Fate in First Classoooo

the news

The moment Mizuki’s trembling hand slipped a folded piece of paper into Adam’s palm, the entire world seemed to tilt on its axis. Her handwriting was neat, careful, as though she’d been holding her breath when she wrote it.

“This is… my parents’ address,” she whispered, her eyes darting anywhere but his. “If you’re serious about this, Adam… then go there. Speak to them. Only then will it be real.”

For a long heartbeat, Adam simply stared at the paper, his fingers tightening around it as though it were the most precious thing he had ever held. His heart thundered, wild and unrelenting, like a man who had been given the key to the rest of his life.

“Mizuki,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with an emotion he could barely control. “You’ve just given me the most important gift of my life.”

Shiro was practically bouncing beside her friend, eyes sparkling like she had just witnessed the c****x of her favorite drama. Leon, meanwhile, buried his face in his hands, muttering something along the lines of, “Dear God, here we go again.”

But Adam had already made his decision. Right there, in that hotel, in front of everyone.

“Cancel everything,” he barked suddenly, his tone shifting from love-struck to commanding, the way a man used to running empires would. He turned toward Leon, whose head snapped up in disbelief.

“Cancel what?” Leon blinked, his jaw slack.

“Everything,” Adam repeated, his eyes still fixed on Mizuki, his expression burning with determination. “Every meeting, every deal, every dinner. I don’t care if the company burns to the ground. I’m flying to Algeria today.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. “A-Adam, what? Today? Isn’t that a bit—”

“No,” he cut her off gently but firmly, his lips curving into a grin that was equal parts charming and reckless. “I won’t waste another moment. What if you change your mind tomorrow? What if you regret saying yes? I can’t risk that. I’ll stand before your parents, Mizuki, and I’ll tell them everything. I’ll make this real.”

The sincerity in his voice stole her breath. For a second, Mizuki didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Shiro clapped her hands together dramatically, her voice squealing with delight. “Oh, this is so romantic! He’s going to fly across countries for you, Mizuki! I swear, I’m living inside a drama!”

Leon groaned, slumping in his chair. “This is madness,” he said, his accent dragging the word out. “Do you realize how many contracts you’re about to blow up in smoke? Do you realize the board will kill me for allowing this?”

Adam shot him a sharp, amused glance. “Then tell the board I’ve found something more important than business. Tell them… I’ve found my future.”

Leon gawked, speechless, before muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable. He’s actually doing this.”

By the time breakfast was cleared, Adam’s mind was already soaring thousands of feet above Tokyo. His private jet, sleek and silver, was waiting in Germany. He had already summoned his pilot, already sent word that preparations should be made.

And then, with a boyish grin that made her heart tumble all over again, he added, “Besides… if I delay even one day, her friend (shiro) will probably drag me to Algeria herself.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Shiro laughed, throwing her head back dramatically. “I will gladly go with you and make sure you kneel in front of her father like a proper gentleman!”

Mizuki buried her face in her hands, mortified, though her smile betrayed her. Her heart was fluttering so fast it hurt. She could not believe this was happening—her quiet trip to Japan had spiraled into a love story that felt too wild, too passionate, too impossible to be real. And yet… it was.

By afternoon, Adam had packed. Leon, still grumbling, had called off every single meeting with excuses ranging from “unforeseen emergencies” to “personal obligations,” though he muttered all the while about resigning as Adam’s assistant.

But Adam? He was unstoppable. The image of Mizuki’s soft smile, her trembling “yes,” and the slip of paper with her parents’ address burned like fire in his chest.

Hours later, as the Tokyo skyline glittered beneath the fading sunset, Adam’s car sped toward the airport. Leon sat beside him, arms folded, sulking like a man who had lost all control of his life.

“This is absurd,” Leon muttered for the hundredth time. “You don’t even know if her parents will accept you.”

Adam’s jaw tightened, but his grin didn’t falter. “Then I’ll make them accept me. Because I will not let Mizuki slip away.”

In the hotel, Mizuki stood by the window of her suite, her hijab softly draped, her reflection painted in the glass. Her heart twisted with anxiety, with fear, but also with something she couldn’t name—a fragile, tender hope.

Shiro leaned against the bed, hugging a pillow, her eyes dreamy. “Do you realize, Mizuki, that this might be the beginning of the greatest story of your life?”

Mizuki pressed her hand against the cool glass, her lips curving into a quiet smile. “Yes,” she whispered, almost to herself. “And it terrifies me.”

after hours

The roar of the private jet faded into silence as Adam stepped onto German soil once again. For most men, returning home after a business trip meant rest, routine, and stability. For Adam, it meant war. Not a war of bullets or blades, but one of family expectations, tradition, and love.

