The Splendid Spider-Man

by New DCD

Untold millions are familiar with a story that goes like this: a young, brilliant outcast is bitten by a unique spider, granting him marvelous abilities he learns to use for good. Hikigaya Hachiman could've never imagined that description would someday apply to him as well. But can a living, breathing human ever match an ideal hero? Could he ever become...a Splendid Spider-Man?

2. Mulling Over

There has to be such a thing as being drunk with power. The only conclusion I can draw is that's what I experienced.

For the first time in recorded history, a human being displays superpowers, and that person just happens to be me. Swept up in all the immediate happenings and maybe feeling all my middle school cosplay fantasies validated, I rushed headfirst into mortal peril.

Loners are delicate creatures. We are not built for excitement, and being in the spotlight makes us shrivel, unable to function. Now, the media blitz focusing on my adopted alter ego makes me want to curl up and die.

The more I dwell on it, the more I want to slap myself and shout "what were you thinking?!". Spider-Me would have to answer "I wasn't!" and I'd still be left to deal with the fallout. Seriously, past me, I expected these shenanigans from middle school Hachiman, not from you.

On his way up to the roof, Hikigaya Hachiman passed by a group of first year girls heading towards the opposite direction. Red web-patterned pins adorned their lapels, and when he caught a glimpse, the observant teen bit the inside of his cheek.

This is exactly what I'm referring to.

Suppose a popular superhero suddenly became real in your city. How do you think the inhabitants would react?

Being the hot topic on everyone's lips is jarring; being adored is more unnatural than clinging to walls. Can you imagine if people knew who Spider-Man was? "Ugh, of course that creep would be a spider. Gross." They'd look on in disgust and equate me to some lowly insect. Hey, arachnids might be creepy crawlies, but they're not bugs! Apologize to spiders everywhere!

Granted, my own hatred of insects would've caused me to make the same mistake in the past. Sorry, spider-bros. That was before I became part of your numbers. You're all right.

Bottom line is, the Spider-Man of Chiba is already being idealized, almost deified. "Oh, he leapt out of the comic book and defeated Tsuchigumo!" No, I got my ass kicked really, really hard! I got lucky he snapped out of...whatever crazy high he'd been on. Otherwise, I'd be deader than dead. How's that for heroic?

Then there's the influx of tourists visiting Chiba, both from other parts of Japan and abroad, many hoping to catch a glimpse of Spider-Man swinging overhead. Too bad I'm not planning on making any more public appearances. Regardless, please enjoy Chiba. Cut Chiba some slack, too; it's still working on rebuilding.

He stepped out to the roof, a cool breeze biting at his exposed skin. The temperature wasn't unbearable, but it was definitely chilly and most would rather stay indoors in this weather.

Adjusting his scarf a little, he peeked both ways in search of any other anomalous creatures that'd prefer to have lunch out in the cold. Coast clear, he jumped backwards over the tall stairway bulkhead, then rested his back against the gray dome-like structure protruding from the top.

Of course, superpowers do have their perks. For example, giving me access to this new potential lunch spot. I can't think of another place this private in school grounds.

As he unwrapped a yakisoba bread, the door underneath swung open with a metallic creak. "Hey, Hach, you here?"

…Oh, great. I just had to jinx it.

In the shadow of the bulkhead stood Kakeru Tobe, grinning upwards at the other youth, unseen from his vantage. "Come on, dude, I know you're up there."

"No, I'm not."

Tobe grinned wider. "Mind to help your buddy up there?"

"…I do mind," Hachiman answered dismissively, taking a bite of his noodle sandwich.

Tobe's shoulders slumped somewhat. "Y'know, if you're gonna blow me off, you gotta at least say 'I'm not your buddy, pal!' or somethin'!"

"What are you even rambling on about?" Hachiman rolled his eyes before shifting his body to peer at the other boy beneath. "Even if I wanted to pull you up," he raised his arms and presented his sleeves, "no web shooters."

"Can't you come down and take me up?"

Hachiman glared. "No."

"Why not?"

Hachiman brought a palm to his face.

Of all the classmates I could've been stuck with during my origin story, why did it have to be Tobe? Seriously, who even cares about Tobe?

"Because," he said through gritted teeth, "I could be seen. In case you haven't noticed, I'm sticking to blind spots."

"Aw, man, I suppose you have a point. Then let's have lunch elsewhere!"

"I refuse."

Tobe deflated. "Why not?"

"If people see us eating together, they'll know something is up."

Actually, I just want you to leave me alone, but nonetheless what I said is true. It's been little over a week since all that insanity unfolded. The timing would invite scrutiny, and scrutiny is no good. As I stated before, loners are delicate creatures.

Tobe sighed. "I suppose that's true. After school, then?"

Hachiman shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

"Oh! There's one thing. Here, catch!" Tobe produced a thick tome from a backpack slung over his shoulder, lobbing it upwards at the other boy with surprising accuracy despite its heft. The perched youth snatched the airborne book and studied its cover.

"Spider-Man: Great Power"? ...Seems to be a collection of his earliest comics. Come to think of it, hasn't this sort of stuff been selling really well lately? They said on the news that publishers worldwide have been scrambling to reprint and translate Spider-Man stories after my escapade the other day. They can't seem to keep up with demand, either. Hey, Marvel, where's my royalty check? Or should I just be happy you don't send me a cease-and-desist?

"Why are you giving me this?"

"There's no instruction manual to being Spider-Man, right? This is as close as you get to that."

"You want me to study comic books," Hachiman deadpanned, "as reference?"

"Pretty smart, right?" Tobe rubbed under his nose with his index finger, self-assuredness evident on his features.

"...Congratulations. Your brilliance has shocked me to the point I have nothing to say."

"Aw, shucks!" Tobe missed the biting sarcasm entirely and sheepishly scratched behind his head. "Yeah, I know it's a little silly, but maybe we'll learn a thing or two!"

"I'm not planning on playing the superhero ever again, though."

"You keep sayin' that," Tobe grinned, "but I'll get through to you eventually!"

Such is my unfortunate relationship with Kakeru Tobe. Tobe, Tobe, Tobecchi, life isn't a comic, cartoon, or movie. Heroics are an easy way to an early grave. Spare me your "guy in the chair" aspirations, as you call them. I suppose I can borrow this for later, though; the light novel I've been reading is rather lackluster.

"Thanks, I guess. Now get back to your usual group before they come looking for you."

Tobe's expression instantly took a turn for the disheartening, and he shuffled nervously in place. "That's...not going to happen."

Ah, that's right. That Yamato guy hasn't come back to school. Hiratsuka told us he was fine, but her expression when announcing to the class he'd be gone for some time...something must've happened, and it's been looming over their little clique ever since. They're unsure how to deal with the situation, and pretending nothing is wrong is clearly taking a toll on them.

Hachiman released a deep breath. "I'll be there after Club. No promises about what happens next, but I'll be there."

Tobe perked up a little. "That's all I'm askin', Hach. See ya."

With that, Tobe went back down the stairs. Hachiman took to seating once more, intent on finishing his meal.

Tobe's a good guy, if annoying, but he just doesn't understand. How could he? He wasn't the one that had the tar beat out of him. He wasn't crushed by wreckage, or shot at by helicopters...these abilities don't make me immortal.

His right hand, still grasping the half-eaten yakisoba bread, began to tremble. With his other hand, he gripped his wrist, staying the shakes. He took a deep breath, and then a soft sigh escaped him.

That's why I must've been drunk. The terror of death was always there, but it was only in hindsight I truly realized how close I was to meeting my end. I don't want that.

I don't want any more nightmares.

---

He waited for Yuigahama on the usual spot; the nearest corner by their classroom in the direction of the clubroom. She chastised him again for not waiting for her, despite him clearly doing so, and he'd receive a halfhearted bash from her, using her school bag as a weapon. He thought how that had once been the closest he'd ever been to receiving a proper blow from another individual, before diverting his mind elsewhere.

He didn't want to remember the pain of being struck again and again in the chest.

"So, Yuigahama. About Yamato," Hachiman begun, and the girl sadly shook her head, light orange-brown locks swaying with the motion.

"We haven't been able to get a hold of him...What could've happened...?" she gazed at nothing in particular, forlorn. Hachiman pressed his lips together, studying her. She still looked like Yuigahama Yui, her hair tied up in the usual side bun, her coral pupils gleaming, her uniform fashionably unkempt. Yet, her ever-present smile was not there, and her step dragged as if she was carrying an unseen load.

"Hiratsuka said he was alright, though..." Hachiman trailed off, and Yui nodded absentmindedly. With the door to the Service Club in front of both, there was no reason to continue the conversation. He knocked twice and opened the entryway with a lazy tug.

"Yahallo, Yukinon!" Yui delivered an energetic greeting, albeit forced.

"Yo," Hachiman followed up with his usual salutation, closing the entrance behind him.

"Yuigahama, Hikigaya. Hello," Yukinoshita Yukino welcomed them with a small, gentle grin. Jet black tresses arched past her back as she leaned forward and placed a translation of The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka on the table next to her. Two narrow strands of crimson fabric jutted out from between the pages of the novel, part of a bookmark, matching in color the pair of thin ribbons decorating her shimmering hair just over the shoulders. Her pale blue eyes tracked the new arrivals, who each settled on their own chairs. Her two schoolmates seated, she presented each with a cup of tea.

Hachiman took a moment to gaze at the gentle billows coming from his hot drink. His finger traced the silhouette of Pan-san decorating his cup, unconsciously curling his lips upwards.

"Ah, Hikki..."

"That's an uncharacteristically serene expression for you, Hikigaya," Yukino uttered.

"Hikki, is there something on your mind?" Yui ended up asking.

"Just...thinking. It's nothing important."

I don't want to say it. I don't want to say I'm glad to be alive, and that I've learned to treasure these quiet moments with you more than ever. I don't want to say it was you I thought of when I was about to die. I don't want you to worry for me. I don't want you to think about me getting hurt. That's why...I can't tell you.

"Hikigaya, could it be about the Siege of Chiba?" Yukino asked past a sad smile. "It's all right. We're all still reeling, and learning to cope."

"...Yeah. How despite all what happened, we still managed to return to our daily lives."

Yukino nodded in understanding. "...The damage to the city, not to mention the casualties...it's not the thing you'd imagine could ever happen in Japan, much less Chiba. Despite all this, the citizenry is generally in high spirits. It's rather bittersweet."

