I held Haru's small, pure white body tightly in my arms. One of the things I loved about her was the sound of her incredibly loud heartbeat.

She once mentioned that small animals' bodies involuntarily sway with the rhythm of their own heartbeat. Right now, our heartbeats were echoing each other, blending together until I couldn't tell whose was louder.

“A male aiming to become Beastar shouldn't be getting into fights so easily," she murmured softly, having just finished dressing my wounds.

But I didn't want to think about anything right now—not Beastar, nor any other troubling matters. All I wanted was to cherish this moment that belonged to us alone. I held her even tighter.

A gentle breeze rustled through the treetops, making the canopy that sheltered us sway, with golden sunlight occasionally spilling onto us, lighting up the tips of our fur. The flowers and plants in the garden were in full bloom, swaying with the wind and releasing a mix of scents. In this fleeting moment of respite, just for us, our two heartbeats synchronized in an instant.

“Beastar, Eire is already waiting for you in the office," said Ankh as I climbed up from the desk, rubbing my eyes. He stood in front of my desk, pushing up his glasses in his usual efficient manner.

I had previously told Eire not to show up half an hour early every time, so now he arrives twenty-nine minutes early instead?

“I see, thank you. Could you...you know, get him something to make him comfortable?" I had no idea what Eire liked to drink.

“No problem." Ankh bowed and turned to leave, but as he reached for the doorknob, he glanced back at me. “Director Ontario is in the lobby. Should I invite him in?"

Damn it, you saved that until you were on your way out on purpose, didn't you?

“Have I been sick this month?" I asked as Ankh swiped through his tablet, his eyes scanning rapidly. I was certain he remembered, but he was doing this just to make me squirm.

“Twice. Incidentally, no one believes Your Excellency could fall ill. They just pretend to sympathize, too scared to show any other reaction," Ankh added as if that explanation would make me feel better.

I refused to meet his gaze, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. I plucked the softened stag beetle from the warm water and positioned it roughly on the foam board. This helped me think. Although I wouldn't have time to finish this specimen now and would have to redo it later, keeping my hands busy helped me focus on my emotions.

“Let him come in here. I wouldn't want to appear rude to Eire," I said. Ankh bowed again, but as soon as he opened the door, Ontario barged in himself.

“Director, what a rare guest," I greeted him as calmly as possible while pinning the beetle into its intended position. The snowy owl glanced at Ankh, who bowed respectfully before leaving and closing the door behind him.

“I'm pretty sure your secretary has been sharpening his antlers," Ontario remarked, stepping to my desk. “I'm a little worried this might turn into a trend."

Ontario only ever came to me when the situation was urgent. He had always believed my actions hindered interspecies integration, so he avoided me whenever possible.

“I imagine you must have an important reason to come here so urgently, Director?" I replied, trying not to sound irritated. The more Ontario stalled with irrelevant small talk, the more severe the issue typically was. While I disliked beating around the bush, pushing him to get straight to the point would only backfire. I had learned that the hard way.

“Your Excellency, you must be aware of your influence on popular culture. Do you know how much interspecies marriages between wolves and deer have increased in recent years?"

I inserted another pin without responding.

Ontario meant no harm; he was simply stating a fact. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what Louis would think of such a statement.

“Your every move influences societal changes. If your secretary exhibits such aggressive behavior, it's only natural for others to mimic it." Perhaps noticing my lack of engagement, Ontario seemed to grow more enthusiastic about the conversation. Honestly, I didn't see what was so aggressive about it. I picked up the tweezers and adjusted the stag beetle's legs.

“Your collection is quite impressive," he remarked, pulling open the drawer where I stored my specimens. With his extraordinary eyesight, he didn't even need to bend down to read the labels. Clearly, this matter was serious if he was stalling this much. “But why keep them in drawers? Don't collectors usually display their specimens on the walls?"

I made the final adjustments to the beetle's pose and reached for a few more pins.

“Collectors who display specimens on walls aren't true collectors," I replied. “They're either thrill-seekers or show-offs. Proper preservation of specimens requires controlled temperature and humidity. Exposure to light and other factors can cause deterioration, so displaying rare collections that way isn't an option." Why did that sound like something Yafuya would say? I shook my head, reminded that the carrot juice I hadn't finished was still in the fridge.

