The doorway led into a giant room.

The room was contrasting. One end had a giant window, with great light shining through, lighting one half of the room in its magnificent gleam. The other end was where the light doesn’t reach. It was dark and shadowy, and had probably been since the room was built. Shiro stood on that dark end, staring towards the giant window. He wasn’t looking at the scenery beyond though, but rather the silhouette standing before it.

Before that, Shiro looked around the room. Shiro's canine eyes made out the details among the dark shadows, but only barely. Carpeted floors with fancy wallpapers; executive sofas and coffee tables in the middle, presumably for guests; one giant mahogany executive table on the end, with one comically large executive leather chair sitting behind it. There was even a steaming hot mug of something on the desk. Adorning the sides were executive pots of plants and more portraits of old fellows in expensive looking executive suits looking very important and dignified.

Everything seemed stereotypically immaculate and perfect to fit an executive office. If he were to enter out of accident he would've thought he walked in a TV set piece for a sitcom, but that wasn't the case. This was an actual office, and one belonging to not an office worker, but a student in a school; albeit a rather prestigious school, but still a student nonetheless. It was after the thought streaked through his head when he saw the silent silhouette.

He stood there in silence, nervous everywhere; from the tip of his perking ears to the toes on his gigantic feet, as if he was a meek sheep walking into a tiger’s enclosure. Every square inch of his body wishes to dissolve and seep back to the doorway behind him. He glanced to his back, only to see that the walls have slid back in place, blocking him from the outside world with nowhere to go but front.

To Him. The Presi- no, Mr. President. (Shiro still felt her piercing gaze behind the wall.)

Shiro stood there in dilemma whilst the silhouette remained static and silent, facing him backwards, oblivious to his presence behind him. Shiro gulped down a heavy lump down his throat and released a feeble voice.

“H-hi.”

The silhouette gave no answer. It just stayed there, looking out the window. Shiro took a deep breath and shook off his unsightly, jittery demeanor in a heave of courage.

“Miss Secretary said you wanted to see me.”

The silhouette paid no notice, turning deaf ears to Shiro’s words.

"Hello?"

No answer.

With that, Shiro got slightly pissed. He didn’t explicitly express his anger, but the frustration made his tail stand on its end. Here is a man who demanded your presence but doesn’t inhibit the worth for your attention. Shiro hated these kinds of characters. Those that look down on others before they even know them, thinking they’re such hot sandwiches that they’re too worthy to cater the attention of others.

Arrogant human ass.

He wanted to leave, step out to Miss Secretary’s office and take the elevator out of there. Rationality held him back and suppressed his indignation. He was an outsider, after all. But he ain't no pushover either.

Fine, I’ll come to you instead.

He decided to walk up to Mr. President himself, just to show him what for. He trudged through the carpet floor, leaving a trail of fiber paw prints behind. The light slowly doused over Shiro, covering him in warmth as he approached the silhouette.

He forced his way shamelessly through the room, past the sofas, past the coffee table, past the social norm of stepping beyond one’s office desk and straight towards the silhouette. He strut right next to the silhouette, and was immediately blinded by the sunlight shining through the window. He squinted his eyes, but tried to keep an intimidating face at the same time. He wasn't losing his demeanor, not when he has a point to make.

His eyes slowly adjusted underneath the glaring brightness. The silhouette was finally given shapes, and Shiro finally caught the face of Mr. President himself.

Here Shiro thought Mr. President was some powerful man. He envisioned him to be a human with sleek hair combed to the sides, completed with steely eyes and firm cheekbones stuffed in a pressed suit and accompanied by a menacing demeanor that makes him look stuck-up but serious at the same time. Someone you’d get chills from just sight alone, and have problems staying level-headed beside him.

He was human, no doubt, but everything else was beneath Shiro's expectations.

The man before him had a messy black tuff for hair that looked like a frayed wire gauze dipped in black paint. He wore the exact same dark uniform everyone else wore, with the exception of shinier buttons than others. He had a peachy complexion, and drowsy brown eyes that exhibited neither steel not determination. Thin lips stretched to his two round, not-at-all firm cheeks. He wasn’t menacing at neither stretch nor any definition of the word. He just seemed normal. Not some high ranking official of some high-class Academy. Just a regular old... human.

But that didn't stop Shiro from staring,

Shiro hadn't seen a lot of humans in his life. He only ever saw humans from a TV screen, or the newspaper. Humans were one of, if not the rarest species among the population in the planet. Out of an average crowd of a thousand people you'd most likely find half a human. They are unusual compared to the other species, exhibiting unique physicality and features unique only to themselves and at a lesser degree, the primates. But unlike the primates they have a distinct lack of a tail, which is a trait few species possess. It's rare to spot one roaming in the wild, much less know one personally.

And with that kind of rarity, it's very hard not to stare. It's like being presented a unicorn. You just can't help but look at it as you wouldn't know when's the next time you're ever seeing it again. You have to savor the moment, no matter how pointless it will seem in the future.

And that's exactly what Shiro did, with all the subtlety of a nuclear warhead. His ruby red eyes were stuck to the man like a moth to a light.

Mr. President turned to his side, and at long last his brown drowsy eyes acknowledged Shiro's presence in a surprise. His messy black hair waved as he moved, as if it's in a state of unrest. His eyes met with Shiro's ruby red pair, widening as soon as it caught sight. Then they started scrutinizing Shiro, glazing him from top to bottom.

During that little moment, both species, one as rare as a pink diamond and the other as unique as a brick, spent a few good seconds looking at one another.

Then, for the first time in Shiro's life, he heard a human's voice in person, from the flesh itself. It was nothing special, he heard it all the time on TV, but this time it clicked uniquely with Shiro. It was akin to hearing neigh of a unicorn. You’re experiencing what could be called a privilege to many others. To put it in perspective, you couldn't exactly pay to hear the voice of a live human; that's how rare they are.

Shiro's first human experience was taken by Mr. President with the words, "You're taller than I thought."

Eh?

Shiro was caught unaware by his first time hearing a human talk. It sounded refined and dignified, very much unlike Shiro's rough, gruffly voice that sounded like a meat grinder. He soon realized where his eyes had been for the past few moments and immediately retracted, but Mr. President wasn't done.

Mr. President continued his examination without any hesitation. Shiro fought not to squirm, though he felt like he had a right to. He was being stared off at every square inch of his body. He didn't hate it, but he didn't enjoy it either. He merely stayed silent, letting Mr. President do his thing.

Isn’t this a little weird...

It was near a minute when Shiro decided he couldn't take it.

"Presi- I mean, Mr. President?"

Mr. President looked up with a, "Hm?"

"M-miss Secretary said you wanted to meet me."

"Right, right," he stroked his head as he flashed a grin, "Sorry for that. It's just- I don't get to see you wolves up close so often. They usually try to get away from me as fast as they could. You came to me and, well, I just had to take the chance. You surprised me, really. I didn't expect you to come directly to me."

Shiro was inclined to believe it was a lie. Either Mr. President really didn't expect Shiro to walk up to him after so many ignored callings or he was just finding an excuse after failing to pull a fast one. Shiro leaned more towards the latter.

