Chapter Text
"A dozen carrots." Judy, with a thousand-yard stare, handed the carrots to the customer. The paper bag crinkled in her grip before she gave it to the rabbit with her daughter. Rabbits, she thought. Well, what else does this town offer other than rabbits, hares, deer, badgers, ferrets and foxes?
"Thanks!" The customer left her with a smile, and Judy only wished them a nice day. She watched them walking away, staring at the blank space. Her breath was uneven and heavy, as dense as the ceaseless cars passed by the stall.
Bunnyburrow was a nice place—open and quiet, far from the metropolis. It had everything every animal wished for. Slow traffic, connection with nature, caring community, and she could sleep all day without any neighbours picking on her. However, she was not built for that standard. She misses urban living with its cityscapes, diversity, hustle, and career, and... someone. She sighed and continued reading the newspaper.
Growing unrest divides city
"Come on." A voice was approaching the stall.
"Hey there, Jude-- Jude the dude, remember that one? How we doin'?" Another familiar voice tried to ease the air around his daughter.
"I'm fine," Judy said, keeping her fixated on the paper and paying her parents no attention. Although the news was all gloomy, she couldn't stop reading, hoping there were some answers to her discomfort.
"You are not fine." Bonnie focused on Judy's ears and continued, "Your ears are droopy."
She sighed, "Why did I think I could make a difference?" She muttered with a flat tone, clearly uninterested.
It had been three months since she cracked the case and gave up her badge from the force, but there were still some pieces lingering in her mind. The mammal was saved, but it came at the cost of peace between predator and prey. Changing the world had been her dream since she was young, but she never meant it to happen this way. There was no turning back now. Nothing could fix the damage she had made.
"Because you're a trier, that's why," Stu replied.
"You've always been a trier." Bonnie tried to cheer her up, but it was pointless. Judy wasn't a shell waiting to be cracked open.
"Oh, I tried. And it made my life so much worse for so many innocent predators," She replied, her tone laced with sarcasm.
She had tried all sorts of things to achieve what she wanted. Not everything worked out in her way, but she had handled it well. Bullying, police academy and continuous doubt, but again, she felt her life crumbled into dust and was eating her up slowly this time. She felt the same sharpness from 15 years ago when her parents didn't believe in her. Her peers laughed at her ambition. Those words came back as a truth she refused to face. They all were right about one thing: she was a dumb bunny. A bunny can't change the world, and only a fool would ever think they could.
A van horn blared, making all of them turn their attention towards the noise.
"Oh, not all of them, though. Speak of the devil. Right on time," Stu shot back, face alight with excitement.
Judy looked towards the van, clearly uninterested. Huge tyres howled and a bulky van with familiar signs—GIDEON GREY’S GOOD BAKED STUFF... With Fresh Produce From Hopps Family Farms—plastered on its side, pulled up in front of them. A fox unfolded himself from the delivery van to the trunk.
"Is that... Gideon Grey?" Judy froze, and her ears perked up, looking at the very sight in front of her. That Gideon Grey?
"Yep. It sure is. We work with him now."
"He’s our partner. And we never would have considered it had you not opened our minds." Bonnie remarked. She remembers Judy's words all too well about him, to look past an animal's predatory genes because he was just a jerk who happened to be a fox. Her advice gave a new perspective to Bonnie and Stu. They dismissed their prejudice toward the predator and reached out to Gideon.
She remembered vividly the day after they almost crashed into Gideon after saving Binky, they decided to show up at Gideon's home; he left no room for them to talk and kept on apologising to them. It felt so genuine yet warm, so when they learnt Gideon was running a bakery business, they offered a partnership deal between their farms and his bakery.
"That’s right. I mean, Gid’s turned into one of the top pastry chefs in the tri-burrows." Stu's gaze averted to Gideon at the back of the van. There was contentment in his voice and a proud look written all over his face.
"That’s really cool, you guys," Judy said. She couldn't help but feel awe settle in her.
Judy fell into steps and took herself out of the stall slowly. She didn't break her gaze from Gideon as her feet pounded against the ground. It's becoming clearer as their gap is getting smaller with each step she takes. Plump figure and red fur made him stand out among the grey-furred rabbits here. His tail tip was deep red-brown, reminding her of Nick.
Judy grabbed the barn doors. "Gideon Grey..."
He moves and his eyes snap down to see Judy standing in front of him.
"I'll be darned." She continued.
