Everybody is Guilty Here

The drive to the daycare was quiet, with the hum of the engine filling the space between them. Masahiro’s eyes were on the road, focused, while Matthew sat beside him, eyes drifting to the passing scenery. The familiar streets of the city felt peaceful, but something lingered in the air, an unspoken tension. Masahiro couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

They pulled into the daycare parking lot, and Masahiro parked the car. Matthew, as usual, was the first to get out, but something was different this time. As he walked toward the door, he noticed a faint sadness in the way Katherine was sitting by the window, her small figure slumped in a way that was unlike her usual bouncy energy.

He opened the door, his eyes scanning the room. When Katherine saw him, her face immediately lit up, but it quickly shifted into a look of quiet sadness. She ran to him without a word, throwing her arms around his waist, and for a moment, Matthew froze, unsure of what was happening.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Matthew asked softly, kneeling down to her level.

Katherine buried her face in his chest, her small body trembling. She started to cry, soft sobs escaping her lips, and Matthew’s heart twisted. Gently, he lifted her into his arms, her little arms wrapping around his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice calm. “Tell me what happened.”

Katherine only shook her head, unable to speak through her tears. Matthew rocked her gently, his fingers brushing through her hair, but her sobs didn’t subside. He knew it was something serious—something beyond what a simple scrape or scolding could bring.

He started walking toward the car, his heart heavy with concern. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? Let’s talk when we’re home.”

The air inside the car was thick with an uneasy silence as they drove. Masahiro glanced in the rearview mirror, his brows furrowed in worry at the sight of Katherine clinging to Matthew, still sobbing quietly.

When they pulled into the driveway, Matthew opened the backseat door and gently placed Katherine down on the seat. Her sobs had subsided, but her eyes were still wet with tears. Masahiro glanced over his shoulder, asking with a simple, subtle gesture what had happened.

Matthew shrugged, giving him a small, uncertain shake of his head. He didn’t have answers. Not yet. He simply reached for Katherine’s small hand and squeezed it.

When they entered the house, the quiet, tense atmosphere lingered. Matthew carried Katherine inside, and she stayed close to him, her silence now more pronounced. He set her down on the couch, asking her to wait as he prepared her a warm bath. She didn’t protest, her usual energy drained by whatever had upset her.

Masahiro disappeared into their bedroom, and Matthew turned on the tap, watching the steam rise from the warm water. As Katherine stepped into the bath, her little face still clouded with sadness, Matthew knelt beside her.

“Kat,” he started softly, “why are you so upset, sweetie?”

Katherine looked down at her hands in the water, her lips trembling. “Some of the other kids at school... they laughed at me.”

Matthew’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“They said... they said I don’t have a mommy. That I’m weird.” Katherine sniffled, her voice breaking. “They made fun of me.”

Matthew’s heart broke for her. He sat down beside the tub, his hand brushing her hair out of her face. “Listen to me, Kat,” he said gently. “You don’t need to have a mommy like other kids do. Sometimes families look different. Your daddy and I—we love you more than anything. That’s what matters most.”

Katherine’s eyes met his, still unsure, still hurt. “But... I don’t have a mommy like the other kids,” she repeated softly.

Matthew smiled, his voice tender. “You’re special, Kat. It doesn’t matter that your family is different. You have a lot of people who love you—more than you can count. That’s what makes you strong.”

Katherine seemed to absorb his words, her little face softening, and for the first time in what felt like hours, a small, tentative smile tugged at her lips.

After the bath, Matthew helped her out and wrapped her in a towel. She was quieter now, her usual energy still subdued but no longer overshadowed by tears. He fed her dinner, then excused himself to find Masahiro, who had already retreated to his home office to work.

Matthew walked in and, without a word, slid his arms around Masahiro from behind, resting his chin on Masahiro’s shoulder. He didn’t need to say anything, not yet—Masahiro would feel the weight of the situation.

After a moment, Matthew spoke softly, “Kat was crying... because some kids said she doesn’t have a mommy.”

Masahiro paused, his hands resting on the desk, his expression shifting as he turned to face Matthew. He relaxed in his chair, his hands going to Matthew’s, squeezing them gently.

“Is she okay now?” Masahiro asked quietly, concern evident in his voice.

Matthew nodded, his voice soft. “Yeah, she’s better. She just needed to hear that she’s loved. That she’s not... different.”

Masahiro leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “Kids can be cruel. But I think she’s lucky... to have you.”

Matthew smiled, squeezing his hands tighter. “We’re lucky, too. We’ve got her.”

They stilled in the quiet of the room for a few moments, the weight of the world momentarily lifted by the simple connection between them.

Masahiro stood, pushing the chair back with a soft scrap. He rested a hand on Matthew’s waist, steady, familiar.

“I’ll talk to the daycare tomorrow,” he said finally. Not angry. Not reactive. Certain.

Matthew looked up at him. “You don’t have to—”

“I do,” Masahiro interrupted gently. “Not to complain. To set boundaries.” He paused, then added, quieter, “She shouldn’t have to learn how to defend herself at four.”

Matthew swallowed, the tension in his chest easing just a little. He nodded. “Thank you.”

Masahiro pressed his forehead briefly against Matthew’s. “She’s ours. That means we don’t wait for damage to become permanent.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The house was still. Somewhere down the hall, Katherine laughed softly in her sleep, the sound faint but real.

Masahiro exhaled. “Next time, I’ll pick her up.”