章 11: [11]
Nuru had been trying to hold himself together. Trying being the key word. His heart was racing, his palms slick with sweat, and no matter how much he tried to slow his breathing, it wasn't working.
Batman—the Batman—was standing in front of him.
Everything about the Dark Knight felt larger than life, from the imposing set of his shoulders to the way his cape rippled like a living shadow. Stories of him were everywhere in Gotham, passed between those brave enough to speak of him aloud. Some said he wasn't human, just a wraith that hunted in the dark. Others said he was vengeance itself, brought to life.
Now, here he was. Real. And talking to Nuru.
Questions buzzed in his mind, a chaotic swarm he couldn't control.
Why is he here? Why is he even talking to me?
And then the question that stuck: Who's behind the mask?
The thought hit him like a hammer. He didn't even know where it had come from, but once it was there, it wouldn't let go.
Who are you?
Before he realized what was happening, something shifted. It wasn't like before, when he'd used the notebook. There was no deliberate action, no conscious decision. It was as if his mind had turned itself inside out, pulling at threads he didn't even know existed.
Images flickered in his vision, sharp and intrusive. A grand hall filled with shadows. A boy kneeling beside two lifeless bodies, his cries muffled by the rain. A man staring into the darkness, his reflection fractured by a windowpane.
The answer clicked into place with unnerving clarity.
Bruce Wayne.
The name echoed in his head, undeniable and absolute. The billionaire playboy. Gotham's grieving heir. It all fit together—the voice, the stature, the way Batman carried himself.
"No way," Nuru whispered, his breath catching. "No freaking way."
Batman's posture stiffened slightly, his unreadable gaze locking onto Nuru with a weight that could crush bones.
"...What?"
Nuru opened his mouth, trying to stop the words before they came out. But it was like his tongue had a mind of its own.
"You're him," he blurted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're Bruce Wayne."
The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.
For a moment, silence enveloped them, broken only by the distant sound of the city beyond the alley. Batman's presence seemed to grow even larger, a dark shadow that swallowed the space between them.
"How do you know that?" The question came quietly, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it. For whatever reason, he hadn't even attempted to deflect or oppose the abrupt proclamation either.
Nuru froze, his brain scrambling for an answer that wouldn't sound completely insane. "I—I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "It just... it just makes sense. I mean, you're you, and he's—"
He stopped himself, realizing he wasn't making any sense. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his pulse thundering in his ears.
Batman took a step forward, his cape brushing the ground. Nuru flinched instinctively, his breath hitching.
"You're coming with me," Batman said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"What?" Nuru's voice cracked. "No—wait, I didn't—"
"You're not safe out here," Batman interrupted. "And neither is anyone else."
The words struck something deep in Nuru, silencing whatever protests he'd been forming. He didn't have a choice—not really. The Batman had spoken, and in Gotham, his word was essentially law, right?
As the Dark Knight stepped back into the shadows, gesturing for Nuru to follow, the boy hesitated for only a moment before trailing after him.
----------
The journey through Gotham's alleys felt like a waking dream.
Nuru trailed behind Batman, his steps quick and uneven as he tried to match the Dark Knight's measured pace. The cape that had seemed so still moments ago now flowed like water with every movement, brushing the ground in near silence.
They moved through the shadows, the city's distant hum filtering through the narrow passageways. Every so often, a car would pass, its headlights sweeping across the graffiti-covered walls before disappearing around a corner. Nuru couldn't bring himself to look away from Batman, the figure ahead of him impossibly solid, like an anchor in a world that suddenly felt unsteady.
His mind wouldn't stop racing.
What is happening? Where are we going? Why me?
He had heard stories—everyone had—but standing this close to the man was something else entirely. The stories hadn't prepared him for the gravity Batman carried, the silent authority that made it impossible to argue, to refuse, to run.
The cold air bit at Nuru's skin, but he barely noticed. He was too preoccupied with the fact that every step seemed to drag him further into a world he didn't understand.
His gaze drifted to the edge of the cape, the faint glint of armor beneath the folds catching the dim light. It hit him again like a fist to the chest: Batman wasn't some myth or urban legend. He was real, as real as the filth under Nuru's feet and the faint ache in his legs.
They turned a corner, emerging into a wider street. Parked near the curb was a sleek, black vehicle, its glossy surface reflecting the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp.
At first, Nuru thought it might be the Batmobile, the fabled car of Gotham's dark protector. But as they drew closer, he realized it was something else entirely. A car, yes—but a luxury sedan, its design understated yet undeniably expensive.
