The next day, New York — Midtown High School.
The early morning sun slanted down on the school gates. Students trickled into campus in twos and threes, laughter and chatter echoing through the air.
"Ha… hyyyyya~"
Damian yawned, rubbed his tired eyes, and shuffled through the entrance.
To avoid being followed by S.H.I.E.L.D., he'd taken a long detour the night before and didn't get home until after 3 a.m. Now he felt groggy, his clothes rumpled, making him look especially disheveled.
But the moment he stepped onto campus, the students around him seemed to hit a mute button.
The usual morning clamor suddenly hushed, replaced by hushed whispers.
"Hey, hey! It's him, right? The guy from yesterday…"
"I heard from the basketball team—he launched a one-handed shot from thirty meters out! The coach's been tearing the gym apart looking for him!"
"Shh! Keep it down—he's looking this way!"
Damian frowned and glanced around. The boys stared at him with wide-eyed awe; the girls stole glances, huddled in small groups, whispering behind their hands.
"…What's going on? This is so weird!"
He muttered under his breath but didn't dwell on it, continuing toward the main building.
Just a few steps in, a voice called out from behind:
"Hey! Z! Wait up!"
Damian turned to see Peter Parker jogging toward him, his backpack bouncing like an overexcited husky.
"Morning! Whoa—you scared me! Z, why do you look like death warmed over? Did I push you too hard last night?"
Damian shot him a glare.
"Listen," Peter continued earnestly, "you're young and full of energy now. Even if you burn the candle at both ends, you can recover. But when you're older and your pipes start leaking—"
"You die for me!"
Peter skidded to a halt, panting—and froze when he got a good look at Damian's face, which resembled someone who'd just clawed his way out of a grave and was now basking in reluctant sunlight.
A string of colorful curses tumbled from Damian's lips.
He raised a hand as if to slap him, but Peter ducked with practiced ease.
After a brief chase that ended in mutual exhaustion, Peter's eyes landed on the pendant around Damian's neck.
"Whoa—what's that? The Eye of God? It's gorgeous! Where'd you get it? I wanna grab one for… uh, for a good friend."
Peter reached out, then pulled back, clearly smitten.
Damian glanced down at the pendant. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"You can't buy this with money," he said with a sigh.
Peter blinked. "Can't buy it? It looks like a fancy glass bead! If it's not for sale, then where'd you get it?"
Damian yawned, completely deadpan:
"Long story. I stole it from a shadowy organization called miHoYo—through sheer grit, a bit of luck, and two plates of mosquito coils plus a dozen little pink rocks."
"miHoYo?!" Peter's voice shot up an octave. "Like… the game company?!"
Damian gave him a sly look. "That's the one. Their leader, Dawei, is a cunning, penny-pinching mastermind who manipulates fate itself through gacha probabilities."
Peter stood frozen, mouth slightly agape, utterly bewildered.
Seeing his expression, Damian finally cracked a grin. He waved a hand dismissively.
"Alright, enough questions. You're gonna be late for class."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Peter Parker rooted to the spot—still trying to reconcile the words "gangster," "gacha," and "mosquito coils" into something that made even a fraction of sense.
At noon, the sun was shining brightly, and a cool breeze blew beneath the shade of the trees.
Damian leaned against an oak tree with his eyes closed, while Peter Parker sat beside him, holding a book titled Advanced Biology. But his eyes were wandering—he was clearly absent-minded.
"Z…"
Peter Parker hesitated for a moment before finally speaking.
"If you have something to say, say it. If you don't, keep it to yourself."
Damian leaned back against the tree and replied lazily, without even opening his eyes.
Hearing this, Peter Parker scratched his head, his voice full of confusion:
"Well… Gwen's birthday is in two weeks and three days, and I still haven't decided what to get her. Do you have any suggestions?"
Damian finally opened his eyes and glanced at him.
"Gwen's birthday? Then you really need to think carefully about her gift. What are her hobbies?"
Peter Parker nodded, his face slightly flushed. After a moment's thought, he replied:
"She's really into biology, so I wanted to give her something special…"
Damian suddenly had a bad feeling. He narrowed his eyes at Peter Parker.
"Uh…?"
"What do you think of a human skeleton model? I actually wanted to get her a real one, but when I asked around, a real human skeleton costs $7,000! Way too expensive!"
Damian: "…."
The air froze for two full seconds.
Slowly, Damian sat up straight and stared at Peter Parker with an expression that could only be described as "Are you brain-dead?"
"Are you serious?"
Under his gaze, Peter Parker shrank inward, lowering his head as his voice grew quieter:
"It's… kind of educational, isn't it?"
Damian took a deep breath, his expression screaming, "Your existence is Durex's apology letter to humanity," and asked flatly:
"When did you two become mortal enemies?"
Peter Parker: "…."
Watching Peter's silence, Damian sneered.
"Giving Gwen a skeleton model as a birthday present? That's a form of psychological warfare I never would've imagined. Honestly, it's a brilliant way to ensure she never develops feelings for you."
He paused, then added with mock sincerity:
"Why don't you just donate your own body to her as a cadaver for anatomy class? At least then you'd save money!"
Peter Parker turned beet red and nearly buried his head between his knees, mumbling:
"…So… what if I gave myself as the gift?"
Damian sighed, looked up at the sky, and thought for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, he said:
"A few days ago, my hometown sent me some potted plants. The varieties might be a little unusual, but they're quite ornamental."
"Plants?" Peter Parker blinked in surprise.
"Yeah. Two of them are thriving, and their flowers are… unique. If you're out of ideas, just come by my place this weekend and pick one out."
Damian said it casually, as if it were no big deal.
Peter Parker's eyes lit up. "Really?! What kind of flower is it?"
"You'll see when you come."
Peter nodded eagerly—then hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing his face.
"Uh… it's not, like… some kind of dangerous species, is it?"
Damian gave him a deadpan look.
"It's way safer than a human skeleton."
Peter Parker: "…."