Chapter 87: Rainy Days Part 1

It was on a rainy day.

The rain was pouring down, soaking the streets of New York.

And in the middle of it, I—Peter Parker—was completely at a loss.

I was standing at the entrance of Midtown High School.

People rushed past—some in raincoats, some under umbrellas, some just sprinting through the downpour.

In the midst of all that chaos, I looked up at the gray sky.

The rain was heavy.
It didn’t look like it would clear up anytime soon.

Inside the backpack I carried on my shoulders were a few books.

Comics that Ned had lent me today at school.
The backpack was waterproof, but still… if by any chance they got wet—

“Haa…”

I let out a sigh.

I hate rainy days.

Because they remind me of the day my parents were gone.

One rainy day, they went out in their car… and never came back.

That sound of the rain, that scene—it burned itself into my childhood mind.
Something I’ll never forget.

The downpour drummed in my ears.
That same sound always drags me back to that day.
That’s why I hate the rain.

Should I buy a raincoat at the kiosk… or just cover my bag with a plastic bag and make a run for it?

As I was still debating, I felt someone tap my back.

“Peter?”

I turned around—and Michelle was there.

“Oh, Michelle. What’s up?”

“…What’s up? I’m heading home. What about you, Peter?”

We don’t usually go home together.
We walk to school in the mornings, but after that—well, I’ve got my part-time job, and she has her own plans.

She was holding a black umbrella.
…She’d have no trouble making it home dry, I thought.

“I’ll wait a bit. Go home after the rain eases up.”

“…The forecast this morning said it was going to get worse in the evening.”

“Eh—seriously?”

My cheek twitched involuntarily.
That meant I’d better decide now, or I was stuck.

Maybe I really should just grab a raincoat at the kiosk…
If they’re not all sold out, that is.

“Peter… if you want, you can come under mine?”

While I was still worrying, Michelle extended her umbrella toward me.

“But, that’s not fair to you.”

It looked like an average-sized umbrella.
For two people, it was a little small.

That’s why I hesitated—feeling bad about it.

“…It’s fine. Let’s go home together?”

“…Sorry, thanks. You’re a lifesaver, Michelle.”

“It’s really no big deal… you’re so dramatic, Peter.”

Michelle pressed the button and opened her umbrella.
…Yep, definitely too small for two.

“I’ll hold it.”

“Mm.”

I was taller than Michelle.
So it made more sense for me to hold it.

She handed me the umbrella, and together we stepped out into the rain.

…I angled it closer to her side.

My shoulder felt cold, but at least my backpack wasn’t getting wet. That was good enough.

While I was quietly satisfied with that, Michelle edged closer to me.

“Peter, your shoulder’s getting soaked.”

“It’s fine. I was ready to get completely drenched anyway.”

“…In that case.”

Pito.

“…Uh, Michelle?”

Michelle pressed right up against me.

“This way’s better.”

True enough—at this distance, the rain couldn’t reach us.

But still, her slender shoulder was brushing against mine.
Her breath—soft and white in the cold air—fell against my hand.

My cheeks burned.
I worried she might hear how fast my heart was pounding.

“…You okay?”

“Eh? Ah—y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“…Weird.”

The two of us walked through the streets of New York.

The Daily Bugle building’s giant screen was pitch black—probably because the heavy rain had kept people away.
I could just imagine Jameson grumbling, “What a waste of electricity!”

Delmar’s Sandwiches—the shop we always buy lunch from—was dark too.
Guess the owner decided the rain was excuse enough for a day off.

The rain came down in sheets.
Every other sound was swallowed up by it—the only thing that reached our ears was water hitting the ground.

Even my pounding heart, even her soft breath—erased by the rain.

“Peter.”

“Eh!? Wh-what is it?”

Her sudden voice made me jump.
Did she notice how suspiciously I was acting?

“It might be hard to talk about but… have you decided on a college?”

“Th-that… yeah.”

“…That’s great. Which one?”

“Empire State University.”

“Was that your first choice?”

“Yeah.”

“…I’m glad.”

We kept walking, chatting about nothing in particular.
Our shoes splashed through puddles, sending up little sprays of water.

