Chapter 83: My Love, Your Love – Part 1

The day before Halloween.

And here we are—Midtown High School.

It’s still a little earlier than the start of class.

Michelle had said she had something to take care of today, so she’d come in ahead of time.
That’s why I haven’t seen her yet.
…I asked if I should go early too, but she turned me down with a “Don’t bother.”

Feels a little lonely.

While I was stowing my things in the locker, someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

"Hm? What is it—"

"Yo, Peter. Trick or treat!"

Standing there, with a black hood pulled over his head and a pale white mask covering his face—yeah, I could tell from the voice. It was Ned.

"…Ned, what are you even doing?"

"What do you mean, what? It’s Halloween."

I pulled out my phone and checked the date.
Yep, Friday, October 30th.

"That’s tomorrow."

"Tomorrow’s the weekend, right? So it’s today. Look."

I gave a wry smile at Ned’s words.
Maybe because I’d come in a bit early, the hallways weren’t very crowded yet—but sure enough, there were a few people wearing odd costumes.

"See? Today’s the one day you can cosplay and get away with it."

"I don’t think it’s illegal any other day either…"

"Think about it, man. You show up to school in the morning, and suddenly your classmate’s the Emperor of the Galactic Empire. What would you do? Me, I’d cut ties right then and there."

"Then maybe I’ll cut ties too."

"No, no, today’s different. Today you can even fall to the Dark Side and it’s fine."

I couldn’t help snorting at that.
Grabbing my textbooks out of the locker, I tucked them under my arm and walked past the self-proclaimed Galactic Emperor Ned.

"So? Trick or treat. Don’t tell me you don’t have any candy on you?"

"I don’t… I didn’t even know today was supposed to be a Halloween pre-festival thing."

"What? How’d you not know? Nobody in class mentioned it?"

I smiled so much my cheeks were starting to cramp.

Ned seemed to catch on… and turned his face away. Hard to read his expression under the mask.

"Well, hey, cheer up. Here, take this candy."

"Sometimes pity hurts more than insults…"

Ned shoved a chocolate bar with caramel and nuts into my hand.
A pretty filling snack, actually.

"But seriously, you should carry some candy. Don’t come crying when you get pranked."

"Yeah, yeah… but who’d even come up to me like that anyway?"

"……"

Ned went silent.
Funny—I almost wished he’d argue back.

"By the way, Peter, you’re not gonna dress up? ‘Cause just in case, I brought a Jedi Knight costume—"

"Cosplay’s a bit… I don’t know, feels like too high a hurdle for me."

"But c’mon, Peter. You’re practically cosplaying all the time anyway."

"That’s not cosplay."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a guy in a Spider-Man mask.

Every so often, I see Spider-Man merch—figures, masks, even Spider-Man-shaped ice cream.

Not like I ever gave them permission.
Am I just free-use material or something?

Then again, Mr. Stark’s the same—Iron Man figures and merch are all over the place.
How does that even work with image rights? Honestly.

"Ah, my bad. You’re right about that."

"It’s fine. Doesn’t bother me."

I split off from Ned and headed to class.

When I opened the door—yep, talking with him had killed some time. The room was starting to fill up.
And… about eighty percent of them were wearing some sort of costume.

Guess that makes me the minority for just showing up as usual.

I pulled out my chair and sat down at my usual desk—

"Trick or treat."

Someone called out to me.

When I looked over—it was Gwen.

Her usual black headband had sprouted horns today.
Her lipstick was black too, nails painted to match.

It was unmistakably Gwen, with just enough extra flair to make it a Halloween look.

"…Sorry, but I don’t have any candy today."

"What? Why not?"

Gwen gave me a look of genuine disappointment.

Hey, not my fault—I didn’t know.

"Then I guess I’ll just prank you. Something so humiliating you’ll never be able to show your face in public again—"

"Ah—here, take this."

I quickly handed her the chocolate bar Ned had given me earlier.

Gwen frowned.

"Ugh, I don’t like these. They stick to my teeth."

"You steal it and then complain? That’s selfish."

"I’m a devil, remember?"

With that, Gwen touched her headband, showing off the little horns, and grinned mischievously.

"Still… I’ll keep it."

Despite her words, she slipped the candy into a pumpkin-shaped bag.

…Huh. She even brought a bag for this.

That caught me off guard. Gwen noticed my expression and narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"I just… didn’t think of you as the type to take part in stuff like this."

