Spider-Man: Hero Academia

by Timelord2024

After an encounter with one of the Infinity Stones, Spider-Man finds himself placed in a new world of superheroes. Mysteriously, he becomes enrolled in U.A, a high school created for teaching upcoming heroes. When he discovers the Infinity Stones have become lost In this world, somehow still retaining their power, he must find them before his new friends get caught in the crossfire

49. Pro Hero (Part 1)

The sun came into the sky quicker than the afternoon sleepers would like. Its light invaded the houses of thousands upon thousands without so much as asking for permission. It snuck in like a creature of the dying night. One house in particular—a smaller home in the suburbs of Musutafu, Japan—was one of its many victims. The room the light entered first was of the top floor; a bedroom for the child of the household.

The room was lit up with a comforting yellow light from the sun, travelling upward to the desk next to the young boy's bed. His body was facing the opposite way, so the light was unable to bother his restful sleep. Yet, despite this, he still found himself waking up to its gentle touch. It was only a few minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off. At this point, he had been getting up slightly earlier due to being accustomed to the alarms sounds.

He picked up a pair of glasses that were sitting on the nightstand next to his bed and let his eyes adjust. His room was small and crowded with things. There were still boxes left over from the move-in a few months prior. Most had been emptied of their things and spread around the room, but he had neglected to throw them away just yet. Part of him thought he could use the cardboard for a future project. Anything was useful if he was creative enough.

Stepping out of bed, his feet were met with the shirt he took off the night before. It must have fallen off his bed after he took it off; it was somewhat hot earlier that night. Tossing it into his hamper, he strolled to his bag of clothes. Though he had a dresser, he had not given himself the time to pack the clothes away. Too much of that was spent studying and catching up with everyone at his new school. After joining partway through the year, he had a lot to catch up on.

He dressed himself in the required school uniform; Dark blue pants, a grey color jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a red tie to complete the look. Added to that, he mixed gel into his hair and brushed it over with a comb. The last thing he wanted was to look bad while going to school, or anywhere for that matter.

Dressed before the morning even began, he made his way downstairs.

Most of the house was wood with concrete foundations, a cheap but acceptable set of living conditions for what they could find. Sitting in the living room were two people; his mother and father. While his mother was enjoying the morning news, his father had papers scattered on the coffee table. They were schematics and equations with the company logo at the top of each page. A notebook was set to the side where he would jot down all his thoughts while drinking his morning coffee.

"Morning," Said the boy as he passed them.

"Good morning," Said his mother, "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," he said. His father gave a halfhearted hello, too focused on what he needed done for that day. Instead of pressing further, the boy made his way into the kitchen, where two more people waited for him.

One was an elderly woman with hair as white as snow, putting together breakfast for herself and her husband—the other person inhabiting the room with hair as grey as a rock—sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper delivered that morning. He was the first to greet the boy with a smile on his face, "Morning, Peter!"

"Morning, Uncle Ben," Said Peter with a smile.

Spider-Man: Hero Academia

Chapter 49

Pro Hero (Part 1)

Peter sat down at the kitchen table just as his Aunt May placed a plate in front of him. Steaming from the plate was scrambled eggs and homemade hash browns. He always loved the way she made them; she used to work at a breakfast restaurant in her youth, just around his age. She picked up a few additions to the recipe in the decades since then, and now it could compete with the professionals. Cooked just right and simmered in butter and a touch of pepper; his favorite.

"Thank you, Aunt May," Said Peter as he picked up his utensils and began eating.

"You've been getting up earlier," Said Uncle Ben.

"My alarm is really loud, so I think my body is just 'no, not today, Pete'."

Ben laughed, "I remember days like that in my twenties. I had one of those classic alarm clocks with bells on top. I started getting up a few minutes before 6 without even needing to set it. I still do it to this day."

Ben continued looking through the newspaper with a pen in hand. He had been circling articles in the paper that offered jobs. While they were able to understand what everyone was saying, the writing aspect was still unusual to them. Each of them carried a translation book whenever they needed to read something, even Peter, though he came better prepared. When they chose to move to Japan, he opted to start learning to write in Japanese with his father; the man was the reason they were there in the first place.

"Found anything, yet?" Asked Peter.

"Not yet, but there is bound to be something out there for me. I just gotta keep looking."

"Dad can always get you into Alchemax like him."

"I won't be satisfied until I get a job on my own," Ben took a bite of his food before pointing in reference to Peter's school outfit, "Get your homework done? Wasn't too hard?"

"I can write pretty well in Japanese at this point. It's not an issue, and I've been getting caught up pretty fast."

"That's good. Give it time and I'm sure they'll be going to you for homework."

After finishing his food, Peter grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder before heading to the door.

"Hey, Peter!" Shouted Uncle Ben from the kitchen, "Don't forget to check out that comic shop after school! I heard they opened today!"

"Thanks, Uncle Ben!" Shouted back Peter before closing the door behind him.

Peter loved looking at the city as he strolled through it. Its culture was so vastly different from back home and it made him want to learn as much as he could. The different colors and aspects were so fascinating. The city was just as crowded as New York, but somehow different; full of life. He loved trying to read the different signs when he passed by them, then testing himself afterword's to see if he got it right. It was the fastest way to learn how to read Japanese.

He came upon the school just across the block. Cars were coming to a stop at the crosswalk as people gathered to make their way over. Some were fellow students, mainly Asian. It was strange being the minority here, but it was also a welcomed feeling.

Once he crossed the road, he finally reached the school and tightened the straps of his backpack. The school was tall with many glass windows. The cost for the school was a bit pricier than the one in New York, but his fathers new job was able to take care of the expenses in exchange for him working at Alchemax.

As he began his approach for the door, his ears rang loudly, distracting him long enough for someone to trip him from behind. Peter barreled for the ground as his glasses fell off on impact. Laughter erupted behind him, but he couldn't see who it was coming from. He tried reaching for his glasses, but someone picked them up before he could.

"Whoops," Said a deep voiced boy, "Better not lose these," He tossed the glasses to Peter and let him put them back on; his vision recovering quickly.

Standing above him was a boy wearing the same uniform as him. His hair was pitch black, sticking at an upward angle. Almost none of the hair was hanging down, either due to gel or some other styling. He smiled sinister-like, looking down at Peter as though he was an ant.

"Didn't realize Americans were so clumsy," Said the boy.

"Nice one," Said one of the boy's friends, "Come on, Tokoyami."

Tokoyami glared once more at Peter before walking away with his friends. Peter was left alone to pick himself up and wipe the dust off. Tokoyami had been picking on him since he first arrived, calling him slurs and insulting his ability to comprehend Japanese. As much as Peter loved the city, there were still aspects about it and its inhabitants that rubbed him the wrong way.

Peter walked into his first class, some dirt still residing on his uniform. Tokoyami, who was sitting in the corner with his friends, chuckled at the sight of him. Other than him, close to no one actually paid Peter any mind. They found it strange an American was attending their school, but they mostly chose to ignore him. They just assumed he'd have trouble communicating, anyway.

He sat down just as the class representative came walking in. Her hair was curved at a unique angle with a single gathering of hair hanging from the front of her face. Her eyes were dark and stern as her very presence made the class go quiet. She was not only popular but also very strict to the rules, and she made sure everyone knew it.

"Settle down!" She commanded, finding no room for mercy in her search for perfection, "Mr. Maguire will be in soon, but he sent me ahead to give morning announcements," She held up a clipboard, making Tokoyami roll his eyes as she spoke, "First off, Mr. Maguire needs to postpone the homework until this Friday due to personal time-management issues. Second, Due to bad weather later, school will be letting out 45 minutes early to allow students to get home safely."

"Bad weather again?" asked a student, "It's been terrible lately."

"If you watched the morning news, you would have already known this information," Scolded the class rep.

"Lighten up, Yaoyorozu," Said Tokoyami, "No need to get hostile."

"The last thing we need today is to hear your input," She threw back, "Lastly for the announcements, they're doing reconstruction at the side entrance, so it's advised not to take that way when school ends. If you must, please be careful. That will be all; you may talk during homeroom until Mr. Maguire gets here."

Momo put down the clipboard and took to her seat quickly, pulling out a notebook and writing in it. While everyone else chose to talk amongst themselves, she chose to get ahead on her work.

