2. Spider Woman Yurakne (6)
2. Spider Woman Yurakne (6)
Yurakne had joined the circus five months ago.
It might be hard to believe now, but...
when she first arrived, relations between the troupe leader and his performers were not bad at all.
In fact, the members were quite fond of their leader.
"Everyone, a new member of our family has joined today! Miss Yurakne! Please step forward!"
"Ah, hello. I'm Yurakne."
"Oooh! The boss finally did it! We've got ourselves a female member!"
"Huh? Dunedol, what about Miss Ella?"
"The Deputy Leader is just a kid, heheh."
"Heh heh, you'll be in big trouble if she hears you, shh!"
The leader was different from anyone she had ever met.
He neither feared nor loathed the monstrous performers.
He always wore a gentle smile, joked with them without pretense, and treated them with easy warmth.
"Miss Ella! Where's that welcome cake?"
"Hey, that thing... you've been stuffing your face with it for three solid days on the way here...."
"Oh! So that's what we've been having for dessert every night?"
"...Pathetic."
It seemed the Deputy Leader Ella held him in low regard, but back then Yurakne simply chalked that up to the prickly attitude of a girl her age.
"Boss, want to come with me to the market after breakfast?"
"Heh heh, I'd like that."
Yurakne liked the leader a little more than the other members did.
She had spent two years hiding in the forest after losing her husband.
She had thought all the warmth in her heart was gone...
but apparently some ember still remained, ready to be shared again.
"Boss! Could you take a look at my juggling?"
"Juggling? Hmm, to make use of all six arms...."
"Boss! I'm too scared to go down to the village alone! Come with me, please!"
"Heh heh, if I must."
Yurakne used every excuse she could think of to stick close to him.
People could have called her a married woman in her mid-twenties making a fool of herself. (Sven actually did.)
But she wanted to be honest with herself.
Frank Wonderstein.
She liked that man.
A heart she'd once locked away, he had opened again.
She was happy whenever she was with him.
"Aaaagh!"
"Run!"
"A demon! That bastard is a demon!"
Then, one day, a month into their travels together...
She saw Wonderstein's true face.
Every time he swung his hand, a person's head burst like a balloon.
Blood and flesh rained down.
Amid that hellish spectacle, Wonderstein was smiling.
The same gentle, radiant smile he always wore.
And in a perfectly casual tone, he said:
"Isn't it beautiful? The sight of human fireworks going off like that...."
Was that when it started?
The way the members began avoiding their leader?
"Oh, everyone. Have you finished eating already?"
"Ah... uh... well... we didn't want to wake you while you were sleeping...."
"Yeah, uh... we sort of... ate already."
"...Is that so?"
And she was no different.
"Yura, we were supposed to go shopping together today, weren't we?"
"Y-yes? Um, well... I think I can manage on my own!"
"..."
"Th-there isn't that much to carry...."
"...I see. Very well."
Eventually, after this pattern kept repeating, Ella stepped forward as their spokesperson to sort things out.
"Did you really think they'd keep treating you the same after you showed them that side of you?"
"Heh heh, I suppose it was quite a shock."
"Anyway, if you intend to keep leading this circus from now on, just leave everything to me."
"...Understood. Go ahead."
Wonderstein nodded, expression perfectly indifferent.
With the same smile, in the same voice.
If he'd gotten angry, or shown even a flicker of resentment, it would have felt more human.
Instead, he acted exactly the same as always, as if nothing had happened.
Now she could see him clearly.
That meticulously artificial smile.
A tone so cloyingly contrived it made her skin crawl.
He was merely pretending to be human.
"Over such a little flick on the forehead? It didn't even hurt."
"The road is dark for a woman walking alone at night. I'll escort you."
"I'm... her husband."
The demon's honeyed voice.
His smile was still beautiful, his actions still brimmed with consideration.
And yet, somewhere...
something had...
changed—become more human than before.
For just a moment, her heart wavered.
She found herself holding him before she knew what she was doing.
Right there in the arms of the demon she'd been so afraid of, that she'd avoided.
Thump, thump.
The fierce pounding in her chest was not born of fear.
The feelings she'd thought she'd discarded were churning inside her.
Yura pulled herself together.
Knowing full well what he truly was, she despised how easily she could be shaken.
Don't be fooled.
Don't trust his kindness.
Stay on guard constantly.
Don't let your heart open up.
"Mackerel like this usually comes from the river mouth already salted. It's traded in bulk at the big markets. Hard to find it fresh in a small fish market like this one. You'd have better luck at the morning stalls in the main square."
"As expected of Yurakne. I had no idea."
"Is... that so?"
We talked about mackerel the very first day we went to the market together.
I gave him the exact same answer, down to the last syllable.
And yet he replied as if hearing it for the first time.
Delivering praise like a machine.
What a pathetic imitation of a human being.
His words.
His smile.
All of it a hollow fabrication.
Not a single genuine feeling behind any of it.
I remember the knights whose heads and bodies burst like fireworks.
I remember the villagers crushed together into a ball.
I remember the fellow troupe member he turned to stone for crying too loudly.
He is a demon.
Yura firmly tightened her slipping resolve.
"...Would you rather let go?"
She was still held in his arms, but her pulse had settled into something cold and calm.
