Chapter 71: Stay With Me – Part 1

Time passed…
No, that sounds too poetic for what’s really been going on.

After all, it hasn’t even been a month since the whole Cassidy… Carnage incident.

Summer vacation ended, and now it’s September.

Which means: new semester.
And, new school year.

We’re seniors now—fourth-years.

Me, Michelle, Gwen… and of course, Ned too.

…My history grades weren’t so great, Gwen’s a bit weak at math, and apparently Ned was in trouble with both.
But we helped each other out, studied together, and somehow survived the make-up classes.

…Though in my case, the main problem was missing too many days.
Being a hero eats away at your personal life.

And so—New York in autumn.
The trees in the park are starting to turn yellow, and for a little while we can finally say goodbye to the heat.
Some days are already chilly, so I’ve started wearing something over my shirt…

But that’s just the same as every year, nothing worth fussing over.

What matters is that we’re seniors now.
In other words—this is our graduation year.

…I lower my gaze to the sheet of paper in front of me.
One plain white sheet on my desk.

It’s a career path survey.

It’s not like the school will be sending out applications for us—everyone applies on their own, and there’s essays, recommendations, interviews… all kinds of things to prepare.

This paper is basically just a questionnaire so the teachers know where everyone’s headed.
That way they can offer support and advice to those planning to continue their education…

So this won’t lock in my future or anything.
I could write something half-hearted, even just a vague idea.

…Still, deciding on your future “half-heartedly” at this point in the year probably isn’t the smartest move.

I wrote my name and “Empire State University” under “career path.”
Then I folded the paper in half and dropped it in the box at the front of the classroom.

Gwen wrote something down too and put hers in.
She didn’t seem troubled at all.

And then… Michelle’s pen wasn’t moving at all.

---

“Peter.”

“Hm? Gwen—what’s up?”

I was stopped by Gwen in front of my locker.

We still had fifteen minutes before the next class… enough time, though not enough to have some long conversation.

Oh, right.
I’d heard from Harry that she’s actually an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
It’s hard to picture, and I’m still acting like I don’t know.

If I acted like I knew, that’d be weird… and if I dug into it, my identity as Spider-Man would probably come out.

So, I just keep things the same as always.

…Still, it was unusual to see her without Michelle.

She motioned for me to come closer, then tugged my ear and whispered.
…Ow, that kinda hurt.

“…Michelle’s been looking down lately, don’t you think?”

“Huh? She has?”

Smack—she kicked me in the thigh.
It didn’t hurt, but I could tell from that alone my reply had been the wrong one.

“You know why?”

“N-no… I didn’t even notice…”

She sighed.

“Do you actually plan on making Michelle happy?”

“Uh—w-well, yeah.”

The sudden question made me flustered, but I still nodded.
Still, Gwen didn’t seem convinced.

“Tch… answer faster next time.”

“S-sorry.”

“…Whatever. Here.”

She pulled something from the pocket of her jacket and shoved it into my hands.

Two slips of paper.

…Movie tickets?
Looks more like vouchers.
Free passes for NY Cinema—good for any movie, one showing per ticket.

So that’s two movies total.

I had no idea why she was giving them to me, though, so I asked.

“Uh… what’s this for?”

“…Guess that was a bit too hard for a nerd to figure out.”

She folded her arms and looked away from me with another sigh.
Okay, maybe I’m slow on the uptake, but is it really worth acting like that? Not that I’d say it out loud—unless I wanted another kick.

Gwen, still looking exasperated, spelled it out for me.

“Take those and ask Michelle out. She likes movies, right?”

“Oh, yeah, she does. So I could buy another ticket and we could go with Ned, the three of us—”

Smack! This time the kick to my thigh had a bit more force behind it.

“Wait—”

“Seriously, you’re unbelievable. Too unbelievable. Just go the two of you… that’s the point.”

Her words made my eyes go wide.

“But… wouldn’t that kind of be a date—?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Geez, maybe I should just root for Harry instead? …Sometimes I feel like giving you advice is a total waste of my time.”

