Eight-year-old Zenitsu had had a horror of insects at least since the age of five, and it had grown worse with the passing of time. Perhaps the only insects he could tolerate the sight of were small flies and butterflies. He was terrified of bees, he feared grasshoppers, crickets, beetles, worms and moths, and he was even squeamish about ladybugs and tiny ants, especially the red ones.

He hated spiders most of all. No matter the type or size, he was certain that any spider he encountered was capable of poisoning him to death with a single bite, and nothing that his caretaker, with whom he had lived for a year and whom he called Gramps, tried to tell him could convince him otherwise. When he had been six and, upon spying a small spider, had put as much space between it and himself as possible, an older boy had told him that spiders could inject humans with their venom and cause them to swell up, turn purple, and die, and he had been mortally afraid of all spiders since then. So when Zenitsu woke up one spring morning to see a leggy brown house-spider making a home for itself in the easternmost corner of his ceiling, naturally, he screamed.

"ARRRRRRGH! Gramps! Help me!"

He had seen spiders around the house two or three times before. Gramps, though he had tried to reassure Zenitsu that he did not need to fear house spiders, had gotten rid of them for him every time. Now Gramps, leaving the kitchen, where he had been making breakfast, appeared in the bedroom doorway. "What in the world has possessed you, Zenitsu?"

The tearful Zenitsu flew over to grab and cling to his guardian's hand. Too upset to speak for the moment, he pointed to the corner in which the spider sat.

"What is it? Another insect?" Gramps moved in for a better look. "Zenitsu, it's a house spider. How many times do I have to tell you that they won't hurt you?"

"But, Gramps!" Zenitsu wailed. "Even you admitted they have fangs. What's there to stop that thing from biting me? Kill it!"

"I've already told you, house spiders won't bother you unless you disturb them first. And even if it did bite you, the worst it would do was give you an uncomfortable sore."

"That's what you think! I don't want that thing to bite me at all; what if it decides I'm invading its territory?"

Gramps pried his hand free of Zenitsu's grip. "If anything would disturb the spider, it would be all of the noise you're making! Stop screaming, Zenitsu. All that spider wants is a corner to weave its web in. It will use it to catch and feed on other insects; it won't bite you."

Gramps might have thought that the idea of the spider being angered by his screaming would encourage Zenitsu to be quiet, but it only worsened his fears. The last part of what he said did nothing to help. "You think there may be other bugs in my room?"

Gramps gave him a look that meant he was finished here. He turned to leave the room. "I'm going to finish breakfast. Wash your face, get changed and come to eat when you're ready."

Zenitsu seized the old man's hand again. "Gramps, wait! Don't just leave it there. Get rid of it!"

"Don't you have any shame, Zenitsu? A great big eight-year-old boy like you having a fit about a little house spider. It's a useful creature, and it hasn't done anything to hurt you, yet here you are, bellowing for me to kill it! Leave it alone, change your clothes and make your bed."

Zenitsu did feel a little ashamed when Gramps described the situation in that way. He made Zenitsu sound like a mean person who went around having insects murdered for the fun of it, and that wasn't fair. Was it really so bad not to want to risk being poisoned until he swelled up and died? He didn't think so. He trailed Gramps into the kitchen, where he latched onto his waist. "Gramps, don't go! Please don't leave me alone with it. I'm scared!"

Gramps did his best to ignore Zenitsu in favor of cooking. Zenitsu persisted, though, and after a minute or two, Gramps plunked his cooking spoon down with a heavy sigh, a gesture that Zenitsu took as a good sign. "Zenitsu! Let go of me, stand up straight and stop crying."

Zenitsu moved off of Gramps and did his best to get a grip on himself. "Y-yes, sir." He hated the pitiful whimpering sound of his own voice. He expected to be rescued by Gramps yet again, and he knew that after the feelings of relief would come a sense of burning, aching shame. He wanted to be braver, more like a normal boy of eight years old, and he told himself after every big panicked outburst that he would be brave someday. He had to be brave someday, for the thought of being a grown man who cried at the sight of an insect or lived in fear of night monsters was almost too awful to bear. For now, though, ensuring his own safety from the venomous fangs of the spider took priority.

Gramps went on. "I'm not going to kill that spider for you. But to get you to stop pestering me, I'll walk you through getting rid of it. Whether you kill it or catch it and put it outside is your choice so long as you do the work yourself."

This wasn't at all what Zenitsu had hoped for. "But, Gramps," he cried, "I can't do that!"

Gramps folded his arms. "Why can't you do it, Zenitsu?"

"Because I'm scared of the spider!" Did that really need to be explained?

"Do you expect to go through life letting others handle everything for you? If the spider was dangerous, I would be lenient with you, but you have nothing to be afraid of. It's time I taught you to fight some of your own battles, Zenitsu. If you want that spider gone, you'll need to get rid of it yourself."

