It was raining the day Finnegan stumbled inside the Lucky Star.

His blonde hair was matted and plastered to his face. Blood soaked his right sleeve, and one of the lenses in his glasses was shattered.

“H-help,” he murmured. His knees hit the polished wooden floor. His glasses close behind.

The inn and tavern were quiet—most girls preferred to stay inside on rainy days. Yomi and Ravyn weren’t most girls, though. Some of the rarest Encroachers came out of hiding during the brutal San Island storms. That meant new weapons, new armor, and Bells.

They were two drinks in, celebrating a successful hunt of a pack of galatrax, when the youth tumbled through the door.

“What the hell?” Ravyn jumped to her feet, Yomi close behind.

“He’s bleeding!” Yomi hissed, rushing to his side. “[Stabilize]!”

Is this really the next man? Emberlynn, Ravyn’s mother, had always built her father as a larger-than-life figure. A man that couldn’t be felled by a little rain or surprised by a measly roach.

This… man… was tall but thin. Gangly. Like he hadn’t had a good meal in a long time.

He blinked up at Yomi. “A-are you… are you a nekomimi?”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Yomi dabbed at the bite on his arm with the napkin she’d snatched from the table.

“Mou ii.” He had the gall to look frustrated. Ravyn scoffed. “A catgirl,” he tried again.

“Oh. Yes.” Yomi looked over her shoulder at Ravyn. “We’re, um, well, we’re all catgirls.”

“Oh my God. This is the isekai jackpot.” He rubbed his eyes with his clean hand, blinking up at Ravyn. “Even if the monsters outside are a pain in the ass.”

Yomi hurried to the table, snagged her glass of water, and moved back to his side. “Here, drink this.”

“Ah. Arigatou.” He accepted the water and took a deep drink.

Ravyn had never heard so many unintelligible words in so few sentences. Which was impressive, considering who her mother was. “You didn’t fight back?” she snapped.

“Fight? With what?” He sputtered a laugh, his energy seeming to return. “Besides, why would I fight something that could so obviously kill me?”

Ravyn marched to his side and snatched his broken glasses from the floor. “To survive. Level up. Get Bells. Moron.”

“Baka!” he hissed back.

“Ravyn,” Yomi warned, her ears twitching with annoyance. “This could be new for him, remember?”

“Uh-huh. Saoirse has blessed us all with a—” She paused, squatting so she was at eye level with the newcomer. “Hey, is there a term for a small man? Like calling a young catgirl a kitten.”

“Erm, a boy?”

“Yes. Good. That will do.” Ravyn snapped the glasses in half at the thin bridge and looked at Yomi. “Saoirse has blessed us with a boy.”

“Hey, I—!” He reached for his glasses, then flinched back. His deep green eyes flickered between Ravyn and Yomi’s faces. “Nani? I don’t need my glasses anymore?”

“Saoirse’s tits, can you please speak like a normal person?” Ravyn commanded.

“Ravyn!” Yomi snarled.

He stared at her in disbelief. “How did you know I didn’t need those anymore?”

I didn’t. “Call it a hunch.” Ravyn tossed the remnants of his glasses in a nearby trash bin and wiped her hands. “Good luck in Nyarlea, boy.”

“My name is Finnegan.” He pushed Yomi’s hands away and stumbled to his feet. “Are you a bitch all of the time, or am I a special case?”

Ravyn growled, her hands balling into fists. On his feet, he was almost a head taller than her. But Finnegan was still a malnourished, ill-equipped boy. She raised one hand level to her chest and flattened her palm, the burst of flame mirrored in her violet eyes. “Want to find out?”

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“Holy shit,” he stepped backward, raising an arm to block his face.

Yomi caught Ravyn’s wrist and forced it down. “She won’t hurt you.”

“Hm? Please, try me.”

He froze, then looked at Yomi. “Wait, so… [Stabilize]. That was a Spell?”

I should burn you to a crisp right now. Save the Encroachers the trouble.

“That’s right,” Yomi said, positioning herself between him and Ravyn. “I’m Yomi, by the way.”

Finnegan nodded, and his gaze returned to Ravyn. “And you are?”

“Leaving.” Ravyn turned, retrieving the Bells for their drinks from her [Cat Pack] and plopping them on the table. She came to Shulan with Yomi for an adventure. Not to team up with a feeble man who used a strange language and had no idea that Magic existed.

That was a fast road to a quick death.

“Ravyn, wait!” Yomi turned to Finnegan and raised her hands. “Sorry, give me just a second.”

“Yeah. Sure. I’m, uh, just going to sit down a minute.” He wandered to an empty booth, then searched the pockets of his trousers. “Wait, what’s this?” His hand surfaced with the silver rectangle that Ravyn recognized immediately—an iPaw.

