Chapter 10: A stormy day(1)

Heylel had to admit, for all the has she had espoused over the schooling system over the years—it felt nice to be back in it. She was a ninth grader and the classes though troublesome were easy, the homework though somewhat mindless was quick to solve. 

This left her free time, time which would spend bonding with Barbara—learning computers and learning self-defence from Damian. Tim had moved to his apartment in the city and Todd was regularly out of the manor so, she wasn't spoiled for choice there. 

[A/N: No batwoman or batgirl in this fic, sorry.] 

Still, as Heylel looked out the school window at the raindrops banging at the tempted glass, she felt her mood shift and slither in its infinitely big and complex swings, she was stuck here, Alfred had said they would pick her up when the storm calms down. So, here she was—waiting.

"Mira!" Dina spoke up to her friend who was just beside her, they were in class, not the best of places to waste an afternoon, not the worst of places. In her hands was her smartphone, a new modal no doubt, which she had shoved in Mira's face. 

On it was a stupid fashion dress, "Beautiful right?" This girl Dina Maybell was not so much asking her opinion but rather demanding an agreement, "Yeah it is," and like always Heylel gave it. She didn't give to anybody only those who were useful and this girl was loads of useful. An heiress, a proper one, her parents had yet to start her training but they would soon, so now was the time to get close. 

"It would suit you," Mira added, "But you'd've to wait till yr old enough," It is a simple bit of compliment, very good on kids. As they were talking a message rang over Dina's top bar, she turned and slid her drawing book and crayons back into her bag, "Sorry mom's here, some emergency. Bye! Mira!" And so she ran. Leaving Mira alone in the dingy room, though it was her fault she was stuck there, who had told her to volunteer for an arts and craft project just to suck up the teacher? No one. She could have been home before the storm materialized out of nowhere—given the world, she was in, it was probably someone's stupid plan for world domination or something—playing or doing anything remotely stimulating. 

Still, board as she was, she moved to fish out her phone from her bag, a Wayne Tech product, a proud 'W' on the back of it with a slick bland and white texturing and bleeding edge hardware, this was the most expensive phone money could buy and now it sat in her hand. 

Pattern unlocking the thing open the first thing that happened was a sling of messages. 

Father: Keep clear of the storm. 

Me: Yes. 

Barbara: I am at the clock tower, come over after the storm. 

Me: Yes. Assuming it does. 

Damian: Should have just come home with me. 

Me: Yes. 

"Ah bollocks," She muttered as she heaved another sigh, taking herself out of the deserted classroom, she peered through the halls, janitors, some teachers talking, things you'd find in a normal school, and though this was an elite school it was still a school.

Many landmarks of Gotham were converted from something else, the hospital was an old manor with more bedrooms than anyone knew what to do with, a bit of renovation, remodelling, plumbing, and viola, a hospital. Another example? Arkham Asylum—probably the single most famous example in the USA. 

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There was someone in almost every other class, most of whom she recognized, they were after all mostly involved in after-school activities and so many waves were returned as they took notice of the lone girl walking through the tiled wide hallways. 

Walking past the staff room a few words managed to stumble out the closed doors of the room, "The Joker's loose again," it made her feet stop, "His girlfriend too," another added, "The dogs should just be euthanized," A common view she had to admit, "Agreed, but no! He's insane, we can not kill insane mass murders now can we?" The sarcasm was thick in this one, "Ever wonder why Batman doesn't just do it? He would be a hero—well more than he is now anyway." She could almost feel herself break into a nod but she kept it still, not her problem, "Obviously cuz them Batman would be a criminal like the rest of them." 

It was weird for her to hear, as someone for whom Batman was just a character she only saw his no-kill rule as a medium for authors to write stories, some of which were damn well great. But now, having spent years here—why? Why does Batman not kill? Euthanize the Joker as they said? 

One by one, theories started to pop into her head but were soon squashed down by a single fact, she lives with f*king Batman, so why not just ask him personally? 

Still, it would have to wait for her to reach home, for even to the Billionaire Playboy, he had work to do. And between the company and being the Bat, he had hardly the time to talk over the phone or chat—Heylel preferring the former over the latter. 

——— 

—— 

— 

(P.O.V-Heylel) 

My hands smoothed over the slinky guard rails lining the stairways, which spiralled down to the floor below. 

On the floor, my eyes found a set of boys, two slightly chubby ones, a couple of lean kids and a single stick figure playing a sort of game, 'stop', in the hallways. A good way to mitigate boredom, maybe I could join them? Nah, too lazy.

Another flight down, I was on the ground floor, and in my view, came the man on a walking stick, "Principal Hammerhead, good afternoon sir." 

"Ah, Miss," He said as he turned, "There is hardly anything good about this afternoon," Okay, I mean I don't disagree but no need to tell a nine-year-old that right? 

"Why though?" I spoke with practised innocence dripping from my voice. 

"Care to join me for a game of chess?" 

[A/N: Questions about this fanfic are welcome and so is feedback. 

Another few commonly asked (on webnovel) questions are, "Is this Yuri?" And the answer is No(check the tags). Will there be romance or yuri for the MC? Depends upon demand but not any planned stuff.]

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