Sunday Silence.
Born in Kentucky, she had originally been an utterly ordinary Umamusume.
But she had terrible luck.
Her family were not what most people would call good people. They would berate her over trivial things and showed her very little genuine concern.
When she was young, she contracted viral gastroenteritis. The nonstop diarrhea nearly killed her.
At the time, even the doctors treating her believed she did not have long to live, and yet she still gritted her teeth and endured...
But even surviving that did little to improve her life.
Small misfortunes clung to Sunday Silence like parasites in her bones.
And in her family's eyes, that bad luck only branded her even more firmly as a jinx.
It was not as though they starved her or denied her basic needs, but the cold indifference with which they treated her still wounded her deeply.
So her temperament grew harsher, and she learned to keep people at a distance.
She thought that getting into Tracen Academy in America would change all of that, so she applied.
But on the way there, after boarding the school bus bound for Tracen Academy, the bus crashed in the suburbs.
It overturned.
There had been more than a dozen Umamusume on that bus.
She was the only one who survived.
By the time Sunday Silence woke up in the hospital, rumors about her had already spread across the American Circuit.
The title of Black Jinx had been pinned to her, and no matter what she did, she could not shake it off.
At that point, enrolling in Tracen Academy in America was clearly no longer possible.
"Ah... why am I so unlucky..."
"Why does this kind of thing only ever happen to me...?"
Lying in her hospital bed, the black-haired girl pressed her lips together, tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes as she let out her bitterness and resentment.
And then, at that very moment, her family appeared before her and tossed an admission notice in front of her.
"Starting today, you'll be going to school in Japan."
"There's no place left for you here. Please stop causing trouble for us."
Her family's words were the final straw.
Numbly, Sunday Silence picked up the admission notice.
Nishikino Academy...
She had never even heard the name before...
"...Okay. I'll go."
So they're planning to dump me somewhere I don't know and leave me to fend for myself...
I'm just a jinx nobody likes anyway...
Maybe sending me to some roadside academy like this is the only way I won't affect the people at home...
No documents went missing. No sudden illness struck. Her flight was not delayed. There was no horrific plane crash, either.
The cold, impersonal process of traveling abroad went unnervingly smoothly—so smoothly that Sunday Silence almost felt dazed by how unreal it seemed.
The plane landed steadily at New Chitose Airport in Sapporo, Hokkaido. Outside the window, the foreign air looked cold and clean. Everything was so ordinary it felt almost cruel, as though even misfortune had lost interest in her and could no longer be bothered to pay her any attention.
Following the address, she took a train, then transferred to a bus, heading all the way toward the academy said to be in Hokkaido.
Inside her was nothing but barren numbness. She had already prepared herself to find a shabby, remote roadside academy—maybe one without even a proper training ground.
Being exiled here was probably the final destination for a "jinx" like her.
And yet, when the bus rounded the final corner and that cluster of buildings came into view against the vast plains and distant mountains, Sunday Silence's lifeless pupils suddenly contracted, and her tightly pressed lips parted without her even realizing it.
This... was Nishikino Academy?
It was the complete opposite of the desolate, crumbling place she had imagined.
The main gate was grand and modern, its sleek design framed by towering metal structures that gleamed with a cold, solid shine beneath the northern sun.
As far as the eye could see, broad, immaculately trimmed lawns stretched into the distance. Among them were carefully planned running tracks, training facilities, and several striking academic buildings and venues whose glass curtain walls reflected the daylight.
The sheer scale and pristine newness of it all radiated financial strength and ambition no less impressive than any prestigious academy she had ever seen.
The dorm buildings in the distance were laid out in orderly tiers, and she could even see wisps of steam rising from what looked like an indoor hot spring facility.
How was this some half-dead corner where people were sent to fend for themselves?
What stood before her was clearly a powerful stronghold on the rise, lavishly equipped and growing fast.
A faint ripple passed through the stagnant waters of her heart before even she herself noticed it.
Her pure numbness gave way to confusion.
What kind of place had her family casually thrown her into?
Whatever this place called Nishikino Academy was, it was absurdly far removed from the barren place of exile she had imagined.
She tightened her grip on the thin handle of her luggage and stood there, staring at the almost provocatively splendid sight before her—a sight that mocked every expectation of misfortune she had brought with her.
For the first time, she felt a kind of bewilderment toward the new life she was about to step into.
Is this really some little roadside regional school?
Where the hell have they sent me?
Her fingers loosened slightly on the suitcase handle. Looking around, Sunday Silence realized she was not the only one standing there in a daze by the school gate.