“We’ll explain in a moment,” Yomi replied, taking Ravyn’s wrist and yanking her farther back into the Lucky Star.

Their waitress—Kiri—and three other catgirls in attendance had witnessed his entrance and their exchange. Kiri was at his table in the blink of an eye, offering him whatever was on the menu free of charge. The other three leered longingly, joining into a single throng to share a whispered discussion.

“We will explain, Yomi?” Ravyn snarled once they were out of earshot.

“Yes. We.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you insane?” Yomi gestured wildly toward Finnegan, toward the other girls, and then back to Ravyn. “Isn’t this exactly why we left Zhuli?”

“To die trying to protect a mass of twigs? I don’t think so,” Ravyn retorted. “That is not a man. Let him go get himself killed, and then we can get a real man.”

Yomi fervently shook her head. “I don’t know what your mother told you about the men of Nyarlea, but everyone has to start somewhere, Ravyn.”

“That boy, sitting over there, is beyond novice levels of experience.” Ravyn pulled the hefty pouch of Bells from her [Cat Pack] and waved it in front of Yomi’s face. “Look, right here. We’re doing fine on our own. We hit Level 4 together, and we can hit Second Class together. We don’t need him.”

Yomi glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “No, but he needs us. Look at him.”

The tittering trio had made their way over to Finnegan’s booth, and Kiri had slid into the seat next to him. His face had turned a brilliant shade of red, and he stammered through his answers to the endless stream of questions.

Now that he’d dried off, Ravyn could see the dark circles beneath his eyes and the bruises on his neck and arms. There was a small cut on his temple and numerous abrasions on his knuckles as if he had come to blows with a roach. The tears in his clothing suggested he’d been on the losing side.

This wasn’t Finnegan’s first day on San Island—it had taken him some time to find Shulan. But by the grace of the goddess or otherwise, he’d survived and made it to the Lucky Star.

Memories of lonely nights spent in her own room assaulted Ravyn like a tidal wave. Talking to her only friend—a garnet, for Saoirse’s sake—and wishing someone, somewhere, would take the time to see things from her point of view.

“Fuck,” Ravyn whispered, the fight draining from her shoulders. “Yomi—”

“Look, we can make a deal,” Yomi interrupted, holding up a finger. “We give him two weeks. If we can both agree that he’s a lost cause, we’ll go back to adventuring ourselves. Just the two of us.”

It wasn’t a terrible deal. Two weeks wouldn’t set them back very far. Besides, the Bells her mother kept sending to Yomi—Ravyn had sent them back one too many times, apparently—would keep them afloat for a year if need be. As much as she despised using that money, Yomi was adamant about keeping a safety net should things go to hell.

Well, here we are, Mother. Hell himself has walked through the door.

“Two weeks? Swear on it?” Ravyn sighed.

“I swear, Ravyn. Please.”

Ravyn hooked her finger around Yomi’s, tightening it in a tiny truce. “I’ll have your tail if you push me again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Yomi grinned and hugged her.

“Oh. That’s overkill. No need for this.” Ravyn held up her hands at her side, unsure how to react to the hug. “I don’t see why you’re so stuck on him.”

Yomi released her, her smile widening. “What kitten doesn’t dream of being in a man’s Party?”

This one. “Yeah. Guess so.” Ravyn turned and marched to Finnegan’s table. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at each of his newfound companions in turn. “Alright, ladies, clear out.”

“Who the hell died and made you queen?” one of the whisperers retorted.

“Are you a healer, kitten?” Ravyn crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Are any of you healers, for that matter?”

The three girls shook their heads.

Ravyn jerked a thumb at Yomi. “He’s hurt. Let someone who can actually help him through.”

“Kiri, I think one of the girls in the back needs your help,” Yomi said.

Smooth when you can be, huh? Ravyn grinned. “We’ll take good care of him.”

“We’ll see about that,” Finnegan grumbled.

Ravyn cleared her throat and raised her hand in the same movement she’d done before to summon the flame. Finnegan jumped back as far as he could, holding the iPaw up like a shield.

“Don’t set him on fire, Ravyn,” Kiri murmured as she vacated the table. The other three slowly followed, glowering at Yomi and Ravyn as they returned to their seats.

“We’ll see about that,” Ravyn chirped.

Finnegan shot her an angry look over his iPaw.

Yomi took a seat next to him while Ravyn assumed the opposite side. She leaned forward, placed one finger on the top of the iPaw, and tipped it down until it rested against the table.

“Alright— what did you call me earlier? Baka?” Ravyn began, her smile sharp.

Finnegan’s face darkened. “Yeah.”

Ravyn snickered. “Well. Welcome to the Lucky Star, baka. Your training begins now.”

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