Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

Maybe it's rare to know how to take into account the precarious mental health problems of his colleagues, maybe it's because in his mind, the task of being on duty is far more important than "rushing out of the monitoring room and scolding Superman bloody". During the afternoon party time, Batman did not appear in the lobby.

Everyone's mental state changed from fear, to gradually relieved, to unscrupulous, and then to inexplicable emptiness.You look at me and I look at you. While looking at each other, I can't help but reflect on whether I have suffered from the Stockholm syndrome of the bat limited edition.

Cynthia, who didn't understand why the heroes' mentality changed so subtlely from the beginning to the end, was coaxed and persuaded by everyone for an unknown number of glasses of wine (can't get drunk), and danced more than a dozen dances (the number of dances with Wonder Woman was the most), and then Sang a few more songs for a group of rowdy juniors, and finally ended the afternoon's carnival with "Jingle Bells".

Everyone took the small gifts that they had exchanged, and returned in high spirits. They flocked to the door of the hall noisily. Superman turned his head and joked with Cynthia behind him, and opened the doorknob.

With the sound of "squeak", everyone stopped suddenly.Superman saw that Cynthia's blue eyes looked behind him and opened slightly.On the side, Cyborg's only remaining eye was staring at him desperately, and the expressions of Flash and Green Lantern twisted in horror.

A sense of foreboding suddenly crossed Superman's mind.

He turned his neck stiffly, turned his head slowly, and saw a familiar black in the corner of his eyes.

His partner, the dark knight, the best detective, Batman, was standing at the door with arms folded, and he didn't know how long he had been waiting here.

Superman: "..."

Other heroes: "..."

The Flash whispered to Superman: "How did you not hear him??"

Superman: "...don't ask me that question..."

The only one among them is Cynthia who doesn't know what's going on.She looked at the suddenly silent people around her strangely, and asked Batman, "How long have you been standing here, why don't you come in?"

"Just arrived." Batman said, stepping into the door, his colleagues shunned him wherever he went.

He seemed to raise his eyebrows, looked at his trembling colleagues, and said in a low voice and incomprehensibly: "I thought... some people don't want to see me in this hall."

Cynthia frowned: "Who made you feel this way?"

"—hey, b!"

Before Batman could answer her question, Superman interrupted abruptly, "What a coincidence! Why are you here? Want something to eat? We've got plenty of—uh—"

He turned his head and saw the dinner plate on the table in the hall that had been swept away by the Flash.

In the dead silence, Batman spoke.

"I'm not here to eat." He said gloomily, "The party is over, you can go back. Superman is on duty tomorrow, so come to my break room then, don't forget."

In Superman's painful and daring eyes, he paused, looked at Cynthia, and said, "You stay here."

Everyone: "Hiss—"

Cynthia raised her eyebrows.

"Okay." She glanced at Batman, shrugged, and turned to look at the heroes beside her, "It's almost dinner time, you all go back first, there are relatives waiting for you at home."

Everyone then slowly walked out against the corner of Cynthia's side.

When passing by her, Steel Bone whispered fearlessly: "Don't forget our trip, Goddess, don't forget to take me—"

Cynthia smiled: "I won't."

The hall door slammed shut.

Under the faint light of the meteorite on the top of the Christmas tree, Batman stood silently, and the lead black mask was also coated with a layer of warm color.

Cynthia looked at him, played with the ends of her hair unconsciously with her fingers, and cleared her throat: "...so...what do you want me to do here?"

Batman's steel-blue eyes reflected her appearance, he was silent for a while, and said without beginning or end: "... I am on duty in the watchtower today."

Cynthia blinked: "So...?"

"So," Batman whispered, "I'm not going back tonight."

Cynthia was stunned for a moment, and it took a while to realize: "Wait...what? But...today is Christmas! Do you just let Afu stay in the manor alone?"

"I have to," Batman said harshly. "Crisis on Earth won't stop happening just because of Christmas. There's always someone in the watchtower to monitor everything."

"Although I didn't ask Clark, I'm sure this is the shift you transferred yourself." Cynthia folded her arms, "I remember that you were not the one who was supposed to be on duty today."

Batman glanced at her, turned his head, and his eyes drifted to the distant universe outside the window.

"They all have their own families. I am the most suitable candidate." He said in a deep voice.

Cynthia let out a long sigh.

"You know that's not the case," she whispered. "Don't always put yourself last, Bruce, none of us would like to see you do that. They'll be happy to help keep watch if you ask them." Yes. Besides, Alfred is waiting for you at the manor."

"Alfred knows I'm not going back today." Batman said stubbornly, wrapping his cloak.

"Alfred loves you very much, Bruce." Cynthia took a step closer to him, persuading him, "He cares about you very much, and also cares about you, so spend more time with him, and don't hurt an old man's heart."

"Unfortunately, I can't." Batman said flatly.

Cynthia: "Bruce—"

"But maybe you can."

Cynthia froze for a moment: "...what?"

"Alfred misses you very much," Batman said. "He mentions you to me at least three times a day. I think he might feel a little better if you were with him."

Cynthia couldn't follow his train of thought for a moment.

So Batman continued: "Lightning also asked you to take them on a trip to Gotham, didn't you?"

Cynthia opened her mouth: "...you know? They have already discussed it with you?"

Batman was noncommittal, saying only, "If you were a tour guide, this tour would probably turn into the Justice League's first team-building event—the kind sponsored by the Wayne Corporation."

