With the initial setup complete and all main characters introduced, Spider reached its first major conflict.
Though the family struggled financially, the elder brother—gifted in baseball—sought to change their circumstances by going professional. To achieve this, he needed to make a name for himself at Koshien (the National High School Baseball Championship).
As the undisputed star of his school's team since middle school, Kitagawa Ryo had spent years preparing for the regional qualifiers. He was confident in his abilities.
Then an accident shattered everything.
Scene 13, Take 1—Action!
Ryo and his mother crossed an intersection. She worked part-time at a convenience store and had called him earlier, excited to share the unsold bento boxes—over a dozen today. She steadied her bicycle while he carried the plastic bag of cheap meals, heading home together.
Distracted by thoughts of the upcoming qualifiers, Ryo stepped onto the crosswalk a second before the light turned green.
A car approached from the left, its driver hesitating to speed through the dying yellow light. Spotting Ryo, the driver slowed to a stop just shy of the crosswalk.
Then came a shriek.
The clatter of a falling bicycle. Ryo turned—only to be shoved violently from behind.
The bag flew from his grip as he tumbled onto the curb, his wrist exploding with pain. When he looked up, his mother lay sprawled on the crosswalk beside the idling car, frozen in the act of pushing him away.
A crowd gathered instantly. The driver stumbled out, protesting he hadn't hit anyone.
Ignoring his throbbing wrist, Ryo scrambled to his mother's side.
"Mom! Are you okay? Don't scare me like this!"
Blood trickled from a scrape on her forehead. She grasped his hand urgently.
"I'm fine. What about you? No injuries, right? Thank goodness I pushed you out of the way—that was so close."
She touched her wound like a badge of honor.
"Thank heavens I reacted in time… thank heavens…"
Police and an ambulance arrived swiftly.
At the hospital, doctors confirmed the mother's injuries were minor—just two scrapes. Ryo, however, fared worse.
"Severe sprain, possibly minor fractures. No strenuous activity for now."
The diagnosis struck like thunder.
The police report was even harsher: the car's dashcam showed it never touched either of them.
Technically, this wasn't even a traffic accident—just a mother shoving her son and falling over.
"I read about mothers lifting cars to save their children," his mother told the nurses as they bandaged her. "Today, I finally understood that strength."
She seemed to bask in this narrative: the selfless mother shielding her child from danger.
"Onii-chan."
A timid voice pulled Ryo from his thoughts.
Worried they'd return too late, his mother had asked neighbors to bring his little sister to the hospital.
The girl's arrival doused Ryo's simmering anger like cold water. He bent down, patting her head with his uninjured left hand.
"Does it hurt?"
Arima Kana eyed his sling-wrapped right arm. She blew on the bandages softly.
"Pain, pain~ fly away!"
The childish gesture almost made him smile.
Then his mother began arguing hysterically with the officer handling the case.
She summoned Ryo over.
Though she'd never attended his games, caring only about grades, now she brandished his injured arm like evidence.
She exaggerated the importance of the upcoming qualifiers, invoking "Koshien" like a sacred incantation to bolster her claims.
Ryo stared blankly at the growing crowd. The more people gathered, the faster his mother's lips moved. Sound faded until he saw only a silent play—the faces of onlookers morphing into grainy TV static from his childhood.
"Stop embarrassing yourself."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Lips pressed tight, Ryo strode out of the hospital.
His footsteps held finality, as if he'd never return.
Director Gotanda twirled his pencil, watching Kana.
This was the scene from her audition: convincing her brother to stay.
He nodded approvingly as Kana delivered another masterful crying performance, her tears dragging Ryo back home.
There, they found their mother fidgeting anxiously.
Suddenly, Ryo remembered how small she seemed now compared to his childhood memories. The realization ached.
For most children, expressing love to parents is arduous.
But so is hatred—or even mere dissatisfaction.
Especially for the dutiful child.
They ate and washed up in silence.
Exhausted from crying, Kana was put to bed first.
Under dim lamplight, Ryo and his mother's shadows stretched across the wall beside a black-and-white portrait—his father, who passed away shortly after Kana's birth four years prior.
Noticing his gaze, his mother strained on tiptoes to take down the frame, clutching it to her chest.
Then came the muffled sobs of a middle-aged woman—weary, unlike Kana's youthful cries. She curled into herself, shaking violently yet soundlessly.
Ryo stood paralyzed.
He felt like the perpetrator of this pain, guilt surging through him like slow-acting venom. Every organ seemed to throb dully, as if sawed apart from within.
(Maybe I'm truly vile. Maybe I deserve to die here.)
He remembered a stray cat from his childhood—a mother who'd eaten something poisonous, convulsing in an alley as her kittens nursed. Young Ryo had force-fed her soapy water, a remedy he'd read about but didn't trust.
His mother had followed him that day, watching quietly before saying:
"She'll live."
"If only for those kittens, she'll fight to survive."
The next day, he found the emaciated cat nursing her litter, licking their heads tenderly.
His mother had patted his hair.
"Who knows if they'll remember her sacrifice when they grow up."
As Ryo lost himself in the memory, his mother rose unsteadily.
"I'll turn in early."
Her voice was flat.
"The bento spilled. Need to make more tomorrow."
"School cafeteria food is expensive and never fills you up."
"Don't stay up too late."
After wrapping the scene, Ryo discussed acting nuances with Oumi Emi, the actress playing his mother. A LALALAI Theatre veteran, she'd co-starred with him years ago in The Cruel Audience.
As their conversation ended, Ryo spotted Arima Kana's mother distributing chilled drinks and ice cream from a cooler to the crew.
"Thank you for your hard work!"
"We're so grateful for this opportunity!"
Mrs. Arima buzzed around like a top, her smile strained but persistent. When she reached Ryo, he accepted the offering—if only to keep her from disrupting filming further.
While catering usually handled refreshments, Mrs. Arima had brought treats every few days since Kana joined the production.
With the cooler emptied, she led her daughter to a quiet corner.
"Too much ice cream upsets little stomachs," she explained softly.
"That child actor Kuzuki ruined his big ice cream commercial deal by gorging before filming. Acute gastritis. Never booked much after that."
Kana nodded obediently.
"You might resent me now, but you'll understand when you're older."
Mrs. Arima stroked her daughter's hair.
"Mommy works so hard for you."
"Begging favors, enduring humiliation, even getting thrown out by security…"
She pulled Kana into a tight hug, murmuring:
"But it was worth it."
"Because you got the role."
Kana stood stiffly in her arms.
These words felt hauntingly familiar.
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