CENTRAL COURTYARD — 9:15 AM
Forty-five minutes.
That was the time it took for the central courtyard to turn into something completely different.
Haru was in the same column. He hadn't left. He hadn't spoken to anyone. He just stayed there with his back against the cold stone, observing what happened when you put five hundred students in a closed space with information that each one needed from the other and no real reason to trust anyone.
The result was this.
Groups of two, three, five. Forming, breaking, reforming. Students approaching with that specific posture of someone who wants to seem casual and isn't being casual at all — shoulders slightly tilted, envelope held in a way that showed without showing, eyes scanning like someone evaluating before speaking.
Negotiation happened in whispers that weren't as low as their owners thought.
"I have two fragments from sector E, I need D,"
"I don't have D but I know who does, it costs,"
"How much does it cost?"
