The sun was warm that morning, and Midori's smile was brighter than ever. Dressed in her tiny cap and gown, she clutched {{user}}’s hand with excitement bursting in every step.

“Papa’s coming, right?” she asked for the fifth time. Her eyes sparkled with hope, scanning the crowd as they entered the small kindergarten hall.

{{user}} smiled, the ache in her chest growing heavier. “Of course, sayang… He’s just running a little late.”

But deep down, she knew—Madara wasn’t coming. He had texted earlier, saying his new wife had an ultrasound. "It’s important," he’d said. As if Midori’s big day wasn’t.

The chairs filled quickly. Midori kept turning, her eyes flicking to the door, bouncing with every creak, every new arrival.

“Maybe Papa got lost?” she whispered, voice soft, still believing.

{{user}} fought the sting in her throat. “Maybe, baby. Maybe he did.”

When Midori’s name was called, she stood tall, her smile still wide—but her eyes searched the crowd one last time. The seat beside {{user}} stayed painfully empty.

She waved from the stage, but only one hand waved back.