Five rings came from a clock hanging over the living room of the modest apartment, although it apparently attracted no response from a female fox who was preparing the kitchen table. Once she placed two bowls and all the utensils, she checked on her cooking in a pot. The smell perked her up, as though she felt she had never cooked better. She then put a lid on the pot, set her egg timer to three minutes, then took a seat at the kitchen as she heaved a satisfied sigh. Her smile faded a little as she gazed upon the front door.

Then she heard a few knocks on the door, and a fox kit opened it.

"Mommy, I'm home!"

The female fox beamed as she walked up to the kit. He was wearing a green boy scout uniform, of a color less vivid than his eyes, topped with a cap, and his red tie made him look ever so dashing. A name tag on his uniform read "N. Wilde".

"How's your day, Nick?" asked Mrs. Wilde as she hoisted up her little son and nuzzled him.

"Great, Mom," little Nick replied with a wide smile as he nuzzled his mom back and she gently put him down, "I'm part of the junior scout now."

Mrs. Wilde gave Nick a little applause as he continued, "You should have seen me there, Mom. I was at the center of the room, in front of everyone, and then I took an oath," little Nick then straightened up and held his right paw up as though reenacting something he did earlier, "I, Nicholas Wilde, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy."

Mrs. Wilde playfully mussed his cheeks.

"You have always been all those, Nick," she replied as she walked back to the kitchen with Nick in tow after closing the front door, "Now, be a good boy and sit while this Mommy prepare your dinner."

Five in the afternoon wasn't something most mammals would consider dinner time, but Nick understood that his mom had been working night shift at some factory somewhere for a few months. He felt lonely at night sometimes, but at least he still got to see her every day, be it morning before he went to school and she to her day job at some shop somewhere, or afternoons like this.

"And here we go," Mrs. Wilde exclaimed as the egg timer went off, and a short while later the two of them were already eating.

"So, how does it feel, Nick, being a junior scout?"

"Well, uh, it felt great, but there's not much to do on the first day."

"Uh, huh."

"Though actually..."

"... What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"I feel kinda lonely in the scout."

"Why?"

"Because I am the only predator."

Mrs. Wilde pondered a little about what Nick said. There weren't that many predators at Nick's school, if her memory of her visits there was accurate. Still, Nick being the only predator in the junior scout? That sounded odd.

"None of your predator friends joined the scout?"

"I did ask them to join since I am, but they just didn't want to."

"Looks like they don't like becoming scouts."

"... That reminds me to last week."

"What happened last week?"

"Mrs. Serafina asked us what we want to be when we grow up. I think nobody said scout."

"Oh," Mrs. Wilde playfully rubbed Nick's head, "Well, nobody I know grew up to become scouts either, Nick. That's just a stepping stone for other dreams."

"Oh," Nick drooped ever so little. Mrs. Wilde realized she might have put it wrong.

"There's nothing wrong with being a junior scout, Nick. Certainly nothing wrong for now. As with everything else, that's a good place to be to learn new things. And make friends too."

Nick perked up as his mom poked his nose, ran her finger across it and then put it in his mouth. He then realized some food had smeared his nose without his noticing, and the two giggled before continuing their dinner.

"So, what did you tell Mrs. Serafina?"

"Well, actually I didn't say anything."

"Oh, why?"

"I don't know yet, Mom. The others in my class mentioned things like police officer, astronaut, doctor, actuary, singer, but I just haven't decided yet."

A curious smile came upon Nick.

"Mom, you said that Dad was a tailor, right?"

Mrs. Wilde didn't immediately answer. Her husband was indeed a tailor, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was his death four years ago, something that she had always hated to recall. She often imagined how Nick felt, having never truly seen his father as he was growing up.

"What if I become a tailor like Dad, Mom? Will he be proud of me?"

Mrs. Wilde only rubbed Nick's head gently.

"Whether or not you become a tailor like him, I'm sure he will always be proud of you, sweetheart."

"Mom, are you crying?"

"Oh, no no no," Mrs Wilde hastily rubbed her eyes, "The dinner's hot, you know. The steam got into my eyes."

Nick was wondering why his mother said that.

