The Storm

The burly man's fist came crashing down.

The other examinees burst out laughing.

"That bald guy's finished."

"One punch from that big guy could smash a rock."

The fist whistled through the air, heading straight for Saitama's face.

Crack.

The laughter stopped.

The burly man froze with his fist outstretched, the vicious look still on his face. Then his eyes flew wide, his mouth fell open, and his whole face twisted.

"Aaah!"

He screamed like a pig being slaughtered.

He dropped to his knees with a thud and clutched his right hand. Every finger bent the wrong way from the wrist onward, like a lump of crushed clay.

A deathly silence fell over the deck.

Someone gasped so loudly the whole deck could hear it. Someone else dropped their luggage without even noticing. The people who had jeered the loudest moments ago clamped their mouths shut, hardly daring to breathe.

Everyone took three steps back at once. A wide space opened on the deck.

No one dared look at Saitama.

Saitama scratched his cheek.

"Little itchy."

He turned, walked to the railing, and went back to watching the sea, as if nothing had happened.

The burly man was still screaming on his knees. No one dared help him up.

On the other side of the deck, a crewman named Katz was gathering ropes. Two examinees walked over and deliberately kicked apart the coil he had just made.

"Think you're special because you're crew?"

Katz lowered his head and started coiling the rope again without a word. One of them shoved his shoulder. "Are you deaf?" Katz stumbled back two steps and hit the railing.

The examinee who had shoved him caught sight of Saitama out of the corner of his eye. His hand stopped in midair. He had been among the people jeering earlier.

"Let's go."

"Why?"

"That bald guy... You saw what happened."

They walked away at twice the pace they had arrived. Katz looked toward Saitama. Saitama yawned.

"I'm going to be the best Hunter!"

The shout came from the bow.

A boy with spiky hair stood with his hands on his hips, grinning brightly. The other examinees glanced at him, but no one responded. Most of them still hadn't recovered from what they had just seen.

Gon didn't mind at all. He turned and saw Katz leaning against the railing, with rope scattered all around him.

"Are you okay?"

He ran over, crouched down, and helped coil the rope. He finished in no time, dusted off his hands, and stood up.

Then he saw Saitama.

Gon walked over and looked up at Saitama's bald head.

"Mister! Why didn't you dodge when that big guy hit you?"

Saitama looked down at him. His eyebrow twitched.

"...Mister?"

"Yeah! I'm Gon! What's your name, mister?"

A tiny vein popped out on Saitama's forehead.

"...I'm only twenty-five."

Gon tilted his head. "Twenty-five is pretty old. I'm twelve."

The vein on Saitama's forehead grew a little bigger.

"Call me big bro."

"Huh? But Aunt Mito said I should be polite when I'm away from home—"

"Big bro."

Gon thought for a moment, then grinned. "Big bro Saitama!"

The vein vanished. "Yeah."

"Big bro Saitama, you still haven't told me why you didn't dodge."

"Couldn't be bothered."

Gon's eyes lit up. "That's amazing! So you won't dodge the storm either?"

"The storm?"

Gon pointed at the sky. "It's coming soon. A really big storm."

Saitama looked down at his clean yellow T-shirt.

It's going to rain?

Should I take shelter?

I'd have to walk over there.

The cabin's crowded.

Noisy.

I'd have to open the door.

And close it.

I'm going to get wet anyway.

Forget it.

He frowned.

Gon ran to the lookout and scrambled up. Seabirds flew low, and the clouds thickened.

Gon ran to the lookout and scrambled up. Seabirds flew low, and the clouds thickened.

"Captain! A storm's coming! A really big one!"

The captain came out with a pipe in his mouth, glanced up, and ordered the sails furled. The crew sprang into action.

The examinees on deck finally came to their senses and began talking in little groups.

"A storm? What's that kid going on about?"

"The sea's calm. What storm?"

"We're not even done with that bald guy, and now there's another one."

Gon climbed down from the lookout and went into the cabin. Two people inside were arguing.

One was a blond youth leaning against a pillar with his arms folded, speaking coolly.

"You can't buy character with money."

Facing him was a tall man in sunglasses and a suit, his tie hanging loose.

"You can't do anything without money!"

Their argument grew heated. The blond youth's expression never changed, while the man in sunglasses turned red in the face.

Gon walked over. "Stop arguing. A storm's coming."

They turned to him at the same time. "What storm?"

Outside the cabin, the sky suddenly darkened.

Rain poured down.

The ship pitched violently. The examinees in the cabin were thrown all over the place. Some vomited; others lay sprawled on the floor.

