Chapter 93: AKA Michelle Jane - part 5

She smiled at me, and my heart skipped a beat.

She shed tears, and I wanted to protect her.

She rejoiced, and I wished for her to laugh again.

Laughing, crying, rejoicing, grieving.

Countless emotions repeated, and in the end—

She was bleeding, crying… looking up at me.

…My eyes opened.

The familiar ceiling was above me.

This is… my room.

I had lain in bed since yesterday without even changing my clothes.

Looking out the window… it was morning.

I had to hurry and get ready for school. So Michelle wouldn’t have to wait…

No.

My breath grew a little rough.

No.

The scenery I saw yesterday was burned into my brain and wouldn’t leave.

"…No."

Slowly, I stood up and put a hand on the wall.

I walked to the sink and let the water run.

Scooping it up with my hands, I washed my face.

I looked in the mirror.

What a terrible face I was making.

Breathing out, deep and heavy, I crouched down.

Michelle… was Redcap.

She had deceived me and everyone all this time… and she had been killing people.

I loved her.

No… even now, I still love her.

That’s why I couldn’t believe it.

I told myself it was a lie… prayed it was a lie.

…And yet, yesterday, I entered Michelle’s room, and I saw it.

The same kind of scrapbook the Punisher had spoken of—the ones Redcap had been making.

The situation was telling me she was Redcap.

Like puzzle pieces coming together to form a picture, the truth revealed itself before my eyes.

Even though I didn’t want to see it.

Leaving the washroom, I pulled off my shirt.

The scar on my stomach… even after nearly a year, it remained faintly.

It was from when I first met Redcap.

…Michelle was the one who treated that wound.

I thought she was so kind—one of the reasons I fell for her.

But she was the one who inflicted it in the first place… then why treat it?

To get my attention?

To get close to me?

How could she make that worried face?

I don’t understand.

The doorbell rang.

…Right now, I want to be alone, but… I have no choice but to answer.

I put on a fresh shirt and opened the door—

"Peter, let’s go to school already."

Michelle was standing there.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst… I wanted to demand why she was here.

But I swallowed the words and stayed silent.

My mouth was dry.

"Michelle…?"

"Today’s prom, and you overslept?"

That’s right. Today was prom.

The final event of high school life.

She was wearing a simple black dress.

I’d seen it a few times before—the dress she wore when she dressed up.

She must have dressed up now to go to prom with me.

"But… why…"

"What’s wrong?"

She looked at me with utter incomprehension.

Her eyes, clear cobalt blue… the same as always.

Countless words rose in my mind, but the last one was doubt.

Maybe what I saw yesterday had been a hallucination.

Maybe Redcap just happened to resemble her.

But if I said that aloud, I felt she would vanish forever… so I shook my head.

"It’s nothing… I’ll get ready right away."

"…Mm, I’ll wait."

Closing the door, I returned to my room.

I let out a deep breath.

There were so many things I didn’t understand.

More things I didn’t understand than things I did.

Even so, for now… I decided to go along with this.

I threw off my clothes and put on the casual suit I had prepared.

I spread styling gel across my hands in front of the mirror and forced my hair into place.

I rubbed my brow… still tense and stiff.

My hand touched the doorknob.

"…………"

I hesitated a moment.

…Then I opened the door.

Michelle was waiting there.

Good. That part had been real.

Not an illusion I dreamed up.

Looking at me, Michelle gave a faint smile.

"You didn’t have to hurry so much."

A pain shot through my chest.

"No, I kept you waiting because of me… I felt bad."

I forced myself to smile too, and Michelle nodded.

Then… she touched my hand.

With a fragile grip, as if it might dissolve at any moment… she held my hand.

"Let’s go, Peter."

I squeezed her hand back.

If I let go, I felt like I’d never see her again.

I no longer knew what was truth and what was lies.

But the warmth I felt from her hand—I wanted to believe that was real.