"Hmm? Well, this year’s special."

She leaned on her desk with a smile.

"Special how?"

"Because it’s our last year of high school. I figured I should at least try things while I still can."

"Ah… right."

She wasn’t planning to go to college. She’d told us she was going to work instead… though I was pretty sure it was with S.H.I.E.L.D.

I knew she was bonded with the Symbiote, but she didn’t know that I knew.
So of course she never told me the truth.

Awkward, but… I hadn’t told her about being Spider-Man either. So I guess we were even.

And then—

"Peter. Trick or treat."

A familiar voice came from behind me.

Michelle.

I spun around in a hurry—

"Whoa—!!"

The sound burst out of me before I could stop it.

And the owner of the voice… looked more confused than I was.

"W-what’s wrong…?"

That sweet, girlish voice was coming from behind the mask of a Ghostface killer.

The white face was smeared with fake blood—splattered and streaked like real gore.
Honestly? It was creepy as hell.

Gwen just stared, exasperated.

"…Michelle."

"Huh? Did I… do something wrong?"

The slasher tilted her head, her killer’s mask gleaming red, while her voice rang like a silver bell.

"Not cute at all…"

"…Not cute?"

Gwen’s words made Michelle sound genuinely confused. She opened her mouth to argue back.

"But Gwen—Halloween’s supposed to be about wearing scary costumes to drive away evil spirits…"

"Wait, are you being serious right now?"

"Eh…?"

Michelle tilted her head toward me.
Her face—or rather, the mask—was terrifying.

Honestly, that slasher mask from the movies did not suit her one bit.

I had to agree with Gwen.

"Michelle… to be honest, Halloween’s become kind of hollow these days. It’s more of a cosplay festival than anything else."

"N-no way…"

Michelle slumped her shoulders, looking crushed.

As a Halloween costume, technically, Michelle was the one in the right.
I didn’t want to shoot her down for it… but it just didn’t fit her.

Still, she didn’t stay dejected for long. Michelle straightened back up, determined.

"A-anyway… trick or treat…!"

Even so…

"Sorry, Michelle. I don’t have any candy right now…"

I really didn’t. I’d given the last of it to Gwen earlier.
All I had left was my sandwich for lunch.

"I… see…"

Michelle looked honestly hurt.
…Was candy really that important to her?

That’s when Gwen leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"In that case, you should just prank him."

"Prank him? …What kind of prank?"

Not much of a whisper—she hadn’t even bothered to lower her voice.
I could hear every word. So what was the point of whispering?

"Hmm… let’s see…"

Gwen glanced at me, and Michelle followed her lead.
Then Gwen grinned, looking wickedly pleased.

"So, Peter—what kind of prank would you like us to do to you?"

"W-what? I don’t want to be pranked at all!"

The words slipped out before I could stop myself.

Who in their right mind would want to—
Wait. A prank. From Michelle?

…N-no. Cut that thought off right there.

"Hmm, then how about we doodle on your face?"

Pop!

That was the sound of Gwen pulling the cap off a permanent marker.

Michelle immediately protested.

"G-Gwen… that’s a little mean!"

"It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s Peter, after all."

While my basic human rights were clearly being treated with very little respect… the school bell finally rang.

Class was starting, so everyone settled into their seats.

…Saved. Somehow.
If I was lucky, this whole thing would just fade away.
Though knowing Gwen, she’d probably keep it alive for a while.

Michelle, apparently realizing it might be a bad idea to sit through class still wearing a Ghostface mask, pulled it off.

Her platinum-blonde hair, usually flowing free, had been tied back with a clip—probably to keep it from getting in the way under the mask.

…Maybe the mask had been suffocating too, because even though it was autumn, a light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin.

And that’s when I noticed—her nape, bare and exposed, right in front of me from my seat behind her—

"…Peter? Something wrong?"

Her cobalt-blue eyes glanced back at me.

"N-no, nothing at all."

I quickly turned my gaze away.

She gave me a curious look, then turned her attention back to the teacher standing at the podium.

…Wait.
She’s just going to leave it like that?

Every time I tried to look up at the whiteboard, my eyes inevitably drifted back to Michelle’s nape—
and that was how I somehow survived through class.

---

After School.

In the end, thanks to Michelle’s neckline, I couldn’t focus on class at all.
Not a single thing stuck in my head.

How pathetic.

…Also, apparently the prank has been postponed until tomorrow.
Something about not being able to come up with anything.

