Mari doesn't fall for the beastfolk boy because of fantasy worldbuilding or cute animal ears. She falls for him because he shows up, stays steady when everything around them pushes back, and actually listens. The show knows the difference between romance and infatuation, and it spends twelve episodes proving it. Prejudice isn't a plot device here, it's the weight both of them carry, and watching them choose each other anyway, over and over, is what makes this land.
Mari's ordinary high school routine fractures the morning a beastfolk transfers into her class. He's not what she expected. While humans and beastfolk technically coexist in the same world, genuine integration remains rare, buried under generations of suspicion and discomfort. Mari feels that uncertainty too at first, caught between curiosity and the prejudices she's absorbed without thinking. But proximity changes everything. As they navigate shared classes and stolen moments between lessons, Mari discovers the person beneath the unfamiliar appearance. His quiet reliability becomes magnetic. His genuine kindness draws her in. What began as nervous fascination transforms into something deeper, more complicated, more real. Their connection tests invisible boundaries that run deeper than either of them anticipated. Romance blooms in the spaces between acceptance and resistance, challenging not just Mari but everyone around them to confront what they believe about belonging. Two people learning that love might be the only language that transcends the barriers built between worlds.