The air in Changi Airport buzzed with energy as a new chapter began. Under the soft glow of modern skylights and artful installations, travelers streamed from the plane. Groups ambled together toward the luggage carousel, while others dashed past in a flurry, chasing connecting flights with determined urgency. The space was alive with the hum of conversation, the distant laughter of reunited families, and the rhythmic clatter of rolling suitcases.
Mizuki stepped off the jet, and her senses were immediately caressed by the tropical warmth and a subtle hint of sea salt in the air. The airport was a visual feast—a blend of sleek modernity and nature's soft accents. Lush indoor gardens, glass facades, and art installations created an atmosphere that felt both futuristic and intimately human. As she wove through clusters of travelers, her eyes took in the myriad expressions of excitement, relief, and anticipation that defined that moment of arrival.
As she navigated through the crowd, she found herself drawn to the steady procession of passengers making their way toward the luggage carousel. There was a slow, almost meditative quality to the scene—a gentle procession punctuated by the occasional burst of hurried footsteps from those racing to catch a connecting flight. Amidst that organized chaos, every face seemed to tell a story of journeys both ending and about to begin.
Before long, a familiar voice broke through her reverie. "Are you okay?" Pablo asked as he noticed Mizuki massaging her right knee to ease the tension.
"Yeah. I was just having a little cramp from sitting too long," she replied, her voice mixing mild discomfort with quiet amusement. The flight from Amsterdam to Singapore had taken nearly 14 long hours—a stretch of time that, even with generous legroom and a comfortable seat, left her legs numb from prolonged stillness. Despite those perks, she had managed to sneak in a nap, coaxed by Pablo's gentle nagging. During that nap, it had felt as if she had suddenly acquired a protective, big-brother figure in Pablo—a thought that both amused and reassured her.
"Well, we can head straight to the apartment after we grab our luggage so you can rest," Pablo said, his tone light but practical. "Knowing our parents, our respective apartments would be spotless and fully stocked with food, drinks, and every little supply we needed."
"Right," Mizuki agreed as they joined the throng gathering around the luggage carousel. The carousel, a slow, continuous loop of colored suitcases and travel bags, churned steadily. In a matter of minutes, its rhythmic clatter signaled the arrival of their bags.
Mizuki's gaze fell on a small, pink piece of luggage that slid toward her, its size incongruous with the epic journey she'd just endured. "That is all you have?" Pablo asked, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise. The petite bag, barely larger than a carry-on, seemed more suited to a short trip than an intercontinental adventure.
"Yeah," she replied, a note of self-deprecating humor in her tone. Moments later, Pablo's own luggage appeared—a single, massive piece that must have weighed at least 35 kilograms. "Why? Is there a problem?" she inquired, more curious than concerned.
Pablo shook his head with a wry smile playing on his lips. "I was just surprised. My mom usually packs two full trolleys when we travel—even for a week." His tone carried both amusement and exasperation, hinting at the famously over-prepared Romina Rossi.
Mizuki burst out laughing, recalling a distant memory from her past life when they had a family trip to Hawaii and Romina had practically brought her entire house along. "Well, I figured I could always buy what I needed here," she explained, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "No point in lugging extra weight when I could pick it up later."
"Right. Different weather, different needs," Pablo agreed, his smile widening. He gently took her small suitcase as they weaved their way toward the exit. Their eyes met in a shared glance—a silent acknowledgment that their parents had orchestrated every detail of this journey. Outside, a sleek, black limousine waited patiently. They exchanged knowing looks; if their parents were setting them up, they would do so with an almost meticulous determination. And yes, a warm meal waiting in their new apartment was part of the grand plan.
"Let's go," Pablo said as he handed over his luggage to the waiting chauffeur. With a courteous gesture, he opened the car door for Mizuki and climbed into the limousine. The vehicle glided away, leaving behind the vibrant pulse of Changi Airport and heading toward a new beginning.
The ride to Gemini Bay Residences was quiet and contemplative, as the cityscape of Singapore unfolded outside in a dazzling display of modernity and natural beauty. Towering skyscrapers and lush waterfront promenades signaled the promise of luxury and opportunity. As the limousine neared the upscale high-rise, Mizuki felt a thrill of anticipation.
