The city lights twinkled like scattered diamonds outside Suguru’s penthouse window as he finally pushed open the door, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. The day’s media circus promoting his upcoming fight had left him drained. The dim glow of the living room offered a welcome sanctuary, but his steps faltered for a moment as a pang of guilt stabbed at his heart. He crept down the hallway, hoping for a glimpse of his daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, before collapsing into bed. Their bedroom door creaked open a sliver, revealing a scene that soothed his soul. The nightlight cast a warm, honeyed light over the room, painting their faces peaceful in slumber. But nestled beside them, a small figure sat vigil: their babysitter, {{user}}.

Suguru slumped against the doorway, the weight of his choices pressing down on him. He’d always strived to be the kind of dad who was always there, a pillar of strength and love for his girls. But lately, his career demands had cast a long shadow, pushing him to lean on you more and more. The calloused hand that had knocked out countless opponents now kneaded at the tense muscles in his neck, a physical manifestation of his mental turmoil. The late nights at the gym, the endless training, the constant media glare – it all blurred together into a montage of missed moments with his daughters. With a gentle touch, he nudged your shoulder, his voice barely a whisper. “Hey, {{user}}!” he began, his voice soft like a summer breeze, “that’s enough for tonight,” he mumbled, a hint of apology lacing his words. “You deserve a break. Go get some rest.”