A boy stepped forward—lighter brown skin, the Sao spiral pin bright on his chest. His outfit was almost knightly: clean white, trimmed neat, but casual enough to match the rest of the examinees. What caught the eye most was a patch of dark purple hair cropped at the crown, ringed by the rest of his white hair like a crown.
"Nice to meet you, Akira. I'm Hinata Nobunosuke," he bowed once, polite and steady. "Good to meet you."
Akira took his hand, a little reluctant. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, too."
Hinata's gaze was calm. "What made you want to hunt, did Mr. Ito force you?"
Akira smiled as the gate to the first stage began to grind open. "Something like that it's kinda of a long story, but the short version is To be King."
The gate yawned fully. Kenji's voice washed over them—measured, theatrical. "Good luck, examinees."
They surged forward. Akira ran hard, leaving most of the crowd behind. The hall narrowed, then swallowed them. He pushed until the world went dark—then a single room, lit with one bare bulb, revealed a wooden chair at its center. The gate slammed shut behind him. The others closed in, breathless and tense.
A woman sat in the chair. Black hair, early thirties, cigarette drooping from her mouth like a lazy scowl. She had the kind of tired face that saw too much and still judged harder.
"I'm Kaori Tsukikage—your first examiner. Well. Technically, you're last. You only have one more test after this." She took a drag and exhaled, smoke curling like a question mark. "I'll ask you a series of questions. Answer how your heart feels. There are no wrong answers…unless your heart is lying to you."
She leaned forward. "First question: your mother stands on one side of a train track. A train is barreling toward her. There's a switch. Flip it, and it kills five strangers instead. Don't flip it, and your mother dies. Put up one finger if you'd flip the switch. Two fingers if you wouldn't."
Silence stretched. Most of the room raised two fingers. Only a handful raised one. Kaori's eyes swept the room, cold and clinical. "You, you, and you—wrong." She pointed at groups, sending them out of the room with a lethal kind of dismissal. "None of you believes that in your hearts." Some held their hands steady as they were ejected; others changed their minds too late.
She singled out Hinata. "You—explain. Why would you let it run over your mother?"
Hinata's voice was soft and even calm. "She wasn't a mother to me. She beat me because I looked like my father. My mentor killed her to save me." He didn't flinch. "I don't hate her. But to me, she's no more a mother than a stranger." He offered a small, warm smile as if discussing the weather.
Kaori nodded once—an almost-approval. "Good answer. You may go."
She pointed to another boy—a compact kid with a tight black afro and a yellow-strapped jacket. He lifted one finger. "I miss my mother. She died before I knew her." He spoke like it was a wound, not an excuse. Kaori's eyes flicked over him and then across several others—some young, some older—before landing on Akira.
Akira raised two fingers without thinking. Kaori's stare was a blade. "Why?" she asked.
Akira's voice was flat. "I don't know who my mother is. She left. She's a stranger."
Kaori nodded again, not softening. "Your hearts are…useful. You understand what they really want." She tapped ash from her cigarette, then locked eyes with the room. "Last question. If a hundred villagers stood in your way—even if they were innocent, even if they believed they were right—but they opposed your goal, would you kill them?"