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William “Bill” Grey was born with no dreams of his own but with a rigid certainty—the certainty of joining the Cornerian Defense Force as soon as he became of age. Every Grey had enlisted for the last seven generations and his father was preparing him for the same path his forefathers had walked. It was the path of a soldier, the path of a hero.
The young pup scored the top of his class in elementary school—how could he not, when his father was adamant he pursue his studies before pursuing friendships? Every day was a dull routine of school then homework then extra studies then bed. Rinse and repeat. There was scarcely time for play except for the mandatory recess at school, where Bill was afforded a meager glimpse at a normal childhood away from studying. Such a brief respite, however, served almost to torment him more than help. He was not an unpopular classmate; in contrast, he found he could make friends quite easily. But his lack of freedom served only to make it difficult to maintain friendships. While the other kids were going out after school to see movies together, he was stuck with additional homework his father saw fit to assign him. And if the young pup whined about it, he was reprimanded.
“Movies and fiction will not prepare you for the reality of war, William!”
His father’s voice, so sharp and demanding, was loud enough to drown the pup’s wants away. Little Bill hung his head and continued onward until his paws hurt from writing and his mind was naught but a puddle of mush.
Carrying the burden of such a prestigious pedigree was no easy feat. Bill was expected to be top of his class and his parents’ expectations bled into his own. All work and no play saw the young pup’s emotions slip into a cycle of stoicism, rage, and sorrow. Though concerns were flagged from his teachers to the school counselors, nothing could be done without his parents’ permission. Friends began to keep their distance and Bill soon found his life to be soaked in the bitter cold of loneliness.
It all changed the day his class received a transfer student. Transfers into Corneria City public schools were not exactly uncommon—there were lots of job opportunities in the city, after all. Bill watched his teacher, a kindly goose lady by the name of Mrs. Frasier, walk their newest classmate up to the front. He was a fox kit, his fur a tawny gold under the sunlight that poured in from the nearby window. His green eyes danced about the room uncertainly. Bill took in his clothing—rough looking plaid and scuffed jeans with boots. Not typical wear for Corneria City citizens and the pup’s brows rose at that. The first thoughts Bill had about his new classmate were not particularly kind but maybe that was because life had not made Bill’s heart particularly kind.
“Class, I would like for you all to give a warm welcome to our newest addition – James McCloud ah… Jr, I believe,” Mrs. Frasier declared in her typical sunshine voice.
“You… you can call me Fox…” the young vulpine said.
“Oh? You prefer to be called ‘Fox’? Well, class, give a warm welcome to Fox!” Mrs. Frasier exclaimed. “Fox has come all the way from Papetoon! He’s very far from where he used to live so let’s do our best to make him feel at home!”
Papetoon – Bill had heard of that planet before. It was an arid, rugged place for the most part but the soil was rich in certain minerals that it was the only known place in the Lylat System where certain types of wheat could be grown. He had read that fact in a book his father had forced him to do an essay on. The book had discussed a food shortage during a war two hundred years ago where Papetoonian wheats had helped prevent galactic-wide mass starvation. Bill supposed that was why Fox’s outfit seemed so ragged and odd—he was not used to what they wore on Corneria or the climate difference.
“Fox, it looks like there’s an empty seat near Bill’s desk. Why don’t you sit over there?” Mrs. Frasier said and Bill’s ears perked as the young vulpine kit made his way apprehensively to the desk in question.
It was adjacent to Bill’s, an empty desk near the back of the room. Fox sat down at the desk next to Bill’s, setting his backpack aside and pulling out his belongings. Bill knew better than to let his eyes wander but he did so anyways, noting how the vulpine’s books were all in order, as well as some binders. He also pulled out a small plane figurine, setting it to the side on his desk. Bill knew its model at once—a Cornerian Mark I Doberman fighter. It had been flown most prominently during an event that became known as the Cornerian Civil War and was retired shortly thereafter.
Fox caught his stare and Bill redirected his gaze back towards where Mrs. Frasier was already starting to launch into their math lesson. Time dragged on as it did during school, and the bell soon rang for lunch. The class began to line up to go to the cafeteria. Bill pulled his premade lunch out of his backpack and noted that Fox had done the same. He rose from his chair, making his way to the line. Fox followed and they began down the hall en masse. By the time Bill made it to one of the cafeteria tables, he was distinctly aware that Fox was following him. As his sandwich came out of his lunchbox, Fox took a seat across from him.
