Chapter Text
“It’s spring 2019, and the world is full of animals embarking on a new path in life.”
The streets were filled with newly opened flowers, young leaves trembling in the breeze, and animals walking with purposeful strides, as if the whole world had conspired to move toward something new. It was that time of year when students talked about upcoming exams, adults about new jobs, and the elderly watched with a mixture of nostalgia and hope.
That was the world.
A world inhabited by civilized herbivores.
That was the common refrain.
The herbivores had built clean cities, solid institutions, well-formulated discourses, and a seemingly unquestionable morality. They considered themselves the pinnacle of coexistence, living proof that reason could tame nature.
And on the other side of that reason… there were them.
The carnivores.
Confined. Watched. Studied. They became living warnings of what happened when instinct was left unchecked.
Every so often, scientists crossed the wall to experiment on them. It wasn't called torture. It wasn't called cruelty. It was called prevention.
Because, after all, carnivores were dangerous. Or at least, that's what was repeated every day.
Haru walked with short but firm steps along the sidewalk that bordered the wall.
The albino dwarf rabbit, with fur as white as milk and black eyes that contrasted sharply with the somber gray of her surroundings, wore a simple dress in soft tones that swayed gently with each step. In her small hands, she held a magazine folded in half.
The cover read, in large letters: “Job Opportunities — Spring 2019.”
Haru glanced down at the magazine as she walked, frowning.
“I still have months before the teacher certification exam… I need to earn some money.”
She sighed softly.
She needed money. Something temporary. Something that wouldn’t interfere with her studies. She wasn’t asking for much, but even that seemed difficult when you were small, fragile, and constantly underestimated.
She looked up just in time to see a crowd blocking part of the street.
A demonstration.
Animals of various species—all herbivores—had gathered, carrying banners, flags, and makeshift signs. The messages were clear, repetitive, almost aggressive in their simplicity.
“NO MORE CARNIVORES”
“PROTECT OUR FUTURE”
“INSTINCT IS A THREAT”
Haru slowed her pace, observing silently.
In the center of the demonstration, a light-colored goat stood atop a makeshift metal platform. It held a loudspeaker with certainty, as if every word it uttered were an unquestionable truth.
“...That’s why!” the goat proclaimed, its voice amplified. “To protect the future of herbivores, we must eliminate the carnivorous threat from our lives! They are dangerous! They always have been!”
The crowd responded with applause and cheers.
Haru clutched the magazine lightly to her chest and continued walking, skirting the demonstration without stopping.
“The same speech… Every day.”
I didn’t feel anger. Nor surprise. Just a profound weariness.
The wall was still there, imposing, stretching as far as the eye could see. A gigantic gray concrete wall, reinforced with metal and under constant surveillance, separating two worlds that, officially, were never supposed to touch.
Haru was so lost in thought that she barely noticed the small figure crouching at the base of the wall.
She stopped abruptly.
It was a fawn, barely a child, bent over a dark, narrow hole in the wall. Its small hands trembled as it fumbled inside, sobbing silently.
“Hey, kid!” Haru exclaimed, alarmed, immediately crouching down. “You can’t go in there! It’s dangerous!”
The fawn started and turned its head. Its eyes were filled with tears. “But… m-my ball…” it stammered, its voice breaking. “I dropped it in there…”
Haru followed the direction of its gaze. In the darkness of the hole, barely visible, something round and colorful was trapped among the rubble.
“It’s… it’s my birthday present…” the fawn continued, sobbing. “I’ve been waiting all year…”
Haru was silent for a few seconds. She looked at the hole. Then at the boy. Then at the wall. Her heart clenched.
Finally, a small smile appeared on her face.
“Okay,” she said gently. “Then… I’ll go get it.”
The fawn’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really…?”
“Of course,” Haru replied, trying to sound confident. “But promise me you won’t go any closer.”
The fawn moved forward eagerly, wiping away its tears. “Yes! I promise!”
Before approaching the hole, Haru looked around nervously. “Hey…” she whispered. “Is anyone watching?”
The fawn shook its head quickly. “No. No one’s here.”
Haru swallowed.
“The world changes every day… But this wall…”
She crouched down in front of the wall. The hole was narrow, barely enough for someone her size to squeeze through. The darkness inside seemed to absorb the light.
“…this gigantic wall that keeps herbivores out…”
She took a deep breath.
“…and keeps the beings still inside separated.”
Carefully, she slid through the hole, feeling the cold concrete brush against her dress and fur. The space was cramped, oppressive, and for a few seconds there was only darkness and the sound of her own breathing.
Haru emerged from the hole, managing to get completely through to the other side with some difficulty, and set foot in a world she should never have known.
The rough edge of the hole lightly scraped her dress and fur as she crawled, holding her breath out of sheer nervousness. When she finally placed both feet on the unfamiliar ground, she let out a small sigh, almost a nervous laugh.
“I did it…”
She didn’t have to go far.
She had barely taken a few cautious steps when something colorful caught her eye among the dirt and stones: the ball. It was a little dirty, but undamaged. Haru carefully bent down, picked it up, and gently shook it clean.
With the ball pressed against her chest, she headed back toward the hole.
“Is this it?” she asked, stretching out her arms to pass it to the other side.
On the other side, the fawn's eyes lit up. “Yes! That's it!” he exclaimed, grabbing it eagerly. “Thank you so much!”
Haru smiled, relieved. “Take good care of it,” she told him. “And remember your promise.”
