Oyoke was like a shadow, but not the cool kind that blended into the background; she was more like the shadow that got in your way when you were trying to take a selfie. Peter Parker couldn't so much as sneeze without her popping up out of nowhere with a handkerchief and a concerned look. It wasn't just annoying; it was like having your mom follow you to college, except Oyoke was six feet of Wakandan warrior with a spear that could split a car in half.
The first week of school after the Avengers' fall was a blur of awkward hallway greetings and frantic whispers about his new "bodyguard." Peter tried to play it cool, sliding through the crowded halls with Oyoke stalking a step behind him. He'd pretend to tie his shoelace so she could pass without knocking anyone over, or he'd suddenly remember a locker combination he'd forgotten so she could catch up. The whispers grew louder when she started sitting in on his classes, her stoic gaze unwavering as teachers stumbled over pronouncing her name. "It's Oyoke," Peter would say with a sigh, "like joy, but with a 'k' at the end."
The only time Peter had a brief respite from her overzealous protection was when he stepped into the boy's bathroom. The door had barely clicked shut when she'd appear beside it, leaning against the wall outside. Peter could almost feel her eyes burning through the wood, ensuring he was safe from... well, whatever dangers lurked in a high school bathroom. It was both comforting and claustrophobic, like having your mom hover while you showered. He tried to sneak in some private time to change into his Spider-Man suit, but she was always there, lurking just outside the stall. "I can handle it," Peter would insist, only for Oyoke to reply, "Duty calls, my king."
Her dedication was unwavering, even when it came to his love life. Peter's attempts to have a private moment with MJ were often thwarted by Oyoke's untimely appearances. The couple would be in the middle of a heart-to-heart, and suddenly she'd pop out from behind a bush, her spear at the ready. "Is there trouble?" she'd ask, her gaze sweeping the area for threats. Peter would awkwardly explain that it was just a misunderstanding, his cheeks burning as MJ tried not to laugh. "Just teenage stuff," he'd murmur, hoping she'd take the hint. But Oyoke was a warrior first and foremost; romance was a concept she took very seriously, especially when it involved the future of Wakanda.
The school band was Peter's one sanctuary, but even that was compromised when it turned out Oyoke had a surprisingly good ear for music. Before he knew it, she was sitting in on rehearsals, nodding along to the beat with a stern look on her face. "You are the maestro," she'd proclaim after a particularly good run-through, and Peter would cringe as his classmates shot him confused glances. He tried to keep her involvement to a minimum, but she had a way of weaseling her way into every aspect of his life, even if it meant learning to play the tambourine with warrior-like precision.
The pressure of leading S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark Industries didn't make things easier. Every spare moment was filled with briefings and strategy sessions, and Peter found himself Googling "how to lead a country" at 2 AM more often than he'd like to admit. The school's Wi-Fi was surprisingly fast, but the librarian was starting to give him weird looks every time he requested books on diplomacy and international trade. Oyoke was always there, her tablet in hand, ready to translate the latest Wakandan customs for him. It was helpful, sure, but it was also a constant reminder of the world outside their little bubble, where everyone expected him to be a hero and a king.