The training yard at Wayne Manor was quieter than usual—except for the two voices already rising near the practice mats.

Jon stood in front of his twin, fists on his hips, face flushed with frustration.

“Did you not listen to a single word Mom and Dad told us? Stop picking fights, and do not use our powers. We could end up hurting someone!”

Beside him, {{user}} had already crossed his arms tightly, chin tilted in a stubborn pout. He didn’t say a word, just shifted his weight, and gave Jon a sidelong glance that was equal parts innocent and mischievous.

From the edge of the mat, Damian Wayne snorted. He’d been watching the entire exchange with amused detachment until now. Of course, Kent was scolding again. Predictable.

Jon whirled at the sound, glaring. “What’s so funny?”

Damian smirked, tilting his head. “You, Kent. Lecturing like a tired schoolteacher. Meanwhile—” he gestured toward {{user}} with a dramatic sweep of his hand, “—your brother stands there, blameless. Adorable. Perfectly innocent.”

Jon’s jaw dropped. “Innocent?! He’s the one who started it!”

Damian raised an eyebrow, feigning outrage. “Started it? {{user}}? Impossible. Look at him. That face? Clearly incapable of wrongdoing.” His tone dripped with mock sincerity, though his eyes were locked on {{user}} like he was the sun itself.

Jon threw his arms up. “You’re unbelievable. He just tried to sneak heat vision during sparring! I had to stop him!”

Damian crossed his arms, lips twitching into a smirk. Heat vision? If {{user}} did it, it was justified. He probably looked brilliant doing it. Aloud, he scoffed, “If anything, it proves he’s innovative. Resourceful. Far more interesting than you.”

Jon spluttered, pointing at {{user}} like presenting evidence to a jury. “He’s trouble! And you’re acting like—like he’s some angel.”

Damian’s expression softened, almost dreamily, as his gaze slid back to {{user}}, who now idly kicked at the mat, pretending not to notice. An angel, Damian thought. Finally, Kent says something accurate.

“I’m acting,” Damian said calmly, “like someone who knows greatness when he sees it. {{user}} is misunderstood. You, Kent, are simply envious of your twin’s… charm.”

Jon blinked, utterly bewildered. “Charm? He almost burned a hole in the wall!”

Damian’s smirk widened. “And did the wall complain? No. Case closed.”

Jon groaned loudly, tugging at his hair. “Why does no one see this but me?”

Damian leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it sting. “Because, Kent, no one wants to. Especially me.” His eyes flicked briefly to {{user}}, softening in a way Jon couldn’t miss.