Peter noticed something about her when she started working. She always got this way when she needed to focus. Her usual stern attitude went away, at least visibly. She was quiet, self-contained. The look on her face was desperation, maybe even fear. It was strange because any time she wasn't working, she looked like an army veteran too sick of the world to look at it. He wanted to say something, but he was honestly too afraid of her to try.

Peters ears rang again, louder than before. It forced him to squint his eyes tightly to avoid the pain. He had been getting those a lot lately, little moments of Tinnitus that come out of nowhere. There was nothing he could really do about it except fight through the pain.

"Hey," Tokoyami poked at Peter's shoulder as he smirked, "You catch all that, immigrant?"

"Yes," he answered plainly, "I can understand Japanese just fine."

"What's that?" he asked, "I couldn't understand you over your accent."

A paperclip suddenly got chucked at Tokoyami, hitting him square in the nose. He jumped out of his seat to see where it came from. Though there was no one obvious, the closest one he could find was a girl with short purple hair. She had large headphones over her ears as she looked at her phone. Tokoyami assumed the culprit and stormed over to her, ripping off her headphones.

"Hey!" She shouted, "The hell is your problem?"

"Did you throw this at me, Jiro?!" He asked, holding up the paperclip.

"Of course not," She denied.

"You're lying!" He slammed his hand on the desk. The sudden vibration of sound made Peter jump straight out of his seat. His heartrate spiked and every nerve in his body multiplied their strength. His vision blurred ever so slightly and only for a second. For a single moment, it seemed like he was going to do something, or at least say something. However, he was quiet and still, just as surprised as anyone in the room.

"Got something to say, foreigner?" Asked Tokoyami.

Peter said nothing as he slowly sat back down.

"That's what I thought."

Jiro stole back her headphones and put them over her head, restarting the song she was listening to as she blocked out the world around her. Tokoyami decided not to press further and returned to his seat with his arms crossed. Peter looked to Jiro, wondering whether or not it actually was her, and if it was, why?

…

Gym class came later in the day, and everyone got dressed into their gym clothes. Their teacher, Mr. Garfield, had them start by running laps around the gym. Peter kept himself paced, being sure to put distance between him and Tokoyami. He didn't want him trying to trip him again. The gym floor isn't as comfortable as the grass field outside the front of the school.

Just in front of him, one of the girls was having trouble keeping up with everyone else. She wore a sleeveless shirt and thigh-high shorts for her gym clothes, yet she was still sweating quite a bit. Her skin was dark with black hair, and her eyes were a blue color. She likely didn't try as hard as everyone else to maintain a perfect appearance; she was happy with how she was regardless.

The girl started to tumble before slipping and falling to the ground with a short skid. Other students simply hopped over her as she tried to get up. The only one who stopped was Peter, who came to her side and held her up by her shoulders, "That was a nasty fall."

"I've had worse," Said the girl as she brushed herself off, "Thanks, Parker."

"You know my name?" He asked.

"Everyone does at this point, I mean, we don't always get American transfer students."

"Hope I don't …well …offend you."

"What? No! Of course not," She smiled, "You can call me Ashido. Mina Ashido."

The gym teacher shouted at them to keep moving, and the two ran side by side. She kept in pace with Peter's speed, which was easier than what she was previously doing.

"Liking the school so far?" She asked.

"Sure! I love it!" he answered.

"Everything?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, but everything?"

He knew what she was referring to; it was obvious to everyone at this point, "I'll deal with it."

"Come on! Tokoyami treats everyone horribly!"

"That's why I can't say anything. What makes me so special as to rat on him?"

"You can't be serious. He's practically targeting you!"

Peter went to say something in response, but before he could, the tinnitus returned to him. This time it was far more intense than it was before, almost completely blocking out all other sound. Mina's voice was an echo to him as the tinnitus went from being annoying to being physically painful. His vision blurred again, even with his glasses on. He had no choice but to shut his eyes tight to fight through it as he fell to his knees as he covered his ears.

A few of the students came to see if he was ok, even Tokoyami. He joked about how he couldn't handle a little exercise, but was immediately silenced by how much pain Peter was in. It was like every one of his senses had been amplified. He could feel every foot step the other students made toward him as they vibrated back and forth across the room. The echoing of their voices in the spacious room hurtled back at Peters weakened ears.

Finally, the pain came to a stop, but at a price. His hands were slightly stained with blood that came from his ears, making a few of the student's gasp. The teacher told everyone to give him space as he helped him up. Not even Tokoyami could make a joke as the teacher helped him out of the room, telling the students to continue without him.

…

Peter sat in the chair closest to the nurse's desk. She carefully cleaned the blood from his ears and examined their inner walls. She was short and old, clearly having been at the school for a long time. His glasses were removed to make it easier for her to maneuver the light around the earlobe. He had been sitting there for a few minutes now as she jotted down notes on what she saw. This was his second visit to the nurse's office since coming to this school. The first incident was Tokoyami's doing; pushing him 'by accident' and making him scrap his knee.

Ms. Shuzenji cleaned up the remaining blood in his ear and threw the dirty cloth in the sink, "You seem fine now," She said, "Any idea what caused it? Usually tinnitus is caused by damage or loss of sensory hair cells. You would have had to lose a lot at once for this to happen."

"I really don't know," Said Peter.

"Did this ever happen before?"

"A little bit earlier today …actually," he pondered, "It's been happening more frequently since I moved to Japan."

"Did you used to live in a lower altitude?"

"Yeah, the elevation here is higher by about 100 ft."

"Well, that may have something to do with it. Sudden increases in elevation can affect the body. Just try and take care of yourself; you're only human, after all."

The door suddenly opened as a young girl came in. Her hair was orange and tied into a pony-tail. She was wearing the school uniform, only it was covered in dirt, wrinkles, and a few blood stains. At first glance, it looked as though she had just escaped a battlefield, making Nurse Shuzenji rush to her side, "Goodness, child! Not another fight!"

"He had it coming!" she argued.

"Did you start or finish this one?"

"…Both."

She forced the girl to sit in one of the waiting chairs as she took a quick examination of her wounds. Her arms and legs had the blunt of the bruises, but there was a cut on her face that was bleeding. Shuzenji gave her a warm wet cloth to cover it with.

"I need to grab more rubbing alcohol," Said Nurse Shuzenji, "Stay right here and keep that covered."

With a huff, the nurse left the room to find the maintenance closet.

Peter and the girl sat awkwardly apart from each other. She didn't seem eager to start a conversation, and Peter felt too awkward to make the first move. Still, he was curious about what happened, and why it clearly wasn't the first time. She didn't seem all that bothered being here, she had already gotten into a comfortable position on the chair as she has done before.

Why did he think—even with her cuts and bruises—that she was rather pretty?

Peter finally gave in and cleared his throat to get her attention, "So, uh," he awkwardly began, "Did you win?"

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, likely trying to figure out if he was making fun of her. When she realized there was sincerity in his question, she chuckled, "Yeah, I did."

"What happened?"

"Some guy was just being a real jerk to these kids. I got involved, and when he insulted me, that's when I hit him."

"How bad is it?"

"He's too prideful to go to the nurse's office, he just ran home instead. Probably complaining to his father about how he isn't getting what he wants," She scoffed, "Stupid Monoma."

"Monoma?"

"Neito Monoma. He's one of Tokoyami's boys."

Peter groaned and rolled his eyes at the mere mention of the name.

"Ah, you know the one," She grinned, "His guys give you trouble too?"

"Ever since I arrived, yeah," he wasn't sure why he was suddenly feeling so comfortable around her, enough to start making jokes, but he didn't mind, "I don't know if you can tell, but I'm actually American."

She gasped with a smirk, "No, really?"

"I know, shocking."

"I can't believe my ears. My ears are shocked, they're enthralled. The magnitude of this twist is astounding."

"Ok, that's enough."

Their laughter reached and filled the halls, relieving them both of some of the pain they were feeling. At least, it made them forget why they were here in the first place, if only for a moment. "So," Began the girl, "What's your deal with Tokoyami?"

"He's been bullying me for a while. He calls me 'foreigner' or 'immigrant' or 'alien'."

Her smile went away the second he started listing off the insulting names. Such insults were low, even for Tokoyami, "You've gotta be kidding me!" She exclaimed, "Have you told anyone?"

"What right do I have?"

"You're joking, right?"

