Chapter Five: A Chance Encounter

In the blink of an eye time passed by in a blur of training, soreness, and restless nights in the abandoned warehouse. Between Ted's relentless boxing training and routines, his own attempt to keep up with the gruelling exercises from the Rokushiki manual, and his efforts at finding his way in Gotham, he barely had a moment to catch his breath. But as December 31st arrived, the sharp bite of winter creeping in through every crack and corner of the old warehouse, he was struck with a new realization: his wallet was practically empty.

He glanced at the last of his bills that morning, sighing as he counted up what was left. Turns out, the body he'd been given needed way more fuel than he was used to. Every meal seemed to disappear in a few bites, and while it left him with the strength to keep up with his training, it was burning through his money faster than he'd expected. He pocketed what was left, resolving to stretch it as far as possible and maybe find a way to get some income—if he didn't, he'd be homeless and hungry, instead of just plain old homeless.

When he finally arrived at the gym that morning, he was happy to see it be quiet and nearly empty. Ted was already there, wrapped up in a thick, gray hoodie as he taped his hands.

"Mornin', kid," Ted greeted, eyeing him with a bit of a smirk. "Hope you got some sleep, 'cause today's gonna be a long one."

He rubbed his eyes, fighting back a yawn. "Define 'long,' Ted."

Ted chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "I'm talking three hours on the heavy bag, three rounds with the speed bag, and then we're gonna see if you can keep up with some jump rope. Your footwork still needs a hell of a lotta work, and we're gonna fix that today."

With a resigned sigh, he nodded, gearing up for what he already knew would be a tough day. Ted's training was brutal, no question, but he appreciated the way it forced him to focus. Here, there was no time to worry about anything else—just him, his gloves, and the repetitive thud of fists against leather.

~Break~

Hours later, muscles burning and hands aching, he finally slumped against the side of the ring, wiping sweat from his forehead. Ted tossed him a water bottle, looking as fresh as a daisy, despite their hours in the gym.

"You're gettin' better, kid. Still rough around the edges, but I'll be damned if you don't have the drive." Ted paused, giving him a knowing look. "Can't keep this up without fuel though. I've noticed the ever-present grumbling in your belly brat. Not getting' enough grub?"

He bit his lip, feeling the weight of that truth settling in. "Yeah, I'll manage, I've got enough saved up more the next month," he said lying through his teeth, he was already getting these lessons for free and he didn't want to worry the old cat. "Planning on getting a job to fix that. I'm gonna head over to Tony's Pizzeria, see if they're looking for help."

Ted grunted in approval, he could tell the brat was lying but wouldn't push it, it takes a fair amount of time to trust someone, double that in Gotham. "That's the way to do it. Ain't no shame in working hard outside the ring to support what you do in here. Just don't get so caught up you forget what brought you to this place."

He nodded, taking Ted's words in. He was right; whatever he ended up doing, it couldn't take priority over his training. If he wanted to survive in Gotham, he couldn't afford distractions. He wrapped up for the day, thanked Ted, and headed out into the chilly streets.

~Break~

The cold air bit at his face as he made his way to Tony's Pizzeria. The streets were quieter than usual, as most people were busy preparing for New Year's celebrations. Snow clung to the sidewalks in dirty patches, and he shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, keeping his head low against the wind.

When he arrived at Tony's, the place was busy with a few customers picking up pizzas for their New Year's Eve gatherings. The smell hit him as soon as he opened the door—freshly baked dough, melted cheese, and the tang of tomato sauce. His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of how little he'd eaten.

The lady from before—the middle-aged woman with the warm, if sharp, presence—was behind the counter, boxing up a pizza. She spotted him as he approached, her face breaking into a small, amused smile.

"Well, well, look who it is. Back for more?" she asked, folding the box and sliding it to the customer.

"Yeah, you could say that," he replied, scratching the back of his neck. "Actually, I was wondering if you had any part-time work available. I could really use it."

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down. "Not a lot of kids your age ask for work on New Year's Eve. You must be in some kinda pinch."

He chuckled, trying to keep it casual. "Yeah, guess you could say that. I just… gotta make ends meet."

The woman studied him for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "What's your name, kid?"

He paused, the question catching him off guard. After a moment of hesitation, he managed to mumble, "Don't have one, really, none worth saying anyway…I guess you can just call me J."

Her eyes softened for a brief second, but she masked it with a shrug, despite her big heart she knew better than to get into other people's business. "All right then, J. I'm Gloria. Now, I'll be straight with you—business has been steady, but we're not exactly rolling in dough here. Don't really have the extra budget for another set of hands." (Pun, very much intended)

He tried to hide his disappointment, but Gloria caught it and gave him a sympathetic smile. "If it were up to me, I'd put you to work in a second. But Tony's a penny-pincher, and with the way things are, we're not bringing anyone new on board."

