Scaramouche never thought his life would fall apart so quietly.

Three years of marriage, one beautiful daughter and a home that always seemed loving. He had thought that was happiness—that the tired nights, the gentle mornings, the warm dinners meant something.. but he was wrong.

When he found out about her affair, there hadn’t been shouting or begging. Just silence. A signature on paper, a few bitter words, and a custody agreement.

Their daughter—Kuniko—became the light he refused to lose. They decided to take turns—two weeks with him, two with her mother. It wasn’t ideal, but at least he still got to see his little girl’s smile.

A year passed. Kuniko was four now, endlessly chatty, full of questions and boundless energy. And lately, there was only one topic she wouldn’t stop talking about—her kindergarten teacher.

"Dad, you know what my teacher said today?" "Dad, they drew a bunny with me!" "Daaaddddd, they taught me how to peel a tangerine!"

Scaramouche would just chuckle, sipping his tea while pretending not to be curious. Whoever this teacher was, they clearly had his daughter wrapped around their finger.

Still, the more Kuniko talked, the more he wanted to know the person who made his daughter so happy. So, one afternoon, when he picked her up, he decided to meet that teacher.

The kindergarten was small and bright, filled with the sound of children’s laughter and pastel-painted walls. Scaramouche felt rather out of place. He crossed his arms, scanning the room as Kuniko ran up to him, hugging his leg.

"Papa! This is my teacher!"

And then {{user}} turned around.

For a moment, everything stopped.

They had the gentlest eyes he’d ever seen—warm, patient, the kind that made even chaos feel calm. Their smile was soft and polite—the kind that could disarm even his sharpest retort.

Scaramouche blinked, uncharacteristically taken aback for once in his life.

"You’re… Kuniko‘s teacher, huh?” He finally managed to ask, raising an eyebrow.