Gon didn't stay in the cabin. He ran to the very front of the deck, spread his arms against the wind and rain, and grinned.

"What a strong wind!"

Rain lashed his face, but he didn't care.

He had barely been standing there when he caught sight of an examinee flung into the air by a huge wave. The man flailed as he flew toward the edge of the ship.

Gon sprinted over, grabbed his ankle, and hauled him back. The examinee landed on the deck, pale as a sheet and unable even to say thank you.

Gon was already gone.

He spotted another examinee clinging to a pillar, his grip slowly slipping. Gon rushed over, steadied him by the shoulder, dragged him to the cabin door, and pushed him inside.

Throughout the storm, Gon kept running back and forth across the deck. He helped fallen examinees to safety, dragged those losing their grip into the cabin, and moved those too sick to stand into a corner.

Rain blurred his vision. He wiped his face with one hand and kept running.

Kurapika stood by the cabin door with his arms folded. The wind tossed his blond hair, but his expression remained calm and his body barely swayed. His gaze followed Gon the whole time.

Leorio gripped the railing with both hands, looking miserable and pale. His sunglasses sat crooked, and his tie had blown over his shoulder.

"That Gon... What's he running around for...?"

He could barely stand himself, let alone help anyone.

The examinees in the cabin watched through the windows. Most were too sick to think straight. Those few still alert kept their eyes on Gon as he ran back and forth.

No one watched Saitama.

Saitama stood by the railing. No matter how violently the ship rocked, he didn't budge.

Rain hammered down on him. His clean T-shirt was soaked in an instant and clung to his back.

He looked down at his drenched T-shirt.

Wet after all.

The vein reappeared on his forehead, larger than before.

He didn't take a single step the entire time.

Gon ran past him three times. The first time, he dragged a seasick examinee. The second, he supported one whose legs had gone weak. The third, he carried a burly man taller than himself.

Each time he passed, Gon called out, "Big bro Saitama! You still aren't taking shelter?"

Saitama ignored him.

The third time, Saitama glanced at him. The kid was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead and rain streaming down his face. He was still smiling.

The vein on Saitama's forehead faded a little.

The wind and rain stopped.

People lay scattered across the deck, and the cabin was much the same. Vomit, seawater, and broken planks were everywhere.

Gon finally stopped. He stood in the middle of the deck, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Then he straightened up, wiped the water from his face, and smiled again.

"It's over!"

In front of the television, Genos stared at the screen.

The storm. Gon ran across the deck throughout it. Examinees rescued: seven. This included the one who had jeered at Master most viciously earlier. Rescue methods: grabbed one by the ankle and dragged him back, supported two by the shoulders and brought them into the cabin, carried four into the cabin. Total distance run: 427 meters. Calories burned: impossible to measure precisely. Expression: smiling throughout.

Kurapika stood by the door without moving. Leorio clung to the railing, his face pale. Neither helped.

Master stood by the railing without budging. He had predicted three minutes and seventeen seconds in advance that he would get soaked and decided not to take shelter. He showed no sign of regretting it at any point.

That was where Master's strength lay. Once he made a decision, he never wavered in the slightest.

Genos immediately added a line to his notebook.

Gon ran past Master three times, calling, "Big bro Saitama, you still aren't taking shelter?" each time. Master ignored him. On the third pass, Master glanced at Gon, and his finger moved. Distance: 0.3 centimeters. Duration: 0.1 seconds. No one noticed. Then the vein on his forehead faded a little.

Genos paused the video and enlarged it frame by frame.

The vein had indeed faded a little. It hadn't disappeared completely; it had gone from "moderate" to "slight."

Master really did have a high tolerance for children. Gon spent the storm running around rescuing people, while Master was still concerned about his wet shirt. But Gon called out to him every time he passed, and by the third time, the vein had faded.

It wasn't that Gon's actions had moved him.

Gon's persistence had simply worn away his irritation.

It was like knocking again and again on a stone's door. On the third knock, the stone still wouldn't open it, but it no longer frowned.

I used to knock on Master's door like that all the time.

Master was the same way.

He wouldn't open the door.

But he'd stop frowning.

Genos wrote all of that in his notebook.

Then he picked up a potato chip.

Conclusion: Master could not remain irritated for long in the face of persistent goodwill. But only from children.

Additional prediction: If Leorio ran past Master three times calling, "Big bro Saitama, you still aren't taking shelter?" the vein on Master's forehead would grow larger. Predicted accuracy: 99.7%.

Potato chip supply: more than half a bag of seaweed flavor remained.