Day 8 of Fubuki's punishment:
—I hate my life… —I said, letting my head drop against the desk with a dull thud that would probably leave a mark on my forehead, and in that moment I didn't care in the slightest.
I had been accumulating stress symptoms for days that were driving me completely mad and I needed some kind of release before I ended up destroying my own office with my telekinesis.
Keeping myself busy with administrative work these past days had been the worst idea I'd had, because I had conveniently forgotten that at some point I always ended up despising my responsibilities as leader of the Blizzard Group. When they piled up too much, stressing me to such a level that normally to destress I would use my Darling for… well, for activities that were definitely not appropriate to think about in the middle of an office full of subordinates, and just by allowing myself to think about that for one second I was already needing it more than was healthy or professional to admit, why on earth did he have to be so damned good in bed?!, but it was fine, I could endure two more days of this punishment and then I could finally see him, talk to him, apologize properly and maybe, just maybe, convince him to forgive me in a much more physical and satisfying way.
Who am I trying to fool? For the love of god… I want to f…!!!
—Mrs. Fubuki. —Lily entered the office with her usual step, careful and silent, and extended an envelope to me—. Our contact in the satellite research organizations sent this. It appears urgent.
I took it and reviewed the contents carefully. Months ago I had infiltrated and psychically conditioned a government official with access to the spatial monitoring systems, specifically to receive advance information about large-scale catastrophes before they reached official channels. It was an investment of time and resources that until now had produced nothing particularly useful, but what I had in my hands at that moment changed that assessment entirely.
—A meteorite will fall on City Z. Has this incident already been communicated to the Heroes Association?
—Not yet. The other officials haven't finished classifying the type and scale of the event. But according to our contact, the preliminary projection is already pointing to dragon level. All of City Z will be annihilated.
I processed it in silence. According to the report, the approaching meteorite had a magnitude that upon impact on City Z would not leave a scenario of partial damage. At the entry velocities typical of an object of that size — between 15 and 20 kilometers per second upon traversing the atmosphere — the impact would generate an expanding wave capable of leveling the entire city in a matter of seconds and affecting the adjacent cities. Millions of people. And the worst part was that my Darling's apartment was in City Z, which meant that if that meteorite impacted, he would be devas…
I stopped there and let a new thought finish forming.
An idea began to take shape. It was risky, it implied moving several pieces simultaneously and almost certainly would generate frictions I would have to manage afterward, but the potential result more than justified the risk. If I executed it correctly, I could get out of this punishment in the best possible way and simultaneously position myself in a considerably better situation with my… I already knew what to do now. I laughed with malice.
—Do we know when it will impact?
—Our contact estimates approximately four hours. And knowing the Association's protocols, they'll issue the official evacuation communiqué when less than half an hour remains, probably so that Class S could save City Z at the last minute to earn popularity and enormous donations.
—Of course they will. —I replied without concealing the contempt—. They prefer organizing an elite hero operation rather than evacuating on time, because a clean evacuation doesn't generate headlines. Damn hypocrites. —I left it there and changed tone—. Right. Lily, send an urgent message to Commissioner Saitama's offices. He'll evacuate the city without needing anyone to explain it to him twice — his sense of duty is absurdly predictable in that regard. We'll also send the entire Blizzard Group to help.
—Yes, Mrs.
—But first put me through to the Heroes Association immediately.
Lily hesitated visibly.
—But Mrs., they won't want to help with the…
—I don't need their stupid help. I just need you to connect me with the Association's mission coordinator that I have under my control. I'm going to report "another" incident that requires the intervention of one of the best in Class S.
I finished with a smile I made no attempt to hide and leaned back in my chair.
Let's see how you enjoy dealing with this one, Oneesan.
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—Hands up, this is a robbery! Don't even think about calling a her…! Ahaaa…!
That shout came from a common thief who was attempting to rob a convenience store. At that moment sensei was dragging him across the floor with a considerable bump on his head while finishing paying for a chocolate bar at the register. I registered and noted it: maintaining calm in low-threat situations was a sign of absolute control of the environment. An applicable lesson.
—Freeze or the hostage…! Ahaaa…!
That was a kaijin with frog characteristics, pink skin and medium wingspan, who had taken a civilian as a shield. Sensei had to stop to wash his hands from the impact splatter before pulling the hostage out of the remains. I classified the incident as wolf-level threat, neutralized in under three seconds. Sensei as always left no opening.
