Chapter Text
[Tokyo, May 2026]
It’s a rainy Tuesday evening. Euijoo is rushing to the Kodomoen for pick-up, balancing a work laptop and broken umbrella. The sound of May's rain hitting the roof feels deafening as Euijoo stands in the hallway, his umbrella dripping uselessly onto his shoes.
Harua is missing.
Euijoo dropped his laptop bag on the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Fuma’s face was pale, his eyes darting toward the empty cubbies.
Fuma has checked the supply closets for the third time. "Euijoo, I’m so sorry. I was helping another kid in the washroom, and I thought Harua was just behind the bookshelf like usual. It’s only been ten minutes, he couldn't have gone far."
But to Euijoo, ten minutes is an eternity.
Is he outside? In the rain?
Did someone take him? He doesn't even talk to strangers—he would be terrified.
It’s because I stayed late to finish that logistics report. If I had been ten minutes earlier, he’d be in my arms.
"Harua!" Euijoo calls out, his voice cracking. He ignores the wet hem of his trousers and runs through the puddles. His shoes soaking through, the broken rib of his umbrella poking uselessly into the wind. I’m a bad father, the thought looped in his head like a cruel mantra. I worked too late. I wasn't here fast enough. He’s scared and alone and it’s my fault.
Euijoo sprints out into the drizzle, his heart hammering against his ribs. He rounds the corner toward his apartment’s playground—just next to the kodomoen building.
By the time he reached the apartment complex playground, Euijoo’s lungs were burning. The slides were slick with rain, and the swings were swaying emptily. He was on the verge of a breakdown, his eyes stinging with tears, when a small, muffled voice cut through the sound of the downpour.
"Eomma?"
Euijoo spun around so fast he nearly tripped. There, sitting under the plastic roof of the play-fort, was Harua. But he wasn't alone. He was tucked firmly into the arms of a man wearing a vibrant, oversized denim jacket, a beanie and expensive designer jeans which seemed to be getting soaked in a puddle.
Euijoo’s heart did a strange double-take. Harua—who screamed if a cashier looked at him too long—was leaning his head against this stranger’s chest, clutching a small, glowing keychain.
"Harua!" Euijoo lunged forward, practically snatching the four-year-old out of the stranger's grip. He held his son so tight the boy let out a small oomph. Sensing the panic in Euijoo’s voice, Harua buries his face deep into Euijoo’s neck, sobbing instantly now that his safe person is around.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Euijoo sobbed into Harua's hair, checking his arms and legs for any scratches then quickly calmed himself and Harua. Only after he was sure Harua was safe and sound did he look up at the stranger, his expression a mix of defensive fatherly instinct and sheer exhaustion.
The stranger didn't look offended. Instead, he stood up slowly, offering a warm, lopsided smile that seemed to brighten the gloomy evening.
"Hey, easy there," the man said. His voice was deep but incredibly gentle. "I’m Nicholas. I found him near the main gate of the school. He looked like he was trying to find his way home, but he got turned around by the rain. He wouldn't tell me his name at first, but he pointed at this playground and said 'Mama is here.'"
Nicholas reached out, but hesitated, keeping a respectful distance. "He was shivering, so I picked him up to keep him warm. He's a brave little guy. He didn't cry once before."
Euijoo looked down at Harua. The toddler wasn't reaching for the stranger anymore, but he wasn't hiding his face either. He was just watching Nicholas with wide, curious eyes.
"Thank you," Euijoo managed to choke out, his grip on Harua finally loosening as the adrenaline began to fade. "I... I don't know what I would have done. I'm Euijoo, his dad. And he is Harua. I'm so sorry if he was a burden."
"No burden at all," Nicholas laughed, a bright, melodic sound. He pulled a small camera from his pocket and tucked it away. "Actually, he’s the best company I’ve had all day. You have a great kid, Euijoo-san."
The rain began to pick up again, a heavy curtain falling over the playground. Nicholas notices Euijoo’s broken umbrella and offers to walk them home. Euijoo refuses at first but Nicholas points out that Harua is already shivering again and getting soaked might make it worse. Euijoo yielded.
The walk to the building was short, but the silence between the two men was filled with the heavy drumming of rain against Nicholas’s large, sturdy umbrella. Euijoo felt a strange prickle of embarrassment; he was a 30-year-old man being escorted home like a lost child, yet the way Nicholas held the umbrella—tilting it almost entirely over Euijoo and Harua—made it hard to stay defensive.
When they finally reached the dry, brightly lit lobby of the apartment building, Euijoo breathed a sigh of relief. He puts down Harua, then bowing as deeply as he could while signaling his four-year-old son to do the same.
"Thank you again, Nicholas-san. We can take it from here. Please, get home safely before the rain gets worse."