---

Peter and Michelle, the two of us, sat together eating.

Today’s plan… I had gone over it again and again.

All of it, just so she would smile in front of me.

I’d even consulted Gwen, and Ned too…

…Then I remembered Ned in his hospital gown.

He had supported Michelle and me going to prom.

And yet, Michelle… had done that to Ned.

Michelle faintly smiled and looked at my face.

"Peter? Aren’t you going to eat?"

"Ah, no… I’ll eat. Thanks."

I should have been able to enjoy this from the bottom of my heart.

But it felt like there was a thorn stuck deep in the center of my chest… one that I couldn’t pull out.

Michelle scooped up some chicken rice with her spoon.

"…Hey, Michelle?"

When I called out, she turned her face toward me.

Those pure blue eyes, looking as if they didn’t know anything… squeezed painfully at my heart.

"What is it?"

When I stayed silent a little too long, Michelle tilted her head.

…If this was her pretending not to know, then she was truly an actress.

"Is there… something you’re hiding from me?"

…I’d asked it.

Anxiety welled up over how she would react.

Would she lose her composure, or…

"There is."

But contrary to my fears, she nodded as if it were nothing.

"That is—"

"I think everyone has secrets… even you, Peter. Don’t you?"

Hearing that… I quietly nodded.

I had secrets too, even from my friends.

That I’m Spider-Man—that was…

Wait.

Michelle… doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man?

Is that why she’s here?

Otherwise, after everything yesterday… she wouldn’t come see me.

…No one would give me the answer.

No use thinking about it.

"Sorry, that was a weird question."

I didn’t have the courage.

I was afraid that if I pressed her, this time together would end.

My head filled with self-loathing.

Seeing me like that, Michelle wiped her mouth… and lowered her brows.

"Really… a weird question."

She said that, setting her spoon on the edge of the plate.

Her eyes softened faintly, and she smiled.

Then, she opened her mouth.

"…Something troubling you?"

"Ah, yeah… just something bothering me a little."

What was bothering me was you—but I couldn’t say it out loud.

"…Peter, if something is weighing on you—"

Michelle looked straight into my eyes.

"Just for today… just for right now, I want you to forget it."

Her eyes trembled.

They were hiding a faint unease.

…That’s right, Michelle couldn’t possibly harbor malice like that… to hurt someone… to hurt me. That just couldn’t be true.

It had never been that way before.

And it wouldn’t be from now on, either.

Holding back the tears that wanted to spill, I nodded.

"Yeah, sorry… this is supposed to be a fun time."

"…Mm. Really… it’s precious time."

I put my spoon into the dish in front of me.

The soup tasted… a little too salty.

---

The two of us got into a taxi and headed straight to the school.

…If it were someone like Flash, he could probably rent a limousine.
But for me, this was the best I could do.
Even the restaurant…

When I told Aunt May about prom, she gave me some pocket money.
When she learned there was a girl I was close with, she was delighted.

…It feels pathetic, honestly.

But Michelle didn’t seem to mind one bit.
From the taxi window, she gazed out at the city scenery.

…It was the same view as always, yet she looked at it like it was precious.

Delmar’s sandwich shop, the restaurant we went to together, the newsstand where I often buy papers, the science museum we visited on a date, the Daily Bugle building.

One by one, the sights passed us by… drifting behind.

Eventually, the taxi came to a stop.
Since I’d already paid the fare, I got out, circled around, and reached for Michelle’s door.

But the door opened at the same time—
me from the outside, Michelle from the inside.

I was pushed back slightly—

"…Heh."

Michelle let out a small laugh.

"You don’t have to laugh at that…"

Even as I protested, the corners of her mouth stayed lifted.
…I’d thought when I first met her that she was a woman poor in expressions.

But now… that wasn’t true.
She showed me so many different faces.
Was it because she trusted me that much?

I held out my hand, and Michelle placed hers on it.

