Crisis at the Literature Club

by Honeybarry Cutiedoobles

Following a special arrangement made by their fathers, Jon Kent and Damian Wayne are now attending Gotham High, together. They soon find themselves joining a Club all about Literature, meeting four unique girls in the process. What could go wrong?

14. Interlude VI: On Edge Pt 1

THEN

It had stopped raining.

She could finally emerge from the bus stop she'd used as a makeshift cover from the hammering raindrops, a type of weather all too common here in Gotham, and step out onto the deserted, soaked streets. She breathed in, and caught the usual mixtured smell of garbage and chemicals in the air, but beneath that lied the pleasant scent of petrichor, which she enjoyed quite a lot. Well, she enjoyed the word, having recently read it in a book and looked it up, which then in turn made her appreciate the smell she'd always taken for granted.

She'd been lucky to have found the bus stop when she had, before the rain had really started to catch on, and overwhelm her in its cold, wet embrace. Even luckier had it been that no one else had sought refuge under the small roof of the bus stop, since the prospect of standing in such a cramped space in close proximity to a total stranger would in all likelihood have made her head straight into the downpour, even though it meant miles worth of trodding in the freezing February weather. But it would also ensure that this hypothetical person wouldn't try and start a conversation with her that she could muck up, like it seemed she always did.

Yuri was not what could be called a "social" person.

But not having to face the horror of another human trying to talk to her, had been where her luck ended.

The bus stop hadn't insulated much against the temperature, which in fairness was above freezing, although not by much. Oh, she was sure the coldness would have been way worse if she had really gone out into the rain, but even being as dry as she was, the ice-like wind crept along over all the places her bare skin was exposed by this ridiculous outfit she was wearing, sending a multitude of chills down her spine. Even the covered parts of her body weren't safe, as the purple fabric that made up her dress was far too thin to protect her from the unyielding breeze.

She wished she was wearing her thick, white, comfortable sweater instead. Or even her Gotham High uniform with its way too short blue skirt exposing her legs would have been better than this. People always claimed she was among the smartest people at school, just because she could usually be seen somewhere in a quiet corner, reading a book, but if she truly was as intelligent as people said, one would think she would have remembered to bring a jacket with her at this time of year. What had she been thinking, going to that party dressed like this?

The party.

Yuri shuddered, in equal parts from the cold of the city, and the memories of the events that had transpired just a few hours ago, and fought back tears as her mind once again forced her to relive it.

I really screwed up everything this time. She thought miserably, throwing her bare arms around herself, the normally smooth pale skin of them littered with goosebumps as she tried in vain to protect them from the cold.

Of course the dress couldn't have had sleeves either, and she silently cursed herself even further in her mind for wearing it, as she began her long journey home through the dark, empty streets of the city, the usual clouds in the sky above blocking the view of all stars, making the street lamps along the road the only source of light available.

As she walked, she thought back on that horrible party, and reflected on all the things she had done to mess it up.

Under any other normal circumstances, the idea of going to this, or any other social gathering really, would have been completely out of the question for her, and would have been cause for Yuri to break out her usual, polite white lies when getting the invitations, such as "I'd love to, but my grandmother is visiting!" or "Sorry, but my cat is sick." Well, she hoped they would be seen as polite, in any regard.

It wasn't so much that she hated other people and their company, but more that she was completely clueless on how to act amongst them. It seemed to her like every time she would try to contribute to a conversation someone else were having about a topic she knew about, or answer a question the teacher asked them in class, or even something as simple as laughing at a joke someone was telling, she would only be met with awkward silences and judgmental stares.

She wasn't sure why exactly things were like this, since in her mind she followed the correct social cues to speak up at the right intervals, but obviously she had to be doing something wrong as she kept getting those unwelcome reactions whenever she'd decide to speak up. Years of this putting pressure on her, making her blush in embarrasment and stutter and stumble over her own words, she'd eventually learned to just stop speaking up unless spoken to, and avoid situations where she would find herself amongst others, as a way to prevent those unwanted moments.

All this had resulted in her essentially going through this whole school semester without speaking to anyone, making any friends, and basically checking all the boxes for the "social outcast" role. But it really wasn't as bad as it sounded.

She kind of liked the peace and quiet that came with being alone, and having no friends meant no one for her to worry about and get anxious over. It also meant way more free time for her to use on her homework, and of course reading, which should go without saying that she enjoyed quite a lot.

But then, everything had changed when he had come into her life.

Caleb.

A foreign exchange student. It had surprisingly enough been him who had approached her first, on a typical rainy Gotham day after class. She'd been sitting by her desk at the far end corner of the classroom, all her things having been neatly packed away in her backpack except for the book she'd been reading. She always lagged a little behind everyone else when classes ended, as a way for her not to get caught up in the chaos of students all crashing into each other in their effort to get outside the school.

While others might not find it optimal to read a story with all the noise of yelling, chattering teenagers all around her, she had a talent for getting completely sucked into whatever book she was currently reading, losing her senses for the world around her, to the point where the teacher sometimes had to poke her shoulder before she realized that the classroom had been deserted for ten minutes or so.

On that fateful day a few weeks ago she'd been quite surprised, when Caleb had approached her desk, and, sounding genuinely interested, asked what she was reading.

Having been caught off guard, she'd mumbled some general vague plot summary, that probably sounded incredibly boring if not completely unintelligable, and certainly unworthy of the quality of the book. She was sure that she could do better if she'd known he'd ask her, and had some more time to prepare.

But to her further surprise, he hadn't seemed to be at all bothered by her poor explanation, and had instead told her it sounded fascinating, to the point where he might consider picking it up himself. He'd revealed that he was something of an avid reader himself, and they'd fallen into talks about their favorite books and writers.

It had gone on like that for the next few weeks, them catching each other at various moments in school, and just... talking to eachother.

She had found that he was actually really easy to talk to, with none of her social problems presenting themselves in their conversations. She'd shared more about herself to him than she'd ever done to anyone else in her life, like her favorite brand of tea, her hopes for a future career as a writer, and so many other things she never would have dreamed of telling anyone else.

In turn, she'd learned more about him as well. He was from Europe, evidenced in part by his corn-blonde hair, and had dreams himself about becoming an actor. He had the ability to do some downright mindbending impressions, being able to disguise his own voice and accent so well, it was like he became a whole other person entirely. Her personal favorite was his parody of a typical cowboy, which he'd use to spout off various Wild West tropes and phrases that amused her greatly, but also somehow, confusingly enough, made him seem more... attractive.

Not that she had a thing for cowboys or anything, it was more the fact that he was able to do it, the raw talent so clearly present within him that made her want to get closer to Caleb, closer than she'd ever been to another person before.

Which all led into that afternoon a few days ago, where he'd personally handed her an invitation for his birthday party that he would be holding at his host family's place, telling her that he really hoped she could make it, and that, in his own words, she was "one of the best friends he'd made during his time here in America."

Her heart had leapt what felt like several feet in the air at that point, doing somersaults and breaking into song, all at the same time, and she'd done something that had filled her up with as much excitement as it did paralyzing terror: she'd accepted the invitation.

Her instincts told her no. The rational side of her brain told her it was a bad idea. Her memories reminded her of all the unpleasant experiences she'd had with social gatherings before, and helpfully let her know that a party would be the social event to go to, which for her would be like knowingly throwing herself into shark-infested waters, with an open wound to get the feeding frenzy started.

But her heart, still fluttering from the comment about her being one of his best friends, had told her that this would be the best opportunity she would ever get at admitting her true feelings for him, and then surely he would say in response that he felt the same way, right? After all, being his friend wasn't so far removed from being his girlfriend. The only reason he hadn't taken the next leap himself was because he was a boy, and it was a well known fact that boys, no matter how kind and amazing Caleb was, couldn't take initiative to something like this. It had made sense, or so she'd told herself.

The next few days had been very hectic for her, as she constantly went over the upcoming day in her head, going through all the things she would do to make sure it would go as smoothly as possible. It had been on her mind when she'd wake up in the morning, while walking to school, in the middle of classes, at lunch break, and when she'd go to sleep in the evening again. She'd been stressing so much about it that she'd skipped meals, and even puked once in the morning before she'd gone to school.

She'd convinced herself that it wasn't anything to worry about. Less eating and even throwing up meant a thinner body for her, which meant she'd look more attractive to him, right?

Following that vein of thought, she'd gone to a clothes shop after researching what the newest, hottest dresses were, and for the first time in her life had bought something based merely on its appearance, instead of how comfortable she felt wearing it: the dress. The purple dress to match her hair and eyes, with its silky fabric and lack of a back, which made her feel incredibly underdressed wearing it, but had convinced herself that it would be for the best, that it would improve the chances of him saying yes when she'd finally ask him by looking as desirable as possible. Not that she would need it, because of course he'd say yes. There was no reason he wouldn't say yes to his best friend, after all. Wearing the dress would just... help, that was all.

The dress had cost her almost all of her money, and she'd realized in horror that she still needed to buy him a birthday present. The invitation had said it wasn't required, but everyone knew that only cheapskates showed up at a birthday party without a present.

She'd used her remaining cash to get the most authentic looking cowboy hat she could find, hoping it would be enough. As an extra security measure, she spent five hours in a straight sitting in order to construct the best poem she could manage, which would put her feelings for him into beautiful words she could never hope to properly formulate into speech, and wrapped both hat and poem into bright, purple wrapping paper.

It was downright surreal to her how far she was taking this. She'd never shown her writing to anyone else before, and now she would be sharing it at a party, with so many people she'd never even talked to before.

But Caleb would be there. And as long as he was present, as long as he would read her confession, the other people didn't matter at all. There was too much at stake here, and she'd invested way too much into things to be discouraged by her social anxiety now.

And at last, the day of the party arrived.

She had nearly died of embarrasment when a member of his host family, a very chatty woman with curly, brown hair, had arrived in a car by her home to pick her up, as per the arrangement Yuri had made with Caleb.

He lived too far away for one to walk, especially on a rainy day in February. It had been a pretty awkward car ride, not helped along in the slightest by Caleb's absence, but she understood it. She'd been foolish to assume the birthday boy would personally pick up everyone. She'd tried her best to be as polite, coherant and normal as it was possible for someone like her to be in her responses to the woman's endless smalltalk, though it had been very hard not to blush and stutter when she had praised Yuri's appearance with the dress to the moon and back.