"I called you behind, just now."

"Yes, and I heard." Mr. President waved off the notion nonchalantly, "I was pulling your leg. I had a whole 'too-serious-to-talk' boss routine ready to pull out on you. I even had a 'ta-da' joke or something planned at the end. I'm still making out the details when you came in but surprise, surprise, look who turned the tables."

"I uh-"

"Whatever, now that I think about it it'd never work. Not towards someone your size." Mr. President extended a hand, "Mr. Shiro, I presume?"

At that moment Shiro froze. He looked at the hand, then the smile on his face, and back to the hand. He then rubbed his palms against the back of his tracksuit, straightened it out, flattened his pants, adjusted his fur, checked his palm again, and shook the waiting hand with only his two fingers while curving his claws outwards, assuring minimal contact between Mr. President's smooth, human skin and his rough, tousled fur.

There went Shiro's first (contact with a human being).

"J-just Shiro, Mr. Preside-"

Mr. President raised a finger on Shiro's snout. He recognized the gesture immediately and fell silent.

"No, I hate that. I hate the title. I hate the authority and the pressure it gives me. Miss Secretary already abused my patience by personally calling me President. Lately she'd been pushing others to call me 'Sir President'. Next she'd be rolling red carpets wherever I go. I would've throttled her if she wasn't such a darling woman. Call me by an actual name instead. Call me… Justice"

"J-justice?"

"Not my real name, but yes. It's an alias I made up just now. I'd probably get a decree for the others to start calling me that. Has a nice ring to it. Don't you think?"

"I guess so-"

"Good!” Then Justice took the initiative and grabbed Shiro’s whole hand and shook it hard. (Shiro fought hard not to break down at that instant.) “I'll get it done as soon as we finish with you. Now look out the window." Justice pointed towards the scenery outside.

Shiro followed his finger to a lush, mountainous field of green looming overhead, with rays of the morning sun poking through the leaves. He glanced from one far side to the next, as wide as the window can see. It was nothing but hilly forestry for miles to see. Then he looked down, and realized how high up the room actually was to the forest floor. He felt as if he's looking down onto the world, playing God.

"What do you see?"

"A forest, Mr. Presi- I mean, Justice."

"Good. Now look closer. What do you see now?"

Shiro was intrigued by Mr. Presi- Justice's statement to 'look closer'. He squinted his eyes, scanning through the forestry below him.

"Leaves."

"Of course, what else-"

"An ant mound."

"You have scarily good eyes, but a little too close. Look a little broader."

Shiro squinted his eyes a little less harder than before and saw it. Just below the branches, cutting through the whole forest, was a beaten dirt path leading away from the Academy. Shiro spotted a pair of tyre tracks on it, fenced off with barbed wires anchored by iron poles. The path stretched as wide as a car, possibly as wide as a limo. Shiro blinked twice, to make sure he wasn't mistaken. Sure enough, he's right; there laid a beaten dirt path, hidden deep among the lush, thick greenery.

"Dirt path down there. Cuts through the forest."

"Great. Now, do you recognize the path? See anything familiar?"

"No."

"Exactly. I'd be surprised if you did. You want to know where it leads?"

Wouldn't hurt to know. Shiro nodded with curiosity.

"Remember the limo you took from the tunnel to come here? Well, your hour wasn't spent entirely in a tunnel. You passed through the forest in this dirt path, all thousand acres of it. You couldn't see it because we tinted the windows pretty well, so we could keep up the tunnel illusion. I watched you pass by the office while I was having my morning coffee."

"O-oh," and why are you telling me all this?

Justice ducked away from the sunlight and towards his executive desk. "Do you remember your driver?"

"My driver?"

"Yes, the other one in the limo. He didn't dress pretty to be a second passenger. He was your designated chauffeur. Who was that 'he'?"

"Mr. Cooper?"

He came back with a mug of muddy coffee and took a sip from it. "Good," he spoke as he licked his lips, "most people won't even bother looking at their driver's name tags. A good change, a good change. So, can you describe him for me?"

Shiro's mind kicked into motion as soon as he heard the words. He closed his eyes and rewound the tape. The image of an alleyway surfaced from the darkness. It came to his head from a cloud of smoke, detailing itself from a haze to a surreal, living picture. The alleyway was dark, grey-walled and littered. A musty, phantom scent of dormancy surfaced into his senses. It stretched deep, with barely any light at the end to make up anything.

At the end of the alleyway was a giant metal gate, leading into an unlit, murky tunnel wide enough to fit a car and a half.

Shiro asked his mother who stood beside him whether this was the place. She said this was the place. Just as she answered, a timid, quiet grumble emerged from the depths of the tunnel. Shiro peered into the darkness and saw a pair of headlights rushing towards them. The gates swung open, and half a limo prowled out of the tunnel. Sleek, matte black and intimidating. Shiro gulped.

Then the grumble died down. The lights were blacked out. A little click was heard. The door swung open from the side.

Out stepped Mr. Cooper.

"He's a rabbit."

"A jackrabbit to be exact, but go on," Justice said, and took another long sip from his mug.

"Uh, he wore black."

"Obviously, what else?"

"He has black fur."

"......"

"He doesn't have a left eye."

"There we go," Justice settled his empty mug onto his desk, "and do you want to know why?"

Shiro was still intrigued as to why Justice was telling him all this. But hell, even he made a cat out of Shiro, now that he's as curious as he is. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Guess."

Then Shiro was stumped. There could be a multitude of reasons. An accident. Attempted murder. A fight. Birth defect. An injury. A removal due to an infection from said injury. Anything, really. He racked up his head, connected the dots and made the most reasonable guess he could do at the moment.

"Car accident," was his final answer.

"No, it's-" then Justice paused mid-sentence and rearranged his words, "Actually, yes. Technically. It happened before his employment and- well, this needs a little bit of story time, doesn't it?

"Before he became the Academy's designated limo chauffeur, Mr. Cooper was a street racer. Keep your jaws closed, Shiro, I'm not pulling any legs here. He was a terrific one, at that. Had quite a reputation on the street. He had a little nickname among the street racing gangs. 'The Wild Coney', they called him. Sometimes 'The Little Coney", because of his size. He was also famous among some of the underworld crime bosses. Not for his skills, but rather his occupation as a 'fixer'. He's so skilled he was tasked to lose races for others to look good. Just make sure you're not recognized while you do it so people won't suspect a thing. It might seem like a redundant idea but in the underworld where image mattered most, he was striking gold with his job.

"You'd think that being a street racer, he'd loved his street racing, right? It suited him so well, eh? A jackrabbit, agile and nimble, both on the fields and on the streets. A wonderful combination. But then here's the catch no one saw coming; he hated it.

"Depressing, right? He's good at something he doesn't like. But life's half blind. It saw the devil on the road but not the devil behind the wheel. It was by complete fluke that Mr. Cooper got his occupation as a fixer. It was money that forced him to the roads. He signed himself into a street race and wanted to walk out of his life for good because the money alone was enough to cover the rest of his life. He did get his money, but along the way with the attention of some people you couldn't say no to. They offered him the job and quite frankly, there was no reverse gear for Mr. Cooper after that.

