Chapter 4: May Parker
Where the woman appeared to be in her early thirties—perhaps a little younger. Her hair was long, softly wavy, a golden-brown hue that shimmered as it caught the timid morning sunlight peeking out from behind the low buildings around us.
A few strands of her hair were lifted by the breeze, as if dancing along with her steps. Her eyes were a clear ocean blue, the kind that could soothe anyone who stared too long—or instead make them nervous because they were simply too beautiful.
Her skin was fair and smooth, with a faint, natural blush on her cheeks. The thin smile on her lips looked so effortless, gentle yet carrying a charm that quietly drew attention. And the curves of her figure… well, too perfect to be ignored—a balance between simplicity and an almost lethal allure for the average, normal human male.
Damn. This woman was truly beautiful. Any man who managed to be with her would be incredibly lucky. But—was she already married? If not… ah, no, Dante, get a grip! You’ve only been here a week; don’t turn into the neighborhood flirt already.
Still, the longer I stood there, the more I realized she was looking at me. Not just glancing, but actually observing me with a curious gaze.
I instinctively glanced at my clothes—a plain white T-shirt that was probably a little wrinkled, and the training pants I wore because I hadn’t bothered to dress properly yet. No flip-flops, at least… so that’s a few bonus points. But still—
Did I look strange? Or maybe… was my hair a mess? Or did my face still look like someone who had just rolled out of bed? Come on, calm down, calm down, don’t panic! If necessary, just pretend to be a cool, mysterious guy. Even though, in reality, I was much closer to a confused man who had lost his left sandal.
“Hello! Are you the neighbor who moved in a week ago?” the woman said in a gentle yet cheerful voice. Her tone was like that of a call-center angel—friendly, soothing, and with the dangerous potential to make people agree to buy anything. “We’ve been neighbors for a week, but this is the first time we’ve actually met. Nice to meet you!”
Her voice… it was beautiful. There was warmth and elegance woven into every word. The way she spoke was that of someone accustomed to treating others kindly—without any sense of pretense. And every word that left her lips sounded pleasant to the ear.
“Huh… hello?” I was a little nervous, but I forced a polite smile. Don’t look weird. Don’t act like an awkward stranger. “My name is Dante Arashi. Sorry, I’ve been pretty busy this past week, so I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. Nice to meet you… Miss?”
“Miss?” She let out a small chuckle, as if the word sounded far too formal for her. Her light laughter was soft, like a breeze that just happened to brush past a tiny bell, making it ring quietly. Her smile widened naturally—the kind of smile that instantly erased any distance in a conversation. She looked like the type of person who could make anyone feel comfortable in a matter of seconds. “I’m glad to hear that. My name is May Parker, but you can just call me May.”
I fell silent for a moment.
May Parker.
The name crossed my mind without permission, stirring an odd sensation that was hard to explain. Not shock—more like a delayed sense of familiarity that arrived late, then stopped right at the tip of my tongue. That last name… Parker. For some reason, it sounded very familiar, as if I had heard it countless times in a context far greater than a simple neighborly introduction.
But I didn’t jump to any strange conclusions. The world is vast. Parker isn’t a rare name. Maybe I’d just read too much or watched too many things I shouldn’t be thinking about in the morning.
“Is that so?” I gave a small nod, trying to look normal. “In that case, it’s nice to meet you, May.”
My tone sounded steady, even though inside my head something had begun to move slowly, like a wheel that had just started turning. I nearly blinked too much, holding back a ridiculous reflex triggered by that name.
May stood with a relaxed, warm, and open posture. Her presence made the modest front yard of the house feel more alive. Behind her, a small white-painted fence stood neatly, colorful flowerpots were arranged in an orderly line, and a pair of small sandals rested by the front door. Everything looked cared for with real attention—not merely clean, but truly “lived in.”
She was clearly the ideal kind of neighbor. Not the type who would complain just because the television was a little too loud or because children ran around in the afternoon.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I have to head to work soon,” May said, glancing at the watch on her left wrist. The brown leather strap and its classic, elegant design suited her perfectly. “Once again, it was nice meeting you, Dante.”
“Yeah, I hope you have a great day, May. See you,” I replied, giving a small wave.
I tried to look casual, even though my heartbeat was still slightly uneven, as if that brief conversation had left an echo that lingered longer than it should have.
May walked away with light, graceful steps. A faint floral scent of her perfume lingered in the air, a warm and calming trace of her presence. Her softly wavy hair swayed gently with each movement, catching the morning sunlight, which was now growing brighter.
I remained standing in front of the door for a few seconds afterward, watching her back until she disappeared around the corner of the street. It felt as though my mind needed extra time just to process a simple meeting that, for some reason, felt… important.
“…May Parker,” I murmured without realizing it.
The name slipped from my lips on its own.
Only then did the thoughts I had been holding back begin to arrange themselves. The surname Parker. A beautiful woman named May. With a warm, kind nature. It was all far too fitting with a certain image that was supposed to exist only in a particular set of comics.
“Wait,” I whispered softly. “Could that woman really be… the famous Aunt May?”
I immediately shook my head, as if the thought could be chased away by the motion alone. No, it was ridiculous. Too much of a coincidence. Too absurd.
“That can’t be, right?” I clicked my tongue, laughing at myself. “There’s no way I’m living next to—uh, I mean, being neighbors in the same area as—Spider-Man’s aunt.”
A small laugh escaped my lips, more to calm myself than because it was genuinely funny.
Still shaking my head faintly, I began walking along the sidewalk. My steps were steady and rhythmic, in tune with the peaceful atmosphere of the neighborhood. The morning breeze brushed gently against me, and for a moment, I decided to bury that strange thought.
At least… for now.
The street was clean, the asphalt still smooth, and trees lined both sides, casting soft shadows that swayed with the wind. The sound of birds singing added to the morning’s tranquility, blending with the quiet rustle of leaves brushing against one another.
The air felt cool, lightly prickling against my skin, and the scent of damp foliage from last night’s drizzle still hung in the atmosphere like the city’s natural perfume.
Sunlight filtering through the gaps between the trees painted shifting patterns of light on the sidewalk I walked along—as if nature itself were welcoming this new arrival.
A few residents were already busy with their morning routines—a beret-wearing elderly man watering his plants while humming softly, two small children running along while clutching pieces of bread that nearly slipped from their hands, and a dog hopping around in a neighbor’s yard, trying to catch its own tail.
Everything looked peaceful… almost too peaceful for a world where superheroes fought aliens and giant robots.
After a few minutes of walking, I reached a small park at the end of the street. It was simple yet neatly arranged. Wooden benches were surrounded by softly colored flowers—purple, yellow, and pink—that looked as though they had been painted by an artist with a keen sense of beauty.
A small fountain at the center of the park reflected the morning sunlight, creating jewel-like sparkles that danced in the air each time the water splashed down.