Chapter 112: Amazing Friends - Part 1

I hummed softly as I looked in the mirror.
I washed my face, smoothed down my platinum-blonde hair.
A touch of makeup… then another glance at the mirror.

"…Mm, good."

Nodding in satisfaction, I stepped out of my bedroom’s washroom.
I slipped my makeup pouch into my bag and opened the door.

The hem of my dress swayed as I walked down the apartment hallway.

Today I was wearing a brown checkered dress… a calm, subdued color scheme.
It wasn’t fashion for my own sake, but for the person I was about to meet.
…Well, no—since I wanted him to like me, I suppose it was also for myself.

Anyway, as I walked toward my destination… I passed a dog in the hallway.
The moment we crossed paths, the dog turned its gaze toward me.

『Michelle, heading out now?』

A telepathic voice echoed directly in my mind.

…Yes, this was Cosmo.
The psychic golden retriever.
A fellow resident of this building.

"Mm, just for a bit."

『Hmmm? You’re dressed a little differently than usual. A date?』

"…Calling it a date makes it sound bad."

I frowned slightly, and Cosmo laughed.
…Or at least, it felt like he did.
It’s hard to read a dog’s expression, after all.

"It’s just a date, that’s all."

Yes, a date.
Today was one of my twice-a-week dates with Peter.

『Oh? Then introduce me sometime. I’m curious.』

My eyes wandered.
Peter and Cosmo?
…I couldn’t even imagine how that would turn out.
Cosmo was pretty perceptive—he might even figure out that Peter was Spider-Man.

That would be… a problem.

"…Maybe if I feel like it."

I gave a small wave and walked away from Cosmo.

But really—Peter only had me as a proper friend now.
With the world’s memory of him erased, he was almost completely alone.

…He needed to have others close to him besides me.
And it was my duty to help with that.

…Someday.
It’s still too hard to explain everything, but…
I want him to be friends again with Ned, Gwen, Harry, and the others.

Because I want Peter to be happy.
I want to do everything I can for him.

…Everything, if I possibly can.

My cheeks warmed slightly at my own thoughts, and I quickened my pace out of the building.

---

An eccentric monument shaped like a number stood in the middle of the park.
It was a well-known meeting spot in the city.

Circling the area, I spotted the one I was looking for.
Peter hadn’t noticed me yet—he was fussing with his bangs.

I held back the urge to tease him and quietly approached—

"Peter."

"Oh, morning, Michelle."

"Mm, morning."

It was still before noon.
We exchanged greetings, and I stood at his side.

Peter was just a little taller than me.
Tilting my head up, I looked at his face.

"Peter, it’s still thirty minutes before our meeting time, but—"

The truth was, I’d been too excited and showed up way too early.
And yet, Peter was already there waiting.

"How long have you been here?"

"Ah—well, I just got here myself."

That was Peter trying to save face.
When meeting up, he always arrived early so he wouldn’t keep me waiting.

Still—

"…Heh, guess we both came too early."

"Haha…"

Peter chuckled awkwardly and scratched his cheek.

"So, the plan was the movie theater, but… it’s nowhere near showtime yet, huh?"

He glanced at the park’s clock, and I followed his gaze.

"Yeah, we’ve got two whole hours before the one we want to see."

I laughed wryly along with him.

We’d already planned our movie schedule with plenty of time to spare.
But coming this early, even before our official meeting time…

We’d ended up with a huge chunk of free time.

"Mm… wanna go to a café?"

"Good idea. There’s one near the theater."

Peter and I started walking together.

"Oh, the place with the really good pasta?"

"Yeah, you’ve been there before?"

"Uh… once, together with…"

At those words, I narrowed my eyes slightly.
That "together" meant with me—before my memories were erased.

A sudden tightness gripped my chest.
I hated that I couldn’t remember something we’d shared.

But—

"Was that a date?"

"…Well, yeah. At least, I thought it was."

This time, it didn’t hurt as much.
Because right now, I was building new memories with Peter.

I’d lost a year’s worth of memories with him, but from now on, I’d always be by his side.
We could keep piling up memories together.

I wasn’t clinging to what I’d lost anymore.
…Well, until not long ago, I did feel jealous of the me who still had those memories.

Listening to Peter talk, I smiled softly.
Making memories with someone you love… it’s such happiness.

So much happiness it almost made me worry if it was too much.