The two finally finished their dinner and Mrs. Wilde proceeded to clean up the kitchen table and wash the bowls. She told Nick to change his clothes and stash his junior scout uniform in the laundry, and once he did so he went to the living room and turned on the radio. He knew his mother loved to tune in to the six P.M. news, which now had just started. Nick then sat at the living room, listening to the news even as he might not understand everything he heard, the same thing he had been doing at this hour every day. There was some news about police at Rainforest District if he heard it correctly, and when the next news rolled in, he saw his mother going into her room, no doubt to prepare for her night shift later. Something he heard next piqued his curiosity, and he waited until his mother walked out before asking.

"Mom, can I ask something?"

"What is it, sweetheart?" Mrs. Wilde answered warmly as she brushed up her uniform, which had Aries Textiles logo sewn on the chest.

"What's a demonstration?"

A demonstration at Lambullghini automobiles, as the news reported it. She had heard news of unrest at that company for a while due to a recent major employee turnover, where a few dozen senior workers were laid off and replaced with younger workforce, most likely for cost-saving. Of course the laid-off workers made a ruckus about low compensations or whatever else they could think off, though what she caught next alarmed her.

"... at the scene of the demonstration. The protesters are demanding to be reinstated..."

"... Why do we have to lose our lifehood to these chompers?..."

"... We demand our jobs back..."

"Mom, what is a chomper?"

It was one thing hearing nasty words from the news, but it was another thing for her son to have to hear that. Mrs. Wilde tried to think of an answer.

"A demonstration... well, in this case, it means a group of mammals have a disagreement with another group and so they voice it out in public."

"If mammals have disagreement, why do they have to do it in public?"

"Some just prefer to do it like that, sweetheart. Not everyone likes to settle their differences quietly, it's just how they do it."

"Ok. Then what about chomper?"

"That's... usually that means someone in that demonstration hates another mammal so badly. Enemies, if you will." Was that the right answer?

"Oh, I see." Somehow she suspected he wasn't convinced.

"Anyway, Nick, sweetheart, as usual, be a good boy tonight, do your homework, if you're feeling lonely you can talk with your friends over the phone, and go to bed on time. Oh, and I bought fresh blueberries when you were at school earlier, have some if you're feeling peckish."

The phone rang just after Mrs. Wilde kissed Nick on his head. Nick knew what that phone ring meant, and his mother then answered it.

"Hi, Amy! ... Yes, I'll see you later, same time, same place... Ok... Ok, bye!" Mrs. Wilde hung up and then caressed Nick one last time before going out, "Have a good night and sweet dreams, sweetheart."

And with that Mrs. Wilde gave Nick one last smile before leaving the apartment, and Nick locked the door as usual. He then pondered what he should do next. He had little homework today, so maybe he'd do it later. Perhaps he'd just take some blueberries for snack before he did so. Or maybe he should turn on the radio again in case there might be something interesting on air. He felt so spare all of a sudden tonight. The next thing he knew, it was almost ten, and he had been preparing for bedtime with nothing else to do. As Nick laid on his bed, suddenly he remembered what he told his mother about Mrs. Serafina's question. What will I be when I grow up? He pondered the myriad of possibilities until drowsiness fell upon him.


Mrs. Wilde was preparing dinner that afternoon. She was unusually hasty, cooking something light unlike how she would usually cook the heartiest dinner she could. Then again, she came home late that day as the shop she worked at was unusually busy earlier. The clock already rang five some time ago, and not long after everything was ready. Only little Nick was left.

Eventually she heard a knocking on the door. She then headed there even though normally Nick would just open the door himself anyway. Given that the clock showed 5.40, Mrs. Wilde had expected to see the little kit standing meekly at the door, with ears drooping and paws behind his back, and she would give him a little scolding to retort whatever apologetic excuses he would give her.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Jane Wilde, are you inside?"

Who is that?

She certainly did not expect what she saw when she opened the door: A lion police officer standing over Nick with badly mussed school uniform and one hand over his face to cover a bruise.

"My God, Nick!" Mrs. Wilde promptly took Nick in and embraced him, terrible thoughts circling in her head, "What... Officer, what happened?"

