THE FIRST TIME DADDY

FIRST DAY, HIDDEN PLANS

First Day and Hidden Plans

The morning sun shone brightly over the city as Max parked his car outside their small but cozy apartment complex. Kota, now five years old, was seated in the backseat, kicking his legs excitedly. He wore his brand-new school uniform, his tiny backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Are you ready for your first day of school, buddy?" Max asked, turning around to look at his son.

Kota nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh! I'm gonna make lots of friends!"

Max chuckled, his heart swelling with pride and a tinge of nostalgia. It felt like just yesterday Kota was barely learning to talk, and now he was starting school. "That's my boy. Remember what we talked about, okay? Be kind, share, and listen to your teacher."

"Okay, Daddy!" Kota replied with a wide grin.

Max started the car and pulled out onto the street. As they drove toward the school, Kota pointed out things he found interesting-a dog walking with its owner, a colorful mural on the side of a building, a bird perched on a lamppost. His excitement was contagious, and Max found himself smiling the entire ride.

When they arrived at the school, the yard was bustling with children and parents. Max parked the car and helped Kota out, kneeling down to adjust his son's backpack straps.

"Okay, champ," Max said, his voice soft. "This is a big step for you. Are you nervous?"

Kota shook his head confidently. "Nope! I'm brave like a superhero!"

Max laughed, ruffling his son's hair. "That's the spirit."

Kota hugged his dad tightly, his small arms wrapping around Max's neck. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Kota," Max said, holding him close. "Now go show the world what you're made of."

Kota beamed and ran toward the school entrance, waving back at Max before disappearing inside. Max stayed for a moment, watching the door with a bittersweet smile.

---

The scene shifted to a luxurious hotel suite, where the morning was quiet and polished. The suite, with its sprawling windows and elegant furnishings, belonged to Saki-Kota's biological mother and Max's former partner.

Saki stood by the window, gazing out at the city skyline. Her life was one of luxury and excess, but her expression was far from content. Behind her, a man in his late thirties sat on the edge of the bed, holding a piece of paper in his hands. His face was etched with disappointment and frustration.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, crumpling the paper. "Why does it have to be me?"

Saki turned away from the window and approached him. "It's not your fault," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't give you what you want," he said bitterly. "What kind of man does that make me?"

"Stop it," Saki said firmly, her voice tinged with both compassion and resolve. "You're more than enough for me."

He looked up at her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But the legacy..."

"We'll figure it out," Saki said, her tone soothing. "There's always a way."

A flicker of an idea crossed her mind, and her expression shifted ever so slightly. "I think I know what to do," she added, stepping away from him and grabbing her phone from the bedside table.

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Trust me," she said, her voice calm but calculated. "I'll take care of everything."

Saki left the room and made her way to the balcony, dialing a number she hadn't used in years. The line rang a few times before someone picked up on the other end.

"I need to meet with you," Saki said, her voice low and purposeful. "It's important."

The voice on the other end was hesitant but eventually agreed.

Saki hung up, her fingers tightening around the phone as she stared out over the city. She had made her decision, and there was no turning back now.

Inside the suite, her partner remained seated on the bed, oblivious to the plan forming in her mind.

The scene ended with Saki glancing over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. The identity of the person she called remained a mystery, as did her true intentions.

---

Meanwhile, a plane ticket rested on her bedside table, the destination scribbled in small print-another hint of the storm that was about to unfold.