She eyed his face and waited for him to laugh it off, or at least say something to make her believe he was only kidding around. Yet, there was only silence from the nerdy boy. Silence trapped behind those glasses fixed to his face. He couldn't look at her now, and he couldn't respond and risk saying the wrong thing. All he could do, as he has always done, is remain silent in the wake of his quiet agony.

"…You really believe that, don't you?"

Again, he says nothing.

"Why?"

Finally, he couldn't hold his words any longer in his mouth. Slowly, he took off his glasses and examined them from the blur of his eyes, "These …things. They're like a sign telling people you're too smart for them, too 'nerdy'. They scream 'you don't belong' at the top of their nonexistent lungs. I try to make friends, but to get anywhere, you can't wear these. You have to be strong, or quick, or pretty. I'm …not really any of those things. I'm just a nerd. That's all anyone will see. Who would ever listen to someone like me? What right do I have to complain?"

Unknown to him as he spoke, the girl couldn't help but get lost in his eyes. The moment he took off his glasses, it was as though his face gained so much more detail. There was something about it that drew her in, something she couldn't describe. There was a peaceful feeling that gave her warmth and safety. Seeing that face told her everything would be ok, no matter what she was facing or feeling. Why couldn't she shake that feeling away? Why didn't she want to?

That feeling of hypnosis faded when he put his glasses back on, and she shook her head as though she had just returned to earth, "So, yeah," Continued Peter, "I can't really say anything."

The girl frowned at him, leaning over her armrest to get closer and look at him with focused eyes, "Don't ever apologize for being smart, ok tiger?"

Peter raised his brows and looked at her, "What did you say?"

"I said don't apologize for being smart."

"No, I mean what did you call me?"

"I didn't call you anything," She tilted her head in confusion, "You didn't give me your name yet, anyway."

"…Right," he shook his head, "It's Peter. Peter Parker."

"Itsuka. Itsuka Kendo," She smiled.

Eventually the nurse returned with rubbing alcohol and treated Kendo accordingly. After she was cleared to go, she went to the door before stopping to turn and face Peter, who was still being treated, "Parker," She called out, "I'll find you after school."

Kendo smiled before closing the door behind her.

…

The school day finally came to an end. Peter kept a ball of cloth in his pocket, courtesy of the nurse in case his ears started bleeding again. Rather than walk directly home, he decided to sit on the steps to the front door and wait. Kendo said she would find him after school, after all. A girl never took any interest in him before. If he just vanished before she could show up, that would come off as being rude. What did she see in him, he thought? What made her want to keep interacting with him? He never had anything of value to offer to someone, much less a girl his age.

In his hand, he fiddled with the ball of cloth received from the nurse's office. He hasn't had any episodes since earlier that day, not even a hint of them. The nurse gave him some cream to use with the cloth if it happened again, and it would hopefully null the pain and ease the effects.

He rubbed irritation from his eyes. They were so tired after today. His vision had been failing him every now and then even with the glasses on. The grass we less green, and the sky not as bright as normal. It would only happen for a moment, and he would often brush it off as nothing.

A bag suddenly hit him in the back of his head, knocking out his glasses once more. This time when they hit the ground, the lenses popped out and rolled a few inches away from the frame. Even when Peter quickly picked up the frame, he found he couldn't very well see.

"Careful, alien," Said Tokoyami as he passed by.

Peter went looking for his lenses, but his hands weren't able to locate them. Despite the blur of his eyes, he did see a hand come close to his face. In the hand was—from what he could make out—the lenses for his glasses. Quickly he took them and popped them back into place. Finally, his vision returned, he saw who had helped him.

It was a boy with green messy hair and emerald eyes. His cheeks had freckles, and he was somewhat shorter than Peter, who stood at roughly 5'5. This boy was no taller than 5ft even. He smiled warmly, giving off a very friendly vibe, "You ok?" Asked the boy.

Peter adjusted his glasses on top his nose, "Yeah, thank you."

"Sorry, your lenses look scratched up."

"It's not a big deal. My Uncle knows how to fix that."

The boy sat down next to him, holding his knee's close to his chest, "Are you waiting for someone?" he asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Mhmm; my mom. She's going to be picking my friend and I up today because of the weather; It's been pretty crazy lately. My friend's mom can't come get him so he's hitching a ride."

"Lots of thunder and rain tonight, from what I hear. Could be a power outage too."

"Gotcha. So, what's your name? You're the transfer student from North America, right?"

"That's right," Peter held out his hand, "Peter Parker."

The green hair boy shook his hand, "Izuku Midoriya."

Peter eyed him carefully. Something about this interaction felt strange. It wasn't bad, but it was the same feeling he had been having all day, and only now was he recognizing it. It was as though any time he talked to someone; it was as though he had talked to them before. Izuku was clearly shy, timid and even quiet. Peter didn't need to hear him talk to know that; he already knew before he even spoke.

"Izuku …" Began Peter, "Have we met before?"

"I don't think so. We don't have any classes together. How are classes, by the way?"

"Working through them. I'm still learning to write in Japanese, but I've made a lot of progress in the time I've been here."

"That's good. Wouldn't want you falling behind for something like that."

A voice called out from the street near the school. It was a boy with flat blonde hair and bright colored eyes. He waved and smiled, looking right at Izuku, "Come on, Izuku! Your mom is here!"

"Coming, Kaachan!" Izuku got up and smiled at Peter, "See you around, Parker." He left and joined his friend for a walk down to the parking lot. They smiled and talked like they had been friends for years. Peter would love to have someone like that again. He used to, before moving away.

Now, he was alone as it seems was his destiny.

A hand lightly bumped his head, and he turned around to find Itsuka Kendo standing there. She was leaning to the side with one hand on her hip. She smiled with her eyelids half open, before trotting down the steps, "Come on," She said, "I'll walk you home."

Itsuka kept the lead as the two of them walked through the streets of the city. Mostly they kept to the sidewalks that were mostly vacant for sake of comfort. They managed to trade a few words, but Peter was rather hesitant to talk. What was he supposed to say? He had never been in this kind of situation before. The last time a girl showed any interest in him, it was all a prank by Flash Thompson. This girl though seems sincere; he didn't feel like she had any sinister intent. There was no proof of this, just a gut feeling.

"So, Parker," Kendo began, "Where are you from?"

"Oh, you can just call me Peter. I know last names are more of a thing to call someone here, but Peter works fine."

"Ok, Peter. Where did you live before coming here?"

"New York City."

"Ooh, the big apple. I've always wanted to go there. What's it like?"

"Big. Time Square has so many lights that even at night it looks like day. My favorite part is when the sun sets over the Statue of Liberty and it angles right with her torch. It's absolutely beautiful. I have a photo of it on my wall."

"Ah, there he is."

"What?" Peter looked around briefly, "Who?"

"You. The you with confidence. The one who made a joke and laughed with me. That's the you I like."

He didn't know quite what she meant. He was never confident about anything, at least not with other people. He always hid in the shadows while he let everyone who deserved the spotlight take as much of it as possible. What did he deserve beyond an IT job behind a desk where no one would remember his name? "I don't know what you mean."

"You have another side to you; I can see it. I think you just need a little help getting him out."

"Why do you wanna try?" He said, regretting it almost immediately. She could instantly tell how scared he got for even speaking. The poor boy was so awkward and nervous about everything. There was a better side to him and she knew it. She couldn't explain why she wanted to try and help him. It was just instinct; a feeling that told her to press forward.

Quickly, she grabbed his hand and made him turn the corner. Instead of crossing the next crosswalk, they made their way in another direction Peter wasn't familiar with, "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Trust me," She grinned, pulling him along.

"But I—wait—my house is in the other dire—ok I guess we're—ok," He stuttered, realizing he had no choice in the matter.

Eventually, they found themselves at the park. It was so full of life; it reminded him of Central Park back in New York. The chirping of birds and the squirrels climbing their trees reminded him of home. It was a piece of green among the blocks of grey that the world was becoming. A reminder of what the world used to be before man moved in and changed everything. It represented hope for him; a light inside every darkness.

They arrived at the large pond toward the far end of the park. It was full of ducks and Lily pad's that decorated the water, which sparkled like a diamond among the stars. What he loved most was the lily flowers near the edge of the pond, floating there with all their beauty. Peter knelt down and picked one up, examining it while adjusting his glasses.

It was the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I thought you would like this," She smiled as she knelt down next to him, "I come here all the time when I need to get something off my mind. The pond is so nice to look at, completely untouched. It was here when the city was built, so they kept it as it was."

