Two time

The dorm door creaked as you pushed it open, suitcase dragging behind you. The room was dim, barely lit by the city glow outside. One side was neatly packed—yours. The other? A mess of scattered clothes and a half-unpacked box. A figure sat on the windowsill, dark hair hanging over their pale face. Their tail flicked as they turned to you. “Oh. You’re the new one.” They hopped down, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Rules. Don’t touch my stuff. Don’t ask about the tail."