“Yes!” the boy replied, hugging his gift. “Thank you, miss!”
Haru nodded and started to go back. She bent down to climb back into the hole when suddenly…
CRASH!
Something heavy tumbled down the other side of the wall.
The impact was sharp, brutal. The light that had been streaming through the hole vanished instantly, replaced by a solid, definitive shadow.
Haru instinctively stepped back. “W-what…?” he murmured.
She ran to where the opening had been seconds before and began pounding on the concrete desperately.
“Hey! Hello!” she called out. “Is anyone there?! I’m here! I can’t get out!”
She pounded again and again.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Little fawn! Can you hear me?!”
On the other side of the wall, the scene was completely different.
A huge buffalo, dressed in work clothes and a hard hat, was finishing placing a reinforced plate over the hole.
“Be careful, kid,” he said in a deep voice to the fawn. “You shouldn’t go near this wall.”
“W-wait!” the boy tried to say, agitated. “There’s a rabbit in there…!”
But before he could explain, a larger figure appeared behind him.
“How many times have I told you?!” his mother’s voice was firm, filled with anger. “Don’t go near the wall!”
The fawn started. “Mom, I…!”
“No ‘I’!” she interrupted, grabbing his shoulder. “Do you want something to happen to you? You know what’s on the other side!”
The boy lowered his head. “I’m sorry…”
The noise of the construction, along with the chants from the nearby demonstration, drowned out every other sound.
Haru kept hitting the wall, but his voice didn’t penetrate it.
Yet… she could hear everything.
His mother’s words reached him muffled, but clear.
“How many times have I told you?” the doe said. “On the other side of this wall, herbivores are eaten.”
Haru froze. A shiver ran down her spine.
"They eat... herbivores..."
She swallowed.
"It seems... I can't get out now."
She pressed her forehead against the cold concrete, taking deep breaths to keep from panicking.
"I'll wait... When the noise subsides, someone will hear me."
Then something changed. A gentle breeze began to blow around her.
Haru slowly raised her head.
Petals.
Flower petals of different colors floated in the air, swirling gracefully, as if the world itself were inviting her to follow them. Pink, white, lilac, yellow. The scent was delicate, intoxicating.
Haru straightened up, forgetting the wall for a moment. "Flowers...?"
She began to walk in the direction they were coming from, drawn almost unconsciously.
As she made her way through bushes and overgrown vegetation, the voices on the other side of the wall continued to echo, growing ever more distant.
“Years ago, they started doing genetic testing on those monsters,” the mother explained to the fawn. “The person in charge decided to lock them up there to keep an eye on them. So they wouldn’t hurt us.”
“What kind… of monsters are they, Mommy…?” the child asked fearfully.
Haru parted some branches and then she saw it.
A vast field, covered in flowers of every kind, stretching out like a sea of color beneath the gray sky. It was an impossible, almost unreal contrast in a place that was supposed to be hell.
Haru’s eyes widened in amazement. “It’s… beautiful…”
Flowers had always been her weakness. They fascinated her. The way they grew even in the most hostile places, the way they endured. They were hypnotic.
She took another step, marveling.
“They’re living beings,” the fawn’s mother said. “Animals like us… but terrifying.”
Then…
A sound.
Footsteps.
Quick. Heavy.
Haru turned her head just as a huge shadow fell across the flowers.
She didn’t have time to react.
A large gray wolf lunged at her with a ferocious growl, knocking her to the ground. The world blurred: petals flying, damp earth, a crushing weight on top of her.
Fangs inches from her face.
“Don’t move!” the beast growled.
At that same moment, on the other side of the wall, the fawn’s mother finished her sentence: “…the carnivores.”
The gray wolf's weight held her completely immobilized.
Haru lay on the damp earth of the flower field, the petals crushed beneath her back, her heart pounding in her chest so hard it hurt. The wolf loomed over her, enormous, its shadow completely enveloping her. Its claws gripped the rabbit's wrists firmly, pressing them to the ground, preventing any attempt at escape.
A low growl vibrated in the carnivore's chest.
It wasn't an explosive sound, but a restrained one… as if something inside him was struggling not to break.
"How did you get in here…?" he asked in a deep voice.
His fangs were revealed as he spoke.
“Herbivore,” he added, his voice thick with tension. “The ‘door’ wasn’t supposed to open today.”
Haru tried to reply. She opened her mouth, but terror choked her before she could form a complete sentence.
“I-I…” she stammered. “I…”
Nothing else came out. Her throat was dry. Her whole body trembled.
“So… this is a carnivore… a real one.”
The images she’d seen on television flashed through her mind: large silhouettes, fangs, eyes gleaming in the dark. Stories of attacks, of instinct, of blood.
“What do I do…? I was just… walking…”
She squeezed her eyes shut, almost reflexively.
“He’s going to eat me.”
The wolf tilted his head slightly, watching her intently. His breathing was ragged. There was something strange about his gaze, something that didn’t quite fit the image of the monster Haru had imagined… but she didn’t have time to process it.
“Answer me,” he ordered. “How did you get in?”
Before he could press the issue, a different sound cut through the air.
Footsteps.
Firm. Heavy. Accompanied by a stronger, more pervasive scent.
The wolf’s ears pricked up immediately.
“Hey.”
A deep voice echoed from a few feet away.
The wolf reacted instantly.
He moved away from Haru swiftly, freeing her wrists, and in an almost brusque motion, he removed the overshirt he was wearing, a dark red shacket. Before she could react, he placed it over the rabbit's body, covering her completely from shoulders to legs.
