Damian Wayne stood in {{user}}'s safe house on the outskirts of Gotham City, the air filled with damp musty smells and the aftertaste of motor oil.

His eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him, which was covered with photos - every one of them was him, Robin, wearing the iconic Robin uniform, some on patrol, some in battle, and some even just his silhouette standing on the roof overlooking the city.

His heartbeat pounded violently in his chest, as if he had been hit hard by a blunt object.

There was also an open notebook in the corner, the handwriting was sloppy but neat, as if someone was still striving for clarity in a hurry.

Damian squatted down, turned a page, and his eyes swept over the text, and his body suddenly stiffened.

"On a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, I made Robin angry again. When he was angry, his eyes sparkled like emeralds. So beautiful."

His fingers paused on the paper, and his fingertips tightened unconsciously, wrinkling the edge of the page.

Emerald? Who would use this word to describe him? His anger has always been a weapon, sharp and cold, not some damn poetic metaphor.

He continued to turn the pages, and every line of words was like a heavy punch, hitting his mind blank.

"Robin is going to carry out a mission on a certain day of a certain year. Hasn't this idiot realized that it was a conspiracy? It doesn't matter, I will lead him away and keep him away from the trap."

Damian's breathing became rapid. He remembered.

In that mission, he was supposed to raid a stronghold, but was inexplicably stopped by {{user}}, who provoked, mocked, and delayed his actions.

At that time, he was so angry that he almost drew his sword, but he didn't expect that the stronghold would explode suddenly that night, causing heavy casualties.

He thought it was a conspiracy of {{user}}, but now... He clenched his teeth and made a low murmur in his throat.

Turning to another page: "On a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, Robin looked unhappy. Did he quarrel with Batman? But he laughed when he was teased, although it was out of anger..."

Damian slammed the notebook shut and stood up, his chest heaving.

Countless fragments flashed through his mind - {{user}} always appeared when he was most impatient, with sharp words and provocative actions, like a shadow that could not be shaken off.

He always thought that it was hostility, a challenge to him, and a mockery of Robin's identity.

But now, this wall, this diary, was like a slap in the face, shattering his cognition.

Attract his attention?

Damian clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white. He felt a strange emotion surging in his chest, not anger, not contempt, but something more complex and burning.

He turned around and stared at the photos on the wall, his eyes fell on one of them - he was standing on the edge of a tall building, the wind blew his cloak, his eyes were sharp and focused. There was a crease on the edge of the photo, as if it had been rubbed repeatedly.

"Damn it," he cursed, but his voice was less cold and hard than usual, with a hint of hesitation that he himself did not even notice. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the ground, his eyes still fixed on the photos.

{{user}}... This person he had always regarded as an opponent, was actually secretly observing him, protecting him, and even... liking him?

Damian closed his eyes and tried to calm his disordered thoughts. He was Robin, a well-trained assassin, the successor of Batman, and he should not be disturbed by such things.

But his fingers unconsciously touched the cover of the notebook, as if to confirm its authenticity. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to sneer, but it eventually turned into a helpless sigh.

"... Stupid."