Her words were so brutally sharp they almost shattered my spirit.
But she had hit the nail on the head… so all I could do was apologize over and over.

“O-okay, got it, sorry… I’ll ask Michelle. But… will she even say yes to just the two of us?”

“She will. Absolutely.”

That confidence probably came from the fact she wasn’t the one asking—and because she was a girl herself.
For me, asking a girl out on a date is a once-in-a-lifetime ordeal.
It takes a ridiculous amount of courage…
More than standing in front of a gun barrel, honestly.

“So maybe tomorrow, or the day after, or—next Monday—”

I stopped mid-sentence when I saw Gwen shift her foot back.
If I kept talking, she’d definitely kick me.

“…I’ll go ask her right now.”

“That’s better.”

The satisfied nod she gave when I slipped into polite speech just came naturally.

I headed toward the area with the girls’ lockers.
Gwen followed, keeping just enough distance not to draw attention.

…She didn’t want Michelle to realize she was meddling in my invitation, but she clearly wanted to see how it played out.

Michelle was at her locker, staring blankly into the little mirror on the inside of the door.
…Yeah, maybe she really was feeling down.
At the very least, something was definitely off.

…Why hadn’t I noticed before?
Was it just me being oblivious… or had she been putting on an act whenever I was around?
No… that’s probably overthinking it.

Most likely, I’m just slow.

I crept up behind her without a word.
…Too nervous to speak up, I kept missing my chance to start the conversation.
Just when I thought I’d gotten a bit too close—Michelle suddenly turned around.

“Ah—”

Startled, she jerked back.
Her foot caught on the edge of the locker and she nearly fell—

“Whoa—”

I reached out instinctively… but if I only grabbed her arm, she’d still smack the back of her head.
So I caught her by the shoulder and pulled her toward me, bracing my other hand against the wall.

Michelle looked up at me in surprise.
It was only a small difference in height, but she was definitely looking up.

…Seems she was unharmed.

“Y-you okay, Michelle?”

“…”

Her usually expressionless face twisted slightly.

…And that’s when I finally realized.
I was still holding her hand, blocking her in with my arm against the wall… and we were way too close.

The faint scent of shampoo—or maybe perfume—tickled my nose.

“S-sorry! Michelle!”

I quickly released her and stepped back.
Her expression eased just a little at my apology.

…What was that expression?
It didn’t quite seem like she was embarrassed…
Was it maybe hiding embarrassment?
Or was she annoyed… or shy… or—ugh, what if she was just creeped out?

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, Peter.”

Her faint smile reassured me she didn’t hate me, and I finally exhaled.
My heart was still pounding like crazy.

“R-really, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I told you, I don’t mind. Really.”

When I apologized again, she smiled like she’d just seen something amusing.

“So… what’s up, Peter? Did you need something?”

“Ah, uh—yeah, about that…”

I showed her the two tickets Gwen had given me.

“Want to go see a movie together?”

“Sure.”

The answer came instantly.
I thought she might take a moment to think it over… but I was glad.

“Th-then… how about after school today—”

A prickling pain shot through the back of my neck.

My super-senses—Spider-Sense—were going off.

I instantly turned around and saw Gwen glaring at me from behind a pillar, wearing an absolutely fearsome expression.

Eh!? That’s a no!?

“What’s wrong?”

I quickly turned my gaze back to Michelle and hastily denied it.

“Uh, n-no, nothing at all?”

“…Really?”

“Really, really. About the movie… today’s not gonna work after all, so… would tomorrow—Saturday—be okay?”

The prickling sensation disappeared.
Guess that was the right move.

“Mm, sure. Actually, I had something to do today anyway.”

“Oh, I see… Th-then, tomorrow, okay?”

“…Hm? Did you get that?”

Still nodding, Michelle tilted her head at my jumbled, nervous words.

After parting with Michelle, I walked over to Gwen, wearing the face of a man who’d just accomplished something.
No kick came flying my way.

“Barely a passing grade.”

“R-really?”

“Out of a hundred, thirty-one points.”

…That’s way too harsh.
That’s practically failing.