Cynthia looked at him dumbfounded: "You have prepared so much, don't you just want me to go back to Gotham once?"

Batman's voice reveals a smile that belongs only to Gotham Prince: "I'm not foreshadowing, I'm just stating the facts."

"Oh, please, Bruce." Cynthia couldn't help stroking her arm, "Don't talk like that in Batman's costume, I won't be able to face you in the future."

Under her narrow gaze, Batman shrugged: "Okay. Tonight is different after all, and I thought I'd allow myself to give you some of 'Brucey', just for you."

As he spoke, he stretched out his hand and took off his bat hood.

Scattered black hair fell from the hood, covered his forehead with a little moisture.Handsome eyebrows, cobalt blue eyes, high nose bridge, and thin lips with pale blood.

The prince of Gotham—Bruce Wayne's recognizable face and his perfectly slender figure are now wrapped in the somber uniform of the Dark Knight.

Even knowing Batman's true identity, at that moment, Cynthia couldn't help feeling a little bit confused.

"you……"

"We're in space now," Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, "and I paid for the watchtower. Since there's no third person here, I don't think it's dangerous to take the hood off. "

Cynthia shook her head and couldn't help laughing.

"You're right." She nodded, "Then I also decide to stay here with you tonight."

Bruce paused.

"Why?" he asked her.

Cynthia looked at him with a smile in her light eyes: "It just so happens that I don't have any family either. In this case, the two of us won't be alone tonight."

Outside the window is the Milky Way all over the sky, and the ends of their hair are stained with the brilliance of stars.The corals, meteorites, and pearls on the Christmas tree, and the virtual screen behind them flashing lights, they want to spend a warm and strange Christmas Eve in the universe, this place that does not belong to the world.

Bruce looked at her, the color of the moonlight seemed to be born to soar in space, if you don't try hard to pursue it, even if it stays between your fingers in the last second, it will slip away quietly in the next moment, without a trace.

He couldn't help feeling a trace of inexplicable panic and uneasiness in his heart.

Driven by that panic, he suddenly opened his mouth.

"...would you like to hear some music?" he asked.

"What?" Cynthia tilted her head in confusion.

"It's a long time tonight," Bruce said. "I could play the piano for you."

Ever since Cynthia started working as a psychiatrist for the Justice League, there has been a lot of musical equipment in the rest area of ​​the watchtower hall.Among them, the most conspicuous one is the expensive black grand piano.

Cynthia looked at him in surprise: "Piano? You?"

"Don't you believe my level?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just..."

Cynthia looked at his attire, Batman's light armor was still on him, and the dark cloak wrapped his slender figure, which seemed out of place with his face that represented the "fairy girl".

"...No, it's nothing." She touched her nose. "I'd love to, sir. Maybe I can compete with you."

Bruce smiled.

"We'll wait and see." He said, walked to the piano, opened the stool, and sat down.

The ragged edge of the black cloak fell to the ground.

Bruce is tall and straight, wearing the light armor to look like a tuxedo.He took a light breath, put his slender fingers on the keys, and closed his eyes.

A quiet tune flowed slowly from his fingertips.

The rhythm is soothing and beautiful, the atmosphere is ethereal and mysterious, and the melody is calm and long.Listen carefully, with a trace of unique loneliness and bewilderment.It was as if a night traveler was sitting under a street lamp holding his salute, while looking up at the silent Milky Way in a foreign country, he exhaled a steamy breath into the palm of his hand, and wrapped the scarf around his neck tighter.

Delicate, indifferent, delicate, bright, charming, sad.Everything is silent, and there is a soft white light floating in the air, gently covering every corner of the night, embracing everything in a warm and peaceful embrace.

Cynthia slowly opened her eyes wide.

"Moonlight" by Debussy.

It is said that when Debussy composed this "Moonlight", he was deeply fascinated by the poet Giraud's narrative poem "Moonlight Pierrot".In the poem, an Italian youth named Piero entrusts his sincerity to the moonlight, but because of indulging in other things, he loses the moon's preference and is finally killed by the moonlight.

At the end of the story, Vieiro realizes the mistakes he has made all the time, repents deeply to the moon, gets her forgiveness, and thus returns to the world.

The melody of "Moonlight" also gradually slowed down with the dancing of the fingertips. After a string of small and ethereal notes, it finally lingered for a while and dissipated in the cool air.

For a while, no one spoke.

Bruce lowered his arms in silence, stood up from the piano bench, and looked up at Cynthia.

"...Why did you choose this song?"

Cynthia asked, and as soon as she opened her mouth, she realized that her voice had become a little hoarse at some point.

"Because... I want to do what Viero did."

Bruce whispered, stretched out his arms, and slowly spread his palms in front of Cynthia.

A familiar stone stands among them.

Milky white, like suet, tied with a red string, it seems to be the same as before.The only difference was that on the meniscus behind the cloud, there was a hideous scar, which was carefully repaired and perfected.

Even so, the crack is still clearly visible.

"I didn't ask anyone to fix it."

Bruce looked down at it, then raised his head again, staring fixedly at Cynthia who was stunned.

"I found it from the ruins. At that time... I didn't know that I would have a chance to see you again, so I put it in the manor together with the pearl you sent back. This is what I can do It's the limit, Cynthia..."

He breathed a sigh of relief calmly, clenched his fists.

"...If I were Piero, could you be the moonlight that forgave him?"