“L-Let’s just help him for now. Hurel, grab that arm!”
As Blaine hurriedly reached for the man’s right arm to lift him up, the man—who had been standing there with a displeased expression—clicked his tongue and strolled over unhurriedly.
Is rescuing every random stranger some kind of habit now? Tsk. Bad habits like that should be broken early.
The man’s body was as heavy as his large frame suggested. It was impossible for Blaine to lift him on his own. He strained and sweated buckets as he tried, his muscles trembling, when Hurel, who had been watching coldly with a blank expression, finally reached out and grabbed the man’s left arm.
Whoosh—
“Huh?!”
With the same casual motion one might use to pick up a fallen cup and set it back on a table, Hurel hoisted the man and planted his legs firmly on the ground. Calling it “helping him up” didn’t quite capture it—the word “planted” was far more accurate.
“Whoa, f-fuck, I seriously thought I was gonna die!”
His mouth was just as rough as his appearance. The man, brushing off dust from his back and butt in a crude fashion, ignored his hands entirely and instead grabbed Blaine’s hand and gave it a firm, overenthusiastic shake—so hard it felt like Blaine’s shoulder might dislocate.
“Thank you so much. I really thought I was done for! You saved my life!”
“N-No, uh, i-it’s noth—”
Smack!
Oh, right. Blaine had completely forgotten. He was traveling with a spider who hated being touched by others—like someone had slathered his body in honey or something. As Hurel sharply slapped away the stranger’s hand and pulled Blaine behind him, Blaine awkwardly followed his lead, flustered.
“What the hell? Why’re you shoving people—huh?”
The man, who had already looked rather intimidating, was mid-snap when he suddenly froze, as if the midsummer heat had turned him to ice.
He’d finally gotten a good look at the cold, stunning face glaring at him with icy disdain.
A single beam of sunlight pierced through the thick canopy above, hitting the stranger’s white, feathery lashes and making them sparkle like jewels. His eyes, gleaming with a sharp, blade-like hue, only heightened his striking beauty.
“Uh, h-hello! Nice to meet you! I, um…”
The man, tongue-tied for a long moment, finally defrosted and stammered out a greeting, hastily reaching out a hand.
But the beautiful man didn’t budge. Far from shaking hands, he stared at the offered palm like it was a piece of garbage, his gaze full of disgust.
The man awkwardly wiped his hand on his pants, unsure what to do with it now.
Blaine, watching the man stare at Hurel as if possessed, suddenly felt something twist in his chest.
What is this? Why am I… feeling this way?
It was like someone had gotten their grubby hands on his treasured jar of honey—one he’d hidden and cherished in secret, terrified even his gaze might ruin it—and now he was being forced to stand back and watch as others carelessly poked at it, marveling.
It made him feel utterly disgusting.
***
The packed lunch boxes the aphids had prepared were being emptied at an alarming rate.
Blaine, watching the man annihilate the food with both hands like he hadn’t breathed in hours, poured some tea into the lid of a thermos with a faintly resigned look.
“Mmph, mmph—thanks, I—mmph—man, I tell ya—mmmmmph…”
It was hard to understand with all the chewing, but piecing together the mangled words, the story went something like this:
This creature—a rhinoceros beetle—had been on a long journey back home when he was ambushed by roadside bandits and completely robbed.
Overconfident in his strength, as befit a rhino beetle, he had let his guard down and gotten sucker punched.
The bandits mocked him mercilessly as he lay on the ground, unable to get up, and eventually left him there. He spent days trying in vain to rise again, all while being too scared to call for help in case a predator heard him.
After days of that hopeless struggle, facing the very real possibility of starving to death, he finally screamed for rescue in a desperate last-ditch gamble—and that cry had reached Blaine and Hurel.
What a shitty stroke of timing, Hurel thought, chewing the inside of his cheek like he’d bitten into something bitter.
He cast a sidelong glance at the worried honeybee beside him. Blaine had tucked his wings away but hadn’t had time to put on his outer shirt. His loose, unbuttoned shirt hung open, sticky with sweat that gleamed temptingly along his chest.
I should’ve torn those wings off and dragged him away while I had the chance. I still don’t know why I didn’t.
Was it because he said he trusted me? No… Even if he cried after being betrayed, he still would’ve looked unbearably beautiful. Then why the hell did I stop?
“Um, Hurel.”
Maybe it was that thought. Maybe it was guilt.
Whatever it was, the spider forced a pure smile onto his face as he looked over at Blaine.
The honeybee, who’d been frowning just a second ago, quietly began putting on his outer shirt.
Hurel was relieved. At least Blaine had the sense not to flaunt that glistening chest forever.
Fwump—
Suddenly, everything went dark.
Confused, Hurel blinked up, only to find a shirt draped over his head, filled with the sweet scent of honey.
“Here, wear this. Um… I-it’s for… a cold! Yeah, you might catch a cold!”
A cold?
It was early summer.
The honeybee standing before him was dripping with sweat down his chest, and even his cheeks were flushed red, like he’d overheated.
Is he overacting, or does he really think I’m that fragile?
“Phew… I’m full now.”
The rhino beetle, who had left only empty containers in his wake, leaned back against the tree trunk and rubbed his belly.
Blaine, still diligently wrapping Hurel’s milk-pale face in his shirt, didn’t even seem to register the loss.
“Let me properly introduce myself. You probably figured it out already, but I’m a rhinoceros beetle. My name’s General.”
His name is ‘General.’
Hurel scoffed silently at the name, watching as Blaine, still clumsily fumbling with his words, tried to disguise flattery as sincerity.
“G-General? W-Wow—what an amazing name. It sounds super tough! Really impressive!”
“Right? Right?”
“Seriously… It’s so cool…”
Blaine, who had been visibly annoyed with the beetle mere moments ago, now stared at him with wide, sparkling eyes, even balling his fists in excitement as he showered him with praise.
Hurel, who had been impressed by Blaine’s acting skills, started to have second thoughts after five, ten minutes went by and the name still kept coming up.
…Wait. Is this not an act? Is he serious?
“I’m Blaine. It’s kinda embarrassing, but compared to your amazing name, mine feels so plain…”
“Can’t be helped, right? Not every creature on Earth gets a majestic name. As long as it’s not an ugly one, that’s good enough!”
“Mmm, that’s true too.”
It seemed Blaine genuinely thought that name was cool.
Hurel let out a soft, dazed sigh, his lips twitching as he watched the two big guys—now fully in sync—chattering away.
“Agh, come to think of it, I totally devoured your food without even asking! Sorry—I go brain-dead when I’m hungry…”
“No, it’s fine. We’re all creatures, we should help each other out, right, General?”
“Oho! You’re such a kind soul. I like you, Blaine!”
Fuck. If I’d known that was his type, I should’ve said my name was Emperor or something.
Hurel, now radiating such a dark aura the plants might shrivel around him, clenched his jaw with a silent grrrr.
***
“It’s okay. I actually like big bodies.”
That line, spoken long ago like a distant memory, now echoed maddeningly in Blaine’s ears.
He didn’t understand himself anymore. With a confused, almost philosophical daze, he stood nearly blocking Hurel’s view as he kept chatting with the rhinoceros beetle.
This was a creature even bigger than him—something he’d rarely seen in his life. And not only that… the beetle had a cool name.
His bold, macho personality, his boisterous laughter—every little thing was starting to catch Blaine’s attention.
He couldn’t just laugh it off as sensitivity.
The burning stares Hurel kept throwing at the beetle, like he wanted to skewer him, were so intense Blaine could feel them on the back of his neck.
And every time it happened…
Blaine couldn’t explain it. But a strange, melancholy settled over him.
