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= The Fall: Violet Nightmare =
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Chapter Two - Resolution / By Myself
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"Tani," a dainty, airy voice called from behind a cash register, "can you take a few orders while your brother prepares more dark roast? I need to start on the next batch of croissants."
"We're out already?"
"Almost."
The younger cheetah could feel the hidden stress radiating from the guise of her mother's tone. The most those who were awaiting service saw was a happy, go-lucky barista. She was handling herself well.
Not even an hour since The Toasted Bean opened its doors, their small, family-owned business served over thirty mammals some of the finest, most affordable coffee and pastries in Savannah Central—as it had for the past forty-or-so years. Not many small businesses could share that sentiment. Most fizzled and died out within a few years of operation.
Thanks to their shop's prime location—a midsized multi-level commercial townhome adjacent to Savannah Central Park—in addition to the regulars and insatiable coffee addicts that traversed the district, the Bean became an essential part of the ebb and flow of Zootopia. At least, that's how her father phrased it.
Where else would mammals get their caffeine fix without spending exuberant amounts of cash? Some pretentious places like Snarlbucks? Or would they cheap out and get served low-quality products at Jim Horkens?
The Sato's were prepared and able to provide that product to their customers daily at no extra cost. Sacrificing quality wasn't an option.
For any other small business, the morning crowd would batter and break the faint of heart. Those mammals came in droves. Today felt nothing more than another lucrative Monday morning rush for the Bean.
Tanaka peered over at the analog clock hanging above the front doors.
"Twenty minutes until six," she repeated to herself, then checked her smartphone; there were no new notifications. She muttered a curse to no one in particular.
Could she afford to be late on her first day?
Tanaka might not have been an official employee at the coffee shop anymore, but she couldn't step away so easily. This was her family, and the Bean was their business. She was obligated to stay and help wherever and whenever she could.
"Sure, but I've gotta be out of here in the next ten minutes. I can't be late," Tanaka stressed.
"Of course, sweetie, of course," her mother said. "I wouldn't ask you to stay longer than you need. Big day today!"
The smaller spotted elder cat shuffled towards the back-of-house.
"Let me know when you need to head out."
"Thanks, Mom," she smiled.
"Thank you, my little sugarplum. You're going to do great." Before she passed through the archway leading into the back of the shop, she made a point to remind her daughter, "Don't forget your bento box!"
"I won't!"
Tanaka spent no time fetching her apron and throwing it over her new uniform. A chuckle popped in her maw, along with an afterthought that preoccupied her for a moment.
Twenty-four years old, and her mother still felt compelled to coddle and protect her.
Once upon a time, Tanaka resented the notion of her mother's parenting—especially in front of customers. Embarrassment couldn't have begun to quantify how she felt.
Nowadays, Tanaka doesn't mind. She is nothing short of appreciative of the care she received, not because she would forget her lunch without her, of course.
Her mom forged Tanaka into who she is today. Without her mother, regardless of her imperfections, there's no telling how she would have ended up. She was (and still is) the most important mammal in her life before her brother and father.
The young spotted feline applied that gratitude and wholesome energy to her infectious gleam. Today was going to be a great day. She knew it.
Tanaka rolled up her sleeves, waltzed up behind the register, and greeted the first of her patrons.
"Hello, welcome to The Toasted Bean. What's your craving today?"
It took most, if not all, of her willpower to prevent the tail-end of her scripted question from sounding forced.
Behind a pair of black wayfarer sunglasses was her first customer. They were undoubtedly a wolf and stood quarter of a head taller than her, despite a pronounced hunch. She was short for her species, to be fair.
Woven between a mixture of musk mask and cologne was some pungent after-tone that made the young cheetah's nose wrinkle. Alcohol, if presumptions were still on the table. She would have assumed that they were homeless if not for their manner of dress.
Despite the poor body language, the slender silver-furred predator was well put together with their tan trenchcoat, navy denim slacks, and an ugly retro black and blue floral button-up. Despite the clothing looking half a size bigger than the body that wore them, you'd almost assume the wolf had a sense of civility.
Tanaka knew better. She wasn't buying the facade. Something about the lupine's demeanor screamed "creepy." She wasn't alone in that sentiment either—and they weren't discrete about it.
Whispers of the other mammals' disdain grew louder by the second. And it wasn't like the wolf was none the wiser; they were acutely aware of what was being thrown their way. For every voice that joined the chorus, their pointed ears would adjust to absorb their indifference. They didn't react to any of it. Or, more accurately, the lupine was used to it? Should she feel bad?