Twenty minutes, that felt like three hours of intense regret and feeling sick with anxiety later, she'd finally emerged from the car to head into Caleb's house.

It hadn't been a good experience, but she had known that from the beginning. The house had been very crowded, filled to the brim with young people she didn't know at all, even though she had probably attended the same school as them for over a year, and they were all chatting excitedly to each other. She hadn't known what to do there, since the purse she'd brought along with her hadn't been big enough to fit one of her books, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway since there wasn't any unoccupied corners for her to sit down and read.

Her nerves had been eased a tiny amount when Caleb had seen her, and told her in one of his funny accents how beautiful she looked, and to place the gift she was carrying on a table with the other presents to be opened at a later time (showing she'd been correct in ignoring the guideline on the invitation) and lastly to just relax and have fun.

Which had been easier said than done. She hadn't blamed Caleb for not spending more of his time on her, leaving her to her own devices so he could talk to his other guests, that was what a host did, after all. But it had left her in quite a predicament as she'd just kinda drifted around the room, trying to locate a spot with the least amount of people. She'd probably unnerved quite a few guests by not talking to anyone and staring ahead of herself, trying to find a mental happy place, like her and Caleb, alone together, on an empty field. It hadn't blocked the anxiety she'd felt as people kept staring at her and that damned dress, while it was painfully evident to her that none of them were as fancily dressed.

At long last, it was time for Caleb to open his presents.

It was... odd, how they decided to do it. All the guests grabbed hold of the present they'd brought with them, and lined up single file to hand the birthday host his presents one at a time.

As usual, Yuri only understood way too late what the others were doing, and as a result ended up the last person in the queue, right behind who she knew was Caleb's best male friend, since they always seemed to be hanging out together. She couldn't remember his name, them having never really spoken to eachother before.

It was both a good and bad thing to have the present ceremony done like this. It was a way to make sure Caleb never skimmed over a single gift, and could properly thank the person giving it, which he made sure he did with flawless courtesy. But it also made the buildup nearly unbearable for Yuri, whose heart seemed to pound harder and harder against her chest the closer she got to him.

It seemed like most people had opted for just giving Caleb cash, which suited her just fine. Oh sure, being the gentleman he was, he would thank them just the same, but she knew that a personalized gift like hers would trump everyone else's, and no one had gone through the time and effort to pour out their heart and soul onto paper like she had. Despite her nerves, she had confidence that her gift would be the best one.

It had just been her, and the male friend of Caleb's left. She had felt herself shaking slightly, just one more person left until she could deliver her own gift. Strangely enough though, it seemed like the male friend either had something very small to give the host, or nothing at all, since he just stood there in front of her, a casual smile on his face, his hands concealed in his pockets. She'd thought maybe he was just going to hand him some crumbled up dollar bills, until he'd spoken up to Caleb.

"Well, Caleb." He'd said, in a relaxed voice, looking directly into the boy's eyes, who smiled back at him. "It seems like I forgot to buy anything for you. How clumsy of me."

"Oh?" Caleb had responded, his smile growing wider. "Not gonna lie, that's kinda disappointing dude. I was sure you of all people would have something for me."

They had been doing that thing she'd seen other close friends did, speaking as if they were offended, while you could clearly hear on their tones that they weren't. She wouldn't pretend she really understood why, since she didn't really have anybody in her life like that, but she could appreciate the closeness these two friends had between eachother.

The male friend had shrugged his shoulders.

"It is what it is, I suppose." Then, he'd snapped his fingers, as if he'd just thought of something. "But y'know, maybe there's something I can do to make it up to you."

"Hmm." Caleb had said, in mock thoughtfulness. "I dunno, dude. It would have to be something pretty big for me to forgive you for this forgetfulness."

"Oh, I think you'll like this well enough." The male friend had said, and took a few steps closer to Caleb. "C'mere, pretty boy."

And then, without further ado, the male friend had inched his head forwards, locking lips with the birthday boy right in front of Yuri.

It was like the whole world shattered around her as she stared in utter shock and disbelief at the display of uncontained lust and yearning in front of her, both of them running their hands affectionately over the other's body, neither of them breaking the kiss. This clearly wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing that could be played off as a joke for shock value by the male friend. This was pure, uncontained, shameless passion between two people quite clearly in love, going on in front of her.

And she hadn't realized it before now.

She'd racked her brain, trying to recall all the moments she and Caleb had shared during these past few weeks, trying to find some kind of evidence to somehow convince herself that this scene didn't make any sense, and could only be a nightmare she had yet to wake up from.

But nothing sprang to mind. Throughout all this time, they had mostly talked about books and writing, but never once had the topic of love come up, nothing about Caleb being single, or if he was even attracted to girls in the first place. Those had all been blanks she had filled out in her own head, taking them for granted. And as she thought back, recontextualizing every scenario, she realized that he had never referred to her as anything besides a good friend.

The other guests had been making loud "OOOH" noises, a clear mixture of cheering and mocking going through the crowd at seeing the male friend doing his very best to shove his tongue down Caleb's throat, and vice versa. Yuri had noted at the time that none of them had seemed surprised at the display, most likely because they'd seen the "friendship" between the two boys for what it really was, instead of what she had hoped it to be. Plenty of the audience had pulled out their phones, snapping pictures of the kiss while laughing, a darkhaired girl even pushing Yuri a bit to the side for a better view.

Shaken from her momentary paralysis, Yuri had come to herself, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes away, as she'd utilized the chaos around her to tear a small hole in the wrapping paper she was holding, and with two long, shaky fingers fished out the poem inside the cowboy hat, putting it inside her purse. Then, seemingly without being noticed by any of the people around her, she'd placed the gift back at the table, and with a last glance back at who she'd thought would be her boyfriend, she'd quietly stalked out of the house.

A strong burst of wind brushed past Yuri, making her shiver as she walked past a dark alleyway. The thin dress was little more effective at warding off the cold than if she was wearing wet tissue paper instead. She sniffled slightly, tears streaming down her face from reminiscing the party and everything that had gone wrong.

Why was it that all her attempts to find love ended this way?

Caleb hadn't been the first boy to break her heart. Far from it, actually.

Throughout her life, she'd had plenty of crushes on various boys, the earliest of which she could recall having been a boy she'd met in middle school by the age of 11. It was funny, she'd been so enamored with him back then, but now she couldn't even remember his name. They'd been playing together daily, and even agreed to get married when they grew up, (which had probably been meant as joke, but she'd taken it seriously) but then after an arson spree caused by Firefly had taken place dangerously close to his family's house, he'd moved away to Metropolis, and he hadn't spoken to her since, which had been understandably devastating for her back then.

Then, in her rebellious age of 15 where she'd wanted to show that she was above the rules of her parents, she'd met Mac, a tough guy who'd had a fancy motorcycle they'd ride through the city together past curfew, laughing together about how much they hated their parents, the government, Bruce Wayne, and basically anyone they considered rich and/or powerful.

She'd actually been the one to end their relationship, when he'd taken her to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city one night and revealed to her that "the internship" he'd told her about, which was how he got the money for the bike, had been from being employed by The Riddler as a henchman. Horrified by this revelation, she had swiftly cut him off from her life, deleted her social media accounts, and thus her rebellious streak had come to an end. She knew she had made the right choice, but that didn't make it hurt any less, since she had liked Mac quite a lot before seeing his true side.

Then there had been the time half a year ago where her eye had been caught by an older guy with beautiful tattoos across his arms, and a brilliant sense of humor along with a kind, helpful voice that made her think she could trust him with anything. Only problem being he'd been her math teacher, and after a few conversations which frankly were too embarrasing to even recall, that unfortunate crush had thankfully come to a swift end as well.

Yuri sighed, stopping under the light of a streetlamp to lean against a run down brick wall, right next to an alleyway. It took quite a toll on her to even think back on those old crushes of hers, and how they'd been doomed to fail, now with Caleb being the newest one to join them.

She wondered why this always happened to her, getting so obsessed with any and all boys who showed her even the slightest bit of kindness. Just a single smile from them would be enough for her to fall for them, head over heels in an instant.

Caleb would probably wonder where she had went, disappearing from his party like that without saying anything. Maybe he'd even worry about her, and text her since she'd given him her number weeks before. Should she do like she'd done with Mac, ghosting him until he gave up? That would be an awful thing to do to him since he really hadn't done anything wrong, but at the same time she doubted she could remain friends with him after this. It would just hurt too much.

Yuri suddenly remembered she was still walking around with the poem in her purse. The poem she had spent so much time writing, now fated to go unread by everyone except her, just like all the other poems she'd been too afraid to show anyone.

No.

Perhaps it was just the distraught emotional state she was in at the moment, but the thought of ever reading the contents of that paper again after today actually managed to make her sick to her stomach (not helped along by the fact that she hadn't eaten anything today) as it would serve to be nothing more than some horrible reminder of quite possibly the worst mistake she'd ever made in her life. She reached into her purse, fully intending to pick up the poem, and rip it into a thousand little pieces, the last proof of her true feelings for the boy she could never have, being dropped, scattered and forgotten by the wind.

But instead of paper, her fingers made contact with something she most certainly hadn't inserted inside the purse herself. Something soft, spongy, and vaguely sticky.

Confused, she grabbed hold of the unidentified item, and pulled it up to inspect it by the streetlamp's light.

It was a cupcake.

The tiny brown pastry, fitting snugly in the palm of her hand, emitted a pleasant, sweet smell that overpowered the chemicals, pollution and petrichor by being in such close proximity to her. Lines of red frosting on top of it, lightly smudged a bit by her fumbling fingers, made up the blocky letters of a handwriting she clearly recognized, as if she knew of anyone else who could bake something of this quality.

Natsuki had written "SORRY."

Yuri hadn't even seen the short girl at the party, but it was very likely she'd been there, hidden from view by a number of factors: Yuri's stressed state of mind, Natsuki's own anti-social behaviour and of course, her own height. Yuri, being as tall as she was, would have sticked out like a sore thumb dressed like she was, making an easy target for Natsuki to sneak up to her and plant the pastry into her purse without her noticing.

Yuri stared at the cupcake, trying to decipher its meaning, something she was rarely able to do when it concerned the pinkhaired girl.