Talking with Michelle, laughing, seeing her smile—
It wasn’t anything special, just another rainy day.

But still… no, it was happiness.
The kind of happiness that makes you wish days like this would last forever.

But time doesn’t stop.

Once winter ends…
Once spring begins…
By the time summer comes… she won’t be by my side.

Michelle planned to work after graduation.
I couldn’t shake the feeling she’d end up far away somewhere.

At the very least, I wanted to tell her that I liked her.
I wanted to know what she thought of me.

But I couldn’t say it.

If I did… I felt like this ordinary daily life we shared would be shattered.
So I stayed silent.

Pathetic.

No matter what superpowers I had, at the core I was just a nerd.
Just like Gwen always said.

“…We’re here.”

Before I realized it, we’d arrived at the apartment building we lived in.

Michelle closed her umbrella and flicked the rain off.
I found myself watching her.

She noticed, and glanced back at me.

“…You could’ve gone ahead.”

“I wanted to wait.”

We rode the elevator together.
It rattled from age, climbing slowly, noisily.

Eventually, it brought us to our floor. We stopped in front of our doors.

I reached into my bag for my key—

“…Huh?”

Michelle’s startled voice made me step closer.
There was a notice taped to the door.

I read it aloud.

“Plumbing failure?”

“Eh…”

This apartment had vertical plumbing.
My room was fine, but… it looked like Michelle’s line, including the floors above and below her, was out of commission.

And if the pipes were broken…

“No water.”

Michelle’s voice was blank with shock.

The notice said it would be repaired by tomorrow afternoon.
But that still meant no water tonight.

No washing up.
No shower.
Not even the toilet.

For Michelle—a teenage girl—that would be rough. I understood that much.

Looking uneasy, she opened her mouth.

“Wh-what should I—”

“Michelle, why don’t you stay in my room until tomorrow morning?”

The words just slipped out… and I immediately regretted them.

Too blunt.

Even if we were friends, inviting a girl into a guy’s room for the night…
That sounded bad.
Creepy, even.

She might hate me for it.

But Michelle just looked at me with a smile.

“…Is that okay?”

“As long as you’re fine with it.”

When I answered without much confidence, Michelle laughed softly.

“Thanks, Peter… then, can I borrow your shower first?”

Even with an umbrella, her clothes had gotten damp.
It made sense she’d want to wash up and change.

I understood.
I really did.

But still—

“O-okay! Sure, yeah, no problem!”

“...?”

My movements grew suspicious without me meaning to.
Because the thought was too much for me to handle—
Michelle… taking a shower in my room?

I pinched my arm hard.
It hurt.

But that was the point—punishment, a jolt to snap me out of it.
A way to keep myself calm.

“I’ll go grab some clothes from my room.”

“Got it. Come by anytime.”

Saying that, I opened the door to my apartment—

“…Ah—uh, Michelle. Actually, could you wait a bit before coming over?”

“…Why?”

“I, uh… need to clean up first.”

On my desk sat the nanomachine fabricator I used for maintaining my suit.

---

“Phew, that should do it.”

I stuffed Stark’s homemade nanomachine maker, the old DIY suit, and all those things I couldn’t let anyone see into a cardboard box… then shoved it deep under the bed.

It’s fine. No one will find out… they shouldn’t.

On impulse, I dragged the box out again, wrapped the top with layer after layer of duct tape, and pushed it back under the bed once more.

Just as I was doing that, the door chime rang.

I rushed over and opened it in a hurry.

…Michelle was standing there, holding a towel and some light clothes.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, all good. Sorry for making you wait.”

“I’m the one borrowing… no complaints.”

Michelle stepped into the room.

It was only the second time I’d invited her in.
The first time was… the day I saved her as Spider-Man.
The day she’d brought over almond tofu.

She glanced around the room curiously, then looked back at me.

“Peter, did you already take a sho—”

Her eyes shifted to my still slightly damp clothes.

“…You haven’t, right?”

“Yeah, not yet.”

I’d been too busy cleaning up the room, so I hadn’t had time for a shower.