"Um, it's because of Spider-Man, isn't it?" Yuigahama interjected shyly.

"…To think such a person could exist..." Yukino commented pensively. "You could argue people feel reassured, knowing he's out there."

Hachiman tensed a hand under the table.

"Do you feel that way too, Yukinon?" Yui asked, cocking her head.

Yukino crossed her arms. "It would be unreasonable to place so many expectations on a single individual, much less one that we know next to nothing about. Even so, it is indeed comforting to know there might be someone we can rely on should another terrible incident unfold."

"What about you, Hikki?" Yui craned her head at Hachiman. "What do you think of Spider-Man?"

Hachiman stared down at his reflection on the surface of the drink.

"I don't know."

He took a sip of tea and set the cup back down.

"Imagine having to risk your life simply because you ended up with abilities you might have not even wished for. Let's assume for a moment that's how it played out. Could anybody really fault you if you decided not to get involved?"

"If he's not part of law enforcement, allowing the professionals to handle the issue would actually be what's expected," Yukino stated.

"Bu-but," Yui began, "If he hadn't intervened, many of those officers wouldn't be alive today, would they?"

"It wasn't his responsibility," Hachiman said, and then raised his index finger towards Yui when she looked just about ready to interrupt. "I'm pretty sure you're about to quote a certain phrase right now, but I'm afraid it's not so simple. What motivation could he truly have? Humans act when there's something to be gained; that's our nature. How long do you believe someone could continue to put their lives on the line for no compensation?"

"Hikigaya, do you remember the definition for 'volunteering' I shared with you, back when you joined the club?" Yukinoshita asked.

"Something about a duty those who 'have' hold towards 'have-nots'?" Hachiman recalled with some effort.

"That'll do. Have you considered Spider-Man does not share your warped worldview?"

I would be very worried about my sanity if that were the case.

"Perhaps he's simply volunteering his fantastic abilities for the good of others, or possibly they make him feel duty-bound," Yukino finished.

"That's just another way of saying, 'With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility'!" Yuigahama protested.

...She actually went ahead and said it... Hachiman groaned inwardly.

"He could just as well be a thrill-seeker, or trying to play out childhood fantasies, or maybe he's firmly an idealist. There is no way to tell, for we know next to nothing about him. Perhaps we'll learn more as he makes further public appearances."

Hachiman shook his head softly, gaze still firmly fixed on his reflection. "Would you blame him if he didn't? If he was never seen again?"

"I couldn't," Yukinoshita admitted immediately. "Asking an individual with no obligation to constantly expose themselves to danger is not something that could be done in good faith. If I were in his situation, I don't know if I could act as bravely as he already has."

"Bravery? Or recklessness?" Hachiman countered.

"I'm aware such actions are inconceivable to someone as rotten as you," Yukino sniped, a faintly cheeky grin on her lips, "but they're admirable to most." Hachiman snorted and curled the edge of his mouth up a little more.

"Anyways, Yukinon," Yui interjected, "if you had powers, what would you do with them? There's hardly anything I could think of, other than becoming a superhero..."

Yukinoshita cupped her chin between her fingers. "I wouldn't want to be forced into a career in law enforcement...and I wouldn't want to become a vigilante, either. I'd probably keep it a secret and move on with my life."

"Really? I don't think I could pretend things were normal. What about you, Hikki?"

That hits a bit too close to home, Yuigahama.

"...Show biz, perhaps?" Hachiman shrugged.

"Eh? Like in movies, Hikki?" Yui's eyes widened with disbelief. "That's the last thing I'd imagine you working in!"

"I could make a lot of money as the world's greatest stuntman," Hachiman said, setting his now-empty cup aside. "Then it'd be easy to retire into the life of a house-husband."

Yui sighed. "There you go again..."

Hachiman shifted in his seat and dug into his bag, producing the thick tome Tobe had tossed him earlier.

Yui tilted her head in puzzlement, eyes fixed on the book's cover. "Um, Hikki? ...Didn't you just say you didn't know what to make of Spider-Man?"

"Doesn't mean I'm not interested," Hachiman said as he flipped the pages and begun reading. Soon after, silence settled in the clubroom, betrayed only by the clacking of keys under Yukino's fingers. She gazed at her laptop wearing a pair of yellow-tinted glasses that blocked blue light; a recent birthday present from Hachiman himself.

Eventually, Yui placed her smartphone down and scooted her chair next to Hachiman's. Leaning closer, she peered over his shoulder. "Hey, is it good?" she asked.

"It's educational," Hachiman answered.

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, show business might not be the best idea for a Spider-Man," he pointed at one of the panels on the page. "Look, his secret identity keeps him from cashing in his checks. I might have to reconsider my answer."

"You're really putting a lot of thought into this, huh..." Yui said, leaning a bit closer still.

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes, the redhead looming over his shoulder all the while. Made somewhat uncomfortable by the borderline invasion of his personal space for an extended period, Hachiman placed his reading material on the table and stood up from his seat. "I'll be right back," he mumbled as he made his way towards the door. Sliding it open, he came face to face with an unexpected obstacle in the form of one Hayama Hayato.

"Ah," the blond youth on the other side of the threshold seemed startled, frowning for a blink before switching to an unreadable expression.

Hachiman's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" he uttered, not exactly polite, not altogether hostile.

Hayama shook his head and broke into one of his winning (fake) smiles. "...It's nothing. I was just passing by."

Hachiman wouldn't buy that for a second, but didn't really care for what he wanted or his reason for making up excuses. Complicated was his relationship to Hayama Hayato, the popular youth so irreconcilably different from himself in the surface, yet so similar past the mask of social graces.

"Excuse me, then," Hachiman said, stepping out and walking towards the bathroom. He could feel Hayama's gaze lingering on his back, before the other male went his own way down the opposite direction.

---

"Yes, I'm aware Six has to know I'm involved. How couldn't she?" Echo spoke into his cell phone, spinning a precision screwdriver around his right thumb as he did. "She has to know I've been calling in favors with the rest of the team, too. Listen, you let me handle the boss. I'll talk to her later. For now, I want to make sure the kid has the tools he needs if, when he goes out next."

He stared down at the desk he'd appropriated for most of his mechanical work. The owner of his temporary residence would probably not be too happy to know what he'd been doing within the confines of the rental apartment, but he'd been careful enough to at least protect the wood with a large sheet of styrofoam covered by a thick canvas tarp. Last thing he would want is having to pay for damaged furniture; his bank account had already been pummeled badly enough.

He listened to the woman on the other end of the line while he studied the circuits lining one of the lenses he'd been working on. There was some wire soldering in the near future.

"I know he will. He's a good kid, he just doesn't know it yet."

He chuckled at her response. Of course he wouldn't be working this hard if he wasn't convinced it would prove fruitful. Money was one thing, but his precious vacation time? Now that was worth its weight in gold.

Besides, the child in him was rather excited at the prospect helping the world's first super-powered hero get started. Spider-Man, no less! He'd been a fan of the Japanese live-action series as a little boy.

"Anyways, how's the Protector coming along? ...It's just missing that? Whoa, those two sure work fast. Can't wait to see some photos. So I guess all that's missing is for me to finish up the Eyes and Chelicerae, check if graphene does the trick, and we're done. Well, aside from the chemical analysis of whatever the web cartridges are filled with."

He eyed a cylindrical container, about an inch and a half in length and a little over a quarter inch wide. He wasn't a chemist, and so his attempt at replicating web fluid had been...mostly misguided.

A notification ding rang over his friend's voice. The temporary cameras he'd discretely set up must've detected movement. "That has to be them. I'll call you back, Grace. Later." He terminated the call and quickly stowed away the components for his little side project littering the desk. He wanted to keep it a surprise for now.

Halfway through picking up pieces and parts, the doorbell predictably rang. "Coming!" he yelled at the door while he finished storing the last few items in a box he quickly stowed in a closet, behind a futon. Echo shuffled towards the entrance, turning the handle downwards and pulling the door inwards. Outside, sure enough, were Hikigaya Hachiman and Kakeru Tobe.

"Hey!" Tobe saluted, grinning excitedly.

"Yo," Hachiman followed, with nowhere near the same level of enthusiasm.

The two boys stepped into the one-room apartment, which was thankfully spacious enough to accommodate all three of them without any issue. Wordlessly, Echo beelined back to the desk, crouched, and retrieved a pair of sport shoes that had been lying underneath it.

"Here, try these on," Echo handed the footwear to Hachiman, who stared at the articles puzzled.

"...What's this?" the young man asked.

"I want to test a theory. These might let you stick to surfaces," Echo said.

Hachiman shrugged and took the sneakers, deciding to comply with the policeman's implied request. He slid them onto his feet and tied the laces tight.

"Okay, then," he said, and then he sprung. His body clung perpendicular to the ceiling, all four of his extremities making contact with the surface. He inhaled deeply before pulling one hand away, then the next. He didn't fall.

"Huh."

He placed his heels on the roof and stretched erect. It was working; he was standing upside-down, defying gravity as easily as breathing.

"What are these?" Hachiman asked, curiosity piqued.

"Graphene soles. The future of footwear, y'know. Extremely durable, resistant, and most importantly, its molecules are arranged like a hexagonal lattice. I theorize your clinging ability might be related to van der Waals forces or something similar, and hoped the properties of graphene would not impede your power."

"…You lost me," Hachiman admitted as he flipped back onto the floor, "but alright."

This visit hadn't been a waste, even if he had no intentions of playing the role of Spider-Man again. If anything, he now understood his capabilities a little better - and that could help him conceal them from here on out.

"Hey, I'm a roboticist, not a physicist or a biologist. For all I know, I just spouted a bunch of bad science and we just got lucky graphene works. Keep those, by the way. Graphene shoes aren't readily available in the marketplace and I had to call in some favors to get these."

"Uh, thanks?" Hachiman said. He'd never been too picky when it came to footwear, and you couldn't beat free.

"So Spidey's got some running shoes," Tobe added, clapping his hands together. "What about extra web fluid?"

"Err, about that..." Echo scratched at his cheek. "No luck with replicating the formula. Hey, don't look at me like that, Hachiman - I told you I'm a roboticist. But!" he wagged his index finger, ambling towards his desk. "I ended up making something pretty interesting by accident."

He picked up a red cartridge the corner of the table. "Since I couldn't replicate the formula from scratch, I tried to instead take some small samples and add different compounds, see if that gave me some clue as to how to advance. Bad news is, it didn't, but good news is I ended up developing this by accident instead. It contains a concoction that after passing through the mechanisms of your web shooter, ends up expanding into this flame-retardant, foamy goop."