“I see. But I thought someone like you might have beautiful butterflies instead of beetles," Ontario said as he closed the drawer, seemingly ready to get to the point at last.

“Beetles are the only insects I can turn into specimens," I admitted. I simply couldn't bring myself to place live insects into a poison jar. However, beetles, with their sturdy structures, didn't suffer significant damage even after natural death. A soak in warm water was enough to make them workable again.

“I see." He replied, but I wasn't sure he fully understood. “So, how's your progress on the second paper about the newly identified species?"

Don't just casually bring that up—I finished it ages ago.

“It may take some time to finish writing," I said. If only I had the leisure to spare. I set the beetle and tools aside, waiting for Ontario to realize he couldn't dodge the main issue any longer.

“Your Excellency, you know I wouldn't trouble you without good reason..."

So, what bizarre case do you need my help with this time? Please, I haven't even recovered from the shock of that incident with the wolf and the sheep. Don't challenge my understanding of the world again. Of course, such childish complaints weren't befitting of a Beastar.

“This may cause a reaction at least as significant as the Beastars Act," Ontario said, carefully choosing his words.

“Ah, this matter." I accepted the documents he handed over and read them. “We've known for a long time this was inevitable. Has the Supreme Court convened yet? Why hasn't the media reported on it?" If this was the issue, it wasn't as severe as he made it sound—unless certain groups decided to complicate matters unnecessarily.

But who was I kidding? Could you stop the wind from blowing or the fire from burning? Once the news of the Supreme Court hearing got out, this pressure-cooked city would explode.

“The meeting is tomorrow. I've asked the media to delay reporting it by a day to mitigate the shock," Ontario said, nervously nibbling at his feathers. Aha, a classic bird behavior when anxious. “Your Excellency, your stance on this issue could make the situation...delicate. If only we could..."

“If only we could what?" I asked, striving to keep my tone even, though it came out colder than intended. I clasped my hands on the desk, trying not to notice Ontario almost fluffing up his feathers to enlarge his silhouette.

“Well, um, I understand your position, Your Excellency…" His eyes darted around as if searching for an escape route.

Damn it, how did someone with such an avoidant nature rise to this rank? He needed a warm-up before addressing tough issues but retreated at the first sign of conflict. You are a life animal!

“I'll have Ankh schedule a meeting with the committee tomorrow for a thorough discussion," I said, aiming to secure his agreement before he bolted. His eyes darted around but ultimately nodded in acknowledgment.

For the love of the great blue whale, why did this have to be so hard?

Pressing my palm to my eyes, I tried to regain some energy. There was still some time before my meeting with Eire. I needed a break.

"If it were me, I'd have bolted out of here long ago."

I sighed and lowered my hands.

Louis leaning heavily on the desk with his massive antlers almost brushing my head.

"I only let my tone slip a little," I defended myself, but Louis clearly wasn't buying it.

"The look you just gave just like a serial murderer, you know? Honestly, every animal in the world is terrified of you now. Could you please stop doing things that make diplomacy work even harder?"

I nodded. "Sorry, I'll be more careful," I said, prompting Louis to sigh.

"Why are you flattening your ears like that? You look ridiculous. Never mind, let's get to the important stuff." He straightened up and cast a glance at the photo of the crowned eagle in the file. "You should trust Shuntaro. If he's keeping something from you, he must have a good reason."

You must have noticed something odd yourself, or you wouldn't have come to me about this. "I feel like you're always favoring Shuntaro," I said, voicing my doubt. "You're going to spoil him if you keep this up."

Louis waved a hand dismissively, clearly dodging the topic. "Kids are meant to be spoiled while you still can."

His nonchalant tone almost convinced me, but I remembered that's not how the saying goes. And besides, he didn't treat Hoshikaze this way—he was always partial to Shuntaro, who was the one who needed more scrutiny.

"Look, I'm glad the Supreme Court finally accepted the case, but you know what that means, right?"

