Chapter 95: Rest in Peace - part 2

I clenched the watch-shaped suit on my wrist, lost in thought.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been searching for Redcap.
That much was obvious from the way Winter Soldier—Bucky—had acted when we fought Carnage.

…Alright, I’ll contact Mr. Stark.

I opened my phone and pressed on Stark’s number.

After several rings, the call connected.

"Stark—"

"Good evening, Peter. This is J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Eh?"

But the one who answered wasn’t Stark—it was the butler AI, J.A.R.V.I.S.

"Where’s Mr. Stark!?"

"At present, he is attending an important meeting."

"Is there any way you could interrupt—"

"My apologies, but that will not be possible."

Of course. Mr. Stark is a far greater superhero than me. He must be fighting against some global-scale crisis right now.

…But still.

…

That doesn’t mean I can be selfish.

"…Alright, J.A.R.V.I.S. Could I leave a message for him?"

"Of course, Peter."

So I told him.
About her—about Michelle.
About Redcap.

About how badly I wanted to save her.

"That’s why… I need Mr. Stark’s help."

"Understood. I will relay this to Mr. Tony."

At J.A.R.V.I.S.’s reply, I nodded.

"Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.… Well, I’ve got something I need to do."

"Very well. I wish you the best of luck."

"Yeah… thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S."

I ended the call and let out a deep breath.

I need to find Michelle. But on my own, I don’t have enough hands.
…Is there anyone I can rely on?

I looked out the window.
The rain had already stopped.
The crimson sky cast its glow across New York.

…If it’s about finding someone, then I need a detective. Jessica.

I don’t have her contact, but I know where her office is.

Of course, I can’t just show up there in the suit. I’ll have to go on foot.

…I put my hand on the door and stepped out—

"Peter?"

Standing there was Gwen.
She had changed out of her mourning clothes into something easier to move in.

She must have gone home once, then come here. But why she’s here, I have no idea.

"…Gwen? Why are you here?"

I closed the door behind me with one hand as we faced each other in the hallway.

"Why do you think? Of course I’m worried about you."

"Worried… about me?"

Gwen looked into my face, suspicious.

"…Did something happen? You seem… well, not cheerful exactly. More like, you can’t afford to be down right now?"

As always, she read my expression perfectly.

"N-no… it’s nothing."

I tried to walk past her… but she shifted to block my path, stepping right into the space between my legs.

"That’s a lie. Something definitely happened."

"Sorry, Gwen, but I’ve got something I have to—"

"As Peter? Or—"

Her eyes locked straight onto mine.

"—as Spider-Man?"

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

I thought about why she knew, how I could possibly cover it up… all of that raced through my mind in an instant.

But in the end… I nodded.

"Both. As Peter… and as Spider-Man."

I’ve had enough of lying.
And even if Gwen knows… I believe she’s strong enough to weather the danger.

"…I see."

Gwen let out a sigh and pulled her foot back.
I tried to slip past her—

—and got slapped across the face.

"Ow!?"

"You really are such an idiot. Come on, over here."

Gwen grabbed me by the ear and dragged me all the way to the emergency stairwell.

"O-ow! That hurts, Gwen!"

She finally let go.
Rubbing my ear, I realized it felt a little warm.

…This was the back exit. With the building wall right behind us, there was no need to worry about eavesdroppers.
She must have something she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

"Serves you right. More importantly—why are you in such a rush? …Wait. Don’t tell me you’ve already found Michelle’s killer?"

I… couldn’t answer.

Because Gwen was Michelle’s best friend.
Telling her what Michelle had done… that wasn’t mine to decide.

"Just say it. You don’t have time to hesitate, do you?"

"But—"

"If you won’t, then I’m not letting you go anywhere."

…Wasting time is the last thing I can afford.
Resigned, I told her. I told her about Michelle.

Too scared of her reaction, I averted my gaze.
What if Gwen ended up hating Michelle…?

When I finished speaking, Gwen let out a deep breath.

Then, she suddenly slapped her own cheek.
It left a faint red mark.

"G-Gwen?"

"A punishment. For myself—for not realizing she was suffering."

"…I see."

