Chapter 46: Brand-New Power - part 5

Blue skies.
The blazing sun.
A white sandy beach.

And a crowd way bigger than expected.

…I stood there on the sand, holding a folding parasol and a cooler box.
Ned was doing the same.

The fine white sand felt good underfoot, but it reflected the sunlight so well that, combined with the sun above, I felt like I was being grilled from both directions.
…I did put on sunscreen, but honestly, I'm still worried.
By the time we head back, I might be bright red.

Right now, we're at Miami Beach.
It's day two of our summer trip. With almost the entire day free, everyone in class has gone off on their own to sightsee or have fun.

Wearing just our trunk-style swim shorts, Ned and I were waiting for Gwen and Michelle.

…Ned spoke up.

“H-Hey, Peter?”

“…What?”

The heat was making me sluggish, so my reply came out lazy.

“Think we can just set up the parasol now? It's way too hot, and the sun’s brutal… and the girls are taking forever.”

“Ah… yeah, that might be a good idea.”

We were waiting in front of the changing rooms, but… the girls were taking longer than expected.

…I’d heard girls take more time changing, but under this direct sunlight, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.

I left Ned to wait by the changing room and went to look for a good spot.

…Somewhere not too crowded, and not too far away.
After walking a bit from the changing area, I found a spot I could compromise on and set up the parasol.

I laid out the mat, pushed in the plastic stakes.
With the cooler box in place… we had a beach base that could hold up even in the wind.

…Shifted the cooler box a little.
Pushed the stakes in a bit harder.
Tilted the parasol for better shade.

I wasn’t doing it for anyone in particular, but my perfectionism kicked in as I adjusted everything—
　
“Oh, you already got it all set up? Thanks~”

Gwen’s voice came from behind.

I turned around.

There she was, in her swimsuit.

Black, covering her torso from just above the bellybutton all the way up to her neck—a very modest design.
But the bottom half was more like a bikini.

A bit of a rare combo… but it suited her.

She wore it confidently, and I found myself staring for a moment.

“Hmm? Did I just knock you dead with my sexiness? …Too bad, nerds aren’t my type.”

“Haha…”

Still, I couldn’t help but think—it’s kind of understated, considering how flashy she usually is.

Behind me, Ned sighed and set his stuff down on the mat.

Our change of clothes was still in the lockers in the changing room.
All we brought out here were drinks, snacks, and a beach ball or two.

…Wait.
Where’s Michelle?

I looked around—and spotted her hiding behind Gwen.

Gwen’s tall, and Michelle’s pretty small, so I guess it’s easy for her to stay out of sight.

“Come on, Michelle.”

Gwen turned and gave Michelle a gentle push forward.

Ah, right.
She mentioned being embarrassed about her swimsuit… back at the library.

Michelle stepped forward.

…If I thought Gwen’s swimsuit was modest, Michelle’s was on a whole other level.

On top, she had on a white, short-sleeved rash guard with a zipper down the front.
On the bottom, a pale blue swimsuit with frilly, skirt-like trim.

……Okay. I held it together.

I’m fine.
I didn’t lose it.

The modesty was more than I expected, and I somehow—really somehow—managed not to react.

…Doing everything I could to keep my eyes from drifting to her bare legs peeking out from under that skirt-like bottom, I opened my mouth.

“M-Michelle, that swimsuit really suits you.”

My voice cracked a little as I said it.
So much for keeping it together.
Gwen was half-smiling at me like she’d just caught something hilarious.

Mr. Stark once told me,
“If a woman’s wearing something different than usual, always compliment her.”

So… with more courage than I’d need to leap off a hundred-meter-tall building, I forced the words out.

A beat of silence—tension.

Then, Michelle gave a small smile and nodded.

“Thanks. Gwen helped me pick it out.”

Gwen folded her arms and grinned, looking mighty proud of herself.

---

Ned was struggling to inflate the beach ball.
The air pump seemed old—partly broken, maybe—making a feeble shuko-shuko noise without much resistance.

Gwen, meanwhile, was laughing out loud at the sight while sipping a drink from the cooler box.

…It was a tragic scene.
The image of the exploiter and the exploited laborer.

A miniature of modern society.

When the conversation came up about who’d watch the stuff, Ned was the first to volunteer.

But Gwen said it was unfair for him to be alone and plopped down beside him.

In the end, we decided to split into pairs and take turns playing, so Michelle and I had come down to the water.