Peter gently put the flower down on the ground in front of him, looking to Kendo with curiosity. Why was she doing this, he thought? Normally, people are only nice to him when they want something. After that, the status quo gets restored, "Kendo, why did you bring me here?"

"…I don't know," She answered, "I feel like …I felt like I needed to share this place with you."

"…Why do you get into so many fights?"

This was a rough question for her, one that made her hesitate. Still, for some reason, he's the only one she feels comfortable talking to; the only one who is willing to understand, "I'm just …I look at the world, and it doesn't look right to me. I've never really been shown any other way to handle things. Dad is kind of a brute. He's not mad he didn't get a son, but he wasn't going to have a pretty princess daughter, either. He wanted me strong. Any problem I face can be solved with aggression. I don't really have any other outlet to pour it into."

"What about friends?"

"Who wants to be friends with a girl who likes to fight?"

"Who wants to be friends with a boy who likes to read?"

He didn't choose to say that, but he did. It was that glimmer of confidence that allowed him to speak his mind, and its what she was trying to pry out of him. They looked at each other for a moment, as though space itself was beyond the gate that was their eyes. Kendo slowly reached up for his face, and gently took his glasses off. He didn't fight her on it, but he wasn't sure why. While everything else in his vision was blurry, the one thing that wasn't was her. She was the one thing he could see clear as day.

"I like you without glasses," She said, "Consider contacts."

There was a moment where he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he felt that would be inappropriate despite all his instincts telling him otherwise. It was like a voice in his head telling him to take that leap.

But he couldn't.

Quickly he yanked his glasses back and put them over his eyes, backing up slightly from her. She had him only for a moment—that confident side of his personality—but it hid away in its cave before she could fully lure it out. He returned quickly to a state of fear and self-shame. He stood up and tightened the straps of his backpack, holding his arms close to his chest, "I should really go, before the weather gets bad."

"Yeah …yeah," She stood up too, holding one strap of her bag as the other hand dangled, "Maybe I'll see you at school?"

"…Sure," He smiled.

She gently bumped his shoulder with her fist before strolling away from the pond, looking back a few times to see if he was staring, which he was. She didn't know why she acted so differently with him—not as aggressive as she was with others—but she liked it.

And so did he.

…

Peter opened the door to his small home and was greeted with a familiar sight. His family remained huddled in the living room doing different activities. His mother watched the news as she always did while his Aunt and Uncle were talking with mom as they watched the television together. Family time meant a lot to them, even his father, despite how little attention he paid during these moments. His father was absent for the moment due to being at work. Peter only really saw him in the morning and night, but never in between. To afford this place and everything that came with it required a lot of his time.

At least that's what he said whenever anyone argued with him on it.

"Hey, champ!" Said Uncle Ben, sitting on the couch next to his mother, "You're home early."

"School was let out early due to the weather. I also wasn't able to check out the comic shop yet."

"Well, maybe we can go this weekend."

Placing his bag next to the door after closing it, he joined his family by sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He always tried to get a little family time in before disappearing off into his room for the rest of the day. Despite everything he wanted to do, this was important too,

"Anything happen at school today?" asked Aunt May.

"Met some kids. She's nice-they-they're nice. I meant they're. They are …'they're'," Peter tripped over his words as his cheeks grew hot.

His Uncle picked up on it immediately, knowing full well what it was when he got like this, "What's the girls name?"

At the mention of a girl, his mother tuned into the conversation, "You met a girl?" Mary asked excitedly.

Peter waved his hands in denial, wiping a single drop of sweat from his forehead, "No, there's no …there's a little—well she's not little, that's not what I mean. Little as in small thing—not that she's a thing, it's –her name is Itsuka Kendo, kinda the rowdy, tough girl type. She's really nice though, and sweet-"

"And pretty?" asked Mary.

"And pretty—wait –mom, no! I mean not that she isn't pretty, she Is—I mean— …darn it."

His family laughed, which only made his cheeks hotter as he covered them.

"I hate you guys!" said Peter as he laughed awkwardly.

They tried to ask more questions about the girl he met, but he chose to tune them out and watch the news. Nothing too special was on at first, just the usual weather report of the sudden storms that have been happening all weak. Some rich guy donated money to charity and people are assuming it's a stunt, there was a poll for the most use emoji icon—which Peter found to be rather stupid— things like that.

What caught his attention was a breaking news report that seemed to come out of nowhere. The footage was live as the newswoman spoke. She sounded alarmed and nervous as the footage played from somewhere uptown. The loud noises got his family's attention as well as the room went silent.

"It happened only moments ago!" Said the newswoman in a panic, "The clouds that moved in only minutes ago began to disperse a flurry of lightning strikes that attacked the streets of the city! One such bolt of lightening hit a moving car causing it to swerve and crash into oncoming traffic!"

The footage showed everything she described. Lightning was pouring from the clouds like a light shower. The crashed car was on fire, with a clear shadow of a body in the passenger seat. Peter couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"The driver did not survive the impact, nor did the passengers of the other vehicle," Said the newswoman, "it truly is a horrific sight."

The lightning continued to get increasingly worse as the footage went on, causing the camera man to turn off the camera, likely getting somewhere safe. They could still hear the thunder outside, closer than they would like. The tragedy unfolding on the screen made May cover her mouth in disbelief.

"Real shame," Said Ben with sympathy, "That weather has been getting worse and worse, and now this."

Peter's chest became heavier, he felt. Seeing the people on that screen suffering, he wanted to help them. He wished he could pull them out of that fire. Fear, however, was a voice louder than any other. It told him he had no chance, and no one would dare accept his help. He was better off staying out of the way than trying to do anything meaningful.

Again, the tinnitus returned to him without hesitation. The ringing became horribly loud in his ears and he pulled out the cloth from his pocket, alternating it between his ears. His family tried to ask him what was wrong, but he was unable to answer them. His mother showed immediate concern when she saw the blood on the cloth and rushed to his side, checking close on his ears. She spoke with her lips moving, but Peter heard not a word of it.

Finally, as the ringing subsided, he heard his mother asking if he was ok, "I'm ok," he answered, "It's been happening all day."

"What has been?" asked his mother.

"Tinnitus. The nurse says it has something to do with the higher elevation or something. I'll be ok."

"Honey, you're bleeding! Maybe we should stop by the hospital."

"You're assuming we can afford a trip like that right now. I'll be ok; I'll just stop by the nurse again tomorrow."

As much as Mary wanted to argue, he was right. Between the house, food, and everything else, there was no wiggle room for a trip to the hospital, "Ok, but head straight there as soon as you can."

Peter nodded, looking back to the news that was playing. Now, instead of the story about the car crash, they were promoting a story about the traffic over the bridge, "Well, that's insensitive," Peter pointed out.

"What is?" asked his Aunt.

"They were just talking about a car crash because of the storm, then they pull a serious 180."

His entire family looked at him with a confused look, which only shared that confusion with him. Why were they looking at him like he was crazy, he wondered? "What did I say?" Peter asked.

"We just don't know what you mean," Said Mary.

"Weren't they just talking about a car crash?"

"No. There was no car crash, sweetie. It's been mainly traffic stories for the last 5 minutes."

Peter blinked and wiped the remaining blood from his ears as though he had misheard her, "No—we—what? We were just acting all shocked over it. There was a car crash because of the—"

Peter went to point at the window leading outside to emphasize the insane weather that had been taking place. Unfortunately, his evidence was not provided. The skies were completely clear; not a single cloud invaded the air above. There were no sounds of thunder, no signs of lightening. Any trace of the storm was completely gone.

"But …" he started, feeling very confused as he stood up to look out the window, "There was a storm today! That's why we were let out of school early!"

"I thought you were let out because of construction," Said Ben, "Didn't they say they were doing construction on one of the exits and needed kids out of the way?"

"Yeah …but," Peter stepped away from the window, holding his head and adjusting his glasses, "I'm not crazy, right?"

Mary put a hand on his shoulder, "Maybe you should lie down, honey."

He knew there was a storm that day. It was the whole reason he hurried home and skipped seeing the comic store. Yaoyorozu made it very clear in her morning announcements why school would get out early. He couldn't have possibly imagined any of that, right? It didn't make any sense. There was a storm just a moment ago; he heard it! He saw it!