Nicholas smiled, stepping back to close his umbrella. "No problem at all. Get him into a warm bath, okay?"
But as Nicholas turned to leave, the sleeve of his denim jacket caught. Euijoo looked down, mortified. Harua’s tiny, pale fist was clenched tightly around Nicholas’s cuff.
"Harua-chan," Euijoo whispered, his face flushing. "Let go of the nice uncle. We have to go upstairs now."
Harua didn't move. He didn't cry or scream; he just stood there with his lips pressed in a thin line, his knuckles white from the strength of his grip. It was a silent, stubborn rebellion that Euijoo had never seen before—especially not toward a stranger.
"Harua, please," Euijoo pleaded, his voice cracking with exhaustion. "You’re shivering. Appa needs to get you warm. Let go so uncle can go home."
Nicholas looked from the tiny hand to Euijoo’s panicked face. He knelt down so he was at eye level with the toddler.
"Hey, little explorer," Nicholas said softly, his warmth radiating even in the sterile lobby. "If I walk you all the way to your door, will you let me go then? I promise I won't disappear into thin air."
Harua looked at Nicholas, then at his dad, and finally back at the denim sleeve. He didn't let go, but he took a small step toward the elevator.
"I’ll just... walk you to your unit," Nicholas said to Euijoo with a sheepish grin. "Just in case he needs a little more time to say goodbye."
The elevator ride was challenging. Nicholas tried everything—making small finger puppets with his free hand, humming a low, catchy tune, and even telling a joke about a cat in a raincoat. Harua watched him with an intensity that was almost unnerving, his grip never wavering until the elevator chimed at their floor.
They stood in front of Unit 520. As Euijoo fumbled with his keycard, the tension in Harua’s hand finally vanished. He let go of the denim jacket and tucked his hand back into his own pocket, looking at the floor.
"There we go," Nicholas exhaled, looking more relieved than he wanted to admit. He didn't just rush away, though. He bent down one last time, offering a pinky finger toward Harua.
"Good job being brave today, Harua-chan. Next time, wait for Papa inside the school, okay?"
To Euijoo’s absolute shock, Harua didn't flinch. He didn't hide behind Euijoo's leg. He slowly reached out and gave Nicholas’s hand a tiny, fleeting squeeze before retreating.
Nicholas stood up and turned to Euijoo, his expression turning polite and professional. "He’s an amazing kid, Euijoo-san. Take care of that cold. Have a good night."
With a final, friendly wave, Nicholas headed back toward the elevator, leaving Euijoo standing at his door, clutching his son and wondering how a total stranger had managed to breach Harua’s fortress in less than an hour.
.
The warm water and the steam of the bathroom finally began to melt away the day’s icy tension. Euijoo sat in the tub with Harua, the scent of lavender bubble bath filling the air. As he gently lathered Harua’s hair, the lecture he’d prepared—the one about the dangers of wandering off—came out much softer than intended.
"Harua-chan," Euijoo said, his voice low and steady. "Please, don't ever leave the school gates alone again. Appa was so scared... and Fuma-sensei was crying too. If you can't find Appa, you stay with sensei, okay?"
Harua looked down at the bubbles, his tiny shoulders slumped. "Gomenne, Eomma," he mumbled, popping a bubble with his finger. "No Taki-chan. Rain was big and loud. I want to go home."
He looked up, his eyes wide and earnest. "But then I see Uncle Neko."
Euijoo paused, a dollop of shampoo in his hand. "Uncle... Neko? You mean Nicholas-san?"
Harua nodded vigorously, splashing a bit of water. "Neko-ojichan! Like a big cat. He has cat eyes and he is very soft."
Euijoo couldn't help but chuckle. Nicholas...Nico…Neko. It made sense in Harua’s four-year-old logic, especially since Nicholas had been wearing that beanie and moving with a sort of effortless, lanky grace.
"He is cute, Eomma," Harua continued, his shyness seemingly forgotten in the safety of the tub. "No yelling. He is kind. He pat my hair like you do... and he give me that."
Harua pointed toward the bathroom counter, where the glowing keychain sat. It was a small, high-quality acrylic charm of a star with a smiley face.
As Euijoo rinsed the soap from Harua’s hair, he felt a strange mix of relief and curiosity.
“Uncle Neko is cute and kind,” Harua’s voice echoed in his head.
It was a miracle, really. Euijoo had spent years watching Harua tremble at the mere sight of the delivery man or the elderly neighbor. Yet, within thirty minutes, this Nicholas had managed to convince Harua to be carried, earn a ‘cute and kind’ rating from the world’s pickiest judge, and receive a nickname.
"He really tamed you, didn't he?" Euijoo whispered, poking Harua’s cheek. Harua just giggled, hiding behind a handful of bubbles.
