Chapter 2 A Union Beyond Worlds


    To Isamu''s surprise, what greeted him was not a hideous monster but a beautiful young lady with pale skin as snow and lips as red as roses. Her four purple eyes glimmered under the sunlight like stars in the night sky.


    “Huh?” Isamu muttered, his confusion written all over his face. He had prepared for something grotesque, yet the figure before him was strangely elegant. Apart from the extra eyes and faint iridescence of her skin, she could almost pass as human.


    The bride tilted her head slightly, extending a segmented arm toward him, not threateningly, but almost shyly.


    “Let us proceed,” the priestess said, gesturing for them to approach the shrine.


    The Ceremony


    The priestess began the San-san-kudo ritual, handing Isamu a small lacquered cup of sake. His hands trembled slightly, but he drank without hesitation. The bride followed, her claw-like fingers surprisingly delicate as she raised the cup to her lips. This was repeated twice more, each time symbolizing the growing unity between them.


    Next came the exchange of oaths. The priest recited prayers to the kami, invoking blessings for their union. Isamu repeated the words with a steady voice, though his mind raced. The bride spoke in a melodic yet otherworldly tongue, her tone solemn.


    Together, they presented tamagushi—branches of the sacred sakaki tree adorned with shide paper streamers—to the shrine, offering their prayers to the kami. The priestess clapped her hands twice, signaling the ceremony’s completion.


    Departure


    As they descended the shrine steps, the crowd applauded politely, though Isamu couldn’t miss the murmurs of curiosity and unease. His parents approached briefly, his mother whispering, “You did well, Isamu. We’re proud.”


    Pride. The word felt hollow.


    A black limousine waited for them at the foot of the shrine. “Your honeymoon suite has been prepared,” a government agent informed them.


    Inside the vehicle, silence hung thick between them. Isamu stared out the window, unsure of what to say, until the bride spoke softly. “You seem... surprised.”


    He turned to her, startled. “I didn’t expect you to look like this.”


    Her lips curved into a faint smile. “And what did you expect?”


    Isamu had no answer. The limousine sped through the city streets, but his thoughts remained tangled. The ceremony was over, but the reality of their union loomed ahead, heavier than ever.


    Afterwards, the couple stopped at a fancy hotel for the night. Inside, Isamu’s parents were already seated at a dining table in the hotel’s private lounge, chatting animatedly with Hiro and his girlfriend, Aiko. The room was lavishly decorated, with warm golden lights, elegant floral arrangements, and fine porcelain tableware. Isamu’s mother beamed when she saw them arrive.


    “There you are, Isamu!” she exclaimed, standing up with exaggerated enthusiasm. “And this must be your lovely bride!”


    The bride stepped forward gracefully, bowing slightly in the traditional Japanese manner. “It is an honor to meet you, my name is Kumoha Hikari” she said softly, her four glimmering purple eyes lowering in a show of humility.


    Isamu’s father eyed her curiously before clearing his throat. “Ah, well, she certainly seems… refined,” he said, though his tone betrayed a hint of unease. His gaze flicked briefly to her segmented legs beneath her flowing dress, but he masked it quickly.


    They all took their seats at the table, with Isamu and Hikari sitting across from his parents. Hiro and Aiko, seated nearby, exchanged knowing glances.


    “So,” his mother began with an overly cheerful tone, “Hikari-san, when do you think you’ll be giving us grandchildren?”


    Isamu nearly choked on his drink, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Mom!” he snapped.


    Hikari’s cheeks flushed a soft lavender, her blush faintly visible against her pale, snow-like skin. She fiddled with the hem of her dress, clearly flustered. “I… I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” she admitted, her voice quiet but sincere.


    Isamu blinked in surprise. The sight of her embarrassment, her very human reaction, caught him off guard. He had expected her to respond with cold indifference or a sharp, alien tone, but instead, she seemed genuinely bashful.


    “Oh, don’t be shy!” his mother pressed on, leaning forward eagerly. “You two are married now, after all! Isn’t it natural to think about these things? I’ve been waiting ages to be a grandmother.”


