“Well,” Sofia said. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natalie muttered.

“We’ve already determined we’d be moving in together. So while unpleasant, it’s hardly something we weren’t prepared for.”

Their future as a potential team hadn’t been the only thing Jordan had prompted the three of them to talk about on their way to Tenet. The token system, too, they’d discussed … or more accurately, pooling their resources to get out of the barracks. They intended to move in together.

Natalie supposed she was fortunate the Tenet campus didn’t function on ‘real currency’, and that just about everything—including niceties, and delving loot both, or anything else—functioned on their proprietary ‘tokens’. Because it meant she wasn’t behind the rest of the campus when it came to finances. They were all starting on even footing.

Which, Natalie had to assume was a bit of a shock to some of them, who’d grown up with silver spoons and droves of servants.

“That would’ve been when we had our own rooms,” Natalie said. “I was supposed to be free from you, in the barracks.”

The one redeeming quality of their starting accommodations.

“Hm,” Sofia said. “Yes. Well. We can’t always get what we want.” She returned to unpacking.

Natalie took the hint; they could ignore each other. If they managed that, then maybe this wouldn’t be the torture Natalie thought it would be.

As she went about the monotonous task of unpacking, she stole glances—subtly, as to not be caught staring—at the rest of her so-called roommates. Barracks-mates?

Despite the number of beds, less than half—maybe around a third—had their occupant nearby. Most people had come in, unpacked, then left to handle the rest of their in-processing duties, or otherwise to explore campus, shower, eat, or whatever else.

It was a colorful collection of people. Not only did Tenet draw applicants from all across the country—and plenty from neighboring, allied countries too—but fashion this far north was different from what Natalie knew. Or maybe that was the fault of Natalie’s upbringing in a rural area.

Either way, dyed hair hadn’t been common back home, as it was here. The girls with neon shades—pink, blue, green, violet—weren’t the majority, but maybe a third had the bright, eye-catching colors. Several had mixtures of the bright hues. Some only had streaks, rather than dying themselves entirely.

Natalie was a fan. Of the hair, at least. Not much the rest of typical northern Valhaurian fashion, which was, like the hair, bright and attention grabbing … but too much so.

A few girls in particular, Natalie’s attention gravitated to. She continued to unpack, stealing glances. Some of them might be future classmates, and were, at a minimum, competition … or potential delving teammates. Tenet’s years were too large to know everyone individually, but making connections would be important. Natalie didn’t intend to seclude herself.

The first girl Natalie’s eyes stuck to had short black hair down to her shoulders, streaked with a single bright, noticeable lock of blue. She was talking animatedly with someone else—a blonde woman wearing her hair in a ponytail, who was a tenth as animated as her talking partner. She seemed to be tolerating the conversation. Her responses, from Natalie’s subtle glances, seemed to be polite smiles and minimal prompts. The two girls were three beds to Natalie’s left, and on the opposite side of the hall.

Another woman caught her eye: someone whose Natalie’s attention stuck to because of her amused expression. She was leaned against her locker, arms crossed, and watching the conversation of the two girls Natalie had just looked at. She had long, straight red hair—a bit lighter than Natalie’s own red hair—and piercing green eyes.

There was something rude about her quirked eyebrow … as if she’d noticed the blonde woman’s lack of enthusiasm and was smirking at how the girl with the blue streak hadn’t picked it up, and had thus trapped the two of them into a one-sided conversation.

Natalie frowned. The smirk reminded her of Sofia. Though, for all Sofia was smug and annoying, she wouldn’t look at someone trying to make a friend with curled, amused lips. Natalie didn’t like her, whoever she was. Though maybe she was making too many assumption about a vaguely amused smirk. Maybe she was making too many assumptions about everything—the blonde girl, in particular, who could be enjoying the conversation. Hell, maybe the two girls talking knew each other, and were friends already.

Natalie continued to look around. Her attention snagged to a girl seated on the last bed, on the far end of the hall. She was seated cross-legged, scanning the room … but unlike Natalie, with no subtlety. Natalie couldn’t get a good look, or she’d be caught—the girl was watching the room like a hawk.

But even a glance was enough to make out the basics. The girl had short black hair, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Her face was scarred, and not in any small way … even from the distance, Natalie saw the patchwork of white scratches. Her bangs cascaded down her face, almost hiding her eyes.

Something about her posture said ‘harried’ … like she didn’t want to be here. Or maybe not ‘here’, as in Tenet, but in a public living space, definitely. She was uncomfortable with people. Natalie didn’t know the girl—obviously—but she could discern that with a quick look. Anyone could. Tenet’s required living conditions sat worse with others than some … and for this black-haired girl, she was on the top of that list.

So. Like Natalie said. A colorful collection of people, as expected of Tenet; considering their prestigious requirements, almost everyone had an interesting story, she bet. It wasn’t enough just to be rich to make it here. Though … there was a limit to that statement, probably. She was sure the obscenely wealthy found ways to sneak in unfitting candidates. But it didn’t really matter. The skilled were who would be recognized.

Natalie wondered if, after unpacking, she ought to wander the hall and get some names, make introductions. But she still had a lot of in-processing tasks to handle, so maybe not. Get the practical stuff done, first.