“Stay here,” he whispered sternly. “Don’t make a sound.”
Haru blinked, completely confused.
Before she could ask anything, the wolf was already standing, placing himself between her and the approaching figure.
A tall, muscular Bengal tiger appeared from among the flowers, its orange and black stripes a stark contrast to the colorful countryside. He frowned, inhaling the air with obvious annoyance.
“There was a smell,” he growled. “Herbivore scent. But it’s gone now. I hate it.” He held a hand to his nose. “I can’t stand that smell… except for this stinky pollen.”
The wolf remained calm. His shoulders were tense, but his voice was controlled. “I’ve already checked,” he said. “There’s nothing around here.”
The tiger eyed him suspiciously, scanning the field. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I could have sworn…” He sighed in exasperation. “Bah. I guess it was the wind. I’ll tell the guards to carry on with their routine.”
“All right,” the wolf replied.
The tiger turned away, but before leaving, he gave a lopsided, mocking smile. “I never expected to see you here.” He glanced around. “In a field of flowers… it’s funny.”
The wolf frowned. “No one asked you.”
The tiger chuckled briefly and left, disappearing into the vegetation.
Silence fell again.
Only the murmur of the wind and the soft rustling of the petals.
The wolf remained still for a few more seconds, making sure they were truly alone. Then he spoke, still without turning around.
“He’s gone. We’re alone.”
Haru, with trembling hands, slowly removed the shacket from her head. The fabric was too large for her; it ended up resting on her shoulders like a makeshift blanket. She looked up cautiously.
The wolf turned to face her. “So…” he said in a neutral tone. “Can I devour you now?”
Haru's world crumbled again.
"N-no!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest. "P-please, I..." Panic gripped her once more.
“Why you…?” she asked, more out of confusion than bravery.
The wolf blinked. “Well, no,” he said immediately. “It’s not that.”
Haru remained silent.
“We don’t eat herbivores,” he continued.
The words took a few seconds to take effect.
The trembling in Haru’s body gradually subsided. Her breathing was still ragged, but she no longer felt like she would faint at any moment.
“Ah…” she murmured.
The wolf studied her closely before continuing. “You crossed the wall without permission, didn’t you?” he asked. “If you get caught… you’d go to jail. Wouldn’t you?”
Haru’s face paled even more. “J-jail…?”
The wolf sighed. “This time,” he said, “I’ll let you go.” He nodded. “Go.”
Haru looked at him, surprised.
She sat up slowly and, before leaving, glanced up at him. Her lips curved into a small, sincere smile.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “I’m glad to have met such a kind stranger.”
The wolf stood motionless.
“What…? What’s wrong with this rabbit…?”
She started to take a few steps, but then he spoke again, this time in a calmer, almost curious tone.
“Wait.”
Haru stopped.
“So… how did you get in here?”
The question fell heavily between them.
Haru froze.
Her hands clutched the shacket. Her ears perked up. She didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know if she should.
The wolf watched her silently, expectantly.
The air between them became uncomfortable, thick… heavy with something neither of them yet understood.
They walked in silence for several minutes.
The town that stretched out before Haru was nothing like anything she knew. The streets were narrower, the buildings older, constructed of sturdy materials, designed more for durability than for beauty. There were no bright colors or flashy shop windows; muted tones, metal, stone, and dark wood predominated.
It was clear that this place hadn't been designed to be beautiful. It had been designed to contain.
The wolf walked a few steps ahead of her, one hand resting on his face, his shoulders rigid. He didn't look back, but he was perfectly aware of the rabbit's every move.
"Let me process this again… So you're telling me you went through a hole," he finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was thick with barely contained irritation. "And now you don't know where it is?"
Haru lowered her head even further. "I'm sorry…"
The wolf let out a short exhalation through his nose. “Are all herbivores this reckless?” he asked, without pausing. “Or are you a special case?”
The question didn't sound cruel, but weary. As if he'd seen too many absurd things in his life.
“N-no…” Haru murmured. “It was my fault. Really.”
Her hands tightened the shacket around her body, as if it could protect her from more than just the cold.
The wolf clicked his tongue. “Besides,” he continued, “you were lucky.”
Haru raised her gaze slightly. “L-lucky…?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Coming here during the moon abstinence…”
“Moon abstinence…?”
The words echoed in Haru’s mind, but she couldn’t quite grasp them. She wanted to ask, but something in the wolf’s tone told her it wasn’t the right time.
They continued walking.
Despite her fear, Haru couldn’t help but watch him.
His hands were large and strong, with retracted but visible claws. His body was tall and long, with broad shoulders that moved with every step. His wolf ears twitched slightly at every sound, attentive, alert. And his tail… long and thick, swaying with a natural motion that Haru had never seen so closely.
She realized she was looking at him too late.
“Hey…” she said suddenly, without thinking.
The wolf stopped. He turned his head just enough to glance at her. “What?”
Haru swallowed. “You…” she began. “Carnivores.”
The wolf frowned. “What about us?”
She hesitated, but the words came out on their own, driven by a mixture of nervousness and naive honesty. “Are they… sexually attractive?”
The effect was immediate.
The wolf jumped as if he’d been doused with ice water. His fur stood on end, his tail stiffened, and his ears pricked up.
“W-What?!” he exclaimed, turning sharply.
Before Haru could react, he grabbed the shacket still resting on her shoulders and pulled it up, covering her head.