My shoes had been soaked, so I left them on the rack to dry. That’s why I was just wearing slippers.

“Shower—do you want to go first, Peter?”

“No, no, you should go ahead, Michelle.”

“…But you’re the host.”

I opened the shower room door.
It wasn’t all that big, but then again, neither was the one in the room next door—Michelle’s room. She should already know her way around.

…Michelle’s eyes fell on the soap beneath the shower.

“Ah, shampoo…”

“You can use mine.”

“No, I mean… I forgot to bring mine.”

Oh. Right.
Girls are particular about things like shampoo and soap.

That was a slip on my part.

“…But if it’s okay with you, Peter, I’ll borrow it. Is that fine?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.”

Michelle hung her towel on the wall and set her thin clothes down in the changing space. Then… she shot a quick glance my way.

Ah.

“S-sorry! I’ll step out right now!”

“…Heh.”

Michelle chuckled at me, but I hurried out of the shower room anyway.

I dropped into a chair and pressed a hand against my mouth.

My heart almost leapt out of my chest.
But… I think I’m okay.

After a moment, I heard the sound of water from the shower.

The sound of water falling. Like rain.

I closed my eyes—

“Wait, this makes me sound like some creep…”

Panicking, I stood up from the chair and opened my backpack sitting in the corner. I just needed a distraction.

I pulled out a few comic books and set them on the desk.

Then I noticed one that was unusually thick.

“…What’s this?”

I picked it up… the cover showed a beautiful woman in a swimsuit, posing seductively—

Without thinking, I slapped another comic on top of it.

I turned my head toward the shower entrance. The sound of water was still going.
Michelle was still in there.

“Phew…”

I exhaled with relief and looked back at the magazine cover.

That Ned… seriously, why would he—ugh.

Classic case of “help” no one asked for.

This is bad. I’ve got to hide it before Michelle gets out of the shower.

It wasn’t some kind of outright porn magazine. You could even find this type of pin-up magazine at a normal bookstore.

But still… if she saw it—

“…Pathetic.”

I could already picture Michelle glaring at me with those disillusioned eyes.
She might never speak to me again.

The bookshelf? No good. Too thick, the spine would stick out like a sore thumb.

I braced against the wall, climbed up, and placed it on top of the shelf. With the low ceiling, you couldn’t see it just by looking up from below.

I let out another sigh as I dropped back down to the floor.

“Damn it, Ned… I never asked for this…”

It’s not like I can say I’m completely uninterested in that kind of thing.
But still… come on. Time and place.

I hate “surprises” like that.

Slumped in my chair, exhausted, I noticed the shower sounds had stopped.

I quickly straightened the scattered comics on the desk, trying to look casual.

Soon, the sound of the door opening reached me.

“Peter, thanks for letting me use the shower.”

I heard Michelle’s voice. Reflexively, I turned—

There she was, drying her hair with a towel, wearing a short shirt.
Below, short shorts… with her captivating thighs extending beneath them.

Even though she should have already removed her makeup, her perfectly balanced features hadn’t lost a shred of their charm. My gaze was irresistibly drawn to her face.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed from the warmth… and her lips were softly glistening.

Then, Michelle looked at me.

Her long eyelashes fluttered with a quiet blink.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Ah, n-no… nothing.”

There’s no way I could tell her I was captivated by her.

“…?”

Tilting her head, she sat down on the bed.

On my bed—the one I usually sleep in—Michelle was sitting there.

It felt strangely surreal.

Michelle draped a towel around her neck.
The buttons at her chest were completely undone, exposing her smooth, pale skin—

I averted my eyes.

Right now… I think I finally understand the feeling of a moth plunging into fire, even knowing it’ll burn.

I quickly stood up and opened the fridge. Inside were a few bottles of drinks.

“Michelle, want something to drink?”

“Mm… thanks. What do you have?”

She stepped closer, leaning in to peek at the contents.

Her damp hair brushed against my shoulder.
Even though she’d used the same soap as me, her scent was distinctly different as it drifted past my nose.
Not unpleasant—but enough to unsettle me, impossible to ignore.

…I pinched my arm.
At this rate, my skin was going to look like it had been pecked raw by a chicken.