"Will you escort me?"

"Yeah… of course."

Her soft fingers intertwined with mine.
Fragile fingers, so delicate they seemed like they’d break if I gripped too hard.

Could hands like these really… take someone’s life?
Maybe what I saw yesterday was a mistake—
A hallucination I had—

"Peter?"

The reality I’d been trying to escape dragged me back.

"Sorry, it’s just… you’re beautiful."

"…What is?"

"Your fingers…"

The words left my mouth, and I regretted it.
That sounded like something a creep would say.

But Michelle’s expression wasn’t one of contempt—only curiosity.

"You see them every day…"

Even as she said that, she didn’t let go of my hand, and stepped out of the taxi.
After I thanked the driver, he drove away.

Michelle smiled as she watched.
I tilted my head.

"Um… was something funny?"

"No, nothing."

Still confused, I pulled her along.

At the reception desk, I checked our names off the list.
…The receptionist was a student council officer from another grade.

Since she didn’t know Michelle, she looked surprised when she saw her… then frowned slightly at me beside her.

She was probably thinking something like, “Why is it a guy like him?”

Leaving the desk, Michelle and I walked down the hallway.
It was the same school building as always, but tonight it was lavishly decorated.

When I looked at Michelle… she was slightly pouting.

Had I done something wrong?

"Um, Michelle? Is something the matter?"

I couldn’t help but ask.

Hearing my words, Michelle hurriedly raised her hand to hide her mouth.

"That person just now… their attitude was a little rude."

"…Really?"

It wasn’t the first time I’d been looked at like that.
I’d already resigned myself to it.

"…Yeah."

"But, well… since it’s me, it can’t be helped, I mean—"

"That’s not true."

As I started to sound like I was making excuses, Michelle shook her head.

She spoke.

"If Peter is looked down on, it makes me sad."

"…I see."

"Yeah."

Her fingers, entwined with mine, squeezed ever so slightly.
My face grew warm.

She acknowledged me.
She praised me from the bottom of her heart.

…But, what if this was all just an act?
What if she was only trying to win my favor—

"You're thinking too much again."

She said it so casually.

"Ah, um—"

"Tonight, don’t think about anything… you don’t have to think about anything."

"…Okay."

"Just look at me."

It was the first time she’d ever voiced such a selfish request.
There was a trace of possessiveness in her words… and yet, it wasn’t unpleasant.
To me, it felt comforting—something that made me happy.

"Yeah, Michelle… I got it."

"…Thank you."

Her smile then was somehow fragile.
Hand in hand, we walked down the hallway.

Past the lockers we always used.
Past the classrooms we often had lessons in.

---

The gymnasium floor was covered with carpet, with small tables lined up near the front.
On them were light snacks… Michelle reached for a cookie dotted with chocolate chips.

Toward the back, the seniors were gathered, dancing freely.
I couldn’t really follow, but some trendy pop song was playing.

"…Michelle, do you want to dance too?"

Honestly, I didn’t want to go out there.
Just the thought of it made me embarrassed.

"…I’m fine. Just watching is fun enough."

The two of us stood by the wall in the corner.
We placed some snacks on paper plates and quietly watched the students dancing.

"…Want some?"

Michelle held out a cookie toward me.
I wasn’t hungry, but… I did feel like putting something in my mouth.

"Ah, then I’ll have one."

I reached out, but instead of handing it over, Michelle brought the cookie closer.
And pressed it right against my lips.

"Uh, Michelle?"

"You can’t eat it unless you open your mouth."

Resigned, I parted my lips—and she popped the cookie in.

…Her fingers brushed against my lips.

"Tasty?"

Even if she asked, I couldn’t tell.
My heart was beating out of control.

But I kept up a calm façade and nodded.

"Yeah, it’s good."

"I’m glad."

Michelle nodded too, then reached for another cookie herself.
She popped it into her mouth… then licked the sugar from her fingers.

