My name is Shinsou Hitoshi, and I was bitten by a radioactive spider

Wall-crawler

Back in his room, Hitoshi folded over his pinkie and ring finger, letting a string shoot across room. Huh, organic webbing? Good, he didn't have the tech to manufacture his web shooters anyhow. Though he supposed he could've asked the support course students for help. However, so much as setting foot in their labs came with the risk of being bombarded with explosions. And he'd prefer to die in his eighties surrounded by cats.

Footsteps echoed outside his door, making Hitoshi shake with panic as he sprinted toward the mirror covered in his webbing. Wiping away the substance with tissues, Hitoshi was well aware of how much it looked like... something else.

As the door creaked open, Hitoshi gawked at the tissues in his hand covered in white sticky fluid. Good grief. All his hand work and it still appeared as if he'd been caught masturbating. Hitoshi considered whether he should just admit that a radioactive spider had bitten him. At least, that wouldn't be completely and utterly humiliating.

Petrified, Hitoshi gawked back at Dad with the same expression criminals he caught wore. As Dad stepped through the door, Hitoshi chucked the tissues into the garbage bin a minute too late. His face turned as bright red as a stop sign when Dad's gaze lingered on the stained mirror.

"Hitoshi, I thought you were resting." Dad choked on his own spit but managed to collect himself. His hesitant smile sent Hitoshi into a cold sweat. "Though... that sort of thing might relieve stress – just speaking from experience, ha ha."

"Ew! Gross, Dad. I don't want to know."

Dad placed his hands on his hips indignantly. "Hey! The taboo around sex is problematic. I think it's important to destigmatize –"

"Stop, Dad. Please for the love of God. Talk about that stuff next time Nemuri visits, alright?"

Hitoshi covered his hands over his eyes. What on earth had he done to deserve this agony? He should've locked his door. Then again, he hadn't actually been jerking off, so where was that sort of foresight supposed to cum from? Ugh, no, come from. Stupid brain. Don't make the situation even worse.

"But Hitoshi, wanking is normal. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"Why did you phrase it like that? Are you British or something?"

Dad wiggled his brows. "Well, I am an English teacher."

Wiping his hands on his pants, Hitoshi stormed into bed. He crawled under the covers quickly enough for Cappuccino who'd been hiding under his bed to hiss. As he turned his back toward Dad, he muttered. "Very tired now. No energy to talk. 'Til later, Dad."

"Alright." Dad flashed a finger gun. "But remember, little listener. Sex is good. Masturbation is good."

In response, Hitoshi let out a muffled scream into his pillow. With a chuckle, Mic exited Hitoshi's room and the door fell shut with a click. Leaning over his mattress, Hitoshi picked up Cappuccino who nuzzled against his arms. All was forgiven. Her soft purring as he scratched her ears wasn't enough to get his mind off the conversation with Dad. Wait, was going to tell Uncle Shouta?

Before he could spiral into a panic yet again, Hitoshi fixated on the hum of Dad's car engine as he sped away. Woes about the talk could be future Hitoshi's problem. With a yawn, he snuggled against his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

By the time he woke up, the embers of a sunset were already dancing across the heavens. Dad was probably on patrol and Uncle Shouta must've been at the station with Tsukauchi. Hitoshi rubbed the crust out of the corners of his eyes while Cappuccino snored soundly. Stretching his arms over his head, Hitoshi picked up his hoodie. He quirked a brow at the realization of how ironic the Spider-Man design had become. Still, he slipped the hoodie over his head as he slid open his window and stepped onto the fire escape that had contributed to his derailing reality.