Kina shouldn’t be here. Ichiro had given her strict orders to head straight for Hoshizora. Orientation, he’d reminded her, would be at noon that day.

Yet here she was, an hour away at the Chikyu Stop in its only inn, head bowed, with no intent of moving to catch the next carriage train.

Ichiro would have her hide.

Kina hunkered further down, stirred her rice, and listened.

The inn’s dining area wasn’t large, so the two men hadn’t had much choice but to sit three seats away from her. They leaned close to each other, voices low, their easy grins making them seem like two friends, sharing joys and passing along tales.

Kina may not have spared them a second glance if she hadn’t caught the marking on the man’s wrist—an outline of a star with one side shattered.

The symbol of the Hakai, a guild of mercenaries who had once been harmless but had started performing larger, bloodier tasks in the last decade. A new level of mayhem that she knew all too well.

Not that she believed the man to be part of the Hakai, though. His tattoo had more of the top right point broken, while the true Hakai focused the destruction on the bottom right. They also wouldn’t be so foolish as to place it on their wrist, a spot that a small movement could reveal.

But this man felt the need to mark himself with the tattoo of a notorious guild. It didn’t help that its blasted star, correctly done or not, set Kina’s blood aflame.

Two minutes before the carriage train. If she sprinted, she could make it.

Steps clacked against wood as someone descended the stairs. “Don’t let my luggage touch those walls!”

Kina’s eyes flicked to the mid-aged man behind the bar. The owner pressed his lips together and pointedly wiped at the counter as a girl in a bright red, gem-encrusted jacket and crimson battle skirt strutted into the room. A couple young men walked behind the woman, doing their best to not let her five different bags touch any part of the inn.

The girl sniffed at them, then stared down her nose at the rest of the inn. “Can’t say I’m going to miss this place, but I’ll be sure to have my father send you a bag of glints. May help you pay for better housekeeping.”

The owner didn’t raise his head, but Kina still caught the flare of indignation in his eyes. “Thank you for your kindness, Ganji-sama.”

Kina’s eyebrows shot up. Honorifics weren’t a dead practice, but they were reserved for the utmost respect. She couldn’t help but wonder if this Ganji girl and her bloodline actually deserved it. If she had to guess, Kina would lean toward the owner wanting to avoid any extra attitude, because it did seem to please his guest.

Something also pleased the Hakai-wannabe, because his eyes lit up. He laughed boisterously all of a sudden and leaned closer to his buddy. Innocent enough, but from the corner of Kina’s eye, she caught the sinister edge to his smile.

The girl walked out, her henchmen struggling behind her. A few beats passed, and then the men rose to their feet and followed.

Kina groaned. “Hey, sir,” she said, giving her brightest grin to the owner.

He tried to return it, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Yes? How can I help you?”

“I’m ready to pay.” She dropped a handful of green-black coins with holes in the middle on the counter.

“Your meal was only three glints,” the man chuckled. “Don’t let our other friend make you think we need the extra coin.”

“It’s deserved. Best rice I’ve had in a while.” Probably because Ichiro couldn’t cook anything but meat, a strange occurrence she could never figure out, but she didn’t add that part. “Plus, consider it a bit of a bonus for my favor.”

The owner had been hesitantly sweeping the glints into his hand, but he paused at that part. “A favor?”

Kina stood from her stool and stretched. “Yeah, I need you to contact the local Astrals if you can.”

“Now, young lady,” the owner started, turning his head every which way. “I’m not sure why you’d think they’re needed. I hope you’re not planning on finding trouble.”

After a moment of consideration, Kina beamed. “Nah, I’m not going to be in any trouble. I just think I’m about to make some friends who are going to need the Astrals’ help to get to their comfy new prison cells.”

Without providing any other explanation, she beamed and waved, and then she jogged for the exit of the inn. She had a spoiled, red-clad girl to go save.