Regardless of the answer, Tanaka had no desire to ponder any further. Discovering what that cryptic "something" was was not on her to-do list. The less she knew, the better.
That mammal was a paying customer. If they weren't doing anything wrong, their business was as good as anyone else's. Her father would be mortified if she denied them service. Her family served worse.
Tanaka scanned the crowd. Of all the mammals roaming the city, only two could give her a silver lining. She prayed that they were in the room.
Thankfully, luck was on her side.
Walking through the door came a pair of mammals she knew quite fondly: Officers Fangmeyer and Wolford. Perfect timing.
All she had to do was take care of the customers between them, and she could be whisked away to safety—child's play. Mammals were even giving their place up in the line for them.
Damning her mother for leaving her with the only creep in the building would have to come later—
"Ma'am?"
The cheetah aimed an astonished look at the canine. An embarrassing number of seconds passed before Tanaka realized she had missed the male wolf's order.
"My apologies. I was focused on the other customers behind you," came a quick half-lie to save face. The wolf's brow raised. She leaned in to avoid suspicion, hushed her voice to a whisper, and asked, "Did you want me to—?"
"No," he declined with a shake of his head. "It's fine."
"Of course," Tanaka nodded and put on a kind smile.
Maybe her judgment was misplaced?
She adjusted her tone, leaning towards a mix that blended professionalism and normality, then repeated, "So, Mr. Big-Bad, what's your craving today?"
"Large coffee, medium roast, two creams," the stark-looking timber wolf repeated, eyes rolling under the sunglasses.
"Sure thing," Tanaka nodded politely, inputting the order's information onto the register's screen. "Will that be all?"
"Yes."
The cheetah couldn't suppress the blissful gleam that blessed her maw—an easy order. Albeit a tiny victory, but one still worthy of celebration.
Tanaka continued to wrap up the one-item transaction.
"Name for the order?"
"Edward," he answered.
Tanaka printed off the sticker label for the order and slapped it onto a large cup plucked from a stack beside her.
"Total for one large medium roast with two creams comes out to a buck fifty," she said, "Will that be cash or card?"
"Cash."
The wolf named Edward reached into one of his coat pockets and pulled out a couple of crumpled-up bills. He struggled to straighten the paper wads against the counter's edge before eventually giving up.
"Good enough," he shrugged, then handed the money over. "Keep the change."
"Thank you," Tanaka said, accepting the payment.
She tucked the bills with the others inside the register's drawer and closed it before turning to prepare the canid's drink.
"I'll have your coffee ready in just a second," she assured, covering her bases on the off chance that the wolf was the impatient type.
He was.
Tanaka could feel the daggers being trained at her back while caffeinated liquid flowed into the paper cup. Fortunately, this wasn't the first time she'd experienced the transgressions of a rude customer. Edward was just another mammal within a small minority of the thousands who frequented their store. She was prepared to tackle those ne'er-do-wells. She only wished that their equipment would work faster.
A full cup, two shots of creamer, and a lid later, Tanaka turned around to face the lupine. His arms were crossed, foot tapping like an angry rabbit, and an annoyed gaze caught promptly turning somewhere leftward into space.
Holding her tongue had never been more challenging for Tanaka. The wolf acted as if she didn't exist. She was beneath him, and he wanted her to know that. Was this how the wolf's mother raised him to act around other mammals?
Tanaka felt a strange twinge of pain in her side for a split second.
'Kill ignorance with kindness,' her mother's wisdom echoed.
"Here you are, sir," she smiled at him, placing the completed cup in front of him, "one large, two creams."
Edward took the cup into his silver-white paw and took a slow, sullen stride toward the doors.
"Hope you have a wonderful day," Tanaka waved to the rude canine as he exited the building. He didn't acknowledge the gesture.
Tanaka eyed the hunched wolf as he walked out and away from the shopfront. Swells of anger that built up during their exchange—which lasted until he'd waltzed towards the park and out of sight—began to subside.
She asked for a brief moment to the following customers in line and turned to fake cleaning up the equipment and counter behind her. Hidden from those behind, the corners of Tanaka's mouth fell into a frown.
Tanaka knew worrying about some stranger that wanted nothing more than a simple cup of coffee wouldn't help her. She shouldn't have cared, and the wolf didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but she gave that customer her time anyway. The least he could have done was recognize the work she put in. A simple "thank you" would have sufficed.
And there Tanaka was, overthinking. Again. Pulling herself away from poor customer interactions, or bad situations in general, was her life's challenge; she cared too much.
"Jerk," the cheetah grumbled to herself.