—Your lousy police won't handle my team and the great…! Ahaaa…!
That was a kaijin with bear morphology, proportions suggesting tiger classification or above. His accomplices were humans in bear suits, which complicated initial cataloguing but didn't change the result. Sensei processed them all in the same exchange without adjusting his posture.
—Well, well. So the police found my hideout just in ti…! Ahaaa…!
A Class A villain at the head of a cartel with weapons, drug and other operations that sensei didn't consider relevant to document. The blow was clean and the premises were cleared.
—Please, don't… Ahaaa…!
That was a kaijin that…
—Genos, what are you doing? —sensei asked me, his fist still stained from the last blow, looking at my notebook with an expression that mixed genuine curiosity with something resembling resignation—. You still have that notepad, huh?
—I record every action you perform, sensei. Each intervention contains tactical and methodological information that I cannot afford to lose.
—Seriously… you're a peculiar case. —he murmured, scratching his cheek.
—In what sense, sir?
—Ah, nothing. Forget it.
—Understood.
Sensei lifted the body of the last kaijin, settled it over his shoulder with the same nonchalance with which one carries a shopping bag and began to walk.
—Let's take this to the station. Better not leave these messes uncollected — they always end up being a problem afterward.
—Yes, sensei.
It was then that sensei's phone emitted the emergency alert tone. He checked it without stopping, and the only indication that the message had something different was that his eyes moved slowly toward the sky. I followed his gaze by instinct. Despite the distance, my optical sensors identified without difficulty an object in descent: a bright point increasing in size at a constant rate and with a trajectory that left no margin for interpretation. What struck me as anomalous was not the object itself, but that I had received no advance communication from the Heroes Association. No evacuation alert. Nothing.
Sensei's phone rang again. He answered it without taking his eyes off the sky.
—Yes, I already saw the message, Satoru. Is the area clear? Good, the Blizzard Group is efficient. They really do impress me. Continue with the evacuation and call a tow for the locations of my previous interventions — I don't want to leave that uncleaned. I'm heading to the impact zone.
He hung up, adjusted his cap with a quick movement and turned toward me with that expression I recognized without difficulty: calm on the surface, completely focused on what was coming.
—Genos, let's move immediately. It's going to be a long day.
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Sensei was too fast, as always. In two leaps he transported me to the observation point carrying me over his shoulder without consulting me, because my maximum speed didn't come anywhere close to his and we both knew it. From the position he chose, the descent trajectory of the meteorite could be traced clearly and the impact point estimated with minimal margin of error. We were practically on the direct line, though the distance still gave us operational time. What continued without explanation was how sensei had received information before the official channels, and who exactly that Satoru was that he called with the familiarity of someone who coordinates operations on a regular basis.
When we landed I tried to scan the area and check the phone, which had already accumulated missed calls from the Heroes Association. I had to inform sensei imme…
—Oniisan!!
The shout arrived from below before I could finish the thought. A small figure crossed the area at considerable speed and collided directly against sensei with enough impulse to knock him over. It took me a second to process what I was seeing: a boy of no more than ten years old, clinging to sensei with an intensity that left no doubt about the level of admiration he professed. The expression on his face was the kind of unfiltered enthusiasm that adults learn to suppress over time. What annoyed me was not the effusiveness itself, but the interruption at a moment that required complete attention and the fact that that level of physical contact with sensei was objectively an operational hindrance.
I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him to eye level.
—Evacuate the area immediately. It is not a safe place and we don't need obstacles.
—You should say that about yourself, rookie.
From his backpack came a mechanical claw that struck me with enough precision to slam me against the edge of the building before I could react. I recovered in under a second, but the impact had been faster than I anticipated, which was relevant information. The boy repositioned himself beside sensei and looked at me with a superiority that didn't correspond at all to someone of his size, which irritated me disproportionately. I looked at him carefully and knew who he really was: Class S rank 5, Child Emperor. A child prodigy with superior intelligence beyond anyone's. The relationship he had with Saitama sensei was surprising, but it still didn't remove how disrespectful he was. I was about to respond when sensei stepped between the two of us and looked at me with seriousness.
—Genos, I'm not going to allow you to pick a fight with a child over a prank.
—But sensei, he…
—Sensei? —the boy interrupted, shifting his tone immediately to something considerably more indignant—. Oniisan already has a disciple? I was busy with exams for a while and look what happens. Good thing I escaped after receiving the urgent call from… I'm getting distracted. You should have consulted my opinion before accepting someone. That's the minimum.
