An Unusual Rom-Com Protagonist

Chapter 1: The Fish & The Pond

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There are moments in life when all the hard work you have poured into something comes into fruition. For Miyazaki Yūna, that moment came when she got accepted into the academy she had dreamed of attending for years.

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She could still remember how she stared at the test results with trembling hands, eyes shifting erratically, reading her name again and again as though the letters might rearrange themselves if she looked away for too long. But it didn't. Her name was there, printed among the successful applicants, confirming that all those years of studying had finally led somewhere.

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The countless evenings bent over textbooks, the weekends sacrificed to practice examinations, the mornings when she had forced herself out of bed despite barely having slept, and the moments of doubt wondering if someone like her could really compete with the students to have been preparing for this opportunity with better privilege and connections. It was worth it. She had made it. In fact... This was just the beginning.

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Hawthorne Academy is no ordinary school. It is one of the most prestigious private high schools in Tokyo, an institution whose reputation extends well beyond its impressive academic record. It was founded in 1882 by five influential families in Bloomsbury, Central London. And after over a century of success, opened its first branch at the heart of Tokyo, Japan (1992) rivaling older private schools.

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It is as controversial as it is famed. Alone, it tipped the political and economical balance in the city, boldly presenting itself as a rival to older established schools in the area, and proposed values that clash with Japanese culture which is inherently traditional in nature.

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The academy had the kind of facilities most schools failed to succeed in. An entrance examination difficult enough to discourage even capable students and a reputation for producing graduates who would eventually occupy important positions in society. To Yūna, who came from a considerably more modest background, being accepted is not an achievement but an opportunity that she cannot let slide.

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And the examination results are proof of her hard work. Yūna didn't only pass. She had achieved the highest score among the incoming students: first place.

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Her breathing stopped for a whole moment, shoulders stiff, then after a few moments more... She finally allowed herself to believe what she was seeing, she earned the highest level of scholarship and the achievement of being the top scorer among the first year students.

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"Dad... I did it...!" She hiccups, a sign of her tears about to flow.

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Yūna turned to her father— Miyazaki Kazuki, and was greeted by the look of warm fatherly love. Yoshiko rushed at him for an embrace, dragging her little brother Ryō which promptly complained before eventually crying.

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"Yūna nee-san... Are you really leaving for Tokyo?" Ryō asks with a nose full of snot, his brows tightly knitted as if forcing himself to put on a brave face.

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In turn, Yoshiko hugged her little brother tighter, wincing as he wiped both snot and tears on her shirt but doting anyhow.

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"I'll visit you and dad after I’m fully settled! I'll even bring back souvenirs, so don't cry, Ryō..."

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At the sight of this, Kazuki gazed at his children tenderly. But for a moment, just for a moment, there was a flash of worry in his eyes. The look of a parent concerned for his growing daughter. The look of remembering the same scene from a not-so-distant past. Back then, it was heartfelt— not to say that this one wasn’t, it does undeniably hold a sharper edge. A memory no one dared mention.

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"Alright, alright. You two fix yourself… We're going out." Said Kazuki with a grin, trying to ease the melancholic tension in the air.

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The once occupied children quickly shifted their gaze to their father, their murmurs of confusion distracting them from their advanced farewells for the future.

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"Eh?" The siblings asked in unison, dumbfounded.

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In response, Kazuki shakes his head, chuckling at their in-sync reactions.

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"Why, during times like this..." he trails off with a serious expression, Ryō and Yūna then raises their brows.

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"We have to celebrate!"

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“...” Silence.

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Yūna and Ryō turned to each other and bursted into laughter, tears glistening in their eyes as they struggled to catch their breath.

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"Geez, old man. You should learn better ways to announce things."

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"Ryō, where are your manners?" Yūna remarked brushing her hair with one hand and fastening her boots with the other to catch up to their father waiting in the distance. Ryō’s response was muffled by hurried footsteps and his older sister’s nagging.

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Elsewhere, outside of Ishikawa Prefecture, at the capital of Japan.

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The dining room of the Hawthorne family’s second residence is unnervingly quiet, the long polished table occupied solely by Morita and his grandmother, the matriarch. She ate with the same composure she displays during board meetings, her posture immaculate and her expression unreadable. Morita sat across from her with his back straight, eating with proper dining etiquette, knowing better than to make a sound without reason.

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“Second.”

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Morita’s hands paused above his plate. Meanwhile, his grandmother continued cutting through her steak with measured movements before carrying on, “That is your result?”

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The boy’s grip tightened around his utensils, but it was short-lived— a quiet surrender, suggesting that this wasn’t the first.

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“Yes, grandmother.” In this situation, his confirmation is futile, his grandmother knows the truth. She need not lift her gaze from her platter, she was not capable of predicting the boy but oh, can she control him. It begins.

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“Second place in the entrance examination,” she took another bite, leisurely chewing and swallowing her food while Morita loses his appetite on the other end of the table.

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“My son placed first when he entered.” The boundary. 'Her son'. His father.

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“You were provided with tutors and every academic resource available to you yet you placed second.”

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The boy’s lips parted methodically, forcing out a rehearsed apology though it mattered not what he say, “I apologize.”

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The matriarch, Katsuko Hawthorne, ignores his apology. She simply led the conversation to her will knowing that there’d be no objections.

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“One point separated you from the first.”

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There was no anger in her voice, nor disappointment that could be easily read. She spoke with the same detached certainty she might use when discussing a failed investment or an unfavorable report.

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Morita resumed eating in silence until she spoke again, like a person awaiting a guilty verdict.

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“Now that your first year of high school is starting, see to it that you behave yourself. You are not in a position where merely meeting expectations is sufficient.”

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“... Yes, grandmother.” She took a measured sip of tea before setting the cup back onto its saucer.

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“Good.” The word was delivered without praise.

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Suddenly, the scene was back to what it was before the conversation took place. Silence reclaimed the room. The conversation was over, but the weight of it remained. The matriarch had not raised her voice, insulted him, or shown the slightest trace of emotion. She had simply measured his achievement, found it insufficient, and moved on.

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Somehow, that made it hurt even more.

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