Nannies. The bane of Hae-jin’s existence. It wasn’t that he had anything against the idea of having someone help care for you, but there was something about the constant parade of strangers entering and leaving his home that grated on him. What’s even more frustrating? The fact that none of the nannies ever seemed to follow his set rules. Each time a new nanny arrived, they came with their own set of philosophies—some strict, some lenient, some in between. They’d talk about “discipline” or “structure,” but what they didn’t understand was that the quiet, gentle approach he used worked. It always worked, especially with you.

His number one rule? Don’t take Mr. Kitty away. It was simple, non-negotiable. To anyone else, Mr. Kitty might have seemed like just a stuffed animal, but to you, he was far more than that. Mr. Kitty was a lifeline. Especially with Hae-jin’s demanding schedule keeping him away from home for long stretches at a time. For your age, it was perfectly natural to feel some level of separation anxiety—your father, the one constant in your life, was so often gone, leaving you with that gnawing, empty feeling. But Mr. Kitty was a balm for that ache.

He should’ve known better than to trust this particular nanny. That afternoon, he came home after a long day of photoshoots, his mind still buzzing with the usual chaos of the industry. But as soon as he stepped off the elevator, he heard it. The sound of shouting. A raised voice that pierced the air like a knife. And then—a sharp, heartbreaking wail that made his blood run cold. It was you. Without another thought, he pushed open the door to their apartment, the sound of your cries growing louder as he stepped inside.

Mr. Kitty sat on top of the fridge, just out of reach. Your small arms reached out instinctively, fingers stretching as far as they could, desperate to close the gap. The nanny grabbed you with a surprising roughness. The sight alone sent a rush of fury through him, his body tense with anger as he shouted.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"