The sun warmed the top of a young boy's head as he sat on the porch steps, his small legs dangling over the edge. A few feet away, his mother knelt in the grass, gardening gloves snug around her hands. She looked up at him, and a soft smile creased the corners of her eyes.
"Look, Ari," she whispered.
She held out her palm. A ladybug crawled slowly across the fabric of her glove. She leaned closer, the scent of lavender and soap drifting toward him in the warm air.
The sky darkened in an instant.
A thick, black leg dropped from the roof, the size of a tree limb. Stiff, needle-like bristles scraped against the wood of the porch. Another leg followed. Then four more, hooking into the siding.
The porch groaned under the weight. Its body lowered into view, multiple eyes catching the light in flat, oily circles. His mother didn't move. She remained on her knees; the smile still fixed on her face.
Above her, giant mandibles opened slowly. Wet. Black. Clear liquid dripped onto her shoulder. They snapped shut around her waist.
Ari jolted upright, breathing heavily. Sweat clung to his skin, soaking his shirt and cooling rapidly against his chest.
…A dream…
The sharp, repetitive beeping of his alarm cut through the silence from the table beside his bed. With a heavy sigh, he reached over and shut it off with a sharp click, then collapsed back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling.
I feel like skipping today… It's not like anyone would notice.
He turned to his side and pulled the blanket over himself. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a portrait of his mother smiling as she held him in her arms. Her face never left his memory—her soft smile, her lingering warmth.
He took a deep breath, eyes barely open, as he dragged himself out of bed. He straightened the sheets and fluffed his pillow, forcing his sluggish limbs through the routine.
Moving on autopilot, Ari trudged to the bathroom and took a long, steamy shower, as if the water could wash away the exhaustion clinging to him. After drying off, he dressed in his school uniform, tying his tie loosely around his collar before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He barely tasted the food as he ate in silence.
Once finished, he noticed a small note resting on the counter, his father's rushed handwriting scrawled across it:
Going on a business trip. I'll be back in two weeks. Stay safe. — Dad
Ari crumpled the note in his hand. His expression was empty, showing no surprise at all.
"My old man really is busy with work, huh?" he muttered.
He tossed the paper into the trash, slipped on his shoes, and shut the door with a light thud. His footsteps were slow, his bag hanging loosely off one shoulder. His mind drifted, and a familiar bitterness surfaced in his thoughts.
Ever since I was a kid, I despised insects and arachnids—anything crawling under the phylum Arthropoda. Venomous little freaks that could injure or even kill you.
My mother was a victim. A spider bite stole her life, her allergy suffocating her before help could arrive. No one was there. No one knew until it was too late.
Ari stood at the railway, waiting for the train to pass.
It was a spider… but ants are the ones I hate most. They build nests in the house. They swarm food the moment it's left out. They bite without warning, and the pain lingers. No matter how many you kill, they always come back. As a kid, I drowned their nests with the garden hose. It gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.
Ari sighed as he turned down the road leading to his school.
Funny, though. My name is Ari Igarashi. And "Ari" literally means ant. I've always thought that was kinda weird.
Just as he crossed an intersection near a convenience store, someone tapped his shoulder lightly. A bright feminine voice greeted him from behind.
"Good morning, Ari."
He turned his head slightly, his dull eyes settling on a girl with green eyes and brown hair tied in a ponytail. A smile was on her face.
"Oh, good morning, Keiko."
"You look as gloomy as ever. If I'm not too careful, I might end up like you," she said with a light chuckle. "Is everything alright at home?"
As they walked side by side, Keiko held a finger to her chin, trying to recall.
"Come to think of it, I haven't visited in a while," she said.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired, that's all."
He yawned to make his point as they continued walking.
"What's with that tone?" Keiko sighed, then smiled. "Well… that's just like you. Listen, you really should sleep more. Seriously. It's important to get proper rest, okay?"
"I'll try," Ari said, waving his hand lazily.
"Anyway, see you later. I'm running late for a meeting."
Keiko tapped him lightly on the back before jogging a few steps ahead, her hands clasped behind her back. She turned with a smile, then took off, her ponytail swaying in the gentle breeze as she moved further down the street.