Could he feel it too?
You couldn't tell from his expression alone.
His smile didn't waver in the slightest.
"Do whatever you wish, Yurakne."
What does a demon want?
To stay close, or to pull away?
While she hesitated, the packing of the auctioned item was finished.
"Item number 29! Number 29!"
The timing was perfect.
"I'll be right back."
Yurakne slipped naturally out of the leader's embrace and walked toward the loading area.
The dockhand took her money and handed her the receipt.
A worker passed her the basket of fish.
No.
Tried to pass it to her.
"Wha—? Y-you're...?"
The worker's jaw fell open.
His eyes locked onto Yurakne.
Seeing his pupils dilate, a sense of foreboding struck her — but by then it was too late.
"Aaaaaaagh! A m-monster!"
He hurled the basket aside and screamed.
Was he one of the spectators from the circus?
Every head in the crowd turned toward them.
"A m-monster! The monster's come to eat us!"
"Hey! What's wrong with you?"
"Whoa, did this guy eat something bad?"
The worker thrashed on the ground like a man possessed.
Other dockhands ran over to calm him down.
Watching him flail, she suddenly remembered who he was.
The same worker who had served as Sven's plaything before the show!
It was definitely him!
He'd agreed to take part in the game in exchange for free admission.
Then he'd vomited at the sight of the "Bandaged Man," wet himself when he saw the "Spider Woman," and passed out cold at the "Red-Blood Ogre."
After suffering a year's worth of humiliation in a single day, he'd staggered out of the performance yard with a hollow, shell-shocked look.
A spectator's robust reaction was, by tradition, a delight to any performer.
He'd become the butt of the troupe members' jokes all evening, drawing plenty of laughter.
And of all the places to run into him, it had to be here.
The uneasy atmosphere made her want to back away.
Then the worker raised a trembling hand and pointed straight at her.
"Th-that woman's a monster!"
"Calm down, man! What nonsense are you spouting?"
"I-I'm serious! The Monster Circus Troupe that came to the performance yard today! The one that catches men and sucks them dry—the Spider Woman! Yeah! Spider Woman! She's got six arms!"
Every gaze turned to Yura.
Her dark purple hair and a face that carried a hauntingly beautiful sadness.
She was such a beauty that it was a pity you couldn't study her more carefully in the daytime.
Judging by looks alone, the label "monster" didn't fit her at all.
But a few people who'd been studying her face closely began to murmur.
"Now that you mention it...."
"Doesn't she look like her?"
Quite a number of people here had seen the daytime performance.
She had none of the purple-black lipstick, none of the fresh blood trickling from her mouth, none of the heavily smudged eye makeup — but her striking features were hard to mask.
The dockhands passed whispers back and forth, and some of the customers recognized her too.
"What's a monster doing here?"
"Didn't they say she's cursed?"
"She eats people."
"Should she be allowed to walk around freely like this?"
A hostile current spread through the muttering crowd.
The ugly remarks started up almost at once.
"Show us your monster form!"
"So she really does have six arms?"
"What gives you the right to slink around here, you filthy thing?"
Threats, jeers, and mockery filled the market with a clamorous din.
This was no monsters' den, and the locals had a heavy advantage in numbers.
Besides, the target wasn't a dangerous-looking brute — she was a seemingly helpless woman.
People could afford to be far bolder now than they'd been by daylight.
"Go on, reveal yourself!"
The ambush came without warning.
Someone surged forward from behind and yanked at Yurakne's cloak.
Yurakne snatched at it too late — the cloak had already been pulled down to her waist.
Flutter.
The fabric slid away, revealing the six arms folded beneath it.
Pale, slender, and undeniably a woman's arms.
She simply had a few more than other people.
Yet to the crowd, that made her a monster.
That is the definition of a monster.
Being different from the ordinary.
"Aaaaugh! She really does have six arms!"
"It really was the Spider Woman! I didn't imagine her!"
"That's revolting!"
"Ugh, look at that body."
"Ech, how can something like that count as a person?"
Contempt and revulsion rippled through the crowd.
Vicious mockery and pure malice flew at her.
Some went beyond words and acted on their scorn.
"You disgusting monster! How many men have you seduced with that face?"
Whish, thok.
A barnacle sailed through the air and struck her shoulder before dropping to the ground.
It didn't hurt.
But it prodded an old wound.
That day she'd been locked behind bars and pelted with stones.
"How dare you slink in here and ruin our luck?"
Shk, puck.
A small fish, barely the size of a palm, hit her chest and fell.
This time her body rocked slightly.
The fish's dead eyes stared up at her from the ground.
Dark and vacant.
Hello. You're all alone too, aren't you? Just like me.
Not a single person among the onlookers was on her side.
Then, unbidden, the image of a man flashed through her mind.
Yurakne looked back over her shoulder.
At the spot she had just left.
There he stood, amidst the surging crowd.
He had not moved an inch, standing perfectly still, as if this whole spectacle were a show for his amusement.
Every time the swarm of bodies rippled, his shadow surfaced, then vanished, jerking wildly.
Through a brief crack in the light.
His face flickered into view.
Only for an instant, but she saw it clearly.
Frank Wonderstein.
He was looking at her...
and smiling.
De-
mon
is...