…My chest ached a little.
Even though this was supposed to be a fun date.

Suddenly, Peter’s hand brushed against mine.

"Ah…"

And then gently, he held it.

"…………"

I glanced up at his face—it was faintly red.
Even though this wasn’t the first time, he still got embarrassed.

Part of me wished he’d get used to it already, but another part loved seeing him blush like this.

His hand held mine as if it were fragile.
I squeezed back in return.

He must’ve noticed I was about to feel a little down, and wanted to cheer me up.

I wanted to say thank you, but… words of gratitude felt out of place.

"…Peter."

Instead, I smiled at him.
And he gave me that awkward smile of his in return.

A faint warmth passed between our joined hands.
Unlike mine, his hand was rough and sturdy… but reliable.

Our date had only just begun.
My heart was already soaring—

I stopped walking and turned around.

"Michelle? Something wrong?"

I looked back at Peter, who was giving me a puzzled expression, and forced a smile.

"…No, it’s nothing."

I said it firmly, though a trace of unease lingered in me—

"That’s a lie. You’re worried about something."

I couldn’t fool him.
Peter turned his body toward me, looking a little concerned.

…Resigned, I opened my mouth.

"I feel like someone’s following us."

"…Huh? Following us?"

Peter glanced around restlessly.
Then his expression turned doubtful.

"…My, uh, you-know-what hasn’t picked up anything though—"

You-know-what.
That meant his Spider-Sense.
In public, with who knows listening, he avoided saying it outright.
Peter was always careful not to expose his identity.

"If there’s no hostility directed at me, I wouldn’t notice it… hmm…"

Peter frowned, seriously thinking it over.
I lowered my brows.

"Forget it, Peter. That feeling of being followed… it’s probably just my imagination."

"Y-you think so…?"

Why did he look more worried than I was, when I was the one who had brought it up?

As I wondered that, Peter smiled.

"But thanks for telling me, Michelle. It makes me happy."

"…Even though I just made you anxious?"

"It’s fine. When you share your worries with me, it makes me feel like you trust me. That makes me happy."

…Ah, I’d overlooked that.
Not sharing your worries could mean you don’t think someone’s reliable.

I understood, and dipped my head slightly.

"Sorry, Peter."

"No, no, it’s just me being selfish… don’t apologize."

"Then… thank you, Peter."

"You’re welcome."

Peter smiled again.

…He wanted to be relied on.
That was probably because, in the past, I’d tried to leave without relying on him.

Feeling the warmth of his hand still joined with mine, I left the park together with Peter.

---

Amidst the crowd, blonde hair swayed.
She peeked her head from behind the park monument… and I was watching her back.

"…Gwen, let’s stop this already. You almost got caught a moment ago."

I whispered, and she spun around sharply.
Her brows were furrowed.

"Harry, Michelle’s holding hands with some guy she doesn’t even know…! Can you seriously accept that…!?"

"Uh, well… that’s not for us to decide, is it?"

At that, she glared at me.
Gwen was a sharp-eyed beauty.
They say a beauty’s glare is frightening… and I had to agree.

Now, how did we even find out about Michelle’s date?
That would be because Gwen bribed the psychic dog, Cosmo.

She had given him a gift of luxury jerky, instructing him to report if Michelle ever showed signs of going on a date.

And so, this morning, Cosmo spotted Michelle heading out, activated his telepathic psychometry, learned her meeting spot… and passed the info to Gwen.

Me?
I was just dragged here after Gwen called me.
I wasn’t exactly eager about it.

But still—

"……Haa."

I remembered Michelle smiling and chatting with that unknown guy, their hands intertwined.
It left a heavy weight deep in my stomach.

But she looked happy.
So happy.

So no matter who it was… even if I couldn’t accept it, I thought I could forgive it.
Because I wanted Michelle to be happy.

Even if, at that time… I wasn’t by her side.

…

"…Harry?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Don’t space out, okay? Come on, focus… ah, we’re moving."

"Yeah, yeah."

Pathetic.
I still couldn’t let go.
I must’ve zoned out.

…But I couldn’t leave Gwen alone either.
She might go overboard.

I didn’t think she’d ruin Michelle’s date… but you never know.

I felt guilty tailing Michelle, but for the sake of keeping Gwen in check… I hoped she would forgive me.

And so, Gwen and I crept along, hiding ourselves as we followed behind Michelle and Peter.

