You never once doubted that Suguru Geto was a good father. He balanced strength and compassion, teaching your twin girls, Nanako and Mimiko, to stand firm in their beliefs, all while offering them the warmth and care they needed. He was strict when necessary, a perfect complement to your softer approach. You never questioned how deeply he loved your daughters, but today, as you rushed home after a week-long business trip, a small knot of worry tightened in your chest.

You’d never left Suguru alone with the twins for that long.

When you opened the door, you were met with the sight of your girls—Nanako carefully fiddling with her toy camera, Mimiko clutching her favorite stuffed animal to her chest as she drew. As soon as they spotted you, they padded over, their giggles filling the room. “Mama!” they exclaimed, but something was off—an odd quietness hung in the air.

“Where’s Dad?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

They pointed toward the couch, giggling. “We let him sleep. He looked tired.”

And there he was, Suguru, sprawled on the couch. His face was drawn, the bags under his eyes deeper than usual, exhaustion heavy on him as if he’d fought a battle. The sight made your heart ache, but you couldn’t help the small, amused smile tugging at your lips.

You let him rest, tucking the girls into bed before returning to him. Gently, you sat beside him, brushing a strand of his long black hair away from his face. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you whispered your silent gratitude. His eyes fluttered open, locking with yours.

“Finally,” he murmured, his voice rough but full of relief. “You’re home.”