His hand eased away from the pies, and nervous energy evaporated off him. There was wild desperation in his eyes. Like he was swallowing down the words and refusing to spill from his lips.
“Hey, Judy-, I-I'd just like to say I'm sorry for the way I-I-I behaved in my youth. I-I had a lot of self-doubt, and it manifested itself in the form of unchecked rage and aggression. I was a major jerk.” His words fell into stutters. He bowed his head and let out an unsteady breath. It was clear that he was ashamed of his past misdeeds.
Judy's expression was unreadable, but her eyes looked into his and she shrugged. "Well, I know a thing or two about being a jerk..."
They stood beneath the sun's warmth. She didn't move. She looked at his face, the way it filled with awe. He smiled without smiling. Eyes, flat and unblinking, met her. She felt the air go thin and noise fell away. For a second, in the day settled into its evening hours, he looked as if time had reshaped him into someone new.
"Anyhow- I brought you all these pies."
They make amends right then and there. Her eyes softened; a wave of astonishment washed over her, and her lips pulled taut in a wide, genuine smile. She knew that underneath his old self—vile and untrustworthy—he was becoming genuinely apologetic and courteous. Gideon has changed for good, she thought.
Maybe it was the smell of fresh pies that made all the kids on the field bee-lining for it. They broke the gaze to watch the kids tearing across the field, almost stepping over large, bear cup-shaped flowers in violet. Before they could trample it, Stu warned them. "Hey, kids! Don’t you run through that Midnicampum Holicithias!"
"Now there’s a 4-dollar word, Mr H." Gideon snorted. "My family always just called them night howlers."
Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly, unsure if her ears had betrayed her.
"I’m sorry, what did you say?" She searched his face, needing confirmation. She heard Gideon's words clearly despite his crisp voice and stutters, but she needed to confirm what she had just heard.
"Oh, Gid’s talking about those flowers, Judy." Stu gestures to the flowers growing on the edge of the crops, "I use ‘em to keep bugs off the produce, but I don’t like the little ones going near ‘em on account of what happened to your Uncle Terry."
Bonnie and Stu started sharing an old story about how her uncle went nuts and bit Bonnie after he ate one whole while they were kids. Judy froze in place. She frantically rattles off what she had missed and collected. "A bunny can go savage..."
Her parents tease the savage word, but Judy ignored it as she kept on piecing it together. Then a realisation hit.
"Night howlers aren’t wolves, they’re flowers, the flowers are making the predators go savage." Her voice turned shrill. "That’s it! That’s what I’ve been missing!" She squeaked in excitement. Night howlers: they are capable of turning any mammal, including rabbits, aggressive. If they've been exposed to the "night howlers", anyone can go savage.
Judy spun and raced to the truck, but turned back halfway.
Her steps slowed. "Oh, keys! Keys! Keys! Keys! Hurry! Come on!" She hurries her parents. Desperation overwhelmed her in every leap of wait.
"You sure the truck fast enough?" Stu asked while hurriedly putting his hand in his pocket. His paw slid and found a small, steel key deep inside.
"Do I have another choice here?" She scoffed with outstretched arms. Her parents' blue truck was the only option here. Though it might be moving 40 miles per hour slower than the average truck, she could have made it right in time.
"You can use my van." Gideon, who had been awkwardly quiet, abruptly gave an idea. He remained still while watching his partner's family commotion beforehand. Judy's lips curled up to her ears when she caught the offer and ran to his van.
"Let's go!"
"W-what?" He shook his head. "W-why I-I-I, do I need to tag along?" His words came out scattered and stammered.
"It's your van, and I think you are a better driver than I am." She replied.
"I need to deliver the pies!" He cried.
"Leave it to my father."
Gideon looked to Stu and Bonnie, hoping for a refusal but they gave a full thumbs up and shoved him into the van instead. He tried to flee, but Stu stopped him at the driver's seat and shushed his mouth. "You can never win against her," Stu murmured and loaded the pies from Gideon's van.
Gideon moves his head to his right. Dumbfounded by the sight he was looking at right now. Judy Hopps was in his van right now, and she looked weirdly excited, but a hint of bitterness was hidden beneath it. He shook his head and pressed the clutch and pulled the gear. The van blew out white smoke before driving away from the scene.
"You catch any of that, Bon?" Stu asked his wife.
"Not one bit."
