After leaving the old gym, Hawk made his way toward the parking lot.
He had no idea what had just happened behind him.
Not that it would've mattered if he did.
Even though Spider-Man was hailed as the most iconic character in American comics, to be honest, Hawk didn't know Peter Parker personally.
They were in the same grade, but that was about it.
By the time Hawk, slinging his shoulder bag, arrived at the parking lot, the last orange school bus had already opened its doors.
A burly driver with a thick beard, dressed in a school maintenance uniform, was leaning lazily over the steering wheel, fiddling with a portable radio.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hall," Hawk said as he stepped aboard, polite as always. "Anything interesting in the news today?"
Mr. Hall, despite his intimidating appearance, wasn't actually as fierce as he looked.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
He was a good man.
"Still the story about the Quantico building collapse," Mr. Hall replied, glancing at the time on his watch. "They're saying it might have been a terrorist attack. Hawk, you're two minutes later than yesterday."
Hawk shrugged. "Sorry, got held up taking a shower."
"Good thing I know you take this route home every day. Otherwise, I would've pulled off toward the main gate already. Take a seat we're heading out."
"Sure," Hawk said with a nod, then walked toward the back of the bus, still carrying his bag.
Mr. Hall started the engine and moved to close the doors, preparing to drive to the front of the school for any stragglers.
That's when Peter Parker came sprinting into view.
Just as the doors were about to shut, Peter squeezed through the gap, panting heavily as he stumbled inside.
Mr. Hall was startled. "Holy sh—"
He caught himself mid-sentence, clearly trying to avoid swearing in front of a student. His eyes flicked from the breathless Peter to the four boys approaching from behind Flash Thompson and his usual crew.
Flash and his lackeys didn't get on the bus. They stopped just outside the doors, glaring at Peter.
Mr. Hall looked between Peter and Flash, then frowned. "You guys getting on or not?"
Flash stared at him for a second but said nothing. Instead, he turned around and walked off with his crew, looking disgruntled.
Bullying a classmate was one thing. Doing it in front of school staff was another.
Flash might've been a jerk, but he wasn't an idiot.
Peter, of course, wasn't stupid either. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he turned to Mr. Hall and said, "Thanks."
Mr. Hall gave him a look but didn't reply. He knew exactly what was going on, but as long as nothing happened on his bus, it wasn't his business.
Whatever happened elsewhere wasn't his concern. He was just the driver.
Peter stayed quiet after that and began looking for a seat. That's when he spotted Hawk sitting by the window in the back row. He hesitated, then walked over.
"Thanks."
Hawk, lost in thought as he gazed out the window, blinked and looked up. His expression was blank.
"I didn't help you," he said flatly. "No need to thank me."
With that, he turned his attention back to the window, ending the conversation.
He wasn't sure if Peter had been bitten by the spider yet.
Most likely not.
But even if Peter had already started mutating into the person he'd become in Hawk's memories, Hawk had no intention of getting involved.
To be more accurate, he didn't want to get involved with any superheroes.
They might sound glamorous, but in reality, they were magnets for chaos and disaster.
Back when he didn't have a system, Hawk had no intention of ever getting close to any of them. His only goal was to survive. Reborn into this world, he at least wanted to live long enough to die of natural causes.
Ideally, he'd study hard, stay out of trouble, and try to enjoy life a little more.
Now that he had a system, those goals hadn't changed.
The only difference was that "enjoy life a little" had become "live longer and enjoy life a little more."
But in either case, it all boiled down to one rule:
Stay out of superhero business.
So even after enrolling and learning about Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy, Hawk made no effort to befriend them.
Gwen was a different story, though.
Not that he was interested in her romantically.
She just happened to be their eleventh-grade student assistant.
As for dating the so-called "first girlfriend of American comics"? That wasn't even on Hawk's radar. At least not now.
He wasn't qualified to think about love yet.
Peter stood there, wanting to say more, but when he saw Hawk looking back out the window again, he thought better of it. In the end, he turned and sat in the row beside him.
Soon after, the bus pulled up to the school's front gate. Other students waiting for the final ride home started boarding, and the quiet inside the vehicle quickly gave way to chattering voices.
An hour later, they arrived at Jackson Heights.
Mr. Hall opened the doors and smiled at Hawk, who was already standing at the front.
"See you tomorrow, Hawk."
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Hall."
Hawk got off the bus and headed toward an old five-story apartment building with weathered orange brick walls just a short walk away.
The building was owned by the city's housing authority.
His apartment was on the top floor. It wasn't very big, but it had one perk: he could easily access the rooftop via the fire escape outside his window.
After getting home, Hawk set his bag on the table, pulled out a plastic bag of freshly laundered clothes, grabbed a couple of hangers, and climbed out the window onto the fire escape, making his way up to the rooftop.
Once he'd hung up his clothes, he walked over to the railing, resting both hands on it as he looked up at the sky. Planes passed overhead, either preparing to land at or departing from LaGuardia Airport nearby.
He let the summer wind wash over him as he counted airplanes.
It was one of his few ways to unwind.
Lately, though, he'd picked up a new habit.
Stargazing.
As night fell, Hawk sat with his back against the apartment's rooftop ventilation shaft, enjoying the cool air as he stared up at the heavens.
The sky was vast, glittering with stars.
And perhaps it was his imagination, but ever since he started punching ten thousand times a day, every day for nearly three years, he felt more and more connected to that endless cosmos.
Tonight, that feeling was stronger than ever.
The constellations that had appeared hazy to the naked eye just the night before now shone with surprising clarity.
Pegasus.
Dragon.
Cygnus.
Andromeda.
Phoenix.
And even…
Scutum.
All forty-eight constellations that represented the Bronze Saints seemed to shine brighter now, each one vivid in Hawk's eyes.
It was as if…
Tonight, the entire universe was shimmering for him.