From that day forward, it was as if York and Judy were bound by some strange twist of fate.
Whether in middle school or high school, they always ended up in the same class.
To everyone else, they were childhood sweethearts, the ultimate bunny-dog couple.
But York never saw it that way.
He simply couldn’t muster any romantic feelings for a rabbit.
And on top of that, she was incredibly annoying.
Every time York got into trouble, she’d run straight to his parents and tattle on him.
As a result, York had endured more than his fair share of “discipline”.
Finally, high school graduation came and went.
Judy got into the police academy, just as she’d always wanted, and Linda was accepted into a respectable university.
York, however, chose a different path altogether, he had no intention of going to college.
He knew all too well that his family couldn’t afford to put two kids through university at the same time.
Instead, York planned to head straight to Zootopia after graduation.
As a transmigrator, he was determined to see what this world had to offer.
But when his parents caught wind of his plan, they shut it down immediately.
He’d just turned eighteen.
There was no way they were letting him strike out on his own in a big city like Zootopia.
They’d much rather he stay home, take over the family farm someday, settle down, find a nice girl, and give them a couple of chubby Husky grandchildren to dote on.
So York was grounded.
But that wasn’t about to stop him.
He’d prepared ahead of time, convincing Gideon to buy a train ticket for him in advance.
Yes, that Gideon, the fox who used to terrorize the smaller animals around town.
But after years of York’s patient “re-education,” he’d become York’s loyal right-hand fox.
Whenever York was up to no good, Gideon was right there beside him.
On a dark, moonless night, while his parents were sound asleep, York made his move.
He slung on his pre-packed backpack, slipped out his bedroom window, and dropped three meters to the ground with a soft thud, landing as quietly as a shadow.
On the road beyond the wall, Gideon waited nervously beside his family’s beat-up old three-wheeled scooter.
The moment he spotted York, Gideon waved frantically and whispered in a tense, urgent voice: “Hey!
York!
Over here, quick!” York glanced back at his parents’ dark bedroom window, his heart hammering.
When he saw no lights flicker on, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
He dashed over to Gideon in three quick strides, tossed his backpack into the cargo bed, and demanded in a low voice: “What time’s the train?” “Five in the morning!” Gideon answered while fumbling to start the sputtering engine.
“Five?!” York’s eyes went wide, his voice jumping an octave despite himself.
“It’s already four-twenty!
It’ll take at least an hour to get to the station.
Are you sure we’re gonna make it?” “Relax,” Gideon said, flashing a cocky grin and jabbing a thumb at his own chest.
“You gotta trust my driving, York.” With no other choice, York climbed into the cargo bed.
Before he could even get settled, Gideon twisted the throttle.
The old scooter let out a throaty roar and shot forward like a startled beast, tearing into the thick darkness.
The sudden jolt nearly threw York clean off.
He scrambled to grab the handrail, clinging on for dear life.
“Gideon!
Are you trying to kill me?!” York shouted over the roaring wind, his voice ragged.
“No time to waste, York!
Hold tight!” The scooter lurched faster.
York crouched low, white-knuckled against the rail, praying they wouldn’t hit a pothole.
Miraculously, they made it without a single mishap.
York arrived at the station a full five minutes early.
He vaulted off the scooter, barely pausing to yell a thanks over his shoulder, snatched his backpack, and sprinted for the ticket gates.
He swiped his ticket, shoved through, and burst onto the platform in one fluid motion.
Just as he was about to step onto the train, Gideon’s voice boomed from behind: “Hey!
York!” York spun around.
Through the crowd, he saw Gideon cupping his hands around his muzzle, shouting at the top of his lungs: “When you make it big in Zootopia, don’t forget to call your buddy over to share the good life!” “You know it!” York shot back, flashing a grin and an “OK” sign.
Then he turned and plunged into the crowded station.
“*Passengers, please take note: the train to Zootopia is now departing.
Passengers who have not yet boarded, please hurry…*” The automated announcement echoed through the platform.
York’s heart leapt into his throat.
He broke into a desperate sprint toward the train.
But he was too slow.
The doors were already groaning shut.
“Wait!
Wait!
I haven’t gotten on yet!” In sheer desperation, York threw all dignity aside.
He dropped to all fours and launched himself forward with every ounce of strength in his body, hurtling toward the shrinking gap like a madman.
Never in his life had he run so fast.
Like a lion hurtling through a flaming hoop, at the very last possible instant before the doors sealed, York flung himself through the gap.
WHAM!
He crashed onto the floor of the train car in a graceless heap, the impact jarring every bone in his body.
“Ahem…” Under the curious stares of nearby passengers, York scrambled to his feet with as much composure as he could muster, brushing dust off his clothes and pretending nothing had happened.
He began scanning for his seat.
“13A…
Small Mammal Cart 4…
this one.” His seat was by the window.
Beside it sat an elegant red fox lady.
She wore a sharp black trench coat, and a delicate pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on her refined muzzle.
She looked young, with an air of quiet sophistication and gentle grace about her, the kind of poise that spoke of good breeding and ease.
As York approached, she set down her newspaper and offered a warm, knowing smile.
“My, that was cutting it close.
A split second later, and you’d have been waving goodbye to this train from the platform.” “Yeah,” York said, scratching the back of his head with an embarrassed laugh as he slid into the seat beside her.
His heart was still pounding.
‘That idiot Gideon.
Couldn’t he have come a little earlier?’ Sinking into the plush seat, York wiped the sweat from his brow and let out a long, shaky breath.
He’d done it.
His escape to Zootopia, mission accomplished.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine the expressions on his parents’ and Linda’s faces when they woke up and found his room empty.
But he’d left a note.
They’d see it soon enough.
They were probably going to be livid.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t come all the way to Zootopia to drag him back by the ear.
His stomach growled, sharp and loud, cutting through his thoughts.
He unzipped his backpack to dig out some snacks, and froze.
His cash was gone.
The entire stack of money he’d saved as his startup fund for Zootopia, vanished.
“???” ‘Wait.
Where the hell is my money?’ Panic rising, York frantically rifled through every pocket and compartment.
No cash.
But his fingers brushed against something unfamiliar, a folded piece of paper.
York knew for a fact he’d never put anything like that in his bag.
Curious, he pulled it out and unfolded it.
A bank card slipped out and landed in his lap.
It was a Lemming Brothers Bank card, printed with the bank’s cute little mascot, a lemming in a dapper business suit.
He tucked the card safely back into his bag and turned his attention to the paper itself.
There was handwriting on it.
“*You little rascal.
I knew you wouldn’t give up on going to Zootopia.
Carrying a wad of cash around is just asking for trouble.
I’ve put everything into this bank card for you.
The PIN is your birthday.
When the money runs out, come home.
Just remember to save enough for the ticket back.
Mom and Dad love you forever.*” York’s fingers trembled as he held the note.
His vision blurred at the edges.
His throat tightened.
He had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from spilling over.