I had believed Gwen would forgive Michelle.
Still, somewhere deep down, I had doubted her, worried about what if she couldn’t.

That doubt made me feel a little guilty… but also strangely relieved, even happy.

Without noticing what was going through my mind, Gwen spoke again.

"So, what are you planning to do now?"

"I was going to ask a detective I know for help…"

"Then I’m coming with you."

I figured she’d say that.
I gave up resisting and nodded.
I didn’t want to drag her into danger… but this was Gwen.

She placed her hand on the stairwell railing and looked back at me.

The two of us dashed down the emergency stairs, heading for Hell’s Kitchen.

Evening had come, and with the rain just cleared, the streets weren’t crowded.
Stepping into puddles sent water splashing around our feet.

"…By the way, Gwen. How did you… um, know?"

We were outside—anyone could be watching.
So I asked vaguely.

How did she know I was Spider-Man?
Had Ned told her?

That’s what I thought, but Gwen opened her mouth.

"A woman’s intuition."

"H-huh…"

I couldn’t help but let out a sound.

Intuition… so she hadn’t even been sure.
Which meant she’d tricked me into admitting it back then.

"Honestly, you’re terrible at keeping secrets. You and Ned both."

"Haha… yeah…"

Still, even if she knew my secret, I realized—I didn’t really mind.
If anything, it felt like a weight had been lifted from me.

As I let out a wry laugh, Gwen exhaled deeply.

"Peter. We’re going to save her. No matter what."

"…Of course."

I remembered that letter Michelle left behind.

I’m not the only one who wants to save her.
There are so many people who do.

So Michelle—please, don’t put yourself down anymore.
Because you still have a place to come back to.

We’ll make sure of it.

---

Hell’s Kitchen, Alias Investigations.

We had arrived in front of the office tucked inside a shabby multi-tenant building.

But—

"…It’s closed."

The sign on the door clearly read CLOSED.

I shifted my eyes and noticed the office signboard had a phone number written on it.
It must have been there the last time I came too, but back then I’d been too frantic to notice.

Gwen peered curiously through the glass door.
I was about to call the number on the sign with my phone—

"Hey, kid. What’s going on?"

I turned around—and there stood a massive bald man.

It was Jessica’s husband—

"Mr. Luke!"

Luke Cage.
He was nearly two meters tall, and just looking up at him made my neck ache a little.

"You need something with Jessica?"

"Uh, yes, sir."

I nodded quickly, and Gwen poked her head out from behind me.
Luke stroked his chin when he saw her.

"Hm? So that’s your girlfriend, kid?"

"No, I’m not!"

Gwen shot him the fiercest scowl.
Luke chuckled wryly at her reaction.

"Alright, alright… my bad. So then, kid—who’s she?"

"Um… this is my friend, Gwen."

"Oh? A friend, huh. Which kind?"

Luke lowered his voice as he asked me.
He meant—was she a friend of Peter, or of Spider-Man?

"Both."

When I answered, Gwen cut in from the side.

"Peter, who is this guy?"

The moment she said my name, Luke’s gaze flicked sharply to my face.
Right—Luke, Jessica… none of the Defenders actually knew my real name.

I turned back to Gwen.

"This is Mr. Luke Cage… how should I put it… a superhero?"

"A hired hero. Freelance these days."

"Huh. I see… nice to meet you."

Gwen extended her hand, and Luke shook it.
…When Luke shook my hand once, he nearly crushed it, but thankfully he didn’t do that to her.

After letting go, Luke looked back at me.

"As for Jessica… she’s in the hospital right now."

"The hospital…?"

"Big injury a few days back, remember? You were there, kid."

"Ah."

It came back to me.
The day I learned the truth about Redcap… Jessica had been hurt by her.

…Would Jessica really be willing to help Michelle?
And Luke—his wife had been injured. Surely he must resent her?

"Jessica told me, ‘If you see him, thank him for me.’ So I’ll say it too—thanks, kid."

"Uh… you’re welcome?"

I didn’t think I’d done anything worth gratitude… but I decided to accept it at face value.
Luke smiled faintly at my awkwardness.

"Anyway, let’s head inside. I’ve got business too."