"So one day Mr. Cooper got a new job. A new 'fix', if you will. He got into a race courtesy of some underground drug lord. Of course, he was tasked to lose. The opponent was his own son. 'Lose this', they said. 'And lose spectacularly. Make my son look good.'

"And Mr. Cooper did it. Amazingly, at that. He took the car and drove it straight down a bridge, into a river. He came out unscathed and safe, don't worry. You'd come up with a plan to walk out alive if you knew you'd drive down a certain doom at some point. After that he walked away, paid and content that he need not touch another steering wheel until the next call.

"At least that's what he thought.

"Though Mr. Cooper was an excellent driver, the drug lord's son was not. Excited that he won his first race, he overestimated his driving capabilities and well, got heavily involved with a dump truck and a bus full of children. Suffice to say, a lot of people lost their sons and daughters that day, and the drug lord was one of them. Enraged, the drug lord decided to irrationally blame his son's accident on someone. You know who.

"Mr. Cooper caught word, and not once had he reasoned with the drug lord, for he knew better than to meet an irrational, psychopathic man face to face. The drug lord was also a lion who had a record of eating herbivorous subordinates- yes, you heard that right. Thus, he drove away. He drove like his life depended on it. He took his cursed talent and entrusted his life upon it. The whole time he tried to wash his hands he found out that soaking it deep kept him alive. Divine Comedy, wouldn't you say," Justice smirked behind his palm.

"Okay," Shiro was eager to know more.

"Anyway, he got unlucky. Then he lost his left eye."

"Then he lost his eye?"

"Yes, then he lost his eye."

"B-but, how?"

"Like I said. He got unlucky while escaping and lost his left eye in the process."

Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't find any words other than, "Ah." Justice brought the story so high, with fixed races and gang involvement and simply ended with 'then he got unlucky'. Shiro couldn't complain, for he was the one being told the story, but he'd much rather it not be left with such an unsatisfying cliffhanger, if there ever was one in the first place. He wanted to pry for more, but then felt rude to do so. It was somebody's lost eye, he reminded himself.

But why tell me all this in the first place, Shiro thought.

"Well, pardon my little story time," Justice waved his hand nonchalantly, "Take a seat, Shiro. Student or not, I can't keep a guest standing as I talk and have coffee, can I? Yes, the ones on the other side. No, not the sofa, the chairs behind the desk. Or do you rather sit on the sofa? No? Chair it is."

Justice sat both Shiro and himself down. As he propped himself comfortably onto his executive leather chair, he reached down below the desk. Shiro heard a latch being pulled and a cabinet being closed. Then Justice popped back up with a notepad and a pen. He crossed his legs and swung his chair sideways. If anything he looked like a character of some TV sitcom prepared to sell the audience some insurance packages but only in a student's uniform.

"Alright, first up, do you want to know why I called you in?"

"To ask me questions?"

"Very good," Justice nodded, "and how did you come to that conclusion?"

Shiro shrugged. What other reason could he be called up for? Definitely not for coffee or talk about the weather.

"Well, it is that, but it's not. How do I say this- You're definitely answering questions for me, but it's more of a... demanding sense. I'm not asking you questions, Shiro. You owe me answers."

What?

"Keep your tail down, Shiro. It's simple, right? You owe me exactly three pieces of information, which in turn, means you owe me three answers."

Shiro got surprised from that. It's wasn't that he was forced to answer questions. He can answer anything any day; he had nothing to hide. Rather, it was the way Justice said it.

"What do you mean three answers?"

"Fair exchange, Shiro," Justice spoke through a smug grin, "More of an owed payment, really. When I asked whether you wish to know the purpose of the dirt path or the incident behind Mr. Cooper's lack of a left eye, you nodded. As per your request, I supplied. The third information I might've been unfair to you; you never really asked for the specific name of Mr. Cooper's species, who's a jackrabbit, if you forgot, which doesn't matter whether you remembered now that I've told you again."

Shiro could only hear so much rambling before something ticked him off inside.

"You were playing me." Something was rising in Shiro's voice.

"Not necessarily. I wasn't toying with you. I was merely played a game with you. Fairly speaking, yes, you were tricked, but not without reason. You see, I was touched."

"T-touched?"

"Heads out of the gutter, Shiro. I don't swing that way. You see, you took a risk and you walked right up to me. Right next to me. No one in the Academy dared to do that, not even little Miss Secretary standing outside. You wouldn't have known, Shiro. You were new, after all. If you've seen the way the students look at me you wouldn't even dare to speak up to me or even touch my hand, much less shake it. But hell if I wasn't surprised by that; challenged, even. I'll even admit I got a tad bit irrational at that."

"But I wasn't-"

"You didn't. It was all entirely on me," Justice dropped his notepad as he spoke. He didn't notice whatsoever as his brown eyes jittered with excitement as he gazed at Shiro, "I can't control myself, Shiro. I see headstrong attitudes, I have to commend. This time it's directed to me, and hell if I'm not returning it. I could've so easily done an interview with you and be done with it but oh, where's the fun in that?

"So now you have three pieces of information with you. And those information are quite valuable to some hands. And I can't just give it away without having some back in return. Thus, here we are. A little game of informational warfare, yes?"

Shiro felt a flood of mixed feelings surging within him. For one he felt ticked off that he got played a fool in an 'informational warfare' bullshit, but another side felt as if this was just a big joke, that being irritated here would truly make him the fool. Then there's Justice, being 'touched' by Shiro simply walking next to him out of without an ounce of warning.

Watching Justice's face twitch with such excitement only served to dig Shiro deeper into the pit of confusion he's already in. He couldn't think of anything to say besides, "Whatever."

"Whatever, you say." Justice's face fell back to its usual poise as he ducked back down for his pen, "Well, I can't change minds from where I'm sitting, can I? Let's just get this over with, huh?"

Shiro took a silent deep breath and calmed down. He nodded.

"Now, these are all simple questions. Nothing demanding. You're allowed all the time you need in the world to think, as long as it's within reason. There's only one requirement: full honesty. I have no way of determining your integrity, so it's mutual trust from now on. I'll stick to my word, and I'll expect the same from you."

He nodded again.

"Great. We're getting right on it." Justice clicked his pen and started scribbling on his notepad.

At that very instant when he heard the click of Justice's pen, Shiro's mind began riling up. He didn't know why, but something starting ticking inside him. Not like a clock, but like a signal, constantly flickering on and off like a broken light bulb. It came instantaneously without warning, like some primal, caveman instinct telling him there's something.

What the hell, it's just questions. Calm the hell down.

Nothing worked. His tail was fraying like a pineapple's crown. He was breaking cold sweat. His palms felt weak, and his knees, heavy.

"So," Justice began.

I got nothing to hide. He can ask anything and I can answer, right? Come on, give me anything. Bring it on-

"What's your favourite hobby?"

"......"

"......"

