#turtle!rose

“Well, don’t take too long,” Foxglove says dryly in her usual quiet voice. “Or we’ll just think that you’re trying to hide from the mean akuma while the rest of us get sent to dreamland.”

“Foxy!” Princesse Tortue elbows Foxglove. “Be nice!”

“What?” Foxglove says. “It was a joke. I was kidding.”

“I appreciate your attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere,” Fukō says. “But I don’t intend to hide. I’m going to find the perfect Bee to paralyse Fatigue and then I’ll be back.”

But who to pick? rings in her head as she leaps through Paris. Scarmony seems to have the talent to pick a frightfully fitting holder for the Miraculouses; Foxglove is quiet and used to skulking, making the most of being a deceptive hero, and Princesse Tortue possesses a loud, vibrating energy that makes her perfect as a hero to draw fire and shield others from that damage. If the Bee’s power is subjection then they’ll need someone quick, both physically and mentally; someone who’s not intimidated by power but will jump in to do what’s right regardless; someone like –

Like Marinette. The thought hits Fukō like a bolt of lightning, and before her brain can catch up with her body, she’s bounding in the direction of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, praying that Marinette’s there and hadn’t ventured out and gotten caught up in Fatigue’s attack. Despite wielding the primordial force of destruction and bad luck, it seems that the universe has granted Fukō her wish, because when she lands on Marinette’s balcony and raps on the hatch door, it swings open after just a few short moments.

“Fukō?” Marinette says with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? Are we in danger from the akuma?”

“No. May I come in?” Fukō waits until Marinette nods before slipping inside and leaping off Marinette’s bed with the grace of the animal that she embodies. Marinette follows down the ladder at a more sedate pace. “We need your help, Marinette.”

“Me?” Marinette points at herself. “What could I possibly do? Unless you’re – oh no – you’re not going to –”

Fukō grins and fishes out the little Miraculous box, then holds it out to an ashen Marinette. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I present you with the Miraculous of the Bee. With the power of subjection, you will help our team defeat Fatigue, then return the Miraculous to me after the battle. Can I trust you?”

“W-Why me?” Marinette pushes Fukō’s hand away, her own hand trembling. “My only superpower is super clumsiness! Why not Alya, she’d be a much better superhero –”

“Because being a superhero isn’t dependent on your physical attributes,” Fukō says. “Your mind and soul are what matter. I already know that you have a brilliant mind and you never hesitate to stand up to people like Chloé Bourgeois. You’re exactly the type of wielder we need for the Bee. The Miraculous will take care of any physical shortcomings. You don’t think I can jump off buildings as a civilian, do you?”

Marinette snorts as she chews her lip and frowns at the proffered box, while Fukō holds her breath. Thankfully, after a heart-stopping few moments, Marinette nods, takes the box from Fukō, and snaps it open. Brilliant golden light pours out, making her gasp and shield her eyes, and when the light dies down and materialises into a little bee kwami, Marinette’s rendered speechless.

“Hello, my queen!” The kwami bows. “I am Pollen, at your service!”

“Bug-mouse! Fuzzy bug-mouse!” Marinette jumps away from Pollen, trips on a stray piece of fabric, and would have fallen backwards and collided with her chaise if not for Fukō swooping in to grab her. This close, Fukō can clearly see the freckles that dust Marinette’s cheeks like stars in the night sky, and she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to gently lay Marinette down on the chaise, then count every single freckle with her lips and –

Fukō blinks and resists the urge to shake her head. Where did that thought come from? Clearing her throat, she sets Marinette on her feet and releases her.

“Sorry,” Marinette says shakily. “I understand if you don’t want to work with me –”

“Of course not, my queen,” Pollen says, her blue eyes gleaming. “I’ve seen far stronger reactions in the past. A previous holder attempted to impale me with his sword, so at least you didn’t throw anything at me.”

“O-Okay…” Marinette removes the Bee comb from its box and slides it into her hair. “Um, what do I need to know? How do I transform? What’s my power?”

Fukō smiles. She can most definitely appreciate someone who asks the right questions. “Your special power, from my understanding, allows you to paralyse an opponent. Pollen is the kwami of subjection.”

“Indeed,” Pollen says. “Your Venom will allow you to immobilise one opponent and then you’ll have five minutes before you detransform. And you must simply say “buzz on” to transform.”

“Pollen, buzz on!” When the golden light that encases Marinette fades, Fukō can’t help but look over her outfit. It’s simple but striking, just like Marinette: a tight suit that’s black across her shoulders and upper arms, meeting elbow-length yellow gloves with black fingers, and a yellow torso with a sweetheart neckline and black stripes tapering down her abdomen, yellow thighs with black stripes also tapering down, and knee-length black boots with yellow soles. Her pigtails are striped and tipped with yellow, her bright blue eyes now stare out from behind a simple yellow and black mask that unfortunately hides the freckles on her cheeks, and –

Fukō blinks and wrenches her eyes away before Marinette, who’s now examining her weapon, can realise that she’s openly staring. It wouldn’t do to be seen exhibiting such unprofessional behaviour, especially since she’s never once stared at Foxglove and Princesse Tortue like this. What’s going on with her today?

“Um…” Fukō clears her throat. “Name. You need a name. And then we can go and help Scarmony, Foxglove, and Princesse Tortue.”

“Oh, wow.” Marinette replaces her trompo around her waist. Her gorgeous, shapely waist. Oh no. “You need Foxglove and Princesse Tortue as well? This must be a tough akuma!”

“He can put anyone to sleep with one hit,” Fukō says, praying that her warm cheeks aren’t visibly red. “That’s why we need you to immobilise him. Foxglove and Princesse Tortue are there to distract him and shield us from hits. We really need to return and help. Name! What should we call you?”

Marinette hums. “I never really considered a superhero name for myself. I never even thought I’d be a superhero. What do you think, Fukō?”

Well, if Fukō can choose a name for Marinette, it’ll most definitely be something to do with honey, to reference Marinette’s sweetness. Honeybee? No, that’s far too generic and common for someone like her. Honeycomb? Hmm, close but not quite. What else does Fukō love about Marinette?

Her pastries, whispers an annoying voice in her head. Fukō tries to swat it away. And her buns, as Adrien would say, not that you’d understand that kind of –

“Honeybun!” Fukō blurts out. Marinette blinks.

“Honeybun?” she repeats. Fukō nods and scrambles for an explanation to hide what had just played out in her traitorous brain.

“Yes! Because, um…your parents are bakers! And you like sweet things, and honey is sweet and references bees!”

Tell her that you think she’s sweet as honey, you coward.

Marinette’s face lights up in her signature wide smile. “I like it! Honeybun. It’s sweet and cute, but too much of it and you’ll be sorry.”

I could never have too much of you. Okay, seriously, Fukō’s going to have words with her brain after this. For now, she forces herself to compartmentalise her flustered feelings and she clears her throat.

“Excellent reasoning,” she says. “But we should really go now, before Fatigue catches Scarmony and the others.”

“Right!” Honeybun unslings her trompo and follows Fukō out of the trapdoor and onto the balcony. “So, um…I just jump? Off a tall building? And fall?”

“I’ll catch you if need be,” Fukō says, her lips twitching. Honeybun giggles and hoists herself onto her balcony railing.