Luke pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the office door.
Gwen stepped in first at his urging, then looked back at me, who had hesitated on the threshold.

"Peter, save the worrying for later, okay?"

"…Yeah."

We entered the office together and sat down on the sofa in the reception area.
Luke went to the desk and pulled some papers out from a drawer.

"Even from the hospital she’s a workaholic… told me to bring over some client files. Don’t ask me why."

"R-right…"

I nodded.

Gwen jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.

…She probably meant “Spit it out already.”

"Um, Mr. Luke?"

"Hm? What is it? If it’s a message for Jessica, I’ll see her at the hospital and—"

"There’s something I need to talk to you about."

From the way I said it, Luke must’ve sensed this wasn’t ordinary business. He set the files down on the desk and sat across from me.

"Something got you in a bind?"

"…There’s someone I absolutely have to save."

I said it, but then hesitated—wondering how I should put it.
Redcap… telling her story to someone who might very well resent her for hurting Jessica… how could I—

"It’s fine."

"…I haven’t even explained yet."

"You’re asking me for help, aren’t you? Then I’m in."

Luke slapped his hand against his knee and stood up.

The sight reminded me of the first time I’d met Jessica.
Maybe it was because they were married—or maybe they were married because they were the same at heart.

As I puzzled over that, he grinned at me.

"Heroes help each other. If you’d said you wanted to take someone down, maybe I’d think twice. But if it’s about saving someone? No way I’m saying no."

"Mr. Luke…"

"You’re the same, aren’t you? Right, Spider-Man?"

I felt my eyes sting as I pushed myself to my feet.

…He was right.
I’d never turn my back on someone who just wanted to save another.

That’s what I believe.
That’s what Luke believes.

And Jessica, too. The other Defenders as well.

I nodded firmly and met his eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Luke."

"You want me to call the others in?"

I thought about it for a moment.
When it came to finding Michelle, there couldn’t be too many hands helping.

"Yes, please."

"Good. I’ll make the calls—don’t worry, even without the details, they’ll show."

Luke picked up the office landline and began dialing.

Relief washed over me, and I let out a long breath.
Gwen was watching me from the side.

"…They’re good people."

I couldn’t help but agree.

"Yeah. Honestly, more than I deserve—"

"Idiot. You’re a good person too."

I turned to her in surprise.
It wasn’t often she praised me so directly.

But she didn’t meet my eyes, looking away instead.
Maybe she was embarrassed.

Luke hung up the phone and glanced back at us.

"Alright. Everyone’ll meet here. You want something to eat while we wait, kid?"

"Uh—"

I didn’t really feel hungry.
Too much weighed on my mind.

But now that the worst of the tension had lifted, my stomach gave a small, tight twist.

"…Peter, when was the last time you ate?"

Gwen leaned in, peering at my face.

"Eh? Uh… when was the last time I ate?"

At the very least, not today.
I’d had some water, but… I just hadn’t felt hungry.

Luke gave a half-exasperated laugh at my answer.

"Kid, if your stomach’s empty, you won’t have any strength. Eat. …You’ll regret it if the moment comes and you can’t give it your all."

Like he knew the place inside-out, Luke started pulling things from the office fridge—ham, bread, the basics.

…Might as well accept the kindness.

I reached for a slice of bread.

---

The sky had begun to darken slightly… and then Daredevil, Matt Murdock, and Iron Fist, Danny Rand, appeared.

Both of them were carrying small suitcases.

Once everyone had gathered, I spoke about Red Cap… about Michelle. Gwen, though it was her second time hearing it, was clutching her upper arm tightly, looking pained.

"...So that’s how it was."

When I finished speaking, Matt gave a heavy nod. He pressed a hand to his forehead, just above his sunglasses.

"...I see. Now all the information we’ve gathered so far… makes sense. That’s what it meant… why didn’t I notice?"

Matt let out a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. …He seemed to be taking it pretty hard.

Danny too looked troubled, making a gesture that showed his unease. Luke, on the other hand, had a slightly angry expression.

"...I want everyone’s help in saving her. Any method is fine, whatever it takes…"

As I said that, I looked to Matt. He nodded and pushed himself off the wall.

