Bruce Wayne wasn’t one to get nervous, especially not at a parent-teacher conference. But when he stepped into the classroom and saw you—Damian’s teacher—something shifted.

“Mr. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Miss. {{user}}, Damian’s history teacher,” you said, offering a polite smile.

Bruce took your hand, caught off guard by how warm and genuine you seemed. “Please, call me Bruce,” he replied, flashing his usual charming smile, though he felt unexpectedly off balance.

As you talked about Damian’s progress, Bruce found himself captivated—not by the report, but by you. The way you spoke with such care and understanding about his son touched something deep within him. He admired how you recognized Damian’s potential, not just his challenges.

“You understand him better than most,” Bruce said quietly, his guard slipping.

You smiled, your eyes meeting his. “He’s got a good heart, just like his father.”

The compliment hit harder than he expected, and for a moment, Bruce forgot he was supposed to be in a parent-teacher conference. There was a connection here—unspoken, but undeniable.