TO BE A HERO


"For the past month, reports have surfaced on recent decline of crime in Tokyo, statistics have been revealed that-"

"Residents around Shinjuku said to have seen a man crawling up the walls of their buildings-"

"...And in our latest news, witnesses has claimed that an unknown masked figure was seen exiting Nihombashi Mitsukoshi in Chuo,after stopping four armed suspects attempting to rob the establishment. Other sources have said to have seen the same masked man swinging through Shinjuku-"

"-The media, and the internet has since nicknamed the vigilante as 'Spider-Man', Tokyo's new hero who was seen numerous times foiling burglaries and crimes alike for the past month or so-"

"The 'Spider-Man' as residents of Tokyo said, is an urban myth that has risen to popularity recently-"

Click.

The television screen went blank and the thumb that had been pressing down on the remote placed it down on the coffee table as the viewer spun her chair and faced another which held a laptop with a excited glint in her eye.

She opened the device and immediately began typing as the door opened.

"Finally got out of your smoke break?"

The man shut the door and narrowed his eyes at her as he set down the grocery bag with a huff, dragging a cigarette out of his mouth as he did so.

"Hey, I don't judge any of your hobbies, so don't go nagging at me with mine." He countered with a scrutinizing look as the woman rolled her eyes. "I already get enough of that from Moka's grandmother." The man muttered, sitting on the couch and turning on the television.

Spinning her chair, she stopped to face the man's back.

"Well, maybe she has a point, Keisuke." She shot back.

Keisuke scoffed, grabbing the remote and turned the television on, raising an eyebrow when the news channel displayed a blurry photo of a man hanging by a rope attached to a building.

"Seriously? They're still reporting on this guy?" Keisuke shook his head, chuckling in amusement and disappointment. "God, since when has news been about these freaky wakados, loonies, and false speculations?"

With an offended gasp, the man turned to see her glaring at him. "First of all, you of all people don't get to talk since you run a magazine about the supernatural and other-worldly." She raised one finger. "Second, Spider-Man is real and he saves people, multiple sources have seen him in action." She huffed. "Honestly, Keisuke."

The man stared at her blankly, before snorting. "Believe what you want to believe, Natsumi. I only run this magazine because it's all about the money, you're the one who likes these weirdos, oh beloved niece of mine." He said flatly as he downed a can of beer.

With another huff, Natsumi gave up and turned away from her uncle and back to her laptop. Idly glancing at the scattered photos of her current person of interest she began typing a new article for the magazine.

After a few minutes, the woman nodded in satisfaction, Natsumi looked at the opening paragraph happily.

'Tokyo police have gone on record on disapproving the act of the hero. Citing it as vigilantism and abuse of law, much to the media and most of the city's citizen's disagreement and protest. However despite transgressions from the boys in blue and bystanders, the question still remains on everybody's minds...

Who is, the Spider-Man?'


"Spider-Man..." Oliver rose an eyebrow as he looked at the newspaper with intrigue. His wife, Mary, perked up at the mention of the name as she sat down next to him.

"The new hero, yes?" Mary asked. "My coworkers in the hospital were talking about him. Yui even mentioned that she was saved from a mugging last Thursday because of him." She mentioned as Oliver gave a grunt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing much, it's just..." Her husband shook his head as his eyes scanned over the article covering the masked figure. "Spider-Man, this vigilante. I mean this guy zips around Tokyo once a day saving people without expecting anything in return while covering his face." The father recalled.

Mary nodded. "It's sort of... inspiring and sad, don't you think?" She commented, causing Oliver to raise an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"This young man, who does his best to make the world a better place, without any expectation or reward, is inspiring, but what made him lead this sort of life? What is his goal? His motivations? Surely someone must have had something that happened in their life to recklessly risk their life, and breaking the law, for a stranger." Mary shook her head in disapproval. "He has his heart in the right intentions but the way he does it is all wrong."

"Maybe so," Oliver nodded in agreement with Mary's words. "But is he really doing anything wrong? Sure, he breaks a few laws, but he's ultimately doing something for the greater good."

"I'm just saying that just because one punches harder, jumps a little higher, should not get away with what should be the police's work." Mary huffed. "I like for what he stands for, but breaking 'a few' laws?" She finger-quoted her husband.