"Understood… I was the one who’s known her the longest, after all. I’ll start by checking the places in Hell’s Kitchen that come to mind."

"...Thank you."

When I expressed my gratitude, Matt shook his head.

"No, I have an obligation to help as well."

He set his suitcase down on the floor, revealing inside it a suit designed like a red devil. From it, he picked up the mask.

"Leave it to me, Spider-Man. ‘Red… no, that’s wrong. ‘Michelle Jane’ will be saved, without fail."

With the suit and mask in hand, Matt left the room. …He was probably going to change.

Danny glanced at me.

"I know Misty—ah, um… I’ve got a contact in the police. I’ll see what I can find out through them. If I learn anything, I’ll let you know."

Waving and smiling, he followed after Matt.

That left just Gwen, Luke, and me. Luke was frowning.

"...Luke-san."

"Unforgivable."

His voice came out deep and low. …As expected, Luke was—

"Kid, I’ll see what I can dig up from some informants I know."

"...You’re going to help us?"

I turned to face Luke. He looked a little surprised, then nodded as if satisfied.

"Hahaha, what’s with that, kid? The reason I’m angry is because she’s been dragged into this mess."

Luke slapped me on the back. It hurt quite a bit.

"Jessica-san was hurt, and yet…"

"Even so. If she were here, she’d be glad to help out too… well, she’s down for the count with injuries, so she’s sitting this one out."

Luke chuckled as he moved away from my side. Then he glanced in the direction Matt and Danny had gone.

"Unlike those guys, I don’t have some special suit. I’ll head out first."

After we exchanged contact info, Luke left the room as well.

And then, Matt and Danny came back in.

Daredevil, clad in a red-and-black suit. Iron Fist, wearing a deep green costume with a yellow mask.

Gwen narrowed her eyes and looked at me.

"Is there some rule that heroes can’t operate unless they’re in costume?"

"No… it’s just that vigilantes like us, the ones not officially recognized by the government, can’t show our faces."

"Still, aren’t they kind of flashy?"

At that, Matt tapped the side of his mask with his finger.

"A hero’s name value is what makes criminals fear them. A little notoriety helps in making wrongdoers think twice."

"...Huh, so that’s how it works?"

Gwen folded her arms and tilted her head.

"If fear of heroes brings down crime rates, that’s worth it… Now then, I’ll be on my way. How about you two?"

Daredevil looked at me.

"I’ll… use my suit’s drones to scan the city."

As I said that, I glanced at Gwen.

"Ah—me, huh? Well… my time for fighting is limited, so I’ll stay behind and coordinate with ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’ instead."

"...Huh? ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’?"

Iron Fist—Danny—tilted his head. …Ah, that’s right. They didn’t know about Gwen yet.

"Um, Danny. She’s, well—"

"She’s a candidate agent for ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’."

At that, Daredevil and Iron Fist exchanged glances. Daredevil’s mouth twisted slightly.

"...I see. Got it. In that case, I’ll count on you."

Probably, they were thinking the same thing I did when I first found out. That an organization like ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’, making a teenage girl into an agent, had to be rotten.

…Well, even now I still have my own issues with Nick Fury.

"Gwen, thanks. I’m counting on you. Oh, and contact Harry too!"

"Of course."

I handed Gwen the keys to the office that Luke had left behind, then stepped up to the office window.

As I activated the suit, I leapt out the window… kicking my way up the wall until I reached the rooftop.

Night had already fallen on New York.

From there, I kicked off the edge of the building and soared out into open space. A web shot out, carrying me upward until I landed on the arm of a stationary crane.

Hooking webs to the triangular steel beams on either side, I flung myself backward. The recoil launched me high into the air.

I fired another line onto a skyscraper, swinging like a pendulum to climb even higher.

Upward, upward, I rose. Until at last, I landed on the tallest building in the city.

The moon and the city lights illuminated the night. On the main streets, cars and people still crowded the scene.

I tapped the emblem on my chest, activating the suit’s systems.

A holographic UI spread before me, and I manipulated it with my hand. Part of the chest emblem detached and rose into the air—becoming a drone.

"Karen, find the girl in this picture."

I fed the AI the scanned photo, asking it to track her down.