"But. . ." Zenitsu didn't see how he would leave a battle with a spider alive. How could Gramps be so heartless? Didn't he care whether Zenitsu lived or died?

"I'm offering you my help. Either you get rid of it with your own hands, or it stays where it is."

Gramps turned back to the stove. It was easy to see that he didn't intend to yield. Zenitsu's heart sank, but leaving the spider there on his ceiling wasn't an option. "Okay, I'll try to get rid of it. Please help me, Gramps!"

"Make your bed and change your clothes. We'll handle it after we eat."

"But what if it jumps on me while I'm making my bed? What if while we're eating it crawls onto the floor and I can't see where it is till it's on my foot?"

"Zenitsu, get moving!"

Zenitsu knew that when Gramps's eyes flashed the way they were doing now, it was dangerous to keep trying his luck. He scurried off to obey, though that day he must have broken a record for the fastest child in Japan to make a bed and get dressed.

He did not have much of an appetite at breakfast. Gramps seemed to take an eternity with his food. Zenitsu watched him eat as though there were nothing in the world for him to be concerned about. Poor Gramps; he just doesn't know. When the spider kills me, he'll be really sad, but it will be too late to be sorry then. I hope God forgives him and he can find somebody to take care of him when he's too old to get around.

At last, when the dishes were in the sink, Gramps instructed Zenitsu to fetch the four-legged wooden stool and drag it into his room. When Zenitsu entered the room with it, Gramps was waiting for him there. He had brought one of his sandals, a lidded glass jar, a long-handled scrubbing brush, and the kitchen broom.

Zenitsu eyed those items, then regarded the spider, who had not left its place in the corner as he had feared it would. "Do I have to catch the spider with those things?"

"You don't need to use all of them; I'm just giving you a few different options. The broom is long enough that if you stand on the edge of your bed, you should be able to reach the ceiling and sweep the spider off. If you would rather knock it down with something smaller so you can better see where the spider goes when you brush at it, you'll need to climb up on the stool and use the scrubbing-brush. If the spider falls to the floor, catch it and scoop it into this jar with the lid so you can put it outside or smash it with this sandal."

All of those options would either put Zenitsu in far closer proximity to the spider than he was comfortable with or put him at risk of losing it, setting it free to roam across his floor. Zenitsu gave Gramps one last imploring look, but he was unyielding. After a great deal of painful consideration, he gulped and asked, "If. . .if I get on the stool, will you hold it for me so it won't fall over?"

Gramps pushed the stool until it was close - far too close, Zenitsu thought - to the spider's corner. As requested, he crouched behind it and gripped the front right leg with one hand, the rear left leg in the other to hold it steady. Zenitsu, on shaky legs, with the scrubbing brush in hand, climbed up onto the stool. There, just feet away from his face, the long-legged brown spider lounged on its web without a care about the boy who was so miserable because of its presence.

"Go on, Zenitsu," came Gramps's voice from below. "Do what you went up to do. Take a swing at it."

Zenitsu gulped again. His palms, pressed against the wood of the brush handle, were damp with sweat. In obedience of Gramps, he took a feeble swing. The brush did not even come close to the web.

"When you do a task half-heartedly, you only draw it out. Aim for the spider and hit it."

Zenitsu wanted to be rid of the spider, so he swung in earnest. At the very last second, though, he faltered, lost his grip on the brush as well as his balance, and, even though Gramps was holding it in place for him, toppled off of the stool.

"GAH-ARGH! Gramps!"

"Zenitsu -" Gramps began to reprove, but Zenitsu was not listening anymore. He did not know whether the spider was still on its web, on the end of the brush, or on the floor with him, nor did he want to stay behind to see. He scrambled to his feet, flew out of that room, and burst out of the house. Gramps's shout followed him. "Zenitsu!"

Zenitsu fled into the strip of forest near the house. Once past the first wall of trees, he went on running in hopes that the foliage would swallow him up. Gramps was sure to come after him, and though he was an old man, he was neither weak nor slow. Zenitsu wasn't certain he could outrun him, but he had gotten a headstart on him, and the forest might serve as a good hiding place. So he didn't slow down until tiredness forced him to. A few moments later, he stumbled to a stop.

He thought he could hear faint, distant sounds - Gramps's voice, perhaps, and a rustling of foliage that meant he was making his way through the forest. He sank down between the roots of a tree and stared miserably at his hands. Even if he could avoid being found out here, he had to go home eventually. He wanted to be home. He had never run off like this before. What would Gramps say to him when he went back?

"But I couldn't do what Gramps wanted me to do," Zenitsu said aloud to the forest. "I can't get close to a spider. I'm just too scared."

