Much like how the lotus blossom lasts for only three days, the splendor of spring break was short-lived. In a flash, a week had past, to some in a daze of bowling alleys and arcades, and to others, lost to the soul-consuming screen of their computers and game consoles. Regardless of how one spent their spring break, the agony of returning to school and enduring another series of nonstop lectures courtesy of SAD was enough to make their eyelids weigh as much as an anvil.

SAD was particularly unbearable compared to other years considering the massive irony around species cohabitation in Noah's Arc. Priya had listened to all those lectures same as any other student, but that certainly didn't change her mind regarding her actions. However, the sleep-deprived adolescents were forced to suck it up all the same and bow down so that the educators could beat them over the head with outdated information they knew served no real purpose. That's just the education system for you.

Fortunately, SAD does serve an important secondary purpose; that is to make their regular classes seem like a breath of fresh air in comparison. Tuesday, what some consider the objectively worst day of the week, garnered the same anticipation from the student body as a Friday normally would. As Hafsa waits outside the male carnivore dorm, she can see the relief on the exiting students' faces now that the next SAD is a whopping 364 days away. She notices a familiar feline face approach, but not the one she's waiting for.

"Good morning, Ms. President." Solomon greets in typical debonair fashion, lifting her hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles.

"Oh my," The female gasps in an exaggerated tizzy. "Before marriage, sir? You forget yourself!"

"Says the serval who waits outside my dorm every morning. Am I dating a stalker?"

"Don't pretend you don't like the attention." Hafsa teases, hopping behind him to tug on his tail playfully.

Something suddenly grabs on to her tail too, causing her to yelp and jolt straight up. She whips around, and find an equally astonished panther flinching at her shriek.

"Toma!" She exclaims, glaring at him. "What the heck?!"

"I thought we were doing a tail train!" He explains, his voice an octave higher than normal. "Like in elementary school!"

"Why would you think that?!"

"I-I don't know!"

With an amused sigh, Solomon readjusts his messenger bag. "We may be a bit too old to tail train, but we can still walk to class together normally."

The other two agree, and with the misunderstanding cleared up, they begin their trip to the Noah building. Toma lets out a cataclysmically loud yawn that takes Solomon off guard. Hafsa however, has grown used to his dramatic displays of sleepiness during her role as walking buddy. She's sure she could fit a whole watermelon in the panther's gaping mouth.

"Sorry." he mumbles.

"It's not very polite for a carnivore to yawn so openly." The caracal chides him.

He doesn't reply, only looking down with an uncomfortable expression. Hafsa subtly nudges her partner as if to say 'lay off'.

Solomon's whiskers twitch, but he clears his throat and proceeds to change the subject. "S-so, Toma, how was your spring break?"

"Uh, decent, I guess." The taller male scratches his neck. "Slept a lot."

"Rest is important." Solomon nods. "Did you stay on campus?"

"Yup."

This piques Hafsa's interest. "You didn't wanna stay with your parents'? I went back this year."

Toma tenses up at the question. "Stayed here."

Looks like she hit the mother of all sore subjects.

"We have a really nice campus, don't we?" She rushes to lighten the mood. "Might as well be a resort!"

The panther takes the bait. "It's a pretty cool campus, yeah. I get why Noah's Arc is considered elite 'n stuff. Even that SAD thing was pretty bougie."

Hafsa tilts her head. "Do other schools not do SAD?"

"My old one didn't. Well, maybe because it was an all-carnie school."

"Wow, all of my schools were co-trophic. What's an all-carnie school like?"

Toma hesitates, as if struggling to remember. "Not that different. There were Rexmas raffles and the prize was a basket of sectpro. Never won it, though."

The serval huffs. "I wouldn't want to win a thing like that."

After a few more minutes, the trio arrives inside the Noah building. They greet the always smiling Mrs. Cally who sips her morning eucalyptus tea and Solomon stops outside of the first floor hallway.

"I have math. I'll see you at student council." He gives a parting kiss to his girlfriend and a cool smile to Toma. "Nice chatting with you. Until next."

With that, he saunters off to class. Hafsa turns to her buddy, ready to resume their hike up the stairs to their first period class, but the panther remains still, dazed like he had just been hit over the head.

"You okay?" The serval asks.

"Do you… kiss each other often?"

Hafsa burns up at the question. "Wh-what?! I mean… the regular amount?"

The panther only looks more confused. "There's a regular amount?"

"I guess?"

"…Should we kiss?"

"Excuse me?!"

Her exclamation causes a handful of nearby animals to look over in curiosity. Struggling to regain her composure, she yanks the panther's ear down to her level to avoid more commotion.

"Where are your boundaries today?!" She hisses. "You can't just ask a female that! A female with a boyfriend, no less!"

Toma's eyes widen in shock. "You have a boyfriend? Who?"

The question is so mind-numbingly absurd that Hafsa temporarily forgets the English language.

"Solomon! Obviously!" She whispers in the most shouty way possible.

The gears turn in Toma's mind, processing this new bit of information. "Ohhhh…"

The female glues her hands to her side, restraining them from choking his neck. "'Oh'?! How did you not know this?! It's all anyone talked about for a solid week!"

