Without the looming danger that is Vysok, the wolf cub could finally take the open road back home. He preferred walking down the middle, where the asphalt had been ground smooth by years of grinding rubber. They felt easy to his soles. He had no worry about traffic. Cars rarely pass during that time, and if they do happen to come, they'd either be seen from the distant horizon or heard roaring far from behind, giving more than ample time for him to move to the side.
Gloymi had other friends to meet at school. Hence, he walked home alone that day.
Though, that soon changed.
The cub stopped, but not because of a car.
Someone was walking from the opposite end of the road. It was a hazy silhouette, shrouded by the faint, icy most of the cold afternoon. It didn't seem to be in a hurry as it strolled towards the cub from the side.
The cub figured it wasn't anything he should worry about and kept walking.
Half a minute later the cub started to doubt otherwise.
He recognised the figure walking towards him. It was a lizard. There weren't many reptiles where the cub lived. Their biology wasn’t exactly suitable for the weather there. Still, that didn't stop some from trying, all of them holding different reasons for living against their nature. That meant the few reptiles who did reside here were easy to recognise.
Though, in the cub's case, he wished he didn't.
It was the lizard he saw with Tein a few days ago. Back then, within the dark shadows of the room, the cub couldn't quite catch his features. He could only discern the lizard's identity from his build. Now, out in the open light, the cub could discern the lizard clearer than before.
Rough, light brown scales rode down his face. A dark, slit-eyed simper draped on his expression, seeming both innocuous and dangerous. Drooping from the side of his chins were excess skin, falling off in layers of tough, rigid flaps. His body bordered on being stout. He was of average height; it was his width that burdened his image some. Though that might be an illusion from his clothing. He wore a fat, dull purple puffer jacket, complementing it with a pair of skinny jeans that was stretched from the knee-up before falling loose and wrinkled over his thick, black boots. His dark tail stuck out from behind, poking out from above his jeans, swishing as he walked.
The cub kept his head down, walking onwards. The lizard was trouble. He based it all on nothing but intuition alone. The cub had nothing to go by but his own feelings. The lizard could be a saint for all he knew and that he'd be the one in the wrong, but he figured dissociation wouldn't be an issue if the connection was never made.
The cub locked his eyes to the road before and kept moving forward.
He could feel the lizard's presence before him. It was a residual of his sight. It was nothing but a clump of irrationality playing with his mind.
He kept walking.
He started hearing low scratches on the ground. They sounded like thick leather dragging across coarse, rigid rocks.
He kept walking.
"Hey," the cub heard a voice call out. It was spoken in a strange pitch, bordering on being ear-piercing whilst sounding low-toned. It was like a noise tuned to a frequency that catches the cub's attention the most.
He kept walking.
A soft shadow doused over the cub's head.
"Hey," the voice called out once more.
He stopped.
The cub could smell a scent now. It was an unusual stench. It was an indescribable malodor that instead of disgust, generated a different reaction from the cub instead.
It was one of discomposure and revulsion. It wasn't a fear of the unknown, but fear of the volatile.
The voice called out, "Yasnyy, right?"
The cub didn't answer.
"Hey," the voice snapped, its tone switching to a dark, demeaning volume, "Your elder's speaking. Look to his eyes."
The cub looked up.
"Eyes," the voice repeated, "Not jacket."
The cub looked further up.
From what little the lizard showed from between his slit eyelids, the cub saw a dark, brown gaze, staring right down at him from above.
"Good, kids should have manners," the lizard said.
The lizard's eyes changed, as if he noticed something odd.
He asked, "Where's your shoes?"
The cub stayed silent for a second.
"Hm?"
"D-Don't wear them," the cub answered, "G-Got strange feet. They get b-broken."
The lizard seemed sceptical, "You're not pulling a fast one on me, are you?"
The cub shook his head.
The lizard asked again, "Are you sure?"
The cub shook his head once more.
Then the lizard lowered his head, meeting the cub right in his eyes.
"Answer me again," he whispered, his forked tongue poking out between his rough lips, "If you lie, I'll punch your stomach."
The cub looked towards the lizard. A grin was spread across his face. His eyelids were fully open. His gaze was halos of brown within halos of brown, each darker than the one before, falling into his eyes like a bottomless pit. His tail started waving side to side.
"I'm not above disciplining another man's child, y'know?"
The cub swallowed a gulp.
"I'm not lying," he spoke in one quick shot.
The lizard's gaze lingered upon the cub for a while.
Then he stood back up.
"Fine, I'll believe you," he said.
The cub let out a silent heave of relief in his chest.
"Tein says you're off-limits anyway," he said, "Unless there's some special condition-"
The lizard then paused for a moment before rubbing his chin with his fingers.
"Say…" he murmured to himself, "Would 'lying about his shoes' count as a special condition…"
From below, the cub voiced out.
He asked, stammering, "C-Can I go now?"
The lizard snapped back to reality for a second, "Hm? Oh, right, right. Not yet, Tein's got something for you."
The cub felt something sink in his stomach.
Gloymi didn't talk much about Tein. She always addressed him as merely a sibling with nothing beyond their familial relation. As it is now, the cub could only guess from what he witnessed of the tiger back then in the dark room.
Whatever it was, he didn't hold high expectations for it.
The cub asked, "W-what is it?"
As the lizard reached into his jacket's pocket, the cub clenched its body, preparing for the worst.
The lizard pulled out a fist and procured a small wad of cash, all folded in a neat file. The cub kept a wide eye on the money, steeling himself for whatever that comes after. A part of him expected coins to protrude from the lizard's knuckles. Out of instinctual reflex, the cub tensed his abdomen.
But nothing came out. What did happen was a look of frustration from the lizard.
The lizard asked, "Are you slow?"
The cub was startled, "W-what?"
"You a special kid?" the lizard asked, "Need me to spell it out for you?"
The cub shook his head, "N-No."
"Then stop staring," he said, "Take it."
The cub hesitated for the first few seconds. He eventually reached out, but not before the lizard lost his patience. He grabbed onto the cub's hand, dragging his sharp claws on his wrist as he slammed the money into the cub's palm.