“Don’t say things like that!” he growled, visibly upset. “You’re a stranger!”
Haru was enveloped in the fabric, completely bewildered.
“I-I’m sorry!” she said from underneath the garment. “I didn’t mean to…!”
The wolf took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Don’t talk about that kind of thing here,” he said in a lower but firm voice. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He let go of her and continued walking without looking at her.
Haru adjusted her shacket again, red to her ears.
“I’m sorry…” she repeated in a very low voice.
After a while, the streets began to grow quieter. Fewer buildings, fewer lights. Finally, the wolf stopped in front of a house.
Haru looked up… and her jaw dropped.
It was enormous.
The door was much taller and wider than anything she was used to seeing. The windows were reinforced, and the overall structure seemed designed for someone of considerable size.
“It’s… big…” she murmured, unable to stop herself.
The wolf glanced at her. “Normal,” he replied. “It’s not made for herbivores, much less small ones.”
He opened the door and stepped inside.
Haru hesitated for a second, took a deep breath… and followed him.
The door closed behind them with a sharp click. And for the first time since crossing the wall, Haru found himself completely inside the world of carnivores… with no immediate possibility of escape.
The interior of the house was plunged into semi-darkness as the wolf closed the curtains.
The outside light filtered through the thick fabric, bathing the space in muted, tranquil tones. Haru stood still, observing intently, trying to absorb every detail.
The house was spacious, much larger than it appeared from the outside. The furniture was simple yet sturdy: a solid wood table, large chairs designed for heavy bodies, tall bookshelves overflowing with worn books and handwritten notebooks. There were no unnecessary decorations, but it wasn't a cold place either. There were neatly folded blankets, small plants near the window, and a lamp that cast a warm light.
She sniffed the air without realizing it.
It didn't smell of blood. It didn't smell of danger.
It smelled… of home.
"You'll stay in my house for now," the wolf said, breaking the silence.
Haru jumped slightly and looked at him. "Here…?"
The wolf turned toward her and began to approach.
Step by step.
Haru instinctively backed away until her back hit the wall. The wolf braced an arm against the wall next to his head, blocking her path. His height made him seem even more imposing from this close.
“Just so you know,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not doing this out of kindness.”
Haru stared at him, motionless.
“We carnivores hate herbivores,” he continued. “I don’t want to do anything for you… but I also don’t want any trouble caused by you.”
His gaze was serious, hard, but not cruel.
“So be good, herbivore,” he added. “Stay put. Stay here until I find that hole.” He paused briefly. “I’m sure you don’t want to get caught.”
Haru swallowed and nodded quickly. “Y-yes…” she replied. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
The wolf lowered his arm and took a step back.
She breathed a little easier… but before he could turn completely around, she spoke again.
“W-wait…” she said. “I want to say one more thing.”
The wolf stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. “What?”
Haru hesitated for a second, then looked up. “How… how should I call you?”
The question seemed to throw him off.
“Legoshi,” he replied after a brief pause.
“Legoshi…” she repeated, testing the sound. “I’m Haru.”
He nodded slightly.
“It seems our names are equally curious… and strange,” she added with a small, nervous smile.
Legoshi looked away. “I guess so…”
Silence fell again, somewhat awkward, somewhat strange.
“I’ll go find the hole,” Legoshi said finally, heading for the door. He stopped and looked at her seriously. “Keep the jacket. It’ll hide your scent. Don’t come out. Don’t make a sound.”
“Okay,” Haru replied. “Thank you…”
Legoshi didn’t answer. He opened the door and went out.
The sound of the lock clicking echoed through the house.
And Haru was left alone.
.
Time passed slowly.
Haru sat on the edge of the sofa, her feet dangling but not quite touching the floor. The shacket still enveloped her, too big, too unfamiliar.
"My bag..."
The thought struck her suddenly.
"I left it on the other side of the wall."
She pressed her hands together in the fabric. "I can't relax here..." she murmured.
Then he heard laughter.
Small voices. High-pitched. Cheerful.
“Pass it!”
“No fair!”
“Again!”
Haru got up curiously and went to the window. She pulled a chair closer so she could reach the window. Carefully, she parted the curtain just a little.
Outside, several cubs were playing ball.
They were small. Of different species. A wolf cub, a fox cub, a tiger cub. They ran, tripped, laughed. They pushed each other gently, without malice.
Haru opened her eyes a little wider. “They’re… so small…” she whispered. “And cute…”
An adult figure suddenly appeared. A carnivorous mother gave one of the cubs a gentle tap on the head.
“I told you it’s dinnertime!” she scolded.
“Ouch!” the little one complained.
Another cub laughed heartily.
Haru frowned.
"This is... strange."
The words began to overlap in her mind.
"They're dangerous."
"A threat."
"Monsters."
News footage. Newspaper headlines. Magazines asking who the real carnivores were. Protests shouting that it was time to stop protecting them.
All of it... didn't fit with what she was seeing.
Then she saw him.
Legoshi was approaching the pups.
"Legoshi!" several of them shouted at once.
In seconds, they were all running toward him, jumping, surrounding him, hanging onto his arms and tail.
“Teach us more letters!”
“Yes! The alphabet!”
Legoshi chuckled softly as he stroked one of their heads. “Later,” he said. “I’m busy now.”
“Huh?!” they protested. “Then you’ll have to!”
“Or what…?”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
The puppies pounced on him, laughing, trying to climb all over him. Legoshi tried to keep his balance as he laughed, completely surrounded.
