So I’m a Spider, So What?, Vol. 6

by Okina Baba

No creativity. No appeal. Just a nickname concocted purely to make fun of me.

  That was my nickname in high school, by the way. In middle school, they called me “the vampire.”

  Maybe those nicknames were just easier to remember than my real name, Shouko Negishi.

  At any rate, I think it was inevitable I’d get called things like that.

  My old appearance couldn’t be considered attractive by any standard.

  Extremely pale skin.

  A scrawny, bony body.

  When I looked in the mirror, I was greeted by a deathly face with sunken cheeks and vacant eyes.

  My teeth were crooked and uneven, with a single canine tooth prominently jutting out.

  I was ugly, plain and simple.

  In that life, I hated the way I looked.

  Wouldn’t you?

  I hadn’t done anything to deserve it, and yet I was constantly bullied or the target of some gossip solely due to my awful appearance.

  For someone like me, a girl like Hiiro Wakaba seemed blessed beyond belief.

  Namely, her looks.

  The first time I saw her, I was amazed that someone so beautiful could actually exist in real life.

  That’s how pretty she was.

  That’s why she was “winning at life.”

  At the time, I thought if only I looked like that, I’d have it made for the rest of my life.

  I was jealous, to be honest.

  This girl had everything I didn’t, at least in terms of good looks.

  And so, I spent a lot of my high school days watching her.

  She hardly ever spoke a word.

  She never said anything unless it was absolutely necessary, and she certainly didn’t make any attempt to communicate voluntarily.

  So conceited, I thought.

  It wasn’t really fair of me to think that, but compared to how others avoided me because of my appearance, her case was more like she wouldn’t let anyone near her.

  The end result was the same but for completely opposite reasons.

  People bullied me from a distance, but they seemed to worship her from the same distance.

  Perhaps you could describe her as “aloof”?

  Whatever you want to call it, she had a certain air about her that made her easy to admire but hard to approach.

  The main difference between Hiiro Wakaba and me was our appearance.

  But that one factor was enough for people to treat us totally differently.

  The better you look, the better people will treat you.

  The worse you look, the worse people will treat you.

  It’s a disparity we’re all born into, a distance between our starting lines that can’t be changed with any amount of effort.

  Hiiro Wakaba was born with all the blessings I lacked, yet for some reason, she always seemed bored.

  I don’t know what was bothering her, but not once did I ever see her look like she was having fun.

  She always wore the same unimpressed expression.

  It was as if those inscrutable eyes weren’t staring at the world around them.

  Yet despite this apparent detachment, her gaze seemed to pierce right through everything.

  As much as it galled me, I understood why everyone worshipped Hiiro Wakaba.

  There was something about her that was beyond any normal person’s comprehension.

  Coupled with her good looks, it gave her a certain mystique in everyone’s eyes.

  Hiiro Wakaba had all kinds of things I didn’t.

  I nursed a one-sided jealousy toward her and, at the same time, hated myself for feeling such an ugly emotion.

  But how could I help it? What should I have done? If I had a pretty face, would my life have been different? Does that mean my life was on the wrong path from the moment I was born? Being ugly on the outside makes you ugly on the inside, if you ask me. That’s just how life goes.

  If you have good looks, then you’ve already won at life.

  That was my conclusion.

  “Okay, we’re gonna spend the night in that town. You wait around here, ’kay, White?”

  Yet my prime example of a winner—Hiiro Wakaba, now known as White—is currently shouldering some heavy misfortune herself.

  We’ve been avoiding drawing human attention to ourselves for various reasons, but we can keep that up for only so long.

  Thus, we’ve decided to stop in the nearest town to buy food and miscellaneous supplies, but White can’t go in because of her current form.

  So we’re leaving her behind out here.

  Let me be frank about my feelings at the moment.

  Serves her right!

  No matter how pretty you might be, obviously a nonhuman can’t go into a town!

  You see, Hiiro Wakaba isn’t a human anymore.

  Aside from being pure white, her upper half looks pretty much the same, but her lower half is the body of a spider.

  In other words, she’s a monster called an arachne.

  I’ll admit, I always wondered (rather rudely) whether she was even really human in our old world, but I never expected her to actually stop being one.

  Although it’s irritating that she’s somehow still as beautiful as ever.

  But that’s not the reason I’m gloating over her misfortune now.

  No, my issue is how she’s been treating me on this awful journey!

  I’m still a baby, you know?!

  I shouldn’t be able to stand, let alone walk, so why does she have to force me to hike along these mountainous paths?!

  Doesn’t that seem wrong? It seems wrong to me!

  If Ariel hadn’t explained the reasoning behind those little training exercises, I probably would’ve snapped by now.

  But according to her, it’s to increase my skills and stats.

  This world has a strange setup where things like skills and stats actually exist, and the more you train them, the stronger you become.

  Ariel says that White has been putting me through the gauntlet to improve my skills and stats.

