The heat seemed to rise from the ground, sweltering. Ceski started to regret his decision to lean against the building façade, especially in his silver embroidered black silk shirt. It was supposed to be a cooling shirt, he grumbled before catching his reflection in the adjacent window.

“Damn.”

He tilted his head back, admiring the way his hair, in a tight braid woven from the crown of his head, resting on his shoulder looked against the fine illustrations on his collar. The vivid beasts of ancient forgotten times, known only through records, were depicted roaming a familiar forest of stalactites. Their sharp claws and teeth glowed from the reflection of the light. He pulled at it, adjusting the shirt, and smoothing it out.

 “Ceski!” A cheerful voice bounded out the Mechanical Engineering building, hands full with workshop materials and some printed diagrams handed out at the orientation.

Ceski stood straighter, eyes flashing at his reflection before returning to the at ease position he’d decided on forty minutes ago.  Yes, this was more visually appealing.

Silas approached him, arms juggling the plethora of objects he’d collected in the ninety-minute class he’d just taken. It was only the first day and he’d already managed to accumulate a small hill of printed materials covered in very distinct blue scribbles.

“Done?” Ceski pulled off from the wall, silently grateful of finally separating form the heated bricks.

“Yeah, I only had one class for the day.” He caught a wavering pen from falling to the ground. “It was really fun,” pulling a slipping pad of paper that would have smashed on top of his food,” the professor said we’d do theory work for the majority of the first quarter, but we’re welcome to go to the workshop to try them out.”

“That’s good. At least that’s one thing less to worry about, yeah?”

After leaving the cooled building, Silas felt how sturdy his shop uniform felt on his body. The fabric stuck to his back, weighing down on his body. He understood why so many others, especially the seniors assisting in the orientation wore them as pants, the top tied around their waists.

It was hot this time of the year, on this star, the two suns dangling above their head exacerbating the already foreign freshmen’s arduous process of living in a new environment. Looking at the taller boy in front of him, with his nonchalant demeanor and the conviction, bravery, to wear black leather pants and leather boots, he could not help wondering about where they were born. Was their home star as hot as it was in this one, hence why he’d been so sure of himself this morning?

“Lala,” the other boy called him out of his daze, folding back his sleeves. “Did you bring your storage clip with you?” His teasing tone rolled over Silas, his cheeks heating up.

“Ah,” he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Ye-Yeah.”

“And you didn’t think to put all those things into it?”

“Oh,” Silas chuckled too himself, the blush on his face spreading dispersing to his ears and neck.

Ceski broke out into a grin, wondering if the flushed tint spread to the other’s shoulders. He reached out to take some of the things from Silas’ arms. The other boy jerked back, putting some distance between them.

“I-I, I can do it myself. No need to – no need to trouble you.”

“Okay,” Ceski stepped back, arms tucked into his back pockets, body leaning ever so slightly to the left with his long braid dangling between his shoulder blades. He watched his adamant dormmate try to turn on the space clip on his holo-band without disturbing the already wavering bundle in his arms.

They stood under the suns for a few minutes, just Silas stubbornly trying to turn on the clip only to grab at an almost tumbling object.

Beep.

“Day is already on her way to the cafeteria. She said she’ll pick up some food for us if we’re going to be a little late.”

Silas’ face turned a little green, trying to recall what the menu was for today. He almost let out a curse realizing that in this university, many things could be made to order even the cuisine from a distant rural star. His stomach dipping at the thought of what kind of food Day would probably pick for them, the colorful spread that existed only in his imagination made him tremble.

The look of panic was obvious to Ceski, the thought, though he was not especially privy to the other’s mind, was something he was all too familiar with. He turned on his own space clip, plucking a stack of papers from the other’s arms.

“No, I –,” Silas leapt forward, reaching to wrestle the stack out of his grasp.

Ceski quickly stuffed the stack into his space, catching the pencase that Silas had dropped in his panic. He put it away, again.

“Just ask me for it, later, yeah?”

“No, I can put it away now.”

Ceski looked back, having turned away to leave, at Silas. He watched the other’s emotions play out on his face – worry, shame, and diffidence. He had to bite his cheek to stop him from breaking out into a grin.

“Come on,” he’d nodded to the building in the distance,” if we let her pick what we eat we might not be able to attend any classes this week.”

Silas wanted to admit to himself that he didn’t know this pair well. They were practical strangers he’d just met incidentally at the start of university.  Sure, they shared a dorm. So, strangers tethered through incidental housing placements? They stomped into his life; a life he’d already charted to be as unimpressive as the rest of the days before. Standing here, looking at the male half of the pair, he could already tell this was going to be the start of a new path for him.

