After a long pause, he finally admitted, "I really don't remember."
Jason Todd's brief smile faded quickly.
He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, his expression turning sour. "You remember that old bastard, but you forget me?"
"Old bastard? What are you talking about?" Soren asked, confused.
Jason growled, visibly annoyed. "Who gave you that batarang?"
"Batarang? That was Bru—Bruce gave it to me. You know Bruce? Who are you? How do you know Bruce?" Soren's confusion deepened.
Jason fell silent, momentarily speechless.
"..." Jason took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions.
He plucked a blade of grass and bit down on it, mumbling, "—Forget it. We used to... I guess we pulled a few small jobs together."
—Like catching a couple of Arkham Asylum escapees from Gotham's talent pool, and sneaking off to drive the Batmobile.
"Forget it?! How could you forget something so important?" Soren felt a bit deflated. Hearing Jason mention those past exploits piqued his curiosity. "What small jobs? Bank robberies?"
"No! No bank robberies, no robbing the rich to feed the poor—none of that!" Jason snapped back, his frustration evident. "In short, you're not a criminal!"
"Ah..."
Soren looked unexpectedly disappointed—he had hoped for some grand, adventurous backstory.
He sighed, turning to gaze at the stars above, feeling dejected. "Then what was I doing before? Why are they all working together to deceive me...?"
"What did they deceive you about?"
Soren replied glumly, "They told me I grew up in Manhattan, that I had straight A's, never got sick, and was a winner in life."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
Soren looked up at the twinkling stars.
If he squinted, he could see that they were all different colors.
Some glimmered faintly red, others a soft blue, while some shone like pure diamond-white.
...The night sky felt like a vast bowl turned upside down, enclosing him within.
He stretched out his hand toward the dark expanse, fingers splayed open, flipping his palm as he studied his fingertips and the back of his hand. "But I always feel like this is all fake."
"You know? Nothing in this world is perfect. If someone's life seems flawless, it just means there's a lie hidden somewhere."
Jason fell silent for a moment. "But they might just be doing it for your own good."
"—I'd rather face an imperfect truth than live a perfect lie."
Soren pressed his index finger against a diamond-bright star in the sky, whispering softly.
He lowered his gaze, and before Jason could respond, he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no! My sandwich!"
In a flurry, he opened his messenger bag and rummaged through it until he pulled out a box containing the sandwich.
This was the sandwich he had prepared before secretly coming to Gotham, knowing he was heading to potentially dangerous places.
He had made sure to pack safe food for himself, but he hadn't expected to hop onto someone's motorcycle and speed out to the outskirts before even getting any intel.
His sandwich had probably been jostled to bits!
Fortunately, it seemed mostly intact, with thick slices of cheese and savory ham nestled between the halved bread.
He pulled one out and offered it to Jason. "Want one? I got this sandwich in New York."
"..." Jason, who hadn't had dinner yet, quickly accepted the food Soren handed him.
Soren smiled at him, then lay back on the grass.
The two of them bit into their sandwiches, carefree and free under the starry sky.
Meanwhile, hidden deep within the layers of his messenger bag, a Batarang suddenly glowed with a red light.
Radio waves amplified at high frequency were received by the decoder in the Batcave, clearly playing through the listening device.
Batman, dressed in his all-black suit with titanium-infused, three-layered liquid armor gloves, removed the earpiece.
He turned around to his side, his expression hidden beneath the shadows of the bat mask.
"You must have heard everything clearly," he said slowly, watching the aging demigod standing against the wall.
Clark lowered his head, looking at his hands, and said hoarsely, "He just doesn't know. If he knew—"
If Soren knew how much suffering and bloodshed lay hidden in those erased memories, he would surely wish never to remember.
It was precisely because Soren didn't know that he could gaze at Clark so resolutely and defiantly, as if trying to discern his true form from the depths of his soul.
Those Kryptonian-blue eyes, under the clear sky of Metropolis, reflected every detail of Clark's aged face.
In that moment, Clark felt his reason begin to crumble.
He longed to pull Soren into his chest, to kiss those bright blue eyes, to press his lips, soft as rose petals, against his own, wishing to merge their very essences and never separate again.
But he couldn't.
Because this Soren, with his shining and unblemished soul, bore no trace of shadow.
Light would pass through diamonds, casting brilliant, colorful reflections on white paper.
Soren might be curious enough to explore those colors and layers, but he had no need to investigate where the luminous points etched into his soul came from.
And if he discovered everything that had happened...
He would, just as he had during that year they spent together in Washington, prefer to forget those painful memories.
——Only by forgetting everything can Soren truly find peace.
Batman said, "If you really believe that, then why do you keep showing up in front of him? If you wanted to leave, could he catch up to you?"
Clark smiled bitterly and shook his head. "Because the moment I see him… the moment I see him, I can't even move. Bruce, do you have any idea how badly I want to just take him away from all of this?"
Batman fell silent.
The black silhouette merged with the shadows, silent and resolute like a mountain.
After a moment, he spoke again, his tone a reminder: "You know the consequences of repeating past mistakes."
He glanced toward Superman's chest.