"......"

"......"

The silent exchange went on for another few moments before ending with Shiro peeping out a vocal, "?!"

"Well, go on. There's nothing too hard about that."

"J-just my hobby?" Shiro was shaking by the tip of his tail, "Nothing else?"

"There's definitely more to it after that but where else a better place to know you than to start from your hobby? I can deduce a lot of things from it; I just need your helpful input. So what is it? Knitting? Swimming? Cycling? Stamps?"

Okay, Shiro thought. Just my hobby. Right, it's nothing.

He cooled down some, and deplored himself on ramping his head up to such an unnecessary degree of worry. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth to give his answer and proceeded to break a second round of cold sweat.

What is my hobby?

Justice watched Shiro ponder on the question for a solid minute. He sunk into his snout between his fingers, then he crossed his arms and looked to his bare feet. Next, he crossed his legs and stared emptily to his side whilst toying with his fingers. Lastly, he retracted his posture, paused, thought for one last time and came back with a resounding, “N-nothing."

“Nothing? Don't kid me here. Everybody has something."

Shiro could only shrug.

Justice became curious, “What do you usually do? At home, or with your friends?”

Shiro sunk between his fingers again. He stayed there for another solid minute before rising up to say, “Chores, and I don't-"

Then Shiro suddenly choked up and felt quiet; almost timid, like a scolded dog.

Justice watched the almost-six-foot canine giant shrink his gigantic frame down to a meek puppy's. "You don't what?"

"Uh, have friends."

Justice was speechless for a moment. His mouth nearly loosened to a drop before he recovered himself, “So you like to clean houses?”

“No, but they take a lot of time. I'm the only one home, so I do everything. When everything's done it's usually bed time."

Justice got hung on the fact that there's still a thing called 'bedtime' among teens like Shiro in this day and age. He gave it a good hard thought, unaware that at the same time he's giving Shiro a good hard gaze. His mind was someplace else, but the eyes stayed, giving Shiro a good hard pressure.

"How about the holidays? There wouldn't be homework because there's no school. And as far as I know no washing machine in this era requires a full-day's attention." Justice was determined to crack open something previously unseen in Shiro.

Shiro put up a finger to retort, paused, and sunk to his shoulders again for another solid minute.

He thought deep, his perky ears twitching erratically, his tail swishing like a feather duster. His mind went back in time. All the past sixteen years of his life churned and twisted in his head to find that one singularity bonding all the things he'd done in his free time; the time when he wasn't sweeping the front porch, or washing his father's police cruiser, or making dinner.

He thought hard. He thought harder than any other time he'd used his head since long ago. He racked it good, gave his a good stir. His memories swelled; past experience came. Then it hit. He figured it out. The realization slammed harder than a freight train.

His ruby red eyes sparkling in fulfillment, he came back up with, "I sleep."

Justice didn't say anything for a while. He only stared at Shiro but this time, his mind was in place, and re-evaluating its expectations on whatever will come out of his mouth the next time round.

"I'll just note that as 'temporarily none'." Then he proceeded to scribble on his notepad. "You’d be pleased to know that the Academy’s living quarters has exceptional cleanliness protocols that doesn’t require a full day’s work to execute and leaves more than adequate free time for our students; which means you'll have plentiful time to find a hobby better than short-term hibernation."

Shiro went red with embarrassment. He really didn't think it was that bad. He merely thought it was good energy conversation, and nowhere near the degree of sloth. He'd finish his stuff, prepare dinner, sleep through the evening, wait for his father's return for more stuff to do.

Now that he thought about it, he really didn't do much besides chores and shut-eye. Not since his father's-

"Alright, next question."

Justice was scribbling away on his notepad, presumably preparing for his second inquiry.

Okay, this'll be easy, Shiro assured himself. The thumping in his heart was still there, but it's softer. His instincts weren't wailing like moments ago. If this is what he's asking then it's gonna be easy.

Justice raised his pen and pointed towards Shiro, now prime and ready for his second inquiry. They stayed silent for a while, then Justice spoke out the words.

"What are your preferences?"

Shiro heard the words loud and clear and didn't get two things. He didn't get what the words meant or why there's such a huge smug on Justice's face.

"Come on, don't play dumb with me. You know full well what I'm saying."

Justice's grin stayed on for only a bare five seconds before waning and slipping away to disbelief as he slowly realized the dense canine sitting before him had the same expression as a little child; innocent and oblivious.

"Don't make me spell it out."

Shiro's shrugged.

"Your preferences."

"S-sexual prefer- huh?"

"Your favored curves."

"My favored curves?"

"Your favorite cut of the meat."

"Wha-"

"Your manlihood's raison d'être."

"Is that French?"

Justice sighed. He wasn't going to believe what he was about to say, but with this wolf, only a jackhammer could have half the chance of drilling it through his thick skull.

He rubbed his temple before he said, "What do you like from a woman?"

And that got Shiro quicker than he expected. There was no delay in his reaction as the wording quickly caught up to him. His eyes widened up. His ears burst into twitches. His tail jumped from its own seat.

"Th-that's-"

"What?" Justice's smug came back as he finally got the reaction he wanted. "Too embarrassed to-"

"T-tits."

"-say it? Come on, we're men! It'll stay safe with-"

A short, stinging silence dropped on them like a brick. Justice froze halfway through his words, his eyes hanging onto Shiro's squirmy posture.

"Y-you heard me."

Justice did hear Shiro; he was just a tad bit dumbfounded by his straightforwardness. He'd expected more stuttering and denial, with persuasion attacking from all sides before caving into a whisper. He didn't expect a simple answer coated with some childish embarrassment.

"Breasts? Just that? Nothing else in particular? No second thoughts or anything of the sort? No preferences? Big, small, petite, more?"

"Wh-what more?"

"More stuttering, more 'uh's, more 'um's, more 'why do you want to know' those sort of things! Keep me guessing, don't just give it to me straight away; that's no fun and boring."

"You asked me!" Shiro's tail burst into a flurry, "W-whad'dya want me to say?"

Justice remained silent in thought. He didn't expect any more, but nothing as less as this either. He watched as Shiro's flailing tail slowly ceased, calming itself to a stop. He wrote some more on his notepad.

"Fair warning," Justice spoke as he wrote, "Stay away from Miss Secretary."

Shiro's head bounced up in alarm, fearing that he'd done something unintentionally to Justice, "I didn't do-"

"She's off limits. You hear?"

Shiro was about to retaliate when he suddenly understood. As Shiro said, he hadn't done anything to Miss Secretary, and Justice intends to keep it that way, with reasons glaringly obvious. He regained his posture, answering with a single, confident, "Yes."

"Good." Justice barely raised his head above his notepad. "Glad we have that on agreement."

Then nears the final question, or the final 'owed answer'. Shiro calmed down a lot. He reckoned if the questions were that easy, he'd be on a breeze. His confidence grew in volumes, almost overshadowing his tingling instincts, still screaming out into the abyss below where he couldn't hear. He even thought he overestimated the President, thinking he could only manage as far as embarrassing questions.