“…Milk.”

Michelle’s gaze landed on the bottle of milk inside.

“Alright, I’ll grab a glass.”

While I fetched one from the cupboard, Michelle pulled the bottle from the fridge. She twisted the cap open and poured.

Then, she raised the glass to her lips and drank.
Her throat bobbed with each quiet gulp.

The glass touched down on the table with a soft clink.

“Fuu…”

Michelle exhaled softly… leaving a faint white trace at the corner of her lips.

She seemed to notice my gaze, because she ran a finger across her mouth.
Her finger came away with a spot of milk. She looked at it… then looked at me.
Her cheeks were a little red.

“…What is it?”

Was it embarrassment?
Or maybe just the warmth from her bath?

I couldn’t help myself—the corner of my mouth lifted in a smile.

“N-no, it’s nothing?”

Even though I said that, it was obvious I was stifling laughter. Michelle’s expression turned slightly complicated.

Then, suddenly, I remembered something important.

“Ah, right. What about dinner? If you’d like, I can go buy something.”

She’d already showered, and it was raining outside. That’s why I suggested it, but—

“…But I’d feel bad for Peter if you did that…”

“Then, should we just order delivery?”

In the end, we decided on ordering through an app.
We picked out dishes from the same restaurant and placed the order.

I went a little overboard and ordered more than necessary.

“Alright, I’ll grab a shower while we wait.”

“Yeah, see you in a bit.”

She said that—and I paused, thinking.

Michelle had a smartphone, but I’d never seen her idly scrolling through it. I always pictured her reading instead.

So—

“There are some comics on the desk. Feel free to read them. I borrowed them from Ned.”

“Got it, thanks.”

Michelle walked to the desk, scanning the stack with curious eyes.

She liked comics too… so it seemed I’d chosen well.

Satisfied by the sight of her looking genuinely interested, I opened the shower room door.

She’d used it neatly—no stray droplets had splashed over onto the toilet side.

I took off my shirt and placed it in the basket… huh?

There were already clothes inside.

“…Oh, Michelle’s, I guess?”

Her black shirt and blue pants from earlier were there.

I took out another basket and put my shirt in instead.

But when I glanced back—something pale lavender caught my eye.

Wait… did Michelle wear something in this color today?

I stared without meaning to.

It was a piece of fabric, trimmed with lace, rounded in shape.

“…Uwah!?”

T-those were underwear!

The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them—

“Are you okay!? Pi—”

The door swung open.

“Peter…?”

Michelle peeked in.

There I was—half-naked, standing right next to a basket with her underwear in plain sight.

““Ah…””

Our voices overlapped.

Excuses flooded my mind, only to sink uselessly into panic. More than anything, I didn’t want her to hate me… or be disappointed.

I decided the only option was to explain the situation honestly—

“Michelle, this is—”

“S-sorry!”

The door slammed shut.

I wanted to explain.
But… it was awkward.

My head was a mess.

My face was burning up.
I had to cool it down.

My thoughts kept spinning in confusion.

I stripped off my pants and tossed them into the basket.

Unsteadily, I stepped into the shallow bathtub and turned the faucet.

The shower water came out—scalding hot.

---

Rain poured down outside.

The view through the window wasn’t anything special—just a concrete wall blocking the scenery, with raindrops trickling down its surface.

But layered over that sound was another one.

The sound of running water.

Peter was in the shower.

I shrank in on myself, sitting on the edge of the bed in the corner of the room.

I had seen it.

I had seen him.

Peter’s… n-naked body.

If I looked in the mirror right now, my face would probably be red.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a man’s body.
I’d stripped the clothes off people I’d killed before.
Besides, in my previous life, I’d been a man myself—or at least I should have been, though I barely remember that shape anymore.

There should be no reason for me to feel embarrassed.
I shouldn’t feel anything.

When I first met Peter and tended his wounds, I hadn’t felt anything.
Even when I saw him in swimwear during summer vacation, nothing like this had happened.

So why?
Why am I like this now…?

No, no, no.

The word deny filled my entire head, over and over.

But the truth was undeniable.

