Chapter 60: Birthday Song - Part 7

Tick, tick—the clock hands moved forward.

An emergency special news report played on the TV.

The slice of cake left on the table waited for someone who… would never return.

…The phone, the one Dad had bought for the person it waited for, began to ring.

I hurriedly picked it up and answered.

…Because deep down, I hadn’t given up on the faint hope that maybe—just maybe—Dad wasn’t really dead.

“…………”

“It’s me.”

It was Fury’s voice.

Annoyed, I opened my mouth.

“What do you want?”

I knew I was taking it out on him.

I also knew I shouldn’t.

“…First, let me offer my condolences. Your father was a good, exemplary man.”

“…I see.”

I didn’t want to accept that my father was dead.

But… even so…

I already knew how easily people could die.

I wasn’t the same as before.

I wasn’t just a regular high school girl anymore.

“…How are you holding up?”

“Terribly. I mean… what do you expect me to say?”

“You’re right… I’m sorry.”

Fury apologized without hesitation… which felt oddly rare to me.

“So? What do you want?”

“It’s about what happens now. I… I’ll be your legal guardian. If you want, that house is still yours. Got it?”

“…Is Papa really dead?”

“…Yes. I didn’t confirm it myself, but an agent I trust did.”

My throat felt dry.

I took a sip from the soft drink on the table.

Sweet. So sweet—the taste of sugar spread in my mouth.

“I see… I get it.”

“There’s just one thing I need to say.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t try to handle this alone.”

I held my breath.

“…You say that like you know everything.”

“You’re still a child.”

“But I have power.”

“Even so, you’re still a child.”

I felt irritation rise toward Fury.

“A child, a child—that’s all you ever say!”

“Listen. You’re not in a position to take responsibility yet. If you… if you were to be killed by that criminal, who do you think would take responsibility?”

“…………That would be…”

“It would be an adult. Me. I’m the one responsible. It’s not that I don’t want to take responsibility. But as an adult… I can’t just let you do something reckless.”

From Fury’s words… I felt a kind of kindness, and I gave a small, bitter smile.

No. That’s not it.

He’s probably just using me—I reminded myself.

“Listen to me, Gwen Stacy. Don’t even think about trying to catch the killer on your own… let alone killing them.”

“I never… thought about killing them.”

“But you can’t deny that you’re thinking of catching them alone. Am I wrong?”

I went quiet.

Because he hit the nail on the head.

“I just… I just don’t want anyone I care about in this city to get hurt again.”

“I understand how you feel. But leave that to the professionals.”

“What about you? Why aren’t you doing something?”

I asked bluntly.

“I’m in Egypt right now. I don’t just protect New York. I have to protect the entire world.”

“Wow… that’s a big job. I—”

“I’ve already sent in agents. So we don’t need your help. Understand?”

“…Understood.”

I reluctantly agreed.

“…Doesn’t seem like you really understand. I’ll be in touch again.”

“…………”

“I’ve hired a babysitter. For you. At the very least, you’re to act alongside him—”

I hung up.

I looked at the phone on the table.

Then I slowly opened it and browsed through the stored photos.

Ned.

Peter.

Michelle.

…All of them, my precious friends.

The murderer who killed my father, Cletus Kasady, was likely still hiding somewhere in New York.

……If.

By any chance…

If one of my friends…

Was killed…

I turned off the screen and placed the phone back on the table.

The intense anger I felt toward my father’s killer turned into a rush of dopamine.

That was something the symbiote loved.

Feeding on my anger, Gwenom would grow stronger.

“Mom… do you want to kill the bad guy?”

Gwenom asked.

I replied.

“No. I just want to catch him.”

I stood up from my seat.

“Why not? Bad guys should just die.”

“I want to follow in Papa’s footsteps. It’s the law that brings justice to the wicked… I just want to catch them.”

I put on my jacket.

“…I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t understand yet. But… this anger—it’s here so we can do the right thing. Together, we’ll catch him.”

“…………”

“So please. Help me, okay?”

“…Got it, Mom.”

“Good girl.”

I opened the door and stepped outside—

Only to see a stranger standing in front of the swing Dad had built.

“…Who are you?”

A deep blackish-green rider suit.

Dark green protective gear.

A large mask covering the mouth.

Jet-black goggles.

Well-groomed blond hair.

…That hairstyle—I recognized it.