Oliver sighed. "Does it really matter? Honey, we need to stop thinking about legal and illegal, and start thinking about right and wrong." He countered. "If one has the power and responsibility to to the right thing, then they should, regardless of the law." He said, sticking firmly to his beliefs.

Mary sighed.

"Your morals are gonna kill you one day, I swear." She muttered as she faced the television and proceeded to turn it on.

"For those just tuning in, it's seven in the evening on June 13th, 2021. And now we turn to our weatherman Haruto Tanaka. Haruto, please tell me we it's going to be a peaceful and silent night, this evening?

"Sorry, Izou, but we've got heavy rains not only expected later tonight, but for the rest of the week!"

A grimace befell Mary's face. "The weather these days hasn't been letting up during the past few months." She remarked, worry gracing her features as she turned to her husband. "Has (Y/N) called yet?"

Oliver stopped his reading, setting the newspaper down and shook his head. "Not since he went out after lunch, no." He answered. "Maybe he's out with some friends?"

"He has been going out of the house recently, nearly everyday even..." Mary recalled, before shaking her head. "I just hope he isn't going with the wrong crowds." She mumbled.

Tokyo during the nights was not as safe as she liked it to be. Most recently, the police had been finding discarded weaponry in trash bins located around areas in the city presumably by the rising gang that had been steadily making it into the news headlines. While she trusted her son, she hoped he didn't do anything stupid while out in the city.


"Man, didn't school teach you that it's not cool to do drugs?"

He was just in the process of stopping an illegal drug exchange between some shady men, and a bunch of teens in a back alley around one of the poorer parts of Tokyo, specifaclly in Yanaka, around the Taito ward.

It was a bit strange to him. For the past month, all he had been fighting were wannabe thugs and robbers who were probably middle-aged or in their late thirties. He was no stranger to teens his age being just as bad, of course, he still remembered the times he had been bullied by his seniors, how they humiliated and embarrassed him with no reason but for fun.

He absolutely hated it.

And now, with his abilities, he could hit back, just as hard.

Most of the men were already down. However, he still had to deal with the more stubborn few who refused to give up. He sighed. One of the teens, not much younger than himself, had decided to pick up a pipe, facing him.

The kid had the gall to think he had a chance to have a go at him.

That was just plain stupid, it was almost laughable.

"Seriously?" He regarded his fellow teen with a flat stare behind his mask.

To the kid's credit, the smaller teen pulled up a threatening face. The boy circled around the masked teen, practically bouncing on his toes, ready to attack. He swung the pipe with what would have been impressive strength if he'd been up against a normal human, but (Y/N) just caught it with his hand and wrenched it from the boy's grip, before shooting several globs of webbing to attach him to the wall behind him. He then shot one to cover his mouth when he started shouting obscenities.

The vigilante chuckled, approaching him and patted his face. "Calm down there, junior." He said with a condescending tone in his voice. "You kiss your mother with that mou-"

Behind you!

His spider-sense went off, and he turned around just in time to block a punch to the head from another teen, and several more that followed, as the teen seemed to be on a desperate adrenaline rush to take him down.

(Y/N) actually laughed. "That all you got?" He mocked.

Was he being a bit arrogant?

Probably.

A quick punch to the jaw knocked the assaulting teen out cold right before another one jumped on his back and tried to strangle him. He quickly threw him off and webbed both of them up.

"Alright, so we done here or wha-"

Before he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

(Y/N) hissed a bit as he held his arm. A fresh cut, that tore through his tracksuit and into his flesh. Blood dripped lazily as the vigilante looked up at the last teen.

With speed, he slammed the culprit into the wall with an arm over his chest.

"You're paying for that." He growled. Irritation and a slight bit of genuine anger found in his tone.

The boy gasped in terror, dropping the knife one of the previous boys had used with a clatter, and started panting in scattered breaths, panic seizing him up, his eyes wide with horror as he helplessly tried to cower away from the vigilante.

"Please! Please, please don't hurt me please. I'm sorry! Please!" He all out screamed, turning his head to the side, avoiding eye contact with the older teen, frightened tears beginning to fall from his blue eyes.