…If I buy her some marshmallows at the school store now, maybe she’ll forgive me.

And Michelle—

“…Heh.”

She was in a pretty good mood.

The reason was obvious.
It had to be the mountain of snacks stuffed inside her bag.

Michelle loves sweets.
That must be why she’s so happy.

The ghost mask, the Ghostface get-up, and even the black hood-like cloth had all been tucked away into her bag.
Seems like she doesn’t want to cosplay outside of school.

Well, Halloween isn’t until tomorrow anyway, so fair enough.

Her hair too—unfortunately, she’d taken off the hairpin. …No, not unfortunately. That’s not what I meant.
Yeah, it’s fine. My head’s still perfectly sane.
I’m not losing it or anything.

Anyway, her hair was back to its usual style.
A little frizzy from being trapped inside the mask, but she didn’t seem to care.

Of course, Gwen had immediately dragged her off and fixed it up in the bathroom.

And that brings us to now.

Michelle finally tore her eyes away from her snacks and looked straight at me, her gaze sharp and lively.

“Peter, what time are you heading out tomorrow?”

…Tomorrow?
Was something happening?
We hadn’t made any plans to go out together.

When I tilted my head in confusion, Michelle tilted hers right back.

“Huh? Peter?”

“S-Sorry, Michelle… wh-what are you talking about?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Because I’m confident I’d never forget a promise made with Michelle.

Which is exactly why I was so confused.

“…Harry’s Halloween party.”

Michelle pulled her phone from her breast pocket and fiddled with it a little.
Then she held the screen up for me to see.

It was an email.

“This… you didn’t get it?”

The sender was—Harry Osborn.
And the contents? An invitation to a Halloween party.

“Eh?”

I… didn’t get anything.

“But Gwen said she got one.”

“Ugh—!”

I staggered back.

No way… Was my friendship with Harry really that shallow?

Or was he only planning to invite girls?
…No. Harry’s not like that.

Then why?
I can’t imagine he’d just forget.

Just in case, I pulled out my phone and checked my inbox…
The last message I had was from Aunt May.

Not like I get many emails anyway.
With Michelle, Gwen, Ned—we just text like normal kids.
It’s not that I don’t have friends or anything like that—

“…So you really didn’t get one?”

“Y-Yeah. Looks like it.”

“……”

Michelle gave me a suspicious look.

The email clearly said each person could bring one guest.
Meaning, if she wanted, Michelle could invite me and we’d go together.

But… why didn’t Harry send one to me?
And if he deliberately didn’t…

Michelle was probably thinking the same thing.

She hesitated for a moment, then looked back at me.

“…Alright then. Peter, let’s go together?”

“Eh, but—”

Is it really okay?
Wouldn’t I just be a burden?

Michelle ignored my hesitation and gave a small smile.

“It’s fine. Without you, Peter… it just wouldn’t be as fun.”

My heart skipped a beat.

If she said that on purpose, then she’s a dangerous girl.
…But most likely, she’s just being natural.

“…Alright. Thanks, Michelle.”

“Mm.”

Another memory with Michelle.
That alone made me really happy.

But then, Gwen’s words echoed in my mind.

“This year’s the last.”

Once we graduate from this school… the chances to see Michelle will shrink.

I’ll be going on to college, but Michelle plans to get a job.

And it’s not guaranteed she’ll stay in New York.
If she moves farther away… it’ll be that much harder to meet.

And then… maybe she’ll forget all about me.

Because Michelle’s cute, and no matter where she goes, she’ll definitely make new friends.

She’ll forget the me she doesn’t see, get close to new people, and…

Someone else will be the one standing at her side.
Michelle will smile.
And I—

If Michelle’s happy, I should be able to bless her from the bottom of my heart.

But just imagining it… left a dull ache deep inside my chest.

Graduation—the time limit—was closing in.

If I wanted to stay as someone special to her even after graduation… I’d have to confess.

But if she turned me down… then there’s no way things could stay the same between us.

That thought terrified me.

And so, I couldn’t summon the courage.

---

And then, the next day.

Michelle was wearing a black dress, while I had on a coat.

It was a Halloween party, but apparently not a costume party.
That much had been written in the email.

As for Michelle’s dress… it was the same one she’d worn back in summer.
It wasn’t too revealing, but I still thought it looked a little thin.

Which is why I blurted out—

“Are you cold?”

Such a thoughtless thing to say.
Instantly, I felt a wave of self-loathing.