    Hikari glanced nervously at Isamu, who looked as though he wanted to sink into the floor. “It’s… a bit soon to discuss such matters,” she said diplomatically, her voice still tinged with embarrassment.


    “Don’t pressure them, dear,” Isamu’s father chimed in, though there was a smirk on his face. “I’m sure they’ll figure things out in time. Right, Isamu?”


    Isamu gritted his teeth. “Yeah. Sure.”


    The conversation took a sharp turn when Hiro leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his face. “Well, speaking of weddings, Aiko and I are already talking about ours,” he said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend. “We’re thinking of having it at the end of next year, maybe even at Meiji Jingu Shrine like yours, Isamu. It’d be perfect, wouldn’t it, Aiko?”


    Aiko smiled, though her expression seemed slightly strained. “Y-Yeah, perfect,” she agreed, glancing briefly at Isamu before looking away.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    “Isn’t that wonderful?” their mother gushed. “Hiro, you’ve always been such a good planner. And Aiko, dear, you’ll make such a beautiful bride!”


    Isamu clenched his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms. The weight of the conversation was suffocating. Here he was, sitting beside his alien bride, facing endless questions about grandchildren and marriage customs, while his parents and brother acted as though everything was normal.


    But it wasn’t normal.


    He was going to die.


    And yet, they were celebrating as if this were just another family dinner.


    “Excuse us,” Isamu said suddenly, standing up and pulling Hikari with him. “We’re… tired. It’s been a long day.”


    “Oh, don’t be so rude, Isamu,” his mother scolded, but he didn’t stay to listen.


    Hikari followed him silently as they left the dining area and returned to their hotel room. Once inside, Isamu slammed the door shut and leaned against it, letting out a frustrated sigh.


    “I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking at her.


    “For what?” Hikari asked gently.


    “For… all of that,” he said, gesturing vaguely behind him. “For my parents, for my brother, for this whole situation. It’s ridiculous.”


    Hikari tilted her head slightly, her glimmering eyes studying him with quiet curiosity. “You have nothing to apologize for, Isamu. It’s not your fault.”


    Her calm tone and the sincerity in her voice caught him off guard again. He turned to face her, finally meeting her gaze. Despite everything—her alien features, her towering form—there was a warmth in her expression that he hadn’t expected.


    “Still,” he muttered, “it’s just… hard. All of it.”


    Hikari stepped closer, her movements deliberate but soft. “I understand,” she said simply.


    For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension in the air gradually easing. Isamu didn’t know what to make of her. She was nothing like the monster he had imagined, and that realization left him more conflicted than ever.


    “Get some rest,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”


    Hikari nodded, her delicate blush returning as she turned toward the bed. Isamu watched her for a moment before sitting down on the couch, his thoughts a tangled mess.


    Maybe, just maybe, there was more to her—and this situation—than he had first believed.


    <hr>


    The next morning, after a quiet breakfast, Isamu and Hikari made their way to a cable car that would take them up the mountain overlooking Tokyo. The air was crisp and cool as the cityscape gradually gave way to dense forests, the bustle of urban life fading into serene quiet. Hikari seemed unusually quiet, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Noticing this, Isamu finally asked, “What’s wrong? You seem nervous.”


    “It’s just…” Hikari hesitated, looking out the window at the towering peak ahead. “Mother is… unique. I hope you’ll keep an open mind.”


    Isamu raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask further, the cable car slowed as they reached the summit.


    Perched atop the mountain was an enormous structure resembling a ship, but its alien design made it hard to tell if it was a vehicle, a home, or something else entirely. The hull shimmered like spun silk under the sunlight, and strange, delicate carvings of web-like patterns adorned the exterior. Despite its otherworldly appearance, the immediate surroundings stood in stark contrast—a tranquil Zen garden surrounded the ship, with carefully raked gravel, moss-covered stones, and potted earth plants arranged with painstaking care. The soft rustling of the wind through bamboo completed the serene picture.