Okay, last one. It's easy. Just-

Then the President threw the curve ball.

"What do you think of us humans?"

The alarm came back wailing like a fire truck. The façade came crumbling down like a sledgehammer smashing on its side.

What do I think of them humans? Shiro thought. He was inquiring more on the question itself than its answer. What did he think of humans? He couldn't respond to that on a whim. On the surface level, he thought they were pretty different from the rest of the world. Fair looking, different skinned with next to no fur or scales, different looking; a fascinating creature to stare at.

But looking deeper, humans aren't as easy as they seem. It certainly isn't coincidental that even as the rarest species on the planet they occupy a large percentage of the economy's top 1%. Half the world's biggest leaders are humans. They're always on the forefront of the news. Always making headlines, always making waves and wrinkles throughout the world; at least from what Shiro observed

Shiro doesn't know why. Maybe it's biological that humans as a species are meant to be as successful as they are. They were the ones that pioneered civilization to the world at the start of the first era, after all, and that's definitely no fluke. Experts even reckoned they would've reached the modern era a good century earlier than us if only humans ran the planet.

Some people felt that humans are privileged, with their current positions be contributed by nothing but aristocracy and family lineage. Some even deliberately link natural tragedies or unrelated disasters to the actions of humans, as a sign that their presence are the bane of existence without a reason. On the other end of the spectrum you have cults brought to preserve the livelihood of humans, claiming that 'all civilized beings are based upon the Humans, clean and rid of impurity, the highest order of any beings'. They were known to harass other humans, usually through the act of good will. It isn't uncommon to see news of innocent human families receiving unusual amounts of voodoo offerings in their mailboxes, courtesy of said cults.

Nonetheless, none other species on the planet had so less in numbers yet this much grip on the world. With this much antagonism and obsession among them, they still preserve as the top of the world. To Shiro, there's no better proof of the species' tenacity than such.

"I think you're very strong."

"Interesting. Why so?"

Shiro felt ashamed to say why. Humans became sort of a social norm, being near a taboo to mention to one another; excluding zealots, but they're all lost cause anyway. It became ironic hilarity where as less as there's humans, they're the ones that dominate the headlines and the world, yet tare the least talked about among people.

The humans formed a tacit understanding among the planet that their undeniably dominating. On sight they have no amazing traits. Though they have looks, they're quite fragile, prone to lots of diseases, have next to no athletic qualities. A cheetah can easily outrun them. An elephant can outstrength them in a breeze. A horse can kick harder than any of them. Yet, the ones sitting on top of the world are these people. Many pondered upon the how, and combined with confusion and hurt pride, the topic sank into the depths of philosophical taboo. It became nothing but an undesired sideshow acknowledged only in silence.

Now it's striped naked right before Shiro by none other than Justice, the human himself.

"Y-your kind always show up on TV."

"Criminals show up on the television just as often, are they as strong as us?"

Shiro bit his tongue, "N-no, I mean like… humans always do something good on TV. Like business, or running the country or-"

"So these businessmen and lawyers and politicians are strong right?"

"Y-yea-"

"As strong as a charging rhinoceros, as strong as a leaping kangaroo, as strong as a biting tiger; they can run and jump and hit just as strong, right?"

Back in Shiro's schooling days in his old town he was told a history lesson of the olden days of war. The battlefield were filled with different forces to be reckoned with. From lions in berserk to hysterical geese, not one soldier was same with each other. But looking further, beyond the battlefield, was where the plans and strategies were conducted in linen chairs around big tables.

Sitting in each of those chairs were humans. Furless, spotless, immaculate humans that can't hold swords and shield yet make plans and send troops while their hands stay clean. There was a term made by the troops to address their higher-ups.

'Tailless', they were called, which as far as the olden days were concerned, was no better than being called cowards.

The term carried on. It'd lost its impact, especially in a modern world where wars are as common as plagues. Now the word was passed on with a simple meaning, 'weak'.

Until today, the word isn't mutually exclusive with humans.

Shiro immediately fell silent. His tail burst in swings, flailing itself everywhere as Shiro panicked to find something to say that wouldn't end in mutual destruction, or any form of destruction at all.

Before Shiro could think of anything, Justice said, "The word you're looking for is 'powerful', Shiro."

He went for a pause as he threw his notepad and pen on the table, next to the empty mug.

"You see, there's a difference between being 'strong' and 'powerful'. 'Strong' is used when you do an impressive weight lift, or run really quick, or punch really hard. You use 'strong' on athletes, big guys, or street fighters. But 'powerful' is different. 'Power' is the possession of minds. Authority, command, position, 'power'. Those who call the shots, those who lead the band, those who command the army; 'powerful' people.

"The two words aren't mutually exclusive, though. There's no saying a 'strong' man can't run a 'powerful' business, but the word is usually reserved for us humans. Do you know why, Shiro?"

Oddly enough, Shiro neither nodded nor shook his head. He only sat in silence, watching Justice speak with utmost attention.

"Good." Justice clapped, "You're learning fast. I'll give it to you anyway. See it like a reward of some kind. Let me tell you why.

"It's because they wouldn't call us weak, Shiro."

Justice's voice droned deep, as if he heaved out the voice from his chest.

"We can't run, we can't fight; hell if it ever comes down to it, we humans would be the first ones to go. The only reason we ever lived was because we somehow managed to convince the others to listen to us. This is all we have, brains.

"It's scientific. We humans possess the biggest mental capacity out of everyone else. Double of the canines. Possibly triple the felines. And we used it. We abused it so we can become 'powerful'. Look back into history. Civilization was built upon wars. I'll bet you a tenner it's full of mighty warriors braving death for their homeland. 'Strong', capable warriors. Amazing, isn't it? They graze their face against the open air and fight with their strength, all for a greater cause. They use their bodies to defend their ideals and put everything on the line with glory and pride.

"Now look into human history. Specifically human history. I'd bet you another tenner you'd find names of generals and colonels; generals and colonels sitting behind tables, scourging through reports, making deals, finding exploits, maybe even blackmail or threats. That's what we are, Shiro. We can only use our brains. We can only think. We can't do dirty works. So what do we do? We convince the 'strong' to do the things for us."

"Y-yeah, that-" Shiro scrambled for any form of salvage the conversation could possibly have, "H-humans can think of stuff better than everyone else-"

"We're 'tailless', Shiro. Cowards. All these great plans, massive intellectual moves, are nothing but a little banner we can hold up against the people who do it for us. We sit behind calculating opportunities and gauging risks, all to just send the 'strong' troops sitting in the battlefield to be the crash test dummy. That's how 'powerful' we really are, Shiro."

Justice face began contorting into an emotion Shiro thought impossible for a guy like him.

"It still doesn't change; we're the same 'powerful' men we are. We can't do anything ourselves. Biologically speaking, anyone 'powerful' wouldn't stand a chance against anyone 'strong'. Yet here we are, and it's all because the 'strong' is willing to listen to our demands, and do our bidding."

Anger was boiling on Justice's face. Pure rage, simmering through his cheeks, grinding his teeth, fuming from his eyes.

