“Eighty-one candidates enrolled… and only twenty-seven cleared stage one,” Misora muttered, arms crossed firmly over her chest. Her voice held no surprise—just quiet assessment. Beside her, Jin let out a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t call them weak,” he said with a shrug. “They showed some fire, at least.” The breeze tugged at their jackets, strands of hair dancing in the wind as the two stared out toward the field ahead.

“Let’s just head in. Second stage’s about to start.” Jin grinned, glancing at the brunette beside him, “Should be interesting.”

“Fine,” she exhaled through her nose.

................

On the ground floor of the training hall, the remaining candidates gathered in silence, eyes fixed on the proctors stationed above—clipboards in hand, expressions unreadable. Ayane scanned the space, lips pressed into a thin line.

“The air’s starting to get tense… I can feel it.” She mumbled; her brows furrowed.

“That’s because it is tense,” Aoi replied, a single bead of sweat trailing down her cheek, eyes locked forward.

“Let’s move on to the second stage of the exams—The Tactical Combat Challenge.” Asuka’s voice rang out across the hall, calm and commanding. Her baby-blue eyes swept over the gathered students, sharp with intent. “As Shino explained earlier, you’ll be placed in teams of two or three and go head-to-head against selected upperclassmen. You’ll be judged on teamwork, adaptability, battlefield awareness, and creativity. Raw strength alone won’t cut it.” She paused, her tone turning brisk. “So—start choosing your teammates!”

Chatter broke out almost instantly as the first-years began buzzing with energy, forming circles and calling out to each other. Aoi scanned the room, her arms folded loosely. Then her eyes flicked up to the instructors standing above, murmuring among themselves. They could’ve just assigned teams, she thought, watching them. Guess they want us to mingle—even if it’s an exam. A gentle tap on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to find a familiar girl with bright turquoise eyes smiling at her.

“Hey! Want to team up? Our numbers are pretty close.” Ayane’s voice was cheerful, her smile bright.

Aoi raised a brow, then shrugged. “Sure.”

Ayane barely held back her excitement. “Yay! This is gonna be so much fun!” she giggled, bouncing in place.

It’s not supposed to be fun… Aoi sighed inwardly, a single bead of sweat trailing down her cheek. A soft, hesitant voice reached their ears.

“U-Um… excuse me?”

Aoi and Ayane turned toward the sound. Standing nearby was a girl with shoulder-length black hair, her fringe partly obscuring her right eye. She wore the standard Sayonaki jacket over a plain white undershirt, paired with black pants and scuffed combat shoes. Her hands were clenched nervously at her chest, knees drawn slightly inward as if trying to make herself smaller.

“I-I don’t mean to bother you, but… c-could I maybe partner up with you two?” She spoke in a shy mumble, lifting her gaze just enough to meet theirs.

Aoi blinked in mild surprise. Her expression softened as recognition set in. “Wait… it’s you,” she murmured, turning fully to face the girl. The girl flinched, then quickly bowed, her head low.

“I’m so sorry about earlier!” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to crash into you—I-I got hit by one of the pendulums and panicked. I thought I was done for…” She looked up, her brown eyes locking with Aoi’s lavender ones. “But you helped me. You didn’t have to, but you did. And I just… I never got to say thank you.” She bowed again; eyes shut tightly. “So… thank you. Really.”

Aoi stared for a moment, then let out a small sigh. One hand dropped to her hip, while the other scratched the back of her head. Her eyes closed briefly; face slightly turned.

“It’s fine. Seriously. Don’t sweat it,” she said, her tone low but kind. The girl slowly straightened, visibly surprised.

“I mean… you weren’t hurt or anything, right?” Aoi added, glancing off to the side. “So, it’s not a big deal.”

“And now you’re blushing.” Ayane smirked, leaning into Aoi’s space.

“Hah?! I am not!” Aoi snapped, glaring at her with exaggerated wide eyes.

Without missing a beat, Ayane turned to the shy girl. “Anyway, you can totally join us! The rules said teams of two or three, right?” She beamed, her voice bright and welcoming.