Though she'd known her ever since the early days of kindergarten, they'd both mostly stuck to themselves, and Yuri had never quite been able to get a clear read on her, despite going to the same classes and even conversing with the girl on several occasions, usually started by Natsuki mocking her for something she did.

She didn't know if the ridicule was meant as a light ribbing among long time friends, if they even were friends, or if Natsuki had just hated her all these years, and the jeering had always been what it sometimes felt like to her: bullying. She had actually tried asking the shorter girl, but the replies she'd gotten had always been either jokey or strangely cryptic, making it impossible to tell. Like with this cupcake.

Did the "SORRY" mean that Natsuki alone had been able to tell Yuri's feelings for Caleb? Or was it another evidence of her special brand of sarcasm?

Yuri couldn't say, but a loud growl from the pit of her stomach made her realize she didn't really care. She was hungry, and she was holding something edible, and if she knew Natsuki's baking skills right, delicious. The hidden meaning behind it really didn't matter as long as it could give her some much needed fuel for the long walk home.

While not typically one for eating sweets, she hungrily raised the pastry to her mouth, parting her lips, and-

"Terribly sorry to interrupt you like this, Miss."

Yuri's eyes widened in shock at the unexpected voice coming from right behind her, but just when she was about to scream, a rough hand clasped itself tightly around her mouth, drowning out the sound.

Starting to hyperventilate as the fear took hold of her body, she desperately tried reaching with her own hands to fight off the unseen assailant, causing the cupcake she'd been holding to fall down, landing with a soft splash in a puddle on the ground. Just as she made contact with the cold, strong hand around her mouth, she felt something even colder, harder and sharper, around her throat.

"Please relax, Miss." The voice said again. It was unmistakably male, but more highpitched than what she considered normal, a slight hesitative shaking in it as if whoever had grabbed hold of her was chewing every word, picking and choosing carefully between them. "I understand this must be quite... frightful for you, but I really must insist you follow me in here, away from the light. I think you'll find it to be in your best interest. Nod if you understand."

He pressed what she had to assume was a larger than average blade tighter against her throat, the meaning ringing crystal clear to her. Tears, no longer from regret over Caleb but instead the paralyzing fear that had grabbed hold of her, trickled down her face, and she weakly bobbed her head up and down.

"Great. That's good. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow my lead." He said, and she felt his hand around her mouth pull her gently, guiding her. She moved her legs, walking backwards into what she could tell was the dark alley.

This was like straight out of a night terror, only much worse since she unfortunately knew this was very much real. Disregarding the forced behaviour of this man, she hated when other people touched her without her expecting it, even if it was something as innocent as a gentle hand on her shoulder from a teacher during a lesson. Since the man's hand was right underneath her nose, she could pick up the sickening odour of blood that had to be littering his fingers, making her dizzy.

"That's it. One step after the other, easy does it." He said, in what was probably supposed to be a soothing voice, but had the very opposite effect on her. "You're doing great, Miss. Just a few more steps..."

The light from the open street became smaller and more hard to make out as Yuri found herself deep, deep within the alley, before the man finally stopped the pull on her head.

"Alright." He said, and eased the blade around her throat a bit. "Now, I'd really prefer to have a nice, civil talk with you. It's not every day I get the chance to do that, doing what I do, so it's always such a pleasure when this opportunity arises. That being said however, if you scream during this, I will not hesitate to cut your throat."

Yuri's heart pounded even harder at hearing that, and he must have picked up the vibrations through the knife still resting on her throat.

"I do implore you to think this through thoroughly, Miss. Take all the time you need, I am in no rush."

She just wanted to get his hand off her. It was hard to think of anything else, when she was forced to take in that horrible mixtured smell of blood and sweat underneath her nose.

She nodded her head again, to show that she understood.

"Ahh." The man sighed in satisfaction, and Yuri shuddered as she felt his warm breath on her hair. "I am so grateful to you for making this choice, Miss. I will let go of you in 3... 2... 1..."

The hand released her, and the smell of blood was swiftly replaced by the smell of litter from the garbage bin they were standing right next to. She breathed in deeply, and never thought she would be so relieved to smell rotting banana peels.

She used all her remaining willpower to keep herself from just ignoring her attacker's warning and scream her lungs out. As a compromise, she settled on trying to run away, but found that her legs weren't obeying her properly, feeling like jelly as the knees wobbled dangerously. She braced herself for impact as she started tobbling over.

"Careful!" The man exclaimed, worry in his voice, and she felt his hands on her body again, grabbing hold of her under her arms, keeping her from falling. Once again, she had to keep herself from screaming at the sensation of his touch.

"Here. Let's get you settled down, Miss." She felt him lower her gently, easing her down to sit on the moist ground, leaned up against the garbage bin. "That would have been one nasty fall. Can't have that."

He chuckled slightly, and Yuri looked up with deepest dread, finally putting her eyes on the owner of the voice.

Her eyes slowly getting accustomed to the darkness, she could see he was very pale and thin, his ribcage clearly visible through the skin of his torso, which was completely unclothed. In fact, the only article of clothing visible upon him were a pair of ragged, dirty pants on his legs.

He was seemingly unbothered by the cold weather, as evidenced by the gentle expression on his face, flashing her a kind smile with cold, blue eyes staring directly at hers, with dark patches underneath. His head was shaved completely bald, and he was indeed holding a knife, larger than any she'd seen before.

He reminded her vaguely of a bigger version of Smeagol from The Lord of The Rings books and movies, with his very human facial features placed in a strange juxtapostion to the rest of his very inhuman body. He crouched down to get on her eye level, and completed the comparison between the fictional former hobbit in the way his knees jutted out to the sides, as he balanced his body on his bare toes.

But as more and more features of his body became clear to her in the darkness, she quickly realized that he was far more horrifying than Smeagol.

Scars were littering nearly every available space on his body, thin lines stretching along his thin skin in rows of four with a fifth one intersecting them.

Tally marks.

They were everywhere, on his bare chest, his arms, even some visible on the little skin she could see beneath his pant leg, and four big, deep gashes were displayed proudly across his forehead.

She lifted her hand to her mouth to suppress a gasp.

He kept staring at her, eyes gliding across her body, unperturbed by her look of horror as he seemed to be taking in her body.

"You're beautiful." He said at last, smiling at her.

She looked down, and realized in shock that her legs were spread beneath her dress in a very compromising position. Unable to drown out a loud sob, she hurried to cross her limbs, to block the view she was sure he was getting of her.

What's he going to do to me?!

He frowned slightly at seeing her movement, but it didn't seem like he was disappointed, just... concerned.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, you misunderstand my intentions, Miss." He said, in a distraught voice. "I am not one of those... depraved miscreants, who prey on young women such as yourself. You haven't a thing to fear from me."

This didn't exactly ease her nerves as she kept up her wide-eyed stare at him, afraid to take her eyes off of him even for as long as a blink.

"How about we exchange names?" He said, smile creeping back on his face. "I feel that always helps me get closer to people, how about you?"

Even if Yuri knew how to respond, she doubted she would be able to find her voice.

"I'll start." He said, still keeping up that smile, possibly to show that he fully understood her fear. "My name, is Victor Zsasz. But you may call me Vic. And what might your name be?"

Zsasz looked expectantly at her, and Yuri tried opening her mouth to respond, terrified of angering him by keeping silent, but instead of words, a pathetic, highpitched girly whimper emerged, filling her up with despair.

"Shh. It's okay." Zsasz said, and reached a bony hand over to stroke her cheek, and brush aside some of her long, purple hair from the front of her face. She flinched at his touch. "Try taking in some deep breaths, and go at your own tempo. I know this is probably very stressful for you."

She tried following his advice, taking a couple of shaky breaths, before trying to speak again.

"Y-Y-Yuri." She managed to whisper.

"Yuri? What a pretty name." He said, and it seemed as if he meant it, with the way his eyes lit up in joy at hearing her voice. "Pretty name for a pretty girl. So, Yuri, how are you today?"

Gathering up the very little amount of courage she had left, Yuri chanced to speak up once again, hoping her voice wouldn't crack.

"A-are y-you going t-to k-k-k-" She swallowed. "-kill me?"

Zsasz lowered his head a bit, shadows darkening his expression. When he looked up again, his smile looked a lot more sad than before.

"Yes. I'm afraid that will ultimately be the unavoidable outcome of this encounter, Yuri. I'm sorry."

Yuri once again had to raise her hands to her face in order to muffle her own cries.

She was going to die. She was going to die by the hands of this madman, alone in an alley, with nobody coming to save her.

"But this is why I brought you in here, Yuri." Zsasz said, and she felt her head being raised to meet his eyes by a soft finger on her chin. "I wanted to get the chance to explain to you why I'm going to do this for you. Why it's necessary. So you can understand that this is really me doing you a favor, and then maybe, when I finally run my knife through you, you can rest easy knowing that this is all for the best, really."

She kept silent, staring at him. She knew she wasn't exactly the best when it came to contributing to conversations, but she liked to think other people would have trouble coming up with a response to that as well.

"I know what you're thinking." Zsasz went on. "That I'm just another lunatic, like the other criminal lowlifes in this city, no different from the clown or the reptile man or any of the others in their colourful costumes. But I'm not. Where they are agents of chaos and mayhem, my quest is a noble one. You see, I am humanity's saviour."

His eyes gained a dreamy look, clearly filled up with inspiration as he continued his speech.

"Humanity is rotten, Yuri. It's unsalvageable. We work our whole lives, trying desperately to gain an advantage over everyone else, trying to get what we've convinced ourselves has value, like cars, clothes, fame, success, money. We strive to get as many of these material objects as we possibly can, and for what? What does it all amount to?"

He looked expectantly at Yuri, who had no idea if the question was rhetorical, or if he actually wanted her to answer.

"Nothing, Yuri." He continued, confirming to her that it was the former. "No matter how much we claw towards ourselves with our greedy hands, we'll all eventually die, and it will all have been for nothing. Don't you see? We've been taught to cling on to life with everything we have, to get some semblance of control to our meaningless existance, but the truth is that none of us has any control. We all secretly crave death, but we've convinced ourselves that we don't. But that's okay. I don't blame you, Yuri, or anyone else for believing in what you've been taught your whole lives."

Zsasz raised his knife, and Yuri could see her own reflection in the blank surface of the blade. She thought she didn't look as scared as she felt inside.