Talking to him was a mistake, she lamented. So much for kindness.
One of her paws rubbed at the back of her tense neck.
Was it her?
Stop, a thought insisted. A familiar voice, but not her own internal monologue this time. He's not worth it. You did everything you could. You're likely to never see him again anyway. Let it go.
Lingering doubt begged to differ.
Don't worry about him. You need to take a second for yourself. Relax. Close your eyes.
Tanaka stifled a groan and did as she was told.
Breath in.
Air flooded into her nostrils and pooled deep in her lungs. She held that breath for a few seconds, just like she had practiced.
And out.
Slow and steady, the breath released. The voice persuaded Tanaka to repeat the exercise as needed. One more round was enough.
A tightness that built up in her shoulders and back began to subside. Tanaka felt a little bit better.
Good. When you're ready, wrap up the rest of these orders and grab a cup of coffee yourself; you deserve it. You need to be at your best today. You've got a city to look after.
Tanaka gave a knowing nod to herself and opened her eyes. Determination allowed a weak hint of a smile to bless her muzzle. Greeting her remaining patrons didn't feel so bad.
Before she knew it, the line got shorter. Each mammal was kinder than the last—which she appreciated. The orders were simple and easy to make too. She was unstoppable.
Handing one final coffee to an exhausted-looking panther, Fangmeyer and Wolford advanced to the front. She couldn't contain her excitement when they got to the counter.
"Hey, guys!"
"What's up, Tani," said Fangmeyer, raising his striped paw for a fist bump, which the smaller feline gladly obliged.
"Mmmh," came an incomprehensible greeting from the tiger officer's other half. The wolf had seen better days.
"Geeze," the cheetah remarked, "are all wolves like this in the morning?"
"Like, what?" Fangmeyer asked.
"Miserable. Like the world's going to end."
"Not particularly," Fangmeyer gave a half-chuckle. "Alex's grumpy because he hasn't had his morning coffee yet."
"My machine at home broke," the grown lupine grumbled like a pup.
"Then let me ease your suffering." Tanaka grabbed three large cups from the stack and asked them, "The usual?"
"Yep - yes," the officers replied.
"Perfect. I'll get mine too." The printer spewed out the appropriate labels for each of them. "Should be ready in a jiff."
Tanaka proceeded to prepare the drinks only after looking at the time first. The clock read eleven minutes until six. Their trio of beverages would be her last order for the day.
"Mom," she called, sidestepping closer towards the archway, "last order, I've gotta head out!"
"Right, right," a nonchalant elder cat said out of view from the back, "I'll be back over in a second. Thank you, sweetie!"
"No problem, Mom."
Tanaka put her head down and found her stride. Fangmeyer's staple caramel latte came first, topped off with a generous sprinkle of salt and warm caramel. Then came her iced mocha, topped with an extra espresso shot and a healthy drizzle of chocolate syrup. She couldn't resist taking a small sip before moving on to the most simplistic beverage of the order, Wolford's classic—dark roast, black.
Tanaka's paw stretched outward towards the metal canister's faucet.
Fur stood on its ends when she felt nothing in her grip.
Clasping a pawful of air shouldn't have frightened her as much as it did. Heat pooled at the tips of her ears. How many mammals in the crowd behind her noticed the error?
She should have recalled that her brother had removed the container for a refill. Ten minutes later and neither returned. Where was he?
Thankfully, Tanaka didn't have the chance to utter so much as a syllable of inquiry. Her mother was a mind reader.
"Kei's coming with the dark roast in a minute," she said. "He's putting the top on now."
"Heard," her daughter replied, "thank you!"
With nothing more to do until her brother arrived, Tanaka stood idle, mammal-watching at the counter. But that became boring after a few seconds. Fangmeyer and Wolford were already talking amongst themselves. She didn't want to butt in and make it awkward.
Instead, Tanaka chose to play the silent hero and pay for their order outright.
She hadn't mentioned it to Fangmeyer or Wolford, but she planned on using her own money to pay anyway. They'd already done so much to prepare Tanaka for her new job. It was the least she could do to return the favor.
On the bright side, she could shamelessly add a couple of croissants and not feel guilty. Her mother made the best pastries, and Tanaka wasn't about to pass on a fresh batch.
As Tanaka wrapped up processing her payment, she accidentally overheard the pair of Officers mention something about a particular mammal.
"—Edward—finally—?"
Tanaka resisted the urge to turn her head. She feared that her devilish ears, like the wolf in their conversation before her, showed her hand.
