Gotham’s morning mist was heavy, as if simply stepping out the door would cause the fabric of one’s clothes to soak up a thick, oppressive dampness. This sodden sensation would follow your breath and cling to your skin through your clothes, enveloping your entire body.
At this hour, Gotham was not welcoming to guests. Locals never ventured out at this time—unless they were homeless, or possessed a different sort of identity, such as a mobster, a criminal…
Or perhaps, a vigilante.
“Hand over all your money—argh!”
A colorful bird glided through the air, and in the next instant, a green pixie boot landed on a man’s back amidst a scream of agony. As Robin retracted his grappling hook, he threw a Robin-shuriken, precisely knocking the pistol used for intimidation out of another man’s hand.
“Hey, do you really have to work during my break?” Robin landed gracefully, his tone carrying a hint of helpless amusement. As he handcuffed the two muggers, he muttered, “Alright, just kidding. Robins don’t get holidays.”
Having dealt with the two robbers who had opened for business so early in the morning, Robin’s eyes fell upon the poor student who had been the target.
“Hi? Should I say good morning or good evening? This isn’t the first time we’ve bumped into each other, right?” Robin raised a hand in greeting to the pitiable student. “I believe I told you, this isn’t Metropolis. It’s not suitable to be out this early.”
They did not seem like strangers.
The teenager Robin addressed pursed his lips. Under the dim streetlights, his features were somewhat difficult to make out. His longish hair blurred the lines of his face, not to mention the heavy, thick-rimmed glasses he wore. He looked every bit the part of an ordinary high schooler who would be easily bullied or picked on.
But a normal Gotham high school student would never be out at this hour.
The boy in glasses shrugged, his tone carrying a lighthearted vivacity that didn’t quite match Gotham’s atmosphere, nor did he sound like a student who had just been mugged. He complained, “It’s all my parents’ fault! The place they rented for me is way too far from the coast! I haven’t gotten my driver’s license yet, and they didn’t provide me with a bicycle. It’s not reasonable to call a cab at this hour, so what else could I do but walk?”
“Don’t dodge the logic. Wouldn’t it be fine if you just didn’t go out?” Robin wasn’t buying it.
“But I want to see the sun,” the curly-haired boy said, his eyes seemingly blinking piteously. “You can’t see it at all from here. You have to go to the shore by the bridge connection to catch a glimpse of Metropolis’s… Honestly, these two cities are so weird. They’re only separated by a bridge, yet you can hardly see the sun on this side.”
As he spoke, he met Robin’s disapproving gaze. His eyes crinkled as he smiled and said, “Besides, don’t I have you, the Great Robin?”
The Great Robin still frowned. “I can’t make it every time.”
“Alright, alright, at least you made it this time.” The boy pointed toward the coast. “To avoid me running into danger again, want to go together?”
He issued an invitation.
Robin shouldn’t have agreed to such a casual request. That was how it should have been.
But Robin knew the boy before him.
Through his Domino Mask and the other’s glasses, he met those blue eyes.
Tim Drake knew this person.
—Silo Sunlight, his classmate. To be more precise, a person from Metropolis who had transferred into their class at Gotham Academy a week ago.
But their first meeting hadn’t been at school; it was at dusk a week prior.
The sun had already set, Robin was on duty, and he happened to encounter a robbery.
Such things were ubiquitous in Gotham, and the victim of this particular mugging happened to be Silo Sunlight, who had just moved to the city.
That day, Silo Sunlight had been dressed much like he was now: medium-length curly hair, dorky thick-rimmed glasses, a particularly eye-catching Patrick Star T-shirt, and a red-and-blue Superman backpack. He was too conspicuous, too out of place, so he naturally became the mugger’s first choice.
He seemed stunned by Gotham’s “hospitality.” When Robin arrived, Silo was standing perfectly still, looking terrified, his mouth moving slightly as he whispered something.
Robin had made short work of the muggers and began to comfort the victim as usual.
But just as he was about to speak, he saw the Metropolite’s eyes light up as he looked at him in surprise: “Wow, a live Robin!”
—Well, he didn’t look like someone who needed comforting.
So Robin had turned and left.
He just hadn’t expected their second meeting to come so soon. Tim Drake, who had to go to school the day after finishing his Robin duties, was sitting obediently in his seat when he saw the new transfer student introduced by the teacher.
Tim originally thought their interaction could end there, but this new classmate of his had a rather peculiar constitution.