(Y/N) stopped instantly, mid punch, staring at the boy in front of him who was about thirteen/fourteen years of age, surprised by the reaction.

Sighing, the teen approached the panicking boy.

"Are you going to hurt me?" The younger teen asked, his voice wavering.

The masked vigilante rolled his eyes. "No." He answered flatly. "You looked like you just pissed your pants, that's enough for me." He snarked, a bit of bite in his tone as he said that, the boy flinched in return as he looked down.

(Y/N) hefted the teen with ease, and carefully webbed him up on the wall.

"Don't do something stupid like that again," He warned the trapped boy. "Or else."

The boy didn't knew whether it was about the drug exchange or the wound the vigilante had got thanks to him. The older teen seemed equally annoyed by both so the boy just nodded slowly.

"Good." The masked teen placed his arms akimbo before turning around. "I've already dialed the police to tell your mommy and daddy you did an opsie along with your friends, so sit tight and shut your mouth." He said.

Lazily waving at the younger boy, the vigilante began his exit out of the alleyway. "Because by then your out of my hands. Thank god." He muttered the last part.

Yeah, (Y/N) admit that he was a bit mean-spirited, but no could blame him for it! It was just so annoying to deal with these kinds of immature idiots all the time, it was tiring, and repetitive.

He was rude to the kid, so what? Big whoop. Kid deserved it anyway.


(Y/N) slumped in the armchair and threw his phone on the table. He rubbed his half-lidded eyes with the inside of his palm as he gave out a groan.

Tired.

He was so tired.

Who knew being a vigilante was exhausting?

Couldn't the fine folks of the city quit killing each other for a night?

He needed to eat.

So, what was he doing now?

Well, Pizza Hut seemed to look so reassuring after a rather rough day of fighting.

Every night and day was a tussle of conflict. He had been awake since three in the morning and had not stopped ever since then. The past month had been sneaking out of the house, hope to god that he remembered filling up his web cartridges, try not to get hit by a stray bird while swinging, and dealing with some wannabe thugs every few hour or so. Rinse and repeat, that was his daily routine now.

Stopping burglaries and robberies were a bit easier than expected. Dodging gunfire was a bit tricky in the start, but he had gotten the hang of it. His movement was natural and swift, he was quick on his feet and ended the fight pretty fast. It was all natural to him, it was like second nature. Of course, there was a few mishaps here and there, but he could confidently say that it was all good.

Honestly, he still didn't get why people ran to him for photos. Who wants to get shots about some dude in a tracksuit? And why did they always have to thank him? It was just the right thing to do.

He didn't need, nor want, any recognition or praise from this. In fact, he was annoyed by it. But he couldn't really blame them. He was just... indifferent to their compliments and gratitude. He did his job, fulfilled his duties.

That was it. He'd done his responsibilities. Would it matter on how he acted to those he had saved? No, definitely not. There was nothing to it.

Grabbing his phone once more, he went through police frequency he managed to tap into, and checked for any major crimes.

A car running the red light?

He was sure the police could handle that one.

Speeding car?

Nah.

With a groan, (Y/N) let his head drop as his phone clattered back on the table.

"It sucks being the smartest guy in the room..." He muttered offhandedly as his eyes drooped slowly. While he knew that what he did was by far, the most stupidest things he had done, he knew that it was too late to back out.

Another voice in his head told him, if he just go home and back in bed, the longer he'd lie in that bed the more chance of sleep he would have and the better tomorrow will be. Maybe the police could handle just one night without Spider-Man?

Yeah... sleep sounded so good right-

"Excuse me?"

Almost immediately, (Y/N)'s head jolted upward, letting him know he briefly fell asleep. His eyes grow wider than usual and took on a wild look as he scanned for new signs of danger. For a few seconds he felt confused, unsure of where he was, then it all came back to him-

He was still in a pizzeria.

A giggle came from the employee, and he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"S-Sorry." He stuttered apologetically. "It's just been a busy night..."

"I'll say," She agreed as she gently set the small pan filled with pizza on his table.

She gave him a teasing smile.

"Hope you cheer up, Mister 'Smartest guy in the room'!" She said with a small chuckle. (Y/N) felt his ears going red as his cheeks tinted pink once more.