---

"Then… one of these, the 'Honey and Cookie Crunch Caramel Frappuccino'? Please."

"Ah, I'll have the same."

"Understood, I'll take the menus away now."

The waitress collected the menu that had been in front of me.

We were at a café right next to the movie theater.
…If I remember right, this was Gwen’s favorite place? Wasn’t it?

After a short wait, the drinks arrived.

…Oh, I see. A pretty big glass filled with caramel frappuccino, topped with whipped cream, and sprinkled with crushed cookies.

Feeling my mood lift, I pushed the spoon-straw in and took a sip.

Sweet.
Sweet enough that some people might find it overwhelming.
But I liked it this sweet.
My cheeks loosened into a smile.

…When I happened to lift my gaze, I locked eyes with Peter.
Not just by chance—he had been watching me, and when I looked up, our eyes met.

"…What is it, Peter?"

"Uh, nothing. You just looked like you were really enjoying it… Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare."

"It’s fine, I don’t mind."

…Oh.
Some cream had stuck to my lips. I wiped it with my finger and licked it away—

Ah, that was bad manners.

I glanced over at Peter.
He wasn’t giving me a reproachful look, but his cheeks turned red as he quickly looked away.

…Somehow, that made me feel embarrassed too.

"P-Peter, hurry up and drink yours, okay? Even if we have time before the movie… we might end up being late."

I was just trying to cover my embarrassment.
There was still an hour and a half left, so there was no way we’d be late.

Peter finally took a sip of his caramel frappuccino, and his face softened.

"…Peter, does it taste good?"

"Yeah, it’s good."

A sense of calm spread inside me.

I like sweet things.
They push away bitter, unpleasant feelings.
They let me taste simple happiness on my tongue.
That’s why, when I eat something sweet, I feel happy.

And more than anything—

"…Heh."

"Huh? Michelle, what’s funny?"

"You’ve got cream on your mouth."

Being able to share this feeling with the person I liked—that made me happy.
Happiness grows bigger when shared.
Because it becomes happiness for two.

"Huh?"

"Want me to wipe it off for you?"

"N-no, I’m fine…"

Peter hurriedly grabbed a paper napkin and wiped his mouth.
I smiled at the sight of him looking so flustered.

A year ago, I was terrible at smiling.
But now, I could smile like this… thanks to Peter and our friends.
I could never thank them enough.

…That’s why, no matter what, I wanted Peter—

To be happy.
Not just me, but him too.
I wanted him to somehow reconnect with my friends, to be friends again… That thought had been weighing on me.

While we chatted about recent events, I sipped at my frappuccino.

Of course, this was a public place.
Peter couldn’t talk about Spider-Man, and I couldn’t mention anything about the Avengers Tower.

Naturally, the conversation drifted to Peter’s part-time job failures.

"And then I delivered a cold pizza and got fired. At this rate, I’ll be banned from every pizza place in town…"

Peter slumped forward, looking genuinely dejected.

"Peter… it’s not like you can explain the real reason to them, right?"

"Yeah… I know. But even so, I can’t just quit."

Every time something happened, Peter would rush off to help people.
It was admirable—but society didn’t recognize it.

After all, no one could know about Spider-Man.
An independent hero with no backing was always at risk.
He made enemies of criminals easily… enough that groups like the Sinister Six could form.

That’s why Peter struggled.
From the outside, it just looked like he was skipping out on work.

"…You’re amazing, Peter."

"Huh? You think so?"

"Yeah."

No one ever praised him.
He sacrificed his personal life for hero work, without ever being recognized.
So if no one else praised him… then at least I wanted to.

Before I realized it, my frappuccino was already half gone… and just enough time had passed that it felt right—

Peter’s gaze shifted from me to the TV hanging from the café ceiling.

『Breaking news! There’s a hostage situation at a bank in Harlem, New York—』

On screen, police officers surrounded the bank.
Guns drawn, aimed squarely at the entrance.

…In New York, this kind of news wasn’t uncommon.
The kind of thing you might just shrug off as someone else’s problem.

But—

"……"

Peter narrowed his eyes for a moment, then turned back to me.
The gentle smile he’d worn earlier stiffened, just slightly.

"Michelle, maybe we should get going to the theater—"

"It’s fine, Peter. Go."

I cut him off with those words.

His eyes wavered.
His smile faded, and his brows drew down.

"Michelle…"

"It’s fine. I’ll be okay."