From the window, Haru watched the scene, unable to tear her gaze away.
A soft smile appeared on her face.
“It’s strange… This place… feels warm. Tempting.”
And that, more than fear, was what puzzled her most.
Night had completely fallen when Legoshi returned.
The sound of the door closing was the first indication of his presence. Haru raised her head slightly from the makeshift kitchen, where a pot steamed gently over the fire. The interior of the house was bathed in a warm, dim light, cast by a hanging lamp that made the shadows stretch across the walls.
Legoshi set his things aside and sat down in one of the dining room chairs. His posture was tired; his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the wooden table.
“It was too much today…” he murmured. He ran a hand over his face. “Where the hell could that hole be…?”
Haru stirred the food with a wooden spoon, trying not to make too much noise. “I… I didn’t look closely,” she admitted quietly. “Sorry.”
Legoshi let out a soft snort. “I figured as much.”
He was about to say something else when his attention shifted. He frowned and looked up. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Haru jumped. “Huh?” She turned slightly. “T-the dinner…”
The wolf sat up a little in his chair. “I told you to stay put,” he growled. “Not to touch anything.”
“Sorry!” she replied immediately. “I just thought…” She looked down nervously. “You only eat… raw meat?” she asked then, almost in a whisper.
Legoshi tensed. “What?” He looked at her, clearly annoyed. “Have you perhaps seen any raw meat in my refrigerator?”
“N-no…” Haru replied quickly. “There were only… vegetables… pasta… rice… normal stuff…” She paused. “I’m sorry,” she added again.
Legoshi closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and said nothing more.
A short while later, dinner was ready.
Haru carefully poured the contents of the pot onto two plates. It was a simple but well-prepared dish: a mixture of short noodles with rice, stir-fried vegetables, mild spices, and a comforting aroma. She placed the plates carefully on the table, facing each other.
Legoshi watched her silently.
When Haru finished, they both sat down. The cutlery—spoons and forks—was wooden, worn from use, and smooth to the touch.
Legoshi clasped his hands together. “Thank you for the food,” he said softly.
Haru mirrored the gesture, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you…”
When Legoshi opened his eyes, he noticed she was looking at him with a small smile. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Haru replied quickly. “Eat.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten with someone…” she thought.
Legoshi took the spoon. As he brought the first spoonful to his mouth, his fangs were revealed.
Haru's body reacted before her mind.
A shiver ran through her, and under the table, her leg instinctively kicked in the air, as if her body wanted to flee on its own.
Legoshi stopped. "What's wrong now?"
"N-nothing!" she replied stiffly. "Really."
The wolf watched her for a few more seconds, then brought the spoon to his mouth and tasted the food.
He chewed in silence.
The ticking of the clock filled the space.
Finally, he spoke: "It's... good."
Haru looked up, surprised. "R-really?"
"Yes."
A genuine smile spread across the rabbit's face.
They continued eating in silence for a while. The atmosphere was strange: quiet, but heavy with unspoken words.
It was Haru who broke the silence. “Legoshi…” she said cautiously.
He looked up.
“Why is there that wall?”
The question landed like a dead weight.
Legoshi tensed immediately.
Haru continued, before he could stop her. “I mean… look at us now.” She made a small gesture with her hand. “We’re eating together. We can talk… even play. You… carnivores… are like us, herbivores.”
The wolf placed his silverware on the table. “No,” he said firmly.
Haru shrank back slightly.
“We’re not like that,” he continued. “You can be scared… or fascinated by me, but don’t talk to me like we’re friends.” He looked at her intently. “We’re not.”
Haru’s ears drooped. “I’m sorry…” she murmured.
“He’s right. There’s a wall… not just outside. Between us, too. Between our hearts.”
She clutched the shacket lightly to her chest.
“I can’t force it. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.”
Silence enveloped the table again, heavier than before.
And even though they were under the same roof, sharing the same meal… the distance between them felt greater than ever.
.
When they finished dinner, the sound of wooden cutlery being placed on plates echoed softly across the table. Haru pushed hers forward slightly, satisfied but still with that strange feeling of sharing such a small space with someone who, deep down, still felt like a complete stranger.
Legoshi stood up first.
He walked to the door leading to the bathroom and stood there, leaning a hand against the frame. The light from the hallway cast his tall, slender silhouette against the wall.
“Go take a bath,” he said without looking directly at her. “And get rid of that scent of yours.”
Haru blinked. “My… scent?”
“Yes,” he replied seriously. “It’s too noticeable out here. If someone walks by, they’ll smell it.”
She nodded, without arguing. “Okay…”
She got up from her chair and walked toward the bathroom, passing him. Legoshi turned slightly, his back to her, respecting her privacy. When Haru closed the door behind her, the wolf was left alone in the hallway.
He wagged his tail slowly, thoughtfully.
"This rabbit... she's strange..." he thought.
He leaned against the wall.
"She's not like the herbivores who come once a month to examine us, to look at us as if we were things... Dangerous things."
He looked at the ceiling.
"She just wants to talk. To communicate. As if there's nothing between us."
He frowned.
"But she's still a herbivore."
He let out a long sigh.
"Maybe I was too harsh with her... I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."
There was a noise on the other side of the door.
A thud.
Then another.
As if something were being moved or pushed.
Legoshi looked up. "Haru?" he asked.
There was no immediate answer. Only a sound of struggling.