"This," Zsasz said, and gestured to the knife. "This is my offer to humanity. This is control, a way to liberate ourselves from the misery early, and I am its willing tool. I am the hero who will free us all, and you, Yuri, are the latest lucky winner."

He's insane. Yuri thought, and a feeling of hopelessness washed over her. Maybe if she could get an hour or two to clear her head and calm down, she could construct a good counter argument to why life wasn't worthless, and make it convincing too. But as of right now, her head was spinning endlessly, making her dizzy from all the stress of this situation, the lingering despair from the party earlier, and the intruding coldness from all around her. There was no way she would ever be able to come up with something to save her life, with a man this fanatically convinced that he was right.

But still, she had to at least try.

She gathered every last remaining bit of courage she could find, putting it into raising her hand, as if this was merely a question the teacher had asked for the class in school, that she had the answer for.

"Yes?" Zsasz acknowledged her, and like her teachers, he looked overjoyed at having her contribute to the conversation.

"M- Mr. Zsasz?" Her throat felt dry, and she attempted to swallow some nonexistant spit to lubricate it. "I- I have a q-question."

"Ask away, my dear, ask away. And please, call me Vic."

"R-right, sorry. V- Vic, you s-say that you're d- doing humanity a f- favor, by k- killing us quickly. B- b- but what about y- yourself? Y- you can't h- hope to ever be able t- to make a serious d- dent in our population, with j- just you and a knife. Is- isn't your life meaningless as w- well?"

It was the best argument she could come up with on such short notice and her current state of mind, but to her despair she saw Zsasz's smile widen, showcasing crooked, yellow teeth.

"Excellent point, Yuri!" He exclaimed, and she flinched as he reached forwards to pat her head appreciatively. "I knew you were an intelligent girl from the moment I laid eyes on you. You're right, of course, my point can seem a bit hypocritical to some at first glance. But as you can see from the marks across my body, I've helped a great many people realize their true potential, and it's the knowledge that however small it may seem in the long run, I am making a positive impact that keeps me going. My own life matters not, I readily realize and accept that, and by the time my inevitable demise arrives, I shall embrace it with open arms. But before that, I'll make sure to take as many unfortunate souls like you with me as I am able."

Yuri stared at him, lost for words yet again. It seemed as if Zsasz took it to mean she was confused by something he'd said.

"I take it you're wondering about these scars, and their meaning?" He gestured to the carved tally marks all over his body. He didn't wait for her to respond, before going on. "It's my way of honouring the brave men, women and children who were lucky enough to give their lives for my cause."

Yuri hadn't thought it was possible for her to get anymore shocked or disgusted, but this man had somehow managed to constantly one-up himself throughout this entire conversation.

"A-are they all...?" She started, but was unable to finish as the realization dawned on her.

"I make one for every life I take." Zsasz said in a contemplative voice, idly running his fingers over a few of the scars. "It's my way to ensure their sacrifice will always be remembered. Each mark symbolizes another step towards the ultimate upcoming salvation."

"D-doesn't it h-hurt?" Yuri asked in quiet incomprehension. She couldn't even imagine doing something like this to herself over and over again like he clearly had.

Zsasz looked at her thoughtfully.

"Yes. It hurts every time, but it's necessary, Yuri. If not for the pain, I wouldn't be paying proper respect to the souls I free. It's because of the pain that I am able to remember the names of each and every one of them. And if some of them fade away over time, I need only to open up one of them again, to instantly recall them. And just like everyone else here, I will make sure to treasure your mark, Yuri. I promise you that. Look!"

He pointed a thin finger towards four vertical scars right on the top side of the left side of his chest, tracing a line through them.

"This is where you'll be!" He said, with the same tone of voice as that of a parent hyping up Santa coming down the chimney on Christmas. "You'll be the one to end this particular cycle, before it starts all over again! Aren't you lucky?!"

Reminded once again of her rapidly approaching doom coming ever closer towards her, Yuri couldn't help it. She burst into tears yet again, without being able to stop herself from crying.

I'm going to die.

"Oh, Yuri." Zsasz said sadly, and she felt his cold finger stroking away the tears from her cheeks. "Don't be upset. It's really not as bad as you think. Aren't you tired? I was watching you from afar, when you were hiding from the rain in that bus stop. You didn't look very happy, and I could tell something bad happened today. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling this happens pretty often to you?"

A few sobs escaped her mouth as she looked up at Zsasz in surprise at his deduction, seeing him still smiling that seemingly kind grin, although she could tell now that it wasn't even close to reaching his dead, blue-eyed stare.

"It feels awful, doesn't it?" He asked, voice full of sympathy. "The utter hopelessness that comes with having a bad day, the feeling of the whole world being against you. Is it worth it, Yuri? How many more bad days do you think you'll be able to take, feeling like this? Wouldn't it be better to just... let go, and not have to worry about feeling like that anymore? I offer you an easy way out, Yuri. A way where you won't have to deal with loss, or heartbreak, ever again."

Yuri couldn't help thinking his words over despite herself. It was true that even before this man had forcefully inserted himself into her life, she'd been feeling pretty down, and not just because of the debacle with Caleb. She wasn't sure she enjoyed being friendless, an outsider. Sometimes it did come in handy, but sometimes she wished she could stop being such an anxious wreck, who even though she thought her hair was getting way too long, was too afraid of the reaction a haircut would get from the other students, not to mention just going to the hairdresser in the first place to describe how she wanted it cut.

Was that any way to live, being in this constant state of fear, anxiety and nerves?

She'd made so many mistakes in her life, most recently with Caleb, and the results had been devastating. And based on her past, she was sure she would find another boy where she would probably screw up everything yet again. Wasn't she better off just accepting Zsasz's offer, to put an end to this suffering?

No.

She didn't have to entertain the thought for long before another side of her, stronger than she'd ever thought herself capable of being, took hold of her. She couldn't decide life wasn't worth living based on a few bad boyfriend experiences alone. There were plenty more fish in the sea, so to speak, and if she could just get over herself, and actually try talking to the people in her school, she had no doubt that she could find a new one in a heartbeat. And even if every single last one of them turned out as a gut-wrenching breakup, so what? There was way more to her life than trying to find a boyfriend, and she could not, would not, let simple crushes define her existence.

She looked up to stare directly into the eyes of the mass-murderer in front of her, refusing to blink.

"I want to live." She said, surprising herself by how fearless she sounded, even as the tears continued to stream down her face. "I don't want to die."

Victor Zsasz widened his eyes in surprise, before sighing.

"Disappointing." Zsasz said. "But not unexpected. I understand you're afraid, Yuri. It's not easy to let go of the built in instinct one has to fear death. I get it. You're probably scared of the pain, of how much my knife will hurt you."

"T-that's not it! I- I just don't w-want to die!" Yuri exclaimed, despair grabbing hold of her mind again as her newly gained confidence drained away as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her alone with the all too familiar fear. She started crying again, as it seemed like Zsasz was just completely ignoring her.

"You have nothing to fear, Yuri. Here, I'll show you. Help you understand what I mean. Look."

With some effort, Yuri managed to wipe away enough tears to be able to see the horrible man in front of her somewhat clearly. Her eyes widened as she saw him raise the tip of his blade towards the four scars he'd just showed her.

"Pay close attention, Yuri." He said kindly, then slowly dragged the knife through them.

Yuri felt sick, she wanted to puke, but she couldn't look away. It felt terrible, seeing the knife puncture the skin, drawing a big, red line across it, with red liquid protuding freely, and dripping plentily down his torso, staining it in scarlet.

But she couldn't avert her eyes no matter how hard she tried, her morbid curiosity getting the better of her.

The mark having been made, Zsasz lifted the blade from his skin, breathing heavily.

"Ahh." He sighed, and Yuri could hear downright pleasure from his exhale, could see his blue eyes roll around madly before they once again focused on her.

"And now, it's your turn." He reached down, and she felt his cold hand grab hold of her wrist, pulling her bare arm up towards himself. "Try to keep an open mind. You might discover something surprising about yourself."

"W-wait, w-what are you do-" She started, confused about what his intentions were, feeling uncomfortable as she always did when other people touched her without warning, before Zsasz raised his knife high into the air, and, before she had a chance to properly understand the situation and react accordingly to it, he quickly plunged the blade down, making contact and penetrating the skin of her arm.

To her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she expected, feeling the cold steel deep below her skin, getting dragged by Zsasz in a rough, forceful line through her flesh. She couldn't even describe what it really felt like, even if she tried.

That didn't stop her from throwing caution to the wind, ignore Zsasz's warning of the consequenses, and scream as loudly as she was able.

The sight alone felt so wrong, seeing the tip of the blade disappear into her limb, observing the rivers of blood already bursting forth, trickling down the sides of her arm. It was a sight she'd never wanted to see done to anyone, especially not herself, but it had the same hypnotic effect on her that Zsasz's cut did, making it impossible to look away while hearing her own shrill scream in her ears, echoing against the walls of the buildings in the alleyway.

Zsasz tried speaking, but his voice was easily drowned out by Yuri's volume, which surprised even her.

And then, Zsasz at last decided to put an abrupt end to the noise by once again pressing his hand against her mouth, forcing her to look away from her mutilated arm, and stare into his icy eyes once more.

"A pity." He whispered to her, his voice filled with silent fury as he turned his head from side to side. "I did so enjoy talking to you, and I had hoped you could have been a bit more mature about what I was trying to show you, but alas. I trust you recall what I said would happen, should you scream?"

He raised his knife once again. Yuri found herself unable to really care much.

The world around her seemed to blur and spin around her, making it incredibly hard to focus on what was going on around her, and what was even real. Even Zsasz's voice didn't seem like he was right in front of her, sounding muffled, ethereal and far away. Maybe this really was nothing but a dream she would wake up from in a moment's notice.

Her arm was beginning to tingle weirdly.

It really didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, getting stabbed. She thought, deliriously.

Was this what going into shock felt like? Or maybe she was already dying from the bloodloss. Seemed weird to do that from the relatively minor injury she'd been exposed to, but it wasn't like she was an expert on medical stuff.

Her eyelids felt so heavy, and she could hardly even feel the cold anymore. Couldn't she just go to sleep already?

"Goodbye, Yuri." Zsasz said, sounding miles away still. "A shame it had to end this way, but I shall forever treasure your sacrifice, and remember you fondly. You have my word."

