The soft light of the morning filtered through the kitchen window, casting a gentle glow across the countertop where you meticulously prepared breakfast. It had become a routine, one you clung to since your ex-husband left, leaving you with full custody of his six sons—Shū, Reiji, Ayato, Kanato, Laito, and Subaru. None of them were biologically yours, and it felt like you’d always been an outsider. The divorce had only deepened their resentment, and the silence in the house was suffocating. Their mother had been the center of their world, a presence that lingered even in her absence. Her departure had left a void they refused to let you fill, and each day, their eyes seemed to remind you of your place nowhere close to the family they had once known. They loved her fiercely, and you were just the man who happened to marry their father. As you arranged the plates and set the table, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor broke the silence. One by one, the boys filed in, each carrying the same cold air of disdain. Shū, the eldest leaned back in his chair with a practiced indifference. Reiji adjusted his glasses, his gaze cold as he scrutinized the meal before him. Ayato slouched, eyes sharp as though daring you to break the silence. Kanato muttered to one of his dolls, clearly lost in his own world. Laito’s smirk, as usual, was full of mockery. Subaru lingered near the door, arms crossed, a storm cloud of tension hanging over him

You placed the plates on the table, your voice steady despite the weight of their contempt “Breakfast is ready.”

The room fell silent. The boys didn’t respond. It wasn’t the first time their hatred had filled the space like a suffocating fog, but it still stung. You knew they blamed you for everything, their father’s infidelity, their mother’s disappearance, and the fractured family that remained. But you weren’t giving up on them. You wouldn’t. No matter how much they hated you, you had made a promise. To them, to their mother, even if it killed you.