Chapter Text
Before I begin, I want to give a quick heads-up about accessibility and spoilers. This fanfiction starts at about the end of Season 1 of Beastars. There will be mild spoilers for Season 2 and beyond, but major mystery elements like the identity of Tem’s killer will not be spoiled. Nothing past Chapter 118 of the manga will be spoiled.
William sat at the dinner table, re-reading the same line in his book over and over. He couldn’t help that he was distracted. The radio’s music sounded tinny and far away, and the young goat’s ear kept flicking. A distant rumble of thunder barely registered. He glanced at the wall clock. “Wasn’t the report supposed to come on by now?”
His mother looked up from her work - she had boxes of rifle parts, and was assembling them as best she could. Her fingers moved with clicks as hooves pressed wood and metal. She looked at the clock as well. “Might be running late,” her voice was calm and pleasant. “After all, they got a lot of their own reports to put together before they can tell us anything.”
“Is something wrong?”
“They would let us know if something is wrong, honey.” She pulled back on a finished rifle to cock it. Held it up. Pulled trigger. A hollow click. Another distant rumble. Then she twisted to set it on the pile behind her. A knock at the door got her attention though. “Billy, get that for me would you?”
Billy hesitated. Then slowly he rose from his seat, stepped to the door. Please don’t be him, please don’t be him, please don’t be him… he opened it.
In the evening sunlight, an eagle offered a large bottle of milk. His eyes smiled, but Billy could tell it was a veneer for the grim times they lived in. “Here you go buddy,” he handed off the bottle, before nodding and stepping away. Billy watched him until he left the yard. Two flashes of light on the horizon, and more thunder. Then he wandered back to his mother.
“Thank you honey,” she accepted the bottle, rising from her seat. Billy watched as she picked up their mugs from the counter.
“Mom, why do we still have an eagle milkman?”
This prompted a pause. “Is he making you uncomfortable?”
“I mean, kinda. He doesn’t really do anything, but his beak is scary.”
She seemed to relax a bit. “I know, it’s a little strange. This is strange for a lot of people right now.”
“Didn’t you say carnivores were dangerous? And that’s why Dad left to fight them?”
Another long pause. More thunder from outside. “...things have been changing very quickly Billy. I know it’s confusing. But sometimes things happen like that in life. Things change so quickly that you don’t know what’s going on. And sometimes, people you thought wanted to hurt you… well, you simply didn’t understand things well enough—”
Suddenly a small fanfare of trumpets came from the radio. Her eyes shot up, and she leaped across the room to crank the volume as high as it’d go. Quick fingers snatched a map from the drawer, as Billy listened with peak attention. An excited voice began to bark:
“Our latest news updates from the frontlines! The 4th Carnivore Division made strong gains today into the Hominid Union, having met up with the 16th Herbivore Division from the south. That effectively cuts the country into two, marking a crippling blow against their war effort!” Billy could see his mother gnawing at her fingers. “We’ve also seen remarkable gains from the 2nd Integrated Battalion. They are currently pressing into the center of Cherryton, a provincial capital and the location of a prominent military academy.” The dusty speaker kept barking.
In the distance, a few more blasts rumbled through the air.
“The human advance against the city of Rokuma has been slowed to a stalemate, with no further gains or losses reported!” Billy noticed his mother close her eyes, let out a breath, pressing a hand to her chest. Another few cracks of thunder, louder this time. “Today, the Prime Minister introduced a bill meant to offer amnesty to any so-called ‘domesticated’ species currently fighting alongside humans, in another show of interspecies solidarity. She would also like to remind us all of the reason we fight our enemy, a brutal and terrifying one that has no qualms about the most horrific of war crimes. She issued a special order to explicitly overturn broadcasting code, so that full details may be read.” The radio cleared its voice. “Today in the southern suburbs of Rokuma, it was confirmed that humans deployed a deadly nerve agent explicitly forbidden as a weapon of war. Not only has it maimed and killed dozens of our own troops, but they also unleashed it, unmasked, on their own species. The self-destructive mode left eyes burning, noses frayed-”
“Oh please turn it off,” William’s mother shook her head. “I can’t bear to think of it much more now.”
He stood up to obey. The young goat was just reaching for the dial, when he paused. The radio announcer went quiet.
In his place, a wailing sounded around them.
It was the tornado sirens… William looked out the window. Then at his mother. She got from her seat, staring outside. The thundering was getting louder, nearer…
“An urgent update: all citizens of Rokuma take cover immediately! I repeat, all citizens take cover immediately!” There was the sound of scuffling on the radio. “Take shelter all citizens of the greater Rokuma metro area! Find an underground—”
That was the last William heard of him. His mother grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the back door. He was vaguely aware of her yelling for him to come. With numb senses he followed. She threw open the door and grabbed under his arms to pick him up, carry him down the stairs. In that moment he could look over her back.