"So, similar to a fire extinguisher?" Tobe asked.

"There's a vital difference, though. You know how extinguishers are meant for specific types of fires? Like how water extinguishers are good for combustible materials like wood, and carbon dioxide extinguishers work on flammable liquids and electronic equipment?"

"Yeah, I'm aware," Hachiman said. Tobe nodded indecisively, maybe just wanting to pretend he already knew that.

"I've been doing some controlled experiments," Echo continued, "and this works to put out any type I pit it against."

"That's nice," Hachiman said, not particularly interested.

Tobe grinned, sensing Hachiman's indifference, and nudged the other high schooler with his elbow. "What you really want more web fluid, huh? You really enjoyed web-swinging, didn't you?"

Hachiman answered nothing, even if Tobe was correct. Despite his misgivings regarding the whole Spider-Man affair, it had been the aspect he'd enjoyed the most. The thrill building up in his chest as he flew free between buildings, letting go of his lifeline, creating another...no other experience could match it. Yet, if he were to indulge, that would mean being spotted in public. He knew he should, no, must push such desires out, no matter how tempting they may be.

"Hey, this could be a real game changer. This little cartridge holds five whole shots! With a larger cartridge alongside a simpler implementation of the moving parts within your web shooter, imagine the utility it could have for firefighters and rescue personnel!"

Hachiman flashed a sly, sharp sneer. "...You're going to try and make a lot of money out of patenting this, aren't you?"

"Oh, you bet."

---

As more days went by, Chiba's normalcy continued to return, little by little. Its wounds slowly, but surely, had begun to heal, but any laceration deep enough must leave a scar.

Hachiman wondered where his had gone.

His bruises and wounds had left no trace of ever being present.

He inspected his bare chest in front of the bathroom mirror. No hints of bruising anywhere, despite the extent of his previous injuries.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he finished drying his wet hair and tossed the towel onto a nearby chair. It landed on the backrest and draped over it like a fitted sheet. He then quickly donned the bottoms to his sleepwear, leaving his upper body undressed as he laid down on his bed.

He'd been seriously injured once before, back when he saved Yui's dog from being run over. The damage he'd incurred then was nothing compared to what he'd endured almost two weeks ago, yet the former incident had kept him in the hospital recuperating for almost a month.

In contrast, it only took a handful of days for his combat lesions to heal.

They'd looked way worse than they'd felt, too.

It must be another one of my powers. The original Spider-Man has superhuman endurance coupled with a healing factor. I must have those, too.

The comfort of his pillow-top mattress threatened to swallow him whole. It was still too early to sleep, though.

He rolled onto his belly and pulled his schoolbag from underneath the bed. Undoing the zipper, he caught a glimpse of a plastic bag. Tucked inside it was a tattered hoodie, given to him by the grateful captives he'd liberated during his first fit of temporary madness. Alongside it, the balaclava mask, goggles and gloves he'd been equipped with during that fateful day. He'd been keeping them handy at all times.

As he peered over the items, he tried to come up with a convincing excuse as to why, but came up short. He had no intentions of slinging again, so he really had no reason to keep those around, right? If anything, it was slightly risky. While he doubted anybody would ever rummage through his personal belongings, the possibility wasn't nonexistent. Despite his desire to have them stowed away somewhere, preferably under lock and key, he found himself hesitant to do so.

And then, there was a low buzz in the deepest depths of his cognition.

That couldn't be his Spider Sense, could it? Here, in the safety of his bedroom, of all places?

It was low and dull, almost imperceptibly so. He kept himself from making any sudden movements, instead scanning his surroundings by darting his eyes around his vicinity, finally fixing them on his door. Was Komachi planning on barging in unannounced? He hadn't forgotten to lock it, had he?

As he shifted his body and set a bare foot on the floor, the sensation that had abruptly manifested vanished just as suddenly. Not missing a beat, he strode towards his bedroom door and twisted the knob.

Locked. What was that all about?

He undid the latch and opened, sticking his head past the jamb. No Komachi in sight; not on either end of the corridor.

Puzzling as it had been, the sensation was gone now. He pushed the strange experience out of mind as he closed the door, making his way for bed. He crouched next to his bag and retrieved what he'd been searching for in the first place – that thick book lent to him by Tobe, containing Spider-Man's debut adventures.

Flicking the lamp on the nightstand on, he relaxed his back against a pillow and continued reading where he'd left off.

Peter Parker, the Spider-Man from the comics – as he became enthralled by artwork and writing from bygone days, Hachiman began to see more and more similarities between himself and the character. His difficulties with the sciences aside, Hikigaya Hachiman was a smart loner with the proportional strength and speed of a spider, like Peter. He understood the care Peter had to take to not overextend and reveal his other identity. Peter's standoffish personality and sarcastic manner was a surprise; he'd expected someone mellower and far more sociable. His depiction in the movies and cartoons was extremely different, to say the least.

If they'd told him a character like Peter Parker would resonate with him so much, he would've called them crazy, but here he was, right at his inception, experiencing exactly that.

Then, there was the thing Hachiman kept dwelling on.

Peter Parker's reason for being Spider-Man.

He'd been leaving a TV Studio after putting on a little show that wowed spectators. Spider-Man was well on his way to becoming a star. As he headed for the exit, a police officer chasing a burglar yelled a plea to slow down his quarry.

The robber ran right past him. Peter elected to do nothing, and the crook commandeered an elevator to safety.

"What's with you, mister?!" the officer reprimanded. "All you hadda do was trip him, or hold him just for a minute!"

The young man delivered a hostile reply.

"Sorry, pal! That's your job! I'm through being pushed around – by anyone! From now on I just look out for number one – that means – me!"

That was a decision he'd come to regret.

Days later, that same burglar broke into the Parker household. That same burglar shot and killed Benjamin Parker, Peter's Uncle Ben. He'd been the closest thing Peter had ever known to a father, and had he acted earlier...

"My fault. All my fault! If only I had stopped him when I could have! But I didn't, and now, Uncle Ben is dead…"

That was the true birth of the Amazing Spider-Man. He was spurred by grief, regret, and a budding sense of responsibility to use his powers for something greater. To be greater.

Of course, Hachiman was already acquainted with the gist of that story. It had been retold many, many times before and through every medium imaginable. Yet, having come to know this Peter Parker, alongside his new condition, led him to contemplate further.

If something were to happen to Komachi because I chose to stand idly by, could I ever forgive myself?

It was an intrusive, tormenting thought that overstayed its welcome. However, his musings were thankfully broken by a chime from his smartphone. He reached over to the device and checked his messaging app.

It was a text from Echo: 'There's something I want to show you. Could you drop by tomorrow after school?'

'Have nothing better to do,' Hachiman typed back.

'Great, see you tomorrow then.'

He set his phone aside again, reading a few more issues before turning in for the night. As the hours passed, his body stirred and sweat coursed from his temple, his sleeping form becoming more and more and more agitated…

---

The door to the Service Club slid open.

Those within the room turned towards the sudden intruder: one ever-popular Miura Yumiko.

"Yumiko? Yahallo!" Yui called. She was good friends with the olive-eyed blonde; a member of her and Hayama's clique, even.

Yumiko gave her a small wave as she stepped in and closed behind her. "Hello."

"Miura, please make sure to knock next time," Yukino rebuked, unannounced guests always a pet peeve of hers. Miura puffed and rolled her eyes.

Her arrival wasn't too surprising. It had slipped Hachiman's mind with all the things that had been happening recently, but she had made a request of the Service Club; one the male volunteer had been looking into personally.

"Hikio," as if on cue, Yumiko stepped towards him. The air around her was stifling, and Hachiman didn't know if it was her perfume or just her intimidatingly imposing presence. Probably the latter.

"About your request, right?" Might as well cut to the chase. "We haven't forgotten about it."

Maybe he had, but she didn't need to know that.

Before the world had gone insane, she'd petitioned them to determine which career path Hayama Hayato would follow: liberal arts or sciences. More than anything, she had tearfully declared, she wanted to know the answer. She wanted to feel close to Hayato…her feelings for him were obvious to anyone and everyone.

And, Hachiman knew, Hayato callously used those feelings to his advantage. Having her close by in order to keep other girls from confessing to him…

Yumiko shook her head and stared off to the side, fiddling with one of her long curls. She looked almost bashful, but Hachiman knew better. "It's not that. I…I wanted to ask for another favor."

Her demeanor made some semblance of sense now. "Go ahead."

"It's about Yamato."

But of course.

The days go by, and there's still no word from the tall, burly boy.

"You want me to check up on him." It wasn't a question. The girl nodded, avoiding seeing eye to eye with him. Hachiman turned to meet Yukino's gaze, and the girl gave a nod as well.

"I'll do it," he answered matter-of-factly, having received the blessing from the Service Club president.

"Thanks," Miura muttered half-heartedly. "About that other thing…"

She was interrupted, however, by a set of knocks. Someone else was about to step in.

It just had to be Hayama Hayato.

"Here you are, Yumiko," he addressed. "I've been looking for you. Can I talk to you about something outside?"

"Ah. Okay," she leveled one intense glance towards Hachiman as she made to leave. It was harshly imperative, but also a little pleading.

Before long, the Service Club trio no longer had a client to tend to.

"Say, Yukinon," Yui began, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Oh…? No, not really. There was something, but I elected not to attend."

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like to stop by this place?" she pulled out a flyer and handed it to Yukino. "Seems to be pretty new."

She took one glance at the paper before immediately responding. "Yes. I'd be delighted. In fact, let us depart at once."

"What's that?" Hachiman asked. Enthusiasm so evident from the frosty Yukinoshita Yukino was a rare sight indeed.

Yui leaned in closer, grinning. "A cat café."

Somehow, I'm not surprised in the slightest.

"Hikki, want to come with us?" Yuigahama added.

"Sorry;" Hachiman said, rising from his chair. "There's somewhere I need to go. I should get going, too. See you both tomorrow."

"See you, Hikki!"

"What a shame. Good-bye, Hikigaya."

Departing from the clubroom, he made his way outside towards the school gates. It was hard to believe this place was host to a shootout just a couple of weeks ago – not that the rest of the student body knew about it. It was easy to cover up; any damage to the facilities could be brushed away as incurred during the Siege of Chiba.

There had to be some relation between both events, Hachiman knew, but he'd leave that for law enforcement to deal with. It wasn't his job.