"There," the lizard said, "Count it."
The cub asked, "W-what is-"
The lizard cut him off, "Count it."
The cub dared not oppose the lizard. He flipped through the wad, stacking numbers in his head as he brushed through the notes with his fingers, occasionally checking to see if he got the maths correct.
It was the exact amount Vysok had stolen off him.
The lizard asked, "You got it?"
The cub looked up to the lizard and nodded, "T-Thank you."
"Good, you have manners," the lizard said, "Tein wants double of that."
The cub did a double-take on what he heard.
Incredulous, he asked, "H-How?"
"Remember that cat," the lizard said, "The one who mugged you? Damn… what's his name again…"
The cub tightened his grip on the wad of cash.
"Vy-Vysok," he said.
"Right," the lizard said, "You're mugging him back."
The cub didn't ask questions. He merely looked back at the lizard. A fraction of him wanted the lizard to pull a smug grin and shake his hand in humour. He believed that small part of him, so much that he kept his gaze for a little longer, hoping the truth would be revealed at any time soon.
But there never was truth; only the reality before him.
"Tein told me," the cub pleaded, "He said he'll protect us. Me and Gloymi."
The lizard crouched down again, facing the cub from eye to eye.
"The promise was for him to 'stay away from you'," the lizard said, "He never said 'protect'. If I remember right, you're the one who said those words."
The cub felt a small part of his head feigning ignorance despite what was present before him. It was a sudden lapse of his senses. It felt like two ends of a tight string being pulled apart. His head was in denial with the sight his eyes fed it. The cub's mouth, unsure of which signals to receive, played the fantasy his head thought to be true.
The cub tried to speak, "B-but-"
As he stammered, a rough, rigid grin split apart the lizard's face again.
"I'm not above disciplining another man's child," the lizard cut the cub's words short, repeating his previous words, "Not just disrespectful kids. Liars too."
From his position, the cub could see the lizard's fists below his thighs.
The cub had seen Vysok's fist before. The lynx's knuckles looked like his hide stretched across his bones, forcing his skeleton against his skin to form shapes. They were a far cry from the ones in front of the cub.
The lizard's fists seemed to grow hills from his fingers. They looked bigger than his open palm. The calluses on his knuckles seemed like painted caps of iron, with sharp-edged ridges forming from the uneven scales splitting across the back of his hand. His claws dug deep into his palm, both contesting against one another in persistence as the lizard forced his fists harder and harder.
The lizard asked, "Are you a filthy liar, Yasnyy?"
The cub kept his mouth shut. He felt the creased edges of the money bite into his palm beneath his fingers.
He simply wanted the lizard gone. He didn't want this conversation. He didn't want to be on the road. He wanted to be back home, cleaning the house, preparing for dinner, alone for the day.
"No," he said.
"So," the lizard said, "You admit it?"
"Yeb," the cub bit his tongue.
"Don't be so scared. You're just a kid. Kids make mistakes," the lizard said as he stood, "What's important is that they learn from them, right?"
The cub nodded.
"Anyway, that 'stay away' rule. It only applies to that cat anyway. That cat… what's his name…" the lizard drifted off in his head, "See-saw? Pee sock? Tea wok…"
Then the lizard shook his head.
"Whatever, that's what Tein told me," he said, "That cat can't get near you, but you can get near him. Take the money from him. The cat can't do anything to you. You got it?"
The cub stayed silent.
"Hey," the lizard called out, "You get it, kid?"
The cub stammered, "W-what-"
The lizard's attention was caught.
The cub struggled to get the words out, "What if-"
The lizard asked, "What if what?"
Clutching the money, the cub looked up to the lizard.
"W-what if I-I don't want to?"
The lizard flinched for a moment, taken aback by the cub's words. He was surprised. His mouth dropped open slightly for a few seconds before he regained himself.
He asked, "What'd you say?"
"What if," the cub dropped his head to the ground as he said, "A-Asked what if."
"What if," the lizard repeated after him, "Well, can't blame a curious kid. Knowing more is good.
"I don't know what will happen if you don't do what Tein says."
The cub looked up to the lizard.
"Maybe he'll call off the deal," he continued, "Maybe something worse. It definitely won't be better than before.
"Trust that it gets better if you do it. Tein guarantees that. He never goes back on promises. He'll keep his word, and if he can't, he'll make damn sure he does.
"But, like I said, it only gets worse if you betray Tein's trust. It's worse than screwing up. It's like spitting on his face when he handed it to you on a golden plate.
"Plus, you saw what he did to that cat, right?"
The lizard was the one who carried the tiger's orders, but the cub said nothing.
"Tein's giving a generous deadline," the lizard said, "If you get him the money before the week ends, the deal goes on. And who knows? You might get something extra out of it.
"But if you don't-"
The lizard paused for a moment.
"I said what I said."
Then, once more, the lizard lowered his snout, this time with his mouth mere inches away from the cub's ear.
"Nothing comes for free, you know."
The lizard raised his snout and strolled past the cub, leaving him alone again on the open road.
The cub stood there for a minute, motionless, holding the money in his hand. The wad felt jagged within his palm, slicing across the meat of his paw, biting onto his fingers.
He shoved his hand into his pocket and kept walking.
The cash continued snapping into his hand, thrashing in his pocket.
He felt as if the road wouldn't end.
Shiro was shaken awake. Colours slowly seeped into his eyes as he regained orientation of his surroundings. Events of the day ran through his heads. The morning went by as usual, only that instead of World History, he'd spent time doing Chemistry instead. It wasn't as taxing, but it still sent him down a spiral of yawns, ending with his head leaning against the counter, out cold. He dragged his head up from the counter, pulling his shoulders up. He glanced towards his side, finding the blurry image of a lizard reaching towards him.
The wolf flinched for a moment, widening his eyes out of shock as he flung himself away from the silhouette.
"O-oh," he stammered as his sight grew clearer.