(Y/N) sputtered, before groaning. "So you heard that..."

With a playful shake of the head, the girl turned and began to walk back to the kitchen. Idly, the twin tailed style she made for her hair made it bop up and down as she walked away.

Trying to ignore the embarrassment, he focused on his meal.

There was nothing better than the pizza. While it was no Pizza Amigos. Pizza Hut was still a rather good replacement. The base was the perfect combination of light inside and crunchy on the bottom. The toppings were fresh and fragrant. Just the right thing to eat after a night of crime.

With that, he dug in.


A satisfied sigh came out of his mouth as (Y/N) patted his stomach.

Pizza was definitely a good choice of a meal. Truly one of the best dishes that were ever invented. Though he did gave himself a reminder to rationalize how to spend his allowance.

Money was used for fixing his stuff, mostly sewing tools, cloth, and spare equipment for his tracksuit, and a few tools to fix his bracers. Not to mention buying materials, and manufacturing artificial silk for his web-shooters.

Those things weren't cheap.

However, he needed to stop using his father's own chemical mediums and equipment. It was bad enough that the teen was nearly found out had he not come up with a quick, not to mention lame, excuse.

His formula for his webbing was not perfect. It was quick to dissolve and sometimes incompatible with his shooters which made swinging through the city a much harder task than he remembered. Luckily, if he could just the right chemical compounds, he could-

"Ah!"

"Whoops." The teen looked down at the person he bumped into. It was a kid, a few years younger than him, judging by the standard issue school polo and slacks, he was in elementary at best. With an apologetic look, he outstretched his hand towards him. "Sorry about tha-"

"Nagi-kun!"

A young girl, wearing a uniform identical to the boy, had ran over to them and knelt down to check up on the kid-Nagi!-in haste and gently hefted him up with care. "Are you okay?" She asked, before switching her gaze and glaring at the teen in front of them.

"Watch where you're going, jerk!"

(Y/N) blinked.

"That was uncalled for..." He muttered, before shaking his head. "Look I'm sorry for bumping into your friend, is that what you want to hear?"

"Sorry won't heal any bruise Nagi-kun might get." The girl huffed, and (Y/N) felt his eye twitch.

With a small sigh of annoyance, the teen shot back. "Well maybe your precious Nagi-kun should watch where he's going." He remarked in irritation.

Was he seriously arguing with an elementary student?

Yes. Yes, he was.

"It's okay, Aya-chan." Nagi reassured her, before he gave a small nod to him. "I apologize for bumping into you too, stranger-san." He said, as (Y/N) shrugged, Nagi turned to Aya. "I'm sure this was all just a misunderstanding." He squeezed her hand, giving her a charming smile.

The girl blushed, "If you say so..." She conceded as they began to walk away, a dreamy look on her face. As they walked past him, she turned and gave stuck her tongue out to him in a mocking expression.

(Y/N) stared at the pair, before he shook his head.

Rude little brat.

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he took a detour from the sidewalk and proceeded to make his way through the alley, flipping through metal fences with eases, and avoiding coming into contact with stray cats, people, and most of all, walls.

His nose still felt sore. That was the last time he was going to try web swinging in an narrowed alleyway.

With the slightest of effort he began running at a high speed, taking sharp turns from street to street, barely breaking a sweat and not panting in the least as the rain drizzled down on the city. He didn't mind it, it was the least of his concern right now.

Out of a whim, he had managed to find this run down building by chance. He had began using it as a resting place of sorts. No one would find him there, and people would least suspect the Spider-Man using this as a napping place. It was the perfect hideout, of sorts, he regularly napped there from time to time when he had nothing to do.

Glancing from left, to right, he made sure no one was looking, then discreetly made his way into the building.

Stepping into the old factory building was like stepping into a whole other world. It was like venturing onto a set of old train tracks and following them as far as they'd take you. Well, ignoring the grass peeking up between the slats and the bits where the metal was rusted and broken. The building seemed to shudder in the wind and sway as the rain attacked it.