“Erm… your name’s Bill, right?” Fox asked.
“Yeah,” Bill said.
“I’m Fox,” the kit offered a hand towards him and the pup looked him up and down warily before taking it. A brief handshake ensued then Bill hurried back to his sandwich. Smalltalk was not his forte and he was used to eating alone these days. His irritability had made it more difficult lately to maintain friendships to the point where he did not even want to bother with the hopeful vulpine in front of him. It just felt like wasted effort.
“So uh…” Fox began, fishing his own sandwich out of his lunchbox. “Do you like playing video games?”
“I’m not allowed to,” Bill said before taking a bite from his sandwich.
Fox frowned slightly. “How come?”
“My dad says they’re a waste of time.”
“But they’re fun.”
Bill blinked. What even was ‘fun’, anymore? He never got to do anything fun. The most fun he got to have was recess, when he could run the fields near the school. He could listen to the wind and he could stretch his legs. He could feel the sun and as he ran, he could imagine he was anything but Bill Grey. A ship gliding over Corneria, a bird with outstretched wings, a car zipping across the highway.
“He just doesn’t let me,” Bill said, ears back. “They interfere with my studies.”
“Huh?” Fox tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Well, I mean, I guess if ya play them too much. But my dad always tells me that it’s important to relax sometimes. If ya work all the time, you’ll have a scowl on ya face permanently.”
“A scowl?” Bill asked.
“Yeah. Like that thing on your face right now,” Fox smiled at him.
“Huh?” Bill asked, reaching up to touch his face.
But before he could question Fox further, there was a commotion at the other end of the cafeteria. Bill’s dark eyes darted to where three kids had gathered. One was a rhino, his chest puffed out. The other was a Great Dane, looming nearly as tall as his pachyderm counterpart. Bill winced—he knew that duo, they were infamous in the school for being a pair of bullies. Before them quivered a small green toad, his lunch tray spilled onto the ground. Bill also knew this kid—the newest victim of the school bullies, a kind and gentle boy named Slippy.
“What’s going on over there?” Fox asked.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Bill said. “Anyone who messes with those guys ends up in the dumpster. Or getting’ a swirlie in the bathroom.”
“They’re… being mean to that kid,” Fox realized, oblivious to Bill’s warning.
“They’re mean to everyone,” Bill said. “Should probably be glad it’s not you since you’re the—”
‘New kid’ were the words that were cut off as Bill watched Fox climb out of his chair. The pup’s ears went up in alarm as the vulpine made a beeline for where Slippy was trying not to cry over his spilled food. Bill told himself he should look away but instead, he found himself following Fox. His legs moved against his better judgement, eyes stretched out wide as he watched the kit confront the two bullies. The rhino shoved the small toad to the ground, Slippy’s knee smooshing into the spilled mashed potatoes and gravy. Slippy gave a cry and Bill’s heart raced as he looked from Fox to the bullies.
His father had always told him to stay out of trouble. Getting involved in something like this could look bad on his record. It could affect getting into the Flight Academy if he made a habit of getting into fights. And Bill had no doubt that was where this was headed.
“Hey!” Fox yelled at the bullies as the rhino stooped down to grab Slippy by his collar. “Stop being mean to him!”
“Who’re you?” the Great Dane sneered at him. “I don’t ever think I’ve seen YOU around here before!”
“My name’s Fox McCloud!” the kit declared. “And you’d better leave him alone or I’ll… I’ll kick your tail!”
Bill’s ears went back.
“You’ll do what?” the rhino dropped Slippy face-first into his own spilled food and rounded on Fox. “Huh, get a load of this punk! Got a lot of bark for a little fox!”
“He’ll have less bark after a bit of swimmin’ in the dump, whaddya say?” the Great Dane grinned down maliciously at the kit.
Fox bared his teeth, fur on end. His small hands turned to fists as the two bullies began towards him. Slippy, who had been sobbing softly, peeked his head up from the ground with eyes stretched wide in shock. Fox’s tail flitted back and forth.
“C’mon, two against two. We got this! Right, Bill?” Fox asked.
Bill looked at Fox as though he were insane, playing back all the times in his head that his father had told him to never get involved in anything like this. The pup shuffled a step back.
“Bill…?” Fox asked again but it was too late.