“And the breakdown?”

“Thirty points for catching Michelle when she almost fell. Five points for postponing it to tomorrow. Minus four for not realizing it yourself. Total: thirty-one.”

She laid out the details with ridiculous precision.

…Wait a second.
So there’s no extra credit for the way I invited her?
The only points I got were for catching her and for doing what Gwen hinted at.

“By the way, why wasn’t today okay?”

“It takes time for a girl to get ready. You can’t just take her to a movie in the same clothes she wore to school. It’s a date, you know?”

“Ah… yeah, I guess you’re right?”

I didn’t fully get it, but… maybe she had a point.

“Besides, if you go to a movie today, that’s all you can do. If it’s Saturday, you can see the movie at noon, then have lunch together, and find some reason to extend the date.”

“…I see.”

As expected of Gwen.
She’s like a romance guru.

…Even though I’ve never heard of her having a boyfriend.
Ned said guys don’t approach her because she’s way too strong-willed.

Apparently, that wasn’t just Ned gossiping—it’s something Gwen herself told him.
Her type? A super-handsome guy who’s rich, kind, and knows how to escort a lady.

…Yeah, that guy doesn’t exist.

“By the way—”

Gwen cut off my train of thought.

“Peter, do you even have clothes for a date?”

“D-date clothes? What’s wrong with this?”

I pointed at what I was wearing now.
It wasn’t exactly the same, but I was planning to wear something similar.

Gwen let out a sigh at my answer.

“Unacceptable.”

“Wh-what’s wrong with it?”

It felt like she was flat-out denying my fashion sense, so I couldn’t help but ask.

“That long-sleeved plaid shirt, those worn-out chinos—”

“What’s wrong wi—”

“Nerdy.”

Guh.

A direct hit to my soul.
The pride I’d been trying to protect was shattered into tiny pieces.

“…You don’t have anything else?”

“N-no… the only real difference is the color, it’s not that different…”

“Did your aunt buy those for you?”

Indirectly, it felt like she was saying my sense was outdated, or that I dressed like some guardian would pick out for me. It stung more than a straightforward critique.

“No, I buy them myself.”

“…No hope, huh.”

Gwen patted my shoulder and gave me a face full of disbelief.

For a while, we were both silent.
The awkwardness was so thick my mouth felt sour.

Finally, Gwen spoke up.

“Peter, you’re free today, right? I mean, you’re asking her out on a date.”

“Y-yeah. I am.”

“…We’re going shopping for clothes.”

Her suggestion caught me off guard, and I nearly said something out loud.
I didn’t have the money for that.

Sure, it wasn’t long since I got last month’s paycheck.

But between paying Ned back, food expenses, and all sorts of things, I didn’t have much money to spare.

If I bought expensive clothes today, this month’s food budget would be a disaster.

Ignoring my inner conflict, Gwen kept going.

“I’ve got plans tonight too, so I can’t come for long, but since you set the date for tomorrow, you absolutely have to go today.”

“Y-yeah, you’re right.”

She might even be more passionate about this date than I am.
I gave in and nodded along.

“Okay, after school then! Right after afternoon classes, we’ll go. Time’s limited, you know.”

“Yeah… got it.”

After I replied, I remembered Gwen had said she had plans tonight and became curious.

“By the way, you said you’ve got plans tonight?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s a friend. A friend.”

“A friend?”

“A f-female friend.”

Ned said Gwen’s too strong-willed and doesn’t have many friends.
Again, not gossip—she told him herself.

But… until Michelle transferred in, I thought Gwen didn’t really hang out with anyone much…
Yet she apparently has friends she meets outside school.

“…Aren’t you thinking something really rude right now?”

A prickling pain hit the back of my neck.

“N-no, I’m not.”

I hurriedly denied it.

---

A pale-skinned girl’s arm floated inside a case filled with deep green preservative fluid. It was a grotesque sight. …If some stranger stumbled upon it, they’d no doubt suspect it belonged to some vile secret society.

But in reality… this was part of a law enforcement organization that existed to protect the world.