With some effort, she opened her eyes enough to somewhat focus on Zsasz again. If this really was real, she felt disappointed that the last thing she saw would be his hideous face with those four gashes in his forehead and the psychotic, merciless blue eyes, but oh well.

Then, a slight movement from behind Zsasz made her open her eyes some more, and try to focus.

What... what am I looking at?

It was like watching something straight out of a nightmare, seeing the black figure emerge soundlessly from the shadows behind Zsasz, like a demon from Hell.

Its movements were smooth, looking like it was made of the shadows themselves, blending in with the black environment perfectly before she could make out something of a distinctive shape as it approached them steadily from behind.

It was vaguely humanoid, but only slightly. While it had the build of a rather large man, she could clearly see the glowing, empty white eyes of something obviously inhuman. She'd been surprisingly right on the money with the demon comparison, as she could clearly see long, pointed horns jutting straight upwards from the figure's head.

It was standing right next to Zsasz now, who was slowly raising his knife, still speaking in that muffled voice she couldn't even hear anymore, getting ready to plunge it straight into her body, oblivious to the being of living shadow right behind him. Maybe she was the only person who could see it? Was this the creature that had come to escort her soul to wherever it would go after her body died, having arrived early to watch? Was she looking at Death itself?

Then, it spoke up, and she found that she could hear clearly again, taking in its deep, masculine voice.

"Get the hell away from her, Zsasz."

Shock and fear washed over Zsasz's face, as he flung his head backwards, taking in the large figure behind him.

"No!" He yelled in frustration, and lunged at the figure with his knife, moving so fast his arm was a blur, but clearly not fast enough as the figure intercepted it with little effort, grabbing hold of the murderer's wrist with a gauntleted hand, before pushing away Zsasz so hard, he collided against the wall of the building on the opposite end of the alleyway.

Zsasz was already getting to his feet again, swiftly recovering from the impact, and somehow having managed to maintain his grip on the knife. He was breathing heavily, staring at the figure in barely contained anger.

The figure calmly turned around to face him, and Yuri noticed a long, jagged cape, as black as the rest of its body from the figure's shoulders, moving along with him, flowing softly above the ground.

"You almost got away, Zsasz." The figure said in that calm, modulated voice, showing that it had no concern about the killer staring it down. "You know how to cover your tracks, and though I knew you had to be somewhere in this area from your last victim, it's unlikely I would have ever found you."

Zsasz released a primal, angry yell, charging at the caped figure like a bull, with his knife raised, but the figure swiftly moved out of his path, and instead of making contact with the figure like he intended, all he got was a fist to his face, making him fall to the ground with a groan.

Rising again with some effort, Yuri saw that Zsasz's nose was bleeding.

"You shouldn't have gone for this girl. It was stupid for someone who's normally as careful as you." The figure spoke again, in the same tone of voice, taunting him. "Too risky. You couldn't hope to control her well enough, and because of that mistake, you're done here."

"Get away from me, Batman!" Zsasz snarled, but there was something like a desperate pleading in his tone of voice as well. Yuri realized he was terrified. "I need to save this poor woman from her own meaningless existence!"

"You don't even believe that yourself, Zsasz." The figure that Yuri now knew to be the infamous vigilante of her city, said. She hadn't even been sure if he'd been real before, and here he was, standing right in front of her. "You're nothing more than a sadistic serial killer with masochistic tendencies. You got addicted to cutting marks into your own body, so you made up some inane, nihilistic reasoning to tell your victims, trying to convince yourself as much as them that you're serving some higher purpose, instead of being the lowly street rat you so clearly are."

"I already made the mark!" Zsasz screamed, and began making a desperate break straight for Yuri, his eyes wide and deranged. "I need to kill her!"

Batman easily intercepted him before he got close, knocking the air from his chest with a kick to his stomach.

The force of his boot was enough to make Zsasz loose his grip on the knife, making it fly through the air, landing with a loud clanging on the ground right next to Yuri. She stared at it in surprise, before she automatically reached down to pick it up, and hide it in her purse.

At least now he can't use it against Batman. She justified her action in her head.

Not that it looked like the Dark Knight really needed the advantage.

Zsasz was on his knees, reeling from the kick, trying to push air into his lungs with rattling breaths. He was still staring Yuri directly in the eyes, but it didn't look as if he was physically capable of going after her again.

That didn't exactly ease her nerves, however.

Batman started approaching him from behind, forcefully pushing the defeated killer forward, positioning him to lie face down on the ground. Zsasz let it happen, without resisting.

"The mark..." Zsasz muttered madly. "I already made the mark, Batman. The cycle has been ended prematurely. There's a mistake permanently staining my body, my temple..."

"I don't care." Batman said harshly, contempt in his otherwise calm voice, as he bent down to cuff Zsasz's arms. "Your body is littered in nothing but mistakes."

Zsasz didn't respond to that, instead starting to sob in grief against the ground his head was resting on. Like a child, denied of his wishes by a stern parent. He didn't seem as scary now, only... pitiful.

"Get up." Batman said, dragging the killer to stand upwards, and then pushing him forwards, out of the alleyway with his hand on the man's neck, disappearing from Yuri's view, making everything around her deadly quiet.

She should probably get up, away from here. As she'd just been made forcefully aware of, it was dangerous to be out on the streets of Gotham this late, and she knew there were plenty of types like Zsasz around, lurking in the shadows.

But it was like she'd forgotten how to move her own body, the shock of being in this whole situation and living through it having seemingly paralyzed her every limb. She would be powerless against anyone who would come this way to find her, especially now that her protector had left.

A throbbing in her arm interrupted her from her thoughts, and she looked down only to be met with the straight, bleeding line on her arm. It was hard for her to think that mess of blood and gore was a part of her now.

A faint rustling nearby made her look up, and her heart jumped straight into her throat when she saw Batman directly in front of her, staring down at her with those empty, glowing eyes, his return having been so quiet that it was only the faint sound of his cape in the air that had alerted her to his presence.

He still looked like a demon to her, shrouded in black shadows, the horns jutting sharply upwards.

But then he lowered himself slowly to her eye level, and she saw the bright yellow outline surrounding a stylized black bat stretched across his dark gray chest. What was more, she now saw that only the outside of his cape, the part of it that she'd seen with his back to her, was black as the darkest night. But the inside of it, the part she could see now, was surprisingly... purple. A very dark, and faded shade of purple, but still unmistakably purple.

Her favorite colour.

The realization that the man wasn't just clad in the intimidating color of pure blackness as she'd thought filled her with enough courage to look at his face to see that despite the scary, monstrous look of the cowl with the horns and the glowing eyes, a very normal, very human chin was clearly visible from below it, and as she saw the thin lips of his mouth, it was as if her fear washed away from her.

He's a normal human. A normal human who's going to help me.

"Are you okay?" He asked, not employing the hard voice he'd used against Zsasz, but instead a softer voice, filled with worry.

Yuri merely stared at him in response.

This is the part where you're supposed to answer him, Yuri. She thought, her accusing, frustrated thoughts echoing against her head. Say "Yes, Mr. Batman, I'm fine, thanks for asking." Don't just glare at him like an idiot.

Yuri opened her mouth to say something that would hopefully make her seem as smart and intelligent as people kept insisting she was, while at the same time portraying herself as a dignified and capable strong woman.

"Yuh- you're Buh- Batman?"

Well, there went that opportunity. Where was the nearest hole she could crawl into and die from embarrassment?

Mercifully, the man refrained from commenting on her braindead outburst, instead tilting his head towards her injured arm. His mouth seemed to tighten in anger.

"I'm sorry I didn't prevent this."

Yuri blinked. How could any of this be perceived as even vaguely his fault? It was her who'd foolishly decided to traverse the dark streets of Gotham so late, even after she'd heard of all the dangers this endeavor would entail.

Batman reached behind himself, and procured a waterbottle from seemingly out of nowhere while taking hold of Yuri's arm with his other hand. For some reason she didn't mind it when he touched her. Perhaps because she knew, instinctually, that she could trust him completely?

"Your cut isn't that bad, all things considered." He said, as he inspected the wound, and began unscrewing the cap on the bottle. "I think Zsasz just wanted to show you what it felt like, that in his twisted mind it could make you understand his actions. It's shallow, and shouldn't be too serious if cleaned properly."

He tipped the bottle, and Yuri shivered as the cold liquid washed over her arm, clearing the blood away, leaving only the glistening red line which she now could see was a lot smaller and thinner than she'd thought.

"You must have surprised him by screaming." Batman said, and reached into a compartment on the yellow belt he wore around his waist, aquiring a smaller, brown bottle. He looked up, the empty eyes of his cowl making contact with hers. "It was a very brave thing you did, risking his anger to call for help. Most people wouldn't have done the same."

Yuri averted her eyes from his, blushing in embarrassment. Sure they would. She didn't feel very brave for screaming her head off the moment she felt pain, which now turned out to be even less serious than she'd thought.

She heard the gentle pop of another cap being pulled off, and looked up again.

"I'm going to apply some Iodine to the cut, just to be completely sure it's clean before I wrap it up." Batman said. "This might sting a little."

The moment he applied it, she felt a burning sensation surge through her arm, and grit her teeth to avoid crying out in front of Batman, who had enough to worry about at the moment without having to deal with a crybaby like her.

Finally, he started wrapping up the wound with a roll of bandages which had also been taken from the belt that Yuri was starting to understand was a lot more spacious than it looked.

"That's the best I can do for now." The Caped Crusader stated, and helped Yuri to her feet again. Said feet felt unsure on the ground after having been dormant for so long, and she was thankful for the hand he was keeping on her shoulder to prevent her from collapsing. "As long as you make sure to change the bandages every other day or so, you should be good. You should expect it to leave a scar, however."

Yuri wanted to thank him, show her gratitude to the towering hero by her side, who had done so much for her, truly going above and beyond what was necessary after saving her life.

But even if she thought she could trust herself to say anything intelligible, it hardly mattered as she found herself completely speechless. Her mind was like a vast library filled up with millions of great, beautiful words from all the books she'd read in her life, and yet she couldn't find a single one capable of describing the raw emotions she was experiencing right now. It felt like she was going to burst from keeping them bottled up like this, unless she found a way to express them right now.

