She is sent ahead to the dorm room, and while she’s tempted to ignore the tacit order and just explore on her own, she curbs her curiosity. For one, it’s only her first day, and she wouldn’t want to waste any good will she has on such a stupid matter. For two, she doesn’t want to run into someone who doesn’t know who she is and end up in some kind of altercation that will break the Vongola-Kingsman alliance. For three, she doesn’t want to get lost. So she somewhat reluctantly heads straight for the directed door and settles in.
There are a dozen beds lined up against the walls, corresponding lockers beside them. There are five other recruits beside her already in the room–their luggage sitting at the foot of certain beds. She only has the one duffel bag, because life has taught her to travel light, and so she chooses one of the beds closest to the door and stores her entire bag into the locker.
Three of the five are are crowded together, Englishmen maybe a few years older than she. While they’re not in the stunning three-piece suits that Arthur and Galahad wore to pick her up, their clothes still scream of spoiled luxury. But she doesn’t dismiss them entirely, because they’ve obviously been proposed for a reason and even then–sometimes numbers do matter in a fight.
The other two recruits, like her, are each staying in his chosen area. Unsurprisingly, they are both also older than her. The one opposite her is curled up and almost drawing his lanky limbs into a ball. In jeans and a soft-looking sweater he looks more like someone who had been kidnapped from his house than someone in the running for an elite vigilante group. In contrast, the other recruit is reclining in his bed two down from hers, the hood of his jacket pulled up and over to cover half his face. He’s probably not really sleeping, but he makes a good show of it.
As for her, she sits and makes sure to scan the room slowly and steadily. She knows the video feed can be nauseating under certain circumstances. She’d prefer not to do that to monitor team if she can spare them. Not that the dorm room is of any particular interest, but who knows. Maybe someone will want to add yet another expansion to the Vongola mansion.
Meanwhile, she wonders at the Kingsman method of recruiting new knights–how restrictive, to only choose one from each trial. But perhaps the others, the ones who fail out early, are used elsewhere? But what if there’s a test in which all of the candidates fail? Do they just not get a new knight from that particular set of recruits?
Then again, as if she’s one to talk on restrictive choices and convoluted recruitment–Vongola Guardianship still frustrates and embarrasses her. As if she were conscripted into a super sentai series where each member has unique powers and a… specific… color… Oh no.
She can’t help but cringe from the sudden onslaught of memories. Ryohei and Kyoko both had been avid fans of such shows when they were younger–her frequent childhood sleepovers at the Sasagawa household involved playacting of episodes watched earlier that day. She can never remind them. Because if she does, somehow, the weird Vongola affect will kick in and then maybe the Secchione Sezione will be unfortunately inspired in a certain direction. Or Tsunayoshi-kun will uncover yet another set of mysterious artifacts that correspond to each Flame type. Or aliens. Again.
She is so glad to be in a different country.
Her brain hadn’t been entirely devoted to horrified musings. Being so close to the door made it easy for her to keep track of entrances; and soon enough the number of recruits matched the number of beds.
A/N: I’m really sorry. This got super off-track. And then that ending was like blargh.