Not three blocks away, a plume of black curled towards the crimson sunset. And against the backdrop of red, planes flew low and steady. William heard a long chain of bombs explode to the right. He couldn’t see around his mother’s head, but it lit up the side of their house. The sirens shrieked their warning. One bomber flew so close that he could read the letters on it: HUAF-17803. The engines made the ground rumble. “MOM!” he screamed.
That image burned into his head forever.
Up above the deadly wings dropped their load. From the cockpits they could make out animals scrambling like insects into shelters, storm drains, anything that would hide them. Every payload scarred the urban landscape with flame that lingered far after the planes passed.
All William could do was cling to his mother as she slammed the door shut behind them and took the last few steps down to the bunker. For a long while she knelt there, holding onto him. The darkness, her fingers in his fur, feeling him, feeling the heat of his body and the breath in his lungs. He couldn’t tell if he was shivering, or if she was. Later in life, he’d realize it was probably both.
“Why are they doing this Mom?” he finally croaked.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know, honey… I don’t know…”
Sixty-five years later, William the mountain goat was dead.
Gon, head of Cherryton Academy, attended the funeral of course. It was a beautiful service. He had his three children, seven grandchildren, and even a great-grandson in attendance. Old business partners had come out to pay their respects, as well as his fellow Cherryton trustees. He had been a giant among animals; if he’d been to an academy, he would have surely been a Beastar.
All of this made Gon’s awkward position even worse as he stood in front of the trustees, and cleared his throat. The room was arranged with him standing at a lecture desk, and the board arranged in arching seats before him. Walls swooped up to the ceiling, and made him feel like he was stuck in a pit. The tiger straightened his tie, and then his glasses. “Thank you all for making the meeting today. I know that all hearts are heavy after William’s passing. But for the good of the school, we must continue with our mission. The first order of business is to fill the role of head of the curriculum committee. Tanya, the pygmy hippopotamus, has been recommended to me by several of you. So I’d like to formally nominate her for the position. Can I have a second on that?” A hand went up. “Thank you, and if we’re happy to vote without objections, all in favor?”
Hands went up into the air. It was unanimous. Gon closed his eyes. He’d hoped that’d take longer. “Alright, motion carried, congratulations Tanya.” There were nods all around, and sharp eyes. The dreaded moment was drawing nearer. The tiger swallowed before speaking again.
“Next order of business… another letter from the local Ardi community.” No reaction so far. “Their patriarch again expresses his desire to have a young student of theirs enroll in our academy as a show of-”
“Objection,” June, a red panda, raised her hand.
Here it goes, Gon thought to himself. “Please, let me at least finish my point. A show of goodwill between our divided species, and I would like to bring to the floor-”
“Objection!” the red panda squeaked louder this time. Gon sighed, and motioned for her to continue. “I feel like we would all do well to remember that William was always insistent that we not endanger our charges by bringing human students into our educational environment.”
“I realize that, June, but unfortunately he’s not here-”
“Which is why you’re bringing this up now?” her eyes darted to the others sitting around her. “I’d like the record to reflect that I find it highly inappropriate that you wait for enough opposing trustees to die off so that you can have your passion projects get school funding-”
“It’s not a passion project,” Gon pinched the top of his snout between his fingers. “The Zeika and Dorpal schools have had success with their integration campaigns over the past couple years. Look,” he stood, tapping his fingers on his desk for emphasis, “we missed out on being the first of the top academies to integrate humans into our student population. We missed being that historic prideful first. Now my goal is to make sure, that we’re not the shameful last.” His sharp eyes glanced around. “Now look, we have humans in our school-”
“Old men. As staff,” June appended.
“Yes, I know, and I believe that if we can be comfortable offering them employment, we can be comfortable offering them education. Please, I implore you…”
Gon’s eyes glanced around, before alighting on Tanya. He nodded in a silent beg. The hippo gave a snort, before turning to face everyone. “I know that tensions at the moment are simmering a little stronger now, with restorationist insurgents getting bolder this year.”
“Thank you,” a crane picked up from that, “which is exactly why we cannot afford to rock the boat with humans right now!”
“Which is exactly why,” Tonya replied with an edge in her voice, “we should. Things are on edge right now - and when things are on edge, they can fall either way. I know the timing might seem distasteful, but it’s the way that cards are being played right now, and we need to choose based on what’s in front of us.” She pressed her hands together. “I’d like to motion to accept this enrollment from the Ardi human community this year.”
Gon swallowed, thankful for that. He didn’t expect her words had changed any minds - if anything, he hoped that they’d kept minds from changing. So he kept his pleading short. “Thank you Tonya, and I would like to remind everyone to please vote for the right thing here. I’d like to second?” June’s words kept worming under his skin though, even as the voting happened.
It passed by exactly one vote. Just as Gon knew it would.