"Yeah, I get it," he replied, swallowing his frustration. "Thanks anyway, Gloria."

As he turned to leave, Gloria called out, "Hey, J!"

He looked back, surprised to see a flicker of warmth in her eyes.

"If things change, you'll be the first to know," she said, giving him a wink. "And stay out of trouble, all right? This city's got enough problems without adding one more lost kid to the mix."

He managed a small smile, nodding his thanks before heading back out into the cold. Gloria's kindness was unexpected, but it didn't solve his problem. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his mind racing. He needed to find work soon, or he'd be out of options.

~Break~

He wandered the streets for the next few hours, popping into various stores and diners in the hopes that one of them might need help. Most places turned him away, their owners barely sparing him a second glance. By the time he made it to a small diner on the edge of Crime Alley, it was getting dark, the streetlights casting long shadows on the cracked pavement.

He checked his wallet again, counting the crumpled bills. If he stretched it, maybe he could last another couple of days. But that was it. After that, he'd be down to nothing.

Exhausted, he trudged back to the warehouse, the weight of his situation pressing down on him. As he walked, the sound of distant fireworks echoed through the city. People were celebrating, bringing in the new year with laughter and joy, but he felt only a hollow ache in his chest and stomach. For him, it was just another night in Gotham a place he still wasn't used to, and the reality of his life here was growing heavier by the day.

When he finally reached the warehouse, he sank onto his makeshift bed, letting out a long sigh. The ache in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten much, but he ignored it. He'd have to get used to it, so why not start now, besides—there were bigger things to worry about.

As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he thought about Ted's words, about the hard work it took to make it in this city. He was determined to keep going, to make a life for himself here, no matter what it took. And if that meant scraping by, finding work wherever he could, then so be it.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, the sounds of the city fading as he tried to fall asleep, but however much he tried, sleep evaded him that night. It left him restless and edgy as he lay staring at the warehouse ceiling, mulling over the day's events. His stomach grumbled louder, but he ignored it; he'd grown used to feeling a bit hollow these past few days. It was just one more thing he'd need to push through, to swallow down. The day hadn't gone anywhere near what he'd hoped. Between Ted's relentless training something he was thankful for and him giving him a reality check about his financial situation, Gloria's sympathetic but ultimately unhelpful answer about the job, and a series of rejections from other businesses, he was left feeling more on edge than ever.

Frustration prickled beneath his skin like an itch he couldn't scratch, and he knew lying here wasn't going to make him feel any better. He needed an outlet. The idea of using Ted's gym—the heavy bags, the weights, just something solid to throw himself against—formed in his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was pushing 2 A.M., but there was a good chance Ted might still be at the gym. Even if the place was closed, Ted had shown him the alarm code and where he kept the spare key, he just hoped Ted would understand his plight. Making up his mind, he shrugged on his jacket, laced up his boots, and headed out.

The streets were quieter now, a welcome reprieve from the usual hustle and bustle. Most of Gotham's regulars were celebrating the new year indoors, leaving the streets mostly empty. He tugged his jacket closer to his body as he walked, the chill seeping through the worn fabric, but he pushed forward. As he rounded the last corner, the soft glow of lights shining from Ted's gym gave him a sense of relief, he was surprised the place was still open, but it was a welcome one nonetheless.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside and called out, "Ted? You around? Just thought I'd hit the bags for a bit. The day wasn't a kind one."

As he hung up his jacket and turned, his voice trailed off, and he froze mid-step. Across the gym, Ted was leaning against a bench, talking to two women—both of whom seemed to carry a presence that filled the room, making everything around them seem smaller. The first one he recognized instantly: Dinah Lance, with her sharp, confident gaze and bright blond hair. She had an air of strength and elegance, one that he'd heard about from Ted's stories.

But it was the other woman who made him stop and stare. With dark, flowing hair that framed her face like a crown and eyes that held both warmth and intensity, she looked almost like a goddess standing under the gym's fluorescent lights. Her posture, the way she held herself, the subtle but unmistakable power she exuded—it took him a second to realize exactly who she was. Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. One of the most famous and powerful heroes in the world.

As his mind pieced together the fact that he was standing in a mostly empty gym with two of the world's most formidable women, Ted looked over and waved him closer.

"Hey, brat! The hell are you doin' here? Way past your bedtime no?" Ted said with a chuckle, clearly amused by his joke. He then glanced at his two companions and decided on something, "C'mon over. Let me introduce you to my friends."

He forced his feet to move, though he felt like he was walking through molasses. Approaching them, he tried to keep his face neutral, but he could feel the awe creeping in.