A little later, he met up with Tobe, fresh out of soccer practice, by the gates. Both young men departed together, pep in Tobe's every step.

---

Once again, they stood outside Echo's rented apartment. Whatever it was he summoned them for, Tobe looked absolutely stoked. Did he know something Hachiman didn't? Well, not like it mattered, as seconds later Echo swung the entrance open and ushered them inside, taking their schoolbags and setting them aside.

What they saw inside made Tobe grin like a maniac, but forced Hachiman to frown deeply.

There was a humanoid figure standing on the middle of the room, covered from head to toe in a skintight suit. The front of the torso and head was mostly red, decorated with that familiar black cobweb pattern. Emblazoned on the back, a large blue spider extended its legs as if embracing, wrapping around towards the front. A pair of the legs ended just under the clavicles; another pair traced the deltoids and extended until about one-third of the pectorals, their tips then angling back at about forty-five degrees. Said tips ended where they made contact with yet another pair of legs, these instead traveling downwards near the sides of the abdomen and reaching a blue portion that went around the waist as if it were a belt.

The other portions of the suit, outside the perimeter created by the involvement of arachnid limbs, were mostly black, with small exceptions at the end of the limbs. There were some light gray accents, the most prominent on the back of the hand but there were other similar stylings present between the fingers as well. The index and pinky became red just a little past the first knuckle, with the thumb being mostly the same color as the former two appendages. These three fingers were surrounded by ring-shaped black outlines, continuing with the cobweb motif. Just above the hand, sitting on the wrist, were the web shooters, now painted in blue not only to match the spider on the back, but the soles at the suit's feet as well.

The red full-face mask was immediately recognizable. Two large, white, almond-shaped lenses that couldn't be seen into were outlined by thick black frames, with a cobweb pattern extending outwards from between the eyepieces. There were some new additions as well, in the form of two blue pieces of plastic-like material starting under where the ears would be, delineating the jawline and coming to an end near the chin.

The last thing Hachiman appraised was the small black spider emblem resting between the pectorals. His frown grew deeper.

"So, what do you think?" Echo gestured to the mannequin with his thumb. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"It's the greatest!" Tobe exploded in glee. "Man, Hach, with that, you'll really be the Spider-Man!"

"…Stop this. Stop messing around."

Hachiman's glared icily at Echo, who appeared unfazed under the glacial scrutiny.

"Whatever do you mean?" the older man asked, despite very well knowing where that had to be going.

"Just stop. Stop trying to force me into playing the role of Spider-Man again."

"…I'm not going to force you, Hachiman," Echo answered. "This here is just in case you ever decide you want to use it, that's all."

"We both know that's not how it goes," Hachiman snarled. "You wouldn't put that much work unless you were sure it'd pay off."

"Think you got me all figured out?"

"I know the type," Hachiman spat.

Echo shrugged, unperturbed. "So do I."

"Screw you. I'm out of here."

He turned his back to them and stomped away, furious.

Tobe tried to reach out, wanting to say something, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looked to his left and witnessed the older man shaking his head. With words unsaid, Echo communicated to let him go.

---

Still irritated, he ambled aimlessly through the streets of Chiba. He didn't feel like heading back home. Not yet. His head was still swimming with a combination of rage, doubt, confusion, apprehension and indecision.

His roaming led him to pass by a kids' playground. Not seeing anybody in, he chose to rest a while despite a lack of physical exertion. He made his way to one of the swing sets, plopping down on the polished wooden plank held up by sturdy chains.

His seat swayed as dusk painted the city in an ethereal orange glow. His thoughts wandered far more than his legs just had.

He didn't want to become Spider-Man because someone told him to, or to meet the expectations of another.

He didn't want to live with regrets, either.

More than anything, he didn't want to die. He was terrified of his own mortality. The thought that he'd one day return to nothing, unable to think or feel or even exist…why would he want to rush into that?

…but there were other things that frightened him just as much.

As far as he knew, he might be the only other person in the world with powers. Not making something with that potential would be a waste, too. This was an opportunity never before offered to anyone else.

Yet why would he risk his life? People rarely accepted him; in fact, only a handful of individuals treated Hikigaya Hachiman with the dignity a human being deserved.

…and for that handful, what would he do? What would he be willing to put on the line?

Try as he might, he couldn't come up with a concrete answer. Or was it that he didn't want to come up with one?

He'd thought his life was turning complicated before the spider bite. In truth, he had no idea how complicated it could get.

He knew there'd be no coming back when he accepted the gift offered to him back in the department store. Was he just running away now? Or had he been wrong then, and he could seize back at least a semblance of his previous life?

Maybe those had been all the wrong questions. Is this something he really should be evaluating in terms of pros and cons, risks and rewards?

Maybe what I really should dwell on is this: do I want to be Spider-Man?

His older self would have quickly answered a negative, but now that he'd experienced what he had, he wasn't so sure.

Try as he might to seal it away, there was an underlying sense of triumph at achieving what he had that day.

Once again, Hachiman, remember you're drunk. Drunk with power and exhilaration and a misbegotten sense of self-importance. The world will be fine without Spider-Man. It's kept going all this time without a real one. It doesn't need him.

He kept swaying absentmindedly, lost in the chirping of the swing's chains.

The reverie was eventually broken as he noticed a trio of children surrounding a smaller one. So enraptured had he been by his own thoughts, he hadn't realized he was no longer alone in the park.

But then, he realized the other children were not being the least bit friendly towards the singled out boy.

Hachiman debated whether to intervene or stay put. Would his meddling truly help the boy? Or would it make the situation worse, and future bullying would be far more severe? As he weighed his options, he saw something else – the back of another boy, one whose eyes had not yet become rotten. He was being mocked and called all sorts of demeaning names. Despite the sadness, and despite the loneliness, the boy did not cry, but instead grinned and endured the cruel treatment thrust upon him.

Maybe if he grinned hard enough, maybe if he pretended not to be hurt…they'd accept him.

A high-pitched voice called out from the entrance to the playpark, bringing Hachiman back down from his journey through bitter memories. "Hey! That's enough!"

A young girl with shoulder-length hair marched determined towards where the boys were grouped up. She wore a red hoodie with long blue sleeves maybe one or two sizes too big, sporting that ever so recognizable webbing design.

She stood before the tormented boy, stretching her arms to her sides in a declaration of protection. Hachiman couldn't hear what the children were saying, and he stood up, his body shuffling closer to the group almost involuntarily.

His presence, in the end, wasn't needed – whatever the girl said deterred the other children from continuing with their harassment, and they were gone by the time Hachiman reached the remaining two. Noticing his arrival, they gazed up expectantly at him, an adult in their eyes.

He quickly thought of something, anything, to say. "Good work helping him out."

The girl beamed brightly. "Thank you, mister! I did what Spider-Man would do!"

"Mari, you really like him, don't you?" the rescued boy asked.

"I love Spider-Man!" the girl declared proudly.

Hachiman's lip twisted up ever so slightly as his older brother instincts kicked in, spurring him into asking "Really? Why's that?"

"Because without Spider-Man, daddy wouldn't be here anymore!"

His face fell in shock and his eyes widened as the words struck him like a punch to the gut. He stifled a small gasp, and tried to force his facial muscles into a gentle expression, or whatever he could pass as one. "I-is that so?"

"Yup! Daddy said Spider-Man saved him!"

He couldn't have known, but Hachiman's expression wouldn't simply pass for gentle. It very much was.

"Do you… want to see him? See Spider-Man again?" he asked softly. The girl nodded energetically with a toothy, innocent smile.

"I'll…I'll make sure to let him know," he said lowly. "...Don't stay out until too late, you two. I'll be near if you need help from someone older."

He left the two kids to play, heading back to the swing set with slow, deliberate steps.

…The world has been 'fine' without a Spider-Man.

That same cruel, unforgiving world where people trample over people. Humans maim, kill, lie, deceive and steal. Spider-Man alone won't fix that.

But…

This power I've been given made sure a father could reunite with his daughter.

Perhaps that's enough.

Perhaps that's all I need.

---

Yumiko was on cloud nine.

This had to be what perfect happiness felt like.

Her arms were linked around Hayato's right as they strode out of the spacious elevator.

Granted, his invitation had been rather sudden, and preparing so quickly for such a fancy occasion had been challenging, but it was worth it! After all, she was Hayato's date for this fundraiser!

It had something to do with pooling financial resources to assist with the reconstruction of buildings and other facilities damaged during the attack a few weeks back. Quite frankly, she couldn't pay much attention when Hayato begun to explain, far too overwhelmed with joy to process what he'd said.

It was in the Prism Tower, no less! The new crowning jewel of the Chiba City skyline hadn't even been inaugurated yet – this event would double as its debut.

Her pumps clacked along the immaculate marble floor, following the pace set forth by her companion. She felt gorgeous in her evening gown, a burgundy silken ensemble she'd worked very hard to afford and hadn't had chance to wear until now.

Ah, this had to be a dream…

So taken was she by her current situation, she failed to notice the slightly sullen expression on Hayato's face or his forlorn eyes. She didn't pay any mind to the attendant pushing a service cart towards the elevators, either.

When they stepped into the venue proper, she released an awed gasp. At the other end of the tremendous hall was a gigantic window, covering the entire area where a wall should've bene. Even from all the way back, she could appreciate a magnificent view of nighttime Chiba.

This place was so romantic…

If only it wasn't so packed! There had to be at least a hundred guests already, if not more. She'd give anything to spend some time alone with Hayato in such an extravagant paradise.

Then again, it would be the ideal place for a wedding reception. Oh! Her heart fluttered at the mere thought!

"My, if it isn't Hayato!" a sweet voice wafted towards them as a woman with shoulder-length black hair and irises a striking violet gracefully strode towards them, cerulean satin trailing in her wake. Yumiko wouldn't recognize her, but couldn't shake the feeling she'd seen her before.

"…So, this must be Yumiko," the other woman held her chin between her fingers. Her gaze danced over Yumiko, appraising her from head to toe. "My, she's lovely. That's too bad for other young girls in attendance who might've wanted to get to know you better. Isn't that right, Hayato?"

That had been a compliment, hadn't it? If so, why didn't it feel like one?

This time, she did notice Hayato's stony expression. "Haruno, please."

The woman, Haruno, giggled. "I'm just teasing you, Hayato. Oh, but where are my manners? I'm Yukinoshita Haruno. Hayato has told me so much about you!"