“…It’s lukewarm.”

Michelle dipped a toe in and tested the water’s temperature, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute the sight was.
The sun had warmed the seawater, making it feel pleasantly tepid.

“This your first time at the beach, Michelle?”

For the record, this isn’t my first.
…Though, the reason is pretty unpleasant—I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with human-trafficking mafias from Chinatown as Spider-Man.
They try to smuggle people overseas, and I end up fighting them from time to time.

I’ve been thrown into the ocean more than once.
When seawater soaks into the suit, it clings no matter how many times I wash it. The fishy smell never really goes away…
Eventually, I have to replace the suit entirely, so I’d really prefer not to fight near the ocean.

And besides, the “ocean” I’m talking about isn’t anything like Miami Beach.
It’s murky, polluted water where industrial waste gets dumped.

As I tried to repress the memory of the stench creeping back into my head, Michelle spoke.

“I’ve been in the ocean before… but this is my first time here.”

…Her phrasing was a little vague and unusual, but I nodded anyway.

Probably “here” as in this country.
Michelle did say she wasn’t originally from around here.
She mentioned once that she was born in a European country called Latveria or something.

“I’ve seen the sea a bunch of times, but… not often, really.”

Michelle said that with a look on her face that made it clear—she didn’t have the best memories of the ocean.

So I said,

“Then we’ll just have to make sure you enjoy it.”

I figured, vaguely, that if she had bad memories, maybe we could overwrite them with good ones instead.

Michelle looked a little surprised at my words.
She probably didn’t expect me to say something that forward.

Then, she smiled—genuinely, and happily.

“Yeah, I think I can make some good memories… with you, Peter.”

…Okay, but please don’t mess with my heart like that.
Every word she says is like a sneak attack aimed right at my emotions… it’s not good for my heart.

Michelle stepped into the water and ran her hand along the surface.
Every little movement she made was graceful.
Not a single wasted motion—everything was precise and elegant, like refined table manners.

Maybe she used to do ballet, or rhythmic gymnastics, or some other sport that involved graceful movement?

I didn’t know.

…Maybe I really don’t know much about Michelle at all.

Falling for someone just from what’s on the surface makes me pretty shallow.
But the glimpses of who she is on the inside—kind, thoughtful, gentle—are the only sides of her I’ve seen.

I couldn’t help but think she was beautiful.
Like her eyes—like the clear cobalt-blue ocean that stretched before us.

Someday, I hoped she’d tell me more about herself.
And when that day came, I wanted to be someone worthy of hearing it.

Not just strong, not just smart—but kind, and respected by everyone.
That kind of Peter Parker.

“…Peter?”

“Huh? Wh-what?”

I’d been staring off into the distance.
Michelle was looking at my face.

“You were spacing out.”

“Ah—sorry.”

“No, I’m not blaming you. I was just wondering what you were thinking about.”

…There’s no way I could say it.

“Just… that it’s beautiful.”

You are—

“Yeah. The sea’s really clear and beautiful today.”

Ah. Right.
Of course she didn’t get it.

“By the way, Peter. That thing on your wrist—your usual watch?”

Michelle asked.

“Oh, yeah. It’s waterproof.”

She was pointing at the watch Mr. Stark gave me—my nanotech suit.
I wasn’t planning to wear the suit during this trip, but… better safe than sorry.

Still, today’s a break.
At least during this summer trip, I really don’t want to wear it.
I just want to enjoy summer… as a regular student.

We’d wandered a little farther from the shore and were now waist-deep in the water.
We didn’t plan to go any deeper than this.

But even just here, it felt like the crowd had thinned, and the two of us were in our own little world.

I looked back toward the beach… and saw Ned and Gwen far off in the distance, struggling together to inflate a float ring.

Ah—Ned’s distracted.

His gaze had wandered… toward a beautiful woman.

Gwen noticed immediately and kicked him squarely.
Ned rolled across the sand.

I watched the whole thing with mild exasperation.
It’s hard to believe Gwen had been hospitalized for a whole month—she’s as energetic as ever.

Then I heard Michelle’s voice behind me.

“…By the way, Peter. There’s something I want to show you.”

I turned around as she spoke.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

As I looked over… Michelle had her hand on the zipper of her rash guard.

And then—

zzi-zzi… zzziiip—

“Wait—”

She started unzipping it.

For a second, I forgot to breathe.
My thoughts froze.

W-what is she doing!?

