A small, cream-colored fennec fox stands upright in line for lunch, clutching her tail with her ears folded back. Her uniform consists of a navy blue bzer worn over a white blouse, paired with a simple bck skirt. A neat green tie hangs at her colr, slightly loosened after a busy morning. Tissam’s uniform is slightly wrinkled, as if she hasn’t had time to smooth it out. Her small paws gently grip her tail, the bushy tip twitching nervously.

  Yesterday, when she wasn’t holding her tail, she inadvertently offended a group of smaller creatures. They gasped and backed away as her tail swished behind her, a silent signal of aggression in their eyes. But to her, she was simply excited to see the menu, which finally served something she could enjoy—grilled sea bass over a bed of rice.

  Of course, she apologized to them, but now she is more careful to avoid making the same mistake today.

  "Tissam, you left your phone on the table again!" a voice calls out from behind her, interrupting her thoughts. She stiffens for a moment, her ears flicking back in mild embarrassment as she turns to see a taller, more graceful figure standing in the line behind her.

  It is Kawee, a tiger from the Track Club. They were just in Encomics Css earlier—an elective Tissam nearly nodded off in. She was so tired that she hadn’t noticed Kawee sitting next to her until he nudged her gently.

  "I'm sorry—I didn’t realize I left it there," Tissam stammers, her tail twitching even more in embarrassment as she grabs the phone, holding it awkwardly in her paws.

  "Wanna join me for lunch in Mrs. Clemons’ css? She's a bit strict, but she’s pying a movie on the projector today. I think it's going to be Strike of Jupiter, right? Yesterday she pyed Space Wars: Gactic Crusade—you missed it. Pretty intense, but I think you'd like it." Kawee’s voice is warm, and though his tone is casual, he genuinely seems to be offering her a friendly invitation.

  "It's sci-fi, right?" Tissam asks, ears perking up as she looks up at him, finally meeting his gaze. Her tail still twitches nervously, but a little less so now. The mention of Strike of Jupiter catches her attention, and she can’t help but feel a bit excited. Sci-fi has always been something she enjoyed back in her previous world.

  "Yeah, totally," Kawee replies, his eyes brightening at her interest. "I thought you might like it. It’s one of the cssics. Lots of action and cool tech. You’ll definitely be able to rex and enjoy it. Plus, Mrs. Clemons usually gives extra snacks during the movie. You’re welcome to join me."

  "I—I'd love to," Tissam says, her voice soft and tentative, though a genuine smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Her ears perk up even more as she hears the lunch dy, a heavyset rabbit, call out for the next person in line. Tissam hesitates for a moment, gncing back at Kawee, before grabbing her tray and walking up to the counter.

  Kawee’s warm smile turns cold as he watches her grab her lunch, his gaze lingering longer than he intends. Something about Tissam’s tendency to get lost in her own world, her hesitation, and the way she seems unaware of the discomfort she causes with her nervous habits—it is starting to get under his skin.

  A hand nds on his shoulder, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Jason, the komodo dragon from the same club, is standing behind him. Jason’s low growl vibrates in his throat as he speaks. "You're still hanging around her? That weirdo talked to Zara like she was some kind of pet. You really gonna let that slide?"

  "Zara does act like a goldfish sometimes," Kawee responds, his voice tinged with amusement, though his eyes stay on Tissam. "But Tissam meant no harm. She's new here and still doesn't know all the social cues. You know that."

  Jason grunts, his long tail flicking zily behind him. "New or not, she's gonna drag you down if you keep covering for her." His voice is low, almost casual, but there’s an underlying tension. "You’ve got a real shot at Club Captain next semester. People are watching, Kawee."

  Kawee doesn’t answer right away. His jaw tightens slightly, his hand curling into a loose fist at his side. He knows Jason isn’t wrong, but...

  "She's part of our club and has great potential. Did you not see how she handled the sprint drills st week?" Kawee says, his voice low but firm as he turns to face Jason fully. "She outran three of our fastest members and adapted on the spot when Coach switched the course mid-run."

  Jason scoffs, his tongue flicking out briefly in irritation. "Speed isn’t everything. You can’t teach social sense, Kawee. No one's gonna care how fast she is if she makes the whole club look like charity cases." He shifts his weight, his heavy frame looming closer. "Think about it. You’re the best athlete we've got after Lian graduated. You're wasting your time on someone who can’t even read a room. If you want to lead the team, you need to start thinking about the bigger picture."

  Kawee's eyes narrow at Jason’s words. He isn’t blind to the fact that Jason is trying to pressure him, but there's something about the way Jason speaks that rubs him the wrong way.

