Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned here.
This story was made with the sole purpose of entertainment and is not intended to be taken seriously in any social, political or religious context under any circumstances.
As such, the actions and/or viewpoints expressed by the characters in this story do not automatically reflect the opinions of the author.
This purely fictional tale is not meant to neither educate nor serve as any kind of moral example to follow by whomever consumes this type of content willingly.
"Shikimori's Not Just a Cutie" and its characters created by Keigo Maki.
"Spider-Man" and its characters belong to "Marvel Comics".
Izumi Is Not Just A Spider!
VI
The Black Tarantula
One month.
For one month, Spider-Man has defended the city of Hino and its inhabitants.
During that time, the arachnid savior became a popular figure in the community.
Every day, special reports appeared on television, interviews with eyewitnesses surfaced, plus the occasional video providing filler commentary about the subject.
But most importantly, the town was retrieving its former glory.
The bandits from the 'Tarantulas' gang decreased their felonious activities. People began going out past ten o'clock, whereas more stores remained open after said curfew.
Thanks to the masked man without fear.
Or so claimed the local news organizations, which posted numerous articles detailing the vigilante's amazing deeds.
'MASKED MAN FOILS ROBBERY!' read one headline on a low-traffic website.
Looking at his cellphone, Izumi scrolled down a bit further before finding another article.
'COSTUMED HERO SAVES ELDERLY COUPLE FROM CAR ACCIDENT!'
While the extensive media coverage seemed rather flattering, he couldn't process the idea of turning into a local celebrity.
Because he wasn't doing it for fame or medals.
Yet, the incessant gossiping meant that his actions had caused a noticeable impact in the city. Each sensationalist article ultimately equated to one or two innocents who could keep living a normal, tranquil life.
"Way to go, Spider-Man…" lowering his phone, Izumi mumbled, sounding pleased, happy.
While gazing upwards, he kicked his feet off the edge of the building he sat on.
'A small break from patrol duties can't harm anyone, right?'
Fighting bad guys at such nocturnal hours almost made him forget how beautiful the night was.
Stars and constellations ignited the sapphire heavens, unbothered by the few clouds sailing through the starry ocean above.
The scenery surely aroused Izumi's imagination as he went on his own mental journey.
He thought, if Spider-Man continued his endeavors, the quiet, peaceful town he dearly remembered would return.
Maybe, a world where transhuman protectors like him weren't needed was possib-
"Help!"
Izumi quickly stood up, once he heard the thunderous cry echoing across the neighborhood.
He took fast glances around the uneven terrain, scanning for whomever conjured the desperate call.
Alas, his vision didn't locate any other soul nearby. The rooftops surrounding him were empty, lifeless beneath the pale glow of a gibbous moon.
"I didn't imagine that, did I?" Izumi muttered again, resuming his search. "It sounded close, but I can't tell from which direction."
"Somebody! Please!"
"I knew it!" on cue, the second cry filled the nightly breeze, which helped Izumi find its origin.
It sounded below, only a block away from his current position.
Without wasting time, Izumi hopped onto the alleys beneath, rapidly diving feet-first.
A moment later, he stretched his arm, and fired a web line toward the upper corner of an adjacent building.
Thus, he swung forth with moderate impulse, traversing the narrow street.
Soon, Izumi reached the ground anew. Hence, he released the rope, then used the lingering momentum to jog ahead.
Leaving the shadowy alley, he stopped and stood on the sidewalk, where he met a lonely figure.
An uneasy-looking teenager, who sported a significantly rugged appearance.
His clothes were torn, soiled, not unlike his dirt-stained expression. His dull eyes and lips set in a hard line evidenced his ailing condition.
"S-Spider-Man!" the anxious teen exclaimed. "Thank God for you…"
"Are you alright?" Izumi asked. "Were you the one calling for help?"
"Yes! I'm fine, but my grandfather-! He-… I think he had a stroke! He just stopped moving and fell to the ground!"
Izumi blinked behind his lenses. "A stroke?"
This was new. During his previous rescues, the authorities provided the specialized care he couldn't.
He possessed the tools and knowledge to treat minor injuries.
But a stroke…
"Have you called an ambulance yet?"
"N-No, I haven't! I just-… I don't know what to do. Please, help him!"
When the other teen unexpectedly started weeping, Izumi felt a strong guilt envelop his heart.
As far as he knew, his arachnid powers didn't include any healing abilities.
