Anyone picked is the one who wins.

[That was the point of it all, to honour a soldier new back home, to gift them nice things from the city they defended. It had been Kratos, once. They pass the buildings, and the girl behind the window is flat faced with hard eyes, watching the passing Sylvaranti soldiers.

[She catches Kratos's gaze and her eyes widen; Kratos looks away, keeping his head down, and follows quietly after Yuan.]

I should have mentioned ... I will likely be recognised.