Because right now, I was curled up on the bed, hugging my knees—flustered, excited, just from seeing Peter’s naked body.

It was absurd.
And yet it was true.

If I closed my eyes, the image replayed behind my eyelids.

…He was so well-built.

His skin had a faint sheen of dampness, almost like rainwater.

His stomach muscles—lightly defined, but visible…

“U-ugh… this makes me sound like some kind of pervert…”

On top of that, I had barged in while Peter was changing. That really was perverted.

He had looked so startled, too.

I apologized, but… it was too embarrassing to face him afterward.

I wonder if he’s angry… Peter’s kind, so he’ll probably forgive me.
But still—maybe he felt uncomfortable.

“…Uuuh…”

A small groan escaped my lips.

On reflex, I buried my face into his blanket—only to recoil instantly.

“Th-that was close.”

My nose had been flooded with Pe… Pe-Peeter’s scent.

The scent of a young boy.

Hair wax, sweat, deodorant…

It was the same smell I always noticed when sitting next to him—only now, magnified dozens of times, and it hit me straight in the brain.
I felt a little dizzy.

And now that I was aware of it, I noticed my own scent too. I’d used the same soap in his bathroom, so I carried that same smell.

N-no good.

I had to stop thinking about it.

I slid off the bed and grabbed a comic from the desk.

The ones Ned had lent to Peter.

“Oh—this one… that’s rare.”

It was a dark-hero comic about a messenger from hell who slaughtered villains.
But its real theme wasn’t killing or violence—it was love.

It wasn’t from a huge publisher, but it was a series I liked.
It had even caused a small boom back in the day, with plenty of figures released.

I sat back on the bed and flipped through it, escaping into its pages.

…When Peter comes back, I’ll apologize properly.
For barging in while he was changing.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

…Ah, the delivery.

Right, Peter had ordered it on his phone.

The payment had already been handled electronically.
All that was left was to pick it up.

I glanced at the shower room.

Peter was still inside. He probably hadn’t heard the bell.

That meant I had to answer.

I quickly slipped on the room slippers and went to the door.

I unlatched the chain and opened it.

“Delivery here… huh?”

The delivery guy froze when he saw me.
And I froze too.

Because it was a familiar face.

“Flash…”

“Ah—ahh, Michelle…?”

It was Flash.

We’d run into each other plenty of times at school, but never in private.
Not that I wanted to.

“…You’re working part-time? Even though you’re loaded?”

He used to brag all the time about his family’s wealth.
Not as rich as Harry’s, but enough that he didn’t need a part-time job.

“Hmm? Ah, yeah. I figured I should at least cover some of my own college expenses.”

…A surprisingly admirable answer.
So different from the old him.

Ever since I saved him from Dr. Connors—the Lizard—he had changed.

He wasn’t the kind of person I hated anymore.
Still… his straightforward, unhidden affection, the way he pressed in so boldly—that was something I’d never been good with.
And I hadn’t forgotten that he used to bully Peter. He’d been awful back then.

“For now, here. Delivery order, right?”

Flash handed me two plastic bags.

Potato salad piled high, tomato soup, hot dogs.

Pretty heavy, but… well, for me it was nothing.

As I took them, Flash tilted his head.

“…You guys eat a ton, huh?”

“I’m not eating all this by myself.”

“…Huh?”

He tilted his head again—then noticed the sound of the shower.

…Ah, it had just stopped.

If Peter came out now, this would get really awkward.

“…Ohhh, so it’s a sleepover party, huh?”

“Whatever.”

I wasn’t in the mood to chat, so my response came out curt, almost cold.
Shouldn’t he be working right now? Just go already.

“Thanks for the delivery. Bye.”

“Ah, y-yeah, sure?”

“See you.”

“Come again, alright?”

Never again.

I went to close the door—just as Flash stepped back.

And at that exact moment, the shower room door swung open.

“Michelle, about earlier—that was a misunderstanding—”

Peter rushed out in a fluster—

“Huh? Wait—”

Flash’s startled voice overlapped—

SLAM!

The door shut.

“…Huh? Michelle, was that someone?”