That night, as Euijoo is tucking Harua into bed, he notices something. Harua won't let go of the glowing keychain Nicholas gave him at the playground. Euijoo simply smiles and kisses his son’s forehead.
-
The morning sun was a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. As Euijoo dropped Harua in Kodomoen’s entrance, the toddler was already clutching the glowing star keychain Nicholas had given him.
Fuma was waiting at the entrance, arms crossed and a playful but firm pout on his face.
"Byun Harua," Fuma sighed, kneeling to the boy's level. "Do you know how many gray hairs you gave me yesterday? I thought I’d have to go into early retirement from the stress!"
Harua ducked his head, hiding a tiny smile. "Sorry, Papa Fuma. But Eomma already talked-talked a lot at bath time yesterday. My ears feel hot."
Fuma let out a hearty laugh and looked up at Euijoo, who was currently rubbing his temples in a mix of exhaustion and embarrassment.
"Three years, Euijoo," Fuma teased, standing up. "Three years and he still calls you 'Eomma.' I think it's official."
"I don't even know where he got it from," Euijoo groaned, his cheeks tinged pink. "Maybe it's because I'm the one who does the cooking and the laundry? Or maybe he just thinks 'Appa' sounds too stern for the person who kisses him."
The dynamic at the Kodomoen was a constant source of anxiety for Euijoo. To any outsider watching them, the scene looked remarkably domestic. Harua, The clingy son. Euijoo, The Eomma (Mother). Fuma, The Papa (Father).
"Fuma-kun," Euijoo whispered, leaning in and looking around the playground nervously. "Please, don't encourage the 'Papa' thing today. What if Yudai-kun is nearby? If your boyfriend hears Harua calling you 'Papa' while calling me 'Eomma’ at the same time ever again, I’m going to have to find a new school and a new identity."
Fuma waved a hand dismissively. "Yudai knows Harua is obsessed with me. He's not the jealous type... mostly. Besides, he knows you’re much too busy being a logistics king to steal his lover."
"Still," Euijoo muttered, handing over Harua's little yellow backpack. "It looks like we're a married couple. It’s scandalous."
"So, what kind of scandal are you planning for this morning, Euijoo?"
The voice was deep, smooth, and laced with a teasing edge that made Euijoo’s shoulders jump. He turned to find Yudai standing there, looking effortlessly cool even while carrying a tiny dinosaur-patterned backpack. A tall, strikingly handsome figure appeared at the gate, holding the hand of a very small, very excited Taki.
Before Euijoo could stammer out a defense, a small blur of yellow denim streaked past him. Harua had spotted Taki. Without a word of greeting, Harua grabbed Taki’s hand and began pulling him toward the classroom like a mission-driven tugboat.
"Bye-bye, Papa!" Taki chirped, blowing a quick kiss to Yudai before being successfully abducted by Harua.
Yudai watched them go, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. He turned his gaze back to Fuma and Euijoo, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Unbelievable. Harua-chan is quite the little heartbreaker. First he steals my boyfriend's by calling him 'Papa,' and now he snatches my son right out of my hand. Are you trying to dismantle my entire family, Euijoo?"
Euijoo felt the familiar prickle of Yudai-induced anxiety. Even though he had known Yudai for over a year, and even though he knew the older man was 90% jokes and 10% protective instinct, Yudai’s sheer presence was... a lot.
"I-I'm sorry, Yudai-kun," Euijoo stammered, bowing slightly. "Harua was just... really excited to see Taki back. He didn't mean to be rude."
Fuma just laughed, leaning his weight against Yudai’s shoulder with a comfortable familiarity that Euijoo envied. "Oh, stop it, Yu-kun. You love it. It gives you an excuse to act like a tragic hero in a K-drama."
Yudai smirked, reaching out to ruffle Fuma’s hair before nodding at Euijoo. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Relax, Euijoo. If anything, I'm just impressed. Harua usually doesn't let go of your leg for the first ten minutes. He seems... bolder today?"
The three of them stood by the gate for a moment, a habitual pocket of adult conversation.
"How’s the logistics world?" Yudai asked, shifting into a more genuine tone. "Fuma said you’ve been buried in spreadsheets lately at Little Wonders."
"It’s busy," Euijoo admitted, adjusting his glasses. "We’re launching a new line of ergonomic school furniture and children's clothing, so we’ve been coordinating with a lot of external designers. It’s a bit of a headache."
"Designers, huh?" Yudai mused. "Anyway, I should head to the studio. See you later, Fu-chan, Euijoo."
Yudai gave them a final wave—and one mischievous wink at a flustered Euijoo—before heading off.
The morning air is still fresh as the gate-side conversation winds down. Euijoo is adjusting his bag, ready to head to the office, when the sound of approaching footsteps makes him pause.