"…B-but—"

Peter hesitated.
Even if he didn’t go, the situation would probably resolve.
Bank robberies weren’t exactly rare in New York.

But still—

"I love that about you, Peter. I’m proud of you… So do what you need to do."

I don’t want to be a burden on Peter.
I don’t want to taint his resolve.

With great power comes great responsibility.

I just want him to share a little of that responsibility with me.
Because as his girlfriend, I’m the only one who can shoulder it in that way.

"…Thanks, Michelle. You really are the best girlfriend."

"…You think so?"

Maybe it’s just because I’m his first girlfriend in this world.
Not that I’d ever ruin the moment by saying something so tactless.

"Yeah, no doubt about it."

Peter placed money neatly on the table and stood up.
…He really was meticulous.

Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded paying for him this time.

"I’ll call you once it’s over!"

Saying that, Peter left his seat and dashed out of the café.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, heading off to work.
And me… I couldn’t do anything.

Nick Fury had forbidden me from using my powers.
I still wasn’t even considered a trainee. My position was left hanging in limbo.
Maybe the staff whispered behind my back, calling me some useless case stuck in Avengers Tower for “mental care.”

I took another gulp of my frappuccino.
Sweet.

But somehow, it tasted less sweet than before.
Logically, the ice had melted and diluted it… but no, it was probably just my mood.

Lonely.
And bitter at my own helplessness.

…I see now. So this was the kind of pain that the girlfriends of Peter from the comics always carried.
It really does hurt.

At least I knew the truth—that Peter was Spider-Man.
Some girlfriends never knew, and even knowing wouldn’t make it easier.

I sipped at the frappuccino again.
It was nearly gone, the sound of the straw loud in the quiet booth.

…A bell rang.

The bell above the café door.

I didn’t pay it any mind and reached into my bag for my phone.
The movie was out of the question now. I’d need to think of something else to fill my schedule—

The footsteps stopped right by me.

"Michelle."

I looked up when I heard my name.
I wasn’t surprised—the voice had already told me who it was.
But I still tilted my head, wondering why they were here.

…Gwen, clutching her upper arm, with Harry beside her shaking his head.
Ah. So he’d tried to stop her, but she spoke up anyway.

"…Gwen? Why are you—"

"We’re sitting down."

Without waiting for permission, Gwen slid into the booth opposite me.

"…Sorry."

Harry, resigned, sat down next to her.
One hand pressed to his forehead, wearing an apologetic look.

…I could already guess.
The two of them had been tailing me and Peter.
Gwen leading the charge, Harry dragged along in her wake.

I let out a wry smile.

"So, Michelle. That guy earlier… he’s your boyfriend?"

"Uh, well… yeah. He is."

When I nodded, Gwen’s brows furrowed.

"Then why did he leave? You were on a date, weren’t you?"

"Uh, well…"

Of course she would ask that.
If I didn’t come up with a good excuse, her opinion of Peter would tank.
But I couldn’t tell her the truth.

Think. I need something… an excuse that won’t make Peter look bad—

"H-he just… um, went to help someone?"

"…Hmph, is that so."

Good. Looked like I managed to dodge it.

"Michelle, you’re being fooled."

Nope. Not dodged at all.

Gwen’s scowling face was impossible to meet, so I turned toward Harry instead.
Only to find him wearing a harsh expression as well.

Then Harry spoke.

"I may not be the one to say this, but… a man who abandons his girlfriend mid-date isn’t exactly praiseworthy."

Ugh. Sorry, Peter.
Your reputation just took a serious hit.

"N-no, that’s not it. I told him it was okay to go…"

I hurried to deny it, but Gwen only furrowed her brows deeper.

"Michelle, you don’t need to cover for a guy like that. He’s absolute trash…!"

Ah, ahhh, oh no!
Gwen’s mad!

And even Harry, who usually plays the role of reining her in, seemed to be silently condoning it!

Peter wasn’t even here, yet somehow he was completely surrounded!

"H-he’s not like that, Peter’s—"

"Oh? So his name is Peter."

A chill ran down my spine.
Had I awakened some kind of super-spider-sense?
No, that wasn’t it.
It was just the dread seeping into me from the terrifying Gwen sitting across the table.

"B-but—"

"Michelle."

This time, it was Harry who spoke.

"This Peter… is he a student? Or does he work?"

"Huh?"

