As he walked he felt the wind whipping at his face. The cold breeze of the night made his skin feel numb; he welcomed it. It was a stark contrast to his emotions, swirling like a violent storm within him. How he wished he could go back to being numb, go back to... before. Anything was better than this.
He finally reached his destination; a bridge overlooking the ocean. He slowly walked to the edge and looked over the divider. He gazed at the ocean for a long time, until the sun rose and the sky was blue and the clouds were no longer pink. Looking around at his surroundings, he noticed it was actually quite crowded. So he decided to wait until nightfall. He turned from the edge and walked to a nearby lamp post and sat down, his back against the wall that divides him from the ocean; from his death.
He put his hood up and just people watched. How did it come to this? Saitama asked himself.
Please read the tags. Warnings inside.