"…Yeah," he finally agreed with his mother. Perhaps he really was going crazy. If everyone was against him, then clearly, he was in the wrong. At least, that's the way his brain processed it. Choosing not to fight back, he let his mother lead him upstairs.

Peter spent the remainder of the day in bed, working on his homework with his legs under the covers. Working as he did got his mind off everything else. It didn't make sense that no one knew about the crash after they clearly saw it. It made even less sense that the weather was suddenly sunny, and apparently always was so.

As the sun began to set with the moon barely on the rise, there was a knock at Peter's door. He didn't have a chance to respond before it was opened. His father came through still wearing his jacket; he had just come home for the day.

"Hey, Pete," his father, Richard, greeted him, "You feeling ok? Mom told me about your ear incident. Want to tell me about that?"

Though it came from a place of concern, his tone rubbed Peter the wrong way. His dad wanted to know everything right away so he could gain control and fix it. That's how his mind was wired; he needed to fix everything, and needed to be in charge to do it. It made talking to him harder than it should be with every discussion feeling like a scolding,

"The nurse at school says it has something to do with the elevation," Said Peter as he put his school book down, "The city has a greater elevation than New York so it might be an atmosphere thing."

"Strange, hasn't happened to me or your mom, nor your aunt and uncle."

"Probably because I'm youngest."

When it came to scientific facts, Richard learned not to question it, especially when the information was coming from Peter, "Your mom said you were going on about some car crash?"

"Yeah …I think I was just overtired," Peter lied so well, he even tricked himself, "School has been hard."

"If you find it hard, then it must be difficult," He joked, "Just thought I would check on you before bed. Try and get a good night sleep for tomorrow, ok?"

Peter nodded instinctively to his father's words, as he had done so many times without thinking. A quick 'goodnight' and his father closed the door, leaving him alone with his textbooks, his notes, and his thoughts.

The last being the most difficult to decipher.

…

The sun quickly replaced the moon with eager tendency. Peter awoke and performed his usual morning routine. While he acted as he normally did every day, other thoughts cowered in the back of his mind. He still couldn't let go of yesterday's events. Had he truly gone made, he wondered? Was he overworking himself in this new school? Everyone seemed against what he thought, so he must have been wrong. That's how it works, isn't it?

Peter walked to school like he did every day. Potentially, there was public transportation to take, but he preferred to get his exercise in and walk; it helped to wake him up in the morning. Students had already begun crowding the front yard with 20 minutes before homeroom. He looked around, keeping an eye out for two things; one was Tokoyami in case he tried to trip him again, and the other was Kendo.

He liked her, that much was certain. The only question now was if she felt the same. She showed genuine interest in him the day prior, but what if it was a fluke? What if she changes her mind, or perhaps it was all out of pity for his weakness? After being tricked back home by Flash Thompson, he wasn't eager to step back onto the field without checking for mines.

The orange-haired girl called out to him with her ponytail flailing in the wind. She was smiling warmly at the sight of him, but he still remained cautious. She approached him with a strong posture, almost imposing on his space, "Hey there, Pete."

"Hey, Kendo," he said with a hint of surprise, "Wasn't sure I would see you again."

"Why is that?"

"Well …you said maybe you'd see me at school."

She chuckled, bumping his arm with her fist, "Walk with me, you dork."

Chuckling along awkwardly, but welcoming, Peter followed her into the school as they roamed the halls. Peter never felt safe walking through school halls; trauma from when Flash Thompson would throw him into a locker at any time. He wasn't sure where the two of them were going, nor was he sure if she even cared.

"Hey," Peter began, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," She allowed.

"Yesterday, was there any bad weather? Like storms, lightning, that stuff?"

"No, it was pretty sunny all day. Why?"

"…I don't know, I guess. For some reason I thought it was storming yesterday and that we were let out of school early because of it."

"We were let out early because of construction at one of the entrances."

"See that's what people are telling me. I think I've been overworking myself."

He glanced at her for only a moment and found her staring. Strangely, when she saw that he could see her, she refused to look away. She just kept staring with a smile on her face and a faint redness to her cheeks. What was going through her head, he wondered?

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"You," She answered bluntly, "Weird question; Have we met before?"

"I don't think so. Why, do you feel like we have?"

"Yeah …It's strange. I just feel like we've known each other for a while. We didn't talk at all when you first moved here?"

"I kept to myself a lot in the beginning."

He reached his locker and dialed the combination, opening it and trading out books between it and his bag. Kendo leaned on the locker next to his with her arms crossed, watching him intently, "You know what you need?"

"What?" he asked while continuing to organized his stuff.

"A day off. My instincts are telling me you spend too much time inside. You should go see a movie sometime," She rubbed her cheek as it grew slightly redder, "Or …maybe we could see a movie."

He put his bag back over his shoulder as a grip took hold in his chest, making him feel like he was sweating without proof, "We?"

"Want me to be blunt, you dork?" She joked, "I'm asking you out."

Peter stuttered to get his words out, too flustered to put together anything coherent, "I-I mean you- you and me- and me going to see a movie-a movie with you- with me- why-why me? I don't- I mean I'm not- I'm not like other- other guys who I- I figure you'd be into unless it's like a- like a platonic-"

She gave him a look that made him immediately stop talking, a slight grin escaping the edges of her lips, "You are such a dork," She chuckled.

"…Why me?" he asked genuinely, "Why not someone …else?"

"Because I like you, tiger."

He caught the last word again just as he had before. He didn't imagine when she said it! Why did it sound so familiar, "There you go again, calling me tiger!"

"I called you tiger?"

"Yes!"

"Hm …don't think I did."

She was being serious, and that worried him, "But-"

"It does have a ring to it," She cooed, "I think I'll let it stick, tiger."

His locker suddenly shut with a loud crash. It wasn't his hand that done it, rather someone else's who had intruded in the conversation. Standing to the other side of Peter was Tokoyami and his friends, Monoma and Kaminari. Monoma was blonde with hair over his eyes, while Kaminari's was closer to orange with a single black streak mimicking a lightning strike. None of them had a face that said they were here on friendly terms.

"Hey there, foreigner," Said Tokoyami, "You're looking better after yesterday. Saw you talking to Ashido during class. Maybe you couldn't handle the pressure of actually talking to a girl."

Kendo took offense to that. He knew she was standing right there, didn't he?

"I'm better, now," Said Peter, "It was a freak accident."

"Not the only thing that's a freak accident," He poked at Peter's chest.

The second he laid his finger on Peter, Kendo cut through and stood between them. Her face was full of rage, startling Tokoyami for a moment before he regained his composure.

"What?" He asked, "We're just having fun, Kendo."

Monoma backed up from the group, still remembering the beating she had given him the other day. He was less than eager for a repeat, and chose to stay out of the conflict further.

"Back off, Tokoyami," Kendo said sternly, "You don't want to stir trouble with me."

Tokoyami laughed, "You're kidding right? You're friends with this guy? He's not even from Japan. He's not one of us!"

"And what is he then?"

He spoke directly to Peter with these next words, a sinister grin as his armor, "Americans have it easy, filling themselves up with fattening food and getting anything that they want with little work. He's pathetic and doesn't even deserve to be here! Peter Parker is weak!"

"Peter Parker is …weak."

"You're wrong. Peter Parker is stronger."

The second voice Peter remembered was Tokoyami's. The tone was much more focused and disciplined than he knew him as. He could not remember where he said those words, or even if he did at all, only the words themselves. They sounded like Tokoyami, but he would never say something like that. Where did that memory come from?

"You know what I think, Tokoyami?" Asked Kendo, "I think you're too scared to admit that you don't like how Peter—despite been a 'foreigner'— is a hell of a lot smarter than you."

Tokoyami didn't like that one bit. In retaliation to her comment, he slapped her directly across the right cheek without hesitation. The action made everyone in the hallway stop and stare in silence, some pulling out their phones in case something happened.

Kendo did not disappoint them.

After a quick recovery, she threw a right hook across his face and sent him stumbling into the center of the hall. They began trading blows, with Kendo having the upper hand in strength and speed. Monoma couldn't bear to stick around in case he was the next target, and bolted out of the hallway. Peter watched, wondering if he should intervene somehow.

Tokoyami tried to retaliate with a kick, but she quickly caught it and twisted it, forcing him in that direction and making him fall to his face. It was only now as she put a foot on his back to keep him down that the teachers showed up. They quickly separated the two, holding Kendo more aggressively than Tokoyami.