Edward? Tanaka's interest piqued. Were they talking about the creep? No way. Did they know who that mammal was?—
"Chirp, chirp."
Soft, high-pitched primal chirrups to Tanaka's left beckoned her away from the private conversation. Several inquisitive patrons turned their heads to the sound not intended for them. She'd have to remember to ask her friends about the wolf later.
In the meantime, she'd turn her attention towards her younger brother, who had returned triumphantly from the back-of-house. He kept a tight grip on the side handles of a cylindrical metal canister full of delicious dark nectar. It looked heavy, and he looked distressed.
Their mother flanked him with a tray of freshly baked pastries and began loading them into the display cabinet. She raised her brow in Tanaka's direction as if the young mammal were missing something important.
A double-take gave the young cheetah all the information she needed. Tanaka stood in front of where the coffee canister would end up. How long had she stood there for?
[Sorry,] Tanaka signed for Kei in a mild panic, then awkwardly took a few paces backward against the side wall out of the way.
The deaf cheetah hoisted the large container back onto its stand on the rear counter. Kei shook the discomfort away from his paws and rubbed at his sore fingers after signing a small, [It's okay.]
Tanaka couldn't help the half frown that tugged at the corner of her mouth. She watched downtrodden dejection wash over her brother's form. There was something else on his mind. She was pretty confident of what that something could be.
Tanaka waved in Kei's peripheral to get his attention, then signed, [Everything okay?]
[I'm fine,] he lied with a nod. Tanaka would make it clear to him that it wouldn't work.
[I'm guessing it has something to do with my new job. You're still worried about me, aren't you?]
Kei's ears fell to the back of his head. Although his digits fidgeted, he didn't bother with a reply. Tanaka knew what the answer was.
Tanaka could feel oodles of confidence in her step start to wane. Guilt had crept up on her like a chill. She had a clue as to why.
Becoming a police officer was something Tanaka had wanted since she was a teenager. Her parents fought like hell to keep her grounded in the shop, but she wanted none of it. Tanaka knew her value beyond the confines of the Bean. There was too much good that she could do for the city than standing taking orders in a coffee shop eight hours a day. After everything she'd been through in her youth, becoming a guiding light for mammals in need felt like an obligation as a proud citizen of Zootopia.
Those morals, however, didn't extend to just Tanaka's dream. Familial relationships were equally important as her career, maybe more so. Even if she couldn't compromise her beliefs, she would always be there for them should they need her, Kei especially. Her brother had been through enough of her problems.
Kei was understandably worried about her, much like their parents before them. Policing meant getting involved in precarious situations, and sometimes mammals get hurt—officers included. What pained her brother most was that he could do nothing to stop it. To be honest, that fact scared Tanaka too. Pretending to discount her career's dangers was callous, and predicting the future was impossible. She couldn't prepare for every possible scenario. Her training would help tackle the direst of situations. That left her better judgment to handle the rest.
At the end of the day, the best she could provide was meek reassurances, even if she didn't honestly believe them yet herself.
And that's precisely what she did for her brother.
Tanaka gave Kei the brightest gleam she could, even if he refused to meet it.
[I know it's hard, but I promise I'll be as safe as I can, Kei,] she said. [I've got Fangmeyer and Wolford to keep me company. They'll keep me out of trouble. You've got nothing to worry about.]
[You can't promise me that,] Kei signed slow and cold.
"You need to head out, Tani," their mother reminded Tanaka. She weaved around her two children, taking the cup intended for Officer Wolford and filling it with freshly made coffee. "Wrap up your conversation and get going. You don't want to be late."
Kei sensed the change in her mother's body language directed at his sister, and his breathing accelerated. Regardless of his ability to hear, he understood. Kei looked on the verge of panicking, torn between searching for an escape route or clinging to his sister's uniform.
"I will. Give me a second, please," Tanaka requested, ushering her brother gently by the arm out and away from the confines of the counter.
While their mother served the canid officer his drink, Tanaka looked back to Kei.
[Then I'll do my best. How about that?] She compromised. [I won't do anything rash. I'll follow all my training to the letter and prioritize safety first. You're right. I can't guarantee that luck will always be on my side. But I'll always try my best to put the odds in my favor. That way, you won't have to worry.]
Tanaka witnessed the conflict laced within her brother's distant gaze turn to feeble indecision as his fingers attempted to form disjointed words and letters. There was far too much on Kei's mind, more than what he could relay in a short amount of time.
Instead, he settled on concession in the form of a single resigned sentence.
[I still will,] Kei compactly signed.
[That's good to know,] she chuckled, [I'd be scared if you didn't.]