He pulled down his hood. The building was empty, but for a few obsolete pieces of rusted factory equipment, pieces that seemed perfectly at home within the building's vine-covered walls. Just as it had been outside, the inside looked like something out of a dystopian movie, the corrugated walls as rusted and useless as the equipment they housed. Beams stretched high overhead, and rain dripped down through cracks in the ceiling.

He stepped further into the building, looking around as he left wet footprints on the floor in his wake. His hands trailed along the old beams.

He looked up where a huge hole had been made. Aiming, he pressed the triggers on his palms, and watched as the webbing flew from the nozzle and attached itself to the metal beams poking out of the concrete slabs.

With a grunt, he pulled, and launched himself onto the air, landing on the third floor with a wet splat from his shoes coming in contact with the floor.

Heading to the edge, he proceeded through the creaky and rusted metal stairs built onto the side and made his way to the rooftop.

Like the rest of the building, the rooftop's metal bars and containers were rusted and degrading. Shrubbery and green grass grew within the cracks of the tiled flooring, overtaking the sides and even enveloping some of the bars.

A single red torii gate sat at the corner of the rooftop.

Unusually, it looked rather well-maintained compared to the rest of the building.

Idly picking up a piece of debris, he threw it over his shoulder. It sailed over the air, flying over the edge of the building, and dunking into the open dumpster on the other side of the building. Putting his journal in his bag, he stood up.

Clapping his hands of crumbs and dirt, he stretched a bit. Just then, his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw who was the caller and answered it.

"What's up, Mom?...Eggs and milk? Okay I'll get them. Love you too."

He set his bag down, and started removing his jacket, shivering slightly from the breezy chill of the evening. Grabbing the hem of his pants, he pulled it down with one hand, the other inside the bag and getting his costume.

He quickly put on his spray painted track suit, and webbed his shoes to his pants. Then ran a hand over his hear before putting on his mask.

He grabbed his bag and threw it. He aimed at it, and with a quick press, his bag was snatched from mid air and stuck onto the side of a crate nearby.

Carefully, he perched himself on the edge of the building and took his phone out and scanned the police frequency.

Now to wait.


Darkened gray smudges of wool threateningly surrounded the sky; like a predator would encircle its prey. A startling low rumble rang loud in the cool fall air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires, barricading everything in its way.

Despite the angry weather this night, he proceeded with his plan.

It was an easy job, really. Steal a car and sell it. What was so hard about it? An easy, looking one sat right there at the parking lot, unattended and unguarded.

Quickly, the man opened the door with ease after messing around with it for a few moments. Glancing from left to right for any bystanders that happened to look his way.

Shutting it, he put one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the plastic cover on the steering column. Lightly hitting it, the plastic protection broke free and swung down, revealing the wires hidden within. A grin settled on his face, and he began to-

"Ahem."

Jolting in shock, the man let out a small shriek as he jumped, hitting the top of his head on the roof of the car. Snapping his head back so fast he thought he nearly gave himself whiplash, his eyes landed on the figure he swore to god was not there moments earlier.

"Hey there bud," The owner of the voice began lazily, muffled slightly by the mask. "I'm a bit tuckered out right now and frankly, I want sleep so I'll skip the foreplay. For future reference, when you try to steal cars, how about not dressing like some kind of criminal, yeah?" He advised, only to be met with silence.

"Y-You a cop?" He managed to find his voice.

"Seriously?" The masked figure flatly said. "You really think I'm a cop? A cop in a tracksuit and goggles, you're not one of the brightest bunch are ya?"

The man stared at him with a confused look on his face before his eyes trailed down to the figure's chest and widened upon the sight of the spider symbol.

Backing up as close as he can to the door, the man's hands found the door knob and pulled it. To his relief, the door had swung open and he proceeded to make his way out of the car-

Thwip!

The car door slammed shut courtesy of a line of a white rope and the thief screamed in alarm.

"Where you goin?" His fellow intruder asked. "We were just talking-" He didn't listen to the figure ramble on as he tried to open the door once more and-

Thwip!

The door shut again.

The thief growled and swung it more forcefully for the third time.

Thwip!

"Dude-"

Thwip!

"Stop-"

Thwip!

"Trying-"

Thwip!

"Already."