I exhaled deeply, trying to steady myself.

Noticing, Michelle looked a little embarrassed.

"…That was kind of greedy, wasn’t it."

She said that while wiping her hand with a wet tissue.

Of course, I couldn’t say “Not at all.”
I just gave a wry smile and quickly changed the subject.

"You really like sweets, don’t you, Michelle."

"Yeah… I might be addicted."

She was always eating cakes and pastries.
…And yet, her waist was incredibly slim.

I recalled Gwen grumbling about it.
Apparently, it was a taboo subject among women.

So I shut my mouth.

I felt awkward for not being able to keep the conversation going.
But Michelle didn’t mind. From time to time, she spoke to me herself.

…And so, the two of us shared a gentle moment.
Until someone walked up to us.

It was Flash.

He walked toward me without a word—

"Uh, s-so… did you need something?"

Instinctively, I stepped forward, as if to shield Michelle.
…Well, I doubted Flash would actually do anything to hurt her.

For a moment, he just glared at me… and then, suddenly, tears welled up in his eyes.

"“…Huh?”"

Michelle and I exchanged confused looks.

Then my hand was grabbed.
A rough, calloused hand.

Ugh.

"…You’d better make her happy…"

Flash’s voice trembled, thick with emotion.

"I-I don’t need to be told that."

Of course, I knew he was talking about Michelle.
So I nodded.

Seeing that, Flash gave a firm nod back, then turned and walked off.
Waiting for him was a girl… Liz, a classmate of ours.
The two of them leaned close together and disappeared into the lively crowd.

"Peter, he didn’t do anything weird to you, right?"

Michelle asked me, concern in her voice.

"Haha… well, it was weird, but… Flash isn’t a bad guy."

She frowned at that.

"…You can really forgive him?"

I knew.
She could never forgive him—for bullying me in the past.

Even if Flash was trying to act like a decent person now, she still disliked him.

"I can forgive him."

"…Why?"

Her expression said she couldn’t understand.
I nodded.

"Because for me… no matter what happened before… what matters most is the present. Flash has changed, and that means I don’t have a reason to hate him anymore."

At that, Michelle’s eyes wavered.
She glanced aside.

"I see… that’s amazing."

"Amazing?"

"…Being able to forgive people means you’re really kind. Most people can’t do that."

She said it like a compliment. I scratched my cheek awkwardly and leaned back against the wall.
Michelle leaned back beside me, and together we watched the students dancing.

I didn’t think it was amazing… but I didn’t want to deny her way of seeing it.

Outside the noisy crowd, the two of us quietly shared a peaceful moment.
The sun sank, and night crept in.

---

And so, prom came to an end.

We were ushered out of the gym, and the students made their way toward the school gates.

Some called for cars to pick them up… others escorted girls home.
Those with licenses drove their dates themselves.

"Ah…"

I noticed my taxi reservation on my phone was way overdue.
The time had passed, and the booking had been canceled.

So the taxi wasn’t coming.
All because I messed up.

"…Um, Michelle?"

I lowered my head, looking at her apologetically.
I had screwed up, right at the end.
…Pathetic.

Michelle tilted her head, then seemed to understand, and gave a small nod.

"…Peter, let’s walk home together?"

"I’m sorry, Michelle."

"Hehe, it’s fine… I actually wanted to feel the cool night air anyway."

She squeezed my hand and pulled me along, out the school gate.

Nighttime New York looked different from the cityscape we always saw.
Neon lights glowed, but the crowds were thinning out.

We walked down the road we had taken countless times.
The same road we walked together every morning.

When I looked up, the moon shone bright.
Even in a New York sky clouded by exhaust, the moon was still beautiful.

Leaving the main street behind, the presence of people faded away.

"…Peter."

Still holding my hand, Michelle turned to me.
Her face was a little flushed, almost shy.

"Thank you for today. I had fun."