"Oh, and also… that red-masked person I ran into the other day."

I added the recorded image of Red Cap from my mask’s footage as another search target.

"Understood."

A feminine-modulated electronic voice responded, and the drone flew off into the distance.

I looked out across the city.

…Such a noisy place.
A clash of races, cultures, all kinds of values mixed together. And yet, somehow, it has the breadth to embrace everyone without rejection.

I perched myself atop a gargoyle at the corner of the building. Rain had darkened the stone.

It was a rainspout shaped to ward off evil, with a lion-like face. Traces of water still marked where it had spewed out the recent rain.

I switched the mask’s eavesdropping function to monitor the police radio. Ready to respond to anything the moment it happened.

…Then, inside my mask, I displayed the image I had scanned earlier with the suit.

The photo from the birthday party we’d all celebrated together. Michelle, smiling faintly in the frame.

…I will save her.
I’ll bring her back here.
So we can all laugh together again.

I clenched my fists tightly.

---

I stroke the photo.

Peter, Gwen, Ned… and me.
It was taken on my birthday.
Everyone looks happy… smiling with gentle, peaceful faces.

I wonder what Peter is doing now?
He left without a word… I really wronged Gwen.
And Ned… I never even got to apologize in the end.
Harry isn’t in this photo, but… what did he feel, suddenly hearing the news of my death?

There are regrets.
There is guilt.

…This isn’t something I should be clinging to.
And yet, I couldn’t throw this photo away.
Even if it was a lie, I didn’t want to abandon that friendship.

I pull on the chain around my neck, taking the pendant into my hand.
An ornament shaped like a blue rose, now cracked and whitened with age.

It was the accessory Peter gave me on our summer trip.
I cradle it gently, careful not to break it.
A rose necklace, fragile and ready to shatter… infused with his feelings.

This too, I couldn’t leave behind.
Even if it was a lie, I didn’t want to discard that love.

Friendship, and love.
Things I once gained, but was forced to throw away.

For someone like me, they were emotions far too vast, too deep to deserve.
I tuck both away close to my chest.

I must have cried enough for a lifetime already.
I rub at my dry tear ducts with my hand… brace myself against the wall, and stand.

Disobeying orders.
The failure of having my identity exposed.

The organization intends to dispose of me.
Even if I survive… there will be punishment fitting the crime.

From here, I’m supposed to head toward headquarters—wherever that may be.

But even though it’s happening to me, it doesn’t feel real.
If I close my eyes and open them again, I feel like I’ll return to my everyday life…
But it was me who destroyed that everyday life.

There is no place left to return to.
No home… for me.

The device on the desk lights up.
My previous one had already been confiscated.

This one is new.
The contact info for Peter and Gwen is gone.

Which means, anyone who could be sending me mail is—

"…The organization, Unseelie Court."

So they’ve decided my fate?
They won’t bother explaining in detail, but… I take the device in hand.

The message is a long encrypted document.

I begin deciphering.
With the super-soldier serum’s enhanced memory, even decrypting while memorizing is effortless.

"…………?"

I keep deciphering.

"…………"

I keep deciphering.

"…Why…?"

I keep deciphering—then let the device slip from my hand.
I close my eyes, exhaling a long, deep breath.

I understand.
But I don’t accept it.

…Me.

I look to the red mask behind me.
My other self… no, my true nature… my real face.

The curved surface of the mask reflects a warped image of me.
I approach it, tapping the protector with my finger.

I slide it open… and take hold of the handgun.
A large-caliber pistol designed for use by a human enhanced with the super-soldier serum.

I grip it tightly.
Pressing the barrel to my temple like a prayer… it’s cold against my skin.

I close my eyes.
Shutting out all information from the outside world.

Right now, I just want to be calm.
…But the unbearable reality forces me toward a decision.

I open my eyes, lower the gun.
Exhale a long breath.

Footsteps.

I turn, raising the barrel toward the door.
With a click, the door opens—

『Sorry to keep you waiting. I wasn’t sure if you’d want food, but I brought donuts—』

I aim the gun at Tinkerer.

『…Is something wrong?』

"Tinkerer."