"That's enough!" Shouted one of the teachers, Mr. Holland, looking to Kendo specifically, "You've caused enough trouble, Ms. Kendo. You're going straight to the principal's office."

Peter stepped away from his locker and pleaded to the teacher, "No! It's not her fault! I started everything; she was just trying to defend me! You should punish me instead!"

Seeing Peter trying to get involved angered Tokoyami. He quickly escaped the grip of the teachers and charged for Peter, giving no one time to warn him.

He heard the ringing again, but this time it was different. There was no pain necessarily, only a feeling. A vibration in the back of his head like a phone. As each millisecond went by, the noise got louder and louder until his instincts took control of his actions. Without thinking of the what or why, he turned around just in time to see Tokoyami throwing a punch at him. His mind expected to he hit straight in the noise and fall over.

His body had a different idea.

His left hand quickly moved at a speed he didn't know he was capable of and swatted Tokoyami's fist to the side. His right hand went up and curled into a fist, striking directly into his enemy's chest. The impact unexpectedly sent him flying straight across the hall, effortlessly travelling a good ten meters before coming to a stop.

Everyone, including the teachers, paused to stare at Peter's incredible feat. It was only after the moment had ended that he regained composure over reality. Had that really just happened? He went flying so far? Peter has never been that strong before. He was barely able to keep up during gym classes. His fist shook in fear, as though he had just committed the worst kind of sin. To him, stepping out of the status quo was that sin.

"Parker," Said the teacher holding Kendo by the arm, "Principles office, now."

…

Both Kendo and Peter sat together in the principal's office for some time. They were each suspended from school for the day. With Tokoyami receiving the same punishments. As they sat in the waiting chairs, Peter did what he always did in times of crisis. He kept his hands on his thighs and sat quietly, keeping his face blank of any and all feeling. All he could do was numb the pain away and accept he royally screwed up. Any chance of dating Kendo was gone now, at least he assumed it was. Why would she ever want to talk to him again after that?

Kendo poked his arm, seeing the amount of distress he was in, "Hey," She cooed, "How you holding up?"

He hesitated, unsure why she even bothered speaking, then blankly said "I'm ok," the only phrase that ever made anyone happy.

"No you're not," She denied, "You do a poor job hiding it. You should be happy."

"I am happy."

"You aren't even gonna ask why you should be happy?"

Silence.

"There's no way Tokoyami will bother you after that display," She reminded him, "How did you do that anyway?"

Silence again, this time because he really didn't have the answer.

"In any case," She quickly stood up and grabbed a sticky note from the front desk, then wrote something on it with a pen before sitting back down and handing it to him, "This is for you."

When he took the sticky note, he saw she had written a series of numbers on it, "What's this?" He asked.

"Call me," She smiled, "I wouldn't mind hearing from you."

She was serious, he thought. She really wanted to spend more time with him, even after the mess he dragged her into. This was no ordinary girl; she was something special.

That brief moment of happiness was cut short when the door to the office opened vigorously. Stepping through the door was his father with a look of utmost rage. The moment Peter saw him, he jumped to his feet and came to his side, leaving through the door without so much as a wave goodbye to Kendo. The sheer fear she felt from him worried her. Hopefully he'll call her soon.

Outside, Richard dragged Peter by his arm, gripping his muscles tightly before yanking him to a stop, "Do you realize what you did?!"

He asked this only because he wanted Peter to say it, "Yes," Peter said quietly.

"God damn it, Peter," He scolded with fury in his voice, "You made me leave work to pick you up!"

"Mom could have gotten me-"

"No, it needs to be me, otherwise you don't learn your lesson!"

It was time to be quiet now, Peter thought. Let him ride this out; there was nothing he could do to stop him from saying what he thought he needed to.

"Moving here has taken a toll on all of us, I understand that. That's no excuse to start punching some kid!"

He wanted to argue that it didn't quite go down like that, but his father would only deny his words as an excuse to escape punishment.

"Everything I'm doing, I'm doing for the family, Peter. You seem to be doing things only for yourself! I don't want to deal with this! This isn't my responsibility, it's yours!"

"Yes, dad," He said while looking down.

"Look at me," His father ordered, "I said look at me."

Peter looked up forcefully, fighting the tears in his eyes.

"No crying," Stated Richard, "Wipe those tears away right now."

Peter quickly wiped his tears, fighting the urge to sniffle in the fear it would make him angrier.

"Get in the car."

Peter quickly got to the car and opened the passenger door, getting in fast while also closing the door carefully in case a loud noise annoyed his father. Richard got into the front seat and started driving away without saying a word further to his son.

Peter was the first to walk through the front door of his home, his father came behind him and shut the door with a light thud. His mother was waiting in the living room for him while his Aunt and Uncle stayed in the kitchen. His father told him to sit down, and Peter obeyed without question, placing himself on the couch.

His mother didn't want to do this today. She knew Peter; she knew he wouldn't fight someone unless he had to. Whatever happened, she knew with certainty that it wasn't his fault. His father though only wanted to be angry. He's been stressed out with the job and the move, and this was enough to set him off. He'd rather fight the problem than negotiate with it.

"Your son got into a fight today," Said Richard, "Thanks to him, I 'm behind schedule. Can you please talk to him?"

Mary nodded, and Richard took that as the excuse to abruptly leave the room. He had other problems to deal with now, he thought to himself.

The living room was in complete silence. What was she supposed to say to him? In her eyes, he had done nothing wrong. Richard paid the bills, though, so she had to say something.

"Peter," began Mary, "Tell me what happened."

"I got into a fight at school. I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry," he said everything he thought he was supposed to, it was the only way to make his stressing father happy. She didn't know what to say that would make him feel any better. He was stuck in his shell with no way out.

"Mary," Said Ben.

His voice rung from the entrance to the kitchen. He leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed and head tilted slightly, giving her the message without having to utter a word. He was always better at this than her, after all. In defeat, she stood up and moved into the kitchen as Ben took her place on the couch.

"Did he deserve it?" asked Ben.

"No, Uncle Ben," Peter answered blankly.

"But did he?"

If the years have taught him anything, it's that Ben was one of, if not the only person he could trust with his feelings. His mother didn't always understand, and his father undermined his feelings. May came close but didn't always have the same insight as Ben did. He was the one person who wouldn't punish him for thinking.

Finally, Peters face filled with emotion as he fought the heaviness of his lips, "He called me so many names …foreigner, immigrant, alien …he tried to hurt me and I just …hurt him back."

"It sounds like you were defending yourself."

"We started a fight; I shouldn't have let it get that far."

"Still, seems unfair you being punished for defending yourself from a bully."

"It's the school rules."

"I'm talking about Richard. He's been so preoccupied with his job, the house, bills. He hasn't had any time to deal with things emotionally. He's a very physical person when it comes to problems. All those emotions bottle up, and unfortunately, that turns minor setbacks into massive annoyances. I'm just sorry you got caught in the crossfire."

"I deserved it."

"The hell you did," Ben finally raised his voice, but only slightly, "Look at you. You're so afraid to feel what you really feel. How can he expect you to become a man if he won't let you until it's too late? If he keeps treating you like this, when you finally move out, you won't know what to do. What then? Does that become your fault?"

Peter didn't want to argue with him because he felt he was right. Yet, a voice in his head told him to say how wrong Ben was, simply because it would make his father happy. Good grades make him happy, so he has to be smart at the sacrifice of every other life skill. He could never admit that, not to his face, maybe not ever.

"Peter," Ben reiterated, "Does that become your fault?"

"…Yes," He said, "Like dad said, it's my responsibility."

"Wrong, it's his own fault if he fails to raise you right. He has power over you but doesn't use it as he should. He doesn't use it responsibly, Peter. I know there's strength in you. He won't change unless you stand your ground and talk to him."

"He's your son, you talk to him," Peter suddenly snapped, tightening his lips straight after.

"You see," Ben pointed out, "That strength is inside you; that great power. Wielding something like that comes with a great responsibility. You do what's right, even if it hurts someone you love."

Those words didn't click with him. He was raised never to do harm to another person, physically or emotionally. It was rare Peter ever said no to someone due to not wanting to hurt their feelings. If someone—anyone—was angry at him, then they must have had good reason. Everything was his fault; it had to be. It's just how he was wired.