"He said he got into a tussle with some kids at school. I only saw him when he was walking down the streets alone looking like this, so I figured I should get him home just in case."

"Oh my God," Mrs. Wilde was still shocked and unsure what to say, "Thank you, Officer."

Once the officer left, Mrs. Wilde sat Nick at the living room as she began to administer first aids to Nick. After that, she called her friend saying that she would not be going to work tonight. She then sat beside a drooping Nick.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

"Mom, I'm sorry," Nick wiped his eyes.

"Why did you get into a fight like this?" Mrs. Wilde wasn't sure what to say. She was sure Nick wasn't the sort of kit who would just bully someone over anything.

"It's about Charlie, Mom."

Charlie Catmull, one of Nick's friend. Mrs. Wilde had seen the little cougar a few times, and the cub was a shy little boy. Surely it wasn't possible for the two to quarrel to this point?

"Some of the other kids snatched his lunch, so I told them to give that back."

Oh.

Mrs. Wilde then hugged Nick, her eyes getting wet by the moment.

"They even said chompers shouldn't eat sandwich. So I just jumped in because I thought those kids would attack Charlie."

Some kids even said that? Mrs. Wilde reflected back to what she once told Nick about chompers. Maybe that really wasn't the right answer.

"Maybe I should just let that go. Maybe I should just share my lunch with Charlie instead of brawling like this," Nick appeared regretful, "I still lost his lunch anyway, and now you have to see me like this."

"Nick, sweetheart," Mrs. Wilde caressed Nick with a feeling of relief and pride, "I'm just glad you're ok in the end."

Thank you, God, thank you.

Later as the two sat at the living room after dinner, Mrs. Wilde checked on Nick's bruises again. There was nothing serious in the end. The worst that could happen would be that the school would call her and Mrs. Catmull about this issue, something minor compared to Nick's well-being.

"Mom, why do some mammals hate others so much?" Nick shot a question.

Mrs. Wilde wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, it was just that for her, something like this was not new to her. Some mammal claiming they were more privileged than others, some looking down on others, other such things. She had even seen several such abusive mammals; customers of her shop, co-worker cliques who were just predisposed to dismissing others like her. The thought of her little son being exposed to such things so early weighed heavy on her.

"These things... just happen Nick."

Again, maybe that wasn't a good answer.

"I'm sometimes tired of dealing with that kind of thing, Nick. It's like what you said; sometimes," Mrs. Wilde inhaled deeply, "it's better to look the other way. As long as they don't see that they get to you."

Nick appeared to be contemplating. Mrs. Wilde just pulled him to her and wrapped her arm over him.

"But if we- if I don't do something when my friends are being hurt, isn't that bad, Mom?"

"You have done something, Nick. Don't you see?"

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"You said it yourself, right? Even if you didn't wrestle back the stolen lunch, you already wanted to share yours with Charlie. That's already better than doing nothing, sweetheart."

Nick only leaned on his mother.

"Mom, I've been thinking, and I think I've found the answer."

"Answer for what, Nick?"

"About what I will be when I grow up."

Considering what they were just talking about, Mrs. Wilde could roughly guess what Nick would say. Still, she thought he might surprise her, so she poked him on the chin, nudging him to speak.

"I want to be someone who can protect my friends from the bad mammals. And I want to be someone who help those in trouble. I want to be-"

Nick stood on the sofa and made a salute.

"-A police officer!"

Mrs. Wilde wrapped herself over Nick. She was not sure what to say to him, but she promised herself: If this was what Nick dreamed of, she would do anything to help him achieve it.


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Author's Note:

Well, there goes. I was hoping to finish this story by March 4, Zootopia's anniversary (taking the US release date), but with me severely overestimating my storytelling skills and severely underestimating my general laziness, I failed to put up a complete story before the date.

But as a token of appreciation for the amazing movie that Zootopia is, I think it's best that I put this up anyway and finish it later. Half a cake is better than none, I guess XD

Oh well.

Just a bit of heads up: There are times when, while adding new chapters, I may edit or flat-out overhaul previous chapters. I'll do my best to point out whenever that happens so that you know there's a shift in story.