Now that they were in their room, the fear that had gripped them so tightly began to wear off—slowly, but noticeably.
The three of them—Heng, Number 2, and Number 3—took the beds nearest to the door on the right side. Sitting together on one bed, they scanned the room in silence. Toward the back, on the same side, three children occupied the last two beds. They, too, sat close, their eyes fixed on Heng's group. It was clear they knew each other—another group, the same size, perhaps forged in the same crucible of fear and uncertainty.
Across the room, the remaining four children sat alone, each claiming a bed on the left side, separated from each other by silence and distance. One bed on that side remained unoccupied—likely reserved for one of the children sitting with the back group. They didn't speak. Their eyes flitted toward the door, nervous, thoughtful, as if they, too, were silently calculating, preparing, or simply trying to understand where they were and what was going to happen next.
Everyone in the room wore identical black uniforms, matched for size. This meant they were all roughly the same height and build. Some were a bit skinnier, a little paler perhaps, but none looked strong or particularly distinct. They were all just… children. The group of three in the back drew Heng's attention. Brown hair, black hair, a hint of lighter brown. Nothing remarkable. Their faces, he thought, might be the only way to tell them apart—useful for nicknames, maybe. Otherwise, they all blended into the uniformity of fear and regulation.
One thing stood out, though—the beds. Heng and his friends had taken the ones closest to the door. And the door meant food. That put them in a favorable position, strategically speaking. If anything happened—food arriving, a guard entering—they would be the first to respond. The subtle advantage wasn't lost on Heng.
Silence lingered in the room, thick and expectant. Then, the three at the back leaned toward each other and began whispering. One even covered his mouth with a hand, murmuring something inaudible. Heng and his companions didn't try to listen. They had their own worries and schemes to think about.
"Well, we were lucky to still be together," Number 2 said softly.
"Agreed," Heng replied.
After a moment's pause, he added, "By the way, guys… it's hard to remember your names. What if we just go with nicknames?"
"Wut?" asked Number 3, looking puzzled.
"Like this," Heng said, pointing at each of them. "You're Number 2, you're Number 3, and I'm Number 4. And Jiang is Number 1."
The others exchanged looks, then nodded slightly. No objections. It wasn't fancy, but it worked. It gave them structure, something to hold onto.
"What do you think about the others?" Number 2 asked, tilting his head toward the rest of the children. "Should we let them into our group?"
"Maybe we should wait and observe," Heng said thoughtfully. They didn't know who they could trust yet.
"Ok," Number 3 murmured in agreement.
And so, they remained seated together on the bed, watching the others in silence.