AUTHOR'S NOTES ~ I want to say a few things before we start. This is a translation of ''Не по ту сторону туннеля'' This work based on the first season of the anime, so some details may be changed. Rated M for violence and sexual content. English is not my first language, if u find any mitakes, feel free to correct me.

There will be pairings Kurt Wides/Sheila, Philip Fobes/Juno, Legoshi/Haru.

Here's full description:

Just one wrong turn on the road can drive you to unimaginable madness.

Two humans accidentally found themselves in a parallel world inhabited by anthropomorphic animals. Now, they must stick together to find their way home, as they are trapped in this world for a long time.

What will they discover in this world, and what will the animals discover in these so-called 'aliens'? Will humans become friends with the animals or become "worth their weight in gold" as delicacies?

Hope you enjoy it.

"There's a whole world between light and darkness. And this world belongs to us"

Through his sleep, he heard a muffled knock on the door. It became more and more distinct with each passing second. He felt just like a protagonist in a horror movie who ran away from a monster, but this monster was faster and gradually catching up with him.

Kurt Wides finally woke up to the constant knocks on the door. He realized he hadn't dreamed of them and quickly got out of bed.

''Ugh, damn, who's there so early?'' Kurt said, looking at the alarm clock by the bed — 7:00 AM. Oh, right, Saturday. Mr. Payne's here for the rent.

Quickly pulling on a T-shirt and pants and grabbing money for the rent, Kurt, who still hadn't fully recovered from his sleep, walked crookedly toward the front door. The eighteen-year-old looked like he'd had a few bottles of hard liquor last night, but he never drank. After all, how could he get alcohol? In the States, you can only buy it if you're 21. It's just that Kurt likes to sleep in and forgot that the landlord was coming today. He didn't want to face the honorable Mr. Payne by looking like that, but what to do?

Mr. Payne was 166 centimeters tall, he looked like an early twentieth-century Briton: round glasses, a bushy mustache, neatly styled hair, and an austere suit. The only thing missing was the top hat on his head. In his hands, Herbert Payne held a notebook.

''Good morning, Kurt. You just woke up? Don't tell me you've forgotten that I always arrive at seven in the morning,'' Mr. Payne said, adjusting his glasses.

''Good morning, Mr. Payne. I'm sorry, sir, I forgot. I knew it yesterday afternoon, but then I forgot at night, and I've told myself many times to set the alarm.''

''Okay, forget it, Kurt. So, you owe me $400, as usual.''

''Yes, sir, here,'' Kurt said, handing Mr. Payne the money. ''Anyway, how are you doing, Mr. Payne?''

''Thanks, Kurt, I'm doing well,'' said Herbert, making a note in his notebook. ''How long do you plan to rent the house for?''

''I think it's going to be a while, sir. After all, I'm in college and work part-time at Taco Bell. I mean, I earn about as much as the average student. So, I'm not making any plans to move. Besides, I'm happy here, sir.''

''Yeah, I guess you're right. All right, well, we're done. Have a good day, Kurt.''

''Thank you, Mr. Payne. Goodbye.''

The landlord tucked his notebook into the inside pocket of his jacket, got back into his Ford Mondeo, and drove further away on his business.

Meanwhile, Kurt went back home. And the first thing he did after the meeting was to put the kettle on the stove. When he checked the fridge, he realized that he would have to buy groceries again today. And the coffee, too, since there likely wouldn't be any left today.

Today is Kurt's day off from both college and work. A day-off plan always had a certain meaning for him. Kurt was organized, he never left anything until the last minute. If Kurt needed to go to the store, for example, he would do it. While the water was boiling in the kettle and leftover Chinese seafood noodles were heating up in the microwave, Kurt was browsing the news and email on his smartphone.

For Kurt, attending the School of Law is a responsibility above all else. He moved from his hometown of Poyt-Grady to Denver, Colorado, only six months ago. Kurt's father, Gerald Wides, should be commended for diligently saving for his son's education over the years.

He is employed at an industrial plant specializing in manufacturing industrial air conditioners. Kurt barely remembers his mother. She died during a robbery at a gas station. Because of panic, she tried to escape to her car but was shot in the back. Despite the doctors' efforts, she died at the scene. Kurt was only two months old at the time of the tragedy.

Eighteen years have passed since the tragedy. Thanks to his father and grandmother, Kurt received an excellent school education. His father worked hard at the factory to feed his family: his young son and elderly mother.

You can't say that this upbringing made him a nerd. He had found a kind of balance between the nerds and the other members of the school world, which were the athletes, bullies, and others. Nerds are always getting hits from bullies, but not Kurt. He could respond with stronger words if he was bullied, so no one got in his way.

After breakfast, as planned, Kurt went to the store. The weather at the end of April was quite favorable. Twelve degrees Celsius was typical for this time of year. Winter clothes were already left deep in the closet. Therefore, he was comfortable in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. Nevertheless, the moisture from yesterday's rain made him feel refreshed.

