“Uuum, by the way, what’s that prickly little guy’s name again…?”
“Hey! So, General, where were you headed?”
Without warning, Blaine cut the rhino beetle off mid-sentence—a rare show of rudeness—and used his large frame to block Hurel from the beetle’s line of sight.
General blinked, slightly confused, but answered the question without resistance.
“I was on my way to the Akansia River. That’s where I’m from.”
Blaine’s eyes widened in visible shock.
“Wait—what? You’re headed where?”
“To the other side of the Akansia River. That’s where the Frizian Flower Field is. That’s my hometown.”
Of course. No matter their personality, it was only natural for creatures to feel a surge of warmth upon meeting someone from the same region while out in foreign lands. Blaine was no exception.
Any remaining caution melted away as the honeybee beamed brightly and replied,
“That’s my hometown too!”
“Oh, really?! Then you were on your way back home too?”
“No, not exactly…”
I have my reasons for not going back.
A wave of melancholy passed over Blaine, and his voice trailed off. He tilted his head slightly.
He’d lived in the Frizian Flower Field for over twenty years. If General was from the same place, surely their paths would have crossed at least once—but that face was completely unfamiliar.
General’s next words cleared up the mystery.
“Ah, I was born near the Akansia River, but I left for overseas study when I was really young. My family and relatives all live near Akansia, but I don’t really know the area myself.”
That explained it.
So he looked the way he did but had an educated background.
Blaine shook his head at his own thoughts. No. That’s not okay. After everything I’ve been through because of how I look, I should know better than to judge others the same way.
“Anyway, I’m worried. I was trying to get back there as soon as possible, but now I’ve been delayed. I need to make sure my family is safe from the wasp attack.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Huh? You didn’t hear? The Frizian Flower Field got hit by a wasp gang raid. It’s total chaos over there. What was that place called again? Necta Hive? They said it got completely wiped out—like, not a single grain left behind.”
That’s why I’m heading back. I need to check on my family and see if they’re okay. I figured you were doing the same, General said, rambling on without a shred of tact—until he caught sight of Blaine’s face.
The honeybee’s tan complexion had gone paper white.
***
I thought if I cut off those pretty little wings—something more precious than life—he’d scream like crazy.
I was going to hold him close and comfort him while he cried his heart out.
Sitting on a boulder behind a thick tree blanketed in dense foliage, Hurel silently watched the figure of the honeybee huddled in the distance.
Blaine wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t rubbing his face with his arms.
He just sat there.
“D-Did I say something I shouldn’t have…?”
Caught up in the strange, heavy atmosphere, the rhino beetle floundered, eyes darting nervously.
Hurel, who had been treating the beetle’s voice like a buzzing fly this whole time, now couldn’t ignore it—no matter how big he was.
He calmly walked over to where the honeybee sat curled up.
“Bee-Bee.”
“……”
“Can I sit next to you?”
His voice was as soft and cautious as he could make it.
Blaine, who had been staring blankly into the distance with a vacant look, slowly turned his head toward him.
Hurel nearly flinched but bit down hard on the soft inner flesh of his mouth to keep it in check.
“Ah, Hurel.”
His voice was low, raspy, fractured in multiple directions. His face had gone pale and dry, his eyes sunken with shadow, lips parched, gaze empty like something inside had been hollowed out.
Hurel swallowed hard. His palms were clammy with sweat.
He was genuinely disappointed he hadn’t gotten to see Blaine crying his heart out, clinging to him in anguish. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid—because this… this is even more arousing.
“I’m sorry, but I want to be alone right now. Could you give me a moment?”
Normally, that was the kind of request Hurel would never agree to. And yet, without realizing it, he nodded and took a step back.
This is too much stimulation right now.
If I let my guard down for even a second, I’ll pin him down right here and fuck him until he’s in pieces.
“Got it, Bee-Bee. Just call me if you need anything.”
That should be enough to take a few steps back, he thought—then shook his head to chase the idea away. What a stupid thought. Why would I do it alone when Bee-Bee’s right here?
He may be like this now, but just a little longer and he’ll come running to me, crying, begging to be comforted.
All I have to do is wait.
“Hey, Hurel!”
“Yes?”
No way he figured out what I was thinking, Hurel thought, feigning a blank expression as he turned.
The honeybee, who looked like death only moments ago, now stood blushing bright red, grabbing the hem of Hurel’s clothing.
Was he a chameleon, not a bee?
“Bee-Bee?”
“I know I just said I wanted to be alone, but… um, Hurel…”
Hurel waited patiently, not rushing him.
Blaine—now practically tomato-red—fumbled with his words, barely moving his lips. A whisper quieter than breath slipped out.
“Sorry, but… could you stay with me… for a little while?”
Apparently, no need to wait after all.
***
To his credit, Blaine didn’t cry.
Instead, he spent a long, quiet time nestled in Hurel’s arms, letting the spider stroke him gently.
He soaked in the syrupy sweet words of comfort, letting Hurel’s hands roam his chest. Eventually, he even surrendered his lips completely.
Now, with his bottom lip swollen from Hurel’s relentless sucking, Blaine trudged back through the underbrush, his shoulders slumped.
General stood nearby, guarding the bags with a worried look on his face.
“Hey, Blaine. You alright?”
He barely knew the guy, yet General clung to him with false familiarity.
Hurel, for once, didn’t mind. Annoying as he was, the beetle had his uses. Might as well give credit where it was due.
Blaine nodded grimly, his face dark. Then, with a resolute expression, he looked at General. Then turned to Hurel.
His eyes were fierce, like someone who had made a life-altering decision. His tightly shut lips slowly parted.
“Let’s go to Akansia.”
The smile vanished from Hurel’s flower-like face.
“…What?”
“I’m sorry, Hurel. I know this is sudden, but we have to change our course. I need to go there myself and see what’s happened.”
Change course? Hurel didn’t understand this at all. The hive was wiped out. Blaine had no home left to return to. There was no need to repair his stinger anymore. If anything, changing their course should mean canceling the trip entirely and going back.
What Blaine should be doing was falling to his knees and begging Hurel to take him in—a homeless, helpless, utterly useless bee. But things were heading in a completely different direction. And Hurel did not like it.
“Bee-Bee, didn’t you hear? Your hive is… it’s gone.”
“…Even so, I can’t just pretend it’s not happening. At the very least, if we go now, maybe… maybe I can gather the bodies of my fallen comrades before the ants take them all away.”
How the fuck did this happen?
When General had mentioned the hive’s destruction, Hurel had thought, Perfect. But now—he let out a long, empty sigh.
“I also need to find Bertie. I want to hear what happened from him.”
Who the hell is Bertie now?
“I mean, yeah, they say it’s annihilated, but… maybe it’s just rumors. Maybe some bees escaped, maybe they’re already looking for a new place to rebuild…”
At this point, it was a pitiful display that would’ve earned sympathy from anyone. Well—anyone except for the spider standing in front of him, who lacked not only a conscience but even the most basic scrap of compassion.
Hurel bit down hard on his plush, red lower lip, struggling to keep his fury in check.
