Tim returned to the classroom with his dical report and glanced towards the window before sitting down.
Theodore was in his seat, propping his chin with one hand, looking out the window with a cold and serene gaze. His raven-black hair hung down, obscuring his cornflower-blue eyes, and the smooth lines of his profile were as perfect as a marble sculpture. Coupled with his contemplative expression, he resembled an ivory statue.
Sunlight shone on Theodore's face, and the shadow Tim had expected lted away from Theodore's face like ice and snow.
At this mont, his handso and refined facial contours resembled another person Tim knew.
Superman, the hero of tropolis, that god among n.
"…" As if sensing his gaze, Theodore turned his head and gave him a cold glance.
Whether it was Tim's illusion or not, when Theodore saw the dical report he was holding, his eyes were like seeing a bird with its feathers clipped, silently dying at the intersection of sunlight and shadow.
"You've already finished your check-up!" his deskmate exclaid.
Tim withdrew his gaze and simply responded, "There were very few people queuing at the infirmary, so I took the opportunity to get checked."
Timothy was lying.
Theodore was very sure of this.
He had seen the other party's back, and given the severity of those scars, they could not possibly have faded in just a few days.
If Timothy had truly allowed dical personnel to examine his body, then he should now be sitting in so office, receiving steaming coffee, a soft blanket, and the comfort of a psychological counselor, not returning to the classroom so quickly.
What a pity, he should have had the physical examination, Theodore thought quietly.
The school, doctors, and child protection organization personnel were all on site; if he didn't seize this opportunity, it would be difficult to gather so much assistance a second ti.
But Timothy had flinched.
Theodore could understand his reaction.
Just like a patient who has been bedridden for a long ti, their muscles atrophy from disuse, losing the ability to walk.
A bird confined in a gilded cage for too long, with its eyes covered for too long, will also be unable to look directly at the free sun.
Theodore felt regret, but he wasn't particularly disappointed.
He provided the help he could, and Timothy made his own choice.
This matter ended here, and he would not interfere again.
Theodore half-closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair, a self-mocking sneer appearing at the corner of his lips.
After all, besides Batman and his Robin, who would ddle twice in Gotham?
Yes, in Gotham, what fool would ddle twice in a row?
Theodore's face was grim; the bathroom mirror reflected his face, tinged with a hint of suppressed anger.
— The clown is .
Theodore's eyesight had always been excellent.
So, during gym class, he instantly noticed the peculiarity on Tim's forearm when he was hanging from the horizontal bar.
Even though the other party pulled down his sleeve to cover it imdiately, it didn't prevent Theodore from seeing everything clearly.
Localized bruising from prolonged pressure, with long, vermilion-like blood marks overlapping on the bluish skin, were ligature marks from expert binding.
From the arrangent of the fine blood dots, what was used to tie Timothy's wrists was not even a rough rope, but so kind of thorny vine.
As for the large areas of friction wounds caused by tiny prick marks scraping along…
This posture… inverted suspension?
Theodore clenched his jaw.
This was an advanced technique only veterans could pull off.
What that man had done to Timothy was even worse than Theodore had originally expected.
"…"
Bruce Wayne. Theodore muttered the na through gritted teeth as he looked at himself in the mirror.
Great, another playboy, a rich man, living in a mansion, and especially fond of little boys with black hair and blue eyes.
Are all perverts in the world stamped from the sa mold?
Cold water splashed onto Theodore's face, wetting his bangs and eyebrows. Wet droplets rolled down his face, concealing his eyes, which were slightly reddened with anger.
Theodore leaned on the sink with one hand, planning to return to the classroom after his mood had cald. But just then, footsteps stopped behind him.
Theodore kept his head down, facing the sink, not even bothering to look up at the mirror.
— What, trying to ambush from behind?
Ubiquitous school violence was also a Gotham specialty, and Theodore wasn't surprised at all.
A quiet student with no parents and a zero impression on teachers might be ignored by other classmates, but they would beco a primary source of inco for school bullies.
It had been less than two months since school started, and Theodore had already dealt with four or five groups of school thugs using gentle thods.
What bad luck for you guys.
Did you really have to pick this mont to run into him?
A cold sneer on his lips, Theodore clenched his fist and spun around abruptly: "You guys are not— "
The latter half of the sentence lted quickly in his throat, like an ice cube dropped into hot water.