Kurt didn't have to walk far. There was a small convenience store just around the corner. However, Walmart was a long way from here, and if it weren't for the buses, it would have taken Kurt at least forty minutes to get there. There weren't many cars on the road. However, it was Saturday, a day off.

Kurt always bought a week's worth of groceries. He didn't really like going to the store, he went to the small one nearby once a week, and went to Walmart even less often, once a month. His scholarship and paycheck brought in a good amount of money, but he knew that he couldn't afford anything special until he had a house and a full-time job. And in his head, he often made a list of the things he wanted to buy after he received his first significant payment. The first thing was a car. Not a new one, of course, but a used small car.

After returning home, Kurt began to put food in the fridge. Five minutes later, he heard a knock on the door. The knock was loud. Normal people don't knock that hard. Kurt knew only one person who could do that.

''Phillip Fobes,'' Kurt said with a smile as if he were gently scolding his friend for a minor mistake.

''What? Not happy to see an old friend, buddy?''

Phillip Fobes, or just Phil, was the one and only close friend Kurt had during those years. They went to school together from first through fifth grade. After fifth grade, however, Phil had to move from Poyt-Grady to Denver because his father got a prestigious job with a coal mining company in Colorado. Nevertheless, the friends continued to communicate via e-mail. Their paths crossed again when Kurt moved to Denver after high school to attend law school. The first time they met again was at the train station.

If you wondered what Phil was up to, the list would go on for a long time. He seemed to want to try everything.

Firstly, he started music school when he was nine, but he didn't stay there long. ''I've learned to play the guitar, and that's enough.'' he always say.

Then, he devoted himself to sports. He first tried basketball, attending for only four months. By the way, it is very strange that Phil left basketball because, for an eleven-year-old, he was much taller than average, and now he's 19 and reaches 206 cm in height. Anyway, Phil kept his departure from basketball a secret. He spent only two months in volleyball and four in baseball. That was during his fifth-grade year. After moving to Denver in sixth grade, Phil took up boxing for five months and taekwondo for six. In ninth grade, Phil devoted himself to hockey and played for his school team until his senior year in 11th grade.

While at school, Phil joined sports clubs, which helped him become a healthy, physically fit, and hardy person. He never smoked either.

After high school, Phil became an amateur hockey player. In his spare time, he frequented hockey venues and played with amateurs like him. He didn't see himself playing in the NHL, but he was a huge fan of the Colorado Avalanche. He said he would never be as great in hockey as Phil Esposito, Valeri Kharlamov, or Wayne Gretzky.

His dream is to help people. And so Phil went to the Denver Police Academy to become a police officer. And then, after a while, maybe join the S.W.A.T team.

''Kurt, I have great news,'' Phil said, walking into the house.

''Let me guess. Did you decide to go to the NHL and play hockey after all?'' Kurt asked, opening a new carton of coffee for Phil.

''Ha ha, nice try,'' Phil replied, settling on the couch. ''But no, it's about us. Anyway, Dad's away on a business trip to Salt Lake City, and he'll be gone for at least a week. And mom's still in Hawaii. So, there's a game tonight, and we can watch it together at my place. How do you like it?''

''You inviting me to a hockey-watching party? Let me think about it. I don't see why not.''

''Come on, there's beer tonight, Czech beer. Besides, dude, it's a game tonight. I think Colorado has a good chance to beat Vancouver.''

''Beer and the hockey, huh? I'm in. When do you want me to come to your place?'' Kurt asked, handing his friend a mug of coffee.

Phil sipped coffee a bit, he was quiet for a moment (apparently, he realized that it was a cheap powdered coffee) and then replied:

''Great, then I'll pick you up at 6:00 tonight.''

He finished all the coffee in one gulp, handed the mug to Kurt, and headed for the front door.

''Okay, I owe you chips, then,'' Kurt said before Phil left his house.

''Sure,'' Phil replied with a fleeting glance at his friend, then got out and headed for his dark yellow Mercedes Benz W211.

Holidays of all kinds were a regular occurrence for Kurt. He went door-to-door on Halloween until he was eleven years old. Christmas has been and will always remain his favorite holiday. However, he was not very fond of large crowds of people. That's why he celebrated the next Christmas in a modest friendly company with Phil.

He only found himself in a large enough company during college. Often, he and his department acquaintances would go to the library to discuss various pieces of legislation. As a lawyer, it is crucial to know how to defend your client and interpret the law correctly. Kurt would sit and write down the thoughts and suggestions of his classmates, occasionally correcting them. These meetings usually took place after all the lectures, but he often missed them due to work.

In addition to a few packs of chips, he brought a few bottles of soda. Kurt was not averse to drinking alcohol, but he preferred to have a Coke in his company.

After all, instead of waiting, Kurt decided to clean the house. Busy days at college and work sometimes didn't leave him time to do some house cleaning or even have dinner. Returning home by midnight, Kurt would immediately come to bed. He has only six hours of sleep before waking up for college again.