Clutching the small slip of paper Mizuki had given him, Adam’s heart raced with a purpose that eclipsed every business empire he’d ever built. This is real, he thought. She said yes. And I will make sure no one stands in the way.

Leon trailed after him, dragging his suitcase like a condemned man. His expression was the portrait of exhaustion, disbelief, and the silent scream of an assistant who had signed up for meetings—not melodramatic love quests. “You realize,” Leon muttered, “that you’re about to walk into the lion’s den with this, yes?”

Adam smirked, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed his nerves. “Then let the lions roar. I’ll tame them, one by one.”

The family mansion stood ahead like a palace from another century—tall pillars, manicured gardens, and windows glowing in the twilight. The air smelled faintly of roses . For the first time in years, Adam felt like an intruder in his own home.

Inside, his mother sat in the grand salon, draped elegantly in a pearl-grey dress, a glass of juice. She was speaking to her friend—a sharp-eyed woman whose presence always reminded Adam of icy winters. They both looked up as Adam entered.

“Adam,” his mother said, rising with a smile that was more curiosity than warmth. “You’re back earlier than expected. Did the meetings in Japan finish so soon?”

Her friend added, “Or did you finally come to your senses and realize it’s time to settle down?”

Adam inhaled deeply, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Now or never.

“I came back,” he said firmly, stepping into the room, “to tell you that I’ve met the woman I will marry.”

The words hung in the air like a storm about to break.

His mother blinked. Then laughed softly, as though she hadn’t heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” Adam pressed. His hands tightened at his sides, his entire being trembling with a strange mix of fear and exhilaration. “Her name is Mizuki. She’s Algerian. She lives in Germany, runs a café and a restaurant, and—”

His mother’s smile vanished, replaced with a cold, measured stare. “An Algerian? Adam, you cannot be serious. You don’t even know this girl.”

“I know enough,” Adam shot back, his voice sharper now, his eyes blazing with a rare fire. “I know that she is kind. That she is honest. That she makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before.”

His mother set down her glass with a loud clink. “This is madness. You don’t make life decisions on a whim. I already told you—Greta, my friend’s daughter, she is perfect for you. You’ve known her since childhood. She comes from a family of equal standing. She would make an ideal wife.”

Adam’s chest tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t want Greta. I don’t love her.”

At that moment, Leon—who had been silently observing by the door—cleared his throat, his expression wry. “For what it’s worth, Mrs. Bauer… he’s not joking. He’s been talking about Mizuki non-stop for a week. I’ve heard her name more times than my own. If he isn’t serious, then I don’t know what serious is.”

His mother turned her glare toward Leon, as though the assistant had betrayed her personally. “You encouraged this?”

Leon raised his hands defensively. “On the contrary, I tried everything to discourage it. He doesn’t listen.”

The salon door burst open then, and a maid entered with a phone in hand. “Madam, it’s the master—he’s calling from Canada.”

Adam’s mother took the phone, her lips tightening. A few moments later, she held it out to Adam. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

Adam took it, his throat dry. “Father?”

“Adam.” His father’s deep voice rumbled through the receiver, carrying both authority and fatigue. “Leon sent me word. Is it true? You’re planning to marry a woman none of us have ever met?”

“Yes,” Adam answered without hesitation. “It’s true.”

There was silence on the line. Then, unexpectedly, a low chuckle. “I’m surprised. For years, you refused every suitor, every introduction, every suggestion. You said marriage was a distraction. And now, suddenly, you’re ready to throw away everything for this girl?”

Adam’s jaw set. “Not throw away—build. With her.”

His father sighed heavily. “You sound like a man possessed. Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Adam glanced at Mizuki’s address, still tucked safely in his pocket. He smiled faintly. “For the first time in my life, yes.”

Back in the salon, his mother’s face had hardened into marble. “This isn’t happening,” she said coldly. “I will not allow it. If you walk this path, Adam, you will do it without my blessing.”

Adam’s chest ached, but he stood taller, his voice unshaken. “Then so be it. I don’t need blessings. I need her.”

Shocked silence followed, broken only by Leon muttering under his breath: “Well, there goes family dinner forever.”

Adam ignored him. He turned, his steps resolute, leaving behind the glittering salon, the pearls, , and the suffocating weight of his mother’s expectations. For the first time, he wasn’t running from responsibility. He was running toward love.

As he strode down the long marble hallway, he whispered under his breath, “Hold on, Mizuki. I’m coming for you.”