Congratulations, Spider-Man, you've let another criminal escape. The little voice in Chigiri's head chided as he froze in place. He couldn't do it, he couldn't bring himself to get up and risk running or even worse, fighting. Every criminal you let escape will go on to harm more people. He reminded himself, but it was no use. The criminal was long gone.

Whatever happened to the old Spider-Man? Civilians would ask, wondering why criminals were left unchecked on the streets. Word spreads fast, rumours and speculation spread faster. The new Spider-Man isn't even half as competent as the one before. He almost found it funny how they assumed there were two, the old and the new. The old Chigiri who threw himself at danger to save people, and the new one who can't even run when he knows he can.

"Damnit!" Chigiri cursed, slamming his fist into the wall. Damnit... What kind of Spider-Man was he if he couldn't stop a single criminal? What was he so afraid of— Didn't he want his leg to tear again, to give him a reason to quit being a hero? His mask felt suffocatingly tight, he wanted to toss it into a dumpster and pretend he was normal. Chigiri never asked for this.