The abrupt shift was too jarring, but the issue was undoubtedly more pressing than Shuntaro's current situation. Sighing inwardly, I decided to heed Louis's advice. After all, I trusted Shuntaro to take care of himself.

"I know," I said, activating the desk's digital interface and asking Ankh to update my schedule and arrange a new time for the Joint Committee meeting. "It means my paper on the new species is going to have to be put on hold for a while." As I skimmed through the documents Ankh had flagged for my attention, I glanced at Louis. "What do you think about stag sharpening their antlers into points? If it becomes a trend, I mean."

Louis paused, then let out a laugh. "Wait, are you seriously asking for my opinion?" His expression was as if I'd just told him the most absurd joke.

Come on, I'm being serious.

"Alright, alright. Don't give me that look." Louis walked back over, took my hand, and placed it against his antlers. "Feel that."

I ran my fingers over the intricate grooves of his antlers, marveling at their beauty.

"Do you think life animals' claws and fangs exist to protect nature animals?" Louis asked, brushing aside my cheek to reveal my sharp canine teeth. "Then have you ever wondered why nature animals like us have antlers?"

Before I could answer, Louis slipped a finger into my mouth, again. I sighed internally—he really needed to stop doing that.

He seemed to enjoy it far too much, and I was the one who had to worry about accidentally hurting him.

"Or do you think we'd be better off without these massive antlers, just like you probably wish you didn't have those fangs?" Louis asked, pressing against one of my canines hard enough to make it hurt.

The sharp pain triggered a defensive reflex in me, and I quickly focused on the calendar displayed on my desk, distracting myself by booking a dentist appointment through Ankh.

"You should go see Eire sooner rather than later," Louis said, finally withdrawing his hand and straightening up. "He has a lot to report, after all. But do me a favor, okay? Give Shuntaro some more space. He's going to need real help someday, and when that day comes, you need to be ready for it." With that, Louis turned and left.

"I know," I murmured to myself, unable to shake my concern.

Shuntaro's routine physical was coming up soon, too. I pulled up the last record of my attempt to contact him, it had been answering by Dusk. Something must have happened. I'd been this close to asking Eire to send a squad to bring them back. I'd opposed Shuntaro taking on this mission from the start.

But… Louis had a point. While I thought I was giving Shuntaro plenty of space, the shadow of someone like me—a looming, infamous father—made every inch of that space feel suffocating. Having a prominent parent was bound to make life much harder for the kids.

I abandoned the idea of reaching out to Shuntaro again and sent my updated tasks to Ankh. For now, this would have to do. The storm was coming, and trusting Shuntaro might be the most rational choice.

Stretching my limbs, I stood up. Shifting Eire's focus to Central City might be more practical—the situation there was spiraling out of control.

Even as I resolved to trust Shuntaro and give him more space, I couldn't help but worry. Take care of yourself, kiddo.

I closed the app and stared at the desktop background, a family photo among many others.

Back then, Haru was six months pregnant. Maybe it was some instinct of a small animal's intuition that prompted her to suggest we take the photo. Grandpa was already bedridden, and we had to get special permission from the hospital to set up the equipment in his room.

Was that an uneasy expression on Yafya's face? Or did he somehow know that Grandpa's condition would worsen rapidly after that day, and I'd lose control, doing something catastrophically foolish that would undo all his efforts to build a perfect society?

Grandpa looked unusually well in the picture. Was that how he really appeared, or had it been retouched?

Haru stood in front of me, holding little Shuntaro, who was still covered in black fur back then. Her large black rabbit eyes seemed almost luminous.

Maybe she hadn't invited her family because she didn't want to upset me. The problems that arose after her first pregnancy had already strained my relationship with my father-in-law, and things became even more complicated when she later became pregnant with Haruo.

Still, we looked so happy together then. If I could, I'd wish for that moment to freeze forever.

But in the darkness of night, beneath the calm surface, I always hear them—soft whispers and anguished cries. All those animals who aren't so fortunate, calling out to me, crying my true name in the shadows.

It's time to get to work. Shadow doesn't waver, and it never tires.