This was one of the research facilities of S.H.I.E.L.D., located in Washington D.C. Specifically, level B6 of a massive underground shelter.

Inside a room with walls painted a faint green, various machines stood crammed together. And in that room, I stood alone.

While reading over documents laid out by a forensic scientist, I waited for the person I had called.

…The door opened, and footsteps approached. Then, a voice addressed me.

“Did you call for me, Fury?”

“Yeah. Captain.”

We didn’t hug or shake hands. We weren’t on such casual terms. Even as comrades protecting the same country, we weren’t friends.

I showed the girl’s arm to Captain America—Steve Rogers—who was dressed in civilian clothes.

“…What’s this?”

“The arm of Redcap.”

The Captain raised his face and glared at me.

“…Why is it here? What happened to the owner?”

“Calm down, Captain. The one who picked it up was your friend.”

The Captain brushed his nose with a finger.

“…Bucky?”

“Yeah… and apparently, by the time he arrived, it was already severed.”

“……”

His sharp, severe gaze remained fixed, even as he looked down.

“The cut is clean… like it was sliced by a finely honed blade.”

“Seems it was severed by a symbiote.”

“A symbiote? …Is she alright?”

“That, I don’t know. She got away.”

At that, the Captain’s expression clouded.

“Even Bucky couldn’t… But with a wound like this, she’d bleed out and die.”

“For an ordinary human, yes.”

“…What do you mean?”

I handed him the autopsy chart—a medical report with details I’d received from facility staff. As the Captain flipped through the pages and read, I spoke.

“That arm had an abnormal property.”

“Abnormal…?”

“A healing factor.”

The Captain seemed to recognize the term and nodded.

“You mean… the regenerative factor Wolverine has? The one that lets his body heal itself?”

Wolverine—a mutant capable of regenerating from virtually any injury. He wielded razor-sharp claws made of adamantium alloy, harder than vibranium. A seasoned hero and a member of the team known as the X-Men. If it were him… he could probably survive even a bullet through the skull.

“…That said, it’s not on his level. Most likely, she’s still alive.”

Hearing that, the Captain looked relieved. …It seemed he cared about her.

Despite having fought against her… maybe it was just his kindness. Or perhaps he simply wanted to save a minor from being caught up in evil.

The Captain believed in the goodness of people. He looked me in the eyes again.

“Were you able to determine Redcap’s true identity from this arm?”

“No… Our database has no record of this fingerprint pattern.”

“…Meaning she has no public criminal record, and she’s never been arrested?”

“That’s right. We can trace close relatives from similar genetic data—information taken from her blood. But… the closest genetic match we found had no surviving family.”

“…So there’s no documentation proving her existence… not in this country?”

“Exactly. So rather than saying she has a true identity apart from Redcap… it’s more accurate to say that she is Redcap. She has no other identity.”

“That’s… far too sad.”

The Captain folded his arms, wearing a troubled look. His voice carried a note of pain when he spoke again.

“…Then why did you call me here?”

“Because we discovered the source of her enhanced physiology from her arm. And it’s connected to you.”

“To me?”

“To you… and Bucky Barnes.”

The Captain frowned suspiciously.

“The Super Soldier Serum.”

“…That was supposed to have been used up on Bucky. Don’t tell me… someone’s making it again?”

“Yeah… though it’s inferior to what was used on you two. The chances of it permanently enhancing someone’s body are almost zero.”

“That means—”

“It means the risk of side effects is high. And unless it’s used on a still-developing child, it won’t work. …Who knows how many children had to die to produce a ‘successful’ subject.”

The sound of plastic creaking filled the air—the binder holding the medical report in the Captain’s hands.

“…Who’s making it?”

“According to intel from an agent familiar with the underworld… a man calling himself the Power Broker.”

“The Power Broker…?”

The Captain looked startled.

“No, he’s supposed to be dead. He fought me and the Hulk… and in the end, the Punisher killed him.”

“…Curtiss Jackson, right? Yeah, he’s dead.”