She pulled the zipper all the way down and opened up the front of her rash guard—

“W-wait! Michelle, you can’t just—!”

I immediately averted my gaze as fast as humanly possible.

“…What’s wrong, Peter?”

Her puzzled voice made me cautiously glance back—and there, between the open edges of the rash guard, I saw the top of a bikini.

…O-of course.

Obviously, it’s a swimsuit. Of course it is!

Her fair skin, and the top that matched the bottom—same color and everything.

I knew that.
I knew it was just a swimsuit.

But seeing it peek out from under the shirt-like rash guard stirred up this overwhelming feeling of guilt.
Like I was seeing something I wasn’t supposed to.

Splash.

I scooped up seawater with both hands and flung it into my face.

“…Peter, what is going on with you?”

Ugh. Now my wet hair stuck to my forehead, and my lips tasted faintly salty.

Still, I managed to calm down a little—enough to look Michelle in the eye again.

“Ah, I just… got some sand in my eyes.”

“S-sand?”

She looked confused, but I tried to steer the conversation in the other direction.

“That swimsuit looks really good on you. But… why did you want to show it to me?”

She’d clearly been embarrassed about it.
It wasn’t hard to guess she wore the extra layer specifically so no one would see it.

“Because I wanted you to see it.”

Ugh.

I pinched my thigh.

Okay. Still sane. We’re good.

Still, a line like that—someone might take it the wrong way.
I know what kind of person Michelle is, so I’m not misinterpreting it, but still.

Even I, like Gwen, felt like giving her a little scolding.

Just in case someone ends up hurting her one day.

“I see… Well, I’m happy you did. But, you know, if you say stuff like that to just anyone—”

“I wouldn’t.”

Michelle cut me off.

“I only say that kind of thing to you, Peter.”

Time stopped.

“…Huh?”

“Because—”

I focused all my attention, making sure I wouldn’t miss a single word.

“Because you’re a gentleman, Peter.
No matter what happens, I know you’d never lay a hand on me.”

...If I had to describe this feeling right now.

It’d be like checking your New Year’s lottery ticket and thinking you might’ve hit the jackpot. The numbers are lining up one by one, and you're already dreaming of being a billionaire… but then the last number’s totally off. Close, but not even close.

Yeah, that kind of feeling.

“Haha...”

It’s the worst. I got myself hyped up, then crashed all on my own. So if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.

Michelle’s probably an assassin, out to give my heart a shock so intense it explodes. No doubt about it.

Even though my mood took a nosedive, I put on a cheerful laugh so she wouldn’t notice.

And just then—

A scream echoed in the distance.

I turned toward the sound...

…It was a giant water monster.

“...Ugh.”

It looked like a huge humanoid figure made entirely out of water, several meters tall. Right by the shore, it had grown massive—and was holding someone in its hand.

I recognized it.

Its name was… Hydro-Man.

He could turn into liquid, or absorb liquid to grow even bigger. A villain with superpowers like that.

Last time I ran into him, he was trying to kidnap a woman.

I fought him once. Just once.

But now he was way bigger than before, and I immediately realized—he must’ve absorbed seawater.

“…Peter, look at that.”

“Michelle, we need to evacuate.”

I grabbed Michelle’s hand and ran toward Gwen and Ned.

“Ah—hey, Peter!”

“Sorry! I strayed off! We have to run!”

I joined Gwen and Ned as we fled together.

…That’s right. I’m supposed to be on vacation today.

Spider-Man’s on vacation, too. So helping people and all that... Oh, come on!

“Sorry, I just remembered something I forgot! Ned, Gwen—take care of Michelle for me!”

“Wait, Peter!?”

I heard Gwen shouting. Ned too.

But I didn’t look back.

I ran the opposite way through the crowd, against the flow of people trying to get away.

There’s no such thing as a day off for a hero.

Even if I feel like crying, if someone’s calling for help—

Then I…

I strapped on the miniaturized web-shooters hidden in my swim trunks. Ducking behind a wooden structure, I popped open my wristwatch.

I activated the nanomachines and suited up.

I’m Spider-Man.

I fired a web-line from the shooter and used a palm tree to swing through the air.

I landed right next to Hydro-Man, the giant made of seawater.

…The fine grains of sand made the footing slippery.

I’d have to be careful. If I didn’t adjust for that, I could take a hit.

“OO...OHH!”

Hydro-Man let out a deep, growling roar, trying to intimidate me.