Standing beside the vehicle, perfectly composed, was an older man in a dark suit. His posture was straight, his expression calm, as his sharp eyes landed on Nuru in quiet appraisal.
Nuru felt his stomach twist as recognition dawned.
Alfred Pennyworth.
He had seen the butler's face in the occasional newspaper photo, always beside Bruce Wayne at some charity gala or event. Alfred was an icon of Gotham's elite, a fixture in the world Nuru had only ever glimpsed from the outside.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said, his tone even and polite as his gaze shifted to Batman. "I take it the evening was productive?"
Batman inclined his head slightly. "We'll discuss it later."
Alfred nodded, his attention returning to Nuru. He didn't say anything, but his gaze was sharp, as if he were cataloging every detail about the boy in an instant.
Batman opened the rear door of the car, his movements smooth and deliberate. He turned his head toward Nuru, his expression unreadable beneath the cowl.
"In," he said simply.
Nuru hesitated for the briefest moment, his mind screaming at him to run, to turn around and disappear into the shadows like he always had. But something about the way Batman stood, the way Alfred watched him, made it clear there was no room for argument.
He climbed into the car, the soft leather of the seat sinking slightly under his weight. The door shut with a muted thud, sealing him inside.
The interior was immaculate, the air filled with the faint scent of leather and wood polish. The dashboard gleamed faintly with soft, ambient light, and every surface seemed perfectly maintained.
Nuru sat stiffly, his hands gripping the edge of the seat as the car eventually began to move. He quickly realized why it took a minute or two once Bruce Wayne, unmasked and his suit likely stowed away in the trunk or something, entered from the front passenger side and wordlessly sat down. Even surrounded by the following silence, the engine was so quiet that he could barely hear it, a smooth hum that contrasted sharply with the much louder engines of the taxis and buses he was more acclimated to the sound of.
He glanced out the tinted windows, watching as Gotham's skyline rolled by in blurred streaks of light and shadow. The city felt different from here, quieter and more distant, as if he were floating above everything instead of being consumed by it.
His thoughts churned.
I'm in a car with Bruce Wayne. No, I'm in a car with Batman.
The realization struck him again, leaving him breathless. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the front seat where Alfred sat. The butler's posture, again, was impeccable, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel as if the act of driving required no effort at all.
Nuru's mouth opened, then closed. He wanted to say something, to ask a question or make a joke or just do something to penetrate the suffocating fog that was the silence. But the weight of everything—the night, the reveal, the fact that he was sitting here at all—left him mute.
From the corner of his eye, he eventually caught Bruce turning slightly, his gaze fixating on Nuru.
"You have questions," The man said. It wasn't a question, just a statement.
Nuru swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice small.
Bruce waited, his silence an invitation for Nuru to speak.
"Why..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Why am I here? Why didn't you just leave me in the alley?"
For a moment, there was no answer. When one finally did arrive, however, it was voiced by a steady, almost measured tone.
"You know too much," The last remaining Wayne said. "About me. About my identity. And about the people we're dealing with."
Nuru's chest tightened, his thoughts both spinning and halting, especially at that last part. However, his mind was in too much of a frenzy for him to properly formulate responses. "I didn't mean to—"
There's no way he witnessed the switch. He must just suspect an affiliation between me and the Penguin or something, and, I guess, at least to a certain degree, the dude isn't wrong. God, my life has become such a fuckin' mess at this point.
"I know," Batman interrupted. "But that doesn't change what's happened."
Alfred's calm voice cut through the conversation.
"We'll be arriving shortly, Master Wayne."
Nuru's eyes darted to the window, his breath hitching as the car turned onto a long, winding drive. Trees lined the path, their branches arching over the road like a canopy. In the distance, silhouetted against the faint glow of the night sky, was a sprawling mansion.
Wayne Manor.
Nuru's grip on the seat tightened, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't just stepping into Batman's world—he was stepping into Bruce Wayne's.
And there was no turning back, it seemed.
クリエイターの想い 
LiteraryOutlaw
LiteraryOutlaw I'm not exactly sure how long I want Nuru to be around Bruce like he's going to be in the next few chapters. The biggest hurdle I see is the MC's age, so, even if Nuru eventually wanted out and had a desire to leave, Bruce, or Alfred for that matter, obviously aren't going to just let an eight-year-old kid leave and roam free like he's been doing for the past few months.
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