This must be Yukinoshita Yukino's elder sister…

"Pleased to meet you," Yumiko said with a curt nod, taking care not to show any of her newfound unease.

Come to think of it, she'd seen Yukinoshita Haruno once before: on stage during Sobu's School Festival concert. She hadn't made the connection then, but both Yukinoshita girls resembled each other, at least physically.

Haruno's poise was completely different from the icy manner of Yukinoshita Yukino. She was bubbly, friendly and exuberant. But then, why were alarm bells going off in Yumiko's head?

Did she feel threatened, and feared this woman would steal Hayato away? No, not quite. Somehow, while she'd gotten the impression such could be the case with Yukino, this was different. But how? Why was this woman making her so nervous?

She was probably overthinking things. Her bizarre anxiety was likely the product of Hayato's mysterious ties to the Yukinoshita family, something she'd eagerly wanted to understand better. And, Yumiko realized, this was an opportunity to learn a little more about that nebulous relationship.

"Say, how do you two know each other?" Yumiko asked, point blank. She could feel Hayato's arm stiffen under her gentle grip.

Haruno grinned sweetly, as if recalling precious memories. There was a twinkle of something else in her eyes, however. Was it… amusement?

"Our families have been good friends for as long as we can remember. I used to take care of Hayato and Yuki – my sister – back when they were little."

That neatly explained a lot of things. Hayama Hayato and Yukinoshita Yukino knew each other since they were children. It wouldn't be strange for Hayato and Yukino to meet for the holidays under familial circumstances and be misinterpreted by unscrupulous onlookers. She'd already believed Yui when she'd sworn there was nothing between those two, and that those rumors were unfounded, but Haruno's account gave her the context she craved.

Even so, this information was completely innocuous. Why was Hayato so tense?

"You could say Hayato is practically a little brother of mine," Haruno continued.

"I'm not sure I'd go so far, Haruno," Hayato smiled sheepishly, and, Yumiko assumed, forcibly.

"No need to be so modest. You're practically part of the family!"

This woman, Yukinoshita Haruno…there was more than met the eye with her, Yumiko was sure. It was the only explanation for Hayato's current behavior. The way Haruno delivered that comment, how she locked eyes with her, made Yumiko conclude she just attempted to provoke her. Was this for her own entertainment? Or did she have an ulterior motive?

A blaze sparked and raged within Yumiko. How dare she make Hayato uncomfortable and tarnish their perfect, idyllic dream?

"Ah, that's wonderful," Yumiko instead chose to lace her words with dripping honey. It was time to play the ditzy blonde and pretend she didn't notice a thing. Even if she wanted to tear the woman to pieces, this was neither the time nor the place for a scene. "So, Miss Haruno, is your sister present? I would like to greet her."

"Oh, you know Yukino? Unfortunately, she won't be with us tonight. It's a shame, too, that she's going to miss an event father put so much effort into hosting."

Wait, the Yukinoshitas were the ones holding the event? She kicked herself mentally for not listening more attentively to Hayato's explanation.

Another woman approached their group. Yumiko couldn't tell who it was at first, what with her lacking her trademark braids or hair clips, but as she drew closer, she could put a name on her.

"Hello!" the woman cheerily waved.

"Shiromeguri Meguri! It's so nice to see you! What brings you here?" Hayato exclaimed, finding his chance to steer the subject away from him.

"I came as Haruno's plus-one!" Meguri happily chirped with a truthful smile. "I couldn't resist seeing Prism Tower from the inside on its first night."

"Father's most ambitious construction project to date," Haruno added. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"The view is breathtaking," Meguri said, clasping her hands together. "Hey, did you know? With fifty-five floors, Prism Tower is the tallest building in Chiba!"

"That's really something. Taller than the Makuhari Prince…" Hayato commented, not entirely invested in the current conversation.

"If you'll excuse me, I must continue greeting the new arrivals. Host duties and whatnot," Haruno said. "Megu, why don't you lead them to our table?"

With that, Haruno slinked away and into the crowd. Yumiko could feel Hayato's shoulders loosen.

"Is she always like this?" Yumiko leaned in and whispered, causing Hayato's eyes to widen.

"Y-you noticed?" he stammered in as low a volume.

"It would be hard not to, with how you reacted to her every word."

She might not be the most perceptive person out there, but she'd known Hayama Hayato long enough to notice odd shifts in his behavior.

"Oh," he shook his head. "No, not normally. Not towards me, at least."

Which could only mean such acts usually spared Hayato, but not others…and she could only surmise one other possible candidate.

For the first time in her life, Miura Yumiko was awash with sympathy for Yukinoshita Yukino. This woman could only be described as "dangerous", and she didn't want to imagine what it would be like to grow up under such influence.

In retrospect, Yukino's blunt aloofness started making a lot of sense.

Led to a large round table on the middle of the hall by Meguri, Yumiko and Hayato took their respective seats.

"Say, Shiromeguri," Yumiko began, "Is Miss Yukinoshita is a Sobu alumnus? What's the story between you two?"

"Yes, she was my senior. I looked up to her," Meguri answered, then took a sip of water from a goblet. "I still do."

Yumiko wondered if Haruno's unpleasant side went over Shiromeguri's head. If there was one thing Yumiko could be certain of, it was that the former Student Council president was undisputably a friendly, caring person. To be fair, she would have missed it too, had Hayato not involuntarily clued her.

They made some small talk about Shiromeguri's future plans now that she was preparing for college. Despite the course the discussion was taking, Hayato never interjected with any remarks that could give them an inkling regarding his chosen future career path. Only vague assertions like "I'm still considering," here, or "I'm weighing my options" there.

Eventually, Hayato reached into his suit jacket, retrieving a vibrating cell phone. "Excuse me for a minute, I have to take this," he muttered, rising. Before either of the girls could get a word in, he was already pacing towards the exit, holding the device next to his ear.

Just then, the melodious sound of tinkling crystal made the girls turn their heads towards its source. A regal man in an exquisitely-tailored tuxedo held an empty wine glass on one hand and a dessert spoon on the other. He gently struck the glass a few more times with the underside of the spoon, calling for the attention of everyone present. Setting down the items, he retrieved a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming," the man spoke, his voice reverberating throughout the hall. "I am humbled. Truly, I cannot thank you enough."

There was some applause, and as it subsided, the man continued. "Dear guests, I love Chiba, and I'm certain I'm not alone in that sentiment. Some of us grew here, and some of us are seeing our children grow here. Chiba City is special and precious for manifold reasons. As such, I'm also certain I'm not alone in experiencing great sorrow at the tragedy it recently experienced."

Solemn silence settled onto the hall for a few moments before the man resumed.

"Many brave men and women put their lives on the line to protect our beautiful city. Several paid dearly, and some even paid the ultimate price. The prevalent impression among the populace is that the aftereffects of the incident were mostly mitigated. While that may be indeed true, let us not forget it's the result of very real human sacrifice."

A poignant quiet followed once more. And once again, the man recommenced.

"It is for that very reason I want to do my part for our beloved city, and I invite you to join me in doing the same. We're establishing The Friendly Neighbor Foundation, with the objective of aiding with the recovery and medical expenses of the servicemen wounded protecting our city. Additionally, with cooperation from my construction company, the Foundation will assist with several infrastructure repair and renovation projects following the attack."

Another round of applause erupted, and the man, most certainly Mr. Yukinoshita, raised a different piece of stemware. His flute glass was filled with sparkling, bubbling champagne.

"A toast," Mr. Yukinoshita declared, beverage held high. "for our darling Chiba."

And then,

Yumiko heard it.

A sound like distant thunder.

And then,

Yumiko saw it,

quick flashes of blinding white.

— And then,

Yumiko felt it.

Unbearable, scorching heat.

Her body being knocked back…

---

The children departing for their homes left Hachiman with no excuse to linger in the playground. Night had settled in quite a while ago, and he knew he had to head back to Echo's sooner or later. If only he hadn't left his bag there...

Hachiman wandered back through the streets of Chiba, the way he'd come by earlier. His temper long since subsided, he briefly dwelt on what to say when he got there, before he reminded himself he didn't actually care.

Deep in his thoughts, he almost missed when people stopped in their tracks and pointed at something in the distance while uttering alarmed words.

Yet, he certainly couldn't ignore the howling of sirens and the fire engines whooshing past.

Tracing the indication a myriad fingers, Hachiman spun to witness it:

A spire of crystal and glass,

Overlooking Chiba like a giant,

Exhaling fire and fumes like a dragon.

"The hell…?"

He retrieved his smartphone and opened a news app, scanning the contents of the breaking story.

Keywords caught his eye.

"Prism Tower".

"Multiple Fires".

"Inauguration".

"Fundraising Event".

But there was one set that made his blood curl.

"Representative Yukinoshita."

Before he could even think, he was already running.

---

A characteristic 'ting!' rang from Echo's phone; a special sound alert that notified him of breaking news in his area;an useful feature to have in his line of work. Immediately, he reached for the remote control and flicked the television on.

"…ause for the multiple fires in Prism Tower is, as of yet, undetermined. There has been no word from authorities regarding the status of the guests present in the fundraising event being held in the fifty-first floor of the building."

Images of burning devastation were displayed on the television set. Tobe, who had occupied himself reading comics until then, tore his gaze from his magazine.

"W-what's going on?" he asked, trying to make sense of the report.

Echo said nothing, instead stepping towards the corner he'd relocated the mannequin to. He removed the mask from the fake head, setting it gently next to the TV.

"Echo, what are you doing?"

He was answered with a command. "Tobe, fetch eight red cartridges. They're in a box inside the closet."

The boy blinked, baffled at first. But then, he realized what the man had meant, and thus obediently shuffled to comply.

"Also fetch the suitcase next to the box. That is my present to you, Tobe."

It wasn't long before the front door burst open, suddenly and loudly. Echo didn't care a smug grin came over his features, plain for the new arrival to see.

A figure enshrouded in the shadows of the unlit entrance hall spoke, determined and grim.

"I need the suit."

---

When Yumiko came to, her addled mind could only determine two things. One, it was unbearably hot and stuffy. Two, it was very, very hard to breathe.

As she picked herself up, she coughed and hacked unladylike. Her lungs felt like they'd been filled with lead.

Suddenly, something wet and made of cloth pressed against her nose and mouth. It made breathing much, much easier.

Gazing at her side, she saw a kneeling Haruno bathed in an orange glow. She held a dinner napkin over her own face and had offered that same respite to the recently roused Yumiko.

