I reclined in my chair in the backyard, gazing up at the starry night sky, though there were not many stars visible due to the city lights. The house behind me illuminated the garden, casting an eerie shadow over the lawn. A constant and mysterious humming filled the air, almost like the city was a living thing with its heartbeat. Despite the light, the garden was quite still, as if the hum of the city was forever present and never letting me enjoy a moment of peace.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, my bad habit of waxing poetic creeping up on me again. I used it to try and distract myself from something else, but it never worked.

The door slid open behind me, followed by the tell-tale skittering of too many legs on the cement.

"Yo, Rachnera," I greeted, not even bothering to look back.

"Counselor," she declared, closing the door behind her and standing beside me. I glanced her way and noticed she was also gazing up at the sky, her arms folded. "It seems star-gazing is futile if there are no stars to be seen in the night sky."

"I see a couple," I told her, lifting a hand to point at the west. "There." My hand moved northward. "And there."

"Good for you." Rachnera sighed. "You want to discuss what I said to you earlier."

Not even a question, I noted. Hardly surprising, coming from her.

"You made it sound like I never cared about Mero," I said, struggling to maintain my composure. Damn it, even after trying my hardest to remain calm, I still found myself getting emotional. Maybe Mero was a bigger issue for me than I had initially realized.

"I did," Rachnera agreed, though she didn't sound pleased about it.

"You suggested I was deliberately going back on what I told Mero without even considering her feelings."

"I did."

"You even..." I took a breath. "You even asked if it was because she had a fishtail."

"... I did."

"I understand that you were going through a difficult period," I stuttered as I put my hand on my forehead. "And you were looking out for your friend. But that was unacceptable. It hurt me to hear that from you. I thought we were friends."

I didn't know how to express my thoughts, or perhaps I had plenty of words and couldn't find the courage to say them. I looked away from Rachnera, my gaze settling on the backyard. Every part of me was tense and uneasy, as always whenever I had to face someone. It was something I never managed to do as well as my friends did.

Rachnera was silent for a few moments, which I found to be a welcome reprieve; it meant that she was carefully considering her words before speaking, something that I deemed necessary for the entirety of our conversation.

"... I said all those things and more," she eventually started. "I assumed the worst of you, despite evidence to the contrary. I..." She took a deep breath. "I let Ren's letter get the better of me. What happened between me and her family left more of a wound than I'd realized."

"Of course, it would," I offered sincerely. "I'd honestly be worried if it hadn't affected you."

Rachnera retorted, her anger rising in her tone. Her claws clenched into fists before she shook her head and unclenched them. "That doesn't give me the right to become an irrational hypocrite," she said regretfully. "I let my misgivings with you and myself get the better of me, and that's not something I should have done."

I nodded slowly, ashamed of my actions. "I know I messed up a few times," I admitted. "I'm not always great at expressing my feelings, but I regret how I treated Mero. I want to remain friends with her if that's possible." I paused, realizing I had been wrong. "So you were right, even if it wasn't to the extent you thought."

Rachnera grunted but otherwise made no move to reply.

After a few moments of silence, I finally mustered up the courage to ask the question on my mind. "So, can you tell me where the fishtail thing came from?"

"From how people look at me," she answered, folding her arms. A rueful grin crossed her face, revealing vicious-looking fangs. "I'm keenly aware of how I appear to most humans. Spiders are something they tend to fear, right? After all, we're predators. Whenever we walk in the city, the one everyone does their best to avoid making eye contact with is me. The quick, panicked glances they give me before their pace picks up speaks volumes."

"So you assumed that just because some ignorant people in the street are scared of your nonhuman features, I would feel disgusted by Mero's too?" I asked, a little shocked and offended. "You should know by now that I'm not affected by things like that."

"It was an accusation made in haste," Rachnera said wearily. "Counselor, what is your reaction to seeing me in my entirety? Do you feel anything?" This time, her tone suggested she was curious to know the answer.

Her exoskeleton was pitch-black and barely visible in the night, illuminated only by the faint glow of the lights from within. The immense bulk of her spider half, with its eight legs that protruded from the ground like blades, Was enough to unnerve any onlooker. The stark contrast of the white skull that glared from her abdomen only served to increase the sense of danger that emanated from her shapely figure.

Her human half did little to put anyone at ease if they were frightened by what lay beneath. While her beauty could never be denied, there was an otherworldly quality to it as well that felt distant and unapproachable. She had a black carapace that ran up her arms like sleeves, and her fingertips ended in sharp claws that resembled miniature versions of her legs. Her lavender hair framed a smooth face with a pointed chin, and six pupil-less red eyes stared back at me, so different from those of humans and most liminals.

As I belatedly became aware that my heart was pounding, I scrutinized every detail. I was filled with a thrilling excitement that left me rooted to the spot, and my eyes were riveted to the person before me. An intense feeling of longing suddenly washed over me, completely overwhelming me and filling me with an inexplicable joy.

"Awe," I breathed, staring straight into her eyes that differed from mine. "What else could I possibly feel?"

Her eyes widened slightly before her brows lowered. "You're telling the truth," she murmured, almost disbelieving. "You're not afraid of me."

I shook my head and replied, "No, not really. I'm all too accustomed to being the weakest one around, even before arriving here. Everyone else is always stronger or wiser than me, or that's how I perceive it. Yes, you could easily kill me, just like anyone else in this house, so I'd rather not waste my energy in fear all the time."