Keiko Matsuoka. The most popular girl in our school. One of the best tennis players in Japan, and vice president of the student council.
Sometimes I wonder… why does someone like her waste her time talking to me?
Ari lowered his gaze to the cracks in the pavement, memories of her smile and the fireworks festival flashing in his mind.
We've been friends since childhood. Our parents worked at the same company, so it just kind of happened.
Even as she grew more popular, she never turned her back on me. She always found time.
When I skipped school, she'd show up with notes. When I shut myself away, she'd knock on my door just to check in. Sometimes she even came over to cook—or just talk, like we used to when we were kids.
Sure, there's no chance she feels the same way I do. But even so… at least I'm this close to her.
The school gates came into view. Just as Ari stepped forward, footsteps rushed toward him. Before he could turn, he was surrounded.
"Ari, you don't mind if I talk to you for a minute, right…?" a familiar voice sneered.
Ari turned, his dull eyes landing on a red‑haired boy. His hand tightened on the strap of his bag, trembling slightly.
And then there are these guys… the ones who can't accept that Keiko isn't into them.
Without waiting for a response, the group lunged at him. A fist slammed into his ribs, another into his stomach. Ari gasped, the air knocked from his lungs. Before he could slump forward, a boot caught his face, sending him sprawling.
They didn't stop. Kicks rained down, fast and merciless. The thud of shoes against his back, his arms, his legs. Ari clutched his stomach, coughing, vision blurring as drool slipped from his mouth.
"I just don't get it." The boy dragged a hand through his hair, jaw tight. "Who does Keiko think she is, rejecting me after everything I've done?"
He let out a short, irritated breath. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but his eyes stayed cold.
"Well… I guess that's to be expected." His voice lowered. "There are already rumors going around. People say they've seen her on weekends, meeting older guys in the city."
He leaned forward slightly, hands resting on his knees.
"So maybe she'll only give in for the right price."
"You take that back…"
Ari's fingers curled into his palm, dirt pressing into his skin as he forced himself to look up. His eyes were red, unfocused.
"Keiko is nothing like that, you bastard. What do you know about her, Goto Hirasuma?!"
His voice cracked as he shouted. Goto didn't respond immediately. He stepped forward, the sole of his shoe pressing against Ari's cheek and forcing his head sideways against the pavement.
"Know your place, you pile of trash."
Goto shifted his weight, grinding his shoe harder against Ari's face. Ari's jaw tightened. His teeth pressed together as pain shot through his cheek.
"Don't even bother trying to act tough," Goto continued, voice low and steady. "I know your little secret."
He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer.
"You think I don't know what happened in junior high? How you were bullied every single day?"
Ari's face drained of color, eyes widening in shock.
"I heard all about it… how you wet yourself, how you'd lose your mind. It's hilarious. And of all people, just our luck that you enrolled here."
The group let out low chuckles, shifting their weight from foot to foot.
"What does Keiko see in a plain, pathetic loser like you? Why would she even bother looking your way?"
"I buy her chocolates, roses—hell, I even bought her tennis rackets. But she rejected them all. And for what? To hang around garbage like you? It's really starting to piss me off!"
Goto lifted his foot from Ari's face with a slow, deliberate motion. He straightened, pressing his hands into his pockets, and turned away. Finally, Goto called off the others.
"Alright, that's enough. I think we've roughed him up plenty. Don't want to get in trouble with the disciplinary committee now do we?"
He leaned down, eyes cold and unblinking, boring into Ari's swollen face. "Listen carefully. Stay away from Keiko. I mean it. If you don't, this will happen every single day, just like in junior high. Ignore this warning, and the only thing you'll ever feel is pain. Let's go. I'm sick of looking at your disgusting face."
They walked off, shoulders relaxed, laughing as they disappeared towards the school, leaving Ari bruised, bloodied, and gasping on the ground. Ari held his head low and slammed his fist against the ground, tears blurring his vision.
Damn it… why…
That bastard Goto. Who does he think he is? Keiko isn't someone who would go for a guy like him—just because he's the captain of the soccer team, or because of his history with other girls.
It's happening again… just like junior high.