While the older sibling ruffled the top of her brother's headfur, the tiger officer requested at her behest, "You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Tanaka said, taking off her apron.
Tanaka signed one more time to Kei.
[Love you. If I don't message you before then, I'll see you when I get back.]
[Love you too,] he replied, a smile tugging the corner of his maw before fleeing to the shop's rear. Kei would be fine. Tanaka knew he would be.
Once the cheetah's apron was hung back up, the triad of officers picked up their coffees and pastries and began to march toward the doors. They made it halfway before Tanaka got the feeling that she was missing something essential and stopped.
When Tanaka turned around, she found her mother holding the premade bento box she had crafted especially for her, tied up with a floral handkerchief and a pair of chopsticks. Tanaka's mother wore a smug look.
"Thought you could get away without saying a word to your mother? Kids these days."
Fangmeyer gave a hearty laugh at the jest and nudged the shoulder of the spotted cat officer. She rolled her eyes before snickering along with him.
Tanaka sped back toward her mother, obtained the box from her, and gave the elder cat a quick peck on her cheek before returning to her friends.
"Thanks, Mom!" Tanaka called out behind her. "You're the best. Love you!"
"Love you too, Tani. We'll see you later tonight."
Officers Wolford, Fangmeyer, and Sato fled the Toasted Bean with their precious cargo and started toward the adjacent Savannah Central Park.
Tanaka was keen on taking full advantage of their passing time and admired the serenity of the urban jungle surrounding them.
Birds overhead sang their early morning tunes, darting between the trees and buildings with fervent purpose. The sun peered through a partly cloudy sky, providing a comforting layer of warmth against the cool, refreshing spring breeze. Surrounding them were the hustle and bustle of the diverse populace that inhabited their breathtaking utopia. What a marvelous place Zootopia was.
Savannah Central Park was upon them after a few minutes' stroll. The Precinct's carved circular stony structure could be seen past the trees that dotted the circumference of the watering hole.
The spotted feline adorned a bright and energetic grin.
In a matter of minutes, Tanaka would be among the peers she had idolized for years. No longer would they be mere customers who frequented their shop but colleagues with whom she could build a proper work relationship. Tanaka could hardly contain herself.
Today is going to be a great day, Tanaka proclaimed internally. She could feel it.
Before the highs of caffeine and overexcitement took hold of Tanaka's better judgment, she allowed curiosity to get the best of her.
"Hey, Tommy," she asked the tiger to her right.
"What's up, Tani?"
"I might have overheard you and Wolford talking about that wolf that came into the shop earlier; I think his name was Edward."
The name drop garnered a shocked look each from the pair of veteran officers.
"Do you two know him from somewhere?"
Fangmeyer and Wolford shared a wordless exchange, escalating the few seconds of silence to awkward tension. The lupine made his intentions plain to the other officers, electing to take a swig of his coffee rather than answer Tanaka's question. The striped feline wasn't overjoyed being handed the reins of the conversation. Fangmeyer shot his partner a stern look. Wolford responded in kind with the flash of a sly smirk and took another sip to spite him.
"He's one of Precinct One's detectives," a hesitant answer pried from the tiger. "Edward got hired in with Judy before she solved the Missing Mammals case."
"That's weird," the cheetah pondered, "I've known Judy since she got here. If that's true, how come I haven't heard of him before?"
"Edward's not really a mammal to bring up in casual conversation," Wolford said. "Plus, his face wasn't the one plastered on every poster board from here to the Meadowlands."
"Fair point."
"Last time we saw Edward, the chief put him on paid leave," Fangmeyer admitted. "We haven't heard anything or seen him since. I didn't think he'd be coming back at all, to be fair."
"Why?" Came Tanaka's innocent question. Neither appeared like they wanted to answer. She wouldn't relent. "What happened?"
"Honestly," Wolford said, "You don't want to know."
"Well, now I'm curious," the cheetah grinned, interpreting the answer as something akin to a punchline rather than something to be taken seriously.
"Don't be," Fangmeyer stressed.
Tanaka recoiled a touch, unexpecting her reaction. Anger wasn't something she'd often witnessed with Fangmeyer; resentment was entirely new. She honestly thought it was a bit of impersonating Wolford.
The last thing Tanaka wanted was to strike a nerve.
Whoever Edward was and whatever drama he caused, Tanaka thought it wise not to raise any more questions. She felt terrible for bringing it up in the first place.
"Sorry," Tanaka muttered, defeated.
Fangmeyer was quick to clock Tanaka's reaction after that. The energetic atmosphere surrounding the trio turned solemn and somber. Neither one was willing to spark up another conversation.
