Ayane continued to mumble excitedly, a radiant smile on her face as Aoi glanced sideways at her, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple.

“You know this girl?” she asked, raising a brow. Ayane gave a small smirk.

“’Course I do! Everyone does, in fact! That’s Asuka Renge—one of the powerhouses of Sayonaki High! She’s a second-year and a member of the Five Tails, one of the strongest units that make up the elite core of the Nightingales. Her fighting style’s top-notch, and she’s insanely strong!” she said confidently, stars practically twinkling in her eyes.

“The Five Tails...” Aoi echoed softly, her gaze fixed on Asuka while her thoughts drifted back to the fight from the night before. She did seem strong, she mused, recalling the red-haired girl’s precise movements.

Asuka took a step forward, her commanding voice snapping everyone to attention. “First of all, we’re honored to have you here at Sayonaki. Thank you for taking the time to attend.” She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd of first-years. “I’m sure many of you already know what Sayonaki stands for—our way of life, our pride. This is a school that breeds fighters—people who are ready to protect this town and its people.” She folded her arms. “Gangs come and go. Some grow stronger, others fade out. But we don’t wait for threats to reach our doorstep. We prepare for them.”

The first-years listened intently—some with arms crossed, some grinning, others wearing unreadable expressions. Then, Asuka’s tone shifted, becoming firmer. “That’s why, for this year’s entrance exams… anyone who fails even one round will be disqualified immediately.” Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs broke out. Shocked faces and wide eyes were everywhere.

“One failure and you're out?!” Ayane exclaimed, stunned.

Aoi turned to her. “These entrance exams… what are they like?”

Ayane quickly pulled her notebook and pen from her jacket and flipped through the pages. “I’m not completely sure, but I’ll say what I’ve got. They only started doing them last year, but from what I’ve heard, there are three stages: First is the endurance test, which is split into two parts. Then there's a team combat challenge, where we're paired into duos or trios to fight upperclassmen. And finally, the combat survival challenge—where we go up against mechanical puppets and dummies.”

Aoi blinked in surprise. “Wow. That’s intense. Only a year in and they’ve gone this far? They’re not playing around.”

“The entrance exams are designed to push your limits,” Asuka stated, her voice steady and commanding. “They combine intense physical challenges with strategic combat trials—measuring not just your strength, but your adaptability and will to fight.” She paused, eyes scanning the crowd of first-years before stepping back. “For the specifics… I’ll let my comrade, Shino, take it from here.” From her side, a tall boy stepped forward—black-haired, glasses glinting under the gym lights. He wore the Sayonaki jacket over a white undershirt, black jeans neatly held by a belt, and polished shoes. A sleek laptop rested in his hands as he approached.

Ayane let out a small gasp, “That’s Shino Shibaoka…” she murmured, her whisper mixing with excited murmurs of the crowd as the said boy adjusted his glasses with a calm precision, his expression unreadable as the faint glow from his laptop screen reflected in his lenses.

“The entrance exams are divided into three main stages,” he began, his voice steady and formal. “Each stage is designed to test a different core trait: endurance, tactical ability, and survival instinct.” He tapped a key, and the screen behind him displayed a diagram—three symbols marked in succession.

“Stage One is the ‘Endurance Evaluation’. It’s split into two sub-sections and focuses on physical performance—obstacle courses, distance running, upper body strain, and reaction-based agility drills. A single failure in either subsection leads to disqualification.”

Ayane leaned closer to Aoi, her eyes wide with both awe and anxiety. “That part’s no joke,” she whispered. “Last year, I heard three people collapsed halfway in. One even had to be taken off in a stretcher.”

Aoi blinked, surprised. “That bad?”

Ayane nodded quickly. “They don’t hold back. It’s to see who’s mentally and physically prepared from day one.”

Meanwhile, not far from the crowd, the boy who had bumped into Aoi earlier, Raito Kazehaya, stood with his arms folded, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. His two best friends flanked him casually.