Upon arrival at the gleaming building in the heart of Marina Bay, they were greeted by a courteous concierge who promptly handed over keys and important documents. The duo took a private elevator up to their new abode, the soft hum of the machinery blending with their growing excitement.
Inside, the penthouse unit was a vision of minimalist elegance. The color scheme was gentle on the eyes—warm wood tones, crisp whites, and soft peach hues flowed seamlessly across the space. The open layout reminded her of a cherished past; back in her previous life, that very floor had been a cherished home. Now, although she occupied only half of it, the familiar ambiance brought a sense of quiet comfort. Three spacious rooms offered versatility—a dedicated office space could easily be carved out—and expansive windows ensured that the breathtaking view of Marina Bay was never out of sight.
The apartment felt meticulously curated; every piece of furniture and decorative detail spoke of understated luxury and thoughtful design. It was evident that every inch of the space had been carefully maintained, a testament to her parents' unwavering commitment. As Mizuki wandered from room to room, she silently appreciated the quiet sophistication that the penthouse exuded—a stark contrast to her former room in the Netherlands, which now seemed like a distant memory.
Later that evening, as dusk settled over the city, Mizuki sat comfortably in the living area of her new home with her phone pressed to her ear. The soft ambient lighting of the penthouse and the soothing interior tones created an atmosphere of calm, though the conversation on the line promised to disrupt that calm, even if only for a moment.
"Mom, you and Dad should really quit," Mizuki complained, her tone mixing playful exasperation with genuine affection.
On the other end, Kai's voice came through, light and teasing. "Quit what?" Kai asked, a hint of suppressed laughter coloring her words and making Mizuki roll her eyes.
"Oh, you know what I'm talking about," Mizuki insisted, her voice taking on a determined edge. Having had a refreshing nap earlier, she now felt brimming with energy—ready to spar with her parents about their latest well-intentioned matchmaking antics.
After a pause, Kai laughed softly. "Oh, come on, Mimi—it wasn't like we got you two married. It was just a little something we did to put our minds at ease."
Before Mizuki could retort, another familiar voice joined in. "That's right," Caleb chimed in, revealing that her parents had merged their calls into a speakerphone session. "At least you had someone you knew there. You weren't completely alone."
Mizuki's tone softened slightly as she warned, "Well, as long as you're not asking for something more." Though her words carried a hint of jest, they were laced with the underlying reality of her parents' hopes. Deep down, she knew they still harbored a small, persistent hope that, as neighbors and friends, Pablo might eventually step into the role of a loving partner—just as he had once done in a previous life. But for Mizuki, who had already experienced that chapter, there was no chance of history repeating itself. She was determined to let her parents believe what they wanted, as long as they didn't push her into a future she wasn't ready for.
"Of course, darling. We wouldn't do anything else as long as you are safe. We'd let fate take its course," promised Kai, though her voice betrayed an unashamedly hopeful tone that made Mizuki roll her eyes once again.
Fate—a concept as enigmatic as it was inevitable. Mizuki mused that her fate was never meant to be tied to Pablo. Somewhere out there, the other end of her red thread of destiny awaited, but with so many things demanding her attention, she wasn't ready to seek it out just yet. For now, she embraced the freedom of her current path.
Settling deeper into a plush armchair in the living room, Mizuki allowed herself a moment to absorb the warmth of the penthouse. The space—with its gentle interplay of wood, white, and peach—became her sanctuary, a home that felt both familiar and entirely new. The large windows framed a breathtaking view of Marina Bay, where the glittering lights of the city reflected off the water like scattered stars. It was a view that promised endless possibilities, a daily reminder that life was ever-changing and full of surprises.
As she sat there, a gentle smile tugged at her lips. Between the efficient choreography of the airport, the reassuring presence of Pablo, and the promise of a meticulously prepared home, Mizuki felt a surge of optimism. That new beginning, as daunting as it might have been, was also filled with opportunities—opportunities to rediscover herself, to explore the vibrant pulse of Singapore, and perhaps, to redefine what fate really meant.
For now, the red thread of destiny remained untangled, leaving Mizuki free to write her own story—one step at a time, one day at a time, in a place where every sunrise brought the promise of new horizons.