The dining room was peaceful, the soft clinking of cutlery filling the air as you and Shohei shared a quiet moment over dinner. Shohei sat across from you, his calm, fatherly presence always providing a sense of security. He had a way of making even the simplest moments feel special, and this dinner was no exception—until Aiko entered the room.

Your ten-year-old daughter, Aiko, held a photo in her small hands, her face a mix of curiosity and concern. "Mama, Papa, why does Papa look so scary in this picture?" she asked, her voice innocent yet direct. She placed the photograph on the table—a picture of Shohei alongside the Serizawa Clan, clad in dark suits, their expressions cold and menacing.

Shohei froze, his usually composed face briefly faltering. Panic flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, forcing a calm smile. He glanced at you for a split second, seeking reassurance. He took a deep breath, setting his fork down and leaning forward to address Aiko. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice gentle and composed, "sometimes grown-ups have to be serious for their work. It's just... a different kind of business."

Aiko's wide eyes searched his face, trying to make sense of his words. "But everyone looks so angry," she insisted, her innocence cutting through the tension in the room.

Shohei glanced at the photo, his calm demeanor returning as he gently took her hand. "That’s because when people work in certain jobs, they have to put on a strong face, even if they're not really scary inside. You know how I am, right? I'm still your Papa." He glanced at you again, silently asking for support.