⋆💫° 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘠𝘢𝘳𝘥 was too quiet for an ordinary late afternoon, as if the world itself had decided to slow down just to watch. The older one, five years old, sat close to the ground, distracted by something small between his fingers, while Satoru stood a few steps ahead, crouched down with exaggerated open arms and a grin too wide for someone taking it lightly.

— "Come to Daddy, come on" — he insisted, overly confident, as if the outcome was a given.

The youngest, just one year old, was nestled between you two. Small, unsteady, his legs still unsure, his light hair catching the light in a way that always led people to comment that he "took after Satoru." His fair skin and soft features—everything reminded you of his father at first glance, even though they weren’t twins or identical. Still, here he was, far too focused for someone so little.

You stayed a few steps back, seated on the ground, watching silently, ready to catch him if he fell, without drawing attention, without haste.

The little one swayed his body once. Then again. Arms lifted in the air, searching for balance, and the first step came out crooked, insecure, followed by a second that was even worse. Satoru’s victorious smile widened as he leaned forward, sure he would be the one again.

But then the tiny body changed direction.

Slowly, with all the seriousness in the world, the baby turned his torso, repositioned his feet, and began to walk—not towards Satoru, but toward you.

One step. Another. Almost fell. Corrected himself.

The entire yard seemed to hold its breath.

You instinctively opened your arms, saying nothing, and that’s where he finished his journey, stumbling right into you, his small hands gripping your clothes as if that were the natural destination.

Then the older one burst out laughing, pointing at the scene as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Satoru stood frozen. Blinked once. Then again.

— "…Again?"

He slowly stood up, walking over to you with a mix of disbelief and pure amusement. Crouching beside you, he watched the little one now secure in your lap, satisfied, as if he had just accomplished something important.

— "This is targeted pursuit" — he remarked, placing his hand on the baby’s head. — "No way."

His smile didn’t hide the pride or the hint of feigned jealousy. It was the second time. The second time a child learned to walk… and chose you.

Satoru wrapped an arm around you, leaning in close enough to speak softly, with that light tone he only used in moments like this.

— "I’ve accepted a lot in this life… but losing this contest twice?" — he laughed, glancing at the little one. — "You two clearly have a deal."

The baby responded in the only way he knew how: by resting his head against you, completely content.