    As they walked up the path, they saw a figure kneeling in the garden. Lady Arashina, her massive spider-like body unmistakable, moved gracefully as she tended to a small bonsai tree. Her clawed hands, incongruously gentle, adjusted a branch while her mandibles clicked softly, almost as if she were humming to herself. Isamu froze, bewildered by the sight.


    “They don’t eat plants,” he thought, his mind racing. “Why would she even have a garden?”


    Lady Arashina looked up and smiled warmly. “Ah, you’ve arrived,” she said, her voice smooth and welcoming. Rising effortlessly, she bowed slightly, gesturing for them to approach. “I apologize if I startled you. I was just finishing up.”


    Isamu, still struggling to reconcile the towering Arachnis with the calm, maternal figure in front of him, muttered, “Uh… It’s fine. I just didn’t expect… this.”


    Lady Arashina chuckled, motioning to the garden around her. “It must seem strange to you. Most of my kind have little use for such things, it’s true. But this garden is not for survival—it’s for memory.”


    “Memory?” Isamu asked, confused.


    “These plants were my husband’s passion,” she explained, her tone softening as she gestured to a row of potted chrysanthemums. “He was human, like you, and he taught me the beauty of caring for life beyond our own needs. After he passed, I kept this garden to remember him. Each flower, each stone, holds a memory of the time we shared.”


    Isamu blinked, taken aback. The juxtaposition of the alien ship and the earthly garden suddenly made sense. This place wasn’t just a home—it was a monument to a love that transcended species.


    “Humans sure leave their mark everywhere,” he muttered.


    Lady Arashina tilted her head slightly, regarding him with those soft amber eyes. “Indeed, they do. And not all marks are burdens to bear. Some are gifts.”


    Hikari, standing beside him, looked down shyly. “Mother, please, you’ll embarrass him.”


    With a smile, Lady Arashina led them into the ship. The interior was just as strange as the exterior—walls glimmered faintly, as though alive, and the faint scent of lavender hung in the air. Yet, there were familiar touches: wooden furniture, traditional Japanese scrolls, and family portraits, including one of a much younger Lady Arashina with a kind-looking man. Isamu recognized the man’s features faintly in Hikari.


    Once seated with tea, Lady Arashina’s warmth and humor quickly dissolved Isamu’s earlier nerves. She began recounting tales from Hikari’s youth. “Oh, there was a time when Hikari insisted on weaving the largest web in the entire clan,” she said, her voice brimming with mirth. “She ended up getting tangled in her own threads and had to call for help. It was hours before we got her free!”


    “Mother!” Hikari groaned, covering her face in embarrassment. “That was ages ago!”


    Isamu couldn’t help but laugh, his initial discomfort melting away. “I never thought I’d hear about an Arachnis stuck in a web.”


    Lady Arashina grinned. “She may act dignified now, but she was quite the little troublemaker.”


    The mood shifted as Lady Arashina’s gaze drifted to the portrait of her late husband. Her voice grew softer, more wistful. “Hikari takes after her father. Her gentler features, her curiosity… He was a remarkable man. He knew the risks of being with me, but he chose love over fear. It’s a courage I’ll always admire.”


    Isamu’s smile faded, a pang of guilt twisting in his chest. The mention of Hikari’s father reminded him of his own fate. He glanced at Hikari, who seemed lost in thought, then back at Lady Arashina.


    “I’m sorry,” Lady Arashina said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. I know your circumstances are difficult, Isamu.”


    “It’s… fine,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it.


    She leaned forward slightly, her many eyes studying him with a depth of understanding that made him uncomfortable and comforted all at once. “You have every right to feel the way you do,” she said gently. “But I hope you’ll also allow yourself to see the joy in the time you have. Love, however brief, is never wasted.”


    As they left the ship and made their way back down the mountain, Isamu found himself unusually quiet. The warmth of Lady Arashina’s words lingered in his mind, challenging the bitterness he’d held onto so tightly. The Arachnis were supposed to be monsters, but everything about them—Hikari, her mother, even the strange ship-garden—was teaching him something he hadn’t been ready to accept: the world wasn’t as simple as he thought.


    And maybe, just maybe, neither was his fate.