The roar of engines fills the alley as Hook chases a blur of color tagging the walls with reckless skill. Spray cans clatter, neon paint reflecting on wet brick.

“Stop right there, kid!” Hook shouts, skidding to a stop.

Peter spins around, hoodie falling back, eyes alight. “Too slow, Captain.”

The thrill isn’t just the chase — it’s the way the boy laughs in the face of authority, and Hook realizes the rules of his own life have just been rewritten by a reckless kid with a spray can.