  Supposedly, she’s thinking of my future, but I don’t know if I buy that.

  Incidentally, the nickname “White” came about after the following exchange:

  “Why don’t we call you ‘Princess’? Do you want me to put a ribbon on you? You won’t be able to transform into a magical girl, though.”

  “No.”

  “How about ‘White,’ then? Although that one kinda sounds like a pet cat.”

  “…Do what you want.”

  If you ask me, “Princess” is a much better name, but whatever.

  And what was all that about a ribbon?

  There was a lot to unpack in that little conversation, but at any rate, Ariel really did start calling her “White” after that.

  I’m pretty sure Ariel picked a weird name on purpose just to annoy her, but her would-be victim doesn’t seem to particularly mind, so even Merazophis and I have jumped on the bandwagon and started calling her White.

  Considering how she’s treated me so far, I like to think I’m allowed to be a little petty.

  “Awww, poor White. You won’t get to eat any tasty food at the inn or sleep in a nice comfy bed. It sucks, but what choice do we have, right? But don’t worry! I promise I’ll enjoy it twice as much in your honor!” Ariel grins, clearly aiming to add fuel to the fire.

  White is expressionless as always, but she’s exuding even more intimidating energy than before.

  There are practically sparks flying between these two.

  Scary.

  Just like that, my dark little “Serves you right!” celebration is over.

  This is it.

  This is why I can’t stand up to these two, no matter how unreasonable their actions get.

  They both hold overwhelming power.

  Either one of them could probably take on a whole army alone.

  That strength is granted to them by stats, a concept that would be unthinkable in our old world.

  Mera
zophis and I aren’t even close to comparable.

  Whenever I think about what would happen if I made one of them mad enough to turn that power against me, I can’t help but go along with whatever they say.

  “That is quite enough, you two. You are upsetting the young miss.”

  And yet, Merazophis tells them off without a second thought.

  “Oopsie daisy! Sorry about that. All right, let’s go. Don’t sulk too much, White. I promise we’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

  Ariel’s overwhelming aura disperses at once, and she waves lazily as she turns to walk away.

  Watching her leave, White emits a small sigh before sitting on the ground.

  Flanking her on either side like guards are two puppet taratects, mannequin-looking monsters summoned by Ariel.

  “Now then, excuse us.”

  As I absently gaze at White and the puppet taratects, my body is gently lifted into the air.

  Looking up, my eyes meet with Merazophis’s under the shadow of his hood.

  Since White’s been forcing me to walk all this time, it’s been a while since Merazophis carried me like this.

  Right, I suppose it’s more natural if he holds me when we go into town.

  I was about to try to follow after Ariel on my own two feet. Maybe this indoctrination is really starting to get to me.

  Merazophis quickly catches up to Ariel.

  Since she’s so short, especially compared to Merazophis, it’s an easy feat for him.

  My legs might not have been able to catch up at all.

  “Are you certain it is wise to provoke her like that?” he asks, matching her stride a short distance behind her.

  I don’t know how Merazophis can speak so boldly to such frightening characters.

  He very strongly protested the way White was treating me at first.

  Although she silently directed such a murderous glare at him that he was forced to shut up pretty quickly.

  “Hmm. I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings toward White myself, y’know. Can’t I be at least a little unfriendly toward her? Don’t worry, though. It’s not like we’re actually gonna start trying to kill each other or anything. Neither of us would be that stupid.”

  I understand that Ariel and White have a complicated relationship.

  Whatever she might say now, they really were trying to kill each other not too long ago.

  They agreed to a truce when they realized that neither of them stood anything to gain from fighting anymore, so now they’re supposedly allies, but that doesn’t mean they’re suddenly going to be super-close friends.

  Apparently, Ariel still has a grudge against White for killing a bunch of her subordinates, and White still seems cautious of Ariel’s immense power.

  If anything, things are so tense between them that it’s a miracle they can work together at all.

  Then there’s Merazophis and me, stuck in the cross fire.

  Traveling in such a strained mood is rough, if I’m being honest.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, there are times like before when their efforts to intimidate each other affect me, too.

  Really, this trip is bad for my heart.

  We were able to get into town without a problem simply by paying a toll.

  I was worried there might be some trouble, what with Merazophis’s appearance, but nothing happened.

  Right now, Merazophis is completely covered from head to toe in a robe to keep away from the sunlight.

  The hooded robe, which White made especially for him, makes anyone wearing it incredibly suspicious.

  However, since people in this world fashion equipment and armor from monster parts on a regular basis, this sort of getup is more common than I thought.

  In fact, it might be a perfectly acceptable outfit, and it seems suspect to me only due to memories from my previous life influencing me.

  Whenever I experience a discrepancy like this, I realize all over again that I’m still not accustomed to this world.

  Maybe that’s why, in spite of the circumstances, it doesn’t feel real enough for me to be sad about what’s happened.

  I’ve lost my parents, lost my home, and have now been forced to basically live on the run, yet I don’t seem to feel a thing.