The ride was smooth, accompanied by slow music playing from the radio. Broken road and damp wood were their roadside attractions. There wasn't much to see on this highway; The ride felt long or perhaps it was the tension riding along with them. He let the car drive him until he caught sight of the signboard on his left: “You are now leaving Bunnyburrow."
He cleared his throat and fixed his posture. Sweaty paw and blurry mind trapped him as he steered the van out of the farmland. He knew Judy's destination was nowhere near Bunnyburrow, but now he was at wits' end. Pies and pastries were his peak, but hailing? Well, it's more like giving a ride than a side gig.
"S-so, where are we going?" Gideon asked, not sure, not loud enough to reach Judy.
Knowing his question was being ignored, his gaze wavered to Judy that engulfed in her thoughts. Her feet were pounding and her teeth gritting to each other. She did that a lot when she was nervous. Her mind went dazzled until she realised a voice interrupted her thoughts of lowways and highways. Gideon was looking at her through the gleaming light, fur screwed up around his blue eyes. His eyes were as blue as sky, prowling clouds in a morning mist. He waved his arm around her. "Judy, where are we going?"
"I'm not sure." Her feet won't stop tapping the floor. "I need to clear things up with Nick, but I don't know where he lives." She thrust her paw forward, inching closer. Her eyes curled up to tears but she held them back.
"Have you given him a call?" He replied, not taking his eyes off the road.
"I... I don't know his number." She sniffed, leaning back in her seat. Judy couldn't think of a single thing about Nick. They could arrive at Zootopia any time by now, yet her mind raced for a solution but came up empty-handed.
"How about anyone—"
"Finnick!" She yelled.
"W-W-What.. Who is F-Finnick?"
"He is a friend of Nick, and I used to see them hustling at... Sahara Square." She burst out, snapping her finger as the realisation hit.
He glanced back and answered evenly, "Sahara Square? I can do that,"—His eyes squinted—"wait, hustling?" He slammed on the brakes, causing them to almost plunge forward; They jolted along with the car. Fortunately, no cars were tailing from behind; Their surrounding were empty and quiet. He straightened out and looked at her.
Judy nodded immediately without any explanation. She left many questions unanswered with every blink.
"Mmm... You didn't understand, right?" She faltered.
He turned the car key to and fro, and the van roared into life, ready to go. "What's your deal with the Nick anyway?"
He rested his head on the steering wheel. His reddish-orange fur shimmered in the sunlight, while his thick underfur slipped between his cream muzzle.
Judy blinked, as if pulling herself out of a daze. She looked at him, then back at her paw, her foot tapping a nervous rhythm against the floorboards. Judy ripped her lips apart to say something, but instead of words, she took a deep breath and let the silence once again lead their conversation.
"Y-You don't need to answer it if you're uncomfortable." He shot back. He noticed the uneasiness in Judy.
"No, you give me a ride," she raised a hand slightly. "You can know."
She breathed out.
"To put it briefly, Nick is a con-artist who has been helping me with a missing mammal case."
"W-what? Con-artist?" He stammered. His foot pressed gently to accelerate and let the van roll steadily forward.
She nodded before continuing, "Then we did solve the case, but turned out the night howlers are flowers that make them savage."
"So to fix it, we need to search Nick?"
"Yes, but on the other hand... I said something I shouldn't supposed to say"—She breathed in—" and that made him hate me. And I need to apologise to him."
Her nose twitched. She was on the verge of crying.
The air went awkward. The rabbit opposite was drowning in sorrow, and he was left dazed and bewildered. His arm stretched to the dashboard, grabbing every corner while keeping his eyes straight. He stopped until his skin met a soft, thin tissue paper.
"Here." He handed it to Judy.
She reached for the tissue in his paw. Her finger brushed his, sending a sudden jolt of warmth through her skin. She pulled back her hand quickly.
"Thanks." She sniffed, her voice strange and slow like it was whispered through trees. Judy had never been this flustered before, well if she excluded her time at Naturalist Club.
Judy turned back to Gideon. His eyes were still on her and caught her looking, smiling at the light stubble on his muzzle. He shifted his attention back to driving, rubbing his fingers together as his hand guided the steering on the hard turn. Small, a tiny firework bursting in his head. Judy was still watching him.
"You... not curious what I said to him?" She asked, changing the subject.
"No." Gideon shook his head. "You realised your mistake by now, so it means you acknowledge it and are trying to fix it by searching for him. It's your personal matter. And you probably didn't feel comfortable sharing it with a stranger."
