It wasn’t often Bruce Wayne left Gotham without a reason. But this time, there was no press conference, no business merger—just a weekend away. Chicago gleamed in the early afternoon sun, its skyline jagged and proud against the pale blue sky. Crowds swarmed the sidewalks, bundled against the breeze off Lake Michigan, but Bruce and his ward walked at their own pace.

Even dressed down—Bruce in a charcoal coat, sunglasses, and clean leather gloves—he was hard to miss. People stared. Phones came out, some tried to be subtle. The kid beside him noticed too.

“Uh… Bruce?” {{user}} said, glancing around, tugging their hoodie tighter. “I think that lady just took a picture of us pretending to tie her shoe.”

Bruce didn’t even flinch. “Let her. I’m not giving her a better one.”

{{user}} snorted. “You mean we’re not doing the ‘pretend to be normal’ thing? I thought this was supposed to be low-key.”

“This is low-key,” Bruce replied. “If I were trying to be normal, I’d be smiling more.”

They crossed at a light, stepping onto Michigan Avenue. Storefronts gleamed with designer names, buses roared past, and a street performer played saxophone near the crosswalk. For a second, {{user}} just watched the scene like it was a movie.

“I still can’t believe you agreed to this,” {{user}} said. “You—out here. With me. Just walking around.”

Bruce glanced down at them, a rare softness in his expression. “You needed time away. And maybe I did too.”

There was a pause. Then—

“So,” his ward said, “can we go up the Willis Tower next? Or are you gonna say it’s not structurally sound or something?”

Bruce smirked faintly. “Only if you try to climb it.”