There, sitting beside Shiro, was Krin, her palms held open beside her skull, away from the wolf.
"S-sorry," he said.
Krin reached towards her red board sitting atop the counter and wrote, Are you okay?
"Yea," Shiro said, "I'm fine."
Your friend is here to see you, the lizard wrote.
Intrigued, Shiro turned towards the front.
Romps was there, leaning over the counter, his wet nose mere inches away from the wolf's; his eyes, as always, shrouded behind the abundance of fur flowing from his crown.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, his fur ruffling over his snout as he spoke in a hearty voice, "Thought we'd have a lunch date together."
Shiro looked towards Krin for a second and asked, "What's the time?"
"For you to get up and move your feet, that's the time," Romps replied before Krin could write anything.
"But I have to be here," Shiro said, "It's almost-"
"We'll make it quick," Romps quickly answered, "And plus-"
The sheepdog leaned in close towards the wolf's ears, away from Krin.
"We need to talk," he whispered.
Shiro looked at Romps as he moved away from his ear. He glanced back at Krin, unsure of what to say.
The lizard brought up the red board. On it wrote It's okay, I can handle things. Go with him.
Shiro sighed, he got up from the counter circled it towards Romps.
"Chin up," the sheepdog said, "I know a place with free seats."
Shiro glanced back for a moment, watching Krin wave at them as they left for the exit. The wolf gave a slight nod before disappearing out of sight, entering the crowded corridors of the Academy.
"That reptile," Romps called to Shiro, "Cream?"
"Krin," the wolf corrected him.
"Kin," the sheepdog said.
"Krin," Shiro repeated himself.
"That reptile," Romps said, "You never told me she's got quite the asset."
Shiro's chest seized up for a second as he looked away from the sheepdog, his cheeks stiff and rigid.
"Oh, come on," Romps said, "You're sixteen already."
Shiro glanced back down towards the sheepdog.
Romps asked, "You ever sneak eyes on her?"
Shiro didn't answer for a moment.
"Well?"
Shiro kept silent for a while.
Then he answered, "S-sometimes."
"Heh, almost thought you swung the other side," Romps said, "Not that there's anything to it."
They walked for a spell before Romps spoke again.
"I think she's a crocodile," he said.
Shiro glanced towards the sheepdog.
He asked, "Krin?"
"Her skull was darn near a dead giveaway, save for some features," Romps explained, "Her bone structure, her tail, her body. Hell, most reptiles are usually about Vox's size, anyway. The only ones that get that big are tropical variants, and from her scales, it doesn't look like she comes from anywhere near the equator. Best I reckon is that she's a crocodile or alligator of some kind.
Shiro listened with great curiosity.
"Though her knockers are odd. Oi, marvellous pair, don't get me wrong, but bizarre nonetheless," he continued, "Reptiles don't have teats. They shouldn't even have mammary glands. The young come from eggs and feed off from chewed, solid food since birth. That's how they survived back in the spear-chucking years."
Shiro asked, "Spear cooking?"
"The stone age," Romps clarified, "Anyway, the reptiles have bought their evolution since then. No refunds. Only possibility I can think of for that reptile is surgery, and Screen doesn't look like the kind of girl to… what?"
Shiro stared at Romps with wide-eyed fascination.
"You know a lot about this," the wolf remarked.
The sheepdog mouth remained ajar for a moment before he became conscious of the tangent he laid upon Shiro.
"Bah, it's nothing. Something you'd keep a close eye on if you're interested in it," the sheepdog waved it off, though a cheeky smirk was visible on his snout beneath his fur.
Shiro asked, "Want to be a doctor?"
"Nah," Romps said, "That's something for those with too much posh cash to spare and no direction. I'm not one of those lads. I got a direction. It's got similar principles, but they're not from the same line of work if you catch my drift."
Shiro couldn't understand a word from the sheepdog. He nodded regardless.
Then the two walked further, reaching the big hall where the entrance sat, passing the mural of the lion fighting against his shadow, heading towards the opposite wing.
Shiro suddenly asked, "Is it okay?"
Romps looked towards him, "Hm?"
The wolf pointed towards himself, "Not a Senior."
"Bah, no one cares," Romps said, "I always come down here as a Junior runt anyway."
"Oh," Shiro remarked.
They walked some more in mute before Shiro broke the silence.
"What'd you want to talk about?"
Romps didn't answer for a moment.
"We'll discuss when we get there."
The cafeteria sat at the far end of the Senior Wing. It was Shiro's first time venturing beyond his usual territory within the Academy. The corridors were the same but the directions were beyond him. The wolf had some déjà vu's here and there but aside from visual familiarity, Shiro would've been unequivocally lost without Romps. It was like walking into his own house, only that all the furniture within had their positions drastically rearranged. The sheepdog had to lead the wolf throughout the walk.
If there were any changes Shiro could note, it was the students. He was looking at different faces now, not just from students but from their expressions too. They were definite sneers he caught, but their presence dwarfed in comparison to his time back in the Junior Wing. Most kept to themselves, talking with their partners or simply staring straight ahead, paying no mind to the wolf as they strolled past him. He'd even sometimes catch glances of surprise, seeing the infamous transfer students walking down the same room as if he was an anomaly. Still, it was leagues better than the tirade of glares he received. He enjoyed it. For a fleeting moment, Shiro anticipated his turn to walk down these same halls, though he was quickly brought back down to Earth when he thought of the requirements beforehand.
It was as Romps said, the cafeteria had free seats all around. The wolf and the sheepdog could occupy a table each and the place would still have more than enough to accommodate the students. The place was painted in warm, light shades of colour, with circular tables spread across the cold, marble-tiled. Shiro had to do a double-take to see if it was still the lunch rush. A clock sat above the counter where Shiro took a look. They were right in the midst of it. Despite that, the usual crowd seemed to have cut in half. The major presence of students was still there, only that they didn’t need to rub shoulders to move between places. The dining ambience hung around, sharing the air with the faint scent of meat and wheat.