I remembered Gwen once saying: “A guy who comments on a girl’s fashion deserves to be kicked to death by a horse.”
She’d been genuinely terrifying when she said it.

Michelle laughed at my awkward expression.

“I’m pretty resistant to the cold.”

She said it casually, without any trace of bravado.

…But that answer basically admitted she was cold, didn’t it?

Fashion is sacrifice.
That was something else Gwen had said.

We shared a cab and headed to Harry’s place in Manhattan.

And then—

“W-Whoa…”

It was dozens of times bigger than I’d imagined.

Of course… Harry was the son of Oscorp’s founder.
It made sense that the house would be huge.

In fact, Harry had already taken over as CEO of Oscorp.
CEO of Oscorp and candidate agent for S.H.I.E.L.D.—

He was practically like Mr. Stark.
CEO and Iron Man, that kind of deal.

Dozens of people in suits and dresses were streaming through the gates.
The crowd was massive.

…So Harry had invited others too.
This wasn’t just some get-together. It was a full-scale Halloween party.

I instinctively took a step back—only for Michelle to give me a gentle push forward.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“Y-Yeah.”

So much for my pride about escorting her.
It was shattered completely.

I refused to trail behind her like some kid, so I forced myself to walk at her side instead.
…Even if my knees were a little shaky.

Michelle showed her email to the attendant and we went in.

The massive garden had rows of tables covered with food.
Pumpkin-shaped lanterns were strung about.

There were some people our age, but everyone there sparkled like they belonged in a different world.

I couldn’t shake the feeling I didn’t belong.

Michelle, on the other hand, walked with complete composure, completely unfazed.

And of course she did.

She was stunning.
Beautiful, cute… more dazzling than anyone else here.

Which is exactly why I understood the glances aimed my way.

Why is that guy…?

Not disdain, not contempt.
Just pure disbelief.

Even without eating anything, my stomach already hurt.

…Was this why Harry hadn’t invited me?

If I let go of Michelle now, these stares would crush me completely.
So I stuck close to her side like a remora fish.

Dragging me along, Michelle approached a table and picked up a glass.

Not of a drink—
It was pudding. Bright yellow… probably pumpkin pudding.

She scooped a spoonful and tasted it.

“…Delicious.”

Watching Michelle smile like that eased me a little.
She was just the same as always.

And if she was the same… then I’d be fine too.
I didn’t need to care about anyone else’s eyes.
As long as I only looked at her—

“It’s really good, Peter. You should try some too.”

“Eh?”

Michelle scooped up another spoonful of pudding—
and brought it toward me.

“…Here.”

She was going to feed me.

…An indirect kiss. That’s what this was.
My face burned hot.

Stars spun in circles inside my head.
At least, that’s how it felt.

But Michelle, face completely calm, brought the spoon to—

Chomp.

—her own mouth.

“Eh?”

“Heh. You said you were planning a prank, remember?”

I let out a heavy sigh.
Relieved… and yet, somehow, a little disappointed too.

Ignoring my complicated feelings, Michelle was already moving toward another table—or more precisely, toward the sweets laid out on it.

I scrambled to follow, but—

“Peter.”

A voice called from behind me.

One I knew well.
I turned.

“Harry?”

“Knew it was you. Got a minute?”

Michelle hadn’t noticed us.
Her eyes were fixed on cake.

…If Harry didn’t call out to her either, then clearly this was something he only wanted to say to me.

I steeled myself and followed him.

We stepped away from the center of the garden, slipping behind a stone pillar.
The shadows dimmed the light.
Perfect for a hushed conversation.

Harry looked… troubled.

…It wasn’t going anywhere if I stayed silent.
So I opened my mouth.

“W-Why didn’t you invite me to the party?”

My first words were pathetically weak.

Harry smiled at me.

“Because, Peter… I don’t have your email address.”

“That’s… you could’ve just called me!”

“True. But… I had something on my mind.”

“…Eh?”

Something on his mind?
So I really was left out on purpose?

I couldn’t remember fighting with him… did I do something to make him hate me?

“I figured… you might come along with Michelle.”

“O-Oh, I see… wait, really?”

“I was betting on whether you would or not.”

A bet?
I’m not a racehorse, you know!

“H-Harry?”

“Not with money or anything. Just with myself.”

“…And if I hadn’t come?”

“Then I would’ve made my move.”

The anger that almost bubbled up inside me died when I saw how serious his expression was.

