The cobblestone streets clacked under Kiyoshi's boots as he walked beside a young beast-human boy, whose canine ears flicked with every stray sound. The kid couldn't have been more than twelve, his wide eyes darting around the unfamiliar town. Kiyoshi had met him outside the bar—an orphan, he'd said, tagging along out of curiosity or maybe just loneliness.
A sharp tug at his sleeve snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned, wincing, to find Sakura glaring at him, her fingers digging into his arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" Her voice trembled, caught somewhere between worry and frustration. "This place is a mess—thieves, drunks, who knows what else—and you just left me in that filthy bar with all those creeps staring me down."
Kiyoshi couldn't help it; a grin crept onto his face. "Wait, were you actually worried about me?"
Sakura's cheeks flared red. "Don't flatter yourself! When did I ever say that?" She yanked his hair for good measure, cutting off his laughter.
"Ow—okay, okay!" Kiyoshi swatted her hand away, still chuckling. "Let go already. We're heading to the A.M.O. building. I'll explain on the way."
As they walked, he filled her in—the Adventure Management Organization, the licenses, the ranks. The beast-human boy trailed behind, quiet but listening. Sakura's expression softened a little, though her arms stayed crossed, like she wasn't ready to let her guard down.
The A.M.O. building loomed ahead, its massive stone doors stretching twenty-five feet high and ten feet wide. They swung open with a groan, revealing a chaotic bustle inside. Adventurers milled around—some grizzled and scarred, others fresh-faced and eager—while a towering wooden board listed the rankings. Names like Rayan Asmiya, Tagato Harlos, and Nanime Elfior glowed at the top, legends in the making. Kiyoshi noticed the absence of older noble families or royal guards—maybe they didn't bother with public rankings, or maybe they hid their power elsewhere.
The line for the test snaked through the hall, the air thick with nervous energy. Kiyoshi and Sakura stuck out in their patched-up clothes, drawing sideways glances from the crowd. Behind them, a sharp voice cut through the hum.
"What are you two doing here?" A boy stepped forward, his tone cocky, his clothes finer than most. "You don't look like you belong."
Nearby, two others—Yamu and Sumu—trudged back from their tests, heads low. "E ranks," Yamu muttered, kicking at the floor. "Barely worth the ink."
The boy smirked, turning to Kiyoshi. "I'm going first. If those losers only got Es, you'll probably trip over your own feet before you even start." He paused, sizing Kiyoshi up. "Tell you what—let's bet. I say you won't crack D."
Kiyoshi straightened, a spark of defiance flaring in his chest. "Fine. I'll take that bet. C or B, minimum."
The boy grinned, extending a hand. "Kavato Ramiya. You've probably heard of my family." His confidence wavered for a split second, a flicker of something—doubt?—in his eyes.
"Kiyoshi Cari," Kiyoshi replied, shaking his hand firmly. He wondered why a Ramiya kid was here alone, no guards or entourage. Is he lost? Running from something? No time to ask—he had to focus, look strong. Heroes didn't back down.
The wait dragged on, each test echoing through the hall with clangs of steel or bursts of light. When it was over, Kiyoshi and Kavato sat on the A.M.O. steps, the weight of their E ranks settling like damp cloaks. Sakura, though, had walked out with a B—enough to turn heads. A couple of adventurer gangs were already circling her, tossing out offers like she was some prize recruit.
Kavato nudged Kiyoshi, forcing a grin. "Guess we're the rejects, huh? You need anything, just ask. I'm the runt of the Ramiya litter—feels like they'd rather I disappear half the time."
Kiyoshi studied him, catching the strain behind the bravado. "I don't buy that. You've got something big ahead of you—I can feel it."
Kavato laughed, short and sharp. "Yeah, sure. Keep dreaming, Kiyoshi." He stood, brushing off his pants, and started down the steps. Halfway, he glanced back, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes—a mask over something heavier.
Kiyoshi waved, mirroring the gesture. He saw it then: Kavato wasn't just some spoiled noble kid. There was a story there, buried deep, and it tugged at him. For now, though, he had his own mess to figure out—E rank or not, he wasn't done yet.