Shiro glanced towards the counter, looking over the heads of students. A rodent manned the station, just as one had with every other cafeteria he's been to. This time, it was a rat. He stood a tad bigger than the others, peering the students with his rather small eyes as he jotted down orders after orders into his notepad. He wore a red silk suit with long sleeves and golden linings, accompanied by a pair of silk pants to complete the set.
Romps asked Shiro, "You want anything?"
Shiro shook his head, "I'm fine."
"Fetch a table for us, then," the sheepdog said, "Preferably somewhere in the corner."
Romps then promptly strolled towards the counter, leaving Shiro on his own.
The wolf found a table in the corner, far away from the general activity. He sat against the wall, waiting for Romps.
The sheepdog came back two minutes later holding a tray with two bowls. One of them was huge, ceramic, and steaming. The other one was made of glass, with an abundance of vegetables piling atop one another.
"Salad," Romps said as he dropped the tray onto the table, placing the glass bowl in front of Shiro, "Eat up anyway. Those pants look like they're gonna drop anytime soon."
Shiro looked at the bowls with vacant eyes for a moment, "Thanks."
Romps had a bowl of beef noodles for himself, digging through it with great ecstasy as Shiro rummaged through his salad, taking small, modest bites as he stared into the distance.
The wolf was halfway through his bowl when the sheepdog placed a phone before him.
On the screen was a still image of the library, taken from an angle seated far away from the mahogany counter, facing opposite of it. Shiro was nowhere to be seen. A figure stood over where Shiro would've been, its back turned on the image, its face hidden from view. Shiro could still see the figure's tail from behind. It was yellow and spotted and had a playful curved, arching upwards from beneath its jacket. Behind the figure was the blurry contours of Krin, the snout of her reptilian skull poking out to the side.
Overlaid over the image was a translucent icon of a triangle facing sideways, sitting in the middle.
"Play it," Romps said.
Shiro stared at it for a moment.
He tapped on the triangle.
The still image turned into a video. The figure started speaking towards Krin, though nothing could be heard. The audio was scuffed by an assortment of ambient noises. The figure brushed its fingers against Krin's hair, its tail swishing side to side. A moment passed before Shiro suddenly popped up from beneath the counter, facing the figure with a panicked expression.
Shiro didn't care to watch. He kept to his bowl, letting the video play on the screen as he ate. The audio didn't change much throughout its playtime. For a good few minutes, it was nothing but white noise, occasionally interrupted by the crackles of someone's finger moving over the microphone.
At some point, a loud clatter erupted from Romps' phone, followed by a sudden absence of the ambience. A few low gasps could be heard.
Shiro could catch a soft voice, coming from the phone. He couldn't discern the words, but it sounded like painful anguish, though that quickly changed when the voice suddenly spoke spiked in laughter before returning to a normal tone, speaking in slow, short sentences.
The voice was then silenced again, this time at a sudden rate. The gasps came again, followed by another silence that lasted no more than a few moments before it’s interrupted again by a low thud of something heavy crashing against the ground and a light clatter of a chair.
Shiro finished his meal, putting the glass bowl on the tray next to the ceramic bowl, both with its contents long emptied.
"You're there yourself," the sheepdog said, "Care to add anything to the table?"
Shiro gave no response.
"I reckon not," Romps said.
Romps took back his phone, shoving it back into his pocket.
The sheepdog asked, "What now?"
Shiro kept his eyes down to the table, his snout closed shut.
"Do excuse my right to avoid the risk of being collateral damage," Romps said, his voice sinking deeper, "I don't want to be a part of this. I won't ask why. I don't want to know why. I just want to know this.
"How will you deal with this?"
Shiro remained silent.
"It doesn't seem to be working, your plan. Now they know where you are and what you're doing," Romps said, leaning towards the wolf, "Hiding is useless. Running isn't an option anymore.
"So what now?"
Shiro didn't reply.
"This is how it's going to be?" Romps asked, his voice rising.
Shiro said nothing.
"You're just letting it pass?" Romps asked, his tone turning darker.
Shiro didn't answer.
"You're just going to sit there and do nothing?" Romps asked, now standing over his seat.
Shiro stayed quiet.
In a fit of rage, the sheepdog slammed his fists over the table, his fur tousled across his face and hands.
"I'm not letting myself get screwed over like this!" Romps barked out from the depth of his lungs.
A rattling silence washed over the cafeteria as all eyes went towards the corner. Both heed no attention towards the staring crowd. Romps kept his fists square on the table, glaring down at Shiro from where he stood, his fur tugged against the bridge of his snout. The wolf was unresponsive, looking up towards the sheepdog from below.
It took a few seconds before Shiro responded on his own.
"That video," he said.
"Yeah, that's what we're talking about," the sheepdog replied, "That vid-"
Shiro asked, "Is it saved in your phone?"
Romps was thrown off for a second.
"Saved? No, it's online," he said, "There's connection everywhere in this-"
"Good," Shiro cut him off, "Need to go somewhere."
Romps relaxed his snout, staring at Shiro for a moment before responding.
"What?"
The wolf got up, pushing his chair back with one hand as he picked up the tray of empty bowls with the other.
"I don’t know this place well," he said, "Need your directions. Take me there. Bring your phone too."
Romps froze, watching Shiro walk towards the counter for a moment before catching up from behind.
The sheepdog asked, “Where are you heading?”
The wolf looked back as he walked, "To deal with this shit."
Shiro went up to the counter, splitting the staring crowd in half as he dropped the tray onto the counter.
“Thank you,” he said as he left. The rat on the counter wasn’t sure what else to do other than to give a gratuitous bow and order the workers behind him to deal with the bowls.
“H-Hey,” the sheepdog followed after Shiro, “Wait up-”
Shiro walked out of the cafeteria, strolling past the entrance in great strides.
Romps called out, “Shiro?”
The wolf kept walking.
“Shiro!”
Dove returned to the dorm on time as usual. He removed his shoe and stepped in as usual. He sat on his bed and took off his uniform jacket, as usual.
