The dorm room was smaller than any of them expected — eight beds squeezed into one rectangular space, four stacked bunks, white walls, one window barely wide enough to let in light. The air smelled faintly of dust and instant noodles, and the hum of the old ceiling fan struggled against the warm air of late afternoon.

Namjoon was the first one to unpack. His side of the room was already half-covered with books, papers, and a small succulent plant sitting by the window. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he carefully organized his philosophy notes. “We should probably agree on some kind of cleaning schedule,” he said, voice calm, practical — the kind that made you think he was used to leading people who didn’t listen.

Jin, on the other hand, had no intention of listening yet. He sat on the lower bunk, staring at his mirror, fixing his hair. “Cleaning schedule? Namjoon, we just got here. I need to look decent before I even think about touching a broom.” He smiled faintly at his reflection, always the visual one, always a little dramatic.

From the corner, Yoongi barely reacted. He had earbuds in, hoodie pulled up, one leg crossed over the other on his mattress. A single bag beside him, laptop open, music software already running. His bed looked like a studio corner — messy, dark, and somehow perfect for him.

Across from him, Hoseok was a burst of sunlight. “Guys, come on! This is fun!” He grinned wide, throwing his duffel bag onto the top bunk above Jin’s. His side was already decorated with photos, fairy lights, and colorful sticky notes that said things like ‘smile today!’ and ‘don’t give up!’

Jimin arrived not long after — quiet at first, polite bow, then a small smile that warmed the space more than the sun through the glass. “It’s nice to meet you all,” he said softly before setting down his suitcase, which looked like it belonged in a fashion show. His clothes were neatly folded, pastel shades and soft fabrics.

Taehyung was the opposite. His suitcase was chaos — camera lenses, random art supplies, even a small stuffed animal fell out as he unzipped it. “Oh, I forgot about you,” he said to the plushie, placing it on his pillow as if it was alive. His deep voice carried an odd calm, a strange mixture of seriousness and childlike wonder.

Jungkook came last — headphones around his neck, gym bag slung over his shoulder. He looked around silently, eyes sharp and observant, before claiming the top bunk near the door. “Cool,” he muttered under his breath, tossing his bag onto the mattress. You could tell he wasn’t used to sharing space — not like this.

And then there was Niko, the final addition to the chaos. Seven pairs of eyes had already met once or twice that day, sizing each other up, but when he walked in, the room finally felt complete.

Namjoon cleared his throat, glancing around. “Well… I guess that’s everyone now.”

Jin leaned back, grinning. “Eight strangers, one tiny dorm. This is either going to be a disaster or the best thing ever.”

Yoongi didn’t look up from his screen. “Probably both.”

Hoseok laughed, voice bright. “As long as we survive it, right?”

Jungkook was already climbing up to his bunk, muttering something about the gym schedule. Jimin offered a hand to help Niko with his luggage, smiling softly. Taehyung was filming everything with his camera, whispering, “First day in chaos dorm. Everyone looks so weird already.”

And for a moment, all eight of themstood in that room — different lives, different worlds — and yet somehow, it already felt like the start of something that might just work.