  "Don’t worry about me, Jason. I’m just helping Tissam adjust," Kawee says, his tone ft but firm. "I’m not trying to drag anyone down. I believe in her potential, and I’m not going to let her feel like an outsider because she doesn't fit into your narrow view of what's acceptable."

  Jason’s nostrils fre, a low rumble vibrating in his chest as he gres at Kawee. "Fine," Jason growls, stepping back with a roll of his shoulders. "But don’t come crying to me when the rest of the team starts questioning your judgment. You’re better than this, Kawee."

  He turns and stalks away, leaving Kawee standing there, his muscles tense but his expression unchanging. He smiles to himself, watching Tissam walk over with her tray.

  "All set? After lunch—we have to board the bus for the off-campus tournament. You coming? Oh... wait—did you sign up for it? You know, the permission slip that was due yesterday?" Kawee asks, leaning against the wall, adjusting his blue bzer.

  "I'm not going," Tissam responds, looking down at her tray. "I have to work on my essay for Professor Blythe."

  "Professor Blythe?" Kawee repeats, his ears perking up. "What’s your essay on?"

  Tissam doesn’t seem to notice the shift in his tone, answering absentmindedly as they head down the hall, "It’s on the evolution of the carnivore and herbivore retionship in the st century. Professor Blythe says that most herbivores and carnivores don’t even know what’s truly going on between the species. There are a lot of misconceptions and stereotypes still alive today."

  She gnces up at him, her ears fttening a bit. "What do you think? Have you read any articles or books on it?"

  "Well, the herbivores and carnivores have always had a rough past, but I think the divide is bigger now. Especially in schools," Kawee says, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  "The divide is big because of how we are raised. It’s a social thing. There are so many stereotypes that have been perpetuated because of how we interact. I read a paper on it once. It said the divide is a product of social segregation and the ck of interaction between herbivore and carnivore families. A lot of us just never meet outside of school and work," Tissam replies.

  Kawee tilts his head, his gaze growing more intent. "What are your thoughts on it? I mean, have you experienced any of these stereotypes firsthand?"

  Tissam blinks, her tail twitching nervously as her ears droop slightly. "Yeah, there was this one time when I was hanging my uniform to dry by the window, and this carnivore student—someone who wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the female dorms—was watching me. At first, I thought nothing of it when he said, 'I’m just waiting for a friend.' But the next morning, I went to get my uniform, and it was torn up. There were deep cuts all over it, and in permanent marker, someone had written: Half this, half that—still a waste."

  A moment of silence hangs between them as they walk upstairs to the cssroom.

  "You know who did it?" Kawee finally asks, his voice unusually quiet.

  "No, but I think what he wrote was pretty stupid. It's like it was written by a child, someone who doesn’t know anything beyond their narrow worldview. It took me a long moment to figure out what it meant, but I think he was implying that since I'm an omnivore and not fully either a predator or prey, I’m not worthy of being anything." Tissam sighs, rubbing her eyes as her tail swishes behind her, agitated.

  "Just don't let it get to you," Kawee says, his tone softening. "People like that? They're just insecure, trying to put others down to make themselves feel better. Doesn't matter what they think."

  Once they make it to the cssroom, Kawee holds the door open for her, offering a supportive smile, he's about to walk in when he notices Jason who's inside the cssroom looking at him as if he’s waiting for Kawee to make a decision, his eyes dark with judgment.

  Kawee hesitates for a split second before stepping inside, his posture straightening as he exchanges a brief, knowing gnce with Jason.

  Mrs. Clemons a rge crane, walks over to the projector and starts it up, seeing that everyone is here her eyes widened at the newcomer. "You're Miss Barakat right? The new student from the Omnivores Division?" she asks, her voice carrying a slightly curious tone.

  Tissam stiffened at the mention of her division. She hadn’t expected to be singled out like that, especially in front of Kawee. Her ears folded back instinctively, a nervous habit she couldn’t quite shake.

  "Y-Yes," she replied softly, her paws clutching her tail tightly. "That’s me."

  "Since there's no more room — you can sit next to me by the window," Mrs. Clemons said, gesturing to an empty seat beside her. "We usually don't get many from your division, but it’s nice to see new faces." Her tone was polite, but it's like kinda a subtle jab, the way Mrs. Clemons emphasized “your division,” like she was carefully picking her words, as if she was too polite to outright say how out of pce it is.

  "Alright, everyone. Settle in. We’re watching Strike of Jupiter today," she announced, her voice more formal now that the css had settled down.