Leo was nowhere to be found, absent from his place on the top bunk. Instead, Bara was there, not on the top bunk but in the kitchen, frying up something in a pan on an electric stove. Mild steam blanketed the room, bringing with it a light sizzle and a scent of fried meat. The sun Bear himself was dressed in his usual uniform, but instead of a lab coat, a white apron draped from his neck, covering over his belly to his thighs.
"Ah," he turned around, meeting the Doberman, "Welcome back."
Dove replied with a question, "Where's Leo?"
"Last I saw of him was with some zebras," Bara answered, "Do you need me to relay anything to him?"
The Doberman took off his uniform and stood up, leaving it on his bed, "No."
"I'll be running the laundry after this," the bear called out.
Dove picked up his jacket, taking it with him to the other side of the dorm.
A good few minutes passed, during which Bara turned off the stove and brought the pan to the counter that sat stationary in the middle of the kitchen, bringing with him fired, chopped salmon within an assortment of steamed vegetables. He took off his apron and left it next to the stove as he picked up some silverware. He took a carrot piece, eating straight off the pan while standing.
Dove stepped out from the back of the dorm. He changed from his uniform, wearing a dark, open hoodie with a white tank-top underneath, pairing it with a pair of grey sweatpants. He carried a duffel bag with him, draping from behind his shoulder.
Bara looked up and asked, "Going to the gym again?"
Dove didn't answer. He passed the sun bear and made a beeline back towards the doorway. He picked out a pair of sneakers from the shoe rack and sat down, pulling it over his toes.
"You know Shiro is a person too," Bara suddenly spoke, "Right?"
Dove's fingers paused for a moment as he turned back to meet the bear.
The Doberman asked, "What do you mean?"
Bara picked another vegetable piece this time a small string bean.
"What I mean is," he said, "You should treat him differently from the others."
Dove shot back with a quick question, “Why?”
“Think of your past fights,” Bara suggested, “Then think of this one.”
Dove didn’t give a response.
“You’ve never trained for a fight before,” the bear answered himself.
The Doberman kept a slanted eye on Bara for a moment before going back to fix his sneakers, fixing his heel into it.
“I’ve always been training,” Dove retorted.
“You’ve trained while picking fights,” Bara corrected him, “You’ve never trained for a fight. That’s the difference.”
Dove didn’t take another second to shoot another question, “What’s your point?”
“My point is that you should reflect on this change,” Bara said, “Then think of Shiro’s behaviour.”
Dove spoke with no hesitation, “Why should I?”
“I won’t tell you what to do, but if I were you, I would consider him a little more than you do,” the sun bear answered, “He is still a person, after all.”
Dove asked again, “Why should I?”
“You might push him too far,” Bara answered.
The Doberman asked, “What do you think I’m doing?”
“You might regret it,” the bear answered.
For a moment, Dove froze in place, glaring down at the bear from the doorway.
Bara spoke, “He’s the one who caught your attention. That speaks something about him, doesn’t it?”
The Doberman turned from the doorway, meeting the sun bear face to face.
He asked Bara once more, his voice dropping to a deep, sunken tone.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
He headed back down the doorway, pushing the door open before disappearing into the hallway, leaving Bara alone in the kitchen with his lunch.
The sun bear sighed, and continued picking through his meal.
The sky was already deep into the evening. A vibrant orange dominated the aerial canvass like spilt paint, pouring out from the can that is the waning sun, falling behind the western horizon. In no less of an hour, the canvass would be clearer and darkness would take its place, setting the stage for the moon to follow.
Shiro didn’t know of this, however. Where he was at the moment, it could’ve been the break of dawn for all he knew. To him, the sky was literally painted in light shades of grey; the sun was a fluorescent light tube that never sets and the horizon is dominated by the presence of iron racks holding an assortment of books, dusty and growing yellow.
On the corner of this microscopic universe sat a piano with a sheaf of written manuscript sitting atop. Right across was Krin sitting against it. Shiro stood behind her, holding a blank expression. His eyes stared into the distance, his mind vacant from his pupils.
The lizard turned back, noticing the wolf's empty gaze. She grabbed her red board and wrote, Are you okay?
The wolf didn't seem to notice. Something else was occupying his head, rendering everything else before his eyes nonexistent.
Krin lifted the board towards Shiro's line of sight. That was enough to snap him back to reality?
"...hm? W-What? O-oh," Shiro asked, "S-Sorry. W-Where do I sit?”
Krin brought up the red board, Anywhere is fine.
He asked, “Can I stand?”
The lizard nodded.
The wolf went around the piano, standing adjacent to Krin as he watched the lizard prep herself on the seat.
Shiro asked, “Y-You ready?”
Krin took another brief moment before nodding, raising her shoulders as she looked down onto the piano, laying her fingers upon it, her posture as stiff as boards.
Then, just as she was about to descend upon the keys, Shiro called out.
“W-Wait-”
Krin looked up at the wolf.
“What else should I do?”
“You can only play alone?” Shiro asked, sitting on the seat in front of the piano across from Krin
The lizard nodded, her skull bobbing up and down out of embarrassment.
I can’t play while being watched, she wrote on her red board, My exam is coming up next year. I have to play in front of an examiner.
She paused for a while before writing again.
I promised my mother I’ll pass the test and play for her.
Krin then wrote on her red board, I’m sorry.
Shiro was dazed, “W-Why?”
I lied about the scrapbook, she wrote, the writing seeming messier and worse after each word, I just needed a physical picture to look at me.
As she flipped the board back to her side, her fingers started to shake out of hesitation. She placed the red board on the piano, got off the chair and, to Shiro’s horror, grovelled on the floor before him, her tail lifted her skirt from behind as she tucked her snout between her shoulders.
In a panic, Shiro rushed out of the chair and hoisted Krin up by her shoulders.
“WAIT, WAIT,” the wolf cried.
Krin slowly got up, shambling from her knees as her snout remained facing the floor.