Standing at the entrance is Nicholas, looking significantly more put-together than he did in yesterday’s rain. He’s wearing a stylish oversized knit sweater, but what catches everyone's eye is the boy clinging to his hand. The child looks like he stepped straight out of a classic movie—big, expressive eyes and a bright, energetic aura.
"Oh! Euijoo-san, good morning," Nicholas greets first, his eyes crinkling into a warm smile.
Euijoo, caught off guard by seeing the ‘Uncle Neko’ so early, offers a polite, soft nod. "Good morning, Nicholas-san."
Nicholas turns toward Fuma and bows respectfully. "Hello. I’m here to drop off my nephew for his first day. My cousin and his spouse are tied up with move-in logistics, so I’m the designated escort today."
"Welcome!" Fuma beams, his professional 'Sensei' mode switching on instantly. "I'm Fuma, the lead teacher here. And who is this little gentleman?"
"This is Maki," Nicholas says, gently nudging the boy forward. Maki gives a small, polite bow, though his eyes are already wandering toward the colorful playground equipment.
After Euijoo bids his goodbyes and heads to his respective jobs, Fuma leads Nicholas and Maki through the bright hallways.
"We just moved into the neighborhood a few days ago," Nicholas explains as they walk. "I’m helping them settle in. It’s a bit of a whirlwind, but Maki is pretty adaptable."
Fuma nods, impressed by the younger man's responsibility. "It’s a great area for kids. And don't worry, we'll make sure Maki feels right at home. It helps that he’s starting on a day when everyone is in a good mood."
As they enter the main classroom, the usual morning buzz of play fills the room. Nicholas’s eyes immediately scan the area and land on a familiar tuft of soft hair in the reading corner.
"Oh! Harua-chan!" Nicholas calls out softly.
The effect is instantaneous. Harua, who usually treats the arrival of any adult like a high-level security threat, snaps his head up. His face lights up in a way Fuma has rarely seen. Without a second of hesitation, Harua scrambles to his feet, snatches Taki’s hand, and runs—actually runs—toward Nicholas.
Fuma stands frozen. Harua is running toward a man who isn't Euijoo or me?
"Neko-ojisan!" Harua chirps as he skids to a halt.
Nicholas laughs, kneeling down to Harua’s level and naturally patting his hair. "Look at you! You're not shivering today. Harua, I brought a new friend. This is Maki. He’s my nephew, and it’s his first day. Can you and your friend show him around?"
Harua looks at Maki. Maki looks at Harua. The two boys seem to communicate in that silent language children have. Harua reaches out his free hand, and Maki takes it. The Trio is formed instantly; Taki, Harua, and Maki head off toward the block corner like they've been friends for years.
Nicholas stands up, dusting off his jeans, completely unaware of the miracle he just performed. He turns to find Fuma staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.
"Nicholas-san..." Fuma says, his voice a mix of awe and suspicion. "How on earth do you know Harua? And more importantly... how did you get him to come to you without him crying or screaming first?"
Nicholas blinks, looking confused. "Oh, we met yesterday in the rain. Is he usually... not like that?"
Fuma just shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. "Nicholas-san, you have no idea. You might be the first 'stranger' in history to survive Harua's first-impression test. Euijoo is going to lose his mind when he hears about this."
Nicholas listened to Fuma’s explanation, his expression shifting from casual amusement to genuine surprise. He leaned back against the classroom cubbies, watching the three boys—Harua, Taki, and Maki—already deep in a serious discussion about the structural integrity of a wooden block tower.
"Wait, so he’s that shy?" Nicholas asked, his voice dropping an octave in disbelief. "I just thought he was a bit quiet because of the rain. When I reached out to him yesterday, he just... let me. He even held onto my jacket the whole way to the elevator."
Fuma let out a long, dramatic exhale, crossing his arms. "Nicholas-san, you don't understand. Harua is the 'Final Boss' of introverts. There are teachers here who have worked with him for almost three years—who still can't get a high-five out of him. He is histrionic with 99% of the human population."
Fuma gestured toward the playground. "I only earned his trust because I’ve known Euijoo since our college days. I was there when Harua was born. I’m essentially a permanent fixture in his life, and even then, it took me six months to get him to stop hiding under the table when I first entered the room."
Nicholas chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears turning a slight shade of pink. "I guess I should feel honored then. I just thought he was a sweet kid who needed a warm place to wait. I didn't realize I was breaking some kind of world record."
"It’s more than an honor," Fuma whispered, leaning in like he was sharing a state secret. "It’s a miracle. Euijoo has been in Survival Mode for years. He’s so used to Harua being terrified of the world that he’s become a bit of a hermit himself. Seeing Harua run to you like that... it’s going to turn Euijoo’s world upside down."
