Morning at Wayne Manor

In the early morning, dim, hazy light spilled across the dining table. The soft clink of glass against silverware sounded especially pleasant, and the tablecloth draped smoothly over the edge. Alfred set down the final dish. Bruce, seated at the head of the table, nodded to him, and the old butler turned and left with a gratified look.

Bruce sat at the head of the long dining table, with Selene across from him. Dick sat to Selene’s right, and Aisha beside Dick. On the surface, it was a harmonious breakfast scene for a family of four. But after Bruce tapped his fork against his goblet to signal that breakfast had begun, things once again descended into chaos.

Most children had a very strange habit: outside mealtimes, they put absolutely everything into their mouths, but when it was actually time to eat, they acted as though they had a vendetta against food and refused to take even one bite.

Fortunately, Aisha had always had an excellent appetite—or perhaps an appetite that was a little too excellent. At any time and in any place, she liked putting everything into her mouth.

With a crunch, a chunk vanished from the plate holding the sandwiches. Dick, who had been drinking water, sprayed it out and coughed twice from choking. He hurriedly turned around and patted Aisha on the back, trying to make her spit out the porcelain shards.

Dick hurriedly wiped his mouth with a napkin, then gestured as he explained, "No, Aisha, that isn’t part of the sandwich! That’s the plate! It’s tableware, understand? You can’t eat it… Wait! Put that cup down!"

With another crunch, Aisha bit a crack into the cup as well. The milk inside spilled all over her. Dick covered his eyes with one hand, then took a towel from Alfred and wiped the stains from her clothes. The old butler had been smiling the whole time, seeming to enjoy the scene immensely.

"Aisha, don’t bite the tableware. Don’t make trouble for Alfred," Bruce said. As Alfred brought over a fresh glass of milk, he said, "Oh, it’s nothing, sir. You knocked over milk several times when you were little too. It’s perfectly normal…"

Bruce opened his mouth. He very much wanted to say that spilling milk and biting a chunk out of a milk glass were two completely different things.

But Aisha’s sharp little teeth were just that formidable. Ceramic plates, glass milk cups, fiber tablecloths, wooden tables—one crunch, and she could bite off a huge piece of any of them.

Dick tried to teach Aisha how to use a fork hand over hand, but the moment she picked it up, she stuffed it into her mouth and bit down with a crunch. The head of the metal fork was bitten clean off. Dick stared wide-eyed as she chewed the metal fork like gum. He looked down at his arm, where the tooth marks had yet to fade, and swallowed.

Aisha spat out the chewed fork. The poor thing had become a tiny, shapeless lump of metal. After Dick threw it away, he asked Alfred for another fork. Just then, Aisha suddenly cried out, "Wah! Wah!!!"

Selene, who had been dozing off, suddenly jolted awake. She rubbed her eyes and said, "Bruce, she’s calling for you…"

Bruce looked at Aisha. She held her arms out to him, so he could only set down his knife and fork, walk over to her seat, and pick her up. Then he asked Selene, "How do you know what she means?"

"Haven’t you noticed that Aisha has been learning to talk lately?"

Selene propped her head up with one hand, looking sleepy because she had gone to bed very late last night. "You weren’t home last night. I was playing with blocks with her when she suddenly started yelling like this. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but then I realized she seemed to be looking for you…"

Bruce held Aisha a little farther away and examined her carefully. Aisha grinned at him with her sharp little teeth, making indistinct "wah wah" sounds. Dick turned around, listened closely, and said, "I think she’s trying to say ‘Papa,’ but she can’t make the ‘P’ sound."

Bruce carried Aisha back to his own seat and sat down, then speared a piece of sandwich with his fork and fed it to her. Aisha took one bite and bit off both the sandwich and the head of the fork. Bruce hurried to make her spit it out, but she chewed twice and swallowed it. Once she was done, she stared at Bruce with wide eyes and an utterly innocent expression.

"Don’t worry, she’s fine." Selene took a sip of juice. "Haven’t you noticed that your daughter has a lot of unusual abilities?"

"…What unusual abilities?"

"Do you think a normal child can run at 120 miles an hour in three seconds? Jump off the third floor without a scratch, then swallow three building blocks and still bounce around like nothing happened?"

"Obviously, Aisha had superpowers."

Bruce stared at Aisha in his arms, but Dick’s eyes lit up. He looked at Bruce and asked, "Superpowers??… Mr. Wayne, Aisha is your biological daughter, so does that mean you also…"

"I don’t," Bruce denied outright. But Dick clearly did not believe him. Children his age yearned endlessly for superpowers that could let them fly through the sky and tunnel into the earth. From the look on Dick’s face, he desperately wanted Bruce to demonstrate taking off from the spot…

After holding Aisha for a while, Bruce stood up again, put her back in her seat, and looked at Dick. "Where have you been running off to lately? Yesterday at noon, I wanted you to come fix the car with me, but Alfred told me you and Aisha had gone out…"

"Oh…" Dick touched his knife and fork awkwardly. "I… I made some new friends."