Amidst guilt and shame, Fangmeyer caved, settling that an explanation in some form was owed to the ZPD's newest recruit. He handled the uncomfortable subject like a ticking time bomb.
"Edward's a complicated case, to put it lightly," Fangmeyer began. Tanaka slowly recouped her investment in the conversation. "If you're seriously dead-set on knowing more about him, I'll tell you pieces of what I know. For starters, Edward's a very protective mammal. He keeps to himself and doesn't let anyone pry into his personal life. For him, it's a strict regimen of 'work, work, work.' Comradery isn't something he strives for anymore."
"Why?"
"Probably because life keeps dealing him a shitty hand," Fangmeyer said cryptically. "Before you ask, I won't go into too many specifics for his sake. He's not essential for performing your duties. Don't go off the deep end trying to figure him out, either. He's not worth it."
The tiger officer gave a momentary pause to reflect on what he'd said. Forgetting to calculate Tanaka's tenacity into the equation—which was almost on par with Hopps'—was dangerous. Judy almost single-handedly broke the city. What damage could a spunky caffeinated cheetah cause?
Fangmeyer grumbled curses to himself. Now he understood how the Chief felt.
"Except, knowing you, you'll probably find them out eventually, anyway. So, I guess, for now, a morsel: I'm willing to tell you the bits and pieces I've picked up from Judy, so long as you keep it between us," Fangmeyer said, emphasizing the stipulation of their one-sided exchange. "She's the only other mammal on the force who'd gotten close to him, and she doesn't divulge much. Judy would kill me if I caved and told you everything."
Tanaka nodded in agreement to the condition.
"They grew up together in the Burrows. The two weren't friends by any means, but it's a 'small' community—everyone knows everyone there. From what she's told me, Edward's been nothing but trouble since he was a pup. He was part of a vicious pack of bullies who targeted physically or emotionally vulnerable mammals for fun, Judy included. You know their type—stereotypical jock athletes with their heads so far up their asses they'd classify as giraffes."
Fangmeyer allowed himself and the other two officers a round of lighthearted chortles before continuing.
"Story goes that their antics boiled to a head in high school, and the principal gave them an ultimatum; stop their nonsense or risk forfeiting potential scholarship opportunities. And that was that.
"Of course, take everything I've said with a grain of salt. Judy might be a reliable source, but that information could be biased and might not be accurate. I wouldn't want to drag Edward's name through the mud for no reason, especially for professionalism's sake. But I trust Judy. Speaking from our personal experiences," he said, pointing to Wolford and himself, "her stories aren't far-fetched. Edward's been nothing but a dick since he got here."
"That's not to diminish his value to the force, though," Woldford admitted matter-of-factly. "Snow was still a decent officer and an even better detective now, but that's it as far as praise goes. Edward may take a bullet for you, but he wouldn't hesitate to stab you in the back if it meant climbing further up the ladder. Ask anyone who's partnered with him. There's a reason he works alone. He's only in this line of work for himself. Give him enough time, and he'll end up using you too.
"My advice: Stay away from him," the wolf warned, projecting his malice onto every syllable. "You're better off not knowing Edward at all. If you're lucky, you won't have to."
Tanaka took a moment to process the information dump—and there was a lot to process.
To her surprise, there was a lot more to Edward than Tanaka expected. She didn't know what was worse, that her intuition was obscenely spot on or that this wretched mammal would soon become one of her many coworkers for the foreseeable future. At least Edward wasn't an officer. Being a detective was busy work. The potential for their paths to cross was infinitesimally small. No more than the occasional question and report would be required—if her findings pertained to an active case, that is.
She would do best to take the caution in earnest.
"Roger that," the cheetah finally heeded.
With the elephant in the room quelled, the trio moved on to other things.
Minutes passed. Along the way, Wolford and Fangmeyer trailed off into another conversation regarding some recent sporting event. Inattentive to the current discussion, Tanaka returned to admiring her new workplace's outer beauty while she ate the croissant her mother made. She'd never tire of her mother's baking or the view.
From a distance, she spotted a couple large mammals decked in the ZPD's blues enter the front doors of Precinct One. Behind them flanked the wolf detective.
Tanaka replayed the exchange in the coffee shop. She wasn't the only victim of Edward's indifference—Wolford and Fangmeyer's accounts were a testament to that.
What did the other officers know?
O O O
Before Edward set out from the Grand Pangolin Arms, he assumed that the most arduous task today would be leaving the comfort of his apartment.
Oh, how naïve he was.