She did something very sudden and spontaneous, both of which she wasn't known for, and would have been downright frightened if anyone tried doing it to her.

She threw her arms around Batman, hugging him tight.

He seemed to freeze up at her embrace, probably as surprised as she was at her own unpredictable reaction.

She pressed the side of her head against the smooth surface of the bat emblem on his chest, closing her eyes as she took in the various textures of his suit against her skin, and reveled in the fact that she for once wasn't taller than the individual she was hugging, something she hadn't experienced since the last time she'd hugged her parents.

He somewhat awkwardly placed his arms around her as well, and she started crying again, not from fear since she at this moment felt safer and more secure than she'd ever been in her entire life, but just from being this overwhelmed emotionally.

"Th- thank you!" Yuri managed to blurt out between sobs. "Th- thank you so, s- so, much!"

He didn't respond, which she was thankful for. Instead, he just stood still and kept his arms around her for a few minutes, before they finally separated again.

"You shouldn't be out here on the streets this late." He said after a few seconds, no hint in his voice of the moment they'd just shared. "It's not safe."

"I know." Yuri said, lowering her head in shame, and fidgeted a bit with her hair like she'd used to do when her dad would chastise her for doing something wrong. "I'm sorry."

"How far away do you live?"

She told him.

"Hm. That's some distance to walk in this weather, dressed like that." He said, making her blush. She probably seemed like such a stereotypical irresponsible party girl to him. "How about I give you a ride?"

She looked up in shock at the prospect of being in the same car as the Batman, once again speechless.

"Come on." Batman said, waving a hand to signal for her to follow him out of the alleyway. "I'll feel better if I see you get home safely, and that's not likely to happen if you continue going the way you were. Even if you manage to avoid more muggers, it'll be the pneumonia that gets you."

She obeyed, staying a little behind his flapping cape as he led her out of the alleyway and into the light of the street where she'd been before Zsasz had grabbed her. She noted the colourful mush of dissolved cupcake in the puddle where she'd dropped it, the red-frosted words long gone. Yuri's stomach growled a bit, mourning the fact that she'd never even gotten to taste it.

Then, she looked up and gasped when she saw what was parked at the side of the road right in front of her, the wasted cupcake immediately forgotten.

Yuri knew nothing about cars, had never been interested in the mechanics of them, or models, or anything of that sort. As long as they could manage to drive her places, it didn't even matter to her if it was a tiny, compact two-person electric car, or a limosine. She just didn't care about them at all.

And even she could tell that the Batmobile was something else entirely.

It almost looked alive, with the way it was humming faintly, front lights painting the road bright orange. It was longer than any car she'd seen before, which made her wonder how exactly it handled the sharp turns that undoubtedly came up in Batman's line of work, if the rumors she'd heard were correct.

The Batmobile was coated in black all over, the metal clean and blank to the point of being shiny, and Yuri caught her own awed expression reflected back at her. She noted the two giant fins jutting out at the back end of it, shaped liked that of a bat's wings, and miniature versions of his chest emblem were embedded in the middle of the wheels, which by all means should have looked really silly, but it somehow worked.

Yuri had never been one to be impressed by flashy, expensive looking cars, but even she had to admit that this beast-like contraption was equal parts slick, elegant, imposing and just plain cool.

And she was going to ride in it. With Batman!

A loud whoosh emerging from the Batmobile startled her, making her flinch as the black-toned windows and ceiling in the middle of the car slid back smoothly, revealing two black seats right behind a mess of glowing buttons and a stylized bat-shaped steering wheel at the front of the left seat.

Batman gestured for her to take her seat at the right side, and she rather awkwardly raised a shaky leg to get inside the doorless cockpit, scared of accidently scraping against the outside with her shoes. In the back of her mind she thought about the childhood warning against getting in cars with strange men, but it was completely absurd to even consider that rule applying to Batman and the Batmobile, so naturally she ignored it.

Once she'd settled herself in the lush black leather seat, Batman effortlessly slid in as well in one smooth, fluid motion. As the ceiling with the windows slid down upon them once more, she felt the shocking sensation of automatic seatbelts sliding over her, securing her body and scaring her half to death.

Yuri felt the vibrations of the motor roaring to life, saw the faint glowing of the buttons on the dashboard became the only light source in the small cabin, and felt her body being tilted back against the seat by the forward momentum of the car moving.

Yuri carefully placed her hands firmly on her knees in an effort to keep herself from touching anything, and looked out the window to see the surroundings of the city zoom by at great speed.

A strange, unfamiliar sensation took hold of her as she observed the blurred cityscape from the windows, and she soon realized that for the first time since... tonight? No, ever since she'd gotten that party invite really, she felt calm. Her heart was beating at a steady pace instead of hammering against her chest, her hands were perfectly steady, resting on her knees. The faint vibrations and white noise from the small bumps in the road served as a great way to keep her normally speeding thoughts at bay, and it was incredibly relaxing to be able to just sit, and not have to worry about anything like her fear of the dangers lurking in the city.

She was in the Batmobile, right next to the Batman himself. She doubted if even the President in the White House could boast of being in a safer space than she was right now, and she started feeling the shadow of a smile creep over her face.

She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt as calm and at peace as she was now. It was... nice.

Then, the smile turned into a frown once she began feeling the itchiness of the cut underneath her bandaged arm. Now that the adrenaline pumping through her body since she'd been dragged into that alley was wearing off, it was really starting to become apparent just how uncomfortable it was, having the wound.

It was downright unbearable, actually, feeling the throbbing against the tight bandages, and she moved her other hand to fidget a bit with the white material, trying to make them a bit looser in order to keep the irritation at bay...

She gasped silently once she felt the unexpected sensation of a gloved hand's gentle, but firm grip around her wrist, effectively putting a stop to her fidgeting, and she turned her head to see Batman, not even looking at her even as he'd reached out to grab her.

"You should leave the bandages be for now." He said kindly, still not a hint of blame, annoyance or sternness in his voice. He loosened the grip around her wrist, and retracted his arm. "You'll risk contaminating the wound if you disturb it too much."

Yuri nodded to show she understood, and felt her face grow red hot in embarrassment. He was right, it had been foolish of her to try tampering with them, no matter how uncomfortable they felt. She was supposed to be smarter than that.

She rubbed a bit at her wrist, the shock of feeling Batman's touch there still lingering idly. She looked over at the man.

It was such a welcome change from the norm, to have someone drive her who didn't try to start all sorts of small talk she would struggle to respond to. It was nice for once to not feel pressured to contribute with her own poor conversational skills.

She let her eyes drift over her savior, drinking in every detail of him. To imagine that she'd actually thought him to be a demon when she'd first laid eyes on him. It was clear to her now that he had zero intentions to harm her or any other innocent people, and that his terrifying look was meant for the criminals only.

She could feel deep admiration for him swirling inside her, making her heart beat just a little faster as she remembered how calm he'd been earlier talking to Zsasz, not raising his voice one bit when they'd fought.

She could really appreciate the stoicism of him, looking at his neutral mouth expression, taking in the sharp jawline and cheekbones visible beneath the cowl.

Her gaze then drifted downwards, away from his face, where she started examining the huge biceps of his arms holding onto the steering wheel, noted how impressive his muscles were, bulging visibly beneath his suit, and felt a strong desire for him to touch her again...

She quickly snapped her head back to stare robotically out of the window once she recognized the all too familiar feeling inside her chest, and tried to will her breathing and heartbeat back to the relaxed state she'd been in before, refusing to look back at Batman for even a second.

Stop it. Get a hold of yourself, Yuri. She chastised herself mentally. You are NOT developing a crush on BATMAN of all people!

If she'd been red in the face before, she was positive her face had to be almost glowing scarlet now, feeling how searing hot it was. She was thankful for the darkness of the car hiding her flushed expression from the would-be person of her desires.

This was even worse than the crush she'd had on her teacher. She tried desperately to think of something, anything else to distract herself, since even ignoring how utterly insane it was of her to even think about Batman that way, getting attracted to another person this soon after Caleb, was just her being a glutton for punishment.

Then, at long last, a thought struck her. A thing she'd been idly wondering about for a while now, that thankfully had nothing to do with her treacherous heart.

She leaned her head back to look around, but it seemed these two seats were the only compartment of the car as her eyes met nothing but wall.

"Uhm. E- excuse me." She started, hesitating as she wondered if she even wanted to know the answer to this question.

Batman said nothing, keeping his unsettling empty-eyed glowing gaze locked on the road in front of him as he drove. Yuri decided despite herself to keep going.

"W- what did you d- do to, uhm." She swallowed. "Z- Zsasz?"

"He's fastly secured in the back." Batman spoke, his voice as calm as it had been throughout all of this.

Yuri's eyes widened, and she looked around again in panic, as if she expected her would-be killer's face would suddenly come into view.

"H- he's in here with us?!" She whispered in disbelief.

"The back of the car is heavily fortified, to the point where not even a missile could penetrate it." Batman said. "It's completely soundproof, too, so he can't hear any of what we're saying. An alarm will go off if he somehow breaks out of his restraints, and I'm monitoring his every movement through a live feed in my cowl. Once I drop you home safe, I'm taking him straight to Arkham."

His reassurances did nothing to calm Yuri's nerves. What should have been the biggest moment of her life was tainted horribly by the knowledge that she was sharing space with someone like Zsasz, and nothing could change that, no matter how many precautions Batman said he'd taken.

"Arkham? Y- you're just taking him back to that place?" Her voice sounded shrill, and she couldn't quite manage to keep out the hint of blame in it. "H- he won't face a- any consequences f- for his crimes?"

Batman tilted his head slightly to the side, as if giving her a sideways glance.

"It won't be without consequences." He said. "He's going to be locked up in heavy isolation, monitored 24/7 inside one of the most secure locations in Gotham City. I will provide some of my own tech to make sure he stays in there this time, and do everything in my power to make sure he never sees the light of day again. Victor Zsasz will face justice, and I promise you he won't ever hurt you again."

Yuri looked out of the front window again, fighting back tears. She didn't want to argue with anyone, least of all her saviour who had done so much for her already. Still, she couldn't help but think Batman was being incredibly naive.

How often had she seen the news articles of lunatics being put in Arkham only to escape a few months, or sometimes even weeks later? The reports on The Joker alone probably racked up in the hundreds. How many times would they have to break out, how many people would they hurt, before they realized that locking them up wasn't a lasting solution?