“You’ve absorbed so much seawater... you know that much salt’s gonna give you high blood pressure, right?”

I switched the settings on my new web-shooters. From Web Type 1 to Type 4—Shockwave Mode.

Then I pressed the trigger with my middle finger.

Just like with my web shots, I aimed precisely and fired a shockwave straight at him.

…Okay, technically it’s a weapon I “borrowed the concept” from Shocker. Or, let’s say I took inspiration from him.

The mechanism’s totally different, though. It emits multi-gigahertz vibrations.

Power source? The watch on my wrist—repurposed from Mr. Stark’s nanomachine suit.

The invisible shockwave slammed into Hydro-Man’s side, blowing off a chunk of seawater.

He lost a part of his body and wobbled unsteadily.

“GU...OHH!”

I switched back to Web Type 1 and shot a line at the man Hydro-Man was holding.

I reeled him in, caught him with both arms, and set him down safely.

“Th-Thanks, Spider-Man.”

“You’re welcome! But if it’s all the same, maybe save the thanks for later—like, after you’re done running?”

He gave me a quick look back, then took off.

That’s one hostage out of harm’s way.

“OHH! DON’T GET IN MY WAYYY!”

With all that seawater he’d expelled, Hydro-Man had shrunk a little.

But that didn’t mean I could relax.

Because this was the ocean. He could pull water from anywhere and regenerate endlessly.

Sure enough, the sea around him swirled into a whirlpool, and he returned to full size in seconds.

“Now then… what to do next…”

Shockwave blasts are limited.

They drain a ton of power from the nanomachine suit.

The suit holds a decent charge overall, but… yeah. If I waste shots, I’ll regret it.

…Wait.

Am I actually kind of in trouble right now?

That thought had barely crossed my mind when—

“Yo, Spidey! In a bit of a bind, huh?”

A cheery voice called out from behind me.

I turned around—

“Wait—ugh...”

“‘Ugh’!? Excuse me? Did I just get an ‘ugh’ from you? What’s that about? Seriously? Is that how you treat your dearest buddy? That’s harassment. Harassment!”

He wore a red suit—redder than blood. So red it was almost vulgar.

A tight costume of red and black, with a mask like a black-eyed panda.

Brown leather pouches strapped to his hips and thighs.

Two swords on his back.

Dual handguns holstered at his sides.

He was the last person on Earth I ever wanted to see—my number one least-wanted.

“I came all the way out here to help you, Spidey! ...Okay, not really—I had other business, but still! You could at least show some gratitude! In fact, how about a little fanservice as a token of appreciation?”

“Absolutely, positively not…”

His name is Deadpool.

Insane, vulgar, rude, violent, untrustworthy, borderline villain, and just an all-around piece of trash.

Self-proclaimed friend of Spider-Man.

And a mercenary for hire.

“OO...OH… OH!”

“Hey, Spidey. That guy only says ‘Oh.’ What’s up with that? Did the vowels A through E murder his family? Or is he just an idiot?”

“W-Well, I won’t deny the idiot part… but when he absorbs too much water, his sense of self weakens and his intelligence drops.”

“Huh... Is that in the Encyclopedia of Dumb Villains or something?”

“WOOOOAAAHHH!!”

With a furious roar, a massive seawater arm slammed down between me and Deadpool.

Sand exploded upward, leaving a crater where the fist landed.

“Whoa! This is no time for small talk!”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Spidey. This is actually important.”

“What is!?”

I dodged Hydro-Man’s follow-up strike.

Deadpool did too.

Honestly, I had to admire how he never ran out of dumb chatter even in a situation like this.

“That suit you’re wearing—is it a makeover? Kinda different from the last one?”

“Not the time to talk about that!”

I fired a shockwave from my web-shooter, blasting Hydro-Man’s arm apart.

“Whoa, that’s awesome! Okay, if he’s weak to shockwaves, I’ve got a great idea.”

“Then please do it! Now, preferably!”

“Okay! With love and explosives, from your friendly neighborhood me.”

Deadpool pulled something round and green out of his pouch.

He slid a finger through the pin—

“Hey! What the hell are you doing!?”

I never say “what the hell” to people. But this guy is the exception.

Deadpool tossed several of the green balls with the pins pulled.

Those were—

“Every good movie needs a big explosion ending.”

—grenades.

Everyone nearby, myself included, got blown away.

A strand of seaweed slapped itself onto my head.

...Yeah. I really hate that guy.