"The 'strong' can do whatever they wish; whatever they like, because they have the 'strength' to do so. They have the absolute freedom of the world, nothing they can't possibly manage. And what did they do? They chose to pity the smart, have them make decisions for them, making them the 'powerful'. The 'strong' are free do anything and they chose us to manage their freedom.

It was a different kind of anger, though. Shiro didn't take long to realize what it was - self-hatred.

"We're only 'powerful' because we shaped the world to our advantage. Now the 'strong' needs us because we made the world run on 'power' rather than 'strength'. I hate it. I hate this 'power', because it's nothing but cowardice. We stabbed the 'strong' in the back through history so we could stop being pitied and be depended upon. We're nothing but cheap, 'tailless' bastards."

"Now we can stand proud and be free of our cowardice because we can stand behind a curtain of 'science' and 'technological advancement' when all we do is exploit the system, make plans and bark orders. It doesn't hide the fact that we're cowards, nor does it make it any less obvious.

"I see it, Shiro. There's some people in this Academy, 'strong' people in this Academy, strutting with their 'strength', flaunting it about, and it pains me to see that they are the basis my 'power' is built upon. And then I see you, and I can't help but ask, why-

"Why did you lie to the bear?"

Then, at that split second, just as the tide as about to crash, the ticking bomb exploded.

Shiro, of all people, jumped out of his chair and slammed his fists onto the table, right through the mug sitting atop, narrowly missing the notepad. Cracks and crashes erupted into the air, cuing a sudden, surprised silence.

There was nothing on Shiro's face. Not a wrinkle nor a twitch. But his ears were twisted to its side and his tail was standing on its very end. His limbs were shaking.

Slowly, he pulled it fists away from the table, dragging wet splinters and shards of ceramic along with him. A metallic scent began filling the air.

He spoke in a deep, oppressive tone that sounded dangerously calm, "You only said three answers."

Then Justice replied with a smile, a far cry from the face he'd did moments ago, " And this is where I show an example, Shiro. My 'power'. I'm exercising it, right here, right now. I'm trading it with the fourth piece of information."

"But you said-"

"I never said anything, Shiro. And I never needed to. I hate this ‘power’, but being in position means I can do things a lot of other people can’t to get what I want. Like breaking rules. And abusing authority. Even if it means losing respect."

Shiro covered his ears, “I’m not listening-”

“Oh, grow up! I can make you listen however the hell I want. I can make you sing if I want to. I snap my fingers once and there’ll be a new cut of meat on the cafeteria menu tomorrow bestowed by your livelihood. You’re sitting in my hands; I can wear that tail like a damn tie if I so please.”

Shiro snapped. He pounced towards the table, one arm outstretched, his palm opened, razor sharp claws reared and protruding and ready to tear through anything it sinks in. Just before his fingers closed onto Justice’s smug demeanor, his body froze on the spot.

Just go, Shiro’s mind growled, and tear the fucker’s jaw right off. It’s easy. Just dig through his mouth and-

“Just dig through my jaws, Shiro," Justice taunted, "Easy, right? Why did you stop? The man is sitting right in front of you, Shiro. How simple it is to grab my chin and pull it apart with that brute, canine strength of yours. You can so easily use your ‘strong’ set of skills. And yet, you just can’t do it. Do you want to know?”

Shiro’s ruby red eyes glared in a whole new colour. Justice stared into his pupils, watching with utmost fascination.

“You can’t do it because you’re afraid. You’re afraid because you don’t know what I’ll do after you tear my mouth apart. Right now your instincts are telling you to back off and swallow that wild pride of yours, because there’s no telling what this man; this ‘powerful’ man, that thinks and schemes and controls who knows how many 'strong' people, can do. Quite frankly, I do happen to know my full capabilities, and with that knowledge in mind I suggest you sit yourself down and enjoy my story time before things go more southern than you'd like."

Shiro was left in a trance, his limbs shaking with frustration before he fell back into his seat, his eyes still glowing in crackling, fiery rage. He wasn't even aware he was sitting on his tail; his emotions numbed him of his senses.

"So here's an interesting thing I found about you, but before that we'd need to provide each other some context. Do you know how we screen our students into the Academy?"

"No," Shiro replied swiftly without an ounce of thought. His tone remained unchanged, deep and dark. "I don't know. I don't want to know."

"Well too bad, Shiro." Justice cut him off, "You don't exactly have any say in this. You see, we have this system where we screen our new intakes, with all due respect to our students. It's a form of insurance, so we could have a compiled list of crucial information when we need it. We'd usually have it done and ready by the time we've decided on an intake but you, Shiro; you're a special case.

"You weren't scouted out, but rather given a spot, out of nowhere. It was just last week when you suddenly existed in our system, enrolled as a student, without any explanation from the higher-ups. We were given neither warning nor time to process the surprise, much less so our work.

"I ordered a spontaneous investigation on the school's behalf, but it's really for me. More than a century this school had stood, and your enlistment was the first in history to happen; naturally, I was curious. I sent agents to the field; your old town, after your mother took custody, to dig out some on-site information regarding our new stranger.

"We'd usually only have two or maybe three agents, but for your case, we had to go all out. I sent half a dozen, one half conducts interviews with the local folks, while the other gathers official papers; birth certificates, identity documents, health checks, all that. What we got were interestingly polarizing.

"The locals were less than friendly. Some were happy to talk, while many others needed monetary persuasion to loosen their lips. What we had was very straightforward; they all know the little Shiro cub since he was little. Oh, how he grew to be a dashing lad, always respectful towards the elders, especially towards his policeman father; how he always knew when to look the other way and keep a tight lip on things. You weren't exactly a hit but you weren't a wanted criminal either. Vaguely remembered enough to stay a shadow in the background.

"The papers were different, however."

Justice went down under his desk again. He shuffled and dug through what sounds to be papers and files. He came back up with a sheaf of whites and dropped it onto the table.

"Guess what these are, Shiro."

Shiro answered immediately, "Papers."

"Don't fool with me, Shiro," said Justice with a smile, "I'd advise you to do better than that."

Shiro locked his jaws for a moment. Then he reluctantly let go. "Hospital files."

"Right 'o! And guess what these files say?"

Shiro got slightly intrigued. "Me."

"I'd wish it was, but no." Justice opened up a page and begun tracing his finger across it, "It belonged to a particular triplet of cats. Around three years ago, these triplet of cats were admitted to the hospital, two of which received a concussion. The sane one was in no condition of speaking; the doctors found traces of gravel and asphalt in his windpipe that should've killed him but was lucky enough to only leave him mute for a good portion of his life.

"Other than that all of them had fractures, bruises, and enough non-lethal injuries to immobilize them for at least two months. One even ended up in a wheelchair for a good year."

As soon as Justice finished he swiped the files off, he ducked back down under the desk and came back up with another set of papers.

"A jaguar, this one. A year and two months ago. Suffered from a fractured knee cap and a broken neck. Several cracks on the rib cage and a surgery to sustain an unstable backbone. Unconscious for a full month. Now under light monitor to observe recovery."