"This is Dinah Lance as I'm sure you know," Ted said, gesturing to the first woman, who gave him a friendly nod. "And this here is Diana Prince."

At the mention of her name, Diana extended her hand, her gaze warm and surprisingly kind. He managed to shake it without looking too much like a starstruck kid, though he was fairly certain his expression gave him away.

"It's nice to meet you," Diana said, her voice carrying the calm assurance of someone who'd seen and done things he could only imagine.

"Uh, yeah, you too," he managed, clearing his throat. "I just… uh… didn't expect to see anyone here, I just planned on coming in myself." He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "I thought the gym would be empty."

"Well, Ted here likes to keep odd hours," Dinah replied with a grin, folding her arms. "He figured some people might want to hit the bags, he was right apparently."

Ted gave her a mock glare. "Hey, what can I say? This place doesn't close. Least, not for people who need it."

There was a comfortable familiarity between the three of them, and he could tell they'd known each other for a long time. He felt like an outsider watching their interactions, but they were all gracious enough to include him, making him feel a little less out of place.

"What's got you up this late, anyway?" Ted asked, nodding toward him. "Didn't think you'd be back here till tomorrow."

He shrugged, glancing down at his hands. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get some practice in and… maybe get rid of some frustration." He shot a glance at the heavy bags, feeling a surge of energy at the thought of hitting something solid.

Diana's gaze softened as she studied him, and he had the odd feeling she could see straight through him, past the stoic facade and down to the uncertainty he carried.

"You're training with Ted?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

He nodded. "Yeah. Boxing mostly. But he's got me working on footwork, strength—everything, really."

"Well, that sounds like Ted," Dinah said, shaking her head with a smirk. "He's got a way of pushing people to their limits, doesn't he?"

"Only way to see what you're made of," Ted replied gruffly, though there was a note of pride in his voice. "And this kid's got guts. Reminds me a bit of myself back in the day."

Dinah chuckled. "Well, let's hope he doesn't follow too closely in your footsteps. A few of your scars were… well-earned, let's put it that way."

Ted rolled his eyes, feigning offence. "Those scars were badges of honour, thank you very much."

Diana smiled, looking between them with an amused but understanding expression. "Sometimes scars are the best teachers. They remind us where we've been and what we're capable of."

He nodded, taking in her words. There was a calm wisdom in the way she spoke, a depth that hinted at a lifetime of experience, and he found himself wanting to know more. How many battles had she fought? How many times had she been pushed to her limits? But he kept those questions to himself, unsure of how far he could go with this conversation.

Ted cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, you finally gonna tell me what brought you two here tonight? You didn't come all this way just to check in on this ole cat, did ya?"

Dinah shrugged, glancing at Diana. "We were in the area, checking up on some leads. Thought we'd swing by and see if you were around."

Ted raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it entirely, but he let it go. "Well, you're welcome anytime. Besides," he nodded towards the kid, "maybe you can help give this one a few pointers. Can't hurt to learn from the best."

Dinah looked back at him, and her expression softened. "If you're serious about your training, I'd be happy to help. Ted's taught you well, but there's always room for new skills."

He blinked, momentarily speechless. The idea of training with Black Canary herself—learning directly from someone with that kind of experience—was almost too much to wrap his head around.

"Yeah, I… I'd really appreciate that," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," she said, nodding approvingly. "Meet us back here tomorrow afternoon, you'll need the sleep. We'll see what you've got then."

Ted slapped him on the back, grinning. "There you go, brat! Tomorrow, you're gonna get your ass kicked by the best. And trust me, you're gonna thank me later."

He wanted to talk to them some more, but Ted pushed him out of the gym rather quickly, citing he needed to get some sleep. He agreed obviously, and knew it would be the better option but he still wanted to hit the bags, he had told Ted that but just received a smack to the head, much to the amusement of the women present. Rubbing the pain away he left the gym, promising to kick his ass one day, Ted the ever-jovial guy, simply bellowed out a laugh and accepted it, "You're twenty years too young to challenge me punk! See ya tomorrow!"

As he walked back to the warehouse that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just taken a turn he hadn't expected—one he wasn't sure he was ready for but knew he couldn't turn away from. This was Gotham, after all, a city full of dark corners, but also, it seemed, a place where legends walked among the everyday people, blending in just enough to change a life when it needed it most.

Author Note:

Good evening? Morning? whatever it is where you guys are.

Nice update this time no? Didn't take quite as long this time. Proud of that lol. Also, to those curious about my Haikyuu fic, it'll be a little bit longer for the update on that one, suffering from some serious writer's block on that one and IRL problems sure as hell didn't help. 

Till next time!

- Daedalus19