The Power Broker Corporation—an organization that repeatedly conducted human experiments in an attempt to artificially create superhumans. I’d crossed paths with criminals who had been enhanced by that company. But its president, Curtiss Jackson, had died over a decade ago.

Given her apparent age, Redcap must have been injected with the serum after that time.

“Then why? …Is someone else using the name?”

“Exactly. Saves me a lot of explaining when you catch on quick.”

I operated the tablet in my hand, activating the facility’s display systems. A hologram projected into the air, showing the file.

Pale purple skin. Yellow eyes with no visible pupils. Short, neatly trimmed white hair. A form that looked anything but human.

“…This is him?”

“Yes. The ‘Power Broker.’ That’s the name he’s using.”

“Do we know anything else?”

“Nothing. Not his real name, not his race… We don’t even know if he’s from Earth.”

“…I see. What about his location?”

“Unknown. But… he’ll be coming to Madripoor soon. One of our disguised brokers will make a deal with him. Of course, it’s a setup of our own making.”

The Captain rested his hand on his chin. He always did that when weighing a difficult decision. And when he did… the conclusion was usually—

“I’ll go with you.”

A small hesitation before sacrificing oneself to a chosen conviction.

“I figured you’d say that.”

When I nodded, the Captain’s eyes hardened.

“…But tell me, Fury. Why are you so concerned about her?”

“Me? …Do I look that way to you?”

“Yeah. You’re not the type to show much interest. And it’s rare for you to dwell on someone—especially someone who could be considered an enemy—when it’s not even a global crisis.”

“Hmph…”

I hesitated. Should I tell him…?

His sharp gaze wasn’t frightening. But trust is always a factor in these things.

I resigned myself to speak.

“Atonement.”

“…That’s not a word I’d expect from you. Atonement for what? Fury, what did you do… what have you done?”

At his pressing, I let out a sigh. There was no avoiding it now.

“You know the country called Latveria?”

“Yeah… the one ruled by that man.”

The ruler of that country had been supplying advanced technology to criminals in order to weaken this nation’s power. It was practically an act of terrorism.

I judged him to be too dangerous to let live. That judgment, I still believe, wasn’t wrong.

He was self-righteous, arrogant… and far too powerful.

“To strip him of his power, I put a plan into motion.”

“…What did you do?”

“I started a civil war.”

At the time, I thought—even if there were casualties—we had to take him down. A war conducted in secret from the government itself… codenamed Secret War.

We infiltrated Latveria and provided support to groups opposed to that man, the absolute ruler.

The result was civil war. I hadn’t intended to spark it, but I acted knowing it might happen.

“Fury, that’s… not something that can be justified.”

“Oh, I know. It was kept secret even from the government… Only a handful in S.H.I.E.L.D. know of it.”

The Captain’s expression grew more severe.

“In the end, we couldn’t drag that man from the throne… and the casualties were heavy. I won’t say it was meaningless, but the result was far too small.”

“…So, she—”

“If my assessment is correct, she’s one of the casualties of that war.”

A short silence passed between us. I drew the pistol from my coat—my constant companion—and handed it to him.

“If you want to shoot me, Steve Rogers, do it. I’ve done unforgivable things. And I will again.”

“…”

The Captain raised the pistol toward me… then lowered it. With a faint trace of contempt in his eyes, he let out a wry smile.

“You’re a sly man.”

He continued.

“You did that knowing I wouldn’t pull the trigger. Just for show.”

“No, that’s not it… but, you’re right about one thing—dying here wouldn’t do. I still have work to finish.”

I took the pistol back and slipped it inside my black coat.

“I’ll never forgive you, Fury. But for the sake of world peace… sometimes a strong leader who’s willing to get his hands dirty is exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D. needs.”

The Captain said it firmly, then turned on his heel and opened the door.

“When the operation in Madripoor happens, you’d better call me. Secrecy is fine, but it’ll earn you enemies.”

“I’m well aware.”

“…We’ll see.”

Once he left, the room was wrapped in silence. Amid the faint hum of machinery, I stared at the slender, pale hand—belonging to someone who likely wasn’t even of age.