What replaced it was a deep unease.

“What… were you planning to do?”

Harry hesitated.
Not long, but not brief either.
He just looked at me in silence.

Then suddenly, his eyes shifted—
toward Michelle, smiling as she ate a ghost-shaped cake.

Finally, he spoke.

“…I was going to confess to her.”

“…Huh?”

My brain short-circuited.

C-Confess?

Harry…?

No, wait—of course, Harry did like Michelle. But… confessing? For real?

While I stood there, stunned, Harry let out a self-mocking laugh.

“But since you’re here, I won’t.”

“Uh… sorry?”

If he’d thrown this whole party just to confess to Michelle, then yeah… I guess it made sense not to invite me.
And now that I was here, I kind of regretted it. I’d ruined his one big chance.

But Harry didn’t look the least bit bitter. His expression stayed calm.

“It’s fine. Honestly… I had a feeling it’d turn out this way.”

“…What do you mean?”

If he was ready to confess only if I wasn’t here—then why did he expect me to show up in the first place?

Was it possible he never really intended to confess at all?

“I realized something. Michelle already has you, Peter. Or maybe… I should say I was forced to realize it.”

He started speaking almost like he was talking to himself, ignoring me completely.

“The one person I deliberately didn’t invite—she brought him along anyway. That says a lot, doesn’t it? Just how important you are to her.”

“T-That’s…”

“So I won’t confess. Feelings for someone who doesn’t share them? That’s nothing but a burden, right?”

The resignation in his eyes stung.

“I’ll take these feelings to the grave.”

“Harry… but—”

“Don’t pity me, okay? That’d just make it worse.”

He stepped out from the shadow of the pillar, into the light again.
But the face I saw wasn’t the usual Harry, brimming with confidence.
It was… weak. Vulnerable. Almost like mine.

“I’m still going to talk to her. At least let me have a little time alone with her, yeah?”

“…Yeah. Of course.”

“Then excuse me.”

He walked away from me and over to Michelle, speaking to her in a casual tone.
From here, I couldn’t hear what they said—but he already looked like his usual self again.

…Harry.

Why?

Why didn’t I feel happy about this?

Him giving up should’ve been a relief.
He’s taller, better-looking, richer, kinder…
Any girl would choose Harry over me.
Even Michelle—surely—

But I wasn’t happy. Not one bit.

What I felt was… a heavy fog, pressing down on my chest.

I made him give up? No. I’m not someone that important.
Michelle and I… we’re not even anything more than friends.

That shouldn’t be reason enough for him to stop.

Cheering on a rival in love… it’s absurd. But I didn’t want him to give up.

Maybe because… I still haven’t worked up the courage to confess myself.

What right did I have to stop him?

Determined, I started to move toward Harry again—

When suddenly:

“Hey, you all alone too?”

So, he spoke to me.

“Um… and you are?”

I looked at the man addressing me.

He seemed a little older than me.
Probably an adult.

He wore a green suit, and his features were strikingly sharp.
Light blonde hair, cobalt-blue eyes.

…Somehow, he reminded me of Michelle, but his easygoing attitude made it clear he wasn’t really similar.

“I’m just a lonely guy myself.”

…I thought I was asking his name, though.

“H-Huh…?”

I frowned in confusion, and the man in the green suit laughed.

“Well, I heard this was a Halloween party, but nobody’s dressed up… so I felt a bit out of place.”

“Dressed up…?”

Sure, the green suit wasn’t exactly normal, but what kind of costume was that supposed to be?

“A ‘Leprechaun’—an Irish fairy. A shoemaker fairy. Well, I don’t actually make shoes, though.”

“Uh… I see…”

I couldn’t help but shrink back a little.
He seemed like a very chatty person.

But he didn’t seem like a bad guy.
…Right now, I wanted to focus on Harry and Michelle’s conversation, but ignoring him outright felt rude.

So I resigned myself and settled in to listen.

“I run a clock shop in town… and Mr. Norman, Harry’s father, has been a long-time customer. We’ve been family friends since my father’s time.”

The man spoke about his life without even giving his name first.
I narrowed my eyes—strange, out-of-order, but oddly charming.

“Um… excuse me, but what’s your name?”

I couldn’t help but ask.

“My name? Well—”

The man straightened his collar.

“Phineas Mason Jr. But you can just call me ‘Phineas.’ Don’t worry about being formal.”

His eyes, a deep, oceanic blue, stared straight into mine.