord Boros?” Geryuganshoop moves to his side. “What is it that we’re seeking here? There’s nothing left in this world.”

Boros does not know. How can he explain it? The screeching in his chest, latching at him leisurely to this world, and preventing his desire to leave to be fulfilled.

“Something, perhaps. We’ll leave as soon as our search proves to be futile.”

This answer is enough to lighten up his lieutenant, for the next words are spoken with a little touch of enthusiasm. “Of course, my lord.”

Boros nods and continues searching.

There must be something at least.

***

There’s a lone tombstone there, near the edge of the cliff, overlooking the fallen earth and Boros moves towards it. He squints at the engraved-name but he can’t understand what’s written. The words are too shattered.  So he opts with merely running his thumb along the curved lines.

Boros feels the sudden soft tingle in his chest, the easy murmur of comfort and need, the flow of a gentle touch on his skin and Boros instantly knows what it means, knows why he can’t leave just yet.

“I see,” the alien stands. There’s no fresh air to breathe anymore.

He’s arrived to earth three hundred years too late. But somehow, he’s still granted one last calling from his mate. It’s truly odd how even after death, the bond is still strong, still pulling at and searching for him, still beckoning him to come for their last farewell.

Boros smiles. Void from traces of all ill-natured. Perhaps in another world, maybe, he’ll make sure to arrive just in time.

“Saitama,” the king calls out. Hands on his hips as he takes a steady breath, before he looks up once more at the shadowy chamber. The quicker he gets this done, the sooner he can leave and attend to more important matters.

“Saitama,” He tries again.

“Be quiet– oh. No-” The distress in Saitama’s voice is followed by a loud crashing, a few muttered curses and a murky golden light flashes from behind the many shelves.

“Teacher! Did you see that? The fairies grew a mushroom on your head!”

“I see that, Genos. Now stay calm so I can remove the flowers from your hair– wait, Genos! Don’t-”

More crashing and clanking.

Boros raises a brow, looking rather annoyed if not anything else.

“Saitama!”

“Coming.” The shrouded echo in his tone only indicates how Saitama finds the king’s presence in his room to be untimely and a tad unwanted. Boros spots the robe first, then his court sorcerer’s monotonous facade and finally the small mushroom on his head.

The most powerful warlock in the land and he’s poking at the mushroom with mild interest.

“Yes?”

Boros sighs. “You have committed a crime.”

Saitama merely tilts his head. “You mean the cow from yesterday?”

“Yes-” the king blinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I was on my way to the forest yesterday, along with my apprentice, to scour for more herbs when we were attacked by Mrs. Lupin’s cow.”

Oh. “What happened?”

“The cow was possessed by a mad spirit, I purged it, Mrs. Lupin claimed that I sent the spirit myself and accused me of attacking her livestock.”

“You saved her cow.”

Boros knows how the people view his court sorcerer. Always with definite resentment and wariness. There’s never a moment of peace for Saitama when he’s in public. Whispers and accusations follow him like a shadow and at this point, acceptance seems impossible. And sometimes it’s tiring for the king when his trusted advisors keep hinting at him to exile the sorcerer.

Even though they know what and who Saitama is to him.

“Never mind then,” Boros offers tiredly. “I shall return to the meeting.”

Saitama stares up at him and for a moment, the king catches the tiny desire in those brown eyes.

Boros lets out a small smile at it.

His husband can be rather silly at the best of times.

Boros leans forward. A step or two. It’s not that Saitama is too far away from him and when he has him just a breadth away, Boros tilts his head down, wondering if Saitama will take the offer.

Saitama does though. Of course he does. The robe is long enough to cover his feet but Boros can imagine Saitama tiptoeing to put a hand on his shoulder, and to match his height as those familiar lips caress him.

Now, Boros possesses zero knowledge regarding magic and fairies and spells but he definitely knows how to smile into the kiss and encircle his arm around Saitama’s waist. It’s as easy as breathing, as easy as living.

Though at this point, it is pointless to offer even a resemblance of advice. Bang knows the possibility for the young Legion to heed his guidance is, well, close to zilch.

Saitama has always been like that since he was a mere child.

“I’m still going, old man.”

Bang sighs. “I know you will. Always so eager for a quest.”

From the corner of his eyes, Bang sees the way Saitama throw his lopsided grin, the way his legionnaire garb – gold-red mail armor and cloak - shine almost too brightly like a wildfire, and the way he rubs his hand at the contour of his blade.

There’s no stopping the demigod.

“I’m going to search the Cyclops,” is all Saitama offers before he bows at the bladesmith, and leaves in a flurry of red.

Bang continues to forge the blade. Perhaps Saitama will grant mercy to his prey this time.

***

“Master.”

“Genos,” Saitama supplies, almost with a low-octave in his tone. He needs to be quick and he doesn’t need Genos to follow him around this time. He can’t hunt and protect at the same time.

“I’m coming with you,” Genos says, pleads.