Great Power.

The phrase repeated itself in his mind.

Great Responsibility.

Single moments, single frames of time reach the forefront of his mind. He can't make any of it out, not coherently. They were images of himself, of Itsuka, some of the other students in strange costumes he had never seen before. There was a man on the ground, shot dead, and he looked like his Uncle. May laid in a hospital bed with a plane crashing outside. None of them connected nor did they make sense, but each one felt real, and vanished as quickly as it came.

Peter …

He thought it was his Uncle trying to call for him. He could see his lips moving but his words didn't reach him. No, the voice belonged to another, someone who knew him but he didn't know in return.

Peter …Peter, can you hear me?

With a single blink, his surroundings had changed. Peter found himself standing in a large white room with padded walls. In the corner, a man with messy hair was sitting curled up with a straight jacket. The man looked as though he hadn't showered in weeks. Faintly, he called the name again, Peter, over and over again. It echoed, not off the walls of the room, but off the walls of his mind.

Find me, Peter … said the strange man.

Another blink, and Peter found himself back in his house, his uncle holding his shoulders with concern.

"…I need some air," Said Peter as he jumped to his feet.

"I'll open a window," Ben tried to assist.

"No, I-I need to go," Peter tried going for the front door, but Ben quickly stood in his way.

"Peter, calm down. Whatever is going on, we're here to help."

"I just need to be alone for a while."

"Peter-"

"Please!" his desperation grew.

The moment he raised his voice, his father came stomping into the room like a soldier, "What the hell is going on?!" He said as he saw how visibly upset Peter was. He hated when Peter got so emotional, and immediately assumed it didn't mean anything good, "You don't talk to your uncle that way!"

Richard went to grab Peters arm as he always did. The ringing in Peter's head returned, and this time he grabbed his fathers arm at the last second, twisting it and forcing his body to bend off balance. Richard gasped in pain and stood on his toes as a response. Peter let go quickly and backed away, watching his Uncle look after his father. His hands shook with uncontrollable strength.

Desperate and scared, Peter rushed out of the house.

…

The streets were lonely for him; they had lost that whimsical feeling he loved so much. Now they were just noisy as he traversed them. Every sound and smell amplified and shot themselves at him without warning or reason. The lights were brighter and the sounds were louder; Why were all his senses acting up like this? Why did it hurt him so much to feel the world around him? Every time a car went by, that ringing in the back of his head returned and tingled all over his body, like an invisible force urging him to move away. What was it? What was happening to him?

There was only one place outside the house that he would feel safe.

The bell above the door rung loudly to signal a customer had arrived. Peter found himself desperately entering the domain of the comic book store. It was fairly big with comic books lined down the walls. Across the center were racks of shirts and other items franchised to specific properties. Posters were hanging on the wall close to the ceiling. The bright colors and music playing from the speakers gave him a sense of safety.

Back in New York, he would always come in a place like this after school. School bullies would never think to come in here and risk losing respect from their friends. Places like this were meant for nerds and dorks and comic book geeks. It was like a magical shield was placed over the building, keeping all the evil away from it. Only by being inside could he let his shoulders drop and relax.

Finally, he could breath.

The cashier gave him an odd look. Peter laughed nervously, finger gunning him with an awkward hello before strolling into the store. His face felt hot from embarrassment, but at least he was comfortable here. He started looking through the many different comic books lined up against the wall. 'Sargent Germany', 'Orange Tiger' and 'God of Lightning' were among the superhero's stories scattered on the racks. Past that were the Manga's, of which he only owned a few. 'Naruto', 'One Piece', and 'Dragon Ball' were among the most popular of them.

He tried reaching for one of them, and his hand nearly collided with another. Out of respect, he pulled his hand away and hid his face from the owner of the other hand, awkwardly looking at other Manga.

"Hey, Parker?

He looked to the girl standing next to him, and she was one he recognized. It was Kyoka Jiro, the quiet girl back in his class. She was dressed casually rather than in her school clothes. A pair of headphones were hanging from her neck, playing loud rock music he could hear from where he was. Peter was suspended for the day, but school hours were still in effect. What was she doing here?

"Jiro?" He questioned, "What are you doing here?"

"I like Manga," She answered, "What are you doing here?"

"I like …comics?"

"…Cool."

She continued to browse as though nothing was wrong, but Peter was just too curious, "Jiro," He started, "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Shouldn't you?" She retaliated.

"I …got suspended."

Now she had a reason to look at him, one eyebrow up and smirking, "Well look at you. Didn't think you were the type. What did you do?"

"I …got into a fight …with Tokoyami."

The name wasn't one she liked, but that was the normal consensus when it came to him, "Did you win?"

"That's not the point."

"Did you win?"

"…Yes."

She raised her free hand open and flat, "Gimme five."

He left her hanging for a few seconds to see if she was serious. When he realized she was, he gently patted her hand.

"That was pathetic. You gave me like, two. I said five. Gimme five, Parker."

Annoyed, he released air from his nose and tried again. This time he put in a little more force while trying not to hurt her. His hand collided with hers, recoiling the nerves in her skin. It hurt a bit, but she didn't mind very much.

"There you go, Parker!"

He smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. To avoid having to talk further, he continued to look over the many Manga presented on the racks. Some of them were clearly meant for older audiences with images of women in small clothing plastered on the covers. He'll never understand why some writers sacrifice good writing for fan service.

Looking past those, he picked up one he thought looked interesting. It was a boy with orange hair wearing a long black samurai outfit, wielding a sword in his hand. There was a woman behind him with black hair and the same outfit.

"That's a good one," said Kyoka, "One of my favorites, actually."

"I've been meaning to read more Manga. Good place to start?"

"Definitely."

"Noted. I've been more of a comic book person," he looks to the rack of comic books, and picks one up to show her, "This is one of my favorites."

She leaned in to read the title, squinting her eyes only slightly, "'The Human Spider'?"

"Written by the late Stan Lee. It's about a boy who was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained super powers."

"Wouldn't that just kill him?" She grinned.

"You're asking me for realism in this store?"

She paused, trying to find and argument against him but coming up with nothing, opting to chuckle along with his joke, "Fair point."

He put back both the comic and the manga before finally addressing the question she avoided, "Why aren't you at school? Did you get suspended too?"

She finally decided to turn down the music of her headphones, actually taking real investment in the conversation instead of one-off jokes and remarks, "I just didn't want to go. Didn't feel like dealing with Tokoyami again after the previous incident."

"You aren't allowed to skip."

"And yet I'm here. You should try bending the rules more often, Parker. It may do you some good."

"There's a difference between bending the rules and picking them up, throwing them, and watching them shatter like glass."

"Look at you and your simile's. Look, sometimes we need a mental health day. Otherwise we drive ourselves crazy like you have."

He looked at her in offence, "Me?" he questioned, "What makes you think-?"

"Take it from someone who knows." She pointed to herself, "I recognize someone suffering from a mile away."

As much as he wanted to deny it, it was clear she could see right through him. He did suffer, emotionally. Peter put so much pressure and stress on himself, more than a boy his age should. It got to him more often than he would like to admit, to the point where he felt the only safe place to cry was in the shower, where the stream of hot water could mask his tears when he got out.

"You know what always helps me?" She asked rhetorically, pointing to her headphones, "I drown out everything in music. I like to set my own vibe for the world since the actual vibe is crap," Removing the headphones from her neck, she handed them over to Peter, which he took hesitantly, "Here, listen."

"I don't know If I should."

"Try it."

Gently, he took the headphones into his hands and put them over his ears.

What played at first was a track of rock music. It was the song she was listening to before he had interrupted her. The genre of music wasn't really his style, and she could see that pretty well by the look on his face. She flipped through the songs and watched his reactions until finally she landed on one he liked. It was a softer song, mainly slow piano as the instrumental. The words were sung by a woman with a gentle voice.

"Leaves turn brown, and snow falls white.

Grass grows green, and the sun shines light.

Close your eyes and see. All of this beauty,

It comes from you."

Peter smiled, closing his eyes in bliss.

"Hair turns grey, and skin turns pale.

Seeds grow, and they turn to trees.

I see you grow every day.

You change. It's strange."

As the final verse seemed to roll in, Peter allowed himself to join in and hum the words under his breath, despite it being the first time he heard it.

"Leaves turn brown, and snow falls white.

