ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴇꜱᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

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The classroom was the same as ever; the dolled-up girl in the front with her expensive pearl earrings that matched her $500 dollar Gucci phone case was not-so-subtlely texting her manservant to bring her sushi straight from Japan by lunchtime. Again. The boy adjacent to her was clicking random inputs into his calculator and making appropriate beep-boop-beeeeeooop noises. However, neither of them could hold a candle to the student in the back of the classroom in the corner. Their gender, he couldn't be sure, but he did know that they have since shed one of their shoes and had been picking flakes of their dead skin off of the sole of their foot for the past hour and a half and collecting a small pile on their desk.

The bell rang out, and Vin let out a sigh of relief, wasting no time throwing his bag over his shoulder and only half-listening as his teacher assigned them the next chapter to read from the book he had already finished when Mrs. Pio first gave it to him a week ago. Don't mistake him for an overachiever; no, it was best to get distractions out of the way so he could take part in what he really enjoyed.

After a quick stop at the cafeteria, picking up a modest sandwich instead of the luxurious steak and baked potato on offer, he treaded his way through the school's courtyard. He stopped at the base of the giant, ancient oak tree in the heart of the area and stuffed the sandwich between his lips to allow both hands to help him climb up the gnarled bark. He tossed his bag first onto the thick, twisting branch he favored and followed shortly after. He sighed in contentment as he leaned against the base, resting his legs outward on the stem, and took a bite of his turkey and cheese. After a second thought, he rummaged through his belongings and pulled out an apple juice he had packed this morning.

He observed the courtyard from his vantage point and took the time to count how many rose bushes the gardener had newly planted. The man seemed to favor the darker shades of the flower from what he could see.

"Heh, just like the rest of Gotham." He chuckled to himself. "Always seeing the darker side of things." He shook his head and sipped his apple juice and chewed absently on the plastic straw as the sweet drink ran out. He always liked escaping to his little slice di paradiso. It was quiet and beautiful in an unimposing way. Something to be cherished when you were otherwise surrounded by posturing entities drenched in French perfume or a truckload of Old Spice, scantily unbuttoned shirts, hiked-up skirts, and general ruination of the school dress code.

Vin relaxed slowly as the minutes pass and let his eyes flutter shut, simply taking in the birds chirping. He's honestly surprised that there is any kind of fauna still alive in Gotham (there's plenty of flora, thanks to Poison Ivy), but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He silently laments that there can't be more moments like this, especially with his-

"MR. BERTINELLI!"

Vin jumped and choked as the chewed-up straw went too far back into his throat at his sharp intake. After removing the offending object from his oropharynx, he coughed quietly and cleared his throat. Leaning over the branch, he saw three pairs of eyes looking back up. Two of them were blank and somewhat confused, and one very, very displeased.

"Uh, buongiorno, Headmaster Hammerhead- I mean, Hammer!" Vin corrected quickly. He wanted to smack himself and ordained himself not to make the headmaster any more livid, hurriedly snatching his bag by the strap and climbing down. He hopped onto the ground and wiped some lingering pieces of wood and leaf stems off of his uniform. He stood in front of his school's angry overlord and the two dark-haired males, one an adult, the other looking about his age. Hammerhead turned to the older black-haired male, and his meter switched to pleasant so swiftly that it gave him whiplash.

"Mr. Wayne, I apologize for this- you see, this school delivers when it comes to well-behaved young ladies and gentlemen, but Mr. Bertinelli here-" He gestured to Vin with a look something akin to a highly unpleasant bug stuck to the bottom of his Oxfords. "-is an outlier, a free spirit if you will." He scoffed and shook his head.

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