Several other Umamusume, each dragging suitcases of their own, wore the same mix of travel-worn fatigue and deep confusion on their faces. Like her, they stood staring at the academy complex, which matched the image of a "remote regional academy" about as well as chalk matched cheese.
Their hair and eye colors were all different, making it obvious they came from different countries, and there was a similar sense of alienation hanging around them all.
"You're the new students for the international class, right?"
A gentle voice broke the silence.
A smiling security guard in uniform stepped forward, as though this scene was one he had long since grown used to.
"Please come with me. I'll take you to the dorms first so you can get settled in, and then a teacher will show you around."
A feeling of being properly received, rather than casually discarded, quietly seeped into Sunday Silence's awareness.
She followed the guard in silence, entering Nishikino Academy together with the other new students through those imposing gates.
The dormitory area overturned her expectations all over again.
This was not some cramped, noisy student dorm.
Instead, there were multiple sleek, modern buildings that looked more like high-end apartments.
Inside, everything was spacious and bright. The rooms were comfortable single or double rooms, newly furnished and fully equipped, with private bathrooms, desks, wardrobes, and even small balconies. Outside the windows lay either carefully manicured courtyards or the silhouette of distant mountains.
Compared to the famous schools she remembered from America, the living conditions here were no worse—if anything, they were more thoughtful.
Quietly, she set her meager belongings down in the single room assigned to her, her movements carrying a trace of unfamiliar caution.
Is this really the kind of place I'm allowed to stay in?
Once they were settled, a kind-faced female teacher wearing thin-framed glasses was already waiting downstairs.
She led the still somewhat bewildered group of new students down campus paths laid out with careful logic and lush greenery, until they finally arrived before an imposing main building.
When the heavy glass doors opened, the academy lobby came into view.
The space was open and lofty, bright and expansive. A giant crystal chandelier cast down warm light, and the polished marble floor shone like a mirror, reflecting the figures passing through.
One side held a sleek, modern reception desk, while the other had a comfortable lounge area.
Mounted on the wall was a huge electronic display cycling through introductions to the academy, recent activities, and... highlights of Tamamo Cross sprinting across the track and taking victory.
Standing in the center of that vast lobby, a tall figure had his back to them, apparently watching Tamamo Cross's final spurt on the screen as well.
As though hearing them enter, the figure turned around.
He was a remarkably young-looking man, dressed casually but well. On his face was a bright, open smile that somehow both suited the luxurious setting and stood in slight contrast to it.
His gaze swept over the new students, who still looked restrained, confused, and wary. In the end, it seemed to pause for just an instant on Sunday Silence's lowered yet still sharp black eyes—but so briefly it was almost impossible to catch.
"Ah, so you're the new students joining the international class? Welcome to Nishikino Academy!"
He walked a few steps toward them, his voice clear and his manner warm and natural, instantly breaking some of the stagnant distance in the air.
"I'm Sakuraba Ryo. You could say I'm... well, one of the academy's investors. No need to be nervous. Just think of this place as your new home."
In fluent, impressively polished English, Sakuraba Ryo introduced himself.
An investor?
Something in Sunday Silence's heart stirred faintly.
His smile was too infectious, too bright. For someone like her, who had grown used to shadows and indifference, it felt almost dazzling—unreal, even.
"You've all had a long trip, so get some proper rest first and take some time to adjust. The teachers will explain your classes and training schedule in detail."
Sakuraba Ryo kept speaking, his attitude so casual it felt as though he were greeting old friends rather than a group of newly arrived foreign students with complicated pasts.
"Here, all you need to do is focus on running and improving yourselves. Everything else—any inconveniences in daily life, any confusion you might have about the future..."
He paused there, still smiling, but his eyes seemed to grow more earnest, as though he could see straight through to the unease in their hearts as newcomers.
"You can come find me anytime. My office is on the third floor of the main building, or you can just ask any staff member how to contact me. Nishikino Academy may not be the most famous place yet, but I hope it can at least become somewhere that makes you feel at ease—somewhere you can give everything you have to chasing your dreams."
His words were like a current of warmth, trying to melt the ice covering the new students' hearts.
The rigid expressions on several of the girls' faces seemed to soften a little. One or two even nodded lightly.
But Sunday Silence only pressed her lips together harder.
At ease?
Chasing dreams?
Those words were too distant for her—too luxurious.
As she looked at Sakuraba Ryo's bright, all-embracing smile, what rose in her was not warmth, but a deeper caution and suspicion.
This baseless kindness. This acceptance that was too perfect...
Against the backdrop of a life steeped in bad luck and indifference, it felt profoundly suspicious.
