/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>45533755
a simple truth.
Also, beautiful spider and offspring
>>45533688
would look silly and cute, the perfect combination wtih motherhood~
also, just remembered I never finished the Parsee/Chen chapter in the Underground… oops.

(1/2)
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Learning from Yamame is incredible! She's strict yet welcoming and always lets me, Chen—hi!—do things my way with the condition I try applying her teachings~. I've learned so much in such a short time… Sessions, though, are exhausting, and I'm glad she lets me roam around and explore the Underground during my free time.

Humming a song Mr. Anon likes to sing sometimes and carrying with me a backpack, I float close to the ceiling, thanking whoever created me for the mirror layer of my eyes—very useful!

… Though it's a barren search: barely any actual spider likes deep underground environments, and Ms. Yamame's family will only visit in the end of the month, so no cool spider to see…

Sighing, I spin around, looking for something interesting to see, but all I manage to do is waste time, and—suddenly, my stomach growls.

Oh, forgot it's my lunch break too!

Giggling the embarrassment away, I fly down and land on a nearby bridge, sitting on the handrail and unpacking a mini-box filled with fish pastéis Mr. Anon made—that food we ate together when Ran came to visit for the first time—and a bamboo bottle full of authentic sugarcane juice Ran got from the other side of the world~!

And, of course, three skeins—more inside the bag.

Everything organized and a pastel eaten, tails bopping with the shower of flavor, I pull my pair of needles and start knitting… something, eyes closing as I sip the sugarca—

"Ugh… Look at you, so happy and carefree. You look like you don't have a single worry in the world." A feminine voice takes me out of my little world, puzzled and surprised as I open my eyes and meet iridescent green eyes, like deep pools of molten-liquid pH-0 emeralds—Ran said that's VERY acidic—, astonishingly beautiful jewels on the pointy-eared blonde's face… though, there's a weird rage swimming in there. "What? Something on my face, spoiled brat?"

My ears drop with her tone, hands trembling with the uncalled-for attack. Why is she being mean? Subconsciously, I fetch a greenish skein from my bag. "N-No… why are you mad? I just sat here to eat." My heart accelerated with anger, but I ignored it.

"Well, I don't have anything to eat! I only have this shit bridge to oversee—why don't I, a hard-worker, get something that smells that nice to eat too?" She scowls, and I feel tears welling in my eyes. "Guess what, snotty brat, it’s because I don't have mama or papa to make nice things for me; not everyone is as privileged as you! I also don't have time to cook! I'm just a lonely, ugly woman living in the Underground, surrounded by women much prettier than me with better jobs, too! I didn't have an easy childhood full of love, like you must have had, idiot! So unfair! Gah, I'm so jealous! Makes me so pissed—"

I lunge over her, one of my pastéis in hand and stuff it into her dumb mouth. "SHUT UP!" With her busy trying to comprehend what happened, I hovered next to her leg and kicked her chin, making her yell in pain and kneel… Crying with the boiling rage, I sit down again, scrubbing my face hard before reaching for my needles and utter, trembling: "I hate d-dumb adults like you! I hate! You think you know everything and everyone and can judge just like that—based on what? Looks? Guess-work?!… Saying mean things like that hurts others feelings! BAKA, BAKA!!" Sniffing and with my face red from the crying, I couldn't properly concentrate on knitting, bitterness flooding my mouth and sapping away all the food's taste, my stomach turning.

It was such a quick and sudden interaction, yet it ruined my day…

I looked at her again, my chest swelling with red-hot rage. She was holding her shin still, munching on the pastel, her face lowered… Though I wanted to say much more—let that rage flow out of my heart and attack just like she attacked my feelings—, I couldn't help from ruminating about her words… They sounded so sad.

… Maybe…

Forcing myself to eat the pastel, I catch my needles but don't resume knitting just yet, saying: "Your eyes…" She pauses her munching. "… Are of the prettiest greens I've ever seen. So full of life and emotion." Using green thread, I keep knitting… something.

She doesn't move for a moment, but I can see she finished the pastel… Then, her face lifts to meet mine, and the absolute shine of her toxic irises makes my hands knit ferociously. Her smile trembling, she says: "T-Thanks for the food… It was delicious."

How did she go from mad to happy so quickly?! The feeling was jarring. “Y-You’re welcome…?”

"… You really think my green eyes are that pretty?" She asks, blushing hard, and I bewilderedly nod—! She loudly yelps in happiness and holds her reddened face, scaring the soul out of me.

Who is this woman?! Why was she so mad at me? Was it even me, or was I the first person she found to lash upon her woes…? "Do you want… more?" I offer a second pastel and, practically beaming, she sits by my side and pulls out a lunch of her own—what?! B-But I thou—

“Thanks~I’m Parsee!”

“… Am Chen.”