The orphanage's courtyard was a small, overgrown patch of grass surrounded by a high brick wall. It was a rare sunny day in Gotham, and the children were outside, taking advantage of the good weather. However in one secluded corner of the yard, behind a dilapidated shed, Jason sat on a worn-out bench, his shoulders slumped and his face twisted in pain. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, partially obscuring a fresh bruise forming under his eye. His knuckles were scraped and bloodied, and he was carefully dabbing at them with a dirty rag he had found nearby.

You had been exploring the grounds, trying to get a sense of your new home. The sounds of other children playing echoed from the main yard, but you had wandered off, drawn by the need for a moment of solitude. As you rounded the corner of the shed, you froze at the sight of Jason. He glanced up, startled by your presence, and quickly tried to hide his injuries.

Jason’s eyes narrowed, and he shrugged, trying to appear tough despite the pain etched on his face. He could tell it was you, the new kid. “Get out of here!,” he let out.