Perhaps, calling the ambulance himself might've been the better alternative. Although, he ignored how much time had passed since the man suffered the stroke.
Every second counted.
He may not magically cure the boy's grandfather.
Nonetheless, he could take him to a hospital, faster than an ambulance could.
"Where's your grandfather?"
"He's up there!" the teenager pointed at the building in front of them. "On the top floor. You can get through that open window."
Izumi's sight followed the command. Quietly, he observed the bland edification.
A four stories-tall box, seemingly abandoned long ago. Its façade suffered ample erosion.
He couldn't see light inside. Furthermore, most windows were blocked by corroded planks of wood, except for one near the top left corner which the teen mentioned.
Eventually, it made sense.
This teenager was homeless, and his grandfather probably was too.
Being that the case, proper medical services remained beyond their options. Nowadays, hardly anyone cared about vagrants like them.
Regardless, Spider-Man cared, so he would save that man, no matter the cost.
"It's alright, I'll get your grandfather to the hospital."
Therefore, Izumi swiftly approached the decayed building.
Squatting, he jumped, reaching the window on the highest floor easily.
Alighting upon the frame, he entered the eerily-serene place.
A broad pillar of moonlight arrived alongside him. Pitch-black darkness soaked the walls. The gloomy room lacked life. The sickly old man needing rescue stayed hidden from the naked eye.
"Hello?" Izumi's hesitant voice pierced through the churning obscurity.
"Greetings, Spider-Man…" a low, spine-chilling response welcomed him.
Tensing instinctually, Izumi surveyed the environment again, seeking the source of the ethereal answer.
His gaze landed on a table at the center, with two chairs opposite to each other.
A mysterious, burly man occupied of those chairs.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
He resembled a shadow given form. Yet, his jacket, and the nefarious spider silhouette sewn across his mask, presented a pristine white coloration.
"I must admit," the stranger continued. "Following the rumors, and all the talk on the internet, I thought you would be… taller…"
Izumi neither replied nor moved. He just studied the man before him. Later, he remembered his objective within these premises.
"The boy's grandfather…" he said sternly.
"There is no 'grandfather'," the stranger responded, almost sounding nonchalant. "That was a little white lie to get your attention. I apologize."
Additional silence elapsed while they exchanged glares.
'So he lied…'
"Please, have a seat," the man calmly gestured towards the empty chair. "We have plenty to discuss."
Not quite knowing how he should react, Izumi chose to comply, but only until the stranger's intentions and identity became clear.
Slowly, he walked forth, then cautiously sat on the vacant chair, never taking his vision off the mysterious man as he did.
"Normally," the stranger began. "I keep myself occupied with more pressing matters. But lately, my men have become uncapable of fulfilling their assigned duties. They speak in fear of a masked vigilante with… inhuman abilities. One who is rather fond of interrupting our operations."
That was when Izumi noticed the curious objects settled over the table.
A bottle containing a golden fluid which glistened by the moon's shine, plus two glasses beside it.
Though faint, he recognized the unmistakable scent of alcohol. It tickled his nose in an unpleasant way.
Afterwards, the stranger grabbed the bottle, pouring the amber liquid into both glasses. He kept one, and he slid the other across the table.
"It is safe to drink, I promise."
Izumi left the beverage untouched. Its closeness now emanated a nauseating stench.
Despite trying some amazake during new year's festival, he didn't understand people's craving for alcohol.
If he ever were to consume intoxicating substances, he surely wouldn't do it in company of a complete stranger.
"You're with the Tarantulas…" Izumi said sternly, gazing forward anew.
"No, I am their leader. I am 'The Black Tarantula'."
The man lifted his mask, uncovering his mouth, revealing a well-defined, fair-skinned chin with a short, scruffy beard.
Ensuing that, he rose his drink and gulped it down swiftly. Consequently, he concealed his face once more.
"Your… 'heroic' deeds are costing me a lot of money and influence. I would like you to stop interfering with my business."
Clenching his fists, Izumi scowled beneath his mask.
"S-Sorry, but I cannot." his response came suddenly, mimicking a reflex. He mentally kicked himself upon uttering such answer.
'Apologizing for doing the right thing? I need to practice better comebacks…'
"We don't have to be enemies, Spider-Man. As I said earlier, I am aware of your… special capabilities. In that sense, we are not so different."
"I'm not like you," Izumi retorted hastily. "You're a criminal."