—Sensei! —I cut in, ignoring the boy—. Why does Child Emperor treat you this way? Did you have another disciple before me?
—Huh? —sensei looked at me as if the question had caught him off guard—. No, he's not my disciple. And I'm not his master either, let that be clear. His name is Isamu, and he is…
—I'm Commissioner Saitama's partner! His right hand! His brother from the soul! Together we are…! Issen Kōtei!! One Imperial Strike!
—…
—…
—…What? —sensei said with his most neutral expression.
—Issen for your strike, Oniisan! Kōtei because I am the emperor! You are the force and I am the authority! And since you're a police officer we could also add Kanshikan but it was too long and…!
—Isamu.
—Yes?
—The meteorite.
The boy looked up. The bright point in the sky was considerably larger than thirty seconds ago.
—…ah. Right, I'll handle it. —he said it with a seriousness I didn't expect from someone who thirty seconds ago was claiming to be sensei's soul brother. It was a completely different facet and I registered it without comment.
From his backpack screens and sensors deployed that began scanning the sky, generating a series of real-time values, several of which exceeded the parameters of my own analytical systems.
—The meteorite will impact in 28 minutes and 43 seconds. —he said, biting on a lollipop he'd pulled from some pocket without my noticing when—. Given that we're already at the optimal position. Estimated mass: 4.2 million tons. Entry velocity: 19.4 km/s. Impact angle: 34 degrees. A concentrated strike from Oniisan at the core will fragment it. Creating a big problem.
Sensei and I looked at him in silence.
—Upon fragmenting, the remains will disperse across a considerable radius. The damage would be less compared to a direct impact, but would still generate losses in the zone. —he paused and smiled—. Although I wouldn't worry too much about that. We already have someone who can handle that part.
The rooftop door opened at that moment. The figure that appeared wore a green dress and fur coat, and walked toward us with the deliberate calm of someone who has calculated. It was Mrs. Fubuki, who generated exactly the effect she wanted to produce with her entrance.
—Thank you for the introduction, Isamu. —said Mrs. Fubuki with a smile that made no pretense of being discreet.
—You really do like making entrances, my dear.
—It's the minimum for the status I hold, Darling. —she winked at him and then looked at me with an expression that mixed self-satisfaction with something resembling a warning—. And Genos, Isamu is already aware of my relationship with my Darling, so don't make that face.
I looked at her without responding. Her presence in that place, her calm and the fact that Isamu had already counted on her as part of the plan were data points that didn't fit together as coincidence. Someone had coordinated this in advance.
—The dispersal zone is already evacuated. There will be no civilian losses. —she said, addressing sensei in a tone that left everything else behind—. So you just take care of doing what you do best, Darling. Create a real spectacle.
Sensei gave her a brief smile. Then he crouched down.
The ground under his feet didn't hold. The concentrated pressure of the impulse destroyed the building's surface in an instant, opening cracks that extended throughout the concrete structure while fragments of cement and steel shot off in every direction. He rose at a speed that my sensors registered for a fraction of a second before losing track of him entirely, his figure reducing to a point in the sky that merged with the burning mass of the meteorite in a matter of seconds.
Then his fist connected.
The energy released at that point propagated outward from the core of the meteorite at supersonic speed. The cracks traversed the rocky mass in every direction simultaneously, illuminating with a white radiance that saturated my optical sensors completely. The meteorite didn't break into fragments. It disintegrated, turned to dust and light that dispersed in the sky as if nothing had ever been there.
For a moment the entire horizon went completely white. When my optical sensors recalibrated, I identified the problem immediately: fragments of the meteorite were shooting off in multiple directions from the detonation point, some at superior velocities. My cannons could cover a limited arc with acceptable precision, but the volume and dispersion of the material exceeded my individual response capacity by a considerable margin. There was no clear tactical solution from my position.
—Calm yourself, Genos. —Mrs. Fubuki began to elevate herself at my side with a composure that didn't correspond to the objective situation—. I already said I'd handle it.
From her surroundings, spheres of dense metal began to materialize from particles — dozens of them, orbiting around her with a precision that suggested individual control over each one. With a single movement of her hand they dispersed in every direction simultaneously. What followed was difficult to catalogue in real time: blue lines crossing the sky at speeds my sensors could barely track, each sphere intercepting a fragment with a precision that left no margin for error, followed by explosions of light that multiplied across the entire horizon until no remaining debris of relevant size was left. The residual material disintegrated into particles that the atmosphere would absorb without consequence.
