The alarm shrilled, dragging Eadlyn from a half-rested sleep. He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and opened the window. Dawn spilled across the sky in watercolor hues—soft gold against pale pink. Japan's mornings had a serenity that felt foreign yet deeply comforting.
He dressed in the crisp green-and-white Hamikawa High uniform, smoothing the fabric with quiet anticipation. Downstairs, breakfast awaited—warm rice, tamagoyaki, miso soup, and Sakura's fussing.
"Don't forget, Ead," she said while placing pickles on his plate. "First impressions matter."
Reno chuckled behind his newspaper. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself."
Eadlyn ate quickly. As he stepped out, he glanced toward Sayaka's house—curtains drawn, the garden still peaceful. A brief warmth flickered in him before he jogged to the station.
The train ride was short but filled with quiet determination. He wanted more than a new school. He wanted connection—real ones, not the fleeting convenience he'd seen back in the UK.
When Hamikawa High came into view, he slowed.
The campus was huge.
Wide courts glistened under the morning sun—basketball, baseball, football, volleyball—lined beside a pristine swimming pool. Students poured through the gates with practiced ease, chatting, laughing, stretching.
This wasn't just a school. It was a battleground of talent, personality, and youth.
Inside the principal's office, he stood straighter than usual. Taniguchi Akira, the principal, had a presence that commanded respect—mature, poised, yet sharp enough to read people instantly.
"So you're the new student," she said, folding her hands. "Eadlyn Greyson. Welcome to Hamikawa High."
"Yes, ma'am."
Her gaze softened, something thoughtful passing through her eyes. "Your homeroom teacher will be Saeki Naomi."
A knock interrupted, and a woman entered—calm, elegant, her aura gentle enough to silence a room without a word. This was Naomi-sensei.
"Is this the new student?" she asked.
Akira nodded. Naomi turned to him.
"I'm Saeki Naomi. I'll guide you for today. Follow me."
Her voice was soft—yet disciplined. A teacher who could be kind without losing authority.
As they walked through the corridors, curious eyes followed. Naomi held the class door open.
"Everyone," she announced, "we have a new admission. Please welcome him."
Eadlyn stepped in. The chatter died instantly. He could feel the stares—the awe, curiosity, envy.
He cleared his throat.
"Hello, I'm Eadlyn Greyson. I came from the UK. I hope we all get along."
Whispers erupted.
"Damn, he's good-looking."
"Woah, foreigner?"
"Is he half? Full? Mixed?"
Naomi's tone cut sharply.
"Quiet."
Silence dropped.
"Mr. Greyson, last bench, near the window."
The cliché made him smile inwardly. He walked past rows of desks until he reached the seat—sunlight spilling across it like an invitation. The window overlooked the entire campus, the sight strangely grounding.
As he sat, he exhaled slowly.
This is it.
Where everything begins.
He glanced at his classmates. Some avoided his eyes. Others stared openly. And somewhere in the room, he sensed the faint stir of interest, curiosity, jealousy.
Youth was unpredictable—but beautifully so.
He looked outside again, the sky stretching far beyond the panes.
Now he was here.
In Japan.
In Hamikawa High.
Beginning a story that wouldn't just be about romance, but about learning what love—and life—truly meant from the ground up.