"Peter..."
The mature, elegant version of M.J. stepped down from the stage, still staring at the boy in front of her in complete disbelief.
That face was simply too familiar.
Aside from the difference in hair color, she could tell with absolute certainty that he was Peter Parker.
Peter turned around, casually wiping the blood from his blade with a handkerchief, his expression a little complicated as he looked at her.
In a sense, the beautiful, sexy woman standing before him really was the one who would have become his wife in this world.
But he was not that Peter.
Besides, the one he liked was Gwen. To him, Mary Jane was just someone he had grown up with, one of the guys.
Yes, you read that right.
And no, Peter was not mistaken.
He genuinely had never thought of her that way.
"Hi, Mary Jane. This is probably going to sound strange, but I'm really not making this up. Yes, I'm Peter. Peter Parker. But not the Peter from your world. Your world is in 2018. I'm from 2023 in my own universe, and I'm only seventeen. I go to Midtown High. My birthday is August tenth, and M.J. has been my neighbor since we were six..."
Like every other Peter Parker, this Peter suffered from the same chronic problem.
Once he started explaining something, he just kept going, talking endlessly and expanding into side topics without even realizing it. It always made him seem all over the place.
And half the time, even he did not know what he was trying to say anymore.
But whatever.
As long as his mouth kept moving, he felt better.
"Peter, your habit of talking way too much really hasn't changed at all..."
Tears welled in Mary Jane's eyes, but she still laughed through them.
Looking at this boy who felt both familiar and impossibly distant, her thoughts were dragged straight back to their high school days.
Back then, everything had been carefree.
She had liked Peter, but she had not been the only one. Gwen Stacy had been a strong rival too. Peter had wavered between the two of them for a long time, and in the end, the balance had tipped in her favor.
She and Peter had ended up together.
"Alright, I can tell you didn't actually absorb any of that."
Peter shrugged helplessly.
"But, Mary Jane, I have to admit it. You're really beautiful."
At twenty-six, Mary Jane had a slim figure, graceful curves, and the kind of mature charm that could make anyone look twice. Peter had to admit, on a purely instinctive level, he had thoughts.
But that was just basic male nature.
And besides, men did not only think with their lower halves.
Peter definitely was not that kind of person.
"Hey, pal, that combo you just used was pretty great. Did you design that weapon yourself?"
The moment Peter heard that familiar voice, he knew exactly who had arrived.
Spider-Man Noir.
At that moment, Noir was hanging upside down from the railing, looking at Peter with obvious excitement in his tone.
But then he noticed Mary Jane standing nearby, his expression shifting as he pulled off his mask.
"Hi, Mary Jane..."
"Two Peters... and one of them is black and white..."
Mary Jane covered her mouth in shock.
Yesterday, she had lost one Peter.
And today, a black-and-white version and a teenage version had both appeared in front of her.
She suddenly felt like the whole world had gone mad.
"I knew it. My visual style really doesn't fit with yours."
Dropping down to the ground, Noir Peter dusted off his coat and, completely uninvited, threw an arm over Peter's shoulder. Then he looked at Mary Jane with a complicated gaze and said,
"I'm sorry, Mary Jane. Forgive me. I was always so focused on being Spider-Man that I never paid enough attention to your feelings. In the end, I couldn't even save you."
"Peter..."
"Alright, you two, if you don't want rumors exploding all over the city in the next ten minutes, I think we should change locations."
Peter pulled his mask back on and pointed toward the stunned crowd around them.
"Then let's go see Aunt May," Noir Spider-Man said immediately, before shooting out a web line and taking off first.
"Hey! Running that fast because you're too embarrassed to face people?!"
Peter yelled after him, then turned awkwardly toward Mary Jane.
"So... maybe you should just take a cab home?"
"No. I want you to swing me there. It's been a long time since I've done that."
Mary Jane said it without hesitation.
Peter scratched his head.
"Well... how do I put this..."
"In my world, you're my best friend Harry's girlfriend, and in this world, you're basically my fiancée. Carrying you around just feels weird."
"In your world, I didn't end up with you?"
"Don't say it like that. I've always treated you like one of the guys."
"You like Gwen, don't you?"
"Yeah..."
"Hmph. Then I'll go by myself. You and your teenage Peter self can both go to hell."
Mary Jane turned around like a sulking, heartbroken woman, but did not actually take a single step.
Seeing that, Peter let out a helpless sigh.
What a mess.
Fine.
She was not the M.J. from his world anyway.
If he had to carry her, then he would carry her.
This world's Peter better not blame me for this.
With that thought, Peter stepped forward, wrapped an arm firmly around Mary Jane's narrow waist, ignored the startled look on her face, fired a web line, and swung off in the direction Noir Spider-Man had gone.
"Hey, don't hold on so tight. It messes with my movements!"
"I'm afraid of heights."
"What a troublesome woman..."
"Say that again. Go on, say it again and see what happens..."
"What, are you going to hit me with your baseball bat again? That's probably one of the reasons I never really thought of you as a woman."
The two of them bickered in midair while the Spider-Men left behind on the street stood there completely stunned.
How did one dead Spider-Man suddenly turn into two Spider-Men?
And Mary Jane Watson, are you sure this is how someone acts right after losing her fiancé?
Because this really did not look like it.
What exactly was dead Peter Parker supposed to think about all this?
Ultimate Spider-Man, sleeping peacefully in his grave: I'll just keep lying here and think about it, then...
After turning corner after corner, the three of them finally reached their destination.
But outside the detached house stood a huge crowd.
Some had come to mourn. Some were reporters. Some were just there to see the spectacle.
The most striking among them was an elderly woman, probably in her fifties, her hair already streaked with white. Her face showed how heartbroken she was, but she still held back her tears while dealing with the reporters.
Looking at her like that, Peter could not help feeling a sting in his chest.
In this universe, Aunt May had not only lost her husband.
She had also lost her only nephew.
She really was alone now.
And then, at that exact moment, a long black Lincoln rolled up to the curb.
A man stepped out of it, his head thick and round like a slab of meat.
It was Fisk.
The infamous Kingpin.
(End of Chapter)
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