But that didn't make him too angry. He understood he was an adult, and — five more minutes — wouldn't work anymore.

It's already 6:00 p.m. now. Phil pulled up at that time, as he promised. Kurt put the groceries in the trunk of the Mercedes and sat next to Phil.

Phil's house was located outside the city, in a prestigious neighborhood. Phil's father earned a lot of money from his new prestigious position, which enabled him to afford to buy an expensive plot of land and build on it a luxurious and equally expensive two-story mansion with a large living room, several bedrooms, and bathrooms, a Jacuzzi, and a swimming pool. He acquired everything that rich people usually have.

As they drove along a country road through the woods towards the upscale neighborhoods, an hour had passed since they had left Kurt's house. The sun was setting behind the Colorado Mountains, moving farther to the west.

As Kurt and Phil drove to their destination, their usual conversation ensued.

''Hey Phil, have you been on any dangerous calls yet?'' Kurt asked.

''Nope, I haven't,'' Phil said, ''In the academy, when I heard that I was being transferred to the police station for an internship, I was, frankly, happy as a clam. And you know what? Now I'm just an office clerk. Bring-serve, fill these papers, you know. Only once they said to me, 'Listen, we need to move a suspect from one cell to another. Stay close by and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.' So I ended up just standing there and watching my coworkers move this punk from one cell to another. And there was only about five meters between the cells.''

''I know that feel.''

''Yeah, this nonsense makes me want to go to S.W.A.T. more and more.''

''I see. Did they give you a gun, by the way?''

''Well, I was told... w-wait, what's that?'' Phil said and started to slow the car down.

In front of them, several cones and barriers with the inscription "Road Closed" appeared on the dark road. This surprised Phil, for the road had been open for several hours.

''What the hell?'' Phil asked himself, then took out his smartphone and looked at the maps. ''Did I take a wrong turn? No, I was on the right road. Damn, but how could I know the road was closed now? There's no mention of it on the map.''

''Why is the road closed?'' Kurt asked.

''I don't know if it's the renovation or the collapse or some other crap.''

''Can't we go around here?'' Kurt asked.

''Excuse me?''

''Here, this way.'' Kurt pointed to a gravel road through the woods.

''Hmm, I think that's possible. I'm just afraid we might lose the network if we go into the woods. Well, it's worth a shot. Let's go.''

Phil backed up a little and pulled onto the road into the woods, turning on the fog light just in case. It was the only source of light in the impenetrable darkness, and the car seemed tiny against the towering trees. The road was not as smooth as he would have liked. Phil was getting a little nervous, not so much because they were going nowhere but for his car. A jeep would be more comfortable on such a road than his Mercedes.

Only ten minutes passed when a new mystery appeared before the friends. On a hill about twenty meters high, completely covered with grass and shrubs, the outlines of a very old tunnel were visible. The brick arch, faded and crumbling with plants sprouting from the cracked cement, suggested that the tunnel was decades old. It was as if no one needed it after construction, and it was forgotten. The width and height of it were sufficient for a car and even a truck to drive through.

''What? A tunnel?'' Kurt was surprised by such an artifact.

Phil parked the car and got out. Approaching the tunnel, he began examining it like a museum rarity.

''Well, what do you think, Phil?'' Kurt asked.

''This is strange. I've never seen anything like that. There are no inscriptions here. Nothing at all. But this tunnel leads south. If we go through it, maybe we can get past the closed section of the road, and it's a stone's throw to home,'' said Phil and got back into the car.

''Are you sure?''

''Honestly... no. Heh, alright, let's go. We don't have much of a choice.''

Phil stepped on the gas, and the car moved into the impenetrable darkness of the tunnel. The smell of decay and dampness was everywhere. The ride improved because the tunnel gravel gave way to asphalt.

Several minutes after entering, the music from the radio began to change into various noises and interferences. Phil did not attach much importance to this and turned it off so as not to listen to this annoying hissing. In such remote and isolated places, signals always come through poorly.

It seemed like this tunnel was just endless. They did not encounter a single turn. About fifteen minutes passed, but there was no end in sight to this stone darkness. But what surprised them more was the sudden appearance of fog right in the tunnel. Phil even had to reduce speed to five kilometers per hour to not crash into anything.

The fog turned out to be completely ordinary. Nothing was interesting in it. Pale white, odorless, and so on. But several questions arise: "Why is this fog here?" "Where is it coming from?" and "Is there anybody?"

But the questions remained unanswered. And it doesn't matter to Kurt and Phil anymore. Soon, this white veil dispersed, and they finally reached the end of the tunnel.

''Phil, thank God we got out of that hell,'' Kurt sighed in relief.

''I told you we'll do,'' Phil replied, taking out his phone. ''I'll put a mark on the map again, and we'll go to my house. Wait a minute... hmm, that's weird.''

''What's wrong?''

''Um, what... It says, 'Unable to establish map coordinates. GPS navigator malfunction or lack of network.'''

''How is that possible?''

''I don't know, man. But we're still in Colorado, right?''

To be continued...