I spent several seconds processing what I had just observed. Mrs. Fubuki was not Class A by formality. With the control and speed she had just demonstrated, the only plausible reason she didn't hold a position in Class S was that she herself had decided not to. It was very clear that she would be right alongside her sister's ranking.
Isamu and I didn't remain as spectators during that interval. While Mrs. Fubuki covered the larger radius, the boy deployed a series of drones from his backpack that intercepted with precision the fragments that had escaped outside the arc of the spheres. I handled the immediate perimeter coverage, destroying the remains that were heading toward our position. The coordination between the three of us had not been planned aloud, but it functioned without overlaps or gaps.
It was the cleanest operational result I had registered, and also the most illustrative: if the Heroes Association had handled the incident with its usual protocols, the meteorite would have impacted while the Class S heroes were still being summoned, leveling everything within a radius of kilometers simply due to the time that bureaucracy and the irresponsibility of those who called themselves heroes takes. The difference between the two versions of the day was a single variable. Sensei. There was no other way to catalogue it: what he had just done was exactly what a true hero should do — without announcement, without coverage, without an audience. Just doing the right thing.
After cleaning everything up, we found sensei shortly afterward in the impact zone of his landing, crouching in front of the rubble of his favorite supermarket. What remained of the building was a collapsed structure that had absorbed part of the descent wave. We looked at him in silence from behind. Sensei didn't move for a considerable moment.
—Damn it, why just this. —he murmured in a completely flat voice, playing with a small rock on the ground—. The apartment building they threw me out of was right next door. I hate my luck. Where am I going to buy fish for dinner?
Nobody responded. There was nothing useful to say.
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I was in a bad mood, and I had concrete reasons to be. I had been summoned to City L for a kaijin classified as a dragon-level disaster that turned out to be the most insignificant threat I had neutralized in years. A cockroach with delusions of grandeur that hadn't even been worth the time it took me to get there. A complete waste of my afternoon, and the worst part was that I couldn't even complain out loud because that would mean admitting that I had been pulled away from home for something that didn't justify it. All I wanted was to return to the apartment, have dinner with my husband and recover one of the few peaceful evenings I had left before work ruined everything again. The next day I would not answer calls.
I made a stop in City A to buy a cake. A small gesture, but my husband liked those things and I knew when it was a good moment to bring them. I was waiting at the register when the shop's screen broadcast something that stopped me cold.
—This afternoon in City Z, a dragon-level meteorite was neutralized before impact thanks to the intervention of the special police forces. The evacuation of the area, coordinated by the Blizzard Group, was completed with no civilian casualties recorded. Regarding the absence of a prior communiqué from the Heroes Association, spokespersons for the institution attributed the failure to interference of kaijin origin, an explanation that several analysts have received with skepticism. Damage in City Z was practically nil. The primary credit falls to Police Commissioner Saitama, whose performance was documented in multiple videos circulating since this afternoon that the Association has yet to officially comment on. The commissioner declined to be interviewed and instead went to supervise the reconstruction of the only establishment damaged during the operation, a local supermarket. Conduct that many are describing as that of a true hero. Why doesn't the Association do things like this?
The images that followed showed my husband destroying the meteorite with a single blow from a distance, then walking among the rubble alongside Genos collaborating with the damage as if he had just done something completely ordinary. As always. No poses, no statements, no interest whatsoever in anyone watching. I couldn't help it. I smiled from ear to ear without caring in the slightest who was looking at that moment, a small tear even appeared in my eyes.
—You can tell you're happy, miss. —said the cashier while finishing scanning the cake, in the tone of someone who considers familiarity an acceptable way to begin a conversation with a customer who has given no signal of wanting one—. It must be a relief that nothing serious happened. Do you live in that area? And that Commissioner Saitama seems very pleasant, perhaps you have a thing for…
She didn't finish the sentence. She looked up at the wrong moment, found my expression and lost her balance falling backward against the counter, trembling and unable to articulate any word coherently.
—I didn't give you permission to speak to me. Give me my order and don't open your mouth again.
She processed the payment in record time and handed over the box without making eye contact at any point. I left the establishment at high speed. According to what I was told afterward, the cashier took several seconds to recover, and when she did she was reasonably certain she had seen something impossible: me walking out smiling even more than before. It was probably the day's stress playing tricks on her.
