“Ah, I’m Jin. Jin D. I’m an aphid.”
The man who revealed himself to be an aphid didn’t seem the least bit offended. Rather than getting upset, he even dropped to his knees with a deeply respectful posture. He was the kind of well-mannered guy who expressed sincere gratitude to someone who saved his life.
“I’m Blaine, a honeybee. And this guy here is…”
Blaine trailed off, glancing toward Hurel—and froze. The spider’s face was expressionless. That sweet, innocent face that used to smile so warmly was nowhere to be seen. In its place was something unfamiliar. That cold, blank expression sent a chill down his spine.
The unease Blaine felt was blown away by a loud voice.
The aphid man’s face twisted in disbelief as he pointed a finger and yelled.
“A hooonneeybeee?! You mean you’re not a wasp?!”
Blaine had heard that reaction before, but it still stung a little.
“No way…! A honeybee!?”
Jin’s shrill voice rang out across the clearing, high-pitched and cracking like shattered glass. He’d yelled so loudly the final syllables came out warped and broken. Embarrassed, his face flushed red as he stammered out an apology.
“I-I mean… I guess that’s possible, sure. Sorry for shouting.”
Even with that expression of disbelief, Blaine couldn’t bring himself to feel offended. He wanted to lament this rigid, shallow society where appearances defined judgment… but then he remembered he himself had never seen a honeybee as big as he was. And with that, his shoulders drooped.
The aphid, who still seemed unable to accept the truth, suddenly shifted demeanor. He relaxed from his polite kneeling into a casual sprawl and started dropping formal speech. Apparently, that deference earlier wasn’t out of gratitude for saving his life—it was a survival instinct in the face of a predator. So much for the respectful, humble first impression; it popped like a soap bubble.
“Ahaha, I totally freaked out for no reason. Geez, why were you standing there looking all intimidating? Loosen up, honeybee buddy!”
He reached out and gave Blaine’s back a few friendly taps. Was this… sociability? Or just being overly familiar?
Jin, being smaller than most honeybees, didn’t even reach Blaine’s shoulder. Not just short—his whole frame was tiny. As he enthusiastically patted Blaine’s back, his hand got stuck in the thick fuzz, and he started flailing in a panic. So… small… Blaine thought, then immediately felt guilty for the rude thought.
“Ah! Sorry, my bad. But really, it’s so great to meet you, honeybee pal! I was totally shocked. Not just ’cause you’re a honeybee—but more than that… I didn’t think there were any survivors.”
His personality was completely different from the first impression—cheerful, loud, talkative. As Blaine chuckled awkwardly and tried to keep up with the pace, he caught on a strange word.
“Survivors?”
“Yeah. How’d you make it out alive? Did you zip away fast with those wings? But honeybees usually don’t run, right?”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Or maybe they thought you were one of their own and didn’t touch you?”
Blaine cut him off mid-ramble. It was time to get a real explanation.
“Wait, are you not from the Amil Hive near the Salvia Flower Field?”
The Amil Hive—those were the kind honeybees who’d once mistaken Blaine for a wasp and nearly attacked him, but had later apologized and shared their honey.
“No, I’m from a different hive. What happened to the Amil Hive bees?”
“Ohh, I see. So like, a week ago? Or maybe two? Anyway, a wasp gang attacked the Amil Hive. There were nearly ten of them, I heard.”
“What?!”
Blaine went pale. Ten wasps? That was more than enough to wipe out an entire hive.
“Th-then the Amil Hive… is…?”
“Wiped out. Not even a scrap of wax left. They got steamrolled.”
It was inevitable. Honeybees, with only tiny stingers, couldn’t possibly fight off wasps with thick exoskeletons unless they were prepared to suffer massive casualties. And with ten wasps… There was no chance. Blaine’s face fell, mourning the loss silently.
“Anyway, it’s a disaster. The honeybees are gone, and it’s causing us all kinds of trouble too.”
It’s been over a week since the bees disappeared. With no pollinators, the flowers aren’t blooming much. The aphids are facing famine. Even the newborns are starving. Jin shook his green hair and sighed.
“So the wasps are hurting your kind, too.”
“Yeah. Honestly, when I came to and saw you, I freaked out inside. I thought, Crap! The wasps are still here?! I almost fainted again.”
He’d been sure that after raiding a hive and making off with a haul of honey and larvae, the wasps would’ve moved on. The odds of running into one again seemed too unlucky to believe. Jin chattered non-stop, his words tumbling out—until he gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth.
Maybe it finally hit him that talking like that in front of a honeybee was a bit tactless.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way…”
“Nah, it’s okay.”
He wasn’t wrong. After stealing from one hive, the wasps likely had no reason to return. If anything, this place might be the safest option. Blaine needed to camp anyway—so if he could do it somewhere secure and near a flower field, all the better.
“Then why don’t we rest here tonight, even if it’s a little early, and head out first thing tomorrow? What do you think, Hurel?”
Blaine turned to Hurel, who hadn’t said a word this whole time—and tilted his head again. It wasn’t that Hurel seemed upset… but the warmth had completely vanished from his face. That cold, unreadable mask made him feel like a stranger. What’s going on? Is he hiding that he’s sick? Worried, Blaine reached out and lightly nudged Hurel—only for Jin to call out to him.
“You guys need a place to camp? Where are you headed?”
“Ah, yeah. We’re looking for someone.”
“If you’ve got nowhere in mind, why not come stay at my place? It’s a cozy underground hotel built by some ants—decent amenities, too.”
It was a tempting offer. Sleeping on cold dirt with the wind howling was a thousand times worse than that. Setting up hammocks would mean more work for Hurel, and besides—surely he wanted a warm bath and a proper bed too.
“If you’d really let us, that’d be amazing. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I owe my life to you.”
“Then lead the way.”
Blaine grabbed Hurel’s wrist to pull him along after the small-framed aphid walking ahead. But instead, Blaine’s body yanked backward—what the…? It felt like trying to pull a block of iron. He didn’t budge.
“Hurel?”
This wasn’t right. Something was definitely wrong. As he stared, unease creeping up from his toes, Blaine inspected the spider from head to toe. That same frigid expression. Then, at last, Hurel slowly began to move.
“Let’s go.”
“Huh? Oh… yeah…”
Blaine followed Jin and Hurel, unease gnawing at his chest. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it—but something was definitely wrong.