Nicholas looked back at Harua, who was currently showing Maki how to properly hold a crayon. The kid looked so peaceful, so different from the scared image Fuma was describing.
"Uncle Neko!" Harua suddenly shouted, waving a piece of paper toward the door.
Nicholas waved back, his heart doing a strange little flip. "I think I might be in trouble, Fuma-san. I’m already starting to get attached to the little guy."
.
While Nicholas was being crowned the Second Tamer at the Kodomoen, Euijoo was at the Little Wonders headquarters, staring blankly at a spreadsheet.
His mind wasn't on logistics. It was on the feeling of Harua’s tiny hand gripping Nicholas’s denim jacket in the elevator. It was on the way Nicholas had looked—calm, vibrant, and completely unfazed by Harua’s intensity.
His desk phone buzzed. It was his boss.
"Euijoo-san, come to the conference room. The creative team for the Fall Collection line is here. I want you to meet the lead designer. He’s young, but his portfolio is incredible."
Euijoo sighed, grabbing his notebook. "On my way, Boss."
Euijoo opened the door to the conference room, bowing low as he entered. "Sorry I'm late, I was just finalizing the shipping costs for the—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Sitting at the head of the table, flipping through a digital tablet, was a man in a stylish oversized knit sweater. He looked up, his cat-like eyes widening in recognition.
"Euijoo-san?" Nicholas said, a slow, delighted grin spreading across his face. “Small world. Or maybe it’s just a very lucky Wednesday."
Euijoo’s notebook nearly slipped from his hands. "You... you’re the lead designer?"
The walk from the conference room to the creative department was a study in contrasting energies. Nicholas walked with a light, rhythmic bounce, his eyes wandering over the Little Wonders office decor, while Euijoo kept his gaze fixed ahead, clutching his tablet like a shield.
"I actually saw Harua-chan this morning," Nicholas said, breaking the professional silence. He shoved his hands into his sweater pockets, sounding remarkably casual. "I was dropping off my nephew, Maki, to his class. They seemed to hit it off immediately."
Euijoo’s steps faltered for a fraction of a second. "Fuma-kun told me about that. Thank God Harua welcomed your nephew well. So you are new to the neighborhood?"
"Yeah, Me and my cousin’s family just moved there," Nicholas replied, leaning in slightly as they rounded a corner. "Harua is really something, Euijoo-san. He was so brave showing Maki around. You must be proud."
Euijoo offered a tight, polite nod, his professional poker face working overtime. "He’s... he’s adjusting. About the schedule—I’ve allocated three weeks for the initial sample shipping from the Seoul factory. We need the design and sample fabric packs by Friday to stay on track."
Nicholas chuckled, a low sound that vibrated in the quiet hallway. "Straight back to business? You’re a tough nut to crack, Euijoo-san. But don't worry, my team is fast. We’ll get you those in time. I just hope the fabric choices don't give you a logistics nightmare."
Euijoo swiped his badge to open the heavy glass doors of the creative suite. The room was a vibrant mess of fabric swatches, mood boards, and half-dressed mannequins.
"This is your space for the duration of the Fall Collection project," Euijoo said, gesturing to a large central table. "If you need specific samples or specialized containers for the prototypes, just send a request through the internal portal."
Nicholas didn't go to the table. Instead, he stopped by a mood board and turned back to Euijoo, his expression softening. "You know, the rain has finally stopped. It’s going to be a nice afternoon. Are you always this serious, or is it just because we're at the office?"
Euijoo felt a familiar prickle of heat at the back of his neck. "I’m the Project Manager, Nicholas-san. It’s my job to be serious. If I’m not, things won't get done in time."
"And if things won't get done, the world ends?" Nicholas teased, a playful glint in his cat-like eyes. "I think you need a coffee. Not office coffee—real coffee. Maybe after we finish the sample fabric packs?"
Euijoo opened his mouth to give his standard "I have to pick up my son" refusal, but then he remembered; Nicholas would be at the Kodomoen too. He wouldn't just be picking up Harua; he'd likely be picking up Maki.
"I have a lot of spreadsheets to finalize," Euijoo said instead, retreating toward the door. "I'll leave you to your team. Welcome to Little Wonders, Nicholas-san."
As Euijoo walked back to his desk, his heart was thumping a bit faster than a logistics report usually warranted. He sat down and stared at his screen, but instead of seeing shipping routes, he kept seeing the way Nicholas’s eyes crinkled when he spoke about Harua.
He's a designer. He's young. He's a freelancer. And he's... really loud.
Euijoo sighed, clicking on a cell in his spreadsheet. Why did it have to be him? Of all the designers in Tokyo, why the one who knows my son?
.
The walk from the desk to the front door felt longer than usual for Euijoo. Every time he adjusted his bag or checked his watch, he could see Nicholas out of the corner of his eye, casually chatting with a colleague or slinging his designer messenger bag over his shoulder.
