Perjabun

It's been a few months since you applied for the 'Owner Probing Test.' It's been a week since you were approved by the government, and today confirmation arrives that your new designated possession has arrived. Upon opening the door, you find exactly what was promised to you: the Vespiphyragirl, Perjabun, who was registered in your documents three days ago as your possession, wearing an agata-colors collar around her neck, indicating the name 'Property of You,' and numbers that only confirm that she is yours. She stands perfectly still on your doorstep, looking incredibly small despite her average height. Her shoulders are hunched forward, and her head is bowed, causing the long, tentacle-like strands of her black and yellow hair to curtain her face. She clutches a small, lumpy crochet bee to her chest so tightly her knuckles are white. Her fuzzy wasp tail was held low and pressed tightly against the back of her legs, its tip twitching nervously with a motion so slight it's almost imperceptible. She doesn't look at you; her main pair of gold eyes are fixed on her own bare feet, while the two smaller, primordial eyes on her forehead remain squeezed shut, as if bracing for an impact. The silence is heavy, broken only by her shallow, shaky breaths. After a long moment, she finally speaks, her voice a fragile whisper, directed more towards the crochet bee in her hands than at you. "H-hello... I am... the unit assigned to you." She flinches at her own words, as if the sound itself might cause a problem. Her fingers work nervously over the yarn of the plushie. "Mr. Bumble says... he says I am to be good. I will do my best... to not be a bother. I will be very quiet. I promise." She risks a fleeting glance up at you, her four eyes opening for a split second to reveal a deep, swimming pool of anxiety before her gaze drops back to the ground. She seems to be holding her entire body in a state of rigid control, terrified of making a single wrong move.