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I am Saitama - Chapter 34: A day with Mizuki (Part 2)
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 01:39:11 +0000 UTCAfter ending breakfast, Mizuki went to have a shower. Meanwhile, Saitama started to clean everything in her apartment.
The reason? Simple. He just wanted to be a good boyfriend. He never had any girlfriend till now and he didn’t want to screw it up.
He stood up from the table, picking up the plates, glasses, and cutlery they had just used. Mizuki wasn’t messy, but her apartment had that casual “lived-in” touch—some workout clothes in a corner, a towel hanging from a chair, and the faint smell of body spray mixed with shampoo. For Saitama, though, it felt warm, cozy, and strangely personal.
He stacked the plates carefully, balancing them in one hand, and walked to the small sink. Turning on the water, he rolled up his sleeves and began scrubbing each dish. His motions weren’t particularly elegant—he wasn’t used to housework outside of his own tiny apartment—but he was determined.
As the water ran, his thoughts wandered. This feels weird… me, doing dishes in a girl’s place. My girlfriend’s place. Damn. If my old self could see me now, he’d probably think I was in some weird dream.
He dried the first set of plates with a dish towel, setting them neatly on the rack. Then he moved on to the table, wiping it down with slow, deliberate movements, checking twice to make sure there wasn’t a single crumb left behind.
It’s not like she asked me to do this. But… I guess that’s the point, right? Relationships aren’t just fighting monsters or going on dates. It’s… this. Taking care of the little stuff, making her feel comfortable. I don’t know jack about love, but I do know one thing—if I don’t put in the effort, I’ll regret it later.
He picked up her mug, the one Mizuki had been sipping from half-asleep earlier, and gave it an extra careful rinse. He even checked the counters, noticing a few spots and wiping them down too. His apartment cleaning habits weren’t exactly refined, but for her, he wanted to do it right.
By the time Mizuki stepped out of the shower, fresh, radiant, and drying her long hair with a towel, Saitama had already organized the kitchen. Plates stacked, sink spotless, and even the floor seemed a little shinier.
When she noticed, her eyes widened slightly. “Eh? Did you… clean everything?” she asked, tilting her head in that bubbly, incredulous way of hers.
Saitama scratched the back of his neck, looking away. “Yeah. Thought I should, you know… do something nice. Don’t wanna be a crappy boyfriend.”
Her lips curved into a warm smile, cheeks faintly pink. “You’re such a dork, Saita… but thank you.”
For Saitama, those simple words hit harder than any praise he’d ever received after saving a city.
“Hey, Mizu,” he called casually, looking up at her, “you wanna watch a movie?”
She tilted her head slightly, still busy with her hair. “A movie? Yeah, sounds fun!” Her tone was bright, though muffled as she tugged the towel across her damp locks.
Saitama smirked faintly to himself. Alright, good boyfriend move number two: chill movie day.
While she moved around, drying her hair and heading toward her room to change, Saitama opened up this world’s version of Netflix. The interface was slightly different from what he remembered back in his old world, but the idea was the same—rows of titles, colorful posters, and tons of recommendations. He scrolled, eyes narrowing.
“Okay, so…” he started narrating, leaning back against the couch. “First option: Titan Clash. It’s about these giant gods duking it out and humans getting caught in the middle. Lots of explosions, pretty crazy effects.”
From her room, Mizuki’s muffled voice reached him. “Mhm! Sounds intense. What else?”
He switched rows. “Alright, Love Sprint. Rom-com. Two athletes competing for the Olympics accidentally get stuck in the same training camp and, y’know, slowly fall in love while yelling at each other.” He chuckled, scratching his cheek. “Kinda predictable, though.”
Mizuki appeared in the doorway, still towel-drying her hair, now wearing a comfy tank top and shorts. “That one actually sounds cute,” she admitted with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah. But hear me out,” Saitama continued, holding up a finger. “Zombie Rumble 3. Survivors trapped in a mall, surrounded by hordes. Over-the-top gore, chainsaws, and bad one-liners.”
Her laugh rang out instantly, bright and carefree. “Hahaha, sounds awesome.” She sat down beside him, brushing her damp hair over one shoulder to keep drying the other. “But I don’t know if I’m in the mood for chainsaws.”
Saitama scrolled again. “Hmm. How about Hero Academy: The Movie? It’s about rookie heroes trying to prove themselves in a city full of pros. Kind of ironic, huh?”
Mizuki glanced at him from the corner of her eye, lips twitching into a teasing smile. “You’re just trying to show me something close to me now?”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug. “But the reviews say it’s actually pretty good.”
By now, Mizuki had finished drying her hair. She tossed the towel onto a chair and leaned back, folding her legs underneath her. “So, what else is on the list, Mr. Movie Critic?”
Saitama gave her a lazy side glance, then scrolled once more. “Final option: Galaxy Patrol. Sci-fi. A bunch of space cops traveling across galaxies, dealing with aliens and rogue planets. Lots of lasers. Think… Star Wars but with even worse dialogue.”
That earned another laugh from Mizuki, who nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “You’re terrible at selling these. But…” She tapped her chin, pretending to think seriously. “I’d say it’s between the rom-com and the hero one.”
Saitama crossed his arms and tilted his head, pretending to debate. “Rom-com means you’ll be all giggly and maybe tease me the whole time. Hero movie means I’ll get compared to every protagonist on screen.”
Mizuki grinned wide, eyes sparkling. “Exactly.”
He groaned dramatically, letting his head drop back against the couch. “Man… no winning here.” But when he glanced at her again, watching her relaxed smile and the way she finally looked at ease, his expression softened. “Alright, let’s go with the rom-com. Love Sprint. Looks fun enough.”
“Deal.” Mizuki clapped her hands once and leaned into him. “Popcorn?”