The silver wolf sulled at the base of the stairs leading to the doors of Precinct One. Six steps for a mammal his size separated Edward from a triumphant return to his workplace. He might as well have been a mouse climbing a mountain range.
This wasn't one of his nighttime escapades. He wasn't prowling Happytown looking for someone to fill his cup or some tail to chase for a "good" time. He'd be amongst the mammals he'd built relationships—or feuds—with for the last three years of his life. Most, rightfully, despised him. They were probably glad he'd left.
Edward's free silver-white paw grazed the leatherbound cover wrapped around his neck. Those three words clawed at the remnants of his drive and dug out a deeper hole in his chest.
Was he confident enough to follow through with this? Was he ready to come back?
He clutched his badge tight. Pressure swelled in his chest.
Bobby would've known what to do, the wolf scolded himself solemnly.
"Look what the cat dragged in," spoke a deep, hushed voice behind him to his right.
Tremors shook the ground beneath Edward's feet. Footfalls, from his experience. They grew closer until the mammals who owned them passed him by. Rhinowhitz and Pennington. Edward thought it better not to respond to the rhino's distasteful jab and let them enter Precinct One with the win of their verbal spar—if he could call it that. At least Francine acknowledged his presence.
Edward swallowed his pride, stood up straight, and fell back into old habits, putting on a deadpan expression.
Edward could almost hear his dearly departed screaming at him from the heavens, "It wouldn't hurt to smile, Mr. Grouchy-pants."
Progress be damned. Edward wanted to believe his old partner was right, but being trounced on wasn't an option. Not here, not now.
If nobody cared about him, why should he bother with reciprocation?
Edward trudged up the steps and arrived at the doors leading to the lobby. Past the glass, he could see the multitudes of colleagues conversing with one another toward the bullpen. They exhumed happiness.
The canid scoffed to himself. How long will it take for the others to notice me? Bet they'll be happy to see my mug.
Edward removed the glasses from his face long enough to stare at his reflection. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He still looked like a million years of bad road, even with the luxury of a proper shower. Even the coffee in his paw couldn't save him now. The bags under his eyes hadn't done him any favors, nor did the light fragrance of booze emanating from his clothing, which he hadn't noticed until now.
"Shit," the lupine muttered to himself.
Edward could imagine the ridicule he'd receive if his peers caught wind of it and the scandalous rumors to follow. Enough of that happened before he left. Might as well have given them the gun along with the ammunition.
What he didn't want to dream of were the repercussions of their chief. If Bogo caught wind of misinformation and assumed the worst, Edward wouldn't know how to proceed. Bogo was one of the only mammals left in Zootopia that he respected. The last thing Edward wanted was to tarnish that relationship with his mistakes.
He closed his eyes and drew an apprehensive breath. Causing a bigger scene wouldn't do him any favors.
Edward quickly reminded himself he was a detective, not a beat cop. He wasn't required to join the bullpen. The other officers wouldn't see him past the lobby and couldn't get close enough to sniff him out.
That left Bogo.
Being exempt from morning roll call would allow Edward to avoid the cape buffalo initially, but that was a temporary solution. Prowling the offices was something the chief was known for. If his officers and detectives were working cases and got held up for any reason, they could expect Bogo to loom over their shoulder and pester them for updates at a moment's notice.
At some point during Edward's shift, Bogo would stop by to touch base with him. Meeting with the chief personally after a leave of absence was customary. Considering how Edward left, his case would be no exception.
He was not looking forward to that conversation.
All Edward wanted was to resume his daily routine: staying busy at his cubicle, answering questions, and solving cases, just as he did before he left. If that meant confronting his boss sooner rather than later, he'd happily bite the bullet.
Edward placed the wayfarer safety net back on the bridge of his snout. Avoiding unwanted interaction with his other coworkers was paramount until he reached the comfort of his cubicle. Questions couldn't be raised if no one had the opportunity to speak with him. Forfeiting proper manners to keep the impression of normality seemed justified.
Not like he had any image left to tarnish at this point, anyway.
The silver wolf sucked in a sharp breath to fortify the dilapidated barricades that made up his walls and collected himself.
"Don't focus on 'ifs,' 'ands,' or 'buts.' Take that first step," he repeated the token of sage advice to himself. "Whatever happens, happens."
When he was ready, Edward pulled the door open and walked inside.
The lupine spent the first of his cautionary steps absorbing the environment.
Resonant echoes from the sparse clusters of mammals reverberated throughout the expansive lobby. Their indistinguishable voices were hushed and calm, not as abrasive as the mammals that shuffled through would be later in the day. Not a soul noticed the wolf immediately, which allowed Edward to relax a little.