"…I had fun too."

The moonlight shone on her face.

Her eyes locked on mine, not wavering.
…Even though it made me feel flustered, I refused to look away.

"…I’ve only ever been on the receiving end of your kindness, Peter."

"That’s not true… Michelle, you too—"

When I said that, Michelle closed her eyes.
She exhaled softly… then opened them again.

"Peter, I want to give something back."

"Give something back?"

Wondering what she meant, my lips curved into a faint smile—

"Anything you want, Peter. I’ll do it for you."

That’s what she said.

A breath escaped me before I realized it.
I couldn’t make sense of her words, and I fell silent.

Ignoring my reaction, Michelle continued.

"Anything at all… If you wish it, Peter… you can do whatever you want with me."

My heart jolted, and I couldn’t look straight at her anymore.
Anything?
Anything… that’s—

"N-no, that’s not okay. Michelle… if you say something like that! I’m still a man, and—"

"It’s fine. If it’s you, Peter, it’s fine."

Her slender, pale fingers intertwined with mine.
The look in her eyes grew heated.

I could feel her breath.

"Anything, I’ll do for you."

Countless things I wanted to do to her flashed through my mind… but no.
That’s not it. I, I—

"Let me—"

"Mm."

"Let me help you."

I squeezed her hand back, firmly.

"Peter?"

"I might not be reliable… but I swear I’ll help you."

"…Peter."

"Everything surrounding you—I’ll… I’ll get rid of it all…!"

"…………"

"Michelle, I… I want to help you…!"

Michelle is Redcap.
She’s lied to us. She’s killed people.

But… Michelle Jane isn’t a lie.
She’s here.

The warmth of her hand in mine is real.

I don’t know why she’s doing those things.
But I do know—she isn’t doing it because she wants to.

If it’s chains that bind her, if those chains are what torment her…

Then I…

I…!

"Please… let me help you… I’m begging you…"

"…………"

Michelle turned her face away.
I couldn’t tell what kind of expression she wore.

The moonlight, the streetlamps—none of them revealed her face.

After a while, she finally spoke.

"Why… why would you go that far for me?"

Her voice carried unease, confusion.

"…Because I love you."

"Even now, you still love me?"

The hand I held trembled.

"No matter what happens… I love you. You’re important to me. That will never change. Never."

"…I see."

She lifted her face.

…Her brows were furrowed.
She looked almost angry.
But she was crying.
Her lips were curved in a faint smile.

It was jumbled, contradictory.
A face pieced together like it had been cut apart and forced back together.

"…Michelle—"

"I’m glad you feel that way. But—"

Michelle shook her head.
Tears slid down her cheeks.

"I can’t return those feelings."

It felt like the ground beneath me crumbled away, a waking hallucination.

"…Ah, a-ah…"

My chest tightened.
What should I do?
How can I save her?

What am I supposed to do?

"Peter… thank you, for today."

"Michelle, I—"

"I’ll never forget the memory of today."

She let go of my hand—

—and embraced me from the front.

"…Ah."

"Thank you, Peter."

Soft warmth.
A sweet fragrance.

Her beautiful face drew closer to mine.
Her cobalt-blue eyes reflected me.

A gentle sensation pressed against my lips.
For a short while, they remained against mine.
As she pulled away, her breath grazed me.

My chest clenched with tension and surprise—I couldn’t breathe… and then—

"Ngh…!"

Something pierced into my back.
Pain shot through me.

"A… eh…?"

My mind clouded.
What had pierced my back was a slender, needle-like piece of metal.

I collapsed onto my rear.
Through my blurring vision, I looked up at Michelle.

There was something in her hand.
Probably… surely, some kind of syringe.

Poison…?
My vision swam.
It didn’t suffocate me, but unless I forced myself to stay alert, I would lose consciousness.

And while looking down at me, she spoke.

"Goodbye, Peter."

Words of parting.