“It’s fine,” Shiro reassured the lizard, “You don’t need to-”
Shiro paused his words when he noticed Krin acting somewhat odd. The tip of her tail curled inwards, tucking between her legs. Her back was hunched, her head hanging low from her neck, as opposed to her usual posture. Her shoulder twitched, jolting up in irregular intervals. From his perking ears, he could catch slight puffs of breaths huffing out from her nostrils.
Confusion struck the wolf as he watched the sight before him. His mind ran circles figuring out what was going on.
Is that- is that crying?
Shiro was unsure of what to do. He wasn’t even sure if his deductions were correct. He didn’t trust himself enough to infer social, much less something as eccentric as this. Whatever that was happening to Krin could be anger for all he knew. He was alarmed. The synapses in his brain fired everywhere in a frenzy in blind faith for hitting a eureka of a jackpot.
He didn’t think a picture was a big deal. Evidently, it was for Krin, even if it wasn’t hers being taken. Still, as the circumstances went at the time, Shiro didn’t know what to say.
In the heat of the moment, Shiro went with his guts and extended his arms, opening his hands towards Krin. He wasn’t sure what came into his head at the moment. It was an alternate contingency plan executed by his reflexes as his brain scrambled to find a solution. He acted from pressure alone, giving no more than a bare acknowledgement to what he did, sparing no thought to it whatsoever. As far as he was concerned, he was simply going with the current.
“H-Hey,” he stammered, “It’s alright. I’m not angry. I-It’s fine.”
Krin looked up for a moment, her shoulders still twitching.
She then opened up on her own. She went towards Shiro and went within his arms, hugging him back with weakened limbs. Due to the height difference, her skull ended up perching between the wolf’s ears. Shiro could still hear the lizard’s inconsistent breaths slowly dying from his consolation, though he was too preoccupied with the height difference to pay notice. His snout was buried in Krin’s chest, and its short length meant there was no escape from breathing down her breasts. Still, he retained his reason and reached his hand over her waist, patting her on the back.
The lizard let go after a while. Her shoulders were stationery now, and her breathing seemed even.
Shiro asked, “You okay?”
Krin gave a solemn nod before looking back down to the floor.
Shiro didn’t know what to say after that. A silence hung over between the two for a moment, letting the low, mechanical hum of the lighting above take their place. It took almost a minute for Shiro to break the silence again.
“I-I can help you practice. Don't know about piano” Shiro suggested, “But I can watch while you play. I’ll be quiet. O-Only listen”
Krin looked up to the wolf, her jaws released, opening ajar.
“I-If you want to,” Shiro promptly added.
Krin reached towards her red board on the piano and wrote, her writing still somewhat chaotic, Is it okay?
“No problem,” Shiro said, “Got nothing to do anyway.”
Krin drew a deep breath and wrote, Thanks.
“S-Sure.”
Another silence fell between the two for another minute.
“So,” Shiro muttered, “W-We do it now?”
We can start tomorrow, Krin wrote.
Tomorrow became today.
You don’t need to do anything, Krin wrote.
“Okay,” Shiro replied.
Krin placed her red board next to her and went back to the piano. She brought her fingers over the keys, waited for a moment, and picked up the red board again.
River flows in you, she wrote.
Shiro was puzzled, unsure of how to respond. His confusion was well-conveyed on his expression, prompting an explanation from the lizard.
It’s the name of the piece, she wrote.
Shiro had next to no understanding regarding anything related to music, much less specific pieces. Still, he went along with it anyway.
“Oh.”
Krin placed her board back on her side and went back to the piano. Once again, she drew her hands over the keys.
A melody flowed out from her fingers. It started soft, singing from the visible strings before the keys. She paused for a moment before repeating the same melody once more.
Her arms then melted, from solid limbs to formless entities.
Krin flung her wrists towards the keys, sending light notes into the air as she brushed her fingers across the piano. The soundscape was dominated by the swift melody emitting from the open cover. Shiro couldn't hear the clicks from her claws. He couldn't hear his own breaths. All he could hear was Krin's composition, oozing out from the instrument in a constant flow.
For a split second, Shiro zoned out, losing sight of Krin. His mind was caught in the stream of notes, pulled away from his head. He caught onto it but just barely, tethering from his sense of hearing alone; his only footing to reality. His grip wasn't vice though, as the music pried into his brain by the roots, tearing through his skull, branch by branch.
The melody played like a strong current flowing through Shiro, dragging a part of the wolf from himself. In one surreal moment, Shiro entered a severed state of mind. It felt as if he had his senses halved. In a bizarre manner, he suspended over his body as if he had two selves. His perception doubled, but his mental strength remained as before, now strained from catching two separate consciousnesses at once. He could sense the marble beneath his bare feet but not the texture. His sight remained in his eyes, only that the colours mixed into one another as the blended mess spilt through objects with little care for solidity; the piano turned from black to a swirl of grey as the floor mixed its marble white with Krin's dark, green scales.
Time was lost to him. He forgot if he was standing or sitting. His eyes were open but they perceived nothing. He tried closing them and still saw everything. The dust-covered scent of the room dissipated. He then realized he couldn't sense anything. The air felt stiff and free; stuffy and breezy. The only sensation that remained was his ears. He could still hear the piano notes turned, but as he listened, the conscious melody started to morph to an amorphous noise, melting it to just an indistinguishable collage of sound.
As Shiro slowly descended into the stupor, he felt something growing in his chest. As the sounds went by, he slowly came to feel that emotion. It was alien to him, almost incongruous to the point where his body reacted in hostility. He forced himself to confront that exotic sensation. He wallowed within it in caution. He began familiarizing himself with the feeling. From what felt to be a second or an aeon, he caught on to that sensation.
Nothing was growing in his chest. The sensation came from his body being drained. The wolf didn't know what he was losing from himself. He only found out there was once something inside and now it was gone, leaking out of his conscious body, slipping away from him. He felt anxious for a moment. He never experienced such a sensation before. His reactions were driving him away from acceptance.
Yet, as Krin played, the sensation persisted. Shiro himself had no say in this, his body was unbound by his mind, uncontrolled by nothing but its own desires. Shiro was a mere spectator to all this, separated from his physical self. He took it all against his will and was subjected to the effects of his drunken senses.