"People don't really talk to me."

"Good grief…" She slaps her forehead, suddenly exhausted. "Anyway, it should've been obvious."

"Not really. You guys don't really seem like a couple to me."

Hafsa's eyes once again go wide, but not in indignation this time. "…Really?"

"Sorry, I guess that's rude to say." Toma lowers his head embarrassed. "I didn't pick up those vibes. But I'm dense. I'm sure you're a great couple."

He begins to totter up the next flight of stairs. Too focused on gripping the railing, he doesn't look back to the spotted cat's odd expression.

Though she eventually catches up to him and they continue talking as if nothing happened, Toma's words stuck to her brain all day. They didn't offend her, nor did they disturb her, but merely itched at her subconscious as something rather curious. The clouded feeling remains with her from first to sixth period, all the way to the student council office where she and the two remaining seniors prepare to receive some guests.

Fulfilling her promise to the principal, today the academy begins the process of electing a new Vice President. This begins with the applications for candidacy. It's more of a formality than anything, but in the case of a sudden vacancy in the council, the aspiring candidates all meet together so they can better understand their opponents, and the current leaders understand their potential new coworker.

Steadily, a diverse selection of animals knock at their door, where they are ushered in to sit by the rest area (generously catered by Brian).The application process is due to begin at 5:15, and by then, around half a dozen candidates are present. They range from lean gazelles to stout hogs.

Brian looks up at Hafsa, ready to dig in. "Are we good to go?"

"Seems like that's everyone, let's begin."

One final knock on the door interrupts her. Another candidate. She trots up to the entrance and prepares herself to greet the ambitious contender. However, her smile vanishes in an instant when she sees who is on the other side.

An imposing pillar of white looms above her, trapped in the middle of small, black eyes.

"Afternoon, Serval Hafsa."

"Ezekiel."

"Hope you haven't started without me."

Her flattened ears betray her. "You want to run for vice president?"

He smirks. "Most certainly. I have big ideas for this academy, after all."

They both know exactly what his 'big ideas' entail. A week with him as vice and she and every other carnie would be gone within the month.

How she'd love to slam the door on his face, hopefully scuffing up that horrid horn too. But no matter how dangerous he is, or how much she hated him, he still had the right to apply. Denying him is beyond her power.

"We're out of seats. Sit on the floor." She grumbles, and stomps back to the rest while he moseys in after her, practically whistling.

The secretary and treasurer blanch at the rhino's presence, the latter shooting a charming grin as he lowers himself to the ground beside the sofa. Something about Ezekiel just prancing around the student council office feels entirely perverse, like their base is under attack. They exchange a nervous glance and return their attention to Hafsa who clears her throat, signaling the start of the meeting.

"Welcome, everyone!" She greets with her iconic Hafsa-like adorableness. All of the males (save for Ezekiel) immediately jump to their feet for a standing ovation.

With a couple of waves, she manages to calm down the horde of thirsty animals and resumes her speech. "Yes, thank you very much! So, we of the student council are very happy to have you guys here, and we'd like to applaud your initiative to join us. Being a part of the student council is so much fun, but it's also a lot of work. We need a hardworking and passionate student willing to give tooth and nail for Noah's Arc as its new vice president. Is everyone here up to the task?"

The clutter of animals cheer. Looks like Hafsa hasn't lost her cheerleading touch when it comes to riling up a crowd.

"That's what I like to hear!" She gestures towards Solomon, who wastes no time going around and handing each applicant a sheet of paper.

"The secretary is distributing an application form. You'll have to write your name, grade, GPA, and campaign goals on it. After that, you're all set! The campaigning period begins Monday next week, where you're free to promote yourself in whatever way you see fit, so make sure you think of some innovative ways to spread your name out there. Of course, everything needs to stay within school rules. No selling products, no profanity, no stunts… I don't think I have to spell this out for you. When in doubt, please just ask me or the other members of the council."

"On Friday, we'll hold the election debate in the auditorium at 4pm." Brian chimes in. "It's gonna be a full house, so make sure you prepare your speeches and answers. The students will vote right after. It's your last chance to make a good impression!"

Each animal finishes jotting down their details and return the papers to Solomon. He neatly stacks them into a pile, adding his own previously prepared application form and tucks it away inside his reliable accordion folder. "Well done everyone. Any questions?"

To the student council's chagrin, Ezekiel's grey hand rises.

"I was just wondering if you could spare a tissue?" He asks in a far-too-pleasant voice.

Hafsa falters, but obliges, handing him a tissue box from a nearby shelf.

"Much obliged." Ezekiel cover's his wide snout and blows, letting out a trumpeting honk. He seems to be savoring every moment of their attention.

Once he's finished, another candidate, a petite sparrow notices a concerning color smudged on the used tissue.

"Oh, you're bleeding." She points at the reddish stain. "Did you get a nosebleed?"

"Aw, don't worry about it." He assures her. "Cut my nose a while ago, it's still healing." His olive-like eyes dart in the direction of the stiff caracal a few paces away.