Worried, he turned the handle and opened the door. "What's wrong?"
But what he saw left him completely frozen.
Haru was standing on her tiptoes, her back to him, reaching for a high shelf where a small basket sat. She was naked, clearly in the middle of trying to find a towel.
The world seemed to stop.
Legoshi's eyes widened.
Haru turned around.
Their eyes met.
“AH!” she screamed, instinctively clutching her chest, her face flushed red. “L-Legoshi!”
The wolf froze, as if his paws had been nailed to the floor.
“I-I…” Haru stammered. “I-I can’t find the towels…”
Her voice trembled, a mixture of embarrassment and panic in her voice.
At that moment, the basket on the shelf began to wobble. Slowly at first. Then faster.
Haru looked up. “Huh…?”
“Watch out!” Legoshi shouted.
The basket fell.
Legoshi lunged forward without thinking.
There was a loud crash as it hit the floor.
When the dust settled, Legoshi loomed over Haru, his body completely covering her. The towels had fallen over her head and back like a makeshift blanket.
Haru lay on the floor, completely paralyzed.
Legoshi had one hand resting by her shoulder and the other intertwined with Haru's, holding on so he wouldn't crush her.
Their faces were dangerously close. Both were breathing heavily. The silence became unbearable.
Haru was the first to speak. “L-Legoshi… T-this is…” she murmured. “This is so embarrassing…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “P-please… don't look at me…”
A blush crept up her face.
Legoshi began to gasp, his breathing becoming ragged. A low, almost nervous grunt escaped his throat. Heat rushed to his face.
“I-I…” he said, unsure what to say.
He brought a hand to his muzzle, turned his head, and in an awkward movement, pulled away from her. He jumped up, ran out of the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.
On the other side, Haru sat on the floor, surrounded by towels, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Outside, Legoshi leaned against the hallway wall, breathing heavily, panting, his face completely red.
"What just happened...?"
Silence separated them from the doorway.
It took Haru a few seconds to react.
And then, as if her mind had suddenly awakened, the blush spread even deeper across her face.
"He saw me..."
She brought her hands to her face.
"He saw me naked. From so close..."
Her heart began to pound so hard she felt it thump in her chest.
"A carnivore... no carnivore has ever seen me naked..."
A small, stifled gasp escaped her throat, a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness.
"Waaah...!"
She curled up in on herself, breathing rapidly, until she finally managed to grab one of the towels and wrap it around herself. She sat there for a moment longer, trying to quiet her racing mind, though the images and sensations kept surfacing unbidden.
.
Outside, Legoshi had stepped into the courtyard.
The night air hit his face like a cold slap. He leaned against the wooden railing, panting, his hands gripping the edge.
The full moon hung in the sky like a huge, silent eye, watching everything.
He brought a hand to his muzzle, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.
“I can’t believe it…”
He closed his eyes.
“The scent…”
He took a deep breath, as if the memory still lingered in the air.
“It’s so different… so fragile…”
He wagged his tail nervously.
“Herbivore women don’t smell like carnivores… it’s softer, lighter…”
He shuddered.
“And their bones… they were so thin… and their fur so… soft…”
He covered his muzzle with both hands, his face completely red.
“I’ve never smelled such a sweet scent…”
“Legoshi!”
The voice startled him.
He jumped slightly and spun around.
There was Jack, his best friend, the Labrador, his hands on his knees, leaning slightly forward as if he’d been running to catch him.
“Hey,” he said, sniffing the air and then covering his muzzle. “You smell like a herbivore.”
Legoshi tensed. “I-I…” he stammered. “I was near the gate in the wall today.”
Jack tilted his head. “Ah… that makes sense.”
He walked over and sat beside him on the courtyard step, also gazing at the moon.
“That’s what they call it now, isn’t it?” he remarked. “‘The Gate.’ Our only link to the herbivore world.”
Legoshi didn’t reply. He just listened.
“They say they only use it to monitor us,” Jack continued. “To lock us up, study us… experiment on us.” He frowned. “It’s a shame, you know. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to live without being looked at like you’re a problem to be solved.”
Legoshi tightened his grip on the wood a little more.
“Oh. There’s a rumor going around,” Jack continued, lowering his voice. “They say a herbivore has infiltrated here.”
The wolf perked up his ears slightly.
Jack sighed. “If it’s a female…” he swallowed. “She’s not going to have a good time. She’ll probably be torn apart and eaten. With the moon abstinence… you know how some of them get.”
Legoshi looked up at the sky. “You’re right,” he murmured. “During the moon abstinence is our mating season. When many stop thinking… and just act like wild animals.”
Jack glanced at him sideways. “Still following the routine?” he asked. “To keep you under control.”
“No,” Legoshi replied. “I’m just… trying to relax. Keep a cool head…”
But just as he finished the sentence, the image of Haru in the bathroom flashed through his mind.
He tensed up instantly.
The blush returned with a vengeance.
“Legoshi?” Jack asked, alarmed. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Legoshi covered his muzzle again. “Y-yes… yes. I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little choked up.
“It’s alright… It’s just abstinence. You’re sensitive.”
He glanced toward the house.
“I’ll take her back home tomorrow. And everything will go back to normal.”
.
Meanwhile, Haru was in the bathtub.
The warm water covered her up to her shoulders, leaving only her head above water. Her ears drooped slightly, her hands pressed against her still-flushed cheeks.
“I got caught up in this whole carnivore thing… And I forgot something so simple…”
She sighed.