The predatory, playful gleam in Haruno's eyes had been replaced entirely. Now, there was a dependable, concerned glint.

Yumiko took stock of her surroundings. Electrical power was completely gone, the room instead lit by sparse, flickering embers. Guests huddled together, some tending to the fallen, others evaluating exit strategies.

A group of men kept ramming the main doorway, to no avail. They couldn't get the double doors to budge even a little. An emergency exit was similarly jammed, with a man ferociously working the push bar. On the other end of the room, an attendant tried her best to work the side entrance, but the scalding handle kept her from making much progress.

Spotting her purse nearby, Yumiko reached for it and dug for her smartphone within. Intent on calling one-one-nine, she stopped herself from dialing when she noticed Shiromeguri was already agitatedly reporting the situation into her own handset.

Plumes of billowing smoke were quickly filling the hall. Another crowd desperately struck at the gigantic window with chairs and other assorted objects, but failed to make a dent.

"It's useless," said Mr. Yukinoshita's shakily, lying next to his daughter, filtering cloth tied behind his head. "It's extremely strong glass, one step removed from being bulletproof. We implemented it as a safety measure, but now…" the despair in his voice was evident.

Safety measures…as Yumiko's mind cleared, a question came to the forefront. "What about…sprinklers?"

Mr. Yukinoshita shook his weary head, caked in his own blood. "They didn't go off…I don't know why."

Yumiko checked herself – her left arm was bloody and dirty, and her clothes were a mess, but the wounds she incurred were superficial at worst. Still, the uncertainty and peril surrounding them kept her from even the smallest relief.

The more she came back to her senses, the more anxious she felt. Was there any way to escape? Would their air run out? Or would the noxious fumes finish them off first? What happened to Hayato?

Was her only recourse praying for a miracle?

---

A lone silhouette darted past in-between the buildings of Chiba City.

If he wasn't so overtaken by urgency, a primal part of him would be relishing in the joy of web-swinging.

Purpose fueled his muscles, determination pumped his blood.

Spider-Man, Hikigaya Hachiman, had become the physical embodiment of a single thought.

A daughter won't lose her father tonight.

Like a shooting star, he tore through the sky; a blur of red and black barely noticeable against the backdrop of an inky firmament.

Elsewhere, Tobe begun to familiarize with the gift Echo had prepared for him. The screen of the portable terminal, embedded within a sturdy, angular briefcase displayed buildings swooshing by as Hachiman swung past them.

The Chelicera Camer worked perfectly, transmitting its live feed flawlessly despite the velocity of Spider-Man's displacement.

"Tobe, you have backdoor access to the city's construction records," Echo explained, pointing at an icon. "Download the blueprints for Prism Tower. The system will recreate a 3D image of the structure. You'll be using that to assist Hachiman as his Navigator."

The young man would've normally uttered some remark about how incredibly awesome the whole package was, but with the current emergency at hand, he found his focus was entirely on the mission.

He stared intently at the Prism Tower in his monitor stream, as if his glare could quell the fires of the blazing behemoth. Tiny specks of flashing red and blue on ground level confirmed that emergency services had already set up their perimeter and taking action.

Hachiman clung to the side of a nearby high-rise and ran up to its roof. Holding onto a safety railing, he sized up the fiery edifice he'd soon be breaching.

"Spider-Man, the party was being held at the fifty-first floor, Moonlight Hall. You're facing its direction right now," Tobe informed, studying the computer-generated model. "Fifty-five floors total."

"Got it," Spider-Man answered into his mask's wireless as he counted floors top to bottom. "I'm going to break through the window. Fastest way in."

"Wait," Echo said into his headset. "Glass shards might injure nearby civvies. You have to let them know you're coming in first."

Hachiman quirked an eyebrow. Strangely enough, he felt something gently shift on the corresponding lens as he did so. "Easier said than done."

"Easier done than said," Echo countered. "There's a button under your right Chelicera – err, those are the solid pieces resting on your jaw, by the way. Anyways, press it."

How could he send a warning to people so distant with the press of a button? With some curiosity, he complied with the instruction.

Once he did, he immediately understood.

---

A silver Audi aggressively skidded to a screeching halt, marking asphalt. Its sole occupant had no mind to concern herself with trivialities such as proper parking, grasping for a millimeters-thin rectangular object she'd haphazardly thrown into a cup holder earlier and promptly rushing out of the vehicle.

She pushed her way through a throng of awed onlookers, too preoccupied to care for good manners. Crouching her way past barricade tape, she searched around for someone, anyone, who could answer her hundred gnawing questions.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" A policeman said, quickly striding towards her.

The woman raised her secret weapon: the hospital badge she held in her hand. "It's okay! I'm a doctor! I'm here to help!"

Even if she hadn't possessed her I.D. card, the green scrubs and lab coat she wore already gave the impression that could have been the case.

"Are you with one of the emergency response teams? If not, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's okay, let her through," called out a fireman. "Saori, over here!"

Usually, stumbling upon an ex-boyfriend after a long time could prove awkward, but at that moment, Hayama Saori let out a sigh of relief and thanked the heavens for small favors.

Deferring to the judgment of a Fire Department Battalion Chief, the patrolman stepped aside and permitted her passage. Swiftly, she went on to meet the awaiting firefighter, who had just finished barking orders to the rescuers under his command.

"Masato," no time for pleasantries. "What's the situation?"

"Multiple fires confirmed throughout the upper levels. I was just about to head for the command point on the thirty-fourth when I saw you. Okay, now for a question from me – what's a plastic surgeon doing in the scene of an ongoing disaster?"

He just had to know why her eyes were bloodshot and her short form was quivering so much.

"It's Hayato," she answered. "He's inside."

"Wait, Hayato is…oh geez," Masato brought a hand to his head.

"I was on the phone with him when – when he let out this bloodcurdling scream! And then the call cut off. Masato, what if…what if my boy is…"

"I'm going to stop you right there. We'll get him out," he patted the inconsolable woman on the shoulder.

"Have you…gotten to the party floor yet?" she sniffed.

"Not yet. Designated elevators are not working, and auxiliary power's not starting up. Only way for us to get to them is on foot, and there's a lot of debris in the way. It's gonna take a while."

"Masato! There's no time! What if… the smoke…"

"Saori, I know how it looks, but trust me, we'll figure something o-wait," something caught his eye. "Hey. Would you look at that? I think Hayato's going to be just fine."

"What do you…ah. Ahhh…ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh….."

What Masato had observed awoke in Saori an optimism that forced her to weep.

It was a declaration bathed in crimson light.

The bright beacon depicted but a simple icon: a red circle, crisscrossed by webbing markings expanding outward from the center, with two white eyes outlined in black…

The message was loud and clear:

"The people inside won't be abandoned to their fate. They're under my protection."

Tears of relief rolled down Hayama Saori's cheeks as the image of the Spider-Signal projected against the blazing Prism Tower seared itself into her heart, forever.

---

"…What's that?" Haruno asked as the hall was illuminated in an ethereal red glow. Squinting against the glare, Yumiko saw it.

Her brain went into overdrive as it parsed the meaning behind it.

Haruno's interpretation was faster. "Everyone, away from the windows! Help's coming in!"

The partygoers who had futilely attempted to break the crystal realized what was about to happen and scampered off to find cover.

The blinding radiance disappeared in an instant. It was time.

Here came the miracle.

Seconds later, hope burst through shards of shatterproof glass.

Wasting no time, Spider-Man launched a web at a table near him, swinging it above everyone's heads and crashing it against an undamaged window pane with enough force to break both of the colliding objects to smithereens.

"That should help air the smoke out a bit…" Spider-Man said to no one in particular, despite all eyes being on him right now, and so was the commentary:

"Wow, it's him. It's really him. I think we're really going to make it!" a portly man bellowed.

"Look at his suit! He's the real deal!" exclaimed a female attendant.

Their rescuer continued to speak to some unseen interloper, and Yumiko sat close enough to make out what he was saying. "Okay, I'll do that," he stared upwards and clicked something on a slightly protruding segment to the side of his jaw. The searchlight from earlier lit up the room like a red sun. Spider-Man made some adjustment with the piece, flicking his thumb down as if turning a dial, and the intensity of the beam decreased to that of a flashlight.

He studied the ceiling intently. "Oh, crap…" she heard him mutter, and she could've sworn she saw his –eyes? – widen. "…Wait, you can do that? Patch me through!"

"What's he doing?" Someone murmured. If Spider-Man heard them, he didn't care to provide an answer.

"This is Spider-Man. I'm with the civilians up at Moonlight H-I'm aware this is a restricted frequency, and I don't care! …How can I prove I'm who I say I am? Didn't you just see me come in?! Listen, this isn't the time for that. We've got a ten-eighty-nine. …Yes, I know we don't use those in Japan… Well, there you go. That's what it means. Starting to get the picture, here?"

The odd monologue continued on, with everyone staring at the masked figure who furiously argued over what could only be assumed was some sort of radio.

"Okay. Okay, okay, good! That's a plan. All right, I'll get them there. Hurry!"

And with that, Spider-Man finally directed himself to the crowd. "Just had a chat with the emergency response team. They're going to send air rescue. We have to get to the helipad on the roof."

He made his way to the main entrance to the hall, and tore one of the double doors off its hinges.

"Okay, we're not using this exit."

Before him, an imposing pile of rubble blocked his path. Hurriedly, he sprinted for the emergency staircase and kicked its entry down. Whatever he saw inside made him draw the same conclusion:

"This won't work either."

Spider-Man strode towards the opposite side of the hall, placed his palm on a door, and turned to one of the attendants. "This leads to the kitchen, doesn't it?"

The attendant nodded dumbly.

"Stand back," he ordered, working something in his wrist-mounted gizmos as he did. He removed a cylinder from his right bangle and pulled at the front of a blue sash-like portion of his suit that went around his waist. A section of the stripe peeled and Spider-Man retrieved a handful of red cartridges from within, placing the cylinder he'd unloaded inside. Finally, he affixed the stripe back in place.

"Okay, here goes…you better not be lying about these things working on anything!"

He raised his right arm perpendicular to the ground, loaded one of the red cartridges into his bracelet, and then it was turn for that doorway to get kicked in.