Grass grows green, and the sun shines light.

Close your eyes and see. All of this beauty,

It comes from you."

"Peter."

He opened his eyes expecting to see Kyoka, but instead he was somewhere else. He was back in that padded room he saw before. The lights were flickering rapidly, and doctors were trying to get through the door. Sitting in the corner shaking in a fetal position was the man with scruffy hair, begging softly under his breath. He spoke Peters name over and over as though he knew he was there.

"Peter?"

Another blink and Peter was back in the comic book store. Kyoka was staring at him awkwardly, wondering if he was ok. What he didn't immediately realize was that tears were running down his face more freely than they had for a long time. He lifted one finger and wiped a tear away, feeling immediately panicked.

"I-I'm sorry," He took off the headphones and nearly tossed them back to her, "I need to go, I'm so sorry."

"Peter, it's-"

"It's not ok!" He shouted, covering his mouth immediately after. The other customers stared at him, a kind of pressure he just couldn't take. Overwhelmed and embarrassed, he rushed out of the store and left Kyoka behind in confusion.

Peter nearly slammed the door shut as he left the store, speed-walking away before Kyoka could catch up and stop him. He felt so stupid; he thought that was somewhere he could escape to. It was supposed to be the one place he could feel safe. How could he let himself cry in front of her? He wasn't supposed to cry. If his father could see him right now, he would be more than disappointed.

He was so distraught that he took no notice when he walked into the road before the crosswalk signal had changed. Headlights came barreling at high speeds toward him. The driver hadn't seen Peter until it was too late and slammed on the breaks. The car skid across the pavement and would have rammed right into him, if he hadn't moved at the last second.

Responding to that strange tingling sensation in his skin, Peter instinctively jumped out pf the way of the vehicle. His body went soaring through the air, higher than he had ever jumped before. He tried to grab something—anything. The first thing he saw was the wall he had crashed into, and he tried clawing at the bricks for something to hold onto. When he stopped falling, he was relieved and looked to what he had grabbed.

Nothing.

His finger tips were pressed to the surface of the wall and stuck there like a fridge magnet. He couldn't process it and looked between his fingers and the ground far below him. He had leaped at least four stories high, sticking to the walls surface as though it was his source of gravity. A single pull was all he needed to remove one of his hands from the wall, and it took little effort to let it stick again.

Curiously, he moved up.

He found himself climbing up the wall with ease, like traversing the ground on all fours. He felt the dirt and residue under his fingertips, left on the wall from years of exposure to the world and it's elements. He thought the material between his skin and the wall would make him slip, but no such thing occurred. There was barely a slip or a hiccup in his movements, almost as though his body had skills his mind lacked.

When he made it to the top, his hand reached for the nearest thing to pull himself up, what he found was a pipe sticking out of the roof. When he grabbed it, his hand had crushed it as though it was paper. There was a loud crumbling of metal that ceased without a struggle. It couldn't be, he thought. Had he just crushed the metal in his hands like it was nothing?

Standing on the roof, he looked over the city below. Everything seemed so small from here; so fragile. Despite the fear running through his veins, he couldn't help but feel that childlike wonder from seeing the city from here. No one knew he was up here; no one could see him. For a moment, there was a sense pf peace in the height. He was alone with his thoughts, his confusing and complex thoughts he spent years fearing.

His eyes traveled to his feet, the limbs of which previously reacted without command. He had leaped so high into the air before. He wondered; how high could he jump?

There was one way to know.

Stepping as far back on the roof as possible, he had his eyes set on the roof across from him. He hesitated for what seemed like so long until finally he started running. His eyes shut instinctively out of fear, but his body kept moving without permission. It was as though something was calling to him, telling him to jump and that he would be ok.

And he listened to it.

When he opened his eyes, he had jumped far into the air, soaring far over the roof he had aimed for. The wind blew through his face; his eyes were shielded by his glasses. It felt as though he was flying like the heroes in his comic books. Comparing himself to them, all he could do was smile with tears of joy in his eyes. The moment was overwhelming.

When he landed, he immediately jumped again, wanting to experience that feeling of freedom forever. Flying through the air as he did, he felt a sense of joy he thought he never could; a joy he thought he didn't deserve. There was nothing holding him down; the chains of the many voices of authority couldn't reach him up there. He kept jumping every time he landed, unable to help letting out a cheer every now and then. Is this what freedom felt like? Is this what Kendo wanted him to understand?

Is this his confidence?

One final leap brought him soaring across the park Kendo had previously brought him to. When he landed, he stumbled and fell onto his back with contagious laughter. His glasses were tilted out of position, and his face was covered in leaves and dirt, but he didn't care. He just couldn't stop laughing from the experience no matter how little sense it made. Despite being a man of science, for just a moment, he didn't care for the explanation.

Little splashes were heard just out of eyesight. Looking up, he saw the pond Kendo had shown him the other day, where a frog had just leaped onto a Lilly pad. The surface of the water rippled from the pad and vanished, but his memory still pictured it there. Even though it faded, he could still feel its presence there no matter how hard he tried to forget.

Ripples in water …like ripples in reality …

It was strange, and he couldn't describe it, but he could swear there was something else in the water. He crawled closer to it and peered gently forward to see his reflection. At least, it was supposed to be his reflection, but that isn't quite what he got.

Instead, what met him was a boy his height and build. He copied his movements down to the smallest detail as a reflection would, but it wasn't Peter, at least, he didn't think it was. The boy—he assumed it was a boy—was wearing a strange red and blue costume. A web design was scattered all over the red with two eye lenses mimicking an insect. No, not an insect, he thought, not quite. It was more like an arachnid.

A spider…

"We do what we can with what we have, and that's all anyone can hope for."

His aunts voice spoke softly in his mind. She sounded tired, yet happy. Why did the sound of her voice make him feel so sad?

"I am happy" said another voice.

His eyes drew to a pebble lying next to his hand, and he picked it up as though it was the most fragile thing in the world. He held it up to his face as his strange reflection did the same.

Ripples …

He stood straight looking down the pond and its great reach. With his strength, he'd reach the end with ease. His uncle taught him how to throw pebbles when he was younger. He said to always be sure the flat side was what bounced off the water. He even made a game out of it. Or was it someone else who taught him that game?

"I am …" He paused, pulling the pebble back, "Peter Parker."

With a powerful and swift throw, he tossed the pebble across the water.

In his eyes, the rippled created by the water reached beyond the pond and into the ground, the air and the trees. Light seemed to erupt from it as the sun bounced from its surface. The water was filled with images that made him lose his breath. Every image was accompanied by words spoken by someone of significance, people he only remembered in that moment.

Mina Ashido…

"I feel important to him, and it makes me happy."

Momo Yaoyorozu…

"What we do know is that you inspire us to be better."

Kyoka Jiro …

"…I'm not going to be scared anymore."

All Might…

"You must be able to keep striving and fighting for what's right."

Izuku Midoriya…

"You're right …the world won't wait for me!"

Itsuka Kendo …

"We're in this together, remember?"

The tears returned to Peters eyes, only this time, he allowed them to fall. Who he used to be would have covered up his sadness in fear of rejection. Fear that those he loved wouldn't want to deal with what he was going through. For a time, he forgot the lesson that took so much to learn. To be sad is ok, because those who truly love you will be there to support you. Shutting them out only makes the pain worse.

He had forgotten, but now he remembered everything.

Slowly, Peter removed his glasses from his face; he no longer needed them. His sight was perfect, more than perfect in fact. Wearing the glasses now only hurt his eyes. These little things used to cause him so much agony. They defined who he was for everyone who didn't care enough, but not anymore.

He dropped the glasses and watched them fall to the ground as the lenses pop out.

He knew who the boy in the reflection was now. He was more than a boy; he was a man.

And this man was pissed.

In his distraction, he failed to see the storm clouds quickly coming in. It took only a few moments for thunder and lightning to start within the dark sky, acting closer to the city's surface than anyone was comfortable with. It was just like before; unexplained storms of great magnitude without even a drop of rain to accompany them. He knew now that it wasn't just a phenomenon; something—or someone—was causing this.

He looked at the sky like a map. Somewhere out in the city was someone he needed to find. He found her once before, but lost before he was able to stop her. This time, when they met again, he wasn't going to lose. He was going to fix this, and stop her.

"Mayume Aihara," Said Spider-Man, "What the hell did you do to the world?!"