“Yeah,” he paused,” yeah. We should go or we might have to get new stomachs.”

That’s it. That’s all it took to break the mirrored façade; Ceski threw his head back with a roar. Silas pulled him along, a crooked smile replacing the bafflement he’d took to projecting earlier.

By the time they’d made it to the cafeteria building, Ceski and Silas caught their breaths. Ceski tugged at his collar, pulling some stray hairs away from his face. Beside him, Silas clutched his knees, back arched, and trying to open his lungs to ease some of his fatigue.

Rolling his shoulders, Ceski put his hand on Silas’ back pushing him along as they entered the cooled space. “Let’s go,” he urged, putting more power in his arm.

“Here!”

Just as they made it past the doorway, a pink blob rose above the sea of silver, navy, and violet. They didn’t need to worry about looking for her, she was a miniature flamingo among a soar of eagles. The two boys stopped, stunned, realizing what kind of decision Day made that morning. Twisting around, their eyes met before they both broke out in large grins.

“Dusk,” Silas called out to her, unprompted.

Day stood up straighter, halting mid squeal of recognition. Like a flash of inspiration, she’d barreled at slouched boy. “OH MY GOD!” She flailed before him, hair wilding around her face. “CESKI! CESKI! I GOT A NICKNAME!”

Ceski folded his arms, hip resting against the table his cousin had occupied for them. “Mhm, so you did.” He stopped himself from smiling back as he watched his cousin’s teasing smiles. She had her hand on Silas, pulling him to an empty seat.

“Did you get a nickname?”

“No, not yet.”

Her smile grew broader,” Oh, Lila.” She patted the empty seat beside her. “Come sit, sit.”

Silas wavered, glancing at the packed line of students on the west side of the building, and the empty area across it. If he’d chose to sit down, he might have to make the ultimate sacrifice: visiting one of the diplomatic kiosks for some of the shunned meals. It had only been two semesters since the university had tried to integrate inter-galactic studies and exchange into the daily lives of all its campus living creatures. In that time, though, the diplomatic buffet tables had spread all over the holoscape, earning the school the title of the reviled menu in their star-region. It was the stuff of horrors, and from what had been shared to him, Silas had no interest in becoming embedded in such an urban legend. He would not be another victim of meal-time tardiness.

Steeling himself, he patted Day’s arm: “I’ll just go get us some food, okay?”

The girl shook her head, the beads woven into her hair rattled against each other. “It's okay. Someone's got it covered. You can see if that’s enough and just get some more later.”

Before anyone could interject, she smiled up at her cousin and his dormmate,” I heard that the diplomatic tables never run out, here.”

Silas gulped, swallowing the retort he’d started writing in his head. Maybe he could tell her about the legend? Undecided, he looked to the only person he believed knew Day best, meeting his eyes. Ceski shook his head as he sat across from his cousin.

“So,” Ceski eased in,” what did you get?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Nate told me to leave it to him.”

“Nate?”

“Yeah, we had class together.”

“It’s great you’re making friends, Day,” Silas swept off some of the felled glitter from his seat beside her.

“We’re not friends,” a gruff voice cut in sharply.

“Not yet,” Day beamed up at the crisply dressed classmate, his stiff figure disrupted only by the three trays he balanced in his arms. He didn’t even look at her too-bright smile, simply placing the food down and sitting, on the only empty seat, next to Ceski.

Ceski and Silas could not help sitting up straighter. Nate, who seemed to be the taciturn last member of their dorm, was the very vision of a normal Mech Fighter from Tryghyrr. His hair was set in cement, swooping away from his face, his uniform was a delicately folded board, while his boots were dark mirrors bouncing light onto Day’s sparking blush outfit.

“Wait,” Ceski could not help pinching his brows,” you guys are seatmates?”

“Mhm,” Day sang as she started making Silas a plate from the different dishes her new buddy had brought over.

“Yes, she,” Nate spoke sharply,” sat next to me at orientation.”

“Like, right next to you?”

“Tragically.”

“Tsk,” Ceski turned to the taller, wider boy next to him. His violet eyes filled with understanding. His cousin was a beast, a mischievous rotten selfish beast. He leaned over, whispering: “I pray for your luck and safety, brother.” Anyone who had to live with his beloved little beast of a cousin was a brother, sharing tears, and the occasional, blood.