"New friends? Who are they?"

"Um…" Dick hesitated, seeming unable to say it.

He knew Bruce was no ordinary person, but he still did not know that he was Batman. In his eyes, Bruce was just a super-rich big shot from the South Side. He did not know whether Bruce, like the other wealthy people from the South Side, hated the poor kids from the East Side.

But Dick got along quite well with Jason and the others. On the one hand, they were close in age, and people their age always had more to talk about. On the other hand, his own background was not very good either. The splendor of Wayne Manor made him uncomfortable and somewhat restrained. Jason’s rundown underground base, on the other hand, made him feel more at ease.

But he could not say that to Bruce. His ability to remain in Gotham depended entirely on Bruce, and he knew he did not have Jason’s skills for surviving alone on Gotham’s streets.

After a few days of getting familiar with the city, Dick understood that martial arts alone were not enough to get by in Gotham. Besides, because he was young, his skills were not all that impressive. He lacked real experience in street fights.

Dick was afraid that if he told Bruce, Bruce would make him cut ties with those friends. Dick did not want that, because he found that street life interesting. Not only could it hone his fighting skills, it also let him see all kinds of fascinating things.

For example, just yesterday, the Rolling Heads Gang led by Jason had fought the Red Mouth Gang on Red Mouth Street. These Junior Gangs’ street fights might have been small, but they had everything. They had to gather intelligence beforehand, scout the terrain, prepare weapons, organize manpower, and even divide themselves into different roles. Some kept watch, some fought, and some covered the retreat.

In short, in Gotham’s children’s society, the bloody brutality of adult gangs had been scaled down. Since these children could not get their hands on especially powerful weapons, fights rarely became life-threatening. But the thrill, wildness, and brutal beauty remained, which made it easy for boys Dick’s age to get fired up.

But Dick knew these rich people certainly did not see it that way. They would rather their children learn piano, violin, ballet, etiquette, and things like that.

Just as he thought that, Bruce said to Dick, "Since I’ve adopted you, I have to take responsibility for you. I’ve already spoken with Alfred. Starting tomorrow, you’ll attend that boarding school in the north. It’s the best boarding school in all of Gotham. Whether it’s the facilities or the faculty, it’s among the very best. Its curriculum is extensive too—Latin, ballet, harp, and so on…"

Dick looked at Selene with a plea for help in his eyes. Selene shook her head and made a helpless expression.

Dick sighed. He had originally thought Bruce adopted him just to find a babysitter for his biological daughter, but now it seemed that being hired as a babysitter would have been better.

During this conversation, Bruce finished breakfast. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "I’m going out in a while. I probably won’t be back until tonight. Alfred will prepare lunch and dinner for you."

With that, he left the dining table. Selene stretched, looking somewhat sleepy, then left the table as well and went upstairs to catch up on sleep. Dick sat there and sighed, then picked up Aisha and told her:

"Come on, I’ll take you out to play. In a couple of days, my good days will be over, and you won’t get to see me anymore."

Aisha seemed unable to understand what Dick was worried about. She kept making "wah wah" noises. From the tone and frequency of her cries, it was clear that she was trying very hard to imitate human language.

Dick simply began teaching her. "’Papa.’ You pronounce it like this. Press your lips together, then make a soft ‘P’ sound…"

"This word means father. That’s Mr. Wayne. He’s your father, so you should call him ‘Papa.’ But when you’re a little older, you should call him Dad or Father."

"This is a word children use, but all these words mean father. One is a babyish spoken term, one is an everyday spoken term, and one is a formal written term. The words for grandfather and grandmother work the same way…"

Aisha, who had just been practicing her pronunciation nonstop, froze on the spot.

Language itself was a function unique to creatures of order. Creatures of chaos had no need for such things. They were born unique, with no group, no need to communicate, and no need to understand one another. They were born from chaos and would ultimately return to chaos. Nothing logical would ever appear in their world.

And when a creature of chaos suddenly transformed into a creature of order, merely understanding why language existed was difficult enough. Learning pronunciation, tones, words, and grammar was even harder than climbing to the heavens.

The Parallax Monster, transformed into a little girl, had not yet figured out how to pronounce even the simplest word when Dick told her that there were infinitely many more words waiting for her to learn. It was enough to give a monster a headache.

Not wanting to listen to Dick ramble anymore, Aisha broke free from his arms and ran outside. The moment she reached the lawn, she sensed a somewhat familiar power approaching.

Aisha froze for a moment and looked up at the sky. Vaguely, she saw a yellow figure and a green figure colliding.

She worked her brain hard for a moment, then swung her short little legs and pattered back into the house, bumping straight into Dick, who had just been about to chase after her.

Aisha waved her arms and cried at him, but Dick could not understand what she was trying to say. Imitating Dick, Aisha covered her forehead in frustration.

She kept going, "Ah, ah, ah," as though she were only one step away from being able to make that sound.