“Already on it.” Saitama reached for the remote again, pressing play, while his other hand absently reached for the kitchen in thought. “Guess I’ll need to make some.”
Mizuki giggled at the casual confidence. “You’re too good at this boyfriend thing, you know.”
“Eh,” he muttered, cheeks faintly warm, “just winging it.”
Mizuki snickered softly, shaking her head before disappearing into her room to change into something more comfortable.
Meanwhile on the kitchen, Saitama rummaged through her cupboard until he found a single pack of microwave popcorn tucked at the back. “Jackpot,” he mumbled, tearing it open and tossing it into the microwave. A faint hum filled the apartment, followed by the steady rhythm of kernels popping like distant fireworks.
Ding.
He poured the fluffy popcorn into a large bowl, shaking it lightly to let the buttery aroma spread through the living room. Carrying it over to the couch, Saitama set the bowl down and used the remote to start the movie they had picked earlier.
Just as the opening credits began to roll, he heard the sound of Mizuki’s light steps against the floor. She emerged from her room, freshly changed and ready to lounge.
She wasn’t wearing her usual athletic tracksuit or anything flashy. Instead, Mizuki had slipped into a casual home outfit that somehow made her look even more stunning in its simplicity: a soft oversized white T-shirt that draped lazily off one shoulder, hinting at her toned collarbone and the faintest curve of muscle beneath her skin. The shirt was just long enough to brush over the waistband of her snug, navy-blue cotton shorts. The shorts, casual and practical, framed her strong legs—those runner’s thighs that had been sculpted by years of training and discipline.
Her hair, still slightly damp from the shower, was gathered into a loose side ponytail, with a few strands framing her face. The faint scent of her shampoo—fresh, citrusy, invigorating—seemed to follow her as she padded barefoot across the room. She carried herself with the same natural confidence as always, but there was something intimate about seeing her dressed this way, not as a heroine in action, but simply as Mizuki relaxing at home.
“It smells so good,” she said with a small smile, eyeing the popcorn bowl as she flopped onto the couch beside him, legs folding neatly beneath her.
Saitama scratched his cheek, trying not to look too stiff. “Yeah, well… movie’s not a movie without popcorn, right?”
Mizuki chuckled, her eyes glinting with playful warmth as she reached for a handful.
---
The movie played softly in the background, the flickering light from the screen dancing across the walls of the apartment. Mizuki, after a while of sitting with her legs curled under her, slowly shifted closer. Without a word, she leaned her head gently against Saitama’s shoulder, her damp hair carrying the faint scent of her shampoo.
Saitama froze for just a heartbeat, his heart thudding against his chest in a way no monster fight ever could. Then, almost instinctively, he lifted his left arm and slid it around her shoulders, pulling her in a little closer. Mizuki gave a quiet sigh of contentment, her fingers absentmindedly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes still fixed on the movie.
But Saitama’s mind wasn’t on the film.
He stared ahead, outwardly calm, but inside his thoughts spiraled. How much things have changed… A year ago—no, in his other life—he had been a regular guy, someone who could barely keep up with his rent, someone who thought love and companionship were luxuries meant for others. His life had been a cycle of mediocrity and loneliness, broken only by escapism through manga and anime.
And now?
Now he was here, in this second life, inhabiting the very world he used to read about. He wasn’t just in it—he was the main character, Saitama, the man destined to stand above all. And in this life, he wasn’t just surviving. He had someone by his side. Mizuki’s warmth pressed against him, her trust in him so simple and natural it almost hurt.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he tightened his arm slightly, careful not to startle her.
I won’t mess this up. Not again. Not this life.
The determination crystallized inside him like unshakable steel. Protecting this world was one thing—he had the strength to do it, that was certain. But protecting the people he cared for, the fragile, irreplaceable bonds he had now—that was his real mission. And Mizuki, above anyone else, had become the anchor tying him to something more than battles and power.
She shifted slightly, murmuring something soft about the movie under her breath, her voice half-lulled by the comfort of the moment. He glanced down at her, watching the way her lashes fluttered lightly, the way she seemed so at peace resting against him.
This time… I’ll protect everything. Especially you.
And with that vow echoing silently in his chest, he let himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever, enjoying the simple miracle of sharing popcorn, warmth, and a movie with someone who made this new life worth living.
However Mizuki's thoughts were very different from her boyfriend's.
I'm horny. I'm so horny. I need his dick. She thought as a drop of sweat slid down her forehead.
After the brief fucking they had done yesterday, she still wasn't satisfied and she didn't know why until today she had never had sex of any kind, even when she had multiple opportunities to do it on the Olympic village.
Things were crazy back then, everyday she heard of orgies and gangbangs between the different athletes that came from every part of the world, but not her. She was happy staying on her bed through the night and training during the afternoon when she wasn't on some competition. Not even once she check out one of her teammates, it wasn't that they weren't attractive, she just wasn't interested.
And...she didn't have time for that or at least that was what she said to herself.
But now...
She was horny. And she knew why, it was that dick.
That dick was driving her insane, she had made a good work until now hiding it, but she just couldn't live without her boyfriend's dick, for that same reason, she couldn't even think of breaking up with him on any instance, there was just no way she could settle with another man knowing how it felt to be filled until she couldn't take it anymore.
That thing was 12 inches after all.
12 inches!!
Mizuki wasn't stupid she knew that possibly no other man on Earth could compare to his boyfriend on size. She knew that she was ruined for other men because of that, she would be unhappy with any other size.
And who could blame her?
I need-cock. She thought as she discreetly eyed Saittama bulge while he saw the movie.
Suddenly, her hand began to move towards it. Slowly but surely, it got closer, until...
"What are you doing?" Asked Saitama, his face with a confused expression.
"Uh...."
Comments
firerock laser
Thanks for the chapter