When passing the basketball court, a ball would nearly smash into his face; a flower pot from the faculty office would, by some stroke of luck, shatter right in front of his head; the most ridiculous instance was a roadside building plaque that dropped a screw just as he was passing by—clatter—and several dozen pounds of steel fell right before his eyes.
Under such circumstances, occasionally encountering robberies, kidnappings, or scammers didn’t seem that surprising anymore.
Because of these accidents, Tim couldn’t help but pay more attention to this classmate. He didn’t quite believe in coincidences. Initially, he thought the school accidents were just other students bullying the transfer.
Gotham was an exclusionary city, a fact reflected in every aspect of life. The semester had already been underway for a while, and the students had already formed their own cliques. When a strange outsider suddenly appeared, not everyone was going to express kindness or friendship.
But no matter how Tim investigated, he found that all these incidents were genuine coincidences. Tim found it hard to believe; he felt he must be overlooking something.
However, it was because of this attention that he inadvertently noticed that after moving to Gotham, the boy had a habit of waking up early to go to the coast and watch the sun rise.
In Metropolis, this might be a good habit, but this was Gotham.
That was the reason Tim had arrived here so quickly. He had to convince the other boy to stop doing this. Perhaps danger was unavoidable, but why give danger more opportunities to find you?
A vigilante is never omnipotent; Tim knew this better than anyone.
So, when Silo Sunlight extended the invitation, Robin agreed.
Silo was very happy. He liked Robin very much; one of his friends had that nickname when they were little, which gave him a sense of familiarity.
It was just like the feeling Gotham gave him—it was as warm as coming home.
Except that in the past, no one dared to rob or threaten him, Silo hummed a song popular among Metropolis youth and lamented inwardly.
They still had a way to go to reach the coast. Silo didn’t like overly quiet atmospheres; he enjoyed chatting with people, so even with a masked Robin, he could take the initiative to talk about something.
“So—what’s your name? How should I address you?” Silo asked curiously.
Robin gave him a strange look. “Robin.”
“I know you’re Robin, obviously. I mean—don’t you have another name? Just Robin?” Silo asked, puzzled.
Robin’s guard went up instantly. In his life as a vigilante, he could never expose his true identity; it would only bring him danger.
“Why are you asking that?” Robin’s voice held a subtle tension.
Silo looked at him as if he were being strange. “Curiosity, of course. Why else?”
Robin: “…”
“Forget it. ‘Robin’ sounds pretty cute too. Have I introduced myself? I’m Silo. Can I call you Little Ro?”
Robin: “…”
“If you don’t say no, I’ll take that as a yes?”
“I refuse,” Robin finally blurted out, unable to hold it in.
“Wasn’t it fine to just say so?” Silo laughed. He always liked to laugh. “I don’t really like guessing what others are thinking.”
As he said that last sentence, Silo had a sort of natural arrogance, as if the world was meant to revolve around him.
But before Tim could grasp that strange anomaly, it dissipated with Silo’s next words.
“We’re here!” Silo nimbly hopped over the railing, leaning his arm on the thin fence as he sat on it. He looked up. “From this position, the view should be clearer.”
Robin was silent for a moment, but at Silo’s urging, he sat on the railing as well. “You really like the sun?”
“I don’t,” Silo said.
The answer made Robin’s eyes widen unconsciously. “What?”
Silo looked up at the sky, which was vaguely beginning to brighten. “I have a UV allergy. I can’t be in the sun. That’s one of the reasons I moved to Gotham.”
“In Metropolis, I couldn’t even step out the door,” he said.
This was outside of Tim’s expectations. He had indeed investigated Silo Sunlight, but his investigation hadn’t been detailed to that extent yet. After all… Silo Sunlight was just his classmate, not some threat or enemy.
He actually didn’t like adding too many vigilante symbols and concepts into his daily life.
But in his daily observations, Silo Sunlight hadn’t used any protection against sunlight… Wait, Tim suddenly recalled.
Silo always kept a folding umbrella in his backpack; he had skipped PE once; and he never went near the windows when the sun was out.
Tim was a bit puzzled. “Then why do you…?”
“Because I still find it incredible.” Silo quickly pulled the folding umbrella from his messenger bag. The large black umbrella enveloped him completely in shadow—because in the next instant, the sunlight pierced through the clouds and fell upon Robin.
Silo looked up toward the east where the sun was rising, his tone carrying unconcealed wonder and lamentation. “Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?”
He asked.