  In this world, I’ve been blessed.

  I was born into a high-class family, so while some day-to-day things weren’t as convenient as they were back in Japan, my quality of life was comparatively high for this world.

  And most importantly, my parents were both good-looking.

  Good looks equals “winning at life.”

  I continued to hold on to this theory from my old world.

  Since both my parents were good-looking, their child—me—was bound to be good-looking in the future, too.

  In that case, my new life should have been happier than my old one.

  Yes, I really did think that.

  However, part of me felt like I had no choice but to hang on to my old ways of thinking.

  After all, I suddenly woke up as a baby in a different world, you know?

  I had to be optimistic if I wanted to go on.

  There was an awful lot of inner turmoil to deal with before I managed to reach that point, but let’s not talk about that.

  In the end, despite my resolve to be optimistic in my new life, everything fell apart in the blink of an eye.

  The happy future I’d imagined for myself crumbled away.

  All I have left is this body of mine and Merazophis.

  My new parents who showered me with affection, that elegant mansion, the social status, wealth, political power…all gone.

  Honestly, it’s such a complete fall from grace that you almost have to laugh.

  But I think the reason I don’t have the capacity to react to what’s happened is because I’ve already died and lost everything once before.

  It’s true that a lot was taken from me this time as well, but compared to my previous life, I wasn’t nearly as emotionally attached.

  I spent far longer in my old world than I have in this one, after all.

  If you ask about my parents, the first people who come to mind are my original mom and dad.

  My parents, who were as dull-looking as I was, who had only their kind natures going for them.

  My dad, eternally stuck in his dead-end job.

  My mom, a housewife who totally sucked at cooking.

  Sure, my parents in this world were superior in pretty much every way, but I still feel more affection toward my previous life’s family.

  I mean, they always treated me with love and care, even when I grew up to be a sullen and twisted person.

  I cursed them out for making me look the way I did, yet they only became even more tender and gentle.

  That kindness was the only thing about them that deserves praise, but to me, that’s what was worthy of admiration.

  By comparison, I never quite managed to accept my parents in this world as my real family.

  They also showered me with affection, but death came for them before we could form a real parent-child bond.

  Maybe it’s more that I never fully accepted that I would be living in this new world now.

  There’s just so much that I never managed to let go, both in my old life and this new one.

  We pass through the gate, enter the town, and secure a room at the inn.

  After that, Ariel and I stay in the inn while Merazophis goes out to buy supplies.

  We came to this town for the sole purpose of buying things we need for the journey, so once Merazophis is finished, we could theoretically leave without a problem.

  I have no doubt that we’re staying at the inn only out of Ariel’s spite toward White.

  Although I can’t say I have any complaints about getting to relax for a night.

  As I sigh quietly, Ariel rolls around happily on the bed.

  …She really is enjoying herself, just like she told White.

  This behavior wouldn’t be that
unusual for a young teenager, which is exactly what she looks like, but isn’t this person actually a demon lord?

  She’s quite the mystery.

  “Hmm? What is it?” Noticing my gaze, Ariel half sits up on the bed.

  “Oh, nothing…” I falter, since I obviously can’t tell her what I was actually thinking.

  “Not what you pictured, huh?” She manages to guess what’s on my mind anyway. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s hard to believe that a little girl like me is a demon lord.”

  I panic on the inside, but she smiles as if it doesn’t bother her at all.

  Her smile makes me waver a little.

  Ariel never stops smiling.

  She’s always cheerful and sociable, and she’s been looking out for Merazophis and me throughout our journey.

  Not only that, but she even covers for White, who barely speaks.

  To be honest, I don’t think we’d have been able to go on for long without her.

  It’s true that her thoughtful, considerate nature doesn’t exactly fit my image of a demon lord.

  “It’s not the easiest thing to get used to. I would’ve imagined a demon to be more of a creepy and terrifying sort. To be completely honest, a nice person like you being a demon lord is a little hard to swallow.”

  “Thought so. Though I dunno if I’m all that nice or not.”

  Ariel nods in response to my honest assessment.

  “Personally, I’m pretty aware I don’t exactly fit the part. Especially looking like this.” She shrugs.

  “I suppose your appearance is part of it, but I think it’s your personality that seems out of place for someone with that title. You’re very kind, Miss Ariel.”

  Again, that’s my honest opinion.

  It’s true that her appearance isn’t what I would have expected, but it’s what’s on the inside that seems especially unfitting for a demon lord.

  A demon lord is supposed to be a being of pure evil who doesn’t bother with the concerns of others.

  That’s how humans here conceptualize demon lords, too.

  A king of demons, determined to destroy humanity at all costs.

  But here Ariel is, blending into the crowd while visiting a human town, and she doesn’t seem terribly evil, either.

  “Ah-ha-ha, I guess. But I’m on my best behavior right now, y’know. And I guess I’m being kind to you partly out of sympathy, but it’s also out of self-interest, Sophia.”