“He’s a boy… And I’m in a boy’s house…”
She closed her eyes.
The scene flashed back into her mind: Legoshi diving to protect her, his shadow completely enveloping her, the thud of the tub hitting the floor.
“I wasn’t scared… He protected me…”
She opened her eyes, staring at the shimmering reflection of the light on the water.
“And I didn’t even thank him…”
She fell silent.
Her heart began to beat faster, though she didn’t quite know why.
The water moved gently around her, forming small ripples that drifted away and returned.
Just like her thoughts.
As something that, without realizing it, had begun to grow between the two of them.
The morning light filtered through the curtains with a soft, golden hue, tracing lines on the living room's wooden floor.
Haru opened her eyes slowly.
It took her a few seconds to remember where she was.
The ceiling wasn't the one in her room, nor in any building on the herbivore side. It was higher, wider. The air had a different scent: wood, damp earth, and something else, something she couldn't yet identify.
She sat up slowly on the sofa, adjusting the blanket Legoshi had left for her the night before. Her ears twitched carefully, alert to any sound.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway.
Haru tensed slightly.
Legoshi appeared in the living room doorway, his fur still a little disheveled, wearing a loose T-shirt. He stopped when he saw her sitting down.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
"G-good morning..." Haru finally said, her voice timid.
Legoshi glanced at her sideways. “Good morning,” he replied softly, almost as if he didn’t want to break the silence of the house.
Haru got up from the sofa and nervously smoothed the blanket. “The sofa was very comfortable,” she commented. “It’s… quite large. And soft.”
Legoshi nodded slightly. “Good.”
The short answer made Haru’s ears droop a little, but she didn’t stop smiling.
She remained silent, watching him as he walked to the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and took out a wooden glass.
“I guess… you weren’t surprised to see me naked last night…”
She blushed at the memory of the bath.
“The other herbivore boys always froze when I slept with them…”
She pressed her fingers against the fabric of her dress.
“Am I the only one who’s nervous?”
Then, suddenly, she felt something nearby. A soft movement. A warm breath.
She jumped. “A-ah!?”
Legoshi was leaning in front of her, sniffing carefully.
Haru blushed to the tips of her ears. “Y-you…” she stammered. “W-what are you doing?”
Legoshi straightened up slowly. “Your scent is barely noticeable now,” he said calmly. “The bath flowers are used instead of perfume. It’s not a strong fragrance… but it’ll do.”
Haru quickly turned away, her back to him to hide her blush. “I-I hope so…” she murmured.
“Sorry… now I’m the awkward one…”
Before the silence could grow heavier, a knock on the door startled them both.
“Legoshi!”
“Hey, Legoshi!”
“Come out and play!”
The high-pitched, cheerful voices of the puppies filled the air.
Legoshi sighed and went to the door. “I’m busy today too,” he said from the other side.
“You always say that!” one of the voices protested.
“You’re acting weird!” another added. “You’re a loser for quitting the guards!”
Legoshi frowned. “I’m on license.”
There was a small murmur of complaint.
Then he felt something touch his back.
He turned around.
Haru was there, holding a wooden bowl full of cookies. “G-give them these,” she said. “So they’ll go home happy.”
Legoshi blinked. “Huh…?”
She handed him the bowl with a small smile.
Legoshi hesitated for a second, but finally opened the window and stuck his arm out. “Take these,” he said. “And go play somewhere else today.”
The small hands and claws immediately reached out.
“Cookies!”
“They’re for us!”
“Legoshi really does love us!”
The laughter faded as the puppies scattered.
Legoshi closed the window.
Haru watched him intently. “Those little ones love you, don’t they?” she remarked.
Legoshi sighed. “No.”
That was all he said.
He went to the coat rack and took a white jacket. He slung it over his shoulder and turned to face her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.
Haru tilted her head. “With what?”
Legoshi looked away. “Forget it. I’m going to find the hole again today. Wait here.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I feel bad for giving him so much trouble…”
She glanced at the empty bowl on the table.
“At least… I was able to do something to thank him…”
Legoshi opened the door and left.
.
The carnivorous village awoke to a peaceful rhythm. Some swept their front steps, others chatted on street corners. The scent of bread and herbs drying in the sun filled the air.
Legoshi walked with his hands in his pockets.
"This morning..."
He closed his eyes for a moment as he walked.
“I could smell that fragrance again…”
He heard Haru’s soft footsteps on the wood in his mind.
“And those biscuits… they looked good.”
He swallowed.
“I thought there were too many for the puppies… Were those biscuits for me?”
His tail began to wag on its own.
He stopped abruptly and held it with one hand, blushing.
“Why am I happy?”
He shook his head and continued walking.
Further on, he disappeared into the bushes near the wall.
He crouched down, sniffing the air. “Here…” he murmured.
There was a faint trail.
“The scent of a woman…”
He looked up at the enormous wall that loomed before him. “I’ll take you home,” he said softly. “I promise.”
The wall clock ticked slowly and steadily, marking the passage of time.
Haru had been sitting in the living room for quite some time.
She had changed places several times: first on the sofa, then standing near the window, then leaning against the dining table. Even so, time seemed to stretch longer than usual.
"Legoshi... he's taking his time," she murmured unconsciously.
The silence was different without him.
It wasn't a threatening silence, nor an uncomfortable one, but it was heavy, as if the house had lost its balance. Haru realized that, since Legoshi had left, everything seemed bigger… and at the same time emptier.