"Well, to each his own…" the Black Tarantula paused, leaning back slightly. "We're both big fish in a small pond, even if I chose my path, and you chose the way of the hero."
Izumi maintained his lips sealed. Patiently, quietly, he listened to those psychotic ramblings.
"Let me tell you one thing. People love heroes, in tales of amazing fantasy. The truth is, our world is not made for heroes.
Sure, they find you amusing today. They speak highly of you and make your name known throughout the land. But have you wondered, what will happen the day you're not able to help them?
In spite of everything you've done, they will eventually hate you, the people of this city. You can save them a thousand times, yet they will only remember the one time you couldn't. Because something they love more than a hero, is to see a hero fail, fall. Die trying…"
'Die trying…'
The last sentence echoed in Izumi's mind.
He never considered the possibility of not returning home. What would his friends do? What would his parents say if the news came to light? Would he be remembered as Izumi Yuuki? Or as Spider-Man?
The thought elicited uncomfortable shivers.
"In the end, you'll be left with nothing. So, why bother?"
Izumi held his tongue momently. His sight navigated the floor while he selected his words. This time, he elected a meaningful answer.
"Because it is the right thing to do," he said earnestly, looking up. "The Tarantulas attack, hurt and steal from innocent people. I won't stand idly while that happens."
The Black Tarantula shook his head faintly, chuckling prior to giving his own reply.
"You're an amazing creature, Spider-Man. A man of principles, I can respect that. Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to jeopardize my operations in this city, which is why I'd like to make you a proposal."
Unexpectedly, Tarantula stood from his chair. Sensing a shift in the conversation, Izumi shortly followed suit.
Then, the young hero noticed the vast difference between them.
Tarantula easily surpassed his height by almost a hole head. He was a giant of broad shoulders, who very much tripled his muscle mass.
Trembling, Izumi gulped anxiously.
"Fight me."
"W-What?"
"Let's settle this," Tarantula brought his hands together and cracked his knuckles, producing a sound not unlike wood splitting. "One on one. Man to man. If you defeat me, I will abandon this city and take the Tarantulas with me. Our paths won't cross again. But, if I win, Spider-Man will leave on the same terms."
Izumi widened his eyes.
Admittedly, the offer seemed solid, assuming the criminal would keep his word, an outcome for which he possessed no guarantee.
Besides, honoring the challenge meant he'd confront a truly fearsome foe.
"How do I know you'll keep your promise?"
"In the same way I know you'll keep yours, I give you my word… For the sake of courtesy, I'll allow you to begin."
"B-Begin?"
"The benefit of drawing first blood belongs to you."
"You-You want me to hit you?"
Remaining speechless, the Black Tarantula nodded.
"Oh… A-Alright then…" though doubtful, Izumi ultimately agreed.
The previous weeks fighting bandits made him less hesitant to throw punches. In the beginning, he wasn't a fan.
Nevertheless, employing his powers for a good purpose lessened the negative effects of the violence he enacted.
"Here I go, prepare yourself!"
Hence, when he fully processed the situation, Izumi rapidly swung his right fist towards Tarantula's jaw.
He only harnessed the necessary force, as he did countless times before. Given his frequent encounters with bad guys, he already had it appropriately measured.
Just enough strength so he could knock him out.
It was a clean hit. A loud echo reverberated across the room.
However, the Black Tarantula didn't even flinch…
Paling, Izumi watched motionless, awestruck while his enemy endured.
This shouldn't be. The most fearsome thugs that haunted the city were put down by his blows.
His scalp tingled achingly. His arachnid sense screamed in peril.
Alas, he couldn't move. His legs became like stone.
"Is that all you got? Fine… My turn."
A fast blur seized his vision. He heard it first, a noisy crunch, and the pain manifested soon after. A numbing, paralyzing pain taking over his whole face.
Feeling an abrupt push, Izumi stumbled a few steps rearwards.
Shock consumed him entirely, whereas his fingertips unconsciously ghosted upon his concealed nose.
He couldn't breathe. A warm wetness slowly oozed out of his nostrils. He also perceived a soft whistling whenever he inhaled.
'H-How is it possible!? I didn't even see him move…'
"Do not insult me by holding back," Tarantula said coldly. "On your feet."
Hastily, clumsily, Izumi retrieved his footing, groaning by cause of the lingering ache.
Propelling himself onwards with all his might, he threw another quick hook.
