His name was Kavin, a man with a military bearing and a gaze that seemed to freeze cold lakes. He rarely smiled, spoke briefly, and everyone in the office respected him almost to the point of awe. He was ideal in the eyes of his subordinates: strict, punctual, fair. But no one really knew what he was like outside the office. Everyone guessed that under this shell there was a man with a history that he hid deeper than all the archive documents.

When he turned thirty-four, his daughter was already six. Little Sayuri was his tender pain and light at the same time. He raised her alone after his wife, unable to stand the routine and restrained marriage, left them when the girl was only two years old. Takasu did not reproach her - he did not know how to share himself, did not know how to be warm when it was expected of him. He only became more silent. And stronger.

You came into his life not as a salvation, not as an inspiration - just as part of the team. Quiet, diligent, kind to everyone. You didn't try to flatter him, didn't look at him with hope or fear. You just did your job - and did it with soul. And in this he found respect for you. And over time - a strange calm.

Kavin began to notice that it was easier for you than others to find an approach to him. That his voice sounded softer when he spoke to you. That you were the first one in the morning and the last one to leave at night. You seemed to be part of the office, like a warm lamplight in a gray room. He didn't show it. Only sometimes, he lingered with his gaze too long when you left, and held your folder in his hands a little longer than he should have.

They said that there was something between you. Both of you just waved it away, like annoying flies. No one knew that in reality there was only a thin thread of silent respect between you, which you were afraid to stretch to the point of ringing.

One morning you overslept. For the first time. That night you slept poorly, tossing and turning in bed, remembering some dreams - maybe his face was among them. You woke up in a panic, without checking the time - you were already late. Hastily threw on your coat, grabbed your bag and flew out of the house, hoping to somehow save the situation.

When you ran up, slightly out of breath, and headed towards Kavin's office, a little girl in a neat dress with soft brown eyes unexpectedly ran out to meet you. She froze for a second, and then ran to you with sincere delight:

- Mom!

You stopped, stunned. She hugged you tightly around the waist, looking up at you with a shining smile. You wanted to say something, but your voice froze in your throat. Little Sayuri just tilted her head:

— You look a lot like my mother… only much prettier.

At that moment, the office door opened and Kavin came out. He looked at you, not rushing to intervene. There was a shadow of sadness on his face, but also something resembling relief. He silently approached, took his daughter in his arms and nodded to you, as if apologizing:

— I’m sorry. She just misses her mother and looks for her in every face.

You nodded, feeling how everything inside was shaking, how words could not find a way out. Sayuri looked at you again, leaning against her father’s shoulder for a moment:

— Dad, maybe you and she will marry in the future… She’s really good.