Fate in First Classoooo

The Door Opens to a New World

The late afternoon sun poured its golden warmth over Algeria, bathing the streets in a soft, honeyed glow. The air smelled of earth and jasmine, with distant chatter from neighbors greeting one another. Mizuki had just returned home with Shiro, their suitcases still in the hallway, when her phone buzzed with a notification. She barely glanced at it, thinking it was another sale from her online store. She had no idea that the biggest surprise of her life was already rolling toward her neighborhood.

Far above, a sleek private jet cut through the sky, carrying Adam, his elegantly dressed mother, Charlotte with her sharp wit, Max with his endless teasing, and Leon — who, as always, looked like he wished he could disappear into his tablet.

Adam sat stiffly in his seat, his palms damp despite the cool air of the cabin. He had taken no chances — not only had he brought a massive bouquet of the rarest roses and fine Belgian chocolates, but also two gleaming Lamborghini cars, custom-wrapped in satin bows. One for Mizuki’s father, one for her mother. Because in his mind, anything less would be unworthy of the woman who had said yes.

Max leaned toward the window, smirking as the jet began its descent. “Well, brother, I must say… bringing cars as gifts is subtle. Very subtle. I’m sure her parents won’t suspect you’re trying too hard.”

Charlotte giggled softly. “Yes, Adam, very modest of you. Why stop there? Perhaps throw in a private island too.”

Adam clenched his jaw, though his ears were pink. “This isn’t about showing off. It’s about respect.”

Leon muttered under his breath, “Respect has never been this expensive.”

The family laughed, but Adam’s mother simply folded her arms and watched her son with sharp eyes. “If this is the woman who makes you forget your business, then she had better be extraordinary. I will judge her myself.”

Adam didn’t answer. He only tightened his grip on the roses and whispered inwardly: She is extraordinary.

Meanwhile, in Mizuki’s family home, the atmosphere was peaceful. Shiro sprawled on the couch, munching on roasted peanuts, while Mizuki was unpacking her luggage in her old room. The dark blue hijab she wore during travel was now replaced with a soft pastel scarf, giving her an air of gentle calm.

“Mizuki,” Shiro called between bites, “do you realize it’s been barely a week since we saw him in Tokyo? Barely a week, and you’re still blushing when I mention his name.”

Mizuki laughed softly, covering her face with her hands. “Shiro, stop. It’s ridiculous. He probably forgot about me already. He’s busy. He’s… Adam.”

Before Shiro could reply, a thunderous sound interrupted the peace. Not thunder. Engines. Expensive engines.

They both froze.

Through the window came the sight of two gleaming Lamborghini sports cars rolling down the quiet Algerian street, their polished exteriors catching the dying sunlight. Children ran after them barefoot, shouting in amazement, while neighbors peeked out of their doors in disbelief. Behind the cars came a convoy of black luxury vehicles, the kind usually reserved for royalty or movie stars.

Shiro’s mouth fell open. “Mizuki… do you… do you think—”

“No,” Mizuki cut her off, her heart hammering. “It can’t be. Not him. Not here.”

But then the first car door opened. And out stepped Adam.

Dressed in a tailored black suit that made him look like he had stepped straight out of a dream, a bouquet of roses in one hand, and a nervous yet determined look on his face, Adam gazed directly at Mizuki’s house. Behind him, Max stretched like he owned the street, Charlotte adjusted her sunglasses dramatically, and Leon shuffled awkwardly with a box of chocolates so large it looked absurd in his hands.

The entire neighborhood erupted in whispers.

Shiro slapped her forehead. “Oh my God, he really did it. He really flew here.”

Mizuki, pale with shock, whispered, “He’s insane.”

But her lips trembled with something dangerously close to a smile.

At the door, Adam’s nervousness reached its peak. He clutched the roses too tightly, nearly snapping their stems. His mother, cool and regal beside him, surveyed the modest home with an unreadable expression. Max, of course, whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t faint, brother. If you faint, I’ll take the girl for myself.”

Adam elbowed him hard.

The door creaked open. Mizuki’s father stood there, surprised at the sight of luxury cars and strangers in suits standing on his doorstep. For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then Adam bowed slightly, his voice low but steady. “Sir… my name is Adam. I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand.”

Behind the father, Mizuki appeared in the hallway, her eyes wide, her scarf slightly askew. She could barely breathe. Shiro, peeking from behind, looked as if she had walked into the c****x of her favorite romantic drama.

Adam’s words seemed to echo in the air, heavy with sincerity. And just as the tension became unbearable, Max ruined it by stepping forward, grinning. “Oh, and by the way, sir—he also brought you a Lamborghini.”

Mizuki’s father blinked. Mizuki gasped. Shiro slapped her own forehead again.

Adam turned crimson. “Max!” he hissed.

Charlotte stifled her laughter with a cough. Leon looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot.

The father raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure whether to be impressed or horrified. “A… Lamborghini?”

“Yes,” Max said proudly, clapping Adam on the back. “One for you and one for your wife. He insisted.”

Adam’s mother closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

Mizuki finally stepped forward, cheeks blazing, her heart pounding like thunder. She met Adam’s eyes — those blue, desperate eyes — and for a brief, fragile second, the chaos faded.

She smiled.

And in that smile, Adam found the courage to believe that this insanity… might just work.