I: Solum.
Nightwing enters his apartment bedroom through his window and peels his mask off, the fabric falling to the floor as his feet walk by. Methodically, he removes the rest of his suit: starting from the top to bottom. First the mask, then the gloves, after which he reaches behind him to pull down the discreet zipper on the nape of his neck. The suit peels of like snakeskin and falls down in a puddle on the floor. He steps over them, removing his leather boots on the way to the bathroom where his underwear is removed last.
The sun was already beginning to greet the people of Blüdhaven as he stepped into the shower and began to clean himself. Ten minutes of standing below the pouring shower and his muscles had relaxed, all the soot and dirt sliding of his body and down the drain between his feet.
After drying himself and getting dressed, Nightwing briefly glanced at his wall clock which now read 7:49 and with the air of someone having done this too many times, walked down the stairs with purpose. He prepared his morning coffee and sandwich, glanced at the clock once more and flipped the close sign on the glass door to open.
It was now 8:00 in the morning at a busy street in Blüdhaven City and Richard Grayson was now awake and once more the owner of Le Prihor café/ bookstore. He sat behind the counter sipping on his morning coffee and reading the morning paper, a habit he could not shake off no matter how many years it has been since the early titan days.
It was a slow and quiet day, with two to three people walking in to browse at the rather vast selection of books every few hours. A few regulars returned also to either purchase literature, order a beverage or two to read on one of the comfy chairs, or both.
Although a typical day in the café was slow-paced and rather uneventful, Richard enjoyed it. Over time, the weight of his superhero identity was becoming too much and he found he needed a sense of normalcy to keep himself sane- which was how the business came to be. Not that he didn't like it- he realized he actually enjoyed it. Early evenings doing inventory and restocking supplies was something to keep himself busy, distract his mind on other things besides his superhero duties.
But the day had to end, as it always did and soon it was seven in the evening and Richard found himself flipping the sign to close once again before locking up. And just like that, a mental switch also turned inside of him. He was a superhero once more.
As Nightwing jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the same sense of nostalgia hit him once more as it did every beginning of his solo night patrols. Too many nights with a certain bat would do that to anyone. Stealthy and calculating as a black panther, Nightwing leaped and ran and climbed with a matured grace. His once arrogant and flashy saunter now a subdued confidence mixed with determination, that could only be the result of years of fighting.
Light on his feet, he blended into the darkness. Always on his toes, ready to spring at any given time. Eventually, his eyes settled on a man walking alone through the back alleys, both hands occupied with two grocery bags each. And ten feet away from him were two guys in hooded jackets, one holding a knife which bounced off light from a streetlamp that hit the masked vigilante's eyes. His muscles locked into place, eerily still while waiting for the right moment.
It was much different now- working alone. He had been used to fighting alongside others, giving out orders, ensuring the safety of his team, planning strategy at the back of his mind while driving on the way to the scene of the crime. Now he had only himself to account for, and it just made things easier.
When one of the men in the hooded jacket with the knife grabbed the lone man by the neck and the other hesitated before grabbing the grocery bags on the concrete, it became obvious that the robbers were beginners. Mere amateurs.
Like a recoiled spring, Nightwing sprang into action, smoothly kicking the man with the knife effectively knocking him out, and knocked out the other while he stood frozen in his spot, the front of his khaki pants visibly less dry than it was a few moments ago. It was less than a minute before he was kneeling beside the victimized man, making sure he was alright and dropping the two rookies off at the police station.
The rest of the night was filled with a few more robberies and alley fights- nothing too big, and he was now contemplating returning to his apartment when he felt a weird presence in the back of mind. The feeling when you know exactly what the right words are, on the tip of your tongue yet can't bring yourself to mouth. But he had no more time to scratch that particular itch when he heard the distinct scream of a woman ten blocks away. He quickly leaped to the adjacent building, ran to the back where he slid two floors down the fire escape ladder and jumped off where he sprinted the rest of the 3 blocks. However, when he arrived at the source he did not expect what he saw.
On the dirty concrete, by the dumpster were three men tied together tightly with what appeared to be on closer inspection, the pole attached to a no parking sign. Their weapons were on the floor a safe distance away from them, while one man, whom Nightwing recognized as one of the city's wanted criminals was on the floor, also kept in place with what appeared to be the exhaust pipe from a motorcycle parked a few feet away. All four men were knocked out.
"H-he saved us."
Nightwing turned around to the woman who had been the source of the scream. In her arms was a three year old whom Nightwing assumed was her son. He began to approach them and noticed the young boy bury himself in his mother's neck.
"I was walking down the sidewalk to our c-car… A-and my son… His yo-yo bounced off… I went to get it and when I came b-back those guys were grabbing my son and threatened to shoot me if I didn't give him the keys to my car. B-but then he suddenly appeared out of nowhere he… He saved us."
"Alright maam, I need you to calm down now. What exactly did this man look like?"
Nightwing stepped into the light as he spoke this calmly and reassuringly, a look of familiarity flashed in the woman's eyes and she gradually stopped shaking.
"I-I don't exactly know… He was wearing this hood over his face, which was attached to a long coat. All I saw were his hands and shoes, and when it was all over, he just suddenly disappeared into thin air."
At the woman's description, alarm bells started ringing in Nightwing's head.
"So you're saying there some new hero or vigilante, or whatever in your city now?"
Richard shrugged. It was Sunday afternoon, two days since that night and on Sundays, the bookshop was closed. He took another swig of his beer before throwing it into the garbage bin and getting a new one from the cooler below his feet.
"Damn! I wonder who this sneaky bastard is. I just can't believe he managed to do all that and in 40 seconds! I mean, are you sure you counted 40?"
Victor Stone turned around from his position below a prototype of a jet he was working on. He motioned for a beer, and Richard tossed him one.
"I'm damn sure. I've done that same routine a thousand times before, and it's never taken me more than 40 seconds to reach someone only ten blocks away from that specific location in Petunia street."
His finger wrapped around the metal ring on the cover and peeled it off, the cold liquid inside fizzing all over the top.
"Besides it's not my city, Cy. I just happen to live there."
Victor smiled at the nickname and wiped some foam from his top lip before returning to his work. This was the fourth time the Justice League had contacted him to work on a project for them and he was ecstatic with his new design.
"Whatever you say, Rob. Still, you gotta admit that's a pretty impressive feat for just some "random rookie". And with the way that woman described his exit, I'm willing to bet my money that dude's got some sort of superpowers on him to just disappear from thin air like that. Mind handing me my welding shield?"
Richard got up from his seat and handed Victor what he needed before he went on with his work.
"Looks like you ain't the only hero Bludhaven has now."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. That guy could be working for someone else those those thugs are probably in a gang-related feud with. Or he could be one of the bad guys, for all I know. He may not even have powers, considering the woman was still in shock when I questioned her. But I haven't had any sightings of this guy since. And I've been patrolling every night since then, I covered the entire city at least thrice last night hoping to corner him."
"Corner him? What for?"
"To determine his motives, of course."
Victor put a halt on his work for a moment to turn and stare at him and shake his head, much like a discouraging older brother.
"Man, there you go again obsessing over every little thing!"
Richard chose to ignore that statement and finished the rest of his drink instead while Victor tsked and retured to his work.
"Don't stress yourself out too much, Rob. And besides, if that guy really has some sort of ulterior motive for appearing to be on your side, he'll come to you."