“…Harry?”

He pulled down the mask and removed his goggles.

It was definitely Harry Osborn.

“What’s with the outfit?”

“…That doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does.”

“I want to talk about you. Why did you come outside?”

Harry questioned me seriously.

I picked up on what was going on and responded.

“Oh, I see. Fury sent you, didn’t he? To make sure I don’t go out and do anything reckless. A babysitter. A watchdog.”

“I don’t care about that. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“…I just want to catch the person who killed my dad. So that no one else ends up like him… or like me.”

“I see.”

Harry lowered his eyes.

“Don’t get in my way.”

I let Gwenom cover my body.

But I didn’t want to fight.

Harry was my friend.

I wanted to fight to protect my friends—hurting one would defeat the purpose.

Just as tension crept into the air, Harry sighed and shook his head.

“No, Gwen. I’m not here to stop you… And Fury didn’t give me a strict order to stop you either.”

“…What?”

Even as I spoke, I didn’t cancel the merge with Gwenom.

“Fury knew you’d try to go alone… and he also knew you wouldn’t stop unless someone tried harder. Both he and I understood that.”

“…………”

I went quiet.

It annoyed me—how Fury always acted like he knew everything… and the worst part was, he was usually right.

“That’s why he asked me… to judge for myself.”

“To judge me?”

“Yeah. If you were acting out of rage—if you were losing control—he told me to stop you, no matter what.”

Harry pulled a syringe from the pouch on his hip.

That was… a sedative. A concentrated Vitamin C-based suppressant for symbiotes.

Then he tucked it back into the pouch.

I released the Gwenom form.

I saw no intent in him to stop me.

“But right now… I don’t think you’re like that. Not like I was.”

“Like you… before?”

I didn’t get what he meant, so I asked.

“There was a time… when I wanted to kill the person I thought had murdered my dad. I was ready to break the law. I just wanted to lash out.”

“…I see.”

“But you’re different. You just… want to stop the killer’s rampage. You want to protect people… and that’s something I can relate to. You’re incredible, Gwen.”

“It’s not that big a deal, really.”

I let out a sigh at how highly Harry was overestimating me.

“No, you are an amazing person. That’s why you were chosen… by Fury. By the symbiote.”

I… could only stay silent.

Harry put his mask back over his mouth and adjusted his goggles.

“I’ll help you. To achieve your goal… it’s safer with two than with one, right?”

“…Did Fury ask you to?”

“Don’t be mean… Yeah, he did. But it’s also what I want.”

“…I see. Thank you.”

“I’m not exactly the kind of guy you should be thanking.”

Harry pulled out two boards from his back and snapped them together.

They had built-in engines, and once combined, the board floated in the air.

Sensing his intent, I merged with Gwenom.

“I can stay merged for three hours.”

Thanks to my training, the continuous fusion time regulated by S.H.I.E.L.D. had been extended.

Still… was this really something that could be wrapped up in just three hours?

“Then we’ll settle it within that time.”

But Harry shut down that concern with confidence.

Then he stepped onto his flight board.

“Do you have a lead?”

“Yes… Gwenom senses threats lurking in the city. A few, at least. We’ll flush them out one by one and take them down. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Let’s go—just the two of us.”

“No… three of us. Gwenom makes three.”

I extended tendrils from my hand like web strings and launched myself upward using a streetlight.

Harry soared beside me, surfing the air on his flight board.

Two shadows vanished into the night city.

---

"It's been a while. A month, I think."

"...Yeah."

"...You don’t seem well."

Standing before me was a man wearing a black mask glowing faintly in purple.

Tinkerer.

"I was honestly surprised. Getting a call from you on a day off—I rushed to get ready, you know?"

"I see... So, were you able to prepare what I asked for?"

"The suit, you mean? Of course. I haven’t finished the latest one yet, but just in case something came up... I always keep a few things ready."

"Sorry to ask, but then I’ll—"

"But what are you planning to use it for?"

His question caught in my throat.

I had anticipated it.

But in the end, I couldn’t come up with a convincing excuse.

"...A friend of mine might be killed. I just want to protect them, that’s all."

"I see..."

Tinkerer crossed his arms and nodded.

The mask shimmered eerily in purple.

"But is that really something you should be doing? This is a matter of the surface world, isn’t it?"

"It is."

