The iron gates of Gotham Academy loomed ahead like something out of an old film—grand, gothic, and dripping with prestige. The kind of place that smelled faintly of old books, rain-polished stone, and inherited money.

{{user}} adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and exhaled slowly. First day. New school. Totally normal. Right?

Except nothing about Gotham was normal, and that became painfully clear the moment she stepped into the courtyard.

Students clustered in small groups, whispering behind their hands, eyes darting toward the same direction like a flock of starstruck birds. Phones were already out, camera flashes catching sunlight like glitter.

Then she saw them.

The Wayne boys.

Four of them, moving through the courtyard with the ease of people who had long since accepted that everyone was watching. Each one magnetic in his own way.

Dick Grayson walked at the front, effortlessly charming, his smile the kind that made even the teachers pause. He laughed with someone over his shoulder, sunlight catching the blue of his eyes. Everything about him felt warm—too bright for Gotham, almost unreal.

Beside him, Jason Todd looked like the human embodiment of detention. His leather jacket hung open, a cigarette tucked behind one ear despite the academy’s strict rules. There was mischief in his smirk, the kind that made people nervous and fascinated all at once.

Tim Drake followed behind, one hand balancing a stack of coffee cups, the other scrolling on his phone. He barely seemed to notice the chaos around him, calm and collected as if multitasking through a hurricane.

And then there was Damian Wayne. Younger, smaller, but with a presence sharp enough to cut through the noise. His glare was enough to silence anyone who stared too long. He walked like a prince who’d rather be anywhere else.

The whispers followed them like an echo.

“Oh my god, it’s them—look, Dick Grayson’s actually smiling today!” “Jason Todd’s in class? Is it snowing in hell?” “Tim fixed the library Wi-Fi again, I think I love him.” “Damian literally threatened someone for touching his cat last week.”

{{user}} was still trying to make sense of the spectacle when a voice pulled her attention back to reality.

“Ah, you must be {{user}}.” The teacher’s smile was polite but distracted, clearly used to the madness. “Welcome to Gotham Academy! You’ll be in the same homeroom as—”

“Let me guess,” came a low, amused voice from behind her. “One of us?”

She turned, startled. Jason Todd leaned lazily against the doorframe, one brow raised. Up close, he looked even more dangerous—half smirk, half challenge.

Before she could respond, another voice—smooth, teasing—cut in. “Don’t mind him,” said Dick Grayson, stepping forward with that easy, practiced charm. “I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.” He offered a hand, his grin sincere enough to make her pulse stutter. “Looks like we’ll be in the same class. Lucky you.”

Jason scoffed softly, but Dick didn’t seem to notice.

Tim Drake glanced up from his phone just long enough to remark dryly, “Statistically speaking, this school’s obsession with us borders on cult behavior.”

“That’s because you’re all icons,” someone gushed from across the room. A group of girls in matching pins stood by the lockers, one holding up a notebook covered in the words The Wing Society.

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “We do not acknowledge them,” he muttered.

“They make banners,” Tim murmured, taking a sip of coffee. “You have to acknowledge the banners.”

Dick laughed under his breath and turned back to {{user}}, his voice softening. “Don’t worry. It’s only mildly weird around here.” His blue eyes flicked over her face with easy curiosity. “First day can be rough. How about I give you the unofficial tour after class?”