This investor called Sakuraba Ryo. This Nishikino Academy, so magnificent it hardly seemed real...
What exactly did they want from a problem student in exile like her?
She shifted her gaze slightly away and let it fall to the gleaming floor of the lobby. The fractured, distorted light of the chandelier reflected there, along with the blurred image of her own face—one full of distance and guardedness.
Just as Sunday Silence stared at that reflection on the floor, trying to grind both the overly bright chandelier light and the turmoil in her head beneath her feet, a set of brisk footsteps approached.
Then a clear, precise voice sounded at her side.
"Miss Sunday Silence?"
Her whole body jerked as though she had been pricked by an invisible needle.
She snapped her head up, golden eyes wide with disbelief, and crashed straight into Sakuraba Ryo's smiling gaze.
Somehow, without her noticing, he had already walked over to her side and was now bending slightly at the waist, looking at her from a distance carefully measured so as not to feel oppressive.
How did he know her name?
The question exploded in her mind like thunder.
She had always thought of herself as utterly unremarkable, and her background was a mess. Even the other new students had not yet exchanged names with each other.
Far from giving her any sense of familiarity, being identified so precisely set every alarm in the defenses she had built over the years blaring at once. That icy sense of distance around her almost solidified into armor.
Sakuraba Ryo seemed not to notice the sharp wariness rising in her eyes at all. He kept the same cheerful expression and explained lightly, "No need to look so surprised. As an investor, remembering the name of every student who joins Nishikino Academy is only the bare minimum of my responsibility."
He smiled, glancing around at the other new students, who also looked slightly startled at hearing him call them by name, as if to prove the point.
"Especially you girls in the international class. You came from so far away, so I have to make an extra effort to remember you."
The explanation was entirely reasonable—more than that, it carried a sincerity that was difficult to dispute.
But not a shred of the doubt in Sunday Silence's heart faded.
Responsibility?
Effort?
In her past experience, those words were often bound up with coldness and abandonment.
Sakuraba Ryo's gaze settled back on her, and his smile seemed to deepen just a little, carrying an indescribably penetrating quality, as though it could see the confusion and anxiety hidden beneath her heavy armor.
He lowered his voice slightly and spoke clearly and slowly, so that only the two of them could hear.
"No matter what happened to you overseas, or in your past..."
There was a subtle pause there, one that seemed to contain everything.
"For now, this is your home. That's what Nishikino Academy exists for."
Home.
That word was like a perfectly shaped key, prying open the weakest crack in Sunday Silence's defenses before she could stop it.
It unexpectedly struck the deepest part of her—the part that felt exiled, unmoored, with nowhere to belong.
The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her voice was taut and dry, carrying the slightest tremor that even she herself did not notice.
"Can I really... think of this place as a home?"
The moment the question left her lips, she regretted it.
It sounded too much like weakness. Too much like a pitiful plea for reassurance.
She immediately pressed her lips tight and fixed her golden eyes on Sakuraba Ryo, trying to catch even the faintest trace of insincerity or perfunctory comfort in whatever he did next.
Sakuraba Ryo seemed a little surprised by the directness of her question. He blinked, and for the first time, a brief expression of near-blank astonishment appeared on that face that was usually lit with such easy cheer.
But that surprise lasted for less than half a second.
Then the smile on his face softened. It was no longer the bright, infectious smile from before, but something steadier, calmer, more certain.
He did not look away. He met Sunday Silence's anxious, scrutinizing eyes directly and answered with exceptional crispness, without the slightest hesitation.
"Of course you can."
His tone was plain, but it carried a weight that allowed no doubt, as though he were stating something obvious.
"That's what this place was built for."
He added that final line while his gaze shifted slightly, as though sweeping over the race scenes on the lobby wall that symbolized glory and struggle—or perhaps looking toward some deeper meaning in the academy itself.
"So just stay here without worrying, Miss Sunday Silence. At least at Nishikino Academy, you won't need to worry about being driven away for being 'trouble.'"
That last line was delivered lightly, but it landed like a stone in still water, sending layer after layer of chaotic ripples through Sunday Silence's heart.
She stood there frozen, watching Sakuraba Ryo give her a small nod before turning away and addressing the other new students in the same warm tone.
The state of mind she had kept as solid as a glacier had suddenly cracked.
As she watched the gentle smile he showed the others, she thought to herself—
He's different.
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T/N: OMG SUNDAY SILENCE WENT THROUGH THAT?? THATS SO SAD, also holy shit nishikino academy is crazy, also he's calling her Miss since they are talking in ENGLISH! LEARN HOW TO READ