I flew back to the apartment at a sustained speed with the cake under my arm, already mentally organizing how the evening would go: dinner, celebrating my husband's achievement as was appropriate, and then the two of us alone at last could finally…
I stopped a few meters from the residential complex and the blush on my cheeks vanished instantly.
There were presences that shouldn't be there. More than one. I identified them before landing and the image beginning to form in my head I didn't like at all. I walked the final stretch at a quick pace without quite believing what my senses were confirming. Upon entering the house which didn't have the lock engaged, the scene that greeted me was a surprise.
—Fubuki, thank you for buying the food, but I can eat on my own, you don't need to…
A rice ball of considerable size landed directly in my husband's mouth before he could finish the sentence.
—It's nothing, Darling. You know you have to eat well. —said Fubuki, pressing herself against his arm with a naturalness I catalogued in under a second as completely unacceptable and requiring immediate attention.
—Mrs. Fubuki, move away from sensei immediately. Can't you see you're bothering him? —Genos already had his cannons deployed with his gaze fixed on my sister, with a hostility that in any other circumstance I would have appreciated.
—How bothersome you are, rookie. Lower those. —said Isamu from the other side, in the tone of someone the scene was generating equal irritation in—. Although I'm not fond of seeing two adults behaving like this either. Especially when one of the two acts as if they were half their age.
—Don't worry, Isamu. You know mom and dad love you very much.
—I can consider Oniisan like a father because he earned it! But even though I like you, Mrs. Fubuki, I won't call you mom because I already have one and she's alive! Although I can look into how to turn Oniisan into my dad.
—Little demon…
—Both of you be quiet, you're bothering sensei!
—You be quiet first, rookie, the only thing you do is bother…
—CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!
—The rice needs more salt.
Everyone fell silent at once and looked toward the entrance.
I was standing in the doorway with the cake still in my hands and a smile that didn't fool anyone who knew me well. One of those smiles I used myself when I was processing several things simultaneously and none of them were particularly pleasant. My husband was the first to speak in his usual monotone.
—My dear, welcome. Look, Fubuki's punishment has been cancelled.
—Oh really? And why is that, sweetheart? —I said it with the same calm with which one asks a question whose answer one already knows and doesn't like.
—She warned me about the incident in City Z and coordinated the evacuation. With that I consider she's already served her time. Although next time wait for me when I finish, Fubuki. I didn't tell you to leave the house during that time.
—I know, sweetheart. Next time I'll listen better. —replied Fubuki with a calm I recognized immediately because it was the same one I used when I had planned something far enough in advance not to need nerves.
Then she approached my husband and kissed him with an intensity that had nothing spontaneous or casual about it. It was a calculated strike, executed with the precision of someone who knows exactly what effect they are producing and on whom. My husband didn't know what to do with his hands for approximately two seconds, then the color rose to his ears in a way that would have been completely comical in any other circumstance, and by the time Fubuki pulled back he was still partially paralyzed with an expression oscillating between genuine bewilderment and something considerably more compromising. Literal steam was rising from his ears.
—And as a reward for having resolved the incident —said Fubuki with a smile that was not for him but for me, though she feigned the opposite perfectly— I won't be separating myself from him in the next eight days. We'll have an extremely good time.
She kissed him passionately again.
"Did you enjoy dealing with that dragon-level threat, little sister?"
The message arrived directly in my head, without sound, with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to aim. I processed it in silence and contained fury.
Isamu closed his eyes with an expression of sincere revulsion and turned to the other side, murmuring something that didn't quite reach anyone's ears. Genos deployed the cannons from both palms in absolute silence with his gaze fixed on Fubuki. And I, who had sustained the forced smile throughout the entire exchange with a discipline that was costing me considerably more than I was willing to admit, let it drop at the exact moment my sister looked up and met me directly in the eyes.
There it was. That small, calm and perfectly controlled look that didn't need to say anything because it had already said everything with the kiss and the eight days and the telepathic message. I knew it better than any other in the world because it was my own reflected in another face. Fubuki had learned it from watching me, just as she had learned everything else, and using it in this specific moment was the most irritating detail of the entire night because it meant she had calculated even that.
"Cunning little brat. This isn't over."
I thought it with a coldness that didn't correspond at all to the temperature of the glass that had just shattered behind me without anyone touching it.