Theodore and Tim exchanged glances.
"Are you alright, Green?" Tim looked at him with concern. "Your eyes… I'm sorry, but have you been crying?"
"No, you're mistaken," Theodore said stiffly.
"Uh, I'm very sorry, I didn't an to offend you. I just wanted to say, if anyone is bothering you, I'm willing to help…"
Tim raised his hand, and with that movent, his tightly buttoned shirt cuff inevitably slipped a little, revealing a trace of bloodstains like red pen marks.
"Since you heard, you should mind your own business," Theodore interrupted Tim's unfinished words rudely.
Mind your own business!
Look at your wrist, look at your back. You're already in such trouble, and you still have the leisure to ddle in other people's affairs?
A mont later, Theodore couldn't suppress the impulse rising in his heart. He turned his head coldly and uttered a long string of veiled warnings.
"Patience is the easiest way to ss things up. No one will be moved by your concessions and forbearance; they will only take more and more from you—"
The scars on Timothy's body had spread from his back, which was not easily noticed, to his wrists, which were very easy to expose.
This indicated that the pervert had grown bolder and his mind had beco inflad.
He had initially been concerned about the world's gaze and reactions, but under Timothy's weakness and tolerance, this behavior would only beco more excessive.
Don't ask him how he knew!
If Timothy did not dare to resist and continued to be inactive, what awaited him would only be more intensified abuse and destruction.
Tim stood with his hands behind his back, quietly watching Theodore.
His eyes seed to possess magic, carrying an absolute rationality, like a detective analyzing the truth, capable of dissolving all flas of anger in those calm, ocean-like eyes.
"…"
Theodore suddenly couldn't speak anymore. Facing these blue eyes, so similar to an old acquaintance, he lowered his head and hurried away as if fleeing in disarray.
"...Rember what I said," Theodore whispered as they brushed past each other.
Only after watching Theodore leave the restroom did Tim lightly touch the earpiece in his left ear. Alfred's voice was clearly coming through the communication.
"Master Tim? It sounds like there was so unexpected situation on your end."
"I'm fine, Alfred," Tim glanced out the door again. "It's just Theodore—a classmate of mine—seems to be suffering from bullying."
"I just heard what sounded like a volcanic eruption," the old butler said unhurriedly.
"Yes, I believe his emotions have reached a breaking point, and he's subtly seeking help from anyone he encounters… No, it's not necessary, this is a school matter, I can handle it myself, don't worry, Alfred."
Sothing else was said on the other end of the earpiece, and Tim couldn't help but smile.
"Yes, the dicine has been applied."
Last night, Poison Ivy seed to have gone mad, first escaping from Arkham Asylum, then planting two enormous vine plants in front of the city hall building.
Robin tried to spray herbicide at the roots of the plants, but accidentally got his wrist caught midway and was swung upside down in the air like a roller coaster, doing three sorsaults.
Fortunately, he finally succeeded in his mission.
Hanging up the phone, Tim flexed his fingers, thoughtfully tapping on his pant seam.
So, who exactly was bothering Theodore?
As Tim's thought stirred, a table of nas quickly popped into his mind, neatly arranged as if created by a computer.
He decided that after class, he would go through the list in order and "talk" to each of those school bullies.
In the middle of the night, Theodore lay in bed, unable to sleep.
What appeared in his mind was sotis that terrifying and eerie mansion, and sotis Timothy's sincere and friendly blue eyes. Sotis it was the strong, fluid, oppressive body of an adult man, and sotis it was the horrific marks on Timothy's back and wrists.
"…"
Reason told Theodore that he should not ddle a second ti.
But… but…
Tim's gentle voice once again swept through Theodore's mind.
— "If anyone is bothering you, I'm willing to help…"
Theodore suddenly sat up from the bed, his face grim, and angrily punched his pillow.
This tattered old pillow, which had been at the orphanage longer than Theodore had been alive, burst open with one punch. The sticky, yellowed cotton didn't even float up, only stirring up a puff of dust.
Theodore, however, had already jumped out of bed, skillfully pushed open the window, and prepared to climb out.
Just then, a figure as dark and dangerous as a bat, like Gotham's darkest nightmare from legend, clearly swept past his window.
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