It kept draining the wolf; depleting him of something he never knew he had.
He remained in such a state, uncertain for how long his imprisonment had been.
Then, for a flash of an instance, Shiro felt pleasant towards the sensation.
Then, the melody suddenly snapped to a halt, sending Shiro's ears to a whiplash. The chill from the marble floor spiked through the wolf's soles and whipped his mind back to reality. His body sunk back to the ground along with his weight. The sensation he felt just before was simply nulled. It was like an abstract moment pulled straight out of the passage of time with both ends reattached as if nothing ever happened in between, as there was no 'between' to speak off in the first place.
Shiro looked back towards the lizard in a daze. Her once straight posture was now bent as her fingers stayed crooked over the piano, shaking as she skull hopped from the manuscript to the keys below her. Amidst all that, Shiro spotted a few instances where her snout made furtive glances towards him.
Shiro stammered, "W-What happened?"
Krin looked towards Shiro, her hands still hovering above the piano. Shiro then made the realization.
"It's fine," he quickly reassured the lizard, "You did well. Keep going."
The lizard glanced back towards the piano for a second before shaking her skull. She straightened her back and balled her fingers into fists. She took a few moments for herself and repeated from where she had begun.
The melody began, and Shiro listened with attentive ears. There was still a light tingle in his body but it was nowhere near to the sensation he felt moments earlier. He felt a slight elevation within himself, but not the ecstatic delirium he experienced. He felt somewhat lightened by the piano, but compared to what happened before, this was a trickle to an unstoppable deluge.
He didn't know why he was chasing that sensation. Perhaps it was to make sense of what happened prior; to find some semblance of an understanding towards those few moments he went through that never happened.
The music suddenly stopped again. Krin was bent down once more, her limbs stricken with anxiety and nervousness as she struggled to find the right notes again.
"Just keep playing," Shiro calmed her down and added, "Slowly."
Krin glanced towards Shiro and nodded. She went back to the piano and continued the composition, this time at a leisurely pace. She still hit bumps and mistakes as she played. It happened like an inconsistent clock. She'll slip a finger too far and do it again barely a minute later. Sometimes she could go through one page's worth of composition unhindered before meeting the inevitable.
She repeated the piece many times as she attempted to complete all the pages without a hitch. Her dream was always stopped short within the final few pages. As time passed, her mistakes cropped up earlier and more frequently, slipping her fingers and missing crucial notes, sometimes even on the first page.
As for Shiro, he never caught that sensation again. He gave it up and relegated himself back to his original role instead. He simply stood and listened, keeping a casual eye on Krin as she struggled to play. He felt bad at times. He was well aware of the pressure he was putting on the lizard. That was what he was supposed to do but still, he couldn't lie to his own feelings.
As time passed, it became apparent that it'll only go downhill. He stopped Krin short from breaking down once more as she wrestled with even playing through the first bar undisturbed.
"W-Why not try again tomorrow?" Shiro suggested, "It's late anyway."
The lizard was already on her last wits. She seemed one gentle breeze away from crumbling down from pressure. She was already hunched over the piano, her fingers dangling from her hands like weak bundles of sticks.
She glanced up towards the wolf, her snout lingering in place for a moment or two before nodding weakly. She pushed herself away from the piano, taking the papers and the red board with her.
The two walked out of the hidden room and back out to the library. Unbeknownst to them, the sky was already on its final glimmer of light. The growing ubiety of the night gave a different atmosphere to the library as it loomed over the glass ceiling; it felt like a kind of silence only found in an uninhabited land. To Shiro, it felt as if they'd traversed into an area undiscovered until now, and that they were breaking a sacred state of peace with their presence alone.
Krin might've shared the same sentiment as they walked fast towards the mahogany counter where their bag and briefcase sat, eager to leave the scene.
Shiro double-checked the contents of his briefcase as Krin stuffed everything in her hand into her grey sling bag.
The wolf turned towards the exit, only to face the lizard. Her hands held her signature red board with something written upon it.
Thank you.
Shiro looked towards Krin, "It's fine. Was nice hearing you play."
I've never practised this much before, Krin wrote again, Thank you.
Shiro didn't say anything. He simply nodded.
Krin then wrote, Shall we go?
Shiro nodded to that too.
As they made their way towards the exit, Shiro felt something in his chest. It wasn't the bizarre sensation he experienced back in the hidden room next to the piano. It felt more muted than that, and was much easier to recognize.
Valued, was what he felt. Helpful. Appreciated. He rarely had that emotion. It wasn't as overwhelming as before, but he liked it more.
He couldn't wait for tomorrow to come
Shiro split ways with Krin at the junction between the Boys' Dormitory and the Girls' Dormitory. Before they separated, Shiro asked Krin if she always leaves as early as she did yesterday and today. She nodded. Shiro gave his thanks and farewells before leaving the lizard, making his way towards the familiar building. As he walked, he set a mental alarm in his head and promised to sleep early that night. It didn't matter as he always awakens at the same moment every day. Still, he wanted to take extra precautions. He didn't want to miss the time.
He stepped through the lobby. It was relatively empty, save for a few milling around by the vending machines and the lounge chairs. There, the anaconda sat behind the counter, as always. It tipped its SECURITY cap towards Shiro.
"Eveningsss," it hissed, its tongue flickering into the air.
The wolf nodded as reciprocation.
"You's seemth muchth greath mood'sss," it said.
Shiro stopped for a moment, wondering what the snake meant by that.
The snake raised its tail and jabbed the tip towards Shiro.
"Your's tailsss…"
Shiro checked his back. His curved tail was wagging like crazy, throwing itself around at a ridiculous rate almost as if it’s fanning itself. In an embarrassed panic, he gripped the base and gave another furtive nod, rushed towards the elevator hall. He could hear the snake snorting a little from its giant snout as he sprinted past the counter.