She felt safe.
And yet, completely out of place.
Her eyes began to scan the living room more closely. Until then, she had been too nervous to really notice the details.
The house was big, yes. Tall doors, reinforced frames, spacious and sturdy furniture, clearly designed for large bodies, claws, and long tails. But beyond that…
It was an ordinary house.
There was a bookshelf with worn books, many of them bent from use, most of them about insects. Plants in simple, well-cared-for pots. A blanket folded neatly over the back of the sofa. Small framed photographs, some crooked, others repaired with tape.
There was nothing that screamed danger.
There was nothing that seemed to belong to a “monster.”
“It’s… like any other house,” Haru thought. “Like a herbivore’s.”
That thought unsettled her more than she expected.
More minutes passed.
Too many.
A feeling of unease began to grow in her chest, gentle at first, then insistent. It wasn’t fear… it was curiosity mixed with a strange sensation, as if something important were hidden right in front of her.
“I’m just going to take a look… It’s okay…”
She got up and began to walk through the house with cautious steps.
She explored the obvious first: the kitchen, tidy and clean; a small pantry with simple foods; a shelf with mismatched cups. Everything reinforced the same idea: normality.
Until, at the end of a hallway, she saw it.
A different kind of door. Not because of its size, nor its color, but because of the sign hanging on it.
“DO NOT ENTER”
The paper was yellowed, old. Held with worn tape.
Haru approached slowly.
Then she noticed it.
Underneath the sign, barely visible at first, were marks.
Claw marks.
Some superficial, short, low. Others deeper, long, drawn violently, climbing up the wood. It was like seeing a timeline etched into the door: from small to large, from weak to strong.
A chill ran down her spine.
With trembling hands, she pulled the sign aside.
The marks were now fully visible.
“…” She swallowed.
The door wasn't locked.
That made her hesitate even more.
Her instinct screamed at her that she shouldn't go in. That this wasn't her business. That she was crossing an invisible line.
But it was too late.
She pushed the door open. The creaking was soft, almost respectful.
The room was dimly lit.
The air was different: colder, denser.
The first thing he saw was an old, metal stretcher, its mattress deformed from use. There were obvious marks from where it had been secured along the sides, and the leather was worn, as if it had endured too much movement, too much strain.
The marks continued on the walls.
Claws.
From bottom to top.
Short. Long. Deep.
Haru felt a knot form in her stomach.
On a side table lay abandoned medical instruments: forceps, empty syringes, devices he couldn't identify. Everything was clean, but old. As if no one had been there in a long time… and yet, the past still breathed within those walls.
She moved a little further.
Then she saw the photographs.
They were stored in an open box.
She picked them up carefully.
Legoshi. Younger. Much younger.
In some, he smiled barely, awkwardly, his body rigid. In others, he was serious. Too serious for his age.
And in several… he was wearing a hospital gown.
Bandages wrapped around his arms, his legs. In one photo, he had a bandage on his side. In another, on his neck.
Haru squeezed the photo between her fingers. “No…” she whispered.
Another photograph.
Little Legoshi, clinging to an adult wolf.
“His mother,” she thought immediately.
Beside them, there was another figure.
The face had been torn from the photo.
Only a blurry green smudge remained visible behind the legs, as if someone had been there… and had been erased from the image.
Haru’s heart sank. “He had… a family…”
She continued searching, her hands trembling.
She found collars. Not decorative ones. They had numbers engraved on them and a small device attached.
She didn't need to read to know what they were.
Electric shock collars.
"God..."
Folders. Many. All with labels, numbers, dates.
All with the same name.
LEGOSHI
Species. Sex. Age. Height. Build.
And a section that chilled her blood:
"Experimental Subject"
-Evaluation.
-Control.
-Behavioral Tests.
-Endurance.
-Response to Stimuli.
Each page described different experiments. Reactions. Endurance. Behavior under stress.
Haru had to sit on the floor. "They used him..." she thought. "As if he weren't a person."
In the corner of one of the documents was a symbol.
She recognized it instantly.
The Horns conglomerate.
The same logo she had seen on buildings, reports, “scientific” advertisements.
The fear returned. But it wasn't terror. It was sorrow. A deep, crushing sorrow.
“They weren't monsters…” she whispered. “The carnivores weren't locked up because they were evil… They were used. Silenced. Turned into subjects of study.”
She continued searching, almost blindly.
Until she found drawings.
Children's drawings. Clumsy lines, faded colors. Folded, worn papers, kept like treasures.
One showed a world without a wall. Another, herbivores and carnivores playing together. Yet another: Legoshi, his mother… and the green figure, complete, smiling.
And the last one…
A wolf cub alone. Crying.
Haru couldn't stop the tears from falling. “All this time…” she thought. “All this horror…”
The wall.
The inspections.
The control.
“They weren't monsters…” she whispered. “They never were…”
The carnivores weren't the danger. The danger was the system. The danger was those who created it.
With a heavy heart, Haru left the room and carefully closed the door.
She went back to the living room.
She sat down at the table, hugging her knees.
She looked at the door through which Legoshi had left.
“If he went through all that…” she thought, “then he’s been alone for a long time.”
Now she understood why he kept his distance. His harshness. His discomfort. His fear of getting close. His rejection to herbivores… it all made sense.
Silence enveloped the house once more.
But now, Haru no longer felt it was empty.
She felt it was unfair.
And, for the first time since crossing the wall, she knew clearly which side her heart was on.