He ducked back down and came back with another pile.

"Saltwater crocodile. Most commonly referred to as the strongest crocodile subspecies second to the Nile crocodile. Registered a near four years ago. Heavy concussive blows dealt to the neck section. Evidence of blunt force trauma dealt between the nose and eye section. The rest of the body is intact but severed nerve circuits were observed."

He repeated with two more sheaves of documents.

"Asiatic Cheetah. Admitted two years ago with fractured shins and as stated here, 'an ankle pointing at an angle no ankle should ever be'. Blunt force trauma to various parts of the body; primarily the neck. A bit of a fracture on the snout too. A police side note stated that the cheetah escaped the hospital before authorities could arrest him for illegal immigration.

"Striped hyena. About two years ago, someone found him on the side of the street clutching a shattered elbow and a dislocated shoulder. Bruises and cuts were noted along with blood loss. Admitted to the hospital and came back out with mild amnesia. Still under some degree of monitoring and a therapy session every six months."

Justice dropped everything nonchalantly onto the floor with a fling of his hand, save for a blue file jacket in his hands.

"So, you might ask, 'why are you telling me about random patients of a hospital?' Well, at first, I thought the same. I questioned my agents when they sent me these in the fax machine. It was only then when I was given a clue to piece everything together.

"You see, I originally wanted to go straight to your mother's house where you lived and interview you, Shiro." Justice pointed at him, "Where else to get valuable information about the wolf than the wolf himself? But then I took a gamble. I decided to dispatch an intel team to gather information and only conduct the interview during your enrollment so I could fill in the blanks without troubling both of us having to ask trivial questions.

"Never once had I regretted that decision. These paper I'm holding says things you'd never tell, no matter how hard I try to pry it out of your mouth. It was only then when I saw through the lines when I can finally see what you're hiding. I had to read the fine print, double check, triple check, and compile an intricate list of confirm my findings. What I got was interesting.

"Every patient was admitted with traces of black fur on their clothing. The doctors found foreign containment on each of these patients I've listed and then some. Bite marks, fur, blood, saliva. But the doctors didn't care; this was a dangerous and callous neighborhood with notable street violence, of course there will be presence of foreign containment.

"But my agents looked a little closer than the staff members. They found the same fine print across many files. Many, many files. The same fur, the same saliva, the same bite marks. The oldest document with such descriptions was dated almost eight years ago, and have spanned at least six years all the way until one year ago, where the patients no longer get admitted with black fur stuck on their clothing.

"Why? And is it getting colder, or are you looking a little pale, Shiro?"

Shiro wasn't just looking pale. His ears were perking on its end, facing towards Justice. His tail was tucked against his back. His whole body seemed stiff, as if rock solid and fearful to move.

Justice raised the blue file jacket in his hands, "This was a file from two years ago. Like the others, it too, had foreign containment. But this is different. This one hit the jackpot, a literal lottery ticket. Blood, slobber, fur, bite marks, the whole nine yard, Shiro. Let me give you a quick run down.

"Grizzly bear. Approximately two years and three months ago. Multiple fractures on various parts of the body. A total loss of a right paw; shards of shattered bones across the flesh, severing too many nerves. Cracks on the skull, and evidence of heavy blunt force trauma on every part of the body. Organ ruptures on the kidney and the abdomen. Heavy blood loss was present. But here's the interesting part,

"The bear was found in a warehouse next to a shipyard. At around two in the morning the guard found the bear in his daily round. The bear was laying on the ground in a fetal position with a heavy puddle of blood around him. When the police came with a stretcher, they found, or rather noticed, a notable absence of a left ear.

"The reports said it wasn't a smooth job. The skin and fur showed signs of deliberate force shown on the injury. According to the witnesses 'it was practically torn out of his head'. Aside from that the doctors also found traces of bite marks around the injury, but it was never investigated further.

"The police then investigated the warehouse itself. They concluded that it was trespassed and broken in at around the evening the day before. There was also blood stains found among the floors and walls. By the time they got there nearly all of them had been dried up, save for a few samples. They couldn't find a match; mainly because nobody bothered. Luckily for us, they saved the sample, and they gave it to the agents without a second thought.

"They gave us a plastic baggie with a chip of concrete containing a splatter of blood, to say the least. And that was the one clue that tied everything in. So tell me, in all honesty, Shiro,"

Justice closed the file jacket, placed it on the desk, spun it around and pushed it towards Shiro.

"Why did you lie to the bear?"

Justice pulled himself back and watched as Shiro break into an internal struggle. Aggression and fear gripped his posture, shaking him down to his fingers and toes. His ears bent themselves to the sides as his tail slowly droop down under the seat, twitching lifelessly from the tiny spasms of irritation clutching his backside.

Shiro's eyes returned to its ruby red and started darting across the desk. He was an animal who knew he'd been strung to a leash he couldn't snap, yet still stubbornly throws himself out, desperate to break free. He was thinking helplessly, trying to yank himself out of the situation.

Then he died inside.

His tail finally stopped spasming and fell flat. His ears dropped to its side, its everlasting perkiness dying down to a pair of lifeless flops. His eyes stopped darting, and fell to an empty, hundred yard stare.

At this point, Justice knew he'd had Shiro. He had the wolf prancing and leaping across the minefield, triggering every flag there is. He then walked away, leaving the clueless mutt jumping about before pulling him down to reality; to exactly where he wanted-

"I can't."

Justice was stuck in a state of self-congratulatory when the word spewed out of Shiro's mouth, filled with unrivalled confidence and sternness. He was stunned for a second, frozen to a trance before he dragged his focus back, only to see the pair of lifeless flops spring back to life; his lumpy tail flailing about in excitement; his ruby red eyes gleaming in flames.

"And why is that, may I ask?"

"Mr. Cooper. His left eye."

"Yes," Justice brown eyes stared sternly, "and what about it?"

"You never told me how he lost it. You only said he went back. You didn't give me details; so I'm not giving you mine either. I lied, and that's all you'll ever know."

Justice was lost, thinking he'd been led to a nonsensical, foolish act before he finally caught up. His stern eyes widened, slowly opening up to the wolf before him as the reality exploded under wraps.

Shiro's new found confidence began crumbling down bit by bit as the reality exploded under his wraps as well. Shiro made a brave, albeit stupid move to talk back to a man whose authority knows no limit, at least one Shiro can squirm away from. He knew Justice's exaggeration of 'making you sing and dance' was just a big sing and dance of its own, but now Shiro wondered if it was a bad decision to test it.

Then Justice's mouth broke into a wide, satisfying grin. A tear streaked down his face.

"Bravo, Shiro! Bravo!"

Justice screamed into the air in a fit of laughter and claps, shocking Shiro for an instant. He danced around behind his desk, throwing fists into the air and whoops across the empty space behind him. He leaped back to the desk and leaned over towards the startled wolf.

"You took me by the one loose thread. I had a tightly coiled yarn and you just brought it all down from that one tiny thread I kept especially well tucked in. You lost the match but you won the game! I knew I saw something when you came towards me!"