"I know about it, you know? About how you got shot in the stomach last month... and ended up in the hospital."

"What of it?"

"You’re getting too involved."

The air grew heavy.

His usual flippant demeanor was gone.

Even without seeing his expression or hearing it in his voice, I could tell.

He was angry about something.

"...That’s..."

"The hospital records, the blood data, the DNA information—they were all altered by the organization. To erase your traces. Do you understand? If you take action... the organization, Unseelie Court, will be right behind you."

I stayed silent.

I could only stay silent.

"If this keeps up, you... they'll begin to question your loyalty to the organization. And when that happens, you’ll die. Or worse—be removed from this city and turned into a lab subject. You’d suffer more than death."

"...Even so."

I forced the words out.

"Even so, if it’s to protect someone precious to me, I don’t care about my life... or my position. I don’t care what happens to me."

I don’t care what happens to me.

Even if the organization disposes of me. Even if I’m banished from this city.

As long as I can save them, that’s enough for me.

"Don’t care what happens? ...There are people who care about you. They’ll be heartbroken."

"...What does that matter? It’s none of your business."

The words came out sharper than I expected.

This had nothing to do with Tinkerer.

I didn’t want him speaking on behalf of my friends.

And time was limited.

If I wasted it here arguing... if Gwen or Peter were killed in the meantime... I’d never forgive myself.

"I worry about you too. That’s why the suit—"

"You’re not my friend, or my parent, or my sibling, are you?"

Even I was surprised by how cold my voice sounded.

"...Ah... yeah, you’re right. I’m not your friend, or your family. Right... right."

That’s why, when Tinkerer visibly flinched—even through the mask—I felt a stab of guilt.

What I said was true, but still... it was cruel.

"...Sorry, Tinkerer. I went too far."

"No, it’s fine. It’s my fault... yeah, that’s right. Sorry."

His vague reply left a tight pain in my chest.

What is this feeling?

It’s not like we’re even close... so why does it hurt this much?

As I tried to make sense of this inexplicable pain, Tinkerer spoke.

"I saw my little sister in you."

"...Sister?"

"Yeah. My sister. You... you really remind me of her. Even though I know you’re different, I just can’t help it."

I frowned slightly at his confession.

...So that’s why he’d been kind to me.

So it was nostalgia, then.

I don’t intend to look down on that.

Nor do I deny being seen as someone else, projected onto me through memory.

The feeling I held in that moment was—

"...You’re kind."

"...What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I just thought—you’re a kind person."

Even if the feelings he had for me were originally meant for someone else... the emotion of caring for another was genuine.

That’s why, all the more, I knew I had to apologize.

"...I’m sorry, Tinkerer. But I still need the suit... please."

"...Alright. Just give me a moment."

Tinkerer began working on his tablet.

A familiar suit, mounted on a cargo lift, was revealed.

It was...

"...My old suit?"

It was the armored suit that should’ve been destroyed.

But its appearance had changed somewhat.

The color—was pitch black.

Even the protective components were entirely black.

The signature red mask was now a polished, obsidian black.

"This one’s made from spare parts," he said.

"Spare parts?"

"Yeah. In case we ever lost any vibranium, I made these replacement pieces out of a special alloy. It’s a downgraded set, basically a patchwork of inferior materials."

So the black suit in front of me—was made of different material than the one I normally wore.

From vibranium alloy to a special metal... a considerable downgrade.

But vibranium was a rare resource.

Most likely, the damaged components of my original suit had already been repurposed into the in-progress newest model.

"The internal systems are the same, so it should feel the same to wear. But the armor won’t be nearly as durable... and there’s no shock-absorption functionality either."

He always seemed happy when explaining his creations.

"...Still, this is more than enough. Thank you, Tinkerer."

"You’re actually thanking me? You must really be desperate right now."

"I am. I was panicking. But still—"

I looked up at the black spare suit standing upright like a mannequin.

"...This isn’t Redcap."

It wasn’t red.

It was pitch black.

"Right? If you’re trying to operate under the radar of the organization, this version’s actually better, isn’t it?"

"That’s true."

The glossy black faceplate reflected my face.

"...What’s its name?"

"Huh?"

"The suit’s name. A name matters. It gives form and meaning to what something is."

"Ah... in that case—"

Tinkerer glanced at the all-black suit.

"...How about 'Nightcap'?"