Anyone!!! Help me!!!
HELP!
ME!
Chicken roasted on the table!!!
Do something, I beg of you!
[Chicken be like: Try facing that one girl who showed a fried chicken leg to my kind, then we'll talk.]
Fuck you, roasted chicken!
Fuck you too, handsome nerd!
Double fuck you!
Triple dead fuck you with them diddy oils!!!
I clenched my fists and leaned closer, glaring daggers at the roasted bird, when—
"Ummm, Peter? Why are you staring at the chicken with deadly glares?"
I snapped back to reality, blinking rapidly, when Gwen's voice broke through. She tilted her head, her brother's eyes narrowing with suspicion as he pressed on with his question—whether I liked Gwen as a girl.
"Yes, Peter," Gwen's voice carried the weight of curiosity, and then—her father's eyes bore into me, demanding answers I wasn't ready to give. My stomach twisted.
Oh man, her dad really wants to know. The weight of his gaze pressed down like judgment itself. I could hear Astronomia—the damn coffin dance meme—ringing in my head, mocking me.
Come on, it's just a question. Your mind is fifty years old, goddammit! Yet you're stuck in the body of your good ol' fifteen-year-old self.
I rubbed the back of my neck, words choking in my throat. My leg bounced under the table.
"Well… umm… Gwen… is… Gwen is… umm…"
Ding Dong!
The doorbell rang, and my soul was freed.
"Thank God," I muttered under my breath, nearly collapsing with relief. Saved by the bell—literally. But my curiosity tugged. Who could it be at this timing?
Gwen's dad stood, his chair scraping the floor. He adjusted his jacket with that authoritative NYPD aura and said, "I got it, Helen. I invited her. She's just transferred here about two years back. She's gonna be Vice-Captain."
I sat up straighter. Of course—Captain Stacy never let small details slip. But my chest tightened. Who could it be?
The front door creaked open.
"Ohayo gozaimasu…"
No.
No, it couldn't be.
I turned my head slowly, like the room itself had frozen. My breath caught. And there she was—Yuri Watanabe.
Her presence alone filled the entryway. Dark hair neatly tied, sharp eyes sweeping across the room like a blade. A figure of discipline and danger wrapped in a crisp uniform.
She was Japanese-American by birth but had grown up in Japan, hardened by years of relentless police work.
At twenty, she had already made her name as one of the best officers in Tokyo. By thirty-three, she had been transferred to America—her legend trailing behind her like a shadow.
"Yuri…"
Her name slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, mumbled beneath my breath. My chest ached with familiarity. Of course I knew Yuri.
She wasn't just another cop. She was my only real police friend. My best bud, to be precise.
And now—she was standing in Gwen's living room.
She took her seat—of course, right next to me. Nice going, Gwen's dad. Putting me against the oni demoness herself.
Honestly, as Spider-Man, I know Yuri well enough: kind, strong, no-nonsense, and absolutely terrible with jokes. She never really liked my quips back when we worked together.
"Ah, the good ol' times," I muttered under my breath, staring at the roasted chicken like it might save me from this pressure.
Her sharp eyes flicked toward me. "Good ol' timeszu?" she asked, brow arched.
Dang it.
"Yeah, Peter," Gwen cut in, leaning forward with suspicion. "What good old times? Have you met Ms. Watanabe before?"
I swallowed hard, forcing a crooked smile. "No, no… I just… heard she's a legend in Japan. Always wanted to go there, you know?"
In Japanese, Yuri's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Hai… these American little boys always fail big time trying to impress the captain by cozying up to his daughter."
Really, Yuri? Right in front of me on our first meeting? Fine. You asked for it.
I leaned back slightly, smirking. In flawless Japanese, I shot back, "Really? Does everybody just pick on the kid with glasses?"
Her eyes widened, genuine surprise flashing across her face. That reaction alone was worth it.
Of course, she didn't know the truth—I'd learned Japanese from her in my past life. Afterward, I even took up an advanced language class, but honestly? No teacher matched Yuri's intensity.
"Your Japanese is good, kid," Yuri admitted, a note of respect slipping through her voice.
"Yeah, Peter, even I'm surprised." Gwen's eyes went wide, only to be undercut when Arthur leaned forward with a mischievous grin.
"Ooo… Gwen's red as a tomato," he teased.
"You little brat!" Gwen snapped, cheeks glowing as she reached across the table, trying to pinch him.
Yuri only shook her head, sighing with a soft chuckle. She turned back to me, extending her hand in a formal gesture.
