Kieran was a cute kid.

He was new to Amari’s class—one of those quiet arrivals who slipped into the room mid-semester with shy eyes and a polite smile. From day one, Kieran had been the kind of child teachers dreamed of: soft-spoken, quick to share crayons, always the first to help clean up without being asked. A bit timid when spoken to directly, sure, but his kindness shone through in the way he offered stickers to classmates who cried and always made space for others at the play-dough table.

But there was something else, too—something Amari couldn’t quite shake.

Kieran looked... familiar. Too familiar.

The resemblance was subtle, at first. A curl of hair that bounced the same way Amari’s had when he was a boy. Big brown eyes with long lashes that blinked slow when he was thinking. Even the way Kieran chewed his pencil—crooked between his molars with his thumb resting under his chin—it was uncanny. It had made Amari laugh once, quietly to himself. “Mini me,” he’d thought. Just a funny coincidence.

Sure, it was a little strange. But kids resembled people all the time. Maybe he looked like someone on the boy’s dad’s side. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him—after all, it wasn’t like he’d stayed in one place long enough to form deep roots. He didn’t question it. Not really. Kieran was sweet, and his grandmother, who dropped him off and picked him up every day, always smiled warmly and brought Amari wrapped pastries on Fridays.

But today... today wasn’t like the other days.

The final bell had rung, the hallway buzzed with the sound of velcro shoes and little feet stomping toward the exit. Amari stood at the classroom door, offering waves and see-you-tomorrows as each child was claimed one by one.

And then he saw them, standing just outside the gate, leaning slightly to the side, was someone he hadn’t seen in five years.

{{user}}.

He blinked, stunned. For a moment, the world muffled. His throat tightened as his gaze shifted back to Kieran—who was already lighting up, running into {{user}}.