Sweet and sugary fragrances attacked Edward's sinuses next. The tantalizing scent of circular delights caused his mouth to salivate. Skipping breakfast felt even more like a mistake. He hoped something would be left in the bullpen after assignments were dolled out. The office break rooms were never able to keep snacks around for long.
Speaking of: Stationed at the front desk was Precinct One's resident junk food addict, Benjamin Clawhouser. The cheerful chubby cheetah was busy preparing his workspace for the day—organizing his Gazelle-themed trinkets and plentiful snacks, restocking various pamphlets, resources, and forms, and signing into the desktop to help manage his many receptionist duties. Beyond those simple tasks, vibrant energy radiated from the feline. With the smile he donned, nothing could stop him.
Clawhouser looked up from the hidden computer screen and locked eyes with the lupine. That radiant beam faded like an afterthought.
Edward tensed and tore his horrified gaze away from the cheetah.
Of all the mammals working that day, it was only fitting that the precinct's gossip queen would be the first to catch him skulking around. The whole department would be privy to his return by roll call's end if Clawhauser had his way.
Screw sightseeing. Edward needed to run.
Panicked strides hastened toward the direction of the leftward archway leading to the offices. Edward wanted nothing more than to disappear. Clawhouser and the powers that be ensured that the detective wouldn't get his way.
"Edward!"
The silver canid didn't pay the receptionist any heed. Big mistake. Unwilling to let him slip away, the cheetah bellowed his name for the whole precinct to hear.
"Hey, Edward!"
Stood dead in his tracks was the lupine, who had winced at the thundering announcement of his surname. Conversations decrescendoed into a deafening, excruciating silence.
"'You mind stopping at the desk for a second? Chief said it's urgent," asked an innocent Clawhauser, unaffected by the change in atmosphere.
All eyes were on the wolf. Despite not paying heed to the onlookers directly, Edward could sense their judgment searing into his fur from afar. Scanning the dispersed crowds behind the safety of his sunglasses confirmed that fact. They were invested in the exchange, patiently waiting to see what he would do.
Cosplaying a turtle felt natural at that moment for Edward. No willpower was spared in resisting the urge to sink his head into his shoulders. Ignoring Clawhauser wasn't an option. Awkwardly standing in the open felt like a death sentence. He had to make a call.
With a scoff, Edward basked in defeat and changed course, taking a brisk stride in the cheetah's direction.
Murmurs of gossip rumbled low in the air the second he inched forward. Edward picked out a few of those snide voices against the cacophony of sound. Those he heard were spreading nasty rumors about him, wondering why he bothered to return in the first place. Meanwhile, Rhinowitz had begun vilifying his strange disheveled appearance and recalled a dramatic retelling of their interaction before walking up to the precinct's doors. None of the panderings aided the wolf in any way; to that, he was certain.
Charming, Edward frowned.
The lupine buried whatever had arisen from his colleagues' hearsay and marched on until he finally arrived before Officer Clawhauser.
"Good morning, Edward," the cheetah warmly greeted.
"Good morning, Ben," grumbled the canid. Edward hadn't bothered to disguise the wear and strain evident in his voice.
The feline was quick to offer a sliver of genuine compassion.
"Listen, I know we haven't really talked much since… Happy Town," he hesitated, "and I shouldn't pry, I know, but how are you? Are you doing alright? If there's anything that you want to talk about—"
"I'm fine," Edward muttered the quick disingenuous affirmation.
That may have come off a little too harsh.
"I appreciate the thought, Ben, but there's nothing left to talk about," the canid officer backpedaled with a sigh. "Don't worry about me. I'm not important anyway. Now, what did the Chief want?"
"Bogo wanted you in the bullpen today," the crestfallen cat answered. "Didn't tell me exactly why, but I think he wants to meet with you about your return to active duty after roll call."
"Figures," whinged the wolf, carefully eyeing the rightward arch that led to the pen. So much for my mental pep-talk, he left out.
"I'm sure it's nothing. Might be assigning you to a case if I had to guess."
"Forever the optimist," Edward sighed.
Though he doubted Bogo would gift him an assignment the day of his return, there was no use ruminating over their chief's summons. Delaying the inevitable would only do Edward a disservice. He'd be late otherwise, which was an unacceptable offense in the cape buffalo's eyes.
The silver wolf nodded at Clawhauser and said, "Thank you, Benji."
"Any time, Ed," replied the cheetah, watching the wolf take his leave.