I turn over in my mind the information written in the mail.
The sender wasn’t the executive who usually contacts me… it was from the very leader of the organization himself, directly.

The contents of that mail were both an accusation and an order.

Tinkerer… was a member of the organization, Unseelie Court.
What’s more, he was one of the executives who had been giving me orders.
That explains why he knew so much about the organization—I understood now.

"Why did you betray us…?"

And then, he… had reached out to S.H.I.E.L.D.
He intended to hand me over.

No doubt… he was thinking of me.
He truly cared about me.

That’s why… I don’t mind his lies.
I’ve told countless lies myself, so I could understand his, too.

『…News travels fast. Was I being bugged, perhaps? I thought I was being careful.』

The words he returned were an indirect admission.
It was true: he had betrayed the organization.

And the organization always kills traitors.
Who has been the one carrying out those executions until now?

Me.
Redcap.

The organization demands Tinkerer’s head.
Not in some figurative sense—they want his head, physically.
There’s no evading that.

Even if I faked a corpse, I doubt I could fool the organization’s information network.
Which means… I have to kill him.

I struggle to suppress my trembling hands, never lowering the gun aimed at Tinkerer.

『…Hah.』

Tinkerer lets out a sigh as he walks.
I follow him with the barrel of my handgun.

But I cannot pull the trigger.

He sits down in a chair, looking at me.
He sets the box of donuts he was carrying onto the desk.

His eyes fall… then he looks up at me.

『I always thought I’d be killed someday.』

"…What are you—"

『I’m a wretch. Far more of a scum than you think I am. That’s why I always believed I’d be killed by someone, someday.』

I listen to his words in silence.
…Because I thought the same thing.

That I was a villain far removed from goodness, that I’d never be granted a peaceful death.
And so, I understood him.

『But still, you know—』

Tinkerer reaches toward the desk.
…There was a prototype handgun there.

I couldn’t stop him.
I couldn’t shoot.

If it had been anyone else, I would have pulled the trigger.

Tinkerer raises the handgun.

『Anyone but you… I’d rather not be killed by.』

And then, he points the gun at me.

"…Tinkerer."

Even then, I couldn’t shoot.

I can’t.

I can’t…

There’s no way I could.

『Why don’t we talk a little? Come on, sit down over there.』

I don’t know if my handgun could even pierce through Tinkerer’s mask.
Meanwhile, I’m unmasked.
If Tinkerer pulls the trigger, I’ll die.

But that doesn’t matter.
Because I can’t bring myself to pull the trigger anyway.

I sit down on the cot as he urges.
The cushion is thin, hard.

『…Good girl.』

We face each other, still pointing our guns.
…Part of me hoped that if I showed hostility long enough, Tinkerer would eventually pull the trigger.

But he doesn’t shoot.
Even though we’re pointing guns at each other, neither of us has the will to fire.
It’s a strange scene.

…At last, I speak.

"…Tinkerer, let’s run away together."

『Impossible. You know that as well as I do, don’t you?』

I understand.

The bomb in my chest… if it’s triggered, I’ll die.

If I clearly ignore the organization’s orders and run away with my target… there will be no excuses left.

The organization already knows of Tinkerer’s betrayal.
They have their own intelligence network… I have no idea how they found out.

That’s why, if we run together, they’ll notice.
And… I’ll die in the explosion.
I understand.

Even so.

"Even so… if you can stay alive."

I thought that was enough.

『…This is troublesome. Seems I was a little too kind to you.』

…Tinkerer looked at my face, then turned away.
Not looking at me… but somewhere, at someone far away.

『Mind if I tell you a story from long ago?』

"…Now’s not really the time—"

『You’d try to investigate it eventually anyway, so I might as well tell you.』

I furrow my brows.

"What story?"

『I’m a rationalist. I hate wasting time, hate seeing pointless effort, hate watching it happen.』

The gun is still pointed at me.

『So now… I’ll tell you. The story of a wretch who could not become a fairy—』

Tinkerer removed his mask.

Beneath it… thin blond hair.
Blue eyes.

They were… similar to mine. The ones I see in the mirror.

"Your origin."

But those eyes… were deep, endlessly deep… like the ocean depths.

Dark, with no visible bottom.

Muddy.