I scrambled through my thoughts—

"Uh, un… unemployed… ah, no, I mean, he does part-time jobs."

"I see."

"B-but he’s studying hard so he can get into college—"

"Michelle, that’s probably a lie."

Inside, I screamed.
I mean, sure, if you only pieced together fragments of Peter’s situation, you really could end up painting him as some kind of deadbeat, abusive boyfriend.

"B-but… Peter’s kind, he really is…"

My voice trailed off as I tried to defend him. Then Gwen cut in.

"Michelle, is he threatening you? Has he been harassing you?"

"H-harassing?"

"Like… does he hit you, or kick you?"

In my mind, a memory flickered—
Of fighting Peter while hiding my identity, getting beaten to a pulp by him.

"N-no, he’s never done anything like that…!"

I shook the thought away and denied it.
…But the denial came just a little too late.

"……"

Harry and Gwen exchanged a look.
All I could do was pray.

Then Gwen leaned forward, glaring at me with a face scarier than I’d ever seen, and placed a hand firmly on my shoulder.

"…Michelle."

"Y-yeah…?"

"You should break up with him. A guy like that’s no good."

My prayer hadn’t reached the heavens.

Now, surrounded by their outrage, I felt suffocated.

But Peter—
Please, just don’t come back too soon.

Because from now on… I’ll do whatever it takes to turn this around.

Is this the "great responsibility" that comes with being Spider-Man’s girlfriend?

It was unbearably harsh. Overwhelming.
Far tougher than that time I infiltrated the Special Cabinet’s underwater facility…

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes before I could stop them.

---

"Hyah…!"

I kicked off a pillar, spinning through the air.
Firing off a strand of web, I sealed the barrel of the masked robber’s gun.

"Mind if I borrow this?"

I lunged at another thug, yanking away his assault rifle.
With a twist of brute strength, I bent it until it was useless.

"Here, take it back. Thanks for lending it to me."

I shoved the mangled scrap back into his stunned hands.

"And here’s the interest."

My fist crashed into his jaw, shaking his brain and knocking him out cold.

That left… three of them.
They had spread out to surround me.

But none of them dared to shoot—too afraid of hitting their own men.
Touching, really.

Better than the type who’d happily fire through their friends.

Still—

"Since we’ve got this many players here… how about we do something a little more fun!?"

I yanked one thug’s feet out from under him with a web, then glued his hands to the floor.

"Like, I dunno—Twister?"

Another one lunged, but I grappled him, threw him across the room—
…oops, maybe a bit too hard.

I shot out a line of web, catching him midair and pinning him neatly to a column.
That should do it.

"Or maybe—"

Just one left.

"—a game of Wild West shootout?"

The guy raised his assault rifle at me, finger tightening on the trigger.

My web shot out first, smacking the barrel and jerking it skyward.
I closed in, swept his legs, then slammed him to the ground, webbing him down tight.

"And that’s game. Next time, bring toy guns. Real ones are dangerous."

Exhaling deeply, I straightened up.
The robbers were all down.
The civilians had already escaped. Now I just needed to hand these guys over to the cops—

…Wait?

Something was coming.

Not hostile—my spider-sense wasn’t reacting.
But definitely approaching.

Glass shattered as something crashed in through a window.

A fireball.
No—someone engulfed in flames.

They landed in the middle of the room.

"…Huh? Already wrapped up?"

The flaming figure scanned the area, then turned to me.

"You did this?"

"Uh… y-yeah."

I answered, though the corner of my mouth twitched.
He didn’t seem to recognize me… but I sure knew him.

Close? Well, yeah, I guess we’d been close.
But along with that closeness came an equal amount of discomfort.

Because this guy was exactly what he looked like—
A walking bonfire of extroversion.
A sunburn incarnate.
Confident to the point of arrogance, and merciless to nerds like me.

We’d fought side by side countless times.
Even thrown punches at each other more than once.
A fellow hero, for better or worse.

Now then—
Who’s the "strongest hero team" in this country?
The Avengers, no contest.

But the "greatest hero team"?
That, I’d argue, was the Fantastic Four.

A family of four, fighting as one, faces bare to the world.

And standing before me was… one of them.

"Impressive. Not only fast on the scene, but you caught them without a scratch! Name?"

The flaming figure—the Human Torch—stood at my side.

The sweat prickling under my suit wasn’t just from his heat.
It was cold sweat too.