His boiling point reached and his fear gone, the man screamed in frustration and anger, then shoved his whole body against the door, forcefully swinging it upon and landed on the wet asphalt roughly. He glanced back at the car and-

No one was there.

He stood up shakily, looking around him-

"Incoming!"

The thief screamed once more as a pair of legs wrapped around him and he was thrown onto the ground. Quickly shoving his hand to his pocket, he took out his weapon as he stood up and flipped the knife open.

"Just let me go." The man warned.

To his surprise, the red and blue figure recoiled in shock and began to raise his hands up in defense as he lowered himself.

"I-Is that a knife?" The figure asked. "Is that a real knife?"

"Y...Yes it's a real knife." The thief smirked, his confidence returning.

"My weakness," The teen bemoaned. "It's small knives!"

"Just let me go-"

"Anything but knives!"

With a shout, the man suddenly found the hand holding his prized possession stuck to the wall by the same thing that the figure used to close the car door. He struggled, looking back and forth from his hand to the red and blue wearing teenager.

"W-What the hell is this?" The thief stuttered as panic started to seize him.

"Oh, you know... artificial silk... webbing..." The teen drawled. "Trust me..."

Thwip!

Another one flew from his wrist, and ensnared the man's other hand.

"You don't wanna know." The vigilante said. "Alright time to call the cops and be done with this so I can head to bed-"

Thwip!

The man wheezed in pain when he took a shot of a ball of webbing right in the crotch. "What the hell man!?"

"Sorry, sorry!" The teen apologized, twisting his arm as he inspected his bracers. "My web-shooters are kinda new so there's a few kinks-"

Thwip!

"...Whoops."

A muffled scream rang out of the parking lot.

With a hiss of pity, the teen approached the man whose mouth was now tasting a whole ball of silk. "Just let me..." Grabbing the man by the chin, he struck the small webbing that covered his nostrils. The thief breathed in air desperately.

Sirens filled the air, the vigilante turned around just in time to see a police motorcycle pull up before them.

"...And here comes the boys in blue."

"Freeze!" The man said, whipping out a gun and aiming at the teen. "You in the tracksuit, don't move!"

The masked figure raised his hands in the air. "You serious?" He asked the officer in disbelief.

"Who are you?" The police questioned.

Dropping his arms, the teen let out an exaggerated groan, turning to look at the thief. "No seems to grasp the concept of the mask-"

"Freeze!"

Bullets flew.

The vigilante leaned to the side immediately, dodging the gunfire with ease. Swiftly, he flipped over the officer and grabbed the pistol out of the man's hands midair, landing on the other side, pistol in hand.

Grabbing it by the barrel, he raised it to the officer who raised his hands in surrender.

The teen scowled behind his mask. "I just did eighty-percent of your job, huh, and this, this, is how you repay me?" He asked, throwing the gun to the side.

The officer was at a loss of words.

Scoffing, the vigilante turned around just as more sirens blared. Running towards a lamppost, he jumped, and used it as a stepping stone and shot out a line of webbing, swinging away.


"(Y/N)?"

One knock.

"(Y/N)?"

Another knock.

"(Y/N), it's time to get up!"

A third knock, this one louder than the previous.

With a groan, (Y/N) rose from his slumber with half lidded eyes.

"(Y/N)? Can I come in?" The voice of his mother rang through the door.

Just as he was about to answer, realization struck him, and his eyes glanced at his body.

He was still wearing his costume.

"No!" He exclaimed. Webbing the door, he yanked off his mask as the rattle of the door knob continued. Grabbing the collar of his tracksuit, he desperately attempted out of his vigilante clothes. "Give me a second, Mom! I'll get the door!" He yelled, sticking to the wall that his bed hugged as he pulled his costume. "Just-Just give me a second!"

The knocking continued.

"(Y/N)?"

"Just a sec!" He hung from the ceiling by his foot as he managed to successfully remove his pouch. He yelped when he lost his footing, and ended up crashing on the floor with a thud just as he got his jacket off.

"What was that?" His mother asked.

"It's nothing! It's nothing!" (Y/N) assured her as he finally kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his pants. Rushing to his wardrobe, he shoved his costume in the closet and grabbed a simple hoodie and pants.

That was the moment his mother opened the door.