Usually, this was Euijoo’s favorite part of the day; the clean break. He would offer a polite bow to the lobby guard, disappear into the crowd of commuters toward the train station, and transition into Parent mode. But today, the gravity of the situation held him back.
If he left now, he’d just see Nicholas in the lobby. If he avoided him there, he’d see him at the Kodomoen. And if he survived that, he’d likely see him back at their neighboring buildings.
As they reached the heavy glass doors of the headquarters, the two of them stepped out into the crisp afternoon air at the exact same time. The clock read just past 6:00 PM.
"Heading to the Kodomoen?" Nicholas asked, his tone easy and natural, as if they weren't in the middle of a high-stakes project contract.
"Yes," Euijoo replied, his voice small, mentally calculating his train route. "Pick-up is by 7:00 PM."
"Same here. Maki’s dad texted me that he's still knee-deep in cardboard boxes at the new place, so I'm the designated butler for the rest of the week." Nicholas tilted his head, watching Euijoo’s stiff posture. "You usually take the train, right?"
Euijoo nodded. "Yes. It takes about 35 to 45 minutes with the rush-hour crowds and the walk from the station."
"It's brutal out there today," Nicholas said with a lopsided grin. "You know, since we’re going to the same place... it feels a bit silly to go separate ways, doesn't it?"
"I... I have some errands," Euijoo lied, his eyes darting toward the street.
"Oh? Like what?" Nicholas stepped closer, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Because the grocery store is right next to the school. And the dry cleaner is at your 1st floor building. Unless you're planning to go to a different city in the next twenty minutes, we're on the same route, Euijoo-san. By car, it’s only about 35 minutes even in this rush hour.”
"I... don't want to trouble you," Euijoo sighed, defeated by Nicholas’s relentless logic and the alluring promise of a direct, comfortable ride that would get him to Harua much faster than the train lines. "I usually take the train... driving in rush hour sounds quite tiring and boring for you."
"I don't mind at all. You look like you've been fighting spreadsheets all day, and I've been staring at color swatches all day; my brain is much fresher for driving than yours is for fighting train crowds," Nicholas laughed, effortlessly cutting through Euijoo’s defenses. "Come on, Euijoo-san. Let's go."
Euijoo’s mind went into a minor tailspin. He was used to his own structured, solitary train commute—his tiny buffer zone between work and fatherhood. He was fiercely independent and loathed being a burden, but his analytical brain quickly ran the logistics. The thought of sitting in a cool, high-fashion designer's personal car made him want to run back into the office and hide. But accepting the ride meant skipping the suffocating rush-hour train and guaranteed he wouldn't be late for Harua's 7:00 PM pickup. Also he just couldn't say no to someone who had looked after his son in the rain.
Defeated by Nicholas’s relentless charm, Euijoo followed him to the South Lot.
The "Refusal Module" in his brain broke completely under the weight of sheer convenience. "It's... are you sure it's not a bother?" Euijoo muttered as they walked toward the corporate garage.
"Not at all, Euijoo-san," Nicholas laughed, unlocking a pristine, polished vehicle, Euijoo hesitated before stepping inside. Nicholas’s car was just like him—sleek, modern, and smelling faintly of expensive leather and citrus. It was a stark contrast to the noisy, crowded train cars Euijoo was used to.
As Nicholas buckled his seatbelt and started the engine, Euijoo quietly adjusted his glasses, his ears still pink from the unfamiliarity of the situation.
"Make yourself comfortable," Nicholas said genuinely, shifting into gear. "It feels a bit empty, but it gets me where I need to go."
As they pulled out of the parking structure and merged into the heavy 6:15 PM traffic, the silence was surprisingly comfortable. Nicholas didn't push for deep awkward conversation; he just leaned back, effortlessly navigating the sea of brake lights while a soft, indie track played quietly from the speakers letting Euijoo rest his tired eyes.
"You know," Nicholas said softly, breaking the quiet as the city lights flickered on. "Maki told me this morning that he wants to be best friends with Harua. He said Harua is the best at building towers because he's 'very careful and doesn't push.'"
Euijoo’s grip on his briefcase relaxed just a fraction. "Harua doesn't usually make friends that fast. Maki must be very special."
"Or maybe they just recognized something in each other," Nicholas mused, glancing sideways at Euijoo with a soft smile. "Like Harua and me."
.
Thanks to Nicholas’s driving, they arrived at the Kodomoen gates exactly at 6:35 PM, well ahead of the 7:00 PM deadline. As they walked toward the entrance side-by-side, they spotted Fuma standing with Yudai, who was there to pick up Taki.