Which solely touched the wind since the Black Tarantula just sidestepped, effortlessly evading the attack.
"Slow."
Irregardless, Izumi immediately launched an additional jab using his left fist.
Unfortunately, it missed its target too…
"Undisciplined."
The restless teen continued swinging desperately against his adversary.
Natheless, his endeavors were fruitless, because the other man somehow kept dodging through the barrage.
"Weak…"
Suddenly, Izumi's punch finally connected.
His coiled hand was caught in Tarantula's palm.
"Now I wonder why my men fear you."
At that moment, the pressure surrounding Izumi's hand steadily augmented.
Wincing, yelping, he clamped his free palm around Tarantula's wrist, hopelessly attempting to remove the bone-crushing grip.
But the criminal's grasp remained fixed, unmoving.
The increasing torment helped Izumi understand, the Black Tarantula greatly outclassed his strength…
Swiftly, a second wave of pain came.
Oxygen forcibly escaped Izumi when Tarantula's knuckles sank into his stomach.
Something exploded within his gut. His eyelids sharply peeled, and his knees wobbled, making him fall onto the floor.
Instinctively, his arms enveloped his injured midriff.
Parting his lips, Izumi let out a deafening, hoarse coughing. He cursed the cloth obstructing his respiration.
And then, as if his thoughts had reached the real world, he felt a brusque tug atop his head.
Shortly later, cool air grazed his skin, so Izumi realized…
He was unmasked.
"Just as I thought," looking down upon him, Tarantula growled. "Nothing but a boy, playing in a sandbox. One who has yet to learn…"
No further words were spoken.
Instead, Tarantula's boot abruptly collided with Izumi's jaw.
Disconnecting him from the ground, the powerful impact sent him flying backwards across the room.
Wood creaked sonorously. Several splinters scattered over the surroundings once the young hero broke through an old door, entering a different habitation.
Badly beaten, Izumi laid supine on the floor, barely moving.
His hazy sight found the unpolished tiles of the ceiling. A sour taste soaked his palate.
Even while submerged in a profound daze, he strenuously lifted his vision, instantaneously spotting Tarantula crossing the damaged doorframe.
"I believed you to be a mercenary, or even some sort of spirit of vengeance. But reality is often disappointing."
'He's way stronger than me, and faster! I have to think of something!'
Subsequently, Izumi raised his torso, assuming a sitting position. He projected his hands forth, and unleashed an incessant stream of webs against Tarantula.
The silky webbing speedily expanded around the other man, binding his arms, akin to a constricting snake capturing its prey.
Thusly, Izumi shakily got up anew, hiding the enormous suffering which his hurried motions brought.
"Ah, yes," Tarantula commented calmly, inspecting the tethers restraining him. "I was told, and I have seen it on the videos. The Spider-Man does whatever a spider can. And yet… It is not enough!"
Severed threads flew everywhere, eliciting a noisy, ripping sound when the Black Tarantula, by simply bringing his arms upwards, broke the gossamer trapping him.
'N-No… It cannot be…'
Unfathomable dismay possessed Izumi. His frightfulness became sheer horror.
He couldn't believe what he witnessed.
His webs weren't mere silk. They took him around the city repeatedly, and served to contain burly, manic criminals.
Meanwhile, the Black Tarantula tore them apart like nothing…
The terrible surprise clouded his judgement, suppressed his most basic foresight capabilities.
Hence, he didn't react after Tarantula interrupted his line of thinking with another blow.
Izumi couldn't do anything, except for remaining standing.
His mind went completely blank. He was cornered, without escape between the hammer and the anvil.
"You're not a hero!" Tarantula unexpectedly exclaimed. Another attack followed his venomous statement. "You're not even a man! A man has the strength to defend his home! The people he loves!"
The people he loves…
Unexplainably, his diminishing lucidity summoned Izumi's dearest memories.
He saw his parents together, smiling, waiting for him at home.
Punch.
His school appeared. At the entrance, Inuzuka, Hachimitsu, Nekozaki and Kamiya called him enthusiastically.
Punch.
Ensuing a graceful spin, a long mane of pink hair waved in the ethereal breeze, revealing Shikimori's gentle gaze meeting his.
Sporting a relaxed, pleased expression, she stretched her hand to him, invited him to an exciting adventure far away.
Although, Tarantula's last strike sharply shattered the blissful illusion.
So Izumi fell, face-first onto the floor.
He unwittingly drooled while the cool tiles beneath caressed his bruised cheek.