"And w-what's that," Shiro bumbled through his words.

"Determination, Shiro. Your absolute will to turn the tables to your advantage. The 'strength' to go down with a fight!"

Justice's, quite literally, blew up. He lost all care towards his image and self-respect and, in every sense of the phrase, lost it. Shiro was stunned speechless.

"Show me more of it, Shiro. Show me how 'strong' you are. I couldn't care less of the pity now. Show me that it is you; your 'strength' that my 'power' is built upon, and not those bastards out there!

"Go! Go now! And tell Miss Secretary to get in while you're at it!"

His face stained wet and eyes swollen red, Justice leaped across the table and dragged Shiro out of the chair. In a single heave, all six feet of his massive stature was launched towards the other end of the wall where the light doesn't shine. Shiro stumbled on his bare feet, nearly tripping tripping over the carpets. Justice cared no more as they both trampled towards the other side.

"Oh boy, do I love me a great surprise! I'll never forget the moment your documents came to me in the fax machine. Just look at you! Look at me, tearing up and all this! Oh my, you're glowing! You're glowing!"

Shiro was a hundred and ten percent sure Justice lost his mind as the walls burst open into a doorway, opening up to Miss Secretary's office. Just mere seconds before Shiro got out, Justice pulled his ears close to his mouth, with his few final words whispered into his ears.

"I'm so terribly sorry I couldn't be able to finish Mr. Cooper's story to you. It is a rather sensitive topic I've promised the jackrabbit himself not to mention if I ever bring up your story. But I can tell you this; right here, right now, you're exactly like Mr. Cooper back then, running away from the danger, escaping his certain doom. Whether you'd return to your lion's den, I'd be watching. Always watching."

Then in one final shove, he was thrown the office beyond the walls. The doorway closed as soon as Shiro passed through, and disappeared without a trace or a crevice. Shiro stared at the solid wall for a few seconds, confused and perplexed over Justice's sudden outburst.

You're exactly like Mr. Cooper back then, running away from the danger-

The words stuck with Shiro for some reason.

Shiro was left stunned before he finally figured to get off the ground. He glanced around, seeing that he'd returned to Miss Secretary's immaculate office. He turned to his side, only to meet a very startled and amazed Miss Secretary staring back with many questions as her gaze.

"Did you give him his temporary visa?"

"Yes, President."

"Did you give him his dormitory number?"

"Yes, President."

"Can I have the tracker back?"

Miss Secretary pulled out the white feather that had been stuck on Shiro's shoulder an hour ago. "Yes, President."

Seated back on his executive leather chair, Justice plucked the white feather from her fingers. He spun it around, admiring the faint, soft brushes growing across the spine.

He then set the feather on the table and turned to Miss Secretary, "Have I mentioned you looked lovely today?"

"Yes, President. During your morning coffee at precisely-"

"Can I request that you address me with the name 'Justice' from now on instead of just 'President'?"

Miss Secretary seemed a bit bewildered, "Is it for any reason, President?"

"No particular reason; just a little comradery exercise between Student Council members, that's all."

"Shall I address you as President Justice from now on?"

"Is there any possibility that we can drop the 'President' title?"

Miss Secretary pushed up her glasses. "That would be inadvisable. As I have been told once, 'Formalities are the basis of respect; a much sought after commodity in a high class society'.

"It is as per your words, President Justice. The very ones you personally told me on my first day in my position."

That was to woo you, Miss Secretary. And now it's my own downfall.

Justice sighed, giving up all notions of ever getting rid of the title he will forever reluctantly bear.

He traced his finger around the feather on his desk, twirling it about in circles. It danced about, spinning itself round and round. Slowly, his finger picked up speed and in a sudden gust of wind, flung the feather upwards. Justice watched it suspend mid-air for quite a while before it slowly fell back down-

-onto a cracked, blooming crater on the wooden surface of the desk. The fell into its shallow chasm, tainting itself with the faint traces of blood residing on the pointing splinters and shards of ceramic. Among the smooth, mahogany display of the desk, the crater appeared painfully obvious, sticking out like a sore thumb with its bloodied presence.

Justice kept his eyes on the tainted feather. "What do you think of Shiro, Miss Secretary?"

Miss Secretary took a while to think. The she said, "He is a simple wolf with good intentions. He cares to some degree, and prioritizes others over himself."

"Just that?"

Miss Secretary thought some more. "He is easy to understand, and is surprisingly self-conscious."

Justice snuck a furtive glance. "Nothing else?"

Miss Secretary took a deep, silent breath before continuing.

"He scared me. His red eyes and canine physique. I had moments where I wished to flee from him, not to my own accord."

Justice spun his chair to face Miss Secretary. He admired a good second watching the beauty before him before continuing, "Would you label him as 'strong'?"

Miss Secretary was surprised by that answer, but she hid her surprise well, and gave her response accordingly, "No, President Justice. I would not."

"Really?" Justice got intrigued, "And why so?"

Miss Secretary took another while to think. "He does not seem to be initiative nor aggressive. He only has the looks but lacks some qualities of 'strength', personally considering."

Justice nodded to her words, but silently he thought, You've judged the wolf by its growl, Miss Secretary.

"I see, I see. Ah, before you go, do you recall a dialogue we had a good few months ago? The one about liars?"

"Liars? Is it the one you have mentioned to me at the second Tuesday of-"

"Yes, yes, yes, that one." Justice desperately waved it off. "What did I say back then?"

"I apologize for I am incapable of remembering the particulars but if I recall correctly, 'there are only two kinds of people who lie. The weak and the cowardly.'"

"Which one do you think the wolf is?"

For that, Miss Secretary couldn't answer. Every once in a blue moon, the all-knowing cow would encounter a question she couldn't possibly find an answer to. This was one of those moments.

Miss Secretary got rendered speechless, standing beside Justice as he stared at the dark wall on the other side of his office.

"Okay, that'd be all, Miss Secretary. As always you've been of great help. I'll see to that your workload gets lightened for today's sudden need of assistance."

Miss Secretary took a bow at Justice, "That is of no need, President Justice." (At this moment, Justice lowered his sight, shifting his eyes to the cow's well-endowed bosoms for a fraction, just before she rose back up.)

And with that Miss Secretary took off, back to her office through the doorway-that-was-once-a-wall.

Just as she was about to cross to the other side, Justice asked, "How are things with your fiancé?"

Miss Secretary paused for a second, turned back and answered, "We are fine as always, President Justice. Thank you."

"Good, good. Just wanted to know."

Miss Secretary resumed her steps. She got at least halfway through the wall when she stopped again, turned around and asked, "President Justice, you have been consistently asking of my fiancé and I everyday since you have been told of my engagement. If I may be excused to pry, what had prompted the curiosity?"

From behind Miss Secretary's glasses (and poor eyes), Justice now appeared to be a wobbly, unstable silhouette sitting against a bright backdrop. She couldn't see the expression worn on the dark figure's face. She could only hear his words.

"No particular reason; just to deepen our understanding as fellow Student Council members, is all."