Immediately, flames threatened to escape their containment and swallow Spider-Man whole. The encroaching flare was met by a projectile helping of a thick, goopy substance, followed by another, another, another, and then another. Spider-Man's hand flew over the wrist gadget, making two lightning-fast passes. In the first, the formerly loaded cartridge was ejected forcefully like a spent bullet casing from a pistol. In the second, a new cylinder was loaded and affixed. So dexterous were his movements that his reloading took about a second.

He repeated this with a couple more cylinders before heading inside the kitchen. His head poked from around the doorjamb moments later. "Way to the hallway's clear!"

A crowd of eager, panicked victims began to push their way towards safety.

"Hey! Keep it orderly! Have you people never been to a fire drill?!" Spider-Man protested, clearly annoyed with the brewing chaos.

"He's right!" Mr. Yukinoshita shouted. "Everyone, please remain calm, don't rush. Please cooperate so Spider-Man may aid us effectively! Please, follow after me!"

The anxious conglomerate saw reason in the man's words, and slowly began to become pliable to guidance. Haruno took the initiative and began to direct. "Form up over there! Keep a straight line!"

Meguri soon joined her, positioning herself opposite to Haruno and helping keep the line disciplined.

As for Yumiko, she decided to hang back and wait for everyone else to exit first. Spider-Man wouldn't leave someone behind, right? If she went last, she'd get a chance to talk to him…and ask him to find Hayato.

She, too, began to battle her agitation. Hayato had to be all right! He had to…!

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to concentrate in her self-imposed task. That was the best she could do for Hayato now.

Eventually, the hall thinned out, and Yumiko followed behind Shiromeguri and Haruno, entering a large kitchen splotched throughout in a white powdery substance. Within, Spider-Man was engaged in a discussion with one of the staffers.

"…Well, there are no charred corpses, and that's a good sign," said Spider-Man. "So, either they already left, unless…the fire blocked their way out from the start…"

Without warning, he leapt towards the end of the kitchen, flipping over an aluminum counter. He inspected the handle to a large slab of reinforced metal.

"It's molten. Fire must've messed it up."

Spider-Man snaked the fingers of both his hands between the slab and the wall, and with a mighty pull, forced it open. A cold draft invaded the room as he did.

Taking a peek inside, Spider-Man found exactly what he'd hoped to. "These the cooks you were looking for?" He said to the staffer he'd been talking to. "Come on," he gestured to those inside with his head "Roof. We're leaving."

Out of the walk-in cold storage, a sizable group of kitchen personnel filtered out, their clothes torn and their appearance haggard but mostly unharmed. They were shivering pretty violently – despite the lack of electricity, it still had to be extremely cold in there. Any more exposure, and they might have succumbed to hypothermia.

Seeing her chance to get a word in, Yumiko stepped right in his face. His eyes, lenses, whatever, widened in surprise. She chose to ignore that and spoke what she'd set out to.

"Spider-Man, my-my friend. He's missing."

"O-okay. Are you sure you didn't just lose sight of him?"

Yumiko shook her head sadly. "No, he'd left the hall to take a call when everything just…happened."

"…All right, lady. What's your name?"

"I-It's Yumiko. Miura Yumiko."

"Okay, Miura. Stay with the group. I'll go find your friend."

"But how will you know it's him?! Let me go with you!"

"Listen, I cannot guarantee your safety if you-"

"Let me go instead!" Haruno stepped forward. "I know the guy she's looking for. I can identify him for you."

"NO!" Spider-Man's lenses expanded even more than before as he released a startled shout. It was as if the being accompanied by a woman of Haruno's considerable charms was a more frightening prospect than braving a blazing building. "Err, I mean…no, because I saw how you handled yourself back there. I need you to keep doing that, so please continue helping with the evacuation."

"O…kay?" Haruno quirked an eyebrow, no doubt unsure sure what to make of the outburst.

"Anyways, keep leading everyone to the helipad. Miura and I are going to take a look around."

He sure changed his mind fast.

Yumiko recalled an ongoing discussion regarding Chiba's Spider-Man: whether or not he had a Spider Sense like his fictional counterpart. She hadn't paid mind to the ongoing television coverage speculating about every aspect of the mysterious benefactor, but she wondered if some extraordinary perception warned him the woman was bad news…

She shook the thought off. The only thing that mattered was Hayato's safety, and she couldn't afford to let her concentration wander. Stepping out the kitchen's other doorway, they reached a dim corridor, strips of emergency lightning on its sides doing a very poor job of illuminating the space but nonetheless indicating the path to the closest stairwell. She crouched in the near-dark, intent on removing her pumps.

"Keep those on," Spider-Man said, shining his red searchlight on her stooping form.

"But my feet are killing me!"

"Not as much as they would if you stepped on glass or some other thing that could cut you."

Yumiko huffed, straightening her body back up. "Point taken," she conceded, picking the smartphone she'd set down to work on her shoes.

"Don't want to have to carry you around if you injure yourself, is all."

"How thoughtful," Yumiko barbed as she operated her phone, turning its LED flashlight on.

Spider-Man began to descend down the corridor. "Don't stray too far, Miura. If you see anything, let me know."

Yumiko walked behind him, a few feet away, scanning with her own personal light. They pressed on, inspecting side rooms, a janitor's closet, and even the restrooms.

Spider-Man kept calling out:

"Hey, is there anyone here?!"

"We're here to get you out!"

"Say something if you can hear me!"

They had almost circled the entire floor and reached the ruined entrance of Moonlight Hall when her beacon caught on gold, causing it to gleam.

Yumiko gasped. She recognized it. That timepiece…it was Hayato's watch…

There, resting atop a piece of rubble…was Hayato's bloodied arm.

"SPIDER-MAN!" Yumiko cried out as her very being was subsumed into absolute horror.

It was as if her hopes, dreams, future, everything, her whole world was about to come crumbling down.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he crouched low and began to pick chunks of collapsed concrete and toss them aside. He worked swiftly, silently, purposefully…before letting out a sharp, relieved sigh.

"…He's breathing. He's alive."

Yumiko's legs buckled and she fell to her knees, the relief too much to bear standing. Her body softly collided against Spider-Man's, and with all her strength seemingly sapped away, her temple came to rest against his shoulder.

"Thank you, oh thank you, thank you so much…" she could feel the tears welling up.

Spider-Man, in turn… physically shrugged her off him with a motion of her newfound support.

"Hey!"

"I said I wasn't going to carry you. Now if you can just let me finish getting him o-"

The building rocked violently and the same booming sound from earlier reached Yumiko's ears. "What was tha-"

She, too, was interrupted – by screaming. Screaming from a hysterical Hayato, who violently flailed his arms and howled at the top of his lungs.

"Hey, stop, you're gonna hurt yourself!" Spider-Man growled, being struck by the palms thrashing about. "Stop that…stop it!"

But Hayato continued striking at Spider-Man, completely consumed by a feral, terrified frenzy. It wouldn't cease until the arachnid caught the battering limbs in his hands.

"HAYATO! PULL IT TOGETHER!"

Spider-Man's imperative stopped the confused Hayato in his tracks, as he squinted against the beam emitted near his rescuer's chin. The lamp cast its lines on the contours of Hayato's slack-jawed face, his eyes and those of the projection corresponding perfectly.

"Now calm down, and let me get you out of there. We have to get going as soon as we can."

Spider-Man continued liberating him from his entrapment, tossing more and more debris aside, until he lifted a large hunk and abruptly halted.

"Miura."

"Y-yes?"

"Turn off your light," he ordered as he slung Hayato's darkened silhouette across both his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"W-why would I do that?!"

"Do…as he says…" Hayato weakly interjected.

It didn't sit right with her, but she ultimately complied. She could never say no to Hayato.

"Miura, follow my light and stay close," Spider-Man said. They began to press on for the roof, climbing a few flight of stairs.

They reached the stairwell that lead to the roof access, and Yumiko's heart sank. It was completely sealed off by a mass of broken concrete and gnarled metal.

"Damn it!" Spider-Man muttered. "Can anyone hear me?!"

"I can hear you, Spider-Man!" A voice called out from the other side of the wreckage. It was clearly Haruno's.

"What's the situation over there?!"

"Evacuation is underway and nearly complete! Luckily nobody was caught on the explosion that blocked the stairwell!"

Explosion? Had that been what they'd heard earlier and startled Hayato awake?

"Did you find him?!" Haruno yelled.

"Yeah, he's with us right now!"

"Those are some good news, at least! Hey, they're calling me, it's time to board! I'll see you guys back on solid ground! Good luck!"

Spider-Man sighed. "Looks like I'm stuck babysitting you guys for a bit longer. Fire Department asked me to check the security office in the forty-sixth floor and make sure nobody's trapped in there. Then I'll get you out."

They descended those same stairs, thankfully not stumbling unto any other obstacles on their way down. When they did reach the forty-sixth level, however, there was another mound of debris that would've prevented them from reaching the forty-fifth.

"Guess we're lucky we got where you needed to go, huh…" Yumiko said, appraising the insurmountable hill of masonry.

"…I don't think luck has anything to do with it. Come on."

As if knowing exactly where to go, Spider-Man led them in front of an office. The plaque next to the ajar entrance indicated that it was, in fact, the security room.

Her guide splayed his free palm towards her, indicating her to keep some distance. He pushed the door with a tense creak, slinking inside. She accessed the office behind him, noticing that he was staring intently at what appeared to be a rectangular platform about the size of a school desk sitting in the middle of the pitch-black room. Covered by a tablecloth, an immaculately-frosted cake took up most of its surface. The cake was topped with a super-deformed human-like figure, with a head too big and a body too small.

"I have…a bad feeling about this..." Hayato, perched across Spider-Man's back, tiredly added.

"You and me both…Are you recording this?" Spider-Man said, the last part assumedly not directed at either her or Hayato.

Ambling closer, Yumiko took a good look at the confection's topper. It was some sort of cheap toy, the type that'd be included with a fast food meal. By itself, that wouldn't be worrisome – but the toy was of Spider-Man, the eyepieces of his mask crossed out with thick black marker.

That wasn't foreboding at all.

Spider-Man snatched a card resting next to the cake. "Congratulations…"

He grabbed hold of the tablecloth and tugged, tumbling the dessert away.

Yumiko was petrified.

There, stacked atop the racks of a serving cart.

Bundles of rectangular, brick-like objects.

And a red number display making it abundantly clear what those were…marking 0:24.

She was immediately scooped off her feet.

Before she could even react, Spider-Man had wrapped his right arm around her midsection.

They darted down corridors until he found a window.

"HOLD ON TIGHT!"