Saitama raises a brow at this, tightening the leather around his sword. From his vision, Genos looks young. Too young to become a praetor and to shadow him like a helpless fool. He wants his young charge to become stronger, to become a courteous legionnaire. But this is something Saitama must do alone.

And for that, Genos needs to stay.

“It’s Tartarus, Genos. You’ll break.”

“I will not! How can you expect for me to take your place one day as the Emissary of Rome if you refuse me even this small-”

“You’re staying,” Saitama claims calmly before he throws a golden coin from Juno into the nearby pond. It doesn’t touch the tip of the water before the gold shatters and merges with the surrounding air, and in seconds, a dark mist emerges from the lake, gradually forming an entrance to the other side.

“Master-”

Saitama enters without a second glance.

There will be time to argue with Genos later.

***

Saitama has no time to waste fighting against a hydra and yet here it is, fifty-gaping jaws creature, so vast that mayhap even the ocean can’t hide its colossus form. Saitama has killed something far lethal and this guardian will be no different but he is not here for a trophy. At least not yet.

“I come in peace, creature.”

Saitama keeps his sword sheathed. “I’m looking for a Cyclops. He is new to this realm. Sent here by Pluto himself.”

The hydra slams its talons to the black floor; its tremor shakes even the triple walls. Yet it doesn’t roar, merely observing as it leans its maws closer.

It smells like death.

And Saitama instantly understand the solemn gesture. The hydra wants an introduction.

He sighs.

"I’m son of the God, Jupiter, Champion of Juno, Prince of the Southern Kingdom, Emissary of the Roman Legionnaires and Leader of the Navy warfare. I’ve slayed the Trojan sea monster, taken down the titans and ended the line of the basilisks. My name is mine to keep.”

The hydra lets out a low ramble. Perhaps it’s placated, perhaps not. It’s hard to tell in the underworld.

There’s a soft whisper from the undead around them, humming, singing of the forgotten songs before the serpent finally huffs, and seeming bored as it succumbs its immense bulk to the floor and pays Saitama no attention.

Alright.

This is better.

“I’ll take that as my permission to enter then.”

Saitama passes the colossal creature and pushes the twin steel doors. Inside, he can hear the shrieks of the sinners, the cries and the small pleads for a moment of respite. Saitama barely acknowledges it. His mind is already lit with a rush of exhilaration. To see the Cyclops again– now that’s a true gift.

“Where are you?”

He passes the flaming river, Phlegethon. He passes the tall iron turret. He passes the Erinyes and he passes the gate to the sealed giants. And yet still no sign of the one sinner Saitama is searching for.

Can he call its name?

Might as well try it.

Saitama looks to the underworld and calls out.

“Boros!” His steps are harsher; eyes now are molded with red glint. “Are you hiding from me? Do you know I’m coming for you?” He tries not to chuckle when he sees all the familiar silhouette running from him in the darkness.

“You know I’d kill just to see you.” Saitama languidly walks towards the profile; hand on the hilt of his beloved gladius. “And I did, Boros. Did you see the way I slew the Satyr?”

“Then you belong here, among us instead of the living, for killing a benevolent soul.”

The voice speaks. Old and tired. It’s Boros, standing just near the dark-pitched lake where the border ends. The one-eyed creature looks smaller, laced with fatigue instead of his usual vigor and anger. Dark splotches of wounds and whipping marks appear on his body.

Saitama shivers. It looks good on the Cyclops.

“Have you been punished enough?” Saitama draws closer and closer until he can guide his knuckle along Boros’ wounded cheek, almost too gently.

“I do not have a moment of rest.” Boros answers. And it’s the truth. Tartarus has not been kind to him.

“Then come with me. We’re going back.”

Boros squints, looking at the demigod as if he’s made a pact with Pluto. “Why? Down here, it is safe.”

“Safe from what?”

Boros exhales. “From you.”

Saitama’s grin grows impossibly long. “Now you hate me? You and your kind should have not terrorized the village then. Innocent humans lived there.”

Saitama was blessed when he was sent to annihilate the Cyclopes. Boros caught his eyes like a flaring ocean, so different and raw in the midst of a battle, an embodiment of sun and fallen stars.

And Saitama has wanted him ever since, has dutifully chased after his hopeless little prey.

The only slight detour is the fact that Pluto is enraged by Saitama’s frequent delay to kill the Cyclops and so the God has banished Boros himself in a cage of internal torture.  Still, Saitama craves for Boros and he’ll break Tartarus even if he must.

“You’re coming with me,” Saitama leans closer, breathes in Boros’ ear, plays with his rosy hair and kisses his pale neck. “You’re my pet, correct?”

Then Saitama backs away, eyes bright as if Apollo himself has endorsed the demigod. “Come on. I don’t want to delay any longer. Genos might throw a tantrum.”

Boros opens his mouth to retaliate, only for Saitama to herd him along with him like an abused slave.

"What do you think it is Sensei?" Genos asked after about an hour of them running to the HQ building in silence.  