"I think on some level I knew that," Rachnera said. "That you weren't afraid. Honey isn't either; I've learned."

"There you go," I said, lifting my hand casually. "I'm not afraid of you; I'm not trying to hurt Mero or whatever other shady shit you thought I was up to."

Rachnera was quiet for a moment, considering something. "I accused you of all those things, and while I still find parts of you suspicious, I'm beginning to realize that the issues between us are more likely a result of our contrasting personalities and my own biases. Yet, something still niggles at me. You have forgiven me so easily, more so than I believe I would have been capable of had our roles been reversed. It almost feels otherworldly... saintly, yet not quite. I can't quite explain how."

My right hand twitched nervously as I spoke. "I'm not sure what else there is to say," I said softly, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. "We discussed it; we both understand why it happened and what's done is done. I'm not sure what else I can do to make it better."

"Have some self-respect," Rachnera said, her gaze intense yet understanding. "It seems like you don't think much of yourself. Is that the case?"

"Probably," I sighed. It was difficult even mustering the will to deny it. "I've been told I'm too modest for my own good plenty of times."

"I'm not only talking about modesty," Rachnera corrected. She paused, shifting her weight on her legs and averting her gaze momentarily before looking back up. "Aki, I'm done fighting with you, so know I'm not trying to needle you anymore."

"Uh, I believe you," I said slowly.

"Good," she nodded. "Then I have to ask: do you like yourself?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"I don't like repeating myself."

"It's not that; I just," I started, tilting my head and scratching my hair. "That's not a question you hear often."

"I can't imagine this is something that comes up often in casual conversations," Rachnera said with a slight smirk that faded away. "But the question remains the same nonetheless."

"Yeah. Um..." Was it really this hard for me to answer? All I have to say is, 'Yes, I do.' Easy. "Yeah, I guess I do... I've done some good while I was here, and I've made some friends too, which is always good. So they seem to think there's part of me worth liking," I laughed, though my heart wasn't in it.

Rachnera shook her head in disbelief. "Do you know what Mero said about you earlier today before I could depart? She described you as a 'living-learning experience.' Can you even fathom the significance you hold in the eyes of that girl? Or to Suu, Papi, or any other person in that household?"

"I do-"

"They cherish you!" My eyes bulged at the anger in her tone. From her expression, it seemed she was shocked, too, but she kept going regardless. "You so easily just walked into their lives and found a place with them and got them to like you! You handle their crazy personalities so well as if you'd been friends for years! Suu loves you as if you were her father! And, and..." After pausing to take a breath, she rested a hand against her face. "Arachne, I must be really out of sorts to be saying things like that to you, of all people."

"Um... I appreciate the pep talk and all, I guess," I offered weakly. "But I don't need it. We're good. Reconciled and all that jazz. Isn't that enough for now?"

"If that is honestly what you want," Rachnera sighed, her face suddenly showing signs of exhaustion. "Maybe it's for the better since today has already been so emotionally taxing without adding any more to the pile."

"Maybe we'll be able to have a normal conversation in a week or so at this rate," I joked.

"I've long given up on any pretense of 'normal' when it comes to this house," Rachnera snorted. "But the sentiment is appreciated, Counselor."

"I'm just glad we could talk it out," I said with relief. "I can't stand lingering bullshit just because two people don't talk."

"On that, we can agree." She yawned and moved to leave. "On that note, I'm going to bed. And try not to feel strong emotions for at least a week."

"Good call," I nodded. "I'll be in a jiff."

"Star-gazing?" Rachnera asked with a smirk. "I hope you enjoy the company of all two stars you can see."

"The lonely ones shine all the brighter," I said dramatically, talking entirely out of my ass. "G'night, Rachnera."

"Goodnight, Counselor."

The sound of skittering legs drifted further away until they were cut off entirely by the door shutting. Once again, I was alone in the backyard.

Why had she gotten so angry about my actions? I wasn't sure what it was that had upset her, but my self-deprecating comments, my friendships with the people here, or the ease with which I seemed to handle things couldn't have been worth such an emotional outburst. All I had done was be friendly, talk to people, and treat them with the same respect I would want for myself. I never did anything extraordinary; I just listened to their troubles and offered assistance if possible.

I looked up into the sky.

It was only "easy" because I had already taken the time to prepare myself before arriving. I clearly understood which topics to avoid, what to say, and who to give attention to. This was not an impressive feat; it was expected of me. Furthermore, none of my actions changed the outcome of the situation. There were moments of potential chaos or awkwardness, but the situation always ended with everyone content and going on to their next set of shenanigans. So, in the end, did my presence make any difference?

I couldn't see the stars anymore. I'd been pretending the one to the west was my Earth.

What was it she said Mero called me? A "living learning experience". What was it about those three words that caused me such distress? Was it the thought that I was forever branded a cautionary tale in Mero's eyes? Or that I was merely a tool to be used to help others grow? Perhaps I was overanalyzing the situation. The stress of the Takasaka case and the unresolved tension with Rachnera could be making me overreact. I realized that worrying about my place here was completely unnecessary.

I stared into the dark clouds above me, imagining that my home was just beyond them.

After all, I really was nothing special.

To be continued...