The rhino seized the kit by his shirt, pulling him upwards. Fox yelped and Bill felt his insides turn stone cold. His gaze trailed up to where Fox was lifted, a million thoughts playing out before the young pup’s mind. Bill thought of how guilty he felt; Fox did not deserve this. Slippy did not deserve this either. But what difference could he make? It would only get him in trouble and his father would be so angry… so, so angry…
As a fist was made to sock the vulpine straight in the snout, Bill’s heart flooded with dread. It was not right to let this happen, he knew. But he was scared—so scared. Fox’s cries mixed with the sinister chuckles of the two bullies, both sounds soon drowned out by the rapid thumping of young Bill’s heartbeat. The fear of disappointing his parents versus his heart was a vicious battle that took place in milliseconds. But it was ferocious and it rang down to his core. The young pup wallowed in that feeling for a moment that felt like forever. It was a storm and he was lost in it. His guilt consumed him but its weight did not bog him down. It lifted his chin, it set his eyes forward.
Bill blinked and in the span of that moment, he had tackled the rhino. Both he and the bully stumbled backwards into a tangled mess that ended up on the tile floor. His little fists pummeled into his opponent’s jaw without mercy, a flurry of strikes coming from an anger he had not realized he had been carrying for so long. A snarl tore from his mouth. He felt a hand on his shoulder and that was when he remembered the bully’s pal. Bill turned to throw a punch at him too but Fox beat him to it. The vulpine launched himself at the Great Dane and the two were soon engaged in their own fight. Bill turned back to the rhino in time to receive a blinding hit to his brow. A second came to his snout. A third was halted by Bill’s grip. The pup, tasting blood as it trickled down his muzzle, popped the rhino one last time in the eye.
And then a strong set of hands pulled him off of the bully’s stomach. Bill was lost in his own adrenaline for the next few seconds as the teachers pried the warring children apart. The world was a blur as voices screeched at him and he was sternly led down the hall. Dumbfounded and halfway in a haze, the pup was sat into a chair outside the principal’s office. That was when everything started to calm down around him. The reality of what was happening set in. Panicked, he looked to where Fox had been put next to him in another chair. The kit looked no worse for the wear, though he sported a bloody lip.
“You really knocked that guy to pieces!” Fox said, the warmth in his voice encouraging but Bill knew that he was about to get in so much trouble as soon as his father found out.
“I… I guess I did…” Bill managed out, surprised to hear himself chuckling. Though still tense, he could feel the shock begin to ebb away. It made him laugh, his nerves all wound together like a horrid knot of yarn. The pup let out a few more chuckles, shaking his head. Fox laughed too, a merry sort of sound that made Bill feel as though everything might possibly be okay.
“Well, maybe if they didn’t wanna get their heads knocked in, they would’ve been nice to that kid,” Fox said nonchalantly. The pup marveled at how matter-of-fact Fox sounded. It was as though he did not care at all about being sent to the principal’s office.
“I’m gonna be in a lot trouble when my parents find out,” Bill remarked.
“Why?”
“We just got into a fight! That’s… that’s not what good kids do.”
“So… you’re saying it was bad we helped that guy they were pushing around?”
“N-no, that’s not…”
“So we did a good thing!”
“What? I mean… I don’t… hey… Isn’t YOUR dad going to be upset?”
“Probably not. He told me that if I get into a fight, I better have a good reason and I think this one’s pretty good!”
“Ha… I wish my dad was like yours.”
“Just tell your parents the truth and it’ll be okay.”
Bill’s eyes fell to the ground, a sad smile on his face. He wished that were true.
The following few hours went exactly as the pup predicted. A stern lecture from the principal was had followed by a call to Bill’s father. A suspension was on the table but Bill’s father convinced the principal to waive it as Bill had been an exemplary student otherwise. Still, the pup was to be picked up from school that day and Bill knew that as soon as his dad was there, it was over.
The family’s car drove up to the school like an ebony-clad reaper waiting to harvest Bill’s earnest soul. Wordlessly, the pup got into it, sitting down in the backseat. His father was silent, a worse punishment than the yelling. As they drove away, Bill glued his eyes out the window, trying not to think too much about what was going to happen. What would they do now? Ban him from public school?
“And it was this new kid that told you to get into that fight?” his father asked.
The question stunned Bill.
“No,” came his honest reply.
“Mm,” his father said, not sounding entirely convinced. “He didn’t influence you to make that decision?”
Bill paused. “I guess he did.”
“Then you’re to stay away from him.”
