It had been a year.
The seasons cycled before these two ponies came across each other again.
Rose was sitting in her usual spot, in a far corner of the cafeteria; however, upon looking up, there was a pony that Rose recognized, though barely.
She saw a nervous pony, trying to hide themselves from the world. A pony that had recently been torn apart and put back together, though the engineer had better things to do than to put the pieces back together perfectly. A pony with piercing ocean eyes.
Rose remembered that gaze.
She walked over to this pony.
The pony looked up, and Rose sat down.
“You are…?” Rose barely recognized this pony. Once confident, brought down to nothing. No longer a comfortable Duke, but a skittish, fragile Honeybee.
“I- I don’t have a name.” The Honeybee was looking around, as if there were ponies just around the corner that would jump them at a moment’s beckon.
“But don’t we all?”
“I-I don’t. Not anymore.”
Rose looked at the Honeybee.
“Surely…” Rose didn’t want to believe anything, but her hopes weren’t very high.
“Rose…”
Rose was shocked by the utterance of her name. This was the pony who had questioned her usage of it a while ago. She knew ponies changed… but there was still that surprise when you found out that ponies did. Logically speaking, this wasn’t even that drastic of a change. It was a logical progression, but that made it even more intriguing.
But still, the Honeybee was talking.
“My parents have very particular opinions on these sort of things… I’m scared. I don’t want a name, they might find me.”
Rose looked at the pony in front of her, recoiling from a sting. She knew what is was like to be in their horseshoes, in a blistering thunderstorm. After all, flowers could die from being overwatered. Was this pony trans, like her? That wouldn’t make sense, considering what happened last time they talked. But still, those words…
“Come on, I can try my best to help you, name or not. Your parents sound awful.”
“I think they still love me…” the Honeybee’s voice trailed off. It was almost like they were trying to reassure themselves as much as they wanted to alleviate Rose’s concern.
“But would they try and prevent you from having your own name?”
“They just want to protect me…”
“By preventing you from living your own life?”
The Honeybee was silent. Rose could almost hear their brain buzzing, trying to come up with some excuse.
After an indeterminate amount of time, the Honeybee collapsed face-first on the table, and started shaking and crying. Rose ran around to try and comfort the pony she saw.
“Look, I can’t really do much…” Rose began, but trailed off.
The Honeybee looked up, ocean eyes moist and pleading.
“But I can really try my best. It’s the least I can do. I know you’re strong, and you saying my name means you’re not afraid to embrace it, which says a lot,” Rose began, slipping in closer to the Honeybee.
“But I’m not a real girl…”
“Then I’m not either, and do you really believe that?”
The Honeybee looked at Rose closer. Ocean eyes still moist and pleading, but now also introspective.
Rose left the cafeteria, likely to do something else in the expansive school.
The Honeybee sat and let their thoughts of Rose pollinate.