The chattering of birds was the only reply he received. He pulled his knees up to his chest and considered his situation. If he hid himself out here long enough, Gramps might relent and remove the spider for him so that there wouldn't be anymore fuss about it. But Gramps was a stubborn man; that plan might not work as Zenitsu hoped it would, and he was likely to be angry at Zenitsu for causing him so much trouble. If he returned now, Gramps would be irritated with him, albeit not as angry as he would be if he prolonged his stay in the forest, and he would probably march him back indoors and insist that he face the spider. Then again, he might be so exasperated with Zenitsu for running off that he would leave him to deal with the spider by himself.

I can't stay out here forever, Zenitsu reasoned to himself at last. I'd better just go back and beg Gramps to get rid of the spider for me. He'll have to understand that I can't do it. If he won't give in, I'll spend as much time as I can outside and hope the spider dies soon - and doesn't lay any eggs. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. I don't know what I'll do about nighttime. Gramps probably won't let me sleep outside. Maybe he'll let me spend nights in the front room.

As he took a step, he felt something more delicate and wispy than the tip of a feather tickling the back of his bare lower leg. He nearly flew out of his skin. "ARRRGGGH! A spider!"

The culprit was not a spider, but a sizable mosquito. Zenitsu, unwilling to touch it with his hands, snatched the nearest stick and whacked at his leg until he had knocked it away. A mosquito, of course, would not poison him to death. But, he realized, forests were full of insects of all kinds. How could he have forgotten that fact - or the fact that spiders could live in forests, too?

Having a single spider in one room at home couldn't be worse than being surrounded by insects, most of which he could not see. Zenitsu broke into a run again. There was no question about it - he had to get to the safety of the living room. As he ran, it seemed that every few seconds something brushed against and tickled his cheek, one of his hands, the back of his neck or a leg. Each time, he slapped frantically at the spot in question if he could reach it.

Insects were everywhere, menacing him from all directions. All of his running did not seem to carry him any closer to home - he couldn't recognize the layout of the trees and shrubbery in front of him. His focus was torn between his need to find his way and his need to fend off the tickling, teasing threats of the forest. He had wanted to escape Gramps, to hide from him and from the spider, and he had done such a good job of hiding that now he was lost.

Eventually, Zenitsu came to a stop. Because he was afraid to sit down in the grass, he collapsed against the nearest tree, hugging it to keep himself upright, and gave way to his terrified despair. The sobs came hard and fast. He knew that he wasn't being quiet about his crying, but no one was present to make him feel ashamed of bawling, anyway.

"I'm going to die out here! I'll never get back home. A spider's going to bite me and fill me up with poison, and I'll swell up and turn purple, and once I'm dead and rotting, all the other bugs will come and eat my body up!"

He did not hear Gramps approaching him. Zenitsu took no notice of him until he felt a calloused hand closing around his wrist. It didn't feel like the crawling of an insect, so he was more startled than frightened at being grabbed before he turned around to see Gramps's face.

"Zenitsu!"

Instead of pulling him up to give him a shake and vigorously scold him or dragging him home, Gramps sat down on the ground. Before Zenitsu had time to wonder what in the world he was doing, he was yanked downwards. He found himself lying stomach-first across Gramps's lap, with his face to the grass. An elbow came to rest upon the small of his back to pin him in place.

"Gramps! Wh -"

He was cut off by the feeling of those bony fingers pushing themselves beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a single jerk, the underwear and his breeches were taken down until they were at his knees, leaving his backside exposed to the cool air. Zenitsu went rigid with horror and embarrassment.

A loud CRACK accompanied the painful impact of a solid slap to his rear end. Zenitsu shrieked. He twisted around to stare into his guardian's face. He had been spanked and had had his ears pulled a few times in his life, but not by Gramps, who had never struck him before.

Gramps's hard hand fell a second time, then a third, bringing with it fiery pain both times and making Zenitsu cry out. "OW! Ouch! Gramps, stop, that hurts!"

"It has to hurt!" Four more searing slaps came in from above, each one forcing a scream out of Zenitsu. "You are never to run off like that again, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir!" As Gramps lit into his bare skin three more times, Zenitsu kicked at the ground, and fresh tears began to flow. "I'm sorry! Please stop, Gramps!"

Still the punishing hand did not relent. At the moment, the spiders and the forest insects were out of Zenitsu's mind. Nothing felt real except for the sting of that hard hand and the scorching embarrassment of having his breeches and underwear at his knees.

"You've been working yourself up into insanity, Zenitsu! By taking off into the forest because you were upset, you only made yourself feel worse. You didn't give a thought to what you were doing or where you were going; it's a wonder you're still in one piece! If I let you up, I'll expect you to listen to me and not to try to run off again. I want your word!"

Zenitsu did not need to be ordered twice. "Yes, Gramps, I'm sorry! I'll listen, I swear. I promise I won't run off again; please don't hit me anymore!"