The girl blinked, startled by the offer, then smiled softly. “R-Really? Th-Thank you…”

“Tch. I’m not embarrassed,” Aoi muttered under her breath, cheeks turning a faint red as she looked away.

“Sure you’re not.” Ayane giggled.

She turned back toward the girl. “Guess we should introduce ourselves since we’re teammates now. I’m Ayane—and the red-faced grump over here is Aoi.”

“H-Hey!!” Aoi barked, pointing accusingly.

The other girl chuckled shyly. “I’m Setsuna… Setsuna Tatsuya.”

“Nice to meet you, Setsuna! Let’s give it our all, okay?” Ayane grinned, pumping her fist.

“Y-Yeah…” Setsuna nodded with a small smile.

“Stop pretending like you’re all innocent!” Aoi scowled, jabbing a finger at Ayane.

“Still hung up on that?” Ayane replied with a smug grin; her hands confidently planted on her hips.

Not far behind them, Raito stood with his arms crossed, quietly watching the trio—though his gaze lingered on Aoi more than he’d admit.

“So... it’s just us three for this round, huh?” Rikuya asked, adjusting his glasses with a calm glint in his eyes.

“Unless you’re planning to ditch us and go for a power couple combo.” Mitsuru smirked, nudging Raito in the ribs with his elbow.

“Tch… shut it.” Raito muttered, eyes closing in mild irritation.

“Hey there, handsome~” he turned his head slowly, expression flat. A black-haired girl stood beside him, her black undershirt clinging to her frame, still damp from the earlier stage. Her eyes gleamed, lips curled into a sultry smile as she twirled a strand of hair.

“Didn’t mean to intrude. Just couldn’t help noticing how lonely you looked.” She giggled, inching closer. “Name’s Nakano. Nakano Murase.”

Are we invisible or something? Mitsuru thought, raising an eyebrow.

Another one of those girls, Rikuya sighed inwardly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Nakano leaned in with a playful wink. “You’re seriously cute. Why don’t we team up for this phase? Just you and me. I’m a decent fighter, y’know. Together, we’d be unstoppable.” She fluttered her lashes dramatically. “So… what do you say?”

Without missing a beat, Raito turned away.

“Get lost.” His voice was cold as steel, hands buried in his pockets.

“H-Huh?!” Nakano gasped, cartoonish lightning practically cracking behind her as she froze mid-pose, mouth agape.

“I swear, your type is the worst any guy could ever come across. Better change or that attitude is going to make you impractical.”  He paused just long enough to throw a glance over his shoulder. “And while you’re at it, I suggest you focus on making yourself more useful instead of flirting around.” He walked off without a second look.

Mitsuru snorted, clearly enjoying the show. Rikuya smirked behind his gleaming lenses. Nakano’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“Hmph!” she stomped a foot in frustration.

“You’ve got to cool it down with the words, dude.” Mitsuru grinned, catching up beside Raito.

“Shut up. Leave me alone.” Raito muttered.

Rikuya adjusted his glasses again. “He’s right, you know. I mean, her type is part of the reason you aren’t particularly fond of girls.”

Raito stopped for a beat; eyes low. “That’s what I hate about them. They sicken me.” He muttered.

“Seriously, with that mindset, you’ll never find a girlfriend.” Mitsuru teased.

“Let’s just focus on the exams,” Raito sighed, closing his eyes again.

“In other words, you don’t wanna go solo.” Mitsuru grinned, elbowing Raito playfully.

“Shut up!” The brunette hissed, turning his head sharply at them.

“Really?! You seriously want us to do this phase with you?! I’m so glad!” Rikuya said, his fists clenched close to his chest in hope.

“Like hell I do!” Raito bit back.

“So cruel!” Mitsuru and Rikuya cried, cartoonish tears rolling down their cheeks.

………….

Asuka stepped forward, facing the candidates gathered on the lower level. “Alright, everyone set?” she called out, her voice ringing across the space. “Looks like you’ve all grouped into threes—perfect. That gives us nine squads total.” She clapped once. “To spice things up, each team will be heading to a different location.”