The elevator hall was empty. Shiro didn't care to pick and choose. He went towards the closest elevator and called it. The door swung open in an instant. He stepped in, pressed his floor and took several deep breaths. He let go of his hand. His tail seemed to have calmed down, suspending from his back, motionless.
He looked back in front. A light, mechanical click was heard, and the elevator began its ascent. With it came a low hum, emitting from the machine.
It didn't take long when the elevator made its first stop. It barely rose a few floors before the doors swung open again. Shiro stepped to the corner of the room, making space for those that might enter.
The elevator was soon occupied by more than half a dozen students, the odour of sweat and drool oozing from their bodies as they stepped in. They were all dressed in light clothing. Shiro recognized some of the logos on their shirts and shorts. They all belonged to sportswear companies. He figured this was the floor where the dormitory's gym sat.
The students didn't seem to notice the wolf, chatting amongst themselves within their own bubbles, ranging from big groups to simple pairs. They filled the elevator with bustling chatter; a welcome replacement to the droning silence from before.
That was short-lived, however.
Dove stepped in as the last occupant. He stepped through the open doors last, standing at the opposite corner from Shiro. His fur was dishevelled. His jacket was hastily draped on his shoulders and pulled on one side by his duffel bag. Before anyone could do anything the doors slid shut and the elevator resumed its ascent.
Shiro's reflexes slammed into him like a train. He tried to hide himself among the crowd. It was useless. The tallest ones in the elevator right now were both him and the Doberman. The second runner-up was a Great Blue Heron that stood up to Shiro's chest at best. Both Dove and Shiro were the only canines in the elevator. The rest were either medium-sized birds or rodents.
Shiro tried to be discreet, leaning on the corner with a casual expression as he tucked his hands in his pockets. It was fruitless. The instant Dove stepped in, the wolf got made out by the Doberman. His glare was set straight on him ever since, the intensity of which seemed more muted than before, but Shiro didn't care to make that distinction.
Dove's presence didn't go unnoticed by the others either. The chatter died down several volumes, reduced to just whispers among friends, in fear of inducing the Doberman's volatility.
Shiro was the only one that understood the situation, though he preferred not to be in his position.
The elevator came to its second stop. The door swung open, and out went a couple of mice, followed by a few squirrels. They left in a quick, few seconds, skittering out of the room in record time.
Both Shiro and Dove paid no mind. The two kept an unsevered line of sight, staring down one another from each corner of the elevator.
The doors slid shut again. The elevator grew more vacant. The mechanical buzz showed itself one more, climbing back into the dying soundscape.
Shiro was in a state of heightened awareness. There was no telling what Dove would pull at that moment. His limbs were stiffened, his joints relaxed, ready to react at the slightest bounce from the Doberman.
The elevator stopped for the third time. A flock of birds rushed out without leaving so much of a lingering scent. Only a few remained. None dared make a sound. The cold, mechanical hum completely dominated the room, taking a near physical omnipresence within the elevator.
Shiro stood in anticipation.
The elevator ground to its fourth pause on the next floor. Everyone rushed out at once. Bird, mammal, rodent and all; the two canines stayed. Shiro suspected some didn't reach their floors. They simply left out of pressure. The doors slid shut again. This time there was no hum, nor was there any silence. There was only Dove's presence, his glare clamping down on his five senses.
Shiro didn't know why he stayed. He wondered why he didn't rush out along with the others. It hadn't crossed his mind until he was alone with Dove, face-to-face with the beast.
Shiro's suspicions were true; the elevator came to its fifth stop and the door swung open. There was nobody left to leave, save for Shiro himself.
Out, he told himself, Now.
His body didn't move.
Rather, his body didn't feel the need to move. His mind screamed to his nerves, telling him to get out. Yet, he remained. His head was panicking, his heart beating like a mad drummer, but his legs stayed rooted in place without an ounce of urgency.
"Hey," Dove suddenly spoke.
The Doberman caught Shiro off guard. By the time the wolf realised, the doors had slid shut again. The elevator resumed its climb up the floors, carrying still the two canines with it.
Shiro looked back towards Dove, his palms now gripped into tight fists in his pockets, ready for anything.
"Calm down," Dove growled.
The wolf pushed himself from the corner of the elevator.
"I'm not ready yet."
Shiro kept his knuckles primed.
"I'll look for you myself," the Doberman said, "When the time comes."
The elevator made its sixth stop. The screen above showed the numbers 14. Shiro stood in place. He held the door from the side, blocking it with his palm. He pushed himself towards Dove, standing half a head’s height over the Doberman as he glared down at him.
"That won't happen," Shiro growled.
The wolf left at a swift speed. He released his hand and the door slid shut before Dove could even react, leaving the Doberman alone in the elevator.
"Leo isn't back yet," Bara said to Dove as he threw his sneakers down the doorway.
The Doberman ignored the sun bear and stormed past the bunk beds. Bara could only stare in stunned silence as threw his duffel bag on the floor, making a beeline towards the back of the dorm.
Dove crashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. He leaned against the sink and flipped open the tap. A strong current burst through the faucet. He cupped the bottom of the tap and splashed his face, washing off his cheeks and his snout. He did this many times.
The image wouldn't go away.
Staring above. Seeing from below.
The image grew more vivid, the details bleeding into the scene in his head.
Red. Blood red.
He let the sound of rushing water dominate his ears.
Looking down. Dark.
He washed down his face again.
Glowing.
He grasped onto every individual droplet flowing off his face.
Crimson.
He could hear a voice from the image.
That won’t happen.
He turned off the tap.
He rested his hands on the rims of the sink.
He glanced up to the mirror, staring into his reflection. Dark, bronze rings glared back at his face. The small, orange patches sitting above his eyebrows were crumpled into folds and wrinkles, pulled down by the skin on his snout.
The image still sat in his mind.
Unbeknownst to him, his cheeks started to unfurl themselves upwards. He didn’t notice until he saw the whites of his teeth poking out from the side of his snout, glimmers dancing across the surface under the open light of the bathroom.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, but he had to, for his own sake.
He smiled toward the mirror.
When the time comes.
He couldn’t wait for the time to come.
