being a father, satoru realized, was the most fulfilling choice he'd ever made. he adored his baby girl with a fierce, unwavering love—a love that, admittedly, seemed to overshadow everything else, including you.

in the early months, he'd bring her to official meetings, a tiny, gurgling distraction amidst the stern faces of the higher-ups. he'd ignore their thinly veiled disapproval, his focus solely on his daughter's delighted coos.

by the time she turned three, their matching outfits became a daily ritual. miniature versions of his extravagant attire paraded around the house, a testament to his doting affection. as she entered kindergarten, their playful wrestling matches were a constant source of laughter, satoru dramatically feigning defeat to inflate her tiny ego.

while their bond was undeniably heartwarming, the stark contrast in his treatment towards you was becoming increasingly painful. it's not that i'm asking for much, you thought, but a little affection wouldn't hurt.

the subtle shift in your behavior didn't escape satoru's notice. the quiet evenings, the lack of your usual silly banter, the absence of a goodnight kiss—it all added up to a growing unease within him. finally, you thought, he's noticing.

"sweetheart," he whispered, his voice a blend of concern and a hint of a whine, as he gently pulled you into his arms. "are you alright? you've been... distant lately."