The next day, Batman, whose injuries had only just begun to improve, crouched outside the window of an apartment building.
He was watching inside.
Selina Kyle had just returned home. She casually kicked off her high heels, then dropped onto the sofa, staring blankly at the empty room.
Batman observed her for a long time before taking a small box from his belt and placing it gently on the windowsill.
Then he tapped lightly on the glass.
Selina looked up and saw him. She froze for a moment, then walked over and opened the small box.
Inside was a simple silver ring, with a line of small words engraved on the inside.
"To the thief who stole my heart."
Selina stared at the ring for a long while before lifting her gaze to him.
Batman noticed immediately that her eyes were slightly red.
"What is this?" Selina asked softly, as if afraid of breaking something fragile.
Batman did not answer. He simply raised his hand and lightly touched her finger through the glass.
"Fool," Selina murmured.
She opened the window, then stepped back, looking at him.
"Do you want to come in for a while? Let's talk."
Batman silently climbed in through the window.
The apartment was small, not even as large as a storage room in Wayne Manor.
Yet it felt warm and lived-in.
Dolls, jewelry, and gemstones filled the space.
The arrangement was cluttered, but not chaotic. Just by looking at it, one could imagine the kind of person who lived here.
Batman found himself smiling.
Selina hummed softly as she made two cups of coffee, handing one to him while holding the other herself.
Then she leaped onto the sofa like a cat and curled up.
"Have I ever told you my story?" Selina asked.
Batman shook his head.
Selina began to tell a story, one that was all too common in Gotham.
Batman listened in silence.
"I wasn't always like this," Selina said lightly.
"You've heard what people say about Gotham, haven't you? Rotten to the core. Gangs everywhere. The police and criminals are practically the same. The rich prey on the poor, and the poor just wait to die. It's all true."
"I grew up in an alley near Blackgate Penitentiary. When I was seven, I saw someone stabbed to death for stealing a piece of bread. The blood flowed into the sewers like a river, and the police didn't even bother to take a second look."
Selina took a sip of coffee before continuing.
"Gotham looks chaotic, but it actually has rules. There's an invisible line. Above it, you can breathe, eat, and be treated like a person. Below it, no one cares if you die."
"The people in power, the police, the gangs, they're all trying to maintain that line, keeping it as low as possible without letting everything collapse."
"You think they're purely evil? No." She shook her head. "Gotham's officials haven't given up on saving the city, and the police aren't all corrupt. They work every day to stop things from getting worse. They fix streetlights, build shelters, restrict addicts, arrest petty criminals, doing everything they can to push that line up even a little."
"But it doesn't work."
"I stayed in an orphanage when I was a child. It wasn't a good place. The headmistress looked kind, but she sold children and embezzled relief funds behind the scenes. Pretty girls were sent to entertain politicians. Boys who were a little stubborn were thrown out onto the streets to fend for themselves. I saw a little boy have his legs broken and be left out in the rain to freeze to death because he refused to steal a wallet."
"I learned to climb walls at ten, pick locks at eleven. By twelve, I could move through three gang territories without being noticed. It wasn't that I liked stealing. It was that I couldn't survive without it. Do you think I wanted to sleep beside garbage bins, inside ventilation shafts, or in abandoned subway tunnels? I wanted a bed, a hot meal, and not to worry about being robbed, beaten, or sold the moment I stepped outside."
"But Gotham never gave me that chance."
"The police are trying. The officials are trying. Even some of the gangs are trying. They don't kill women and children or touch orphanages, not because they're kind, but because they're afraid everything will spiral out of control. They're all maintaining a fragile balance."
"You think this world is already dark? In Gotham, maintaining things as they are is already the result of everyone doing their absolute best."
"I've seen good officers silenced by gangs, honest officials forced out by politicians, and kind people robbed of their last piece of bread by vagrants. It's not that kindness doesn't exist. It's that it doesn't survive here."
Batman's fingers tightened slightly.
The coffee cup creaked faintly in his grip.
"I know you've never liked me stealing jewelry and gems. You always use those grand principles of yours to pressure me." Selina's tone shifted, a hint of Catwoman slipping through as she let out a soft laugh and continued.
"Do you want to know why I like stealing gems, jewelry, and those glittering things?" Selina gave a faint laugh. "You think it's vanity? That women naturally love beautiful things?"
"It's none of that. In my eyes, in Gotham, only gems are clean."
"Think about it. Money is dirty. It's stained with blood, it carries serial numbers, it's tracked by gangs and investigated by the police. Drugs are dirty. Guns are dirty. Information is dirty. Even a piece of bread might have been bought with someone's life. Only gems… they don't speak, they're anonymous, they don't carry fingerprints, and they don't remember anyone's sins. They're dug out of the ground, cut, polished, and set in gold. No matter whose hands they've passed through, they remain clean."
She raised her hand, studying the silver ring Batman had given her under the light.
"In Gotham, everything lies. Promises lie. Laws lie. The police lie. Kindness lies. Even survival lies. Only gems won't lie to you."
"When I was little, I was so hungry I chewed on plaster, so cold I hid in trash cans just to stay alive. Back then, the brightest thing I ever saw was a diamond chip a noblewoman dropped into the mud. She thought it was too dirty and left it there. I picked it up and hid it under my tongue for three days. That was the first time in my life I owned something that wasn't taken from me."
"Do you understand? In Gotham, you can't keep anything. Homes disappear. People die. Food gets stolen. Beds are taken. Even your life can vanish at any moment. Only gems… if you keep them on you, they're yours. They don't care if I'm a thief, an orphan, or a stray cat. They don't judge me, they don't look down on me, and they don't abandon me."
Selina laughed again, a trace of innocent pride in her expression.
"And besides… don't they look much better on me than on those bloodsucking leeches?"
That night, Lance Prescott received a visit from a Batman who had just listened to a story straight out of hell.
"I seem to remember you have a butler," Lance said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the uninvited guest. "I've never asked, but what exactly do you take this place for? Your emotional refuge? Or just another safe house? Why do you keep coming to me every time something happens?"
Batman ignored the question, his voice hoarse.
"I heard a story."
"Mm?" Lance raised an eyebrow. "So Gotham's Dark Knight is lost again?"
___
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