“So, they start by grinding everyone into the dirt,” The boy had ash-brown hair that fell to the nape of his neck, with straight-cut bangs framing his gentle cinnamon-brown eyes. Two longer strands hung loose on either side of his face, reaching just between his ears, while a few unruly cowlicks stuck out, giving his otherwise soft appearance a slightly untamed edge, Rikuya Okabe murmured, nudging his glasses slightly up the bridge of his nose. “Guess they’re not wasting any time separating strength from show.” He said with a light tone, his Sayonaki jacket hanging open over a fitted gray t-shirt. Dark, well-tailored trousers and sturdy black sneakers completed his look, his eyes fixed straight ahead with quiet focus.

“Works for us,” Raito said with a lopsided grin. “This’ll be fun.”

The other boy having black hair tied into a small ponytail, short bangs resting on his forehead, parted by both sides, framing his face symmetrically with red highlights, Mitsuru Hayakawa, stretched an arm over his head with a yawn, his eyes closed. “Hope it’s not too boring. I don’t want to beat a bunch of kids who faint after running a lap.” He sighed, opening his eyes to reveal crimson-coloured irises, sporting the darker version of the Sayonaki jacket left unbuttoned over a black t-shirt, paired with well-fitted gray trousers and a pair of black and white sneakers.

Back onstage, Shino tapped again. The diagram shifted to an image of shadowy figures clashing in combat.

“Stage Two is the ‘Tactical Combat Challenge’. Students will be placed in teams of two or three and will face off against selected upperclassmen. You will be judged on teamwork, adaptability, battlefield awareness, and creativity. Raw strength isn’t enough.”

Ayane clutched her notebook against her chest, visibly eager. “This part’s kind of exciting. Last year, someone impressed the first elite wing so much they got invited to spar with him.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “Even as a first-year?”

“Mm-hmm! It’s rare, but it happens.” Ayane’s eyes sparkled. “I wonder if you’ll get noticed too…”

Aoi blinked. “Me?”

At the back, Raito gave a light scoff. “Team battles, huh? I’ve trained for worse.” He glanced sideways at his friends. “Just try not to drag me down.”

Rikuya grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t cry when I steal the spotlight.”

Mitsuru chuckled. “As long as you don’t get knocked on your ass, we’re all good.”

Then, Shino tapped one final time. The screen dimmed, revealing a blurry image of what looked like a warehouse arena, with glowing mechanical figures crouched in shadows.

“Stage Three,” he said, “is the ‘Combat Survival Trial’. You will enter the arena and be forced to survive a randomized encounter with mechanized puppets—each one designed for unpredictability and lethal precision. The objective: endure and adapt. Elimination occurs if you’re immobilized for more than ten seconds or rendered unable to continue.”

Ayane’s voice lowered. “This one’s scary. It’s like they want to see how you’d act in a real-life ambush.”

Aoi felt a cold tingle creep along her spine. “That’s intense.”

“It is,” Ayane agreed. “A guy broke his arm last year. He still has metal pins in it.” 

Aoi gave a dry look, a bead of sweat forming at her temple, “I’m pretty sure you’re exaggerating right now,” she muttered, earning a light chuckle from Ayane.

Back in the crowd, Rikuya studied the screen, eyes narrowing slightly. “So that’s the final stage…”

Mitsuru whistled. “Looks like fun.”

Raito smirked. “Fun’s one word for it.”

Rikuya’s expression remained thoughtful as he murmured, “Say what you want… but these exams aren’t just to test if we can fight. They’re testing if we can survive Sayonaki itself.”

A ripple of unease spread through the crowd. Whispers broke out among the first-years like wild static—some faces paling, others sharpening with resolve. The energy in the air was tense, anticipatory… electric.

“So, if we mess up even once, it’s over?” a nervous-looking boy near the front asked aloud, fingers twitching against his sides.

A girl with tightly braided hair rolled her eyes. “Obviously. They’re not gonna coddle us.”

“Then we’d better not mess up,” someone else muttered. From a far end, the silver-haired girl from earlier stood still, her expression neutral and composed with a small smile, as she processed the information about the exams.

Amid the growing stir, Ayane turned to Aoi, her voice hushed. “I guess this is it. From here on, we’re not just students—we’re fighters. Ready or not, we’re already in it.”

Aoi didn’t respond right away. Her subtle lavender eyes swept over the crowd, then to Asuka and Shino standing silently at the stage’s edge. So, this is how Sayonaki tests us... not just physically, but mentally too. She exhaled slowly; hands clenched just tightly enough to keep herself grounded. “I’m ready,” she murmured.