She stared at his son as he gave a nervous grin, her brow raised in curiosity.


"Oh, come on! Mom! Do I have to?"

Mary shook her head as she sipped her morning coffee. As the news said, light rain drizzled down as the sun came to rise up.

"(Y/N), you are getting a part-time job and you will like it."

Her son groaned in annoyance.

"But-"

"No buts." She interrupted him, setting her coffee down as she leveled a stern look at the teen. "(Y/N), your father and I have noticed you've been spending your allowance too much, and so, we may have to cut you back. So from now on, you're getting you're money from getting a job."

She smiled at him.

"Doesn't that sound fun?"

"No." He flatly told her. "And besides, what self-respecting establishment that abides by the law would ever hire a minor?" The teen sarcastically added, his mother rolled his eyes at him.

"Don't worry, your father and I found one." She assured him. "Do you remember Mister Suga."

"Hm..." (Y/N) tapped his chin in thought. "Let's see... tall guy, black hair, doesn't look like he shaved in a week, pretty shady looking, and smells like cigarettes half the time?" He recalled.

Mary sighed at her son's... creative description. "Yes. Him." She nodded, "Apparently, the small editorial he runs is a bit short of staff. You're father talked to him, and he agreed in letting you work for him."

"And I have no say in this whatsoever?" (Y/N) sighed.

"Yes." Mary nodded. "Now go, your job starts today and he's expecting you."

"Ugh. Fine." The teen relented. He stood up from his chair, eating his last slice of toast as he grabbed an umbrella. "For the record, I don't like this." He remarked.

"Have a nice day, Sweetie." Mary smiled at him.

Grumbling, (Y/N) exited the house.


"So you're the kid, eh?" Keisuke looked him over with a stare,(Y/N) scratched his cheek, shifting in the seat provided by the older man as they sat in his office, which also seemed to double as his home.

Shortly after the teen found the man's house, which was just a few good blocks away from his, the man had rather been easy going than he had expected, inviting him over with a friendly chuckled. (Y/N) noticed that the man often looked grumpy every time he saw him around the streets.

With a shrug, Keisuke chuckled and pat him on the shoulder. "Ah, what the hell? Alright you're in, part time jobs are the best thing a kid your age can get." He told him as he stood up. "I'll have you help Natsumi around for the most part as a reporter, she likes going around and asking stories about weirdos anyway."

"They're real, and you know it." His niece huffed from her spot on the kitchen counter. A confused look crossed (Y/N)'s face.

"Stories about weirdos?" He asked.

Keisuke nodded, "Yup." Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he opened it. "Spirits, aliens... you know, the supernatural and the conspiracy theories." He said, jugging the liquid as he did. "At first we were investigating about the rumors of some kind of Sunshine Girl running around. Y'know, weather maidens who can control the elements or other crap people say."

With a satisfied gasp, he set the beer down. "But know, we got this other wacka-doodle swinging around the city. You probably heard of him, have you?" He gave a pointed look at the teen.

"...Spider-Man?" (Y/N) supplied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that weirdo." Keisuke nodded. "He's been sweeping out news channels and online articles for the past month, and I thought of jumping on the bandwagon to get more revenue." The man said. "So picture this headline..." He started.

He waved his hand on one side to the other as he spoke.

"Spider-Man: Hero, or Menace?" Keisuke chuckled at his title.

Natsumi glared at her uncle. "Spider-Man's not a menace, Keisuke. He's a hero, he saves lives." She argued.

(Y/N) found himself agreeing with her.

Keisuke rolled his eyes. "Saves lives-that's what the police are for." He scoffed. "The title will attract people. Hell, if we could even get shots of the guy we'd get an exclusive but so far, nobody's gotten a decent of photo of him so we're focusing on the Sunshine Girl rumor for now."

"That's where I come in." Natsumi spoke up. "We go around and scoop up information or any leads on the story." She informed. "And now with you here, it'll be twice as fast!" The girl said with a smirk.

"So I follow your lead-hey!" (Y/N) asked as Natsumi dragged him to the exit.

"Basically." She nodded. "Alright then, new intern..." Natsumi looked at (Y/N) with a gleam in her eyes.

"Ready to find yourself a Sunshine Girl?"