"Y- you could have ended it tonight." She muttered, her voice little more than a whisper. "You c- could have put a stop to him, permanently."

Generally, Yuri liked to look for the best in people, even if she hadn't personally experienced a lot of it, since it was hardly fair for a person as asocial as her to judge another, normal person. She liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and did believe in self-improvement and redemption, before jumping to any of the more drastic punishments.

But at the same time... she'd seen the marks on Zsasz's body, each one showcasing an innocent life having been laid to waste by his hands. She'd seen the complete lack of regret on his face when he'd talked about his actions, and she knew that for some people, people like him, helping wasn't an option. There was only one working way to put a stop to the suffering these people inflicted.

"That's not my call to make." Batman said simply. "Victor Zsasz is a very sick man, and the doctors will do their best to get him the help he needs at the Asylum."

Yuri didn't know what was going on with her, how she kept wanting to argue with him when normally she hardly even dared to raise her hand in class. It was like being in this car, side by side with a living urban legend was filling her up with confidence and a sense of empowerment, even if it was somewhat tainted by the presence of Zsasz behind them.

It was an incredibly freeing feeling, and yet terrifying at the same time.

"D- do you really think s- someone like him can be h- helped?" Yuri asked.

"No." He said, and if it wasn't her imagination playing tricks on her, Yuri thought she could see his glowing eyes narrow a bit, see as his fists tightened around the steering wheel. "I've known Zsasz for some time now, and I can honestly say that I don't think there's any hope of redemption for him. He's too far gone for any help to reach."

Yuri swallowed. She had probably overstayed her welcome by interrogating him like this, but she had to know.

"T- then why?" She asked in a whisper. "Why let him continue living?"

"It's not my call to make, to decide who deserves to die." Batman repeated, keeping his eyes dead set on the road. "It can't ever be my call to make. The best I can do is make sure I save as many people I can from danger, and bring in the monsters responsible, but I can't be their executioner. Because once I cross that line..."

He hesitated, then turned his head to look directly at her, his empty white eyes meeting hers.

"...I won't be able to come back from it."

He turned his head to the road ahead again, and nothing but white noise could be heard next. Yuri turned her head as well to look out the window, her heart pounding after hearing his words.

She thought she could understand his reasoning now. She wouldn't say she necessarily agreed with Batman, but she understood, and respected it enough to end their discussion like this, as she tried to just enjoy what remained of the ride.

Which didn't turn out to be very much, as all too soon the Batmobile took a turn into her neighborhood, and she could see her house in the distance.

"This is where you live, right?" Batman asked, speaking up for the first time since the end of their argument.

"Y- yes. Just up ahead." Yuri said.

The Batmobile slowed down to a stop right next to her driveway, and she took a deep breath as the roof of the car slid away, letting her breathe in the cold night air once more. It was a good thing it was late enough for her neighbors to turn the lights in their homes off, so they wouldn't see Batman on their street.

Yuri wanted to stay in the calming seat of the car, but got up regardless, struggling to climb out of it. When she looked to her side, she saw Batman already stood by her fence, having gotten out completely soundlessly.

He spoke up when she approached him.

"Are your parents home?"

"No, they're... gone. I live alone." She said quietly and looked at her feet. She'd mostly gotten over the pain of them dying years ago, but it still left a lingering sense of mourning whenever someone brought them up.

"I'm sorry." Batman said, and there was something in his voice that convinced her that he meant it. Too often had she heard those words with no sympathy behind them whatsoever, so it meant a lot to her when she got the real deal.

That didn't give her the knowledge on how to respond to them any better however, and so she merely nodded.

"Here." He said, and Yuri looked up to see Batman handing her a white card. She hesitantly reached out to take it, and read the big, bold letters:

DR. LESLIE THOMPKINS' CLINIC

There was a phone number, address and a bat symbol beneath it.

"If you ever feel the need to... talk, about what happened to you tonight, I urge you to visit her. Just hand her this card, and she'll understand everything."

Yuri nodded again, but mentally she'd already decided not to do anything of the sort. She didn't like doctors very much, and wanted nothing more than to forget this night ever happened, instead of reliving it with anyone. She put the card in her purse.

"Stay safe. Don't go around Gotham at night again." Batman turned to leave for the car again.

Yuri looked after him. Already she could feel the anxiety return to her, the confidence she'd gotten in the car swiftly leaving her body. This would be her last chance to do this, since it would be extremely improbable that she would ever get this opportunity again.

"W- wait!" Yuri called out, using all of her willpower to speak up.

Batman stopped, tilting his head back, looking over his shoulder at her expectantly.

Feeling extremely stupid, Yuri tried to state her request.

"I- I'm sorry, but, uh..." She hesitated.

Stop stammering! Don't waste his time more than you already are!

"...I, I know you're probably busy, but-"

Get to the point!

"...can I get another hug?" She asked, her voice sounding incredibly hoarse as her mouth had all but dried out. She swallowed. "Uh, please? Before you leave?"

She could feel her face flush as Batman remained unmoving. She'd finally done it, after all this time of being a good victim, riding with Batman in the Batmobile without being too annoying, she'd finally managed to weird out the superhero like she did everyone else, by being... Yuri.

She closed her eyes in embarrassment, reaching up to stroke her long hair a bit, pulling it in front of her face, hiding behind it like she had a habit of doing when she messed up a conversation.

"N- never mind." She spoke in a far too squeaky voice, wanting nothing more than the sweet embrace of death to get her out of this. "I- ignore me. It w- was a s- stupid idea a- anyway-"

She was caught off guard when she felt big, strong arms around her, and opened her eyes in surprise to see the Bat Symbol right in front of her face, as she was embraced noiselessly by Batman.

She couldn't understand why, but she didn't question it as she too threw her arms around him once more, the feeling of safety once again finding her as he held her. She realized that she no longer had confusing feelings about him, as the hug went on for what felt like hours, even days. As long as she had this moment with him, it didn't matter that they could never be together.

This was all she would ever need from him again.

Then, the moment was over, way too soon, and Batman broke the hug.

Yuri looked after him as he wordlessly walked back to the car, and without another sound, disappeared into the night without a trace of having ever even been there, leaving her to stand dumbfounded on her driveway, alone.

And with the departure of the Batmobile, so too went the last remaining traces of her bravery.

The darkness in the windows of her neighbors' houses didn't seem that reassuring now. She looked around her deathly quiet street, and thought everywhere looked like a spot where a Zsasz could suddenly emerge from, knife raised as he ran towards her, no Batman to save her this time.

She turned on the spot to half-walk, half-run towards the front door of the house, trying not to look as panicked as she felt whilst zipping open the small sideroom on her purse where she kept her wallet and house keys.

Her heart nearly stopped when the shaking of her hands caused her to drop the keys on the ground, forcing her to bend down and fumble after them for what felt like an eternity, feeling more vulnerable than she could remember ever feeling before in those few seconds.

At last, she managed to pick them up and plunge them into the keyhole by holding onto them tightly with both hands, the logic behind it being that if she held them hard enough, they wouldn't shake so much. Even so, it took way too long in her mind to finally unlock the door, get inside, fumble for the light switch and slam the door shut again, locking it as fast as she could.

She leaned against the door in exhaustion, closing her eyes as she tried her best to take deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. Her knees felt wobbly, and she was tempted to just slide down into a sitting position right here, right now, until she would be able to function properly again, or at least function as well as she had before.

But she knew she couldn't. There were a hundred things to do now, that she couldn't neglect just because she felt scared. She needed to change out of this ridiculous dress as soon as possible, and if she could resist the urge to just burn it outright, she would hide it away like the dirty, embarrasing secret it was, making sure it never saw the light of day again. Then she would need some food, as even though she still had no appetite to speak of, she was smart enough to realize that going without sustenance for this long probably wasn't very healthy.

First off though, she needed to calm down. Her nerves were stretched thin, and her paranoia was going through the roof. Rationally, she knew that she had made sure all doors and windows had been locked before she'd gone to the party, but she still needed to check every room, just to be safe.

She sighed as she with some effort walked away from the door, and got to work.

After a quick search around the house, flicking every light switch she could, showering the place in brightness, she finally went to the kitchen to make herself some calming tea.

This, along with reading and listening to music were her go-to solutions whenever she felt stressed, and she hoped it would be enough to work this time as she held the kettle underneath the tap in her sink with hands that just didn't seem like they wanted to stop shaking in any near foreseeable future.

She settled the kettle on its stand, and turned on her stereo, preloaded with a "Relaxing Nature Sounds" disc, so she could listen to the waves of the ocean as she waited for the water to boil.

It wasn't enough. She nearly dropped the porcelain cup she retrieved from her drawer, due to her shaking hands, and as the kettle finished, she quickly realized that she couldn't even pour the liquid into the cup without risking burns from the boiling water that was sure to spray everywhere.

As it turned out, getting stabbed and nearly killed by a deranged murderer seemed to have more lasting effects on her than her normal anxiety did. Who would have thought?

Her cut started itching again beneath the bandages, and Yuri groaned in frustration, settling down on one of the chairs by her dinner table. She was tempted to slam her fist into the mahogany wood.

Why did she have to be so pathetic? She had truly reached rock bottom with her stupid emotions if she couldn't even make herself a simple cup of tea.

She could feel her eyes getting wet as she kept listening to the sounds from her stereo, doing nothing to calm her, and then made her decision.

She reached into her purse, intent on pulling out the card for the Clinic Batman had provided her with. She really didn't want it to have to come to this, but what other choice did she have when she couldn't even feel safe in her own house?

Yuri gasped in shock as for the second time today her fingers made contact with something she hadn't expected to find in her purse, although this was clearly on a whole other level than Natsuki's cupcake. She quickly retracted her hand from the depths, and with her heart hammering even harder in her chest now, she looked inside to see Zsasz's knife, lying neatly on top of Caleb's poem and some other miscellaneous items she kept in there.

Her eyes widened in fear. She'd forgotten having grabbed it when it had been launched out of the killer's hands, and hiding it in there.

It had a black, wooden shaft, holding onto one of the largest silver blades she'd ever seen, vaguely curved. It was clear that this wasn't like one of her kitchen knives, used for cutting vegetables. The purpose of this knife was obvious, evidenced by the red blood still staining it.