Ordinarily, Bill would have agreed; Fox had gotten him into trouble and that implied the vulpine was a bit of a troublemaker. But on that day, those words thrummed through Bill’s body with dread and sorrow. He gave a small gasp, looking to the reflection of his father’s eyes in the rear view mirror.
“But Dad, I—”
“William.”
The pup fell quiet for a moment then remembered what Fox had told him before. Bill closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You always tell me that I need to join the Cornerian military because that’s the best way to help others. By protecting them. Well. Today, I was protecting Fox and Slippy.”
He saw his father frown. “That’s not what I meant by protecting others. You caused a stir today. People are disappointed. Attacking others willy-nilly—”
“Those were bullies and I’m not sorry for what I did!” Bill declared and he felt his father slam on the car brakes.
“William, I will not hear of this—”
“And I’m gonna talk to Fox again!” Bill continued, that anger from before rising in his chest. “And we’re gonna be friends. Because Fox is nice and I… I like him!”
“No, you will not!” Bill’s father began angrily.
“You don’t care about me; you only want me to be sad forever! I can’t make friends because I have to study all the time for your stupid tests and write stupid essays that don’t even matter!” Bill snapped. “I hate it! And I hate you!”
“I don’t want you to be sad, Bill—”
“But that’s all I ever am! Sad! And it’s your fault!”
In his youth, he did not understand the weight of his visceral words. But they made his father fall silent for the rest of the ride home. When Bill stepped inside their quiet house, he went straight to his room with tears welling up in his eyes. He lay on his bed and he cried, nose buried into his pillow. His face ached from being hit by the bully and his heart hurt from being forbidden to speak with Fox. Everything felt so miserable. His arms wrapped around his pillow, holding it close.
He could not have said how long he lay there. But soon enough, he heard a knock at the door and then it creaked open.
His father walked in wordlessly, carrying a small first aid kit. Bill sat upright, tears still wetting his cheeks. But his father said nothing of his sorry state, instead looking over his son’s face carefully. He fetched some ointment from the kit and dabbed it gently on his son’s brow.
“Your mother called,” his father said. “And I spoke with her about what happened.”
Bill said nothing.
“I do not agree with your decision. Nor do I condone the behavior of this… Fox McCloud,” continued his father with a sigh. “Yet I can allow that perhaps I have been… harsh with you. Unfairly so. You are a child, after all.”
The young pup’s eyes traveled to his dad’s, widened in surprise.
His father gave yet another sigh. “I do not want you to be unhappy, Bill. I don’t. I just want you to have a good future with a respectable career. Do you understand?”
Bill nodded, that hope in his eyes slowly extinguishing as he looked down.
“I suppose of all things to be sent to the principal’s office for, standing up for someone who needed help… is perhaps the least bad thing you could have done. I am not happy that this could be a stain on your record and I hope you know that you will have to work hard to clear your reputation in the eyes of the school teachers, William,” Bill’s father continued. “But I think you can. And I think…”
His voice faltered slightly before he cleared his throat.
“I think if you can prove to me that your grades will not slip and that you will pay attention in school… we can lessen some of the extra studying after school. But the moment your grades start to suffer or I receive another call from the principal…” Bill’s father said, voice brimming with a warning.
“Really…?” Bill asked, ears perked. “Does… does that mean I can go to the movies? With… with friends? And can I… can I buy some video games…?”
“Within reason,” his father said. “You’ve your mother to thank for this. She reminded me of a time when another young Grey pup managed to end up in the principal’s office after helping a girl who had been pushed into a puddle by… well… pushing the one who had been bullying her into the puddle himself…” Voice trailing, Bill’s father pinched the bridge of his snout in thought.
“Really?” Bill asked again.
“That is not to imply what you did was correct,” Bill’s father said gruffly. “Notifying a teacher was the right thing to do.”
“They never do anything,” Bill huffed.
“That’s beside the point. You cannot simply go hurting anyone that you disagree with!” Bill’s father reprimanded him. “And as long as that lesson is learned, I have no problem with you having more free time. But remember my warning, son.”
“Yes, Dad,” Bill said.
His father finished up with the first aid kit. He rose from Bill’s bedside and began towards the door.
“And stay away from that McCloud kid. I mean it. I feel like he’s a troublemaker,” Bill’s dad added before he left.
“Okay, Dad, will do,” Bill said but what his father did not see as he walked down the hall was the pup’s small, knowing smile and a pair of fingers crossed behind his back.