The two eldest sons of the Wayne family sat obediently in their chairs, like straight-A students called out for breaking a rule. Batman stood in front of them, his silence weighing on the air like lead.
“Tim. You first.”
Tim jolted, like a bullseye had just been struck. He swallowed hard, sat up straighter, and tried his best to keep his tone calm and objective.
“Uh… so, it started when I was working on the computer. Then—then Jason came back, and we started talking about the past… about the first time he met Robin… and then Dick showed up…”
His voice grew softer, but he kept going, “And somehow it became… a, um… brotherly… conversation about a girl…”
Alfred cleared his throat gently nearby, elegantly smoothing over the awkward implications of certain word choices.
On the sidelines, Damian leaned against the doorframe like he was watching a royal drama unfold, eyes full of mischief. Steph was sipping from her cup, her expression the kind that said just in time for the popcorn. Cassandra showed no emotion, but her fingers tapped the table slowly, rhythmically—she was enjoying this.
Batman’s gaze turned to Jason.
“Can you explain why you’re… this invested in the girl?”
Jason kept his head down, shoulders slumped like they were bearing the weight of something far too heavy. He didn’t answer right away, just stared at his knees in silence.
Then, finally, his voice rasped out—hoarse, almost broken:
“I think I… forgot someone.”
The room went completely still.
Batman’s eyes sharpened. “A girl from the Narrows?”
Jason shook his head, sinking deeper into the chair. “I don’t know… I really… don’t remember.”
The moment he said it, it was like he collapsed inward.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPuWI1LHOqH
Not the silence of a soldier. Not the defiance of pride.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcT3ZG2bxel
But something hollow. Something like despair.
Dick flashed Batman a look. His eyebrows were practically doing backflips: Please. Stop. Just look at him.
“Hey, come on now,” Dick quickly cut in, trying to keep the mood light. “It was forever ago anyway. I’ll check my stuff, maybe I’ll dig up a clue or two.”
Batman didn’t press further.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhdYo7SmiEF
His gaze was still severe, but after glancing at Jason, he seemed to relent—just a little.
Jason stood up faster than before, like all he wanted was to get out of that room. He made it to the door and already had his hand on the knob when—
“Oh! Almost forgot—” Stephanie called out, holding up a thick notebook. “I found a bunch of old scrapbooks in the room. Jason, you want yours back? Dick?”
Jason paused and turned around, confused. “Scrapbooks?”
Dick looked just as baffled. “We had scrapbooks?”
A small stack of bulky binders was placed on the dining table. Lined up in a row, their thickness was… alarming.
Tim stared at the neat, military-precision covers and muttered under his breath, “This is more intense than my Batman patrol log collection…”
The scrapbooks clearly fell into four main categories.
The first was labeled “Jason.”15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7EHmNQ1W1Y
Inside were newspaper clippings of his debut as Robin—pictures of a laughing boy, a smile so bright it looked like the only sun in all of Gotham.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfkmPnccEMB
The last page was his final public appearance as Robin.
The second was “Batman.”15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIzmj8zWxYp
Everything from Jason’s time as Robin onward. Every mission, every sighting—clipped, saved.
The third featured Batman and Robin together.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoZrpDvmIOE
Countless moments—fights, investigations, rescues—painstakingly pasted and preserved. Their everyday partnership, immortalized.
The fourth one was “Nightwing.”
Dick eagerly opened it, only to freeze on the first page.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYFnOElVWK8
Then the second. Then the third.
Every lower half of every photo… had been carefully covered with thick strips of electrical tape, as if someone had gone to great lengths to prevent wardrobe malfunctions—or visual assaults.
The room fell silent again.
Dick finally broke the tension. “...Little Wing, this is just—”
“Wasn’t me,” Jason replied flatly, eyes never leaving his own scrapbook.
He was flipping through page after page—missions, smiles, action shots, the time he accidentally flashed a peace sign at the camera. Not a single day missing.
Someone had been documenting. Not one day skipped.
Whoever did this—had cherished it like they were preserving a life.
Dick still hovered over his own scrapbook, poking at the electrical tape. “But—but this—”
Jason finally looked up. His lips curved—just slightly—into the kind of dry smirk they hadn’t seen in ages.
“Hm. Honestly? The tape fits my vibe,” he said, drawling. “Indecent. Unholy.”
Dick: “…”
Damian scoffed nearby, clearly itching to say something but holding back due to the mood.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtrCz74bBFF
Tim was visibly trying not to laugh.
Then Batman spoke.
He was flipping through his own scrapbook now, page by page, his expression growing darker.
Each entry had been meticulously cataloged—dates, events, even obscure local papers no one else would’ve bothered with.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBbQATs62t7
This wasn’t media coverage.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡElovL4DhF1
It was someone.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJaa9QKMty7
Someone persistent, obsessive, methodical.
“These clippings… they were stored in the manor.”15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcgwj4NeypX
His voice was low and calm. “Jason didn’t compile them. And no one in this house did either.”
He paused, eyes lifting from the page—like he was searching the shadows of the house itself.
“This... could be a problem.”
His brow furrowed.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡelOQNQ5eNg
That instinct honed from decades in Gotham:15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG9qXkLatVK
When something stops making sense, it means there’s something bigger underneath.
Batman’s eyes sharpened.
He would investigate.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh0KTzmBTeX
These memories—these weren’t just photos or headlines.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjtzetEnnup
They were pieces.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0vszlt0dO5
Of someone.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEAdVcAJ3gv
Left behind in the manor—or maybe inside Jason’s life itself.
A clue.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUWYzDrUjct
A forgotten thread.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxBtviopQ7V
A mystery still waiting to be unraveled.
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkQahfTB740