"Dunno," Saitama shrugged, leaping over a crater that hadn't been fixed quite yet from some monster that had been attacking. "But it's odd that they asked for me isn't it?"

Genos hummed in unspoken agreement and the two fell back into a comfortable silence as they ran towards the HQ building. Both wondered what it could possibly be that had the HA asking for both of them. Saitama also had to wonder if they were the only two requested, or if there would be others there as well. He hoped to god that that Sweet Mask guy wouldn’t be there.  

"We're here Sensei." Genos said unnecessarily as the HQ building came into sight. The two stopped running, adopting instead the equivalent of a brisk walk for most people.  

"Ah, Demon Cyborg and Caped Baldy," one of the HA workers greeted them when the entered the building. "Just in time, if you would follow me I will lead you to the meeting room." She turned without waiting for them to respond and walked down a hallway that had been concealed by a door. "I am sure you two are wondering why you have been asked here, but I must request that all questions you have be saved until we reach the meeting room. Everything will be explained to you there." They fell into silence then, Saitama and Genos trying to think of why they were being led deeper underground and the worker about what she would wear on her date with Glasses tonight. "It will be right through this door here," she finally broke the silence when they reached a heavy steel door that looked as if it had some reinforcement work done to it. Saitama wondered briefly what could be on the other side of it, but then again, whatever it was he could probably take it.  

"Ah, yeah, ok, thanks." He gave the unamused worker a quick thumbs up and walked into the room, followed closely by Genos. Once inside the room though he had to stop and stare at what it held.  

A number of terrified looking men toting semi automatic weapons and heavy kevlar body armor stood around what looked to be the most threatening pastel...thing...that Saitama had ever seen. Whatever it was stood probably around eight feet tall, skin a pale blue with darker veins, its single bright blue cyclops eye framed by spikes of pink hair. Saitama had the brief thought that the thing should not look as scary as it did, honestly its color scheme was very reminiscent of Easter and he had the thought of what it would look like with a pair of rabbit ears.

In hindsight perhaps bursting into laughter at the sight of a potentially harmful and or deadly unknown being was not the smartest move that Saitama could have made, but then again he was not known for thinking things fully through before he reacted to them, and honestly the thought of the unknown creature dining cheap rabbit ears was the best thing that he could think of. Well that is until the being landed a punch to his jaw, and him not having expected it went flying across the room, only to be able to orient himself and land rather lightly on his feet, apparently much to the shock of the being if the wide eyed look had anything to say about it.  

"Hey! You punch really good!" Saitama flashed a smile at the taller creature all the way across the room from him. He swears he heard Genos drop to the ground in shock, but then the clattering noise could have also been attributed to the fact that about half the soldiers dropped their guns in shock at the declaration...and possibly the fact that Saitama was on his feet and showed no signs of being really hurt by what he had to suppose was a monster of some sort.  

"Caped Baldy, Lord Boros, I ask that you refrain from fighting here." The cool voice came from a second door into the room that Saitama had not noticed until now. He immediately relaxed his posture, hey he could react to danger on the drop of a hat if he needed to, but the other guy, what was his name...bonsai? Lord Bonsai? Odd name...he didn’t react at all, other than to bare his very sharp pointed teeth at Saitama. "Need I remind you Lord Boros that we have your ship in an undisclosed location and if you wish to ever see it again you will comply with our demands." That sounded very much like a threat to Saitama, who honestly still had no clue what was going on, but apparently this Bonsai dude was an alien...maybe the rumors he had heard flying around hadn't been that far off then...

"Excellent," the man at the door grinned and clapped his hands together, the noise startling some of the men that had been picking up their guns into dropping them once more. "Now, Demon Cyborg, Caped Baldy, we bought you here because of that...man...over there." He looked like he had a bad smell under his nose when he gestured to the entirety of the alien in a rather rude way. "He crashed on earth and is to valuable to dispose of, but neither can we contain him here. We know that you two live in the abandoned section of City Z and so would like it if you could keep an eye on him there. We understand that this is a big responsibility and would cut into your normal hero duties, but we assure you that the Hero Association will provide you adequate coverage of your time lost and duties that you could not perform otherwise due to this new responsibility."  

The man continued to speak, but Saitama had lost interest, knowing that Genos would just sum it up for him later anyway, instead he turned his attention to the alien. Were it not for the coloration and the height Saitama supposed that he could pass for a normal human, well that and the fact that he had one eye. The alien was also studying him, his single eyed gaze intense, his brow still furrowed in the middle like it would be for a human or maybe an alien that had two eyes instead of the one. The two beings locked into a powerful stare-down until Genos tapped Saitama on the shoulder, breaking him from the enchanting blue of the single eye.  

"Sensei, they want us to look after the alien known as Lord Boros, in return they will send us an increased stipend to use to feed and house ourselves and our guest until they retract the assignment." It was still over twenty words, but at least it was shorter than the windbag that had just been speaking. One look at the apparent lord decided him on the matter.