Judy was awestruck. But not only for the words he said, but for his maturity.
Gideon was his bully, but he wasn't anymore. He wasn't involved in her life majorly since the incident, but she and Gideon went to the same high school until graduation. They were in different classes and buildings, so she didn't know him really well. Judy guessed he turned out to be what he lived up to when they were kids because there was a time when she heard Gideon had been called to the principal's office because of an assault. And there was a time she caught him looking, like simmering in heaviness, at her. She was wrong about him; He grew into a sensible and composed person. People tend to be different when growing up, but she never expected that for Gideon.
She caught herself smiling at that thought, and just as she was trying to read Gideon again, her eyes caught on a green sign outside, flying over the windshield.
"The sign said Rainforest district, we are near," She said. "Have you ever wondered why the distance between the bridge and the train is so far?" She remarked, as the question was only to lighten the mood inside.
Gideon chuckled and shrugged.
"You're not a stranger, by the way." She murmured. Not loud. Only for her to hear.
Sun gleamed through the gap between the trees, and he drove the van over the dripping leaves and wet roads. The foggy air filled their nose. A mix of damp and soil makes odours more potent inside the van. His tyres screeched over the slippery roads in every turn he took.
A few minutes passed, and the van brought them to Tundratown. It was a short trip since they took a shortcut to arrive faster at Sahara Square.
It wasn't long before they saw a signboard welcoming them to Sahara Square. The air was parched. Their throat squinched in thirst. It was the opposite of Tundratown. Gideon reached for his door, cracking both windows on his right and left. Now the gust of hot air started to blow again under their skins.
"Where does this Finnick guy live?" He asked.
"I don't know, but we can search him in every alley. He must've parked his van somewhere around it." She was doing it again, tapping her foot.
"He lives in a van?" He asked as his eyebrows clenched closer.
"Maybe not or yes, but that's our only lead now," she said.
Judy descried a familiar-looking van. She tapped him, pointing at the alley at the end of the road. He nodded right away. His side gig was done; he's a dog now. Looking for Judy's friend in every nook and cranny. He gently pressed the gas while looking carefully at the dark alley.
None. Just a large blue dumpster decorating the corner.
"Dead end?" Gideon asked.
"Just keep going," she said.
"No, this is a dead end. We need to turn around," Gideon decided, pushing his foot against the clutch. The van slowed, and he turned the wheel fully left. They continue searching again. She cupped her hand around her eyes so she could look out the front window.
"Judy, we will find him," he muttered.
Judy flashed a bitter smile. She was walking on air when she finally solve the entangled discomfort inside of her. Now, dullness wrapped her once again, troubling her mind as her she staring out the front.
Nick
The van stopped.
Gideon pressed the brake as the traffic light turned red. He leaned back to his seat, watching a few cars speeding down in front of him. A blue sedan, a black jeep and a white van. Wait. He sat straight.
"Judy." Gideon called her out. Judy, who was resting her arms in the window, glanced her way. Her ears perked up when she heard his voice saying her name.
"What does his van look like?" He asked.
Her eyes widened. Then, she broke into laughter like a bubbling brook. Her laugh was soft yet loud. She took a long breath before laughing again. Gideon couldn't help but chuckle watching her. The van was now filled with buzzing energy, and they somehow felt more connected in every laugh they shared.
"O-Okay, I'm sorry about"—she choked—"that. It was Loboz Z1. Old with reddish-brown paint like..." She pointed her finger at him. "Your fur."
She continued. "It got a metal door on the driver's side and some artwork on both sides like... That!" Judy shook his shoulder, and her finger pointed at a van parked in few feet between them. Gideon followed where her finger brought him and stopped at it. He was not mistaken.
He slammed the clutch and readied his hand on the gear. As soon as the light turned green, the car roared and sped up to the alley.
A loud screech squealed to their ears when he stopped in front of the van.
"This is it," Judy said.
Judy opened the door. Her foot tapped down on the ground, her leg arching up from sitting too long on a single long trip. Judy's face rearranged, her relief obvious even through the darkness trapping her. Gideon studied her from the moment she left the van until her standing in front of the red van.
One, two, three, four and five. It took her five knocks until she heard a quick step approaching from inside.
"Who is it?" came Finnick's voice. Baseball bat in his hand, his face tensed up. But dropped down when his eyes glanced down.
"I need to find Nick. Please." Judy begged, arching her palms together at the chest level. A small downturned pout, with mournful eyes, gazing at him.