Fuma’s eyes went wide. He nudged Yudai, pointing frantically at the two men walking toward them in perfect sync—the stressed-out Worker Euijoo and the stylish Nicholas.
"Look at that," Fuma whispered loudly enough for the whole courtyard to hear. "Harua’s papa and Maki’s uncle are here. Did you guys coordinate your commute, or is this a Fate situation?"
Euijoo looked at the ground, wishing a hole would open up and swallow him, while Nicholas just gave a cool, confident wave.
"We carpooled from work, Fuma-san!" Nicholas shouted back, grinning. "I work for a project at Euijoo-san’s company now. What a small world, right Euijoo-san?"
Euijoo could only offer a tightly polite nod.
Inside the playroom, the Trio was winding down their evening. Harua was the first to spot them. He froze, his little eyes darting between Euijoo and Nicholas.
Usually, Harua would run straight to Euijoo and bury his face in his trousers. But seeing his two favorite adults appearing as a duo short-circuited his usual shyness. He let go of Maki’s hand and jogged over, looking up at them with wide, wonder-filled eyes.
"Eomma? Neko-ojisan? You... you came together?" Harua asked, his voice tiny but filled with excitement.
The courtyard of the Kodomoen felt like a stage for three very different family portraits. Euijoo felt the heat rising to his face as he tried to find a logical, ‘adult’ way to explain why he and Nicholas suddenly appeared together.
"Harua-chan, it’s not exactly like that," Euijoo started frantically, his ears turning pink as he tried to find a strictly professional explanation. "Neko-ojisan and I are... we’re collaborating on a work project. We just happened to have the same schedule and share a ride today."
Harua tilted his head, his wide eyes scanning Euijoo’s nervous face and Nicholas’s relaxed grin. To a four-year-old, ‘collaborating’ was just a long word for playing together.
"So... you’re best friends," Harua concluded with a firm nod. He reached out his small arms, ready to launch himself from Euijoo’s side straight into Nicholas’s tailored denim jacket, but Euijoo was faster. He swooped Harua up into a secure hold, preventing his son from becoming a permanent attachment to the young designer.
Maki, witnessing the scene, stepped up and grabbed Nicholas’s hand, looking at the two adults with pure curiosity.
"Uncle Nico," Maki asked, using his own nickname for his uncle. "Are Papa and Touchan already done with work at home?"
Nicholas let out a soft laugh, squeezing Maki’s hand. "We’re done for today, bro. Everyone worked very hard."
Maki’s eyes lit up. "Then can I bring Harua home? We can play with the blocks in my new room!"
Euijoo’s heart nearly stopped. The thought of a playdate after a full day of logistics meetings and carpooling was enough to push his social battery into the red. Nicholas, sensing Euijoo’s internal panic, stepped in with the grace of a seasoned uncle.
"Not today, Maki," Nicholas said gently, kneeling down to look his nephew in the eye. "Your papa and touchan are still tired from moving all those heavy boxes, and Harua’s papa is tired from his big meeting too. We all need to go home, have a warm dinner, and call it a day. Okay?"
Maki pouted, but he was a sensible kid. "Okay. See you tomorrow, Harua-chan, Taki-chan!!"
The trio of boys exchanged a round of sleepy "See you tomorrow!" waves as the families prepared to head out into the cooling evening air, drawing a subtle contrast between their worlds.
With final goodbyes exchanged, the courtyard emptied into three distinct directions.
Yudai adjusted his grip on Taki, tucking him securely under his arm while firmly holding Fuma’s hand with the other. They looked like a picture of effortless domesticity as they headed toward Yudai's car, Fuma waving a final, teasing goodbye to Euijoo.
Euijoo adjusted Harua on his hip, taking a quiet breath before turning to the designer. "Thank you for the ride today, Nicholas-san. You really saved me a lot of time tonight."
Nicholas smoothed down his jacket, offering a warm, playful grin that made his cat-like eyes crinkle. "Anytime, Euijoo-kun. See you tomorrow at the office... and right here, of course." He gave his signature, two-fingered salute, taking Maki's hand to lead him back toward the parking lot where his own car sat waiting to drive them all back to their apartment complex.
Harua looked particularly disappointed, his little lip trembling as he watched Nicholas and Maki prepare to cross the street.
"Shh, it’s okay," Euijoo whispered into Harua’s hair, rocking him gently. "We’ll see them tomorrow morning."
Euijoo stood under the dimming twilight and watched them go, shifting Harua’s weight. While the other families walked toward the comfort of their vehicles to drive off to their upscale residential areas, Euijoo simply turned on his heel. He tightened his grip on his son and walked past the courtyard gates, heading directly toward the modest, slightly dated apartment complex situated right next door to the Kodomoen.
The survival mode he had lived in for three years was still there, but as he walked toward his apartment, the short silent walk home didn't feel quite as lonely as it used to.
