“Initiates’ table is over there,” a woman said with a dismissive glance and pointed to her right when Kiriai, tray in hand, tried to sit at an empty spot at her table.

Flushing, Kiriai looked across the bustling eatery and saw that, yes, there was a large, mostly empty table in the center of the room. Two of her fellow initiates already sat, eating with single-minded focus. All she could see was the tops of their heads, damp from the shower, as they leaned over their trays. Kiriai hurried in their direction, knowing how little time they had. She reminded herself not to eat too much, especially considering what tortures Gebi might have in store for them.

“I’m Brawler Kiriai,” she said as she set her tray down next to the dark-haired man, whom she recognized as the one who had tired out first. She was pretty sure his name was Jimu. She knew how he fought, from analyzing him last month in the brawler tournament, but she was embarrassed to admit she hadn’t spent too much effort remembering names.

His head popped up, and he forced a swallow down before replying. “Don’t let any of them catch you saying that,” he said with a tip of his head to the rest of the room. “Apparently they don’t consider us brawlers like them until we suffer through the next month without quitting.” He shrugged a shoulder and gave her a half smile. “Misery always loves company. They had to suffer through it when they started, so somehow they enjoy making sure we do the same.”

Kiriai set her tray down and pulled back a chair to sit. He reached out a hand. “Initiate Jimu here,” he said, injecting a hefty dose of sarcasm into the title.

Kiriai relaxed and shook his hand, letting her defenses drop a little for the first time since Sensei Nigai shocked them out of bed this morning. “Initiate Kiriai,” she said with half a grin before reaching for her spoon and shoveling a big bite of a colorful egg-and-vegetable dish into her mouth. She tried not to moan at the burst of flavors and textures. At least their initiation didn’t bar them from the brawlers’ food. That in itself almost made up for the rest of it.

Jimu smiled and nodded at her reaction. After he swallowed, he paused for a second. His expression sobered and he leaned in to speak quietly. “You seem to be a decent sort. Don’t let all the nastiness get to you. All of us fought and earned our spots here.” He waved a hand at the rest of the table. “We’re brawlers and they can’t take that away from us if we don’t give it to them. Just remember that, no matter how bad it gets. We’re brawlers.”

“And we’ll learn to fight as good as them?” Kiriai let the words and doubt slip out before she could stop them.

His eyebrows shot up. “Them? Of course. They all sat right where we are sitting when they started. Just give it some time and we’ll be just as good.”

Kiriai forced a smile in thanks for the encouragement as a painful knot tightened in her chest.

Time. That was one thing she and the people of Jitaku Hood didn’t have.

A tray clattered down across the table from her, jarring her from her thoughts. The tall woman didn’t even look at her. She was eating almost before she’d fully sat down. She’d tied her light cinnamon hair back, revealing features a little too rugged to be pretty and now filled with a focused intensity. Kiriai recognized her as the first brawler Chief Kosui had chosen at the end of the tournament. She’d seemed friendly enough from the short interactions they’d had a few weeks ago.

“Good to see you again, Initiate Jiseki,” Kiriai said, aiming for cordial.

The woman looked up and stared at her, silent as she chewed. When she finished, instead of answering, she let out a short disgusted huff, shook her head and returned her attention to her meal.

The unexpected rebuff stung, especially after Jimu’s friendliness. More than that, Kiriai had no idea what had prompted it. She hardly knew Jiseki.

“Rumors are the bane of Southern Core. Just ignore them,” muttered Jimu without looking at her as he stood, tray in hand, plates empty. Before she could ask for details, he strode quickly toward the cleanup area.

His fast pace reminded Kiriai to hurry, and she followed suit, polishing off her single plate of food. Across from her, Jiseki remained silent as she ate. The rest the initiates now sat at the table, but like Jiseki, they kept to themselves, eating with none of the camaraderie, or even friendly challenging, Kiriai was used to among a group of fighters assigned together.

A sudden wave of homesickness washed over her. She wanted her friends and family around her instead of these touchy strangers. Even the battles in her home arena with fellow scrappers took on a nostalgic glow compared to this new world of skills that made her feel like a beginner again. She prayed that Tomi and Shisen had good news when she met with everyone tonight. By tonight, she’d really need some.