It was the first time I’d ever heard them.

Because usually, she’d say “See you,” or something like that… always with the promise that we’d meet again tomorrow.
So why—why now?

Is she… is she really planning to kill me?

I thought she was precious to me.

But to her… was I never anything like that at all?

As my consciousness faded, I looked at Michelle’s face.

She was crying.
Her expression was pained, sorrowful.

…With what little strength I had left, I drew in a breath.
And forced my lips to move.

"D-don’t… cry…"

When Michelle cried, I felt sad too.
That’s why I wanted to save her.
Why I wanted to shield her from every misfortune that plagued her.

I thought… that was the power I’d been given.

"Ah… u…"

Michelle said something.
But I couldn’t make it out.

My strength gave way, and I fell to the ground… as darkness swallowed me.

---

"Michelle—!"

I kicked the blanket off of me.

…The ceiling.
The same ceiling I always see.

I looked around.

It was my room.

I glanced out the window.
The wall outside blocked the view, but I could tell the sun was up.

I got to my feet, breathing hard.
On my desk sat a digital clock.

The date… had already rolled over to the day after prom.
Saturday. No school today.

I looked down at myself.
…I was still in my casual suit.

So it wasn’t a dream.
It had really happened.

I tore off the suit and changed into lighter clothes.
Snatched up my room key and rushed outside.

I knocked on the door to the room next to mine.

"…Not here."

Of course not.
She hadn’t come back since the night before last.

My racing mind began to settle.

Why? Why am I still alive?
What was the poison Michelle stabbed me with?
…My body felt fine.

A sedative, maybe.

I pulled out my phone to check the time.

It was still morning.
I must’ve been knocked out for nearly ten hours.

I headed downstairs and out of the apartment.
My legs didn’t stop moving.
I quickened my pace, breathing unevenly.

People around me gave me strange looks.
I didn’t care.

I scanned my surroundings as I walked.

Down the same streets I always took.

Searching, searching, searching… she wasn’t there.
Nowhere.

On the verge of tears, I found myself in front of Delmar’s Sandwich Shop.

This was where I first met her.

She had shown an interest in my name… Ah, maybe even back then, she already knew about me.
Knew, and tried to get close?

No… no.
Even if it started that way, she cared for me.
With Gwen, with Ned, with Harry… she was a friend, without any ulterior motives.

…That’s right.
When Gwen was kidnapped by the Goblin, the one who saved her was Redcap.
When Harry fell from that ruined building, the one who caught him was Redcap.

For some reason, she was forced into doing those things… and yet, she still saved them.

Her kindness was real.
Her friendship, her affection, her love… all of it, all of it was real.
Why did I ever doubt her?
I was an idiot.

I steadied my rough breathing and looked at the shop’s door.

A paper notice… Emergency closure?
I shifted my gaze. Between the sandwich shop building and the one next to it, a crowd had gathered.

I staggered toward it.
Why were people crowding around a dark alleyway?

"Did… something happen?"

I asked a man standing nearby.

"Hm? I heard there was some kind of incident. Someone was killed, they say."

"Ah…"

I shoved past the onlookers, forcing my way through.
My Spider-Sense crackled, burning at my skull.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

"Hey, you there! Kid!"

I pushed past the police, shaking them off, and went deeper.
Voices shouted after me—officers scolding me.

But the moment I saw it—

—everything else stopped mattering.

Her face, her arms, her legs, her torso—scattered in pieces.
Like the fragments of a shattered puzzle… never to be put back together again.

Michelle’s face was staring at me.
Her glassy eyes, staring at me, staring, staring—

"Urgh—ugh, hhhkk—"

I vomited.
It spilled out onto the ground.

My heart, my love for her, our friendship—everything, everything poured out.

A cop grabbed my arm and dragged me back.

But I had already seen it.
The sight I didn’t want to believe.

Michelle—torn apart, her body scattered across the ground.