“Mm, just the delivery…”

I hurried to lock the door and hooked the chain.

Peeking through the door scope, I saw Flash standing outside, shoulders slumped in shock.

Please, just go home already.

“It came faster than I expected… sorry for making you accept it.”

Peter carried the plastic bags of food to the desk.

I turned my face away. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes—it was too embarrassing.

Noticing my behavior, Peter spoke up.

“Uh, Michelle? About earlier—”

“I’m sorry.”

I apologized before he could say anything.

“Eh?”

He sounded genuinely surprised.

…Maybe the way I apologized wasn’t very convincing.

I added, fumbling for words.

“Um, I barged in while you were changing… without knocking. I’m sorry. I regret it.”

I bowed my head in apology.

Silence stretched between us.

…Was he really that mad?

Nervously, I lifted my gaze to him.
His face was caught between confusion and hesitation.

“…Um, Michelle?”

“…Yeah.”

“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“…Huh? Why?”

I honestly didn’t get it.
Why should he—the one whose privacy I’d intruded on—apologize?

“Well… you only came rushing in because I shouted, right?”

“…That’s true, but…”

“So really, don’t worry about it. Besides… seeing me naked isn’t anything interesting anyway.”

“That’s…”

Not interesting, no.
But… I had just been—no, I shouldn’t say that. Better to keep quiet.

“Actually, it’s me who… um, you know, I was the one who yelled.”

“…It was pretty loud.”

Yeah—it hadn’t been just a startled noise. It was the kind of scream you’d make if your life was in danger.

That’s why I’d panicked and burst into the shower room, forgetting to knock.

“That was because… um… the basket in the shower—”

“Basket?”

“Your clothes… your change of clothes was in there.”

“…Change of clothes?”

I tilted my head.

Change of clothes… basket… Ah. Right. I’d left my clothes in the basket without telling Peter.
And I hadn’t taken them back yet. I’d forgotten.

“Sorry, Peter. I’ll clean it up.”

“Ah—yeah, sure, that’s… fine.”

Peter’s reply was oddly awkward.

“…?”

There shouldn’t have been any real connection between my clothes and his loud shout.

I opened the shower room door and picked up the clothes from the basket.

A shirt and pants.

And—underwear.

The stylish but practical set Gwen had helped me pick out.

…Underwear.

Underwear?

“Ah…”

Right.

Underwear.

I looked at Peter.

He quickly averted his eyes, looking guilty.

“…D-did you see?”

“…Sorry.”

That apology… was basically confirmation.

My face felt like it was on fire.
Not from the Human Torch, not from the Ghost Rider—just from sheer heat.

I sandwiched the underwear between the shirt and pants, clutching them against me.

Peter stood there, slumped over, looking pitiful.

I forced myself to speak.

“…It was an accident, so… don’t worry about it. If anything, it was my fault for causing it.”

My voice shook slightly.

Peter looked up.
He seemed to understand what I was trying to say.

“But still, I was at fault too… so, I’m sorry. Please don’t dwell on it, Michelle.”

“…Yeah. Let’s just call it even. We’re even…”

It was unbearably, painfully awkward.

I set the clothes down on a shelf in the corner of the room.
I’d tucked the underwear between the shirt and pants so it stayed hidden.

Maybe trying to break the tension, Peter spoke up.

“T-t-t-totally! Anyway, let’s just drop this, okay!? Time to eat before the food gets cold, yeah?”

“…Y-yeah.”

I pulled out a chair—only to bump into the bookshelf behind me.

“Ah.”

And in that instant, something slipped and fell—

“Watch out!”

Peter caught it at the last second.
…Probably thanks to that Spider-Sense of his.

My heart thumped a little faster.

“Th-thank you.”

I managed to thank him.
As expected… Peter really was dependable.

“What did I just… oh.”

“Huh?”

Peter made a strange sound.

I followed his gaze to what he had caught.

It was a book.
A fairly thick one—if it had hit me wrong, I might’ve been bleeding.

But what really caught my eye was the cover.

A photograph of a woman in a very provocative pose… wearing a bikini.

Outside, the sound of pouring rain filled the silence between us.