Not a single ounce of strength remained within him. The excruciating throes from defeat seized his entire body.
"Sh… Shi-… Shiki-…"
"What are you mumbling about?"
As he struggled to remember his own name, Izumi sensed a tight grip encompass his neck.
Next, a mysterious force lifted him, leaving a bloody stain that signaled his resting spot.
He hung limp above the ground, unmoving, mimicking a stringless puppet.
Baring his teeth, Izumi slowly clamped one palm around his captor's arm.
Predictably, his tired, half-lidded eyes encountered the Black Tarantula, who simply held him like a fishing catch.
The pressure surrounding his throat grew tighter, turning the action of breathing into a painful sacrifice.
'I can't breathe… He's really going to kill me. I'm really going to die… I don't want to die…'
"Remember this pain…" Tarantula said lowly.
Briefly later, an additional, extraordinary event took place.
Tarantula's eyes began lighting up with a deep, crimson glow. They resembled hot metal pieces, emanating a searing brightness.
Unable to fight back, Izumi helplessly stared while his enemy opened the gates of hell before him.
When less than a second elapsed, the ominous shining became a pair of powerful beams which struck Izumi's chest, burning his costume, and flesh…
The maddening agony followed closely.
Thick smoke clouds filled the area, caused by the potent blast, plus the crumbling debris falling beside him.
The vermillion rays pushed him with enough force to make him bulldoze through the sturdy wall behind.
Therefore, he went outside the building. The wind raged around him as he fell. Numerous chunks of rubble followed his downwards trajectory.
Though his descent wouldn't last long, and soon, Izumi's back crashed against a solid surface once more.
His nape brusquely hit the concrete below. His spine creaked achingly upon landing.
Stillness ensued.
"Ugh…" nearly unconscious, the young hero laid immobile, sorely lacking strength, feeling only pain.
His blurry, tunneled vision located the vast cerulean of the night sky. The moon shimmered over him, silently watched his demise.
That is, until a looming shadow obscured its silver glow…
Even with the immense malaise plaguing him, the unlucky teenager recognized Tarantula's towering silhouette occupying his flank.
However, Izumi had no energy left to even feign valor.
He was at the Black Tarantula's mercy…
"If you still draw breath, go home," the almighty criminal announced stoically. "Live a normal life, and stay out of my business. Or I will be forced to return, and you won't survive a second encounter…"
Before Izumi could even whine in protest, Tarantula's heel rapidly impacted his face, and darkness wholly consumed his world.
The Tarantulas suffered through a painfully long night.
It took one man with power and courage to force them into hiding. To make them question all the previous life choices.
Their headquarters, the old warehouse at Tokyo, provided a safe haven for such lamentations.
Numerous gang members gathered there, carrying out various tasks under the weak shop lights flickering upon them.
They transported boxes which harbored unsavory contents inside.
Near the back of the decaying building, many cars were lined up, taken from law-abiding citizens to be ransacked or sold for half their normal prize.
Meanwhile, who didn't occupy themselves with productive activities delved in casual conversation.
But then, loud, metallic sounds disrupted the calm atmosphere.
Immediately, every single soul within the place prepared to welcome the new arrival.
Rifles and pistols were swiftly drawn out, all pointed at the same target.
The wide roller door at the front of the warehouse suddenly coiled upwards, allowing entrance to a mysterious figure.
In that instant, the felons collectively lowered their weapons.
Confused stares and questioning whispers were shared among them, once they recognized their master, the Black Tarantula, casually entering the premises.
He spoke no words, addressed no one during his quiet walk.
He simply approached the rusted work table at the center of the warehouse. A wet, wrinkled piece of cloth hung from his clenched fist.
Reaching his destination, Tarantula tossed the mysterious fabric onto the table.
Everyone's attention was directed to their master's trophy.
The Spider-Man's mask, torn and bloodied, seemingly, forcibly removed while its owner still drew breath.
Puzzlement became shock. It spread to every goon in the vicinity.
"Spider-Man is no more!" Tarantula shouted. His voice firm, albeit somewhat monotone.
His men just listened, akin to a cultist leader revealing the truth for his zealots.
"Now get back to work…"
With that, the Black Tarantula spun, and left from where he came, leaving behind dozens of bewildered, yet impressed bandits that would definitely honor his command.
Thank you for reading!
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I'll see you all again when the time is right, true believers!
Excelsior!