My name was Henderson.
Henderson-Wilson-Johnson.
I was well aware that it was a peculiar name. However, it was the name my parents had bestowed upon me, and I could not simply cast it aside. Besides, Wilson was the name of my father, and Johnson was that of my grandfather. I intended to treasure them both.
In my family, we concatenated our paternal names. It was a simple system that made our lineage easy to track. Of course, that did not mean I looked down upon my mother’s side of the family. I maintained close ties with all my maternal relatives as well. In the end, the only things a man could truly rely on were his kin and his muscles.
Hahahaha.
I lived in Village Five. My work was going quite well, and I had no complaints regarding my daily life.
Hmm? Ah, my apologies.
I served as a backup dancer and the costume manager for Village Five’s pride and joy, the mascot Five-kun. Today, I had successfully completed six stage performances and finished placing the costume orders for the upcoming spring show.
I was quite exhausted. While selecting and preparing costumes was manageable enough, being a backup dancer was inherently demanding. Still, it was a popular profession with a great deal of competition. I took great pride in having secured one of the few available positions and in my ability to defend it. Naturally, getting to work so close to Five-kun was its own reward.
Fufu, now wait, wait. Do not be so startled. I assumed you already knew, but allow me to state it clearly: there was no one inside Five-kun.
One day, amidst the hustle and bustle of my daily routine, my grandfather summoned me. It seemed he wanted my assistance in tailoring some clothes.
This was unexpected. My grandfather was the type who usually monopolized such enjoyable tasks for himself. He mentioned that he had acquired a bolt of rare cloth, so I wondered if it was a material that required my physical strength to handle.
...No, that was unlikely. Knowing my grandfather, he would simply train his own body to meet the challenge. That meant he likely needed me to serve as an errand person who understood the nuances of the craft.
With those thoughts in mind, I headed toward my grandfather’s workshop. It was tucked away in the back of a shop that dealt in second-hand clothing. Though the space was small, it was perfectly outfitted for the pursuit of tailoring. I was quite envious; I hoped to have a workshop like it someday.
Now then, where was my grandfather?
Just as I wondered that, my eyes landed on a spider.
...
...
...
I eventually opened my eyes, but I found myself in a state of utter confusion. Why was I lying down? Had I collapsed? Had I lost consciousness?
Why?
As I racked my brain, the image of a spider came to mind. It had been about the size of a fist. There was no mistaking it. That was a Demon Spider—the legendary deadly weaver.
That was it. Was it still here? Was this place safe? Where was I?
I looked around a familiar room. It was the small bedroom built adjacent to my grandfather’s workshop. I was lying in the bed my grandfather used whenever he worked late into the night.
In other words, there really had been a spider in the workshop. But why? More importantly, was my grandfather safe? Since I was the one tucked into bed, I assumed he was unharmed, but... was the spider still there?
Or had I simply hallucinated? There was no way a Demon Spider would be in the middle of a bustling town. They were the sort of beings found only in the deepest reaches of a forest or at the bottom of a dark dungeon. They were ferocious monsters said to bring death to anyone who looked upon them.
Naturally, I had never seen one before. And yet, the moment I saw that creature, the name "Demon Spider" had flashed through my mind with absolute certainty. Therefore, it must have been one.
But why?
Struggling with these thoughts, I climbed out of bed and went into the workshop next door.
Both my grandfather and my father were there. My father had apparently rushed over in a panic after hearing that I had collapsed. I apologized for causing such a scare; I was fine now. Or so I thought.
"By the way, about the spider—"
The moment I spoke, my grandfather clapped a hand over my mouth.
"There was no spider. Do you understand?"
Eh?
While I was still reeling from my grandfather’s words, my father leaned in.
"There is absolutely no way a spider would be in a place like this. Isn't that right?"
Huh?
...
...
I took a moment to think. Then, I scanned my surroundings.
On the workshop table lay a bolt of high-quality cloth I had never seen before. This was likely the rare material my grandfather had mentioned. I didn't know the specifics, but I had heard there was only enough for a single outfit. Looking at it now, there was clearly enough for two.
...
Furthermore, I noticed the buttons on my father’s clothes. They were unfamiliar, yet I recognized them instantly. They were wooden buttons carved from the wood of the Unfelled Great Tree—the same kind used for the Village Head's own garments. The material itself was priceless, and the craftsmanship required to process it was nothing short of extraordinary. I had been longing to see such buttons up close.
Why were those buttons on my father’s clothes?
...
My grandfather and father were behaving completely unnaturally. There was only one possible conclusion.
They’d been bought!
Before I could shout the accusation, an autograph board was thrust before my face.
"This is an autograph board from the Acting Village Head, Yoko-sama. It was prepared specifically for you."
...
An autograph board. It was a specially processed board where a signature was written in ink or sumi. While I didn't know much about other regions, they had become famous in Village Five as a type of fan merchandise ever since Five-kun began distributing them.
The beauty of these boards was their accessibility; as long as you could provide the board and a writing utensil, you could request a signature. Because of this, boards signed by Five-kun, the Ramen Queen, Acting Shop Manager Kinesta of Kuro and Yuki, and Acting Shop Manager Niz of Sake & Meat Niz were well-known. Actually, "in circulation" was the wrong word—no one ever let go of them. It was more accurate to say their existence was widely recognized.
And, as my tone likely made clear, I was a massive fan of the Acting Village Head, Yoko-sama.
Yes, let me shout it from the rooftops: I was a devotee of Yoko-sama!
Did they truly believe they could buy my silence with a mere autograph board? How foolish! I already possessed seventeen of her boards! At this stage, a single—
Wait.
Was this... Cute Yoko-sama’s signature?!
Just recently, the dignified Yoko-sama had transformed into the Cute Yoko-sama. Her new habit of ending her sentences with "-kon" was simply divine. However, this new persona had refused to provide her signature to anyone. No matter how many influential figures begged, she had stood firm.
The rumor was that a few had been written as a measure against counterfeits, but only one had been made public, and it was kept under heavy guard in the Village Council Hall. There had been several attempted thefts of that single board, leading to increased security and strict time limits for viewing, yet every resident of the village still flocked to see it. I had viewed it many times myself.
The board in front of me was slightly different from the one on display, but it was undoubtedly authentic. It carried the unique flourishes of Yoko-sama’s handwriting, and more importantly, it bore the official seal created to prove its validity. Forging that seal was a capital offense; no one in Village Five was stupid enough to try.
In other words, it was the real thing. Furthermore, it was numbered. It had the special initial used only for Cute Yoko-sama, and the number was... 004?
004?
The one in the Council Hall was 003. There were whispers that 001 had been given to the Village Head and 002 to her daughter.
That meant this was the very first board ever released to the general public.
And it was right here, in front of me.
...
There were no spiders.
None at all.
My mind was far too occupied with deciding exactly how I was going to preserve this priceless treasure.