However, walking home on foot in the quiet evening, the stark contrast of their lives settled heavily in his chest, leaving Euijoo with a lingering tangle of mixed feelings he couldn't quite shake.
.
The kitchen was filled with the warm, savory scent of miso soup and steamed rice. Euijoo set the plates down with practiced quietness, his eyes drifting to the paper sprawled across the table. In Harua’s world of crayons, the colors were vivid and the meanings were deep. It’s a big yellow sunflower—Nicholas—and a small star—Harua—holding hands.
Euijoo leaned over, pointing a chopstick toward the bright yellow petals on the left. "Harua-chan, tell Appa about your drawing. Why is Uncle Neko a big sunflower?"
Harua didn't even look up from his rice, his tiny fingers clutching his crayon tightly. "Uncle Neko is big," he mumbled, his voice small but sure. "Like a tall flower. And he is bright. Like when the sun comes out and the rain goes away."
Euijoo felt a small tug in his chest. "And you’re the little star holding his hand?"
Harua nodded vigorously. "Yes! Because Uncle Neko is strong, so I can hold him tight-tight."
Euijoo hesitated, his voice softening. "But... where is Appa? Did you forget to draw me?"
Without a word, Harua picked up his brightest yellow crayon. At the very top of the page, far above the sunflower and the little star, he began to draw a large, intricate star with many points. He colored it so thickly that the wax shone under the kitchen light.
"There," Harua said, tapping the new star proudly. "Eomma is not here on the ground. Eomma is the Big Star up in the sky!"
Euijoo blinked, confused. "In the sky? Why?"
"Because," Harua said, looking up at Euijoo with big, innocent eyes. "The big star shines the most. It stays awake all night so I don't get scared of the dark. And... stars are super pretty."
He reached out and patted Euijoo’s hand, leaving a tiny smudge of yellow wax on his skin. "You are Eomma because you are pretty and you always watch me. Stars are prettier than flowers."
Euijoo sat back, a soft, breathless chuckle escaping him. For years, he had wondered if ‘Eomma’ was just a toddler’s confusion or a result of his nurturing nature. He never imagined that in Harua’s mind, the word was a title for something celestial—something that was both a protector and a source of beauty.
"So I'm a big star, huh?" Euijoo whispered, his heart feeling fuller than it had in a long time. "I suppose that’s a very important job."
"Mm! Big job," Harua agreed, finally dropping the crayon to pick up his spoon. "Eomma, can we eat the eggs now? My tummy is rumbly."
Euijoo laughed, the lingering stress of the logistics meeting and the awkward carpool finally evaporating. "Yes, little star. Let’s eat."
As they ate, the modest apartment next to the kodomoen felt peaceful. But outside, across the road in the higher-end building, a light was still burning in a second-story studio.
Nicholas sat at his drafting table, surrounded by fabric swatches and half-finished digital specs for Little Wonders’ kids' Fall collection. He was supposed to be finalizing a pattern for a children's romper, but his stylus remained hovering uselessly over the tablet.
Instead, he was remembering.
His mind kept wandering backward, drifting to the first time he had met Harua in the pouring rain. He remembered how the tiny boy had clung to him, and he remembered the strange, heartbreakingly sweet story the little boy had babbled to him about his Eomma. It was the exact same story Euijoo had listened to at the dining table tonight.
“Eomma is the biggest star up there. High up in the sky... It stays awake all night so I don't get scared.”
Nicholas let out a quiet huff of a laugh, leaning back in his chair. The raw sweetness of the kid's imagination rubbed against something tender in his chest, completely disrupting his focus. He couldn't care less about the Fall collection right now.
He spun his stylus between his fingers, completely distracted. Giving up on the clothing designs, Nicholas opened a blank digital canvas.
His fingers moved fluidly, he didn't draw a sunflower or a cartoon star. He didn't sketch a fashion model; instead, he began to trace the sharp, quiet lines of a profile he had memorized during the evening rush hour. He sketched the quiet man just as he had looked in the passenger seat—the slightly slumped shoulders of a tired father, the serious tilt of his head, the way the soft dashboard light caught the edge of his glasses, and the faint, hidden warmth behind his guarded expression.
It was a raw, honest sketch, stripped of the professional armor Euijoo wore like a shield at the office from Nicholas’s eyes. He drew the sharp line of Euijoo's jaw relaxed against the headrest, the slightly messy hair from a long day at the office, and the soft, vulnerable curve of his mouth when he looked out at the twilight city lights.
Nicholas leaned back, staring at the digital lines as a quiet, undeniable curiosity about the older man began to take deep root in his chest.
"He looks like a star in the sky, huh?" Nicholas murmured into the empty studio, a helpless, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "I wonder if he knows how much he shines even when he's trying to hide."