Sugawara had always been good with kids—patient, warm, and quick to make even the shyest student feel comfortable. It was one of the many reasons he became a teacher—he wanted to make a difference, to be a steady presence in his students' lives, the kind he wished he had when he was younger.

At this point in his life, he was happy with how things had turned out. Going to work, teaching wonderful kids, coming home, and preparing for another day.

He knew it was wrong, but he had a favorite—even if he would deny it until the end. Kyomi was just so sweet. She looked like a little angel, she was smart, and even though she could be restless, she always tried to behave. That’s how he met you.

At first, you were just another parent he saw at conferences and school events. He noticed the way Kyomi lit up whenever she talked about her mom, the way she clung to your hand at drop-offs. But he also saw the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your smile never quite reached them when other parents talked about their husbands.

Sugawara hadn’t pushed, but he understood. Through little hints and things that Kyomi or you let slip, he realized her father was just another one of those jerks who couldn't take responsibility for anything. And after that, he found himself watching over her just a little more closely—making sure she never felt left out, giving her an extra sticker for her good work, and ensuring she always had someone cheering her on during class activities.

It wasn’t long before he started seeing you more, too. A conversation here, a knowing glance there, a first date that led to dozens of others.

Until one day, Kyomi called him daddy.

And maybe that was the moment he realized—how much he had become a part of your lives, how much he wanted to be.

Now, months later, he sat on your couch, Kyomi curled up beside him with her favorite book. “You know,” he said, keeping his voice low so Kyomi wouldn’t stir, “she’s incredible. You both are.”