296 and 291 both now had a stamp on their back. They weren't sure what it meant, but 296 and 291 tried guessing why sometimes.

"It is just to watch our reaction!" 291 would cry in a comedic manner, before getting angry glares and confused looks from the other scientists and numbers.

"I believe it's because it shows when Dr. Sir Exor truly acknowledges you as someone he can trust." 296 replied, her whispery voice hiding a small spark of joy from the words she spoke.

291 and 296 would often wait for each other when one had to go to an experiment.

And they have been friends in the Institute for a long time, too. Wherever the brunette-curled girl went, her friend 296 was not far behind.

Whether that would be in the open-space rooms.

Or the mealtime cafeteria.

296 and 291 sat on the floor, with a table so small and wide it could be easily confused for a rug, if it weren't for the 6-inch leg elevation and wooden texture. The same meal awaited them and everyone else living and working in their world of the Institute; mashed potatoes.

291 would sometimes complain about how she would still feel hungry, but 296 always shushed her down to avoid "disrespecting Dr. Sir Exor" (as she said it) while her own stomach quietly moaned.

And they were sitting there now in the aisle-arranged tables, sitting by all the other children and numbers.

"Here you go," Dr. Sir Exor walked behind each kid, placing a wooden bowl filled with their meal and a small spoon. His coat swayed as he walked–pristine, white, and clear of any stains or mess.

296 bowed as 291 reached her hands out for her bowl.

"Thank you, Dr. Sir Exor." She said.

"You are very welcome." He handed 296 her bowl after handing another to her friend. The bowl appeared much cleaner than it would usually be–there'd always be scraps of mashed potatoes left from the last serving when other scientists would. But it was like Dr. Sir Exor actually put in the effort to clean up the bowls and spoons before placing in a new serving. It was so clean and perfect, almost inhumanely so.

Dr. Sir Exor really cares about me. About us at the Institution.

Her pale skin tainted with a rosy blush as she smiled. Then she carried the bowl onto the table, but her friend seemed to be much more impatient to notice–she was starving and eating up the mashed potatoes so quickly!

296 scooped a small spoonful and traveled the utensil into her mouth, licking and biting with her front teeth into the meal. It was flavorless and had a mushy texture–in fact, 296 wouldn't need her teeth at all if this was the only thing she'd ever eat. There were also some bits of leaves inside–plants, as Dr. Sir Exor taught her. They tasted like bitter, crispy paper, and had an unpleasant smell that was like dirt and glue.

And the bits of leaves themselves weren't garnish-friendly either, adopting various colors of brown, dark yellow, and swamp green.

But it didn't matter to 296.

It was from Dr. Sir Exor, after all. He still gave her food and everything in between.

And the other scientists, too.

296 looked to her side as she watched her friend beside her gobble up the mashed potatoes. 291 glanced up at 296, spoon hovering inches from her hamster cheeks. 291 exchanged awkward glances to the other numbers in the room, and then looked to 296.

296 chuckled at her. "Your cheeks are so big!"

"Well don't look at me like I'm the strange one!" 291 exclaimed back, small bits of food flying from her mouth. Her cheeks were like an inflated balloon. "Besides, I bet others would've done the same," 291 eyed around the aisle, observing the many children-numbers who were carefully and slowly scooping the mush into their mouths.

And looking at 291 back. She's quite strange, their furrowed faces and slightly bulged eyes said.

"Or not," 296 giggled.

291 wrinkled her nose and stared at 296 as they both scooped another spoonful of mush into their mouths.

How does 291 still have food left in that bowl? 296 chortled at the thought.

Step, step, step, step.

291 and 296's heads shot up.

And then 296's eyes met a certain pair of eyes who owned the color of indigo and purple.

"Harpostia!" 296 exclaimed with a smile.

"Hello, 291 and 296," she bowed. Her robe was stained with the mashed potato color. It even had some bits of leaves scattered on top. How disorderly.

"I'm going to need 291 for one of Dr. Exor's experiments."

"Oh! You meant to say Dr. Sir Exor, right?"

291 stood up and glanced down at 296 as she said those words. Then, Harpostia took a long breath from her nostrils. She grunted quietly.

"Yes, that's what I meant to say." Her eyes glistened and she gave a stretched smile. "Now come along, 291. Dr Sir Exor is waiting for you."