“So that’s why I have to come with you.”
“No, still… I mean, I get it. I know you’ve got a kind heart and you want to help. But you really don’t have to. Honestly, we’re complete strangers. You’ve got no reason to go this far. I mean it. It’s just… I feel overwhelmed.”
Blaine truly was overwhelmed. If he was being blunt, this was an uncertain journey with no clear end in sight—even he didn’t know how things would turn out. Dragging some innocent bystander into it made him feel incredibly guilty. And if it were someone tough, someone who’d weathered the storms of life—like some hardened brute or an unlucky bastard like Bertie—maybe that would’ve been different. But this delicate, porcelain-pale young man who looked like he’d never faced a rough day in his life? How was he supposed to survive such a harsh road?
“…I see.”
“Yeah. But really, thank you. I appreciate you caring about me. Get home safe, okay? And maybe we’ll see each other agai—”
“So everything about being friends and all that… was just a lie?”
Huh…?
“I’m sorry. I was the only one who got excited… I annoyed Bee-Bee—Blaine.”
“Wh-what?”
“I was just so happy to have made my first friend… I didn’t even realize Blaine was feeling burdened by me… ngh…”
Ah—tears…! There had been plenty of times when Hurel’s silver eyes shimmered like a calm lake under moonlight, beautifully tinged with sorrow. But never before had tears rolled down like glass beads falling one by one. Without twisting his face in anguish, the spider simply let the tears fall—silently, endlessly—his expression wet and pitiful as he stood up.
“Sorry for being a nuisance, Blaine. I shouldn’t have imposed.”
“N-no, that’s not it…!”
“I’ll just disappear from your sight now. I’m really sorry.”
Before he could even open his mouth to stop him, Hurel turned sharply and ran off, shoulders trembling, his footsteps light and rapid like scattered raindrops. Blaine, frozen like a stunned rock, tripped over his own feet trying to follow the spider who’d just vanished like a shooting star.
“Hurel! Hurel, wait! It’s a misunderstanding! Wait up!!”
And now, here they were. How it had come to this—Blaine didn’t know, and he didn’t even have the mental bandwidth to try. The honeybee was desperately clinging to the spider’s pant leg, pleading. He wasn’t even thinking about how he’d caught up so quickly after Hurel had darted out of sight. That part just didn’t register.
“Hurel, it’s not like that! Please, listen to me. I never thought you were a bother!”
“You don’t have to lie, Blaine. I’m not hurt at all.”
What part of that face wasn’t hurt?! He looked like his heart had been stabbed through and shredded to pieces! Blaine was in a panic. He didn’t know why, but seeing Hurel cry like that tore at his chest like it was being ripped apart.
“No, really, I mean it! I was just… worried about you…”
“But Blaine only ever thinks about himself. Did you ever consider how I felt? Do you know how worried I was about you? And yet you just stomped all over my feelings like they were garbage… telling me to leave like I’m nothing…”
“W-what? I didn’t say leave, I mean—!”
“You’re getting your wish, aren’t you? I’ll just go throw myself into a river. Then Blaine won’t have to feel so burdened anymore.”
If that would make you feel better, then I’m happy to do it. So goodbye.
Now he felt like crying. Actually, maybe he already was. Tears might’ve already started to well up without him noticing. Why is this happening? Why is he acting so extreme all of a sudden?! Why the river?!
“Hureeeeeel…! I’m sorry! I was wrong! Come with me—come with me, okay?! Please!!”
“I’ve already realized that I’m just a thorn in your side, Blaine. So how could I shamelessly follow you after that? Just leave me alone now.”
“But I—I want you to come with me! I want us to go together! Please come with me! I’m begging you!”
Hurel yanked his sleeve free with cold finality. Still wearing that lonely expression, his face damp with tears, he began to walk away slowly. His voice came out weak, laced with sorrow.
“…It doesn’t feel sincere.”
Blaine felt like he was going to lose his mind.
