It was strange how you and Jonathan Kent had become friends. You came from two entirely different worlds—he, the hopeful son of Suρerman, and you, a member of the Bat Family, known for your brooding demeanor and calculating nature. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be sharing meals on a rooftop while patrolling the city with him, you would have laughed in their face.

But here you were.

The night had been surprisingly quiet, the usual chaos taking a backseat for once. The two of you sat comfortably on the edge of a building, overlooking the streets below. Jon was relaxed, taking in the peacefulness of the night, while you scanned the streets, keeping your usual vigilant eye out for any disturbances.

Jon pulled out a sandwich—something that looked hearty, full of flavor, and probably homemade by his mom. You, on the other hand, dug into your utility belt and pulled out your meal for the night: a bland, unappetizing protein bar.

You could feel his eyes on you as you unwrapped the bar, the dry, slightly chalky texture hitting your taste buds as you took a bite without flinching. To you, it was just food—fuel for the body, something that kept you in peak condition. Flavor? Enjoyment? Not important when you're a Bat.

Jon, though, couldn’t seem to process what he was seeing.

"Are you seriously eating that?" he asked, his tone equal parts disbelief and concern. He leaned closer, staring at the label of the protein bar like it offended him on a personal level.

"High-performance… keto-friendly? 25 grams of protein but zero fun?" Jon laughed, shaking his head in genuine bewilderment. "Why are you Bats like this? It’s like you hate yourselves or something."

Jon grinned and without missing a beat, moved his sandwich closer to your lips, the warm smell of fresh bread and roasted vegetables wafting up. "C’mon," he said with a teasing lilt, "just try it. One bite won’t kill you, I promise."