One Punch Man: I am Saitama

After finishing the fitness test, Saitama wandered through the various training zones reserved for heroes of different ranks. Each section had its own set of pristine, high-end training equipment, padded floors, and reinforced walls for high-impact activity. The B-Class and A-Class zones were bustling with energy—heroes sparring, lifting, sprinting, and shouting encouragement (or insults) at each other.

The S-Class section, however, was nearly empty.

Except for Superalloy Darkshine, who was gleaming under the gym lights, pumping what looked like two cars' worth of metal as if they were grocery bags. Every time he finished a rep, he would flex with a smile in the mirror and mutter "Perfect... simply perfect."

Saitama (or rather, the man inside Saitama) didn't want to interrupt that.

So, he kept walking.

Eventually, he reached a cardio area filled with treadmills and rowing machines. That's when he saw her.

Captain Mizuki.

His breath caught slightly.

Oh no way. No fucking way. Mizuki? Already in the association?! I thought she showed up way later... but here she is. My crush. The track queen. The one-woman Olympics. The muscular goddess herself…

She was wearing a sleek, tight blue spandex set that left little to the imagination, her medals jingling faintly as she ran. Her long, dark-orange hair swayed with each step of her powerful stride, and her expression was laser-focused—serious and yet spirited, like a pro athlete chasing a world record.

Saitama didn't even realize he had stopped walking. He just stood there, dumbfounded.

Man, she looks even better in person. Should I talk to her? Say something cool? Compliment her form? No, that's weird. Don't be weird. Just… say something normal.

But while he was overthinking, Mizuki had already finished her session.

The treadmill beeped loudly as it slowed to a stop, and she stepped off with a victorious smile.

"One hour and a half at thirty KPH. Yesss!" she said, pumping a fist. "I'm totally—uh, I mean… I'm rising through the hero ranks fast!"

She caught herself before finishing her old athlete chant. Old habits die hard.

As she reached for a towel and started dabbing at the sweat along her forehead, she finally noticed the bald guy standing awkwardly close to her treadmill, frozen like a deer in headlights.

Hmm? He's been there a while. Wait... did I block him from using the machine? Oh no! He must have been waiting. But there's like six other treadmills... why this one? Maybe it's habit? Yeah, totally. Athletes are creatures of habit. He probably didn't want to break his routine!

Cheerful as always, Mizuki stepped up to him with a big, friendly grin.

"Hey! Sorry for hogging the treadmill. You wanna use it next?"

Saitama blinked, and time stopped.

She was talking to him.

OH NO, SHE'S TALKING TO ME. ACT NORMAL. ACT COOL. BREATHE—OH GOD WHY IS MY FACE SO HOT—

He opened his mouth.

"I uh—ye—I—uh treadmill—yes—I mean no—no, wait, I mean maybe? Or—uh—uhm…"

He couldn't form words. His brain short-circuited halfway through his fourth nervous sentence fragment. His cheeks were tinted pink, betraying his internal panic.

Mizuki tilted her head, slightly puzzled.

"Are you okay? You seem kinda flustered." Her tone was warm, not judgmental. "You sure you're not overexcited? That happens sometimes when you're pumped for a good workout."

Saitama, still struggling to control his thoughts, managed a stiff nod. "Yeah. Workout. Totally."

GODDAMMIT, SHE THINKS I'M AN IDIOT. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?!

Mizuki, thankfully, seemed unfazed by the weird interaction. In fact, she chuckled softly and offered him her spot.

"Well, the machine's all yours! Just make sure to keep a good pace or it might throw you off. Trust me—I've seen it happen." She gave him a playful wink and slung the towel over her shoulder.

Saitama swallowed hard and nodded again, stepping onto the treadmill like it was a battlefield.

As she walked off, humming happily to herself, he sighed deeply.

I just embarrassed myself in front of the hottest woman in the entire Association... great job, idiot. You literally fought a dragon-level monster the other day, and this is what takes you down? A smile and a 'hello'?!

