Chapter 1
Ganke hadn’t ever looked up to Spider-Man, hadn’t had any super powerful memories associated with him. He’d been a man in a suit and mask, unknown to the majority of New York, but loved by an even larger majority. That isn’t to say that he didn’t grieve when Peter Parker’s image circled the news. He’d read all of the comics and—no matter how embellished or censored they were—he knew that Spider-Man was a good person. He just hadn’t looked up to him as much as he looked up to Goldballs, one of the X-men who made him feel good about himself.
Sure, Peter Parker was a good person, but it was hard to look up to somebody who appeared so vanilla to those who didn’t know him. An average man hidden away behind a mask, stopping average crimes.
The only powerful memory Ganke had associated with the old Spider-Man was his face on a billboard and the whole city in mourning.
The new Spider-Man, on the other hand, was inspiring. He was small, he was fast, and there was something about him that caught Ganke’s attention. He wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.
“Hey, dude! See you on Monday!” A voice ripped Ganke out of his thoughts, and he came to just in time to see Spider-Man’s silhouette disappear around a corner, followed by a large yelp and thud.
Interesting.
Similar things happened over the next few months—Ganke would be out on the weekend and something would happen (the store he was in got robbed, some villain decided to choose that date and time to get revenge on something that had happened over a decade ago), followed by Spider-Man seeing him, acknowledging him, and saying that he’d see him soon.
So Ganke kept his eyes open. Who knew him and would see him every Monday? Since he went to Brooklyn Visions Academy, it had to be somebody who would be there—the only time he really left was the weekend, after all. It couldn’t be a teacher, as they were all much too old to be the new Spider-Man. Most, if not all, of them were older than Peter Parker had been.
That left students. Quite frankly, it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize this, but he’d been too caught up on the fact that Spider-Man knows who I am to actually process the fact that, most of the time, knowing somebody was mutual.
It was possible, of course, that it was a case of mistaken identity—but it had happened six times already, and that was a wild enough coincidence as it was.
Ganke couldn’t be wrong with his accusation. If he was wrong, he’d not only make a fool of himself, but possibly put Spider-Man at risk. If he assumed that somebody who hated vigilantes was Spider-Man, it would narrow it down for them, and they could find out his identity.
So he spent the rest of the year attempting to narrow it down. It couldn’t be that hard, right?
He was wrong. He’d severely underestimated the amount of students in his classes, let alone the entire school—it could be somebody that he just passed in the hallway. But then why would they know who he was well enough to slip up and say hi when in costume? He wasn’t that noticeable or unique at their school—just another kid blending into the crowded hallways.
So that narrowed it down considerably. It had to be somebody in his classes, most likely somebody who he spoke to.
The one thing he didn’t take into consideration, of course, was that his roommate wasn’t in any of his classes, and saw him every morning and night, minus the weekend.
That led him on a wild goose chase that lasted months—and it didn’t even end by him realizing that he spoke to people outside of his classes. It ended with Spider-Man launching himself into their dorm room at two in the morning and ripping his mask off, none the wiser to a not-quite-asleep Ganke Lee laying in the lower bunk.
Miles Morales—his roommate, Spider-Man was his roommate—happened to glance down at him, and a tired grin spread across his face. “Sorry; did I wake you up?”
Ganke shook his head slowly, and the next thing he knew, it was morning. If he was being honest, a lot of things made more sense—that one week or so when Miles had done something exceedingly not normal and brushed it off with a “It’s a puberty thing!” as if they weren’t all teenagers who had all gone through or were going through puberty, how he was never in their dorm despite it being one of the only places they could really hang out during the week, and how he seemed to “zoom in” on anything regarding the vigilante.
“Morning!” Miles said brightly—too brightly for somebody who hadn’t even gotten in bed until two in the morning. Sure, Ganke had been reading comics for quite a long time, but he hadn’t stayed up nearly that late, and hadn’t been out fighting crime for several hours.
“Morning,” Ganke replied, studying Miles, who didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned that his roommate had just discovered a relatively large secret about him. “About last night…”
“I did wake you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry—I tried so hard to be quiet—”
“You didn’t wake me up,” Ganke replied. “It’s just—” How should he word this? Miles hadn’t seemed to care that much that Ganke knew his secret—he’d been so nonchalant about it. “Is that the time you normally get back?”
“No,” Miles said, laughing. “I’m normally back by twelve; there was just a lot going on last night—you don’t even want to know.”
Ganke nodded, and finished getting ready. He could deal with this once he’d woken up properly. Until then, his brain was probably just circle around the idea that his roommate, Miles Morales, was Spider-Man, and Ganke would definitely have a lot of memories associated with him.