"Ore wa Watanabe Yuri. Yuri desu yo."
I straightened in my seat, taking her hand firmly. "Peter desu. Peter Parker."
Her lips curved into a sly grin. "I guess I have to call you Peter-chan?"
"Pfft—!!! Ahahaha… Peter-chan!!!!" Gwen burst out, slamming the table as laughter shook her shoulders. "Ahahaha, I can't—Puha! Ha! Ha!!!"
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Laugh all you want, Gwen. Really… laugh all you want, real profesionalism there."
After dinner, Gwen tugged me by the hand and pulled me up to the rooftop. Together, we gazed at New York City, the lights stretching endlessly like stars scattered across the earth.
"Finally, just you and me, Petey. Alone."
Gwen smiled, that smile that always brought me joy. And yet, behind it, I remembered the last time—the way I had failed to save her from the hands of the Green Goblin.
She never knew my identity, not until the very end. I tried to take my mask off as she lay dying, but she stopped me, whispering with her last breath:
"Don't, Spidey. I know…"
I never forgot that day. I never forgave myself. And though I raged against Norman Osborn, I couldn't bring myself to hate him entirely. He was a victim too—trapped by the Goblin, broken by his own illness, torn apart by a split mind.
"Earth to Peter…"
I blinked and came back to my senses, finding Gwen climbing higher onto the roof, trying to get a better view of the skyline. I quickly followed, reaching to steady her—
But then she slipped.
My heart stopped.
"GWEN!!!"
I lunged forward, grabbing her before she fell, pulling her tight into my arms. My chest heaved, my grip trembling. I couldn't bear it. Not again. Not this time.
"Peter, you can let go now?" she said softly.
"Oh—umm, sorry…" I muttered, loosening my hold, though my hands lingered longer than they should.
She tilted her head, studying me with those sharp, caring eyes.
"You've been acting different,"
Gwen said, stepping closer.
"Peter… we've been together ever since we were paired as lab partners in our first year at Midtown High. Hell, it's been three years already. We've done a lot together."
Her hand reached up, brushing my messy hair back, her touch gentle, grounding. She had always been there for me—not for Spider-Man, but for both sides of me. Peter Parker and Spider-Man.
And I loved her. God, I loved her so much.
"Honestly,"
Gwen continued with a quiet laugh,
"time flies so fast. But I've wanted to ask you this one question ever since you… changed. Ever since that day at the bus stop."
Her smile faded into something more serious, more fragile. Then she asked:
"What's going on? What's on your mind?"
I froze. My throat dried up. I wanted to tell her. I needed to. But the weight of the truth pressed down like chains.
"I…"
What happens if I say it? She's strong, I know that. She's stood with me against Electro, against Dr. Connors and his lizard rampage. She would understand. She would…
But then it slipped out before I could stop myself.
"I'm… from the future...?"
…
...
...…
Nice. Real nice.
You blew it, me.
Everyone in the comment section of this novel, give a round of applause for my stupidity in revealing my rebirth.
Nice job, me. Really. Nice job.
Gwen sighed, shaking her head, a small frown tugging her lips as if dissapointment.
"And here I thought you'd be more open. Let's head back inside."
She turned to leave, and my chest ached. No. No, not this time. This wasn't going to be another regret. Not another goodbye.
Come on, Pete. Don't let her go. Not again.
Twip!
"Ah?!" Gwen gasped as the webline snapped out, pulling her back.
Zip!
I tugged her close. Her eyes widened, shock and realization written all over her face.
"Ha… ha… ha… ha. You—?!"
"Shut up…" I whispered.
And I kissed her.
I silenced her doubts, her questions, her fears. I kissed her with everything I had, everything I had lost before.
She didn't pull away. Not even for a second.
Instead, Gwen's arms wrapped tightly around my neck, pulling me deeper into the embrace. She kissed me back, dearly, desperately, like she never wanted to let go.
"Peter…" she whispered against my lips.
"Shh… shh… don't stop… don't stop…" I breathed, our words muffled between the heat of our kiss.
The city lights glowed brighter around us. Snowflakes drifted down in soft silence. The world faded until it was only us—two souls bound together.
Birds tucked themselves into their nests, sheltering their eggs, preparing for new life. I locked my arms around Gwen's waist, holding her as though she was the only thing keeping me alive.
We pressed our foreheads together, breath mingling in the cold air, eyes closed in perfect stillness.
"Tell me about this future thing, Peter…" she whispered at last.
And I held her closer, heart steady, voice low.
"From the beginning…"
---
Chapter 8 — End.