My blood? She thought, dazed from seeing it. Or Zsasz's?

Her bandaged arm was itching more than ever. It was becoming downright unbearable, and she reached over with her other arm to pull at her bandages, despite what Batman had told her. The itching couldn't be a good thing, right? Clear evidence that the bandages were too tightly wrapped, surely. Batman would understand, of course he wou-

Her train of thought stopped when she at last unraveled the arm, and could take in the injured flesh in all its glory. It had stopped bleeding, and had turned a much darker red already, but it was still scary to look at. It looked so out of place on her arm, didn't belong there at all.

She carefully took out the giant knife from her purse, and hurriedly wiped the blood away from it with her expensive dress. It was blood-spattered and dirty anyway, so she didn't really care.

She held the blade up against the light, fascinated by the way the blank surface reflected her eyes. She reached up to run her fingers along it, feeling the cold steel, experiencing just how sharp it was. Any more pressure applied from her fingers, even the tiniest amount, would be enough to draw blood from her, just like it had earlier today.

Her hands had stopped shaking, as if they knew instinctually to be careful, to behave themselves around the weapon. Like with a predator in the wild, she needed to treat it respectfully. One wrong move, and it would all be over.

She spun it around in the air slowly, feeling the weight of it. Again, like a predator, it had a certain grace to it, a beauty that somehow made it more alluring despite the obvious danger present.

She lowered the knife, and held it against the cut on her arm, inspecting it, comparing them, taking in the evidence of the damage it could cause in the wrong hands.

The cut was unsightly. An ugly reminder of a man she hated, of a time where she'd felt completely and utterly helpless, saved more by mere luck than anything she'd done herself. And Batman had told her it would scar, leaving her with the mark for the rest of her life.

How could she possibly ever get over this? Knowing that it was only thanks to the mercy of a madman that she was still breathing? She wouldn't ever be able to show her arm in public again, couldn't ever let people see how she'd been violated by that man, the scar being a symbol of her own weakness. It was, and would remain the mark of Victor Zsasz, and as long as it was there, staining her body, she would be one of his victims, forever and always, with her unable to grow and move past it.

Unless...

Unless I make it my own. She thought, breathing heavily.

She idly circled the knife between her fingers once again, her hands steadier than they'd ever felt before as she considered her options.

If... if she was to make her own mark, across the one Zsasz had made, it would... take away his influence. It would be her mark. Hers to own, it would be her decision, it would be her... controlling it. Instead of being a reminder of a moment where she'd felt vulnerable and weak, it would... it would be a symbol of her own strength.

Yuri moved the knife slowly, as if in a trance, towards the cut on her arm, and settled the blade on top of the wound, resting it at approximately a 45 degree angle.

Her hand was still as if carved in stone. Her head was completely void of thoughts and emotions as she gazed calmly at the blade in her hand. She had tuned out the sounds of her stereo completely, the only sound she was able to hear being her own beating heart.

She took a final deep breath, applied pressure to the blade, and dragged it across her skin in one swift motion.

Euphoria.

Of all the sensations Yuri had expected to feel as she penetrated her own skin, this wave of pleasure washing over her entire body was certainly not one of them.

She threw her head back, completely overwhelmed by the sensations erupting from the newly made cut intersecting the one made not even an hour before. She couldn't speak, move or think straight, could only lean back in her chair as she experienced the satisfying stinging, like pure lightning surging through her veins.

She had never felt more alive than she did at this moment, had never felt anything even remotely comparable to this... rush, overloading her senses. All these years, she'd been so conservative, always feeling as if her emotions were oddly dull and faded when compared to the behaviour of the girls her age, like she didn't belong amongst them, throwing them off with her dignified and controlled way of acting, as opposed to their incessant giggling.

If only they could see her now.

An uncontrollable smirk stretched widely across her face, and her eyes rolled upwards inside her head as Yuri lost herself to the all-consuming pleasure. Her mouth opened automatically as a way to let her breathe even heavier, and she actually felt a strand of drool moving past her lips, dripping down her face.

If she was capable of rational thought, she would probably have been appalled at this very un-ladylike display of hers, but right here, at this very moment, she found herself unable to care about anything, least of all her appearance.

Her insecurities, her worries, her fears, they all seemed so tiny and insignificant compared to this indescrible feeling that had overtaken her. Batman, Zsasz, Mac, Caleb, all the other countless crushes that had given her so much heart grief in the past- it was as if they just ebbed away from her mind, like the water in a bathtub draining away.

She was finally happy!

"Haah... haah..." She panted, after what seemed like hours of sitting in this chair indulging herself. The feeling that had consumed her was finally starting to fade away ever so slowly, and she felt herself coming to her senses again.

As her vision started coming back, she looked around her kitchen with dazed eyes, taking in everything as the nature sounds from her stereo started becoming audible again.

Then, her smirk was wiped from her face, and her eyes widened in pure shock when she saw the blood flowing freely from the cuts on her arm resting on the table, dripping down the sides, staining the wood as well as the floor.

She lifted her other arm, which had been dangling limp by her side, still clutching the gigantic knife tightly.

Realization struck her like lightning.

What the hell am I doing?!

With a highpitched yelp of panic and disgust, she threw the knife away from herself, and watched it fly across the room, the black shaft colliding with a wall, and landing on the floor.

She raised her hand to cover her mouth, as she watched the blood continuing to trickle down from her arm, at a loss for what to do about it. Her thoughts were jumbled, confused, as if she'd just had the best dream in ages only to awaken in a living nightmare.

Need to clean the wound. Just like how Batman did.

It helped to focus on a single task. She quickly got up from the chair, and headed with swift steps into her bathroom, placing her mutilated arm underneath the tap, and turning on the water.

The deep red turned into a faded pink in the sink as the water washed it away, and Yuri began looking for iodine in the cabinet above the sink. Drying her arm with a clean towel, she endured the burning sensation of applying the antibiotica, wondering why this process was as painful as it was when literally cutting herself had turned out to be the most amazing feeling she'd ever had.

She didn't want to think about that right now, and after wrapping up her arm in new bandages, her mind went on autopilot as she headed out to do her tasks.

She dried off the blood from the table and floor as best she could, until only a very faded amount of pink residue was vaguely visible, which she would try to remove with hydrogen peroxide in the morning. Putting the blood-spattered towel in a bucket with cold water, she took the opportunity to strip off the hated dress as well, and changed into the comfortable white sweater she should have been wearing in the first place today.

Last, she got into her kitchen again, boiling a new kettle of water whilst making herself a sandwich. She noted how steady her hands were compared to before, expertly handling the breadknife applying peanutbutter to the whole grains bread, and pouring the boiling water into the porcelain cup containing the tea leaves, without shaking even once.

She even carried both the cup and the plate with the sandwich to the dinner table with no shaking on her part whatsoever. It seemed that whatever had happened with her... reaction... before, it had... calmed her down? Even thinking back to the harrowing experience with Zsasz earlier, her heart remained level, and she wasn't afraid.

Which was admittedly kind of worrying.

What is wrong with me?

She took a bite of her sandwich, closing her eyes as she savoured the taste. It had been foolish of her to go so long without eating, and as she ate, her rumbling stomach really made it known how hungry she'd been all this time.

After finishing her late night meal and emptying her cup, she finally felt ready and prepared to face the knife laying there on the floor a few meters away, patiently waiting for her.

She looked at it for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath, and picked it up.

Heading back to the table, she carefully placed the knife on the wooden surface, and rolled up her sleeve to see the clean, white bandages, concealing the two marks from view.

When washing away the blood, she had clearly been able to tell the striking difference between her cut, and Zsasz's. But maybe, if she added a bit more practicing, they would eventually become indistinguisable from eachother.

She wasn't stupid. She knew how this looked, how insane this would seem to an outsider looking in, which made it a good thing that she lived alone then.

She wouldn't deny that this was extreme and terrifying as well, already considering adding more marks after that traumatic experience she'd suffered tonight. And the revelation that she apparently was so messed up, so far from being normal that she liked getting cut, filled her up with much disgust and shame of herself.

She wanted nothing more than to forget everything about what had happened tonight.

But the hard truth was that making the cut had calmed her down, far more quickly and effectively than any of her usual go-to solutions ever had, and certainly better than some doctor would ever be able to. How could she go about her life, pretending not to have such a solution for her crippling anxiety?

She picked up the knife again, marveling the reflective surface of the blade, stained just a bit with a few red droplets. It couldn't help that it had been wrongfully used by a man like Zsasz. It was merely a tool. A beautiful tool, expertly crafted with a purpose far more put together than a madman's bidding. She would use it well. She would be smart about this.

It wasn't like she was going to make marks all willy-nilly from now. She wouldn't become an addict. The mark she'd made now would last her for at least a few weeks alone, she was pretty sure, and she promised herself that she was only going to do it when she truly felt like she needed the release. Only on those rare times where her distressed mind would make everything else seem absolutely hopeless, to the point where she couldn't think straight, would she use it.

It probably wasn't good for her. Probably wasn't healthy at all, for both her physical and mental stability.

But it worked. As long as nobody knew about this, things would be fine. Thinking about it rationally, she wasn't hurting anyone else by doing this, and nobody should care about what she did to herself in the privacy of her own home. As long as she didn't flaunt her bare arms at school, (which she didn't think she would have any problems resisting) she could make this work.

She didn't know why the cut had had the effect on her it did. Maybe she had always been like this, a deviant freak. Would explain a few things. Or maybe when Zsasz had cut her, he'd mixed a bit of his own blood into her, passing on a few of his own traits into hers, making her experience his feelings and...

She shook her head in disgust. What a gross, idiotic violation of common sense.

It didn't matter why or how she was like this. She couldn't change her feelings, so there was no reason to worry about it.

She placed the knife on the table again, and yawned widely. She felt like she could sleep for a century straight after tonight.

Before she rose from her chair to pick up the plate and cup from her late night impromptu dinner, her curiosity got the better of her, and she rolled up the sleeve of her other arm, taking in the smooth, pale skin, and ran her fingers along it. It was bare, devoid of any blemishes, like an empty canvas waiting for an artist to turn it into a masterpiece. When she would take off the bandages of her other arm and compare them, she knew her arms would look unsatisfactionally assymmetrical.

She smiled sleepily to herself, and rolled down the sleeve again.

She would fix that.