He punched the treadmill's control button and muttered, "Why couldn't this body come with a built-in charm stat...?"

From across the gym, Mizuki glanced back once, just briefly, and smiled.

He's kinda cute, in a weird, awkward way. Hope he gets his confidence up.

She bounced off toward the water fountain, medals clinking as she walked, while Saitama tried to run his embarrassment away.

Back on the treadmill, the fan-turned-Saitama's chest tightened with humiliation.

He couldn't take it no more.

With a hiss of frustrated breath, he hopped off the treadmill, turned around on his heel, and sprinted out of the Hero Association HQ.

The world blurred.

He didn't just break the sound barrier—he shattered it.

Within a few milliseconds, the high-tech training halls and wide glass corridors of the HQ vanished behind him. A boom echoed in the distance as he tore through A-City like a living missile. Glass shook in their frames, pedestrians ducked for cover, and papers swirled into the air in his wake.

He zoomed across the streets of B-City, then C-City, his body on autopilot as buildings became little more than vertical blurs in his peripheral vision. Cars honked in confusion, leaves got sucked into his slipstream, and the air itself vibrated from the sheer velocity he was moving at.

Mach 5? Mach 6? He wasn't sure anymore. He didn't care.

All he could think was:

WHAT AN IDIOT!! Why did I freeze up like that?! Why couldn't I just say "Hey, nice running"? Or "You're really inspiring"? Or literally anything that didn't sound like a hard-drive crashing? I embarrassed myself in front of the hottest woman alive! WHY WON'T I JUST DIE?! That's the only way to redeem myself right now!!

And yet, he kept running.

The streets eventually faded. Skyscrapers gave way to industrial warehouses. Then empty city outskirts. Then rough, overgrown roads. And then…

A cliff.

He stopped only when there was nothing else to run over.

Dust trailed behind him like smoke as he skidded to a halt, toes resting inches from the edge of a craggy precipice.

The coast of the Mega-Continent stretched before him. Endless blue waves shimmered under the golden light of a low-hanging sun, stretching beyond the horizon like a sea of glass. The wind howled faintly up the cliff face, salty and crisp.

He dropped to a seated position on the grass, legs dangling over the edge.

His chest still heaved—not from exertion, but from mortification.

"Goddamn it…" he muttered into the sea breeze. "It's just a woman, you idiot…"

He closed his eyes.

This isn't just nerves, man. This is the disconnect. I'm not Saitama. I'm just some idiot from another world trapped in his absurdly perfect body. And I still think like a guy who worked 9-to-5 in a boring job, crushing on fictional women and never saying a word about it. He thought almost screaming.

How am I supposed to be chill about this?! I used to watch her from my screen and now she's a living, breathing person jogging right in front of me like nothing happened. Of course I froze. I still haven't fully processed that I'm even here!

He let the silence hang for a moment longer. The rhythmic crash of the waves below steadied his heartbeat.

Okay. Deep breath. It wasn't that bad. I probably looked like a dork, yeah… but hey, I didn't run away crying. And Mizuki didn't treat me like a creep. She even smiled. That's gotta count for something, right?

He took a deep breath.

Next time, I'll do better. I'll just… talk to her like a normal guy. No fanboy squealing. No mental breakdowns. Just... be cool.

He stood up again, brushing off the seat of his shorts.

Yeah. That's the plan. Talk. Like a normal person. Eventually. Someday.

He turned around and stretched his arms once more, now facing inland.

But right now… Genos is probably back in Z-City waiting for me. Time to stop moping and get back to the "sensei" job.

With a low crouch and a light breath, Saitama pushed off the cliffside and blasted into the air like a cannonball, landing halfway across the countryside in a blink before disappearing again in a sonic boom.

Back to Z-City.

Back to Genos.

Back to pretending he had any idea what he was doing.