“No, I mean it, Hurel! I really did want to go with you! I just said stuff I didn’t mean! Please, believe me! Please come with me!!”
“…If that’s really true… then will you do everything I say? As a sign you’re being sincere?”
Blaine stared blankly at Hurel’s tear-streaked face, then stammered out a response.
“W-well, I mean… can I hear what it is first…?”
“…Hah.”
If only he were a little dumber, he’d be easier to toy with. Hurel had been planning to make him grovel, maybe even beg on his knees or lick his shoes—but he clicked his tongue secretly, where the honeybee couldn’t see. Then he shook his head. No. Rushing only leads to indigestion.
“Blaine—no, Bee-Bee. Never say things like ‘go away’ again. It hurt so much… I really thought I might just die right there.”
“Wait—I didn’t say go away, exactly—”
“If I hear something like that one more time, I really don’t know what I’ll do…”
“A-alright! I’m sorry! I won’t say stuff like that again!”
Finally, Hurel approached with a pouty look and softly nestled himself into Blaine’s arms. Blaine let out a sigh—barely remembered how to breathe. The sudden exhaustion probably wasn’t from travel fatigue.
“Bee-Bee… sniff… hrrrk…”
“D-don’t cry. Why are you crying again? Come on, stop, okay?”
His shoulder was getting damp. The spider’s body shivered now and then as he sobbed in Blaine’s arms. A flood of pity surged up like a tsunami, short-circuiting Blaine’s brain. And so, tragically, his mind jumped to a horribly misguided conclusion: Hurting such a fragile, sensitive little creature like this… it’s all my fault.
“Bee-Bee… hhuu…”
“There, there… It’s okay, alright? Good boys don’t cry.”
As Blaine patted his back, holding him close, the warm embrace, his comforting body heat, and the sweet scent of honey all surrounded Hurel. And within that warmth, the spider thought something Blaine could never even imagine: It’s okay if I’m not a good boy.
***
“Anyway… do you even know where this ‘Sage’ or whatever is supposed to be?”
“…Not exactly.”
Blaine’s face darkened, his brows drooping with gloom. Damp, foggy, somewhere in the east—they suspected it might be a tropical rainforest, but Blaine had been trying not to think too hard about it. But now the anxiety he’d been pushing down started creeping back in. What if we really can’t find him?
“Fog and humidity don’t only mean a tropical forest, you know. What makes you so sure?”
“I’m not… really sure. It’s just, the cup that moth guy used for his medicine… I heard it looked like this.”
Blaine gestured with his hands, even squatted down to draw in the dirt. The cup he described was bigger than his palm—more like a pot lid—seemingly woven from massive, thick leaves.
“Leaves like that… you’d only find those in a tropical forest.” Hurel nodded.
As Blaine mentally organized several hypotheses in neat rows in his head, he suddenly felt a twinge of déjà vu. Wait… was Hurel always this smart?
“Hey…”
“But Bee-Bee, let’s think about all that stuff later. You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”
Come see the bed I made for us today.
He suddenly grabbed Blaine’s hand and eagerly tugged him along, acting like a school kid excited to show off a class project. It was… kinda cute.
“Whoa, that’s amazing. You made this already?”
Half genuine, half exaggerated, Blaine let out a gasp of admiration. Hurel’s pale, milky complexion flushed a soft peach pink. Strung up between two large trees—each nearly four arm-spans apart—was a hammock made of spider silk, twigs, and soft leaves.
“I figured sleeping off the ground would be safer, you know? And I wanted it to feel nice, so I lined it with moss for softness. Then I layered big leaves, medium, and small ones in order so there wouldn’t be any gaps.”
Usually so composed and articulate, Hurel now rattled off his explanation like an excited child, proudly presenting his creation. Blaine listened with a warm, fond smile, like a teacher watching a student’s show-and-tell. It was a little childish, maybe. But not disappointing—in fact, it was… pretty endearing.
