One of them leaned forward, her voice half-curious, half-frustrated. “Excuse me, but why didn’t Adrian Vale have a mailbox here?”
Mira barely paid attention at first, focused on organizing her papers, but the mention of Adrian’s name caught her ear.
The admin staff, a middle-aged woman with glasses perched low on her nose, sighed as if she had answered this question one too many times. “Because Mr. Vale personally requested not to have one.”
A pause, then a collective gasp from the girls.
“Wait—why?” one of them blurted out.
The admin adjusted her glasses, glancing over the desk at the small group of students in front of her. "He’s received too many unexpected items," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. Then, with a pointed look, she added, "Most likely from students like you."
Mira, seated a short distance away, pretending to be busy flipping through her documents as she listened.
The girls exchanged embarrassed glances before one of them let out an awkward laugh. "That’s… kind of harsh."
"But fair," another muttered under her breath.
The admin merely shrugged. "If you need to give him something, you’ll have to hand it to him directly or contact him in class."
Before Mira could tune out the conversation completely, the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. She looked up just as Professor Ikeda, one of the university’s most respected faculty members, stopped beside her with his usual polite smile.
"Mira, I’m glad I found you," he said.
Mira straightened, setting her pen down neatly. "Professor Ikeda! How may I assist you?"
He took the seat next to her, his expression calm yet purposeful. "I have a rather important request, and I believe you’re the best person to help."
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She folded her hands lightly on the desk. "What would you like me to do?"
He leaned forward a little. "We’ve been given the opportunity to participate in the Tokyo Summit, and we need a representative there. However, that representative will require some logistical assistance—managing schedules, travel arrangements, and handling coordination behind the scenes."
At the word Tokyo, Mira’s eyes widened and her posture shifted forward, her pen rolling slightly under her fingertips as she instinctively reached for it again. "The Tokyo Summit?" she repeated, her voice carrying a bright note of excitement before softening back into courtesy. "That sounds like an incredible opportunity."
Ikeda smiled. "I need someone reliable, organized, and capable under pressure. You’ve done an exceptional job with past university events, and I have no doubt you’d be perfect for this."
Mira paused, fingertips tracing the edge of her notebook, curiosity bright in her eyes. "When would you need me to begin?"
"The summit will take place over the weekend. Does that work for you?"
She considered briefly, then gave a small, steady nod. "Yes, Professor, the weekend will be fine. I would be honoured to help."
His grin widened. "Wonderful. You’re going to do an excellent job. I’ll reach out with more details soon."
"I’ll look forward to your instructions," she replied warmly. "Please rest assured I will do my very best to ensure everything runs smoothly."
Ikeda gave her an approving nod. "I knew you’d be the right person for the job."
?
Mira sank into the plush seat of the first-class waiting lounge, crossing her legs as she tried to steady her nerves.
The low buzz of conversations, the occasional clink of glassware, and the soft chime of boarding announcements filled the space—sounds that should have been a comforting prelude to the long flight ahead. But none of it eased the tightness in her chest. Not when he was here.
Adrian Vale.
Adrian Vale, seated just a few seats away, exuded an effortless authority that made it impossible to ignore him. His presence was as effortless as ever—calm, unbothered, as if this was nothing more than another routine trip. As if she wasn’t sitting mere feet away, her every breath betraying the unease curling in her stomach.
Mira, on the other hand, was not calm. She was trying—desperately—to act indifferent, to pretend this was just another assignment, another flight, another day at work. But the reality was impossible to ignore. Every shift of her posture felt forced, every glance at the floor or the distant departure screens an attempt to avoid looking at him.
How had she ended up here? Trapped in the same waiting room, waiting to board the same flight, about to spend the next ten hours and three days in close proximity to the one person she had been trying to avoid?
Ikeda had made it sound simple when he’d approached her with the assignment—just another responsibility, another task to check off her list. She had agreed without hesitation, assuming it would be like any other business trip. But she hadn’t known then. Hadn’t realized that the very person she had been trying to distance herself from would be the one she’d be working alongside.
And now, there was no escaping it.