To his great relief, his promise brought the spanking to an end. His underwear and breeches slid up into place. Gramps helped him to sit upright on his lap, then, as Zenitsu sobbed, put his arms around him and held him close.

It took two or three minutes for the sobs to become sniffles. Zenitsu could have indulged in feeling sorry for himself. His bottom still smarted, and he was a little shaken by the fact that without warning, Gramps had actually raised a hand to him - not once, but at least a dozen and a half times. Being hugged by Gramps, though, and feeling his hand working gently, steadily up and down his spine in a massage felt better than a good wallowing in self-pity would have.

He couldn't truthfully say that he didn't think he had deserved a spanking, in any case. Along with being a cowardly crybaby, as usual, he had put Gramps through far too much today by taking off into the forest. He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and, when he felt he could do so without quavering too badly, spoke. "I'm sorry for running away, Gramps."

Gramps began to stroke Zenitsu's hair. After a moment or two, he gave a little sigh. "You caused your sensei a good amount of worry by flying off like that. For once I can say it's a good thing you scream loudly enough to wake the dead. Once you started crying, it was easier for me to find you."

Zenitsu blushed, but admitted, small-voiced, "I really needed you to find me. I was lost."

"It's no wonder you were, the way you ran."

"Are you going to smack me every time I act like a crybaby from now on?" Zenitsu ventured to ask.

"No, I don't think that would be productive. I hope I won't have to lay a hand on you again in the future, and if I do, it will be to keep you from hurting yourself or someone else."

Zenitsu relaxed with relief. Then, however, his gaze drifted down to settle on his hands.

"I wanted to be brave about the spider, Gramps, really. I just couldn't do it. I'm so weak, and I hate it."

The hand that stroked his hair left it to begin traveling up and down his back, tracing warm pathways over it. "Zenitsu, you're a good boy. I know you want to become braver. I'd be glad if you could take my word for it when I told you some of the things you are afraid of aren't worth fearing. But you won't be able to change overnight. There's time enough for you to grow older and get past some of your fears. While we wait for that to happen, you will need to battle the things you fear even though it will be unpleasant. Your sensei will be behind you to push you whenever you waver; that's what I'm here for.

"Don't belittle yourself for feeling afraid, Zenitsu, if you're putting in the work of battling what you fear. A brave person is not someone who has no fears, but a person who knows he has something to risk and is willing to risk it."

For a short while, Zenitsu sat and considered his sensei's words. Then he shifted around, leaned in and put his arms around the old man.

"I love you, Gramps," he mumbled into his shoulder. "Thank you."

ooooOOOOOOOOOooooooo

"Zenitsu, are you sure you want to let it go? Completely certain?"

It had taken him a few minutes, but Zenitsu had snagged the spider and its web with the bristles of the scrubbing brush, removed them from the ceiling corner, and gotten the spider into the jar. Now he stood in the back doorway with the jar in his hands and regarded his tiny captive almost fondly. I wouldn't have gotten in trouble with Gramps if not for the spider, but then I guess we wouldn't have gotten to have a nice talk like we did, either. Closed up in the jar where it can't get to me, it doesn't look that scary. If it has fangs, they're so tiny I can't see them. Gramps is right - it's a shame to kill a living thing that isn't trying to hurt me.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Understand that if you let it go outdoors and then change your mind, it will be much harder to catch it. I'm willing to kill it for you if you're feeling squeamish since you did the work of capturing it."

"It's all right, Gramps. I want to let it go."

Crouching down on the threshold of the door, Zenitsu removed the lid from his jar, which he placed on its side in the grass. He gently tapped the bottom until the spider danced its way out of the jar. "Go on, spider. Be free, little one. You'll like it better out here than in my room; it's quieter."

The spider crawled on until it vanished between two clusters of grass. Zenitsu got up and turned to rejoin Gramps in the kitchen, shutting the door behind himself. Gramps's hand came to rest on his head, eliciting a deep blush of pleasure.

"Good work, Zenitsu. If a spider ever comes into your room again, will you know how to handle it?"

"Yes." Zenitsu doubted he would ever grow to like spiders, and if - heaven forbid - another one ever appeared on his ceiling, he would probably need Gramps to be there in the room with him while he attended to it. But he would survive so long as he knew how to capture it and put it outdoors.

I can handle one bug. At least I don't have to sleep outside, where there are probably hundreds of them. And my spider's going to be one of them. Oh, well. Like Gramps said, once you let a bug outside, it's almost impossible to find it, so that's one spider I'll never see again. I'm safe in here.

And so Zenitsu was content until a thought occurred to him: Just where had that spider come from to begin with? He was old enough to know that living things, even tiny ones, did not just materialize.

"Gramps?. . . Bugs can't get into the house from outside, can they?"

Gramps closed his eyes and began to knead his forehead with his fingertips.