Jay unpacked the last box in their new apartment, sunlight spilling through the windows.
Kaisan bounced around, small feet tapping on the wooden floor.
"Mom… look! I can make a castle here!" he exclaimed, stacking his blocks.
Jay smiled, but the warmth didn't reach her chest fully.
She watched him, heart full of love—and a twinge of worry.
He had her love, her protection, her laughter… but not a father.
"Mom… can we go to the park today?" Kaisan asked, tugging gently at her sleeve.
"Of course, baby," she replied softly, brushing his hair back.
But inside, she sighed. How could she give him everything he deserved? How could she be both mother and father?
That evening, Kaisan fell asleep in her arms, small body warm and trusting.
Jay sat beside him, staring out the window, lost in thought.
"I wish… I could be enough for you in every way," she whispered.
The apartment was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the city outside.
She knew she had provided safety, love, and a home—but sometimes, the absence of a father's presence pressed on her heart.
Kaisan never asked about it, never complained. But she felt it.
"I'll do my best, baby," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
"I'll be your everything… until someone can be more. Until you don't need me to fill all the gaps."
In the quiet night, Jay held Kaisan close.
She whispered promises she hoped to keep:
"I'll protect you, I'll love you, I'll guide you. Always. No matter what. We'll make it… just the two of us."
And though her heart ached with the weight of both roles, Jay knew one thing for certain:
They were safe. They were together.
And for now… that was enough.
The classroom buzzed with the low chatter of students as the teacher clapped her hands.
"Alright, everyone, today we have a special guest from the city medical camp. Please welcome…"
The door opened, and a tall, confident figure stepped in.
Kaisan froze.
It was Keifer.
He moved with ease, aura calm and commanding, eyes scanning the room, landing briefly on the teacher.
Kaisan's small fingers curled around his notebook.
He didn't speak. He didn't move.
He just stared.
Jay had warned him about being cautious, about keeping secrets safe—but seeing Keifer here…
It felt impossible to look away.
Keifer glanced at the students, smiling politely, and began introducing himself.
"Hello, everyone. I'm here with the medical camp. We'll be checking basic health and giving advice to anyone who needs it."
Kaisan's heart raced. His mother's voice echoed in his mind: Stay calm, baby. Don't cause a scene.
For the rest of the introduction, Kaisan didn't blink.
He only watched, small eyes wide, emotions swirling—curiosity, fear, something unspoken he couldn't name.
The teacher handed out forms for the students to fill in.
"Please complete these, and then the medical camp member will attend to each of you," she said.
Kaisan scribbled his details slowly, but his gaze never left Keifer.
Keifer moved around the room, checking on students, offering guidance, smiling at some, speaking gently to others.
Every movement was deliberate, calm, and effortless.
Kaisan's small chest tightened.
He didn't speak. He didn't wave.
He didn't even look away.
Kaisan held the form in his small hands, eyes glued to the blank line labeled Father's Name.
He froze.
The pen trembled in his grip.
Keifer, noticing him, knelt slightly to meet his gaze, careful not to loom over him.
"Hey there," he said, voice calm, soft, almost gentle. "Do you need help?"
Kaisan flinched. His small shoulders tensed.
He wasn't used to anyone speaking to him like that—not Lucas, not teachers, not anyone. Only Jay's voice felt that warm, safe.
"I… I… I don't know," Kaisan whispered, voice barely audible.
Keifer nodded slowly. "It's okay. You don't have to write anything you're not ready for. Sometimes… it's okay to leave things blank."
Kaisan blinked. He had never heard words spoken so carefully, without anger or blame.
"Most kids don't have someone to ask," Keifer continued. "But you… you're smart. You can choose when to share it. Or when not to."
Kaisan's small hands gripped the paper tighter. His heart thudded in his chest.
He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected… kindness.
Keifer gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Do you want me to help you fill it out? Or… do you want to leave it blank for now?"
Kaisan stared, wide-eyed, unsure if he could trust this stranger—but something in his voice… it reminded him of calm, of safety, of home.
"I… I… I think… I'll leave it blank," he whispered finally, voice trembling.
Keifer nodded. "Good choice. You always get to decide. That's important."
Kaisan's chest felt lighter, though confusion still swirled inside him.
Keifer straightened, giving him one last soft smile before moving on to another student.
Kaisan watched him go, small hands still holding the pen, whispering to himself:
"Mom… why does he feel… safe?"
And for the first time in years, Kaisan realized that not every adult brought fear.
Some… could bring calm.