Tim felt like he couldn't keep the story going much longer. The excuses were starting to pile up like bad alibis, and every additional detail only made the whole thing sound more suspicious. If he kept talking, he was sure he'd end up contradicting himself.
"That's because… I initially thought you might also be recruited by the training class, so I told you."
"Oh~ Really?"
Daren asked suspiciously, tilting his head just enough to make Tim feel the weight of the stare. It wasn't an aggressive look, but it was sharp, the kind that made people instinctively want to explain themselves better even when they already had.
"Really."
Tim nodded, trying to keep his expression earnest. He could practically feel the sweat bead at the back of his neck, and he resisted the urge to wipe his palms against his pants.
"So, what you're saying is that your training class didn't take a liking to me in the end, which is why I wasn't recruited. What exactly do you guys train in anyway?"
"Oh, why do you have to ask so clearly? It's confidential. Stop asking, I can't tell you."
Tim said helplessly, spreading his hands in a classic "don't shoot the messenger" gesture. His voice came out steadier than he felt inside.
"Fine, look at how troubled you are. You're acting like I'm conducting an interrogation. If you won't say, you won't say."
Daren waved his hand dismissively, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, clearly enjoying watching Tim squirm just a little.
The classroom around them was slowly filling up — the usual morning chaos of backpacks thudding onto desks, friends greeting each other, the scrape of chair legs on the floor.
Somewhere near the window, someone was laughing too loudly. The bell would ring any minute now, but neither boy seemed in a hurry to end the conversation.
The momentary noise gave Tim a small sense of relief. At least the room's bustle made his nervousness less obvious.
"Daren, do you have time this weekend?"
At that moment, Tim suddenly spoke up.
The jump in topic was so abrupt that Daren blinked, caught off guard.
"…What do you want?"
Daren asked back, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Just say whether you're free or not."
"You tell me what we're doing first, then I'll decide if I have time."
Tim looked at Daren speechlessly for a second, then sighed, pushing his chair back a fraction.
"I want to thank you for covering for me yesterday, so I'm planning to treat you to a meal. My father also says that I'm always running over to your house to play but rarely see you at our place. He's been asking me when I'm going to invite you over. It's that simple."
Daren studied Tim's face for a long moment, searching for any telltale sign of a deeper motive. But Tim's expression was open, almost earnest — the same look he'd worn since they were kids whenever he was trying (and failing) to hide something small.
"If that's the case, then I do have time. Come to think of it, it has indeed been a while since I've seen Uncle Jack. I should pay a visit."
Daren nodded understandingly, his tone softening.
Tim's father, Jack, had helped Daren a lot when he was a child. All the matters that a minor had no right to handle independently — paperwork, school permissions, even the occasional emergency call when Daren's guardian was unavailable — Jack had stepped in without hesitation. He was almost like half a guardian to Daren, the kind of adult who never made a big deal out of doing the right thing.
"Ha! Then it's a deal!"
Tim finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Just then, he suddenly remembered something and added, almost casually,
"Right, I might have a few friends coming that day as well. Do you mind if they join us for the dinner?"
This casual sentence fell into Daren's ears and instantly stirred up a ripple in his heart.
Ah...?
Tim's friends.
And friends close enough to have dinner together at home.
Besides Daren, his childhood friend, could there possibly be any?
With Tim's daily free time being spent either honing his skills in the Batcave or running off to fight crime as Robin, where would he have the time to make normal, everyday friends?
But he said there would be other friends coming.
So who could these few friends possibly be? The more Daren thought about it, the more it felt strange.
Unless Tim had paid to hire a few people to act as friends to prove to his parents that he wasn't socially anxious — but that possibility was far too low, even for Gotham's weirdest standards.
Don't tell me.. could this be a 'Hongmen Banquet'? Intentionally waiting until after I agreed to mention that friends are coming…
Tim, you rascal, are you setting a trap for me?
Daren sucked in a breath of cold air, the thought flashing through his mind like a warning light.
Although he was very certain he hadn't left any flaws at Miller Port yesterday — the smoke, the decoys, the careful timing — and although Tim had no logical reason to suspect him regardless, the Bat-family's traditional "virtues" came to mind: paranoia, contingency plans, and an uncanny ability to sniff out secrets.
If this dinner really involved people like Bruce or Alfred, then even a harmless invitation could turn into a subtle interrogation.
At this point, backing out would likely only increase suspicion. It would be too stupid to go looking for trouble when there was none.
Anyway, no matter what, I won't leave any evidence on me.
Even if they plan to lure me away and search my house while I'm at the banquet, they won't find any traces related to Kaitou Kid, because there are none in my house to begin with.
Daren made up his mind, steeling himself internally.
Let them try. I'm ready for whatever comes next.
Whatever move they make, I'll already have an answer.
Why? 'Cause I AM BATMA—ehm, just kidding~
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