With that, the president ends the meeting, suddenly eager to return to her dorms and sleep. But not before sticking around to exchange a few words with the excited candidates who ask for pointers and information on student council life. She and the others gladly answer them until only one of the applicants remain: unsurprisingly, the white rhinoceros.

He extends his burly palm to the serval. "Good meeting, pres."

Hafsa only lets out a monotone 'hm', and accepts his grip for a professional handshake.

"I look forward to working with y'all."

"Don't be so quick to put all of your eggs in one basket." She corrects tersely. "You'll have to win first."

"Can do."

He lets go of her hand and moves towards the secretary, shoving Brian out of his way in the process. This time, he doesn't bother offering his hand; instead he forcefully snatches Solomon's into what looks like a very painful clench. Hafsa can hear the squeak of Ezekiel's leathery skin tightening around Solomon's cracking joints, though the caracal shows no signs of discomfort. He returns his opponent's steely gaze until the ungulate finally relents, flinging his hand away.

Not a single parting word uttered, he tromps off, leaving the three remaining student council members alone at last.

The silence surrounding them fizzles with a shared anxiety. Gazing into each other's faces, they mutually confirm the state of their predicament.

"This isn't good." Brian mumbles, rubbing his sore shoulder from where the rhino charged through.

"It's unideal…" Solomon counters tentatively. "Ezekiel is indeed quite popular amongst herbivores, both large and small. Herbivores compose the majority of students… His DAVID goons will certainly be a considerable constituency problem as well. But, I am equally confident in my popularity."

His rock dove friend nods fervently, hyping himself up with clenched fists resting under his beak. "Yeah. Yeah! You won secretary by a landslide, who's to say you can't win Vice President just as easy? You're Mr. Popular! Mr. Dating The President! This will be a cinch!"

"Easy, now…" The taller male chuckles, patting the top of Brian's head. "The real problem is the runner-up position… If I win, the runner-up will take secretary. We essentially need to beat Ezekiel twice."

"That will be tricky…" Brian closes his eyes in intense ponderation.

Hafsa meanwhile, has been silent in her own storm of thoughts. Solomon notices her concentration.

"Penny for your thoughts." He offers.

"I… have an idea." The serval glares down at the Persian rug below them, voice obfuscated by the turning wheels of her mind. "It's riskier. But it would solve everything."

Solomon raises a brow.

Suddenly, Hafsa's head snaps up. She stares at him with a volcanic intensity, one Solomon had never quite seen on her before, lighting up her brown eyes into a vivid shine like rusted gold.

"Toma should run instead."

Neither pigeon nor caracal respond to this.

"It's the perfect plan!" She insists. "If he becomes Vice President instead, Solomon stays as secretary and Ezekiel has no way of getting in. And think of the message it would send to Noah's Arc! Toma, the panther, the ex juvie convict, in the student council. We'd be telling the whole academy that carnivores aren't going anywhere! That there is nothing to be afraid of! That even the scariest looking carnie can be trusted! DAVID would be powerless!"

Despite her enthusiasm, neither males look convinced.

"It's a progressive thought…" The caracal says. "But I just don't think it's feasible."

"Toma sounds like a nice guy, from what you've told me…" Brian adds. "But, he certainly doesn't look nice. And elections are mostly about looks and reputation."

"We'll build him a reputation! We'll just make what's already there… more visible!"

"I can't imagine him ever winning against Ezekiel." Solomon shakes his head. "Especially in this climate."

Hafsa goes deadly silent for a while, long enough that the secretary and treasurer begin to worry if they wounded her. But then they notice her shoulders tense up, rising to the length of her whiskers, her tail flares up like a bottlebrush, her knuckles clenched so tightly they go white.

Her piercing gaze, eyes the shade of spilt blood and pupils the size of a spider's leg, seem to suck all the light from the room.

"PLEASE TRUST ME ON THIS ONE! I STAKE MY PRIDE AS A CARNIVORE ON IT!"

The declaration reverberates throughout the room, zigzagging through her pointed exposed fangs and rattling inside the eardrums of the two males in front of her. It takes a while for the vibrations of her bellow to dissipate entirely, leaving only the three animals in a face-off.

Brian is first to break the silence. "I'm in."

Both felines can't help but flinch in surprise.

"If you're that set on it, then I'm in!" He nods with newfound confidence. "That's the first time I've ever heard you speak like that! I like it!"

The serval smiles at her short feathered friend, but her lips waver as soon as Solomon begins to shift in place.

"I… have my reservations." He lets out, brows furrowed. "But it seems I'm outnumbered. You are our president, after all. We'll do as you say."

Hafsa sinks into relief. "Thank you." In a flash, she jumps towards them, wrapping either arm around their necks and pulling them closer in an impromptu group hug.

As she embraces her two companions, her friends, her confidants, the strange feeling that overtook her as soon as she thought of the idea only burns brighter within her soul. Her instincts tell her that this will set Noah's Arc right. That this will work. That this will stop the fear.

She is a slave to her instincts.

AN: Thank you for reading! So begins the race for vice president. I was never one for student politics. Maybe the stakes weren't high enough?

Toma to me, is the type of fellow who would go along with anything because he's too afraid to ask questions. He's a hazing frat bro's dream come true.

Take it easy and stay safe.