A boy raised his hand from one of the squads. “Uh, so… what exactly are we doing in this phase?”

Asuka gave a drawn-out sigh, her baby-blue eyes narrowing. “Getting there, getting there.” She gestured toward the massive screen behind her. “First, congrats—you’ve cleared step one by forming a trio. Step two? Head to your assigned gate and wait for the countdown.”

Mitsuru leaned in, whispering to his teammates, “C-Countdown? That doesn’t sound good…”

The screen behind Asuka flickered to life, now displaying a fluttering white flag. She flashed a grin. “This challenge is called… Operation: Capture the Flag!”

The first-years blinked in unison.

“Eh…?” Sweat drops formed collectively across their heads as Asuka continued, clearly enjoying herself.

“Each flag has a unique color based on the rainbow—Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet. Add in Black and White, and that gives us nine total.” She pointed to the squads. “Your squad number determines your flag’s color. Simple enough, right?”

Another murmur swept through the room. “But here’s the kicker…” Asuka’s tone darkened just slightly; her grin still present. “You’ll be racing against upperclassmen to retrieve your flag. Dodge, outmaneuver, and claim it. All within ten minutes.”

“Ah, I see now,” Rikuya murmured as he adjusted his glasses, the light catching his lenses. “They want to test how well we stack up against actual upperclassmen—see if we can match their strength and strategy.”

“Bet this whole part of the exam was her idea,” Mitsuru muttered, side-eyeing Asuka with a half-pout and a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek.

Rikuya smirked, arms folded. “From strategy to survival. Wouldn’t expect anything less from one of the Five Tails.” His glasses flashed again, concealing his eyes completely. Just then, proctors began making their way to each squad, handing out numbered tags.

“Team five, huh?” Ayane read off their card. “Guess that makes us the Blue Flag squad. Fitting, right, Aoi?” She grinned playfully at her friend.

Aoi side-glanced at her with mild annoyance. “Tch… shut it.” She then turned to the girl beside her. “Anyway, what about you?” she asked Setsuna. “Can you fight? Don’t want you crashing into me again like last time.”

Setsuna flinched, her fingers nervously fidgeting together. “Y-Yes! I’ve trained in hand-to-hand combat… and I know a few techniques,” she mumbled, her voice small but sincere. Before she could say more, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. Ayane pulled her in with a half-hug, a grin breaking across her face.

“Then that’s good enough for me. Let’s give it everything we’ve got!” she said, raising a fist high into the air.

…………

A loud buzz echoed across the training arena.

“Phase Two: Commence!” the proctor's voice boomed from the speakers above, and just like that, the digital countdown clock on the wall started ticking—10:00 flashing in bold red. Students rushed into their designated passageways as the exam entered its next phase.

Just third-years acting as proctors… Raito scoffed inwardly, his brows drawn in slight irritation as he jogged toward his team's assigned path, flanked by Mitsuru and Rikuya. On another side of the arena, Aoi stepped confidently toward her team’s entry point, Ayane on her left, Setsuna quietly trailing her right.

“Oh yeah! I’m fired up already!” Ayane beamed, bouncing on her heels with excitement.

“Let’s just get this over with…” Aoi muttered, palm on her right waist, eyes briefly shut in resignation.

“Y-Yeah…” Setsuna whispered, her voice soft but earnest.

Opening her eyes, Aoi focused on the passage ahead, her steps steady. Who will they pit us against…? she wondered silently, leading her teammates into the dark corridor.

Meanwhile, above, Asuka stood before a wide screen showing every team’s live feed. Each squad was now facing their designated battleground—opponents already in position. A sly grin played across her lips as her eyes zeroed in on one particular screen.

“You ready, Yura?” she asked without looking, her voice calm but laced with anticipation. A figure stepped beside her—composed, sharp-eyed, pulling a pair of black gloves from her pocket with practiced ease.

“Ready,” Yura replied coolly, slipping one glove on, her gaze locked onto the monitor showing Aoi’s team.