She didn't get a chance to shout as he spiraled ahead feet-first and defenestrated past a rain of sparkling crystal.

Behind them, a fireball roared like a fevered beast, lashing at them with a merciless gale.

Yumiko wanted to scream, just like Hayato was, but she couldn't even find her voice. Instead, she closed her eyes and held on tighter to Spider-Man's chest as gravity battered them.

And then, they were slowing down.

Mustering the courage to open her eyes, Yumiko witnessed their savior, his left hand gliding gradually down a web-line as Hayato held on to the hero's arm for dear life.

Yumiko couldn't help but ask: "…how did you know that was going to work?"

"…I didn't."

As they inched closer and closer to the ground, deafening cheers and wild applause broke out.

"I guess you ended up having to carry me, after all," Yumiko quipped, confidence returning once her feet were firmly planted on solid earth again.

"Yeah, and I hope I never have to lug around two people at the same time ever again," Spider-Man shot back.

"…Uh, guys…" the injured Hayato interrupted.

"Right. If you'll excuse me, Miura, I have to send your boyfriend to the hospital. Later."

Yumiko didn't get a chance to correct him about her relationship to Hayato (and honestly, she didn't want to) for he immediately made his way towards one of the ambulances. Shortly thereafter, a group of paramedics led her away, checked her up, bandaged her scuffs, and kindly gave her a water bottle to drink from. She hadn't realized how parched her throat had been once it was all over.

Sitting safely on the edge of a rescue vehicle, a thermal blanket wrapped around her, the events of the night began to replay in her mind. She had never been so close to death nor to losing someone important to her.

If it hadn't been for Spider-Man, she probably wouldn't have survived through the night. She wondered if any of the guests would've.

He might've been a little prickly, but she was truly, truly thankful. Nobody else could've gotten Hayato out from under those ruins so quickly.

…wait a minute…

"HAYATO! PULL IT TOGETHER!"

Those words echoed within her.

She'd been too nervous to notice before, but now, in hindsight, it stood out.

There was something strange about them. Something that didn't add up.

…That was it.

Miura Yumiko came to a startling realization.

…Nobody ever mentioned Hayato's name to him.

---

Hachiman safely laid Hayato out on the stretcher, taking special care not to further injure the boy's mangled, broken legs. They were a sorry sight, one so gruesome they made his stomach twirl.

Regardless, a woman that looked like a doctor kept showering him with inconsolable gratitude. From how she referred to Hayato as "her boy", he could only assume this had to be his mother.

Soon, the stretcher was loaded into an ambulance and they were gone. Some of the tension in Hachiman's body faded. Even if he never saw eye to eye with Hayama Hayato, he would never wish him actual harm.

Secretly, he was glad he managed to get Hayama and Miura out from that deathtrap.

Thoughts about how guilt motivated Peter Parker into being the original Spider-Man invaded. He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to be shackled by penance.

In the corner of his lens, he spotted two very familiar young girls.

Their eventual arrival had to be a given, really.

He saw Yukinoshita Yukino, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, run up to her father and lock him in a shaky embrace.

Guess…that's another father and daughter reunion I've made possible.

It was time to go. He didn't belong there. Not anymore, for the job was done.

One web shot later, and he was up on the roof of another building.

"Well, that was something, alright."

"Hachiman..." Tobe's softly spoke into his earpiece. "…You keep savin' me, and everything important to me. Thank you, man. Really."

"Hey, what was I supposed to do, leave them there? I did what I had to, that's all."

Tobe snorted. "Still, thanks."

"Yeah, whatever. And Tobe?"

"Hm?"

"Good job. Even if I did all the heavy lifting."

"…You want me to skip on givin' you directions next time?" Tobe shot back, but Hachiman could hear his grin.

"Look at you two go," another voice radioed. "This is what we call a textbook buddy cop duo. One's dour and gruff! The other's peppy and cheery! Together, they fight crime!"

"Ah, stuff it, Echo," Hachiman bemoaned.

"…So what will you do now, Hachiman?" Echo asked.

"Have to stop by your place and pick up my stuff."

"Not really what I meant to ask."

"While I'm there," Hachiman continued, "we could review the footage you captured and see what we can make out of all this. There. There's your answer."

Echo snorted, and Hachiman could practically hear the smarmy satisfaction. "…See you in a bit, then. Over and out." Echo closed.

"...Yeah, I'd appreciate some quiet swinging time," Hachiman said, loading the half-used web cartridge he'd stored earlier into his right shooter.

With that, he disappeared into the night.

My life is truly strange. One day, I'm the loner everyone at school hates. The next, I'm still that, but I'm also everyone's favorite superhero on the side.

There's no way around it: I'm drunk with the power I currently possess. As I swing across the city, it's hard not to feel exhilaration. Nothing else comes close.

It's incredible. The scenery unfolding below me, and behind me, in front of me, and above me.

I kept thinking about reasons I should avoid being Spider-Man. Kept telling myself that risking everything for strangers wasn't worth it. After all, in the years I've been alive, I've constantly been on the receiving end of human cruelty. I've been isolated and hurt by the jeering words of others, again and again and again.

There was never anyone in my corner. Nobody who would stand up for me, at least until recently.

But now…even if nightmares continue to haunt me…I think I want to be Spider-Man.

I can be that person that was never there for me.

Even if it's just the foolish wish of my inebriated self…

All the sorrow, abandonment, and pain I've experienced thus far in my life, I…

---

THE SPLENDID SPIDER-MAN

Issue #2 – Naturally, Hikigaya Hachiman Mulls Over His Role

---

"…I'm going to make sure it's worth something."

---

[THE LETTERS COLUMN]:

---

Apologies for the delay in the delivery of this issue! However, I still made my monthly quota, even if just barely! I was actually thinking on making updates at least monthly, with quicker updates if possible, but considering I prefer to pen issues where a lot happens, that might prove challenging.

That said, there's another reason there was a delay in publishing: I'm really slow at drawing. What's this about drawing, you ask? This story is text, you say? Well, yes, yes it is – but I had to design Hachiman's suit! You can see A PICTURE OF THE SUIT at thesplendidspider-man over on tumblr dot com! If I get a chance, I'll upload sketches and other art to that blog. Then again, I was so busy with work and writing, I didn't even get a chance to draw a back view for the suit! Hopefully I managed to get that idea transmitted to you well enough in writing.

Now, for what people have actually written in:

Nerubian Assassin says this story should be put under crossovers (in fanfiction dot net). Well, I respectfully disagree, for this story is Hachiman's story, as well as of those around him (that is to say, exclusively Oregairu characters). How they act, how they grow, and how they develop under this situation, with character arcs already plotted in advance. While I'm planning on including some cameos (and we've already seen one in Echo), these are supporting characters whose presence in the story is to make the world feel vast. Much like how, in The Amazing Spider-Man #1 we had a guest appearance by The Fantastic Four, but that was squarely a Spider-Man story. Unless, of course, you meant this as a crossover between Spider-Man and Oregairu – in which case I'm not sure whether injecting a concept from one work to another would count as a traditional crossover.

(Then there's also the fact that ff dot net's crossover cataloguing system is really, really bad!)

ToolazytoLogin asks if I have a lot of free time. Hoo boy, do I wish that were the case! Regardless, this is a story I really want to tell, so I'll work hard to get it told!

To DarkDurian: sorry to have kept you waiting!

Finally, Wryyy mentions Hachiman should be "Venom black" and puts a mental image in my head that's both amusing and terrifying. Now this gives me a chance to share with you a bit of Spider-Trivia as well as some concepts behind the story.

First for the trivia: many have at least some passing familiarity with the Emissary from Hell, the main character in Toei Company's Japanese Spider-Man adaptation, Yamashiro Takuya. But, did you know there's another Japanese Spider-Man from the seventies? This would be Komori Yu, protagonist of the first Spider-Man manga. He is a troubled young man who faces extreme psychological strain from being thrust into the role of Spider-Man. So I don't think you can attribute a single "personality" to Spider-Men: there have been so many that are not Peter Parker, and act nothing like him!

And now, regarding the story: I can reveal three points at this time without spoiling anything.

First, I want to depict contrasts between the perception of Spider-Man and the reality of Hikigaya Hachiman. You know how Spider-Man is always being called a menace in the comics? It's different here, isn't it? After all, this is a world where people grew up with the same stories of Spider-Man we did. People love Spider-Man. Yet, when it comes to Hikigaya Hachiman…

Oh, look at me blabbing on. On to the next point, coupled with another bit of trivia: did you know Spider-Man's costume during the Lee-Ditko era (that is to say, Spider-Man's first adventures) was not red and blue, but red and black? You see, back in the day, it was common to use blue to add highlights to black in comics, due in no small part to the printing technology available at the time. When John Romita Sr. took up artistic duties following Ditko's departure, he misinterpreted those sections as actually blue, and another important milestone of Spider-History was reached.

Now, as indicated within the story, the Peter Parker during Ditko's run was VERY different from the one we know today. He had this huge chip on his shoulder, was constantly irritable and often blew people off. In fact, reading these old issues is what gave me the inspiration to weave this yarn – "wow, early Peter reminds me a lot of my favorite rotten-eyed loner", or something like that.

What I'm trying to get at here is that Hachiman's Spider Protector is largely black due to these reasons. One, it's the color that I, too, associate the most with the boy. Two, it's a homage to the Ditko run, the period where Spider-Man was just getting started out AND when Hachiman and Peter Parker's personalities were at their most similar.

However, don't forget this is just a nod! Hachiman is on the road to becoming his own Spider-Man. Not Peter Parker, or Miles Morales, or Komori Yu, or even Hobie Brown. He's his own person, with his own set of experiences, who will make his own decisions and will have to live with them.

And, to everyone, including those mentioned above, thank you SO MUCH for leaving a review! Please keep them coming! You guys are the ones that keep me going, really. Besides, more reviews give me a chance to point out some more behind-the-scenes stuff as well as spout some more Spider-Trivia.

Finally, I'm going to see Spider-Verse tomorrow! It hasn't debuted over here yet, and opens Christmas Day. So stoked to get to watch it!

Oh, one more thing! The book Hachiman's been reading is "Marvel Epic Collection: Spider-Man – Great Power". It collects Amazing Fantasy #15 (Spider-Man's debut issue), Amazing Spider-Man #1 through #17, as well as Amazing Spider-Man Annual #1. If you're interested in reading it yourself, there you go.

Thank you so much for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! It's time for me to swing away!