The Little Cupid's Mission: Dads, Please Get Back Together!

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    Prologue

    Summer began in April.

    A decrepit apartment building stood amidst a bustling, urbanized community, its structure haphazardly arranged with hundreds of tangled electrical wires crisscross the sky.

    In the dim corners, lifeless birds were scattered about. Judging by the evidence, it seemed they clumsily collided with the high-voltage power lines.

    Not a moment later, a fledgling bird, newly learning to fly, spread its wings wide and began soaring. Yet, before it got far, the moment its small legs touched the exposed wire, its eyes bulged, its wings ignited, and smoke spiraled into the air. The stray current claimed its life in a flash.

    Its tiny body dropped to the cement below, convulsed a few times, and then lied still eventually.

    Aree 1997 Building

    On the third floor of this old apartment building, inside room number four.

    A door stood wide open, revealing a white diaper fluttering in the breeze. It hung on a makeshift nylon rope strung across the balcony.

    The soft fabric, printed with cheerful sea creatures, swayed lazily in the wind.

    Morning sunlight gradually spilled into the compact room, highlighting its tidy and orderly state—a reflection of its occupant's personality.

    The scene shifted to small, wiggling feet at the edge of a mattress before gliding upward to a chubby three-month-old baby, almost four months old.

    Little Shark[1] lied serenely, gazing at the ceiling with quiet curiosity. His tiny hands, curled like mangosteens, rest on his round belly, covered in floral-patterned fabric.

    His attention was fixed on a tiny creature crawling on the ceiling. Its darker hue compared to the one he saw the previous night captivated him. The small creature’s four legs shuffled across the surface, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly—too fast for the baby to follow.

    Eventually, it stopped.

    “Common house gecko.” The little stranded shark watched it intently for a long time, his blurry eyes sparkling as its tail wiggled. He stretched his small hands toward it, hoping to grab it. But instead of the gecko, a fart escaped.

    “...”

    The faint sound was followed by a gooey sensation. Little Shark decided to retract his hands, placing them back on his belly, deep in thought about what just happened.

    As silence took over, displeasure built within him. “Hic…” He began to pout.

    The surroundings remained still, devoid of any movement.

    The common house gecko on the ceiling scurried away, disappearing from sight. This act deepened the little one’s sense of abandonment. Tears well up in his eyes as he stared into the empty void, his heart aching with loneliness.

    Finally, Little Shark burst into tears, crying at the top of his lungs. His small hands flailed aimlessly, as if desperately calling for someone to notice him.

    His tear-filled vision blurred the room as faint fog clouded his view. With his eyes shut tight, he wailed uncontrollably, until hurried footsteps echoed from the kitchen.

    “Chalarm!”

    A deep, raspy voice called out just before the man himself appeared—a young adult wearing an apron. His face was fraught with panic as he rushed to the scene.

    “What’s wrong? Why is my baby crying?”

    “Waaah…!”

    He quickly reached his child.

    The baby's cries were quite ear-piercing. His newness to parenthood was evident in his fumbling attempts to handle such a situation.

    But instinct took over, and within seconds, the wriggling Little Shark was safely cradled in his arms. Only faint hiccups and furrowed brows remained.

    Seecha, a twenty-three-year-old Omega who gave birth to this baby, had immediately dropped everything in the kitchen upon hearing his son’s cries. He turned the little body over, using his eyes to examine the baby thoroughly, then smiling when he finally found the cause of his son crying so loudly that his face was so red.

    He soothed him. “Oh, there, my brave little one. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

    Little Shark, three months old, was placed into a small basin that fit him perfectly. Seecha supported his round belly with one large hand, ensuring his safety. From crying his lungs out, Little Shark shifted to giggling, splashing in the soapy water as he played with a yellow rubber duck floating nearby.

    Once bathed and dressed in a fresh diaper, Little Shark broke into a wide grin, revealing his shiny pink gums, glowing like sugar-coated candy.

    After powdering his son, Seecha noticed how his mood has brightened considerably. He knew that his child loved taking a bath and despised filth. If he had to give an example, it would be the soiled diaper.

    Seecha shook his head slightly. “Feeling better now? A clean bum makes everything right, huh?”

    “Ah!”

    He tilted his head and answered playfully, “A-ja!”

    “Ah!”

    His son burst into laughter as Seecha tickled his belly. The father pressed his nose playfully against his son’s tiny belly, gathered both his little feet, and kissed them affectionately before nibbling lightly.

    Chalarm giggled heartily.

    “Stay bright and happy, my little one.”

    The room was soon filled with the sound of giggles and laughter, brightening the atmosphere. Seecha felt as if he was captivated by his son.

    He watched his chubby cheeks and sparkling round eyes—eyes that seemed to hold an entire universe within them. They were so mesmerizing that he couldn’t look away.

    But as Seecha looked closer, he realized that there wasn’t a single feature of his son that resembled him.

    Smiling faintly, he placed a kiss on his son’s temple.

    “Daddy’s going back to the kitchen. Be a good boy and stay here with Turtle, okay?” He placed a green turtle plushie beside his son. They looked like two turtles because they were not much different in size.

    Little Shark glanced briefly at the plushie before focusing on his father’s pale face.

    As Seecha rose to leave, Little Shark shook his head, wailing in protest.

    Cling!

    The baby grabbed his father’s shirt sleeve. When he saw his father crouched back down, his tiny hands clung to his father’s chest, holding him in place before making an incoherent sound.

    Seecha raised an eyebrow.

    “Is it feeding time already?”

    Seecha glanced at the clock on the wall, which confirmed that it was nursing time.

    He smiled softly at his greedy little one. What was meant to be a quick kitchen break to prepare his own food was postponed yet again.

    “Alright, then. Let’s do it.”

    Turning to hold the baby on his lap, Seecha then adjusted his sitting position to a slightly more comfortable position. When he opened his shirt, he revealed the dark, swollen nipples. The mounds of his breasts were not as big as those of a woman, but they were similar to those of a young girl.

    Just now, he had clung to his father to get what he wanted, and as soon as the baby saw the source of his nourishment, he stopped making a fuss.

    His tiny mouth formed a perfect seal around Seecha’s nipple. The sensation was soft and pliant, perfectly suited for the baby to suckle. Little Shark, though prone to crying when denied what he wanted, was generally easy to care for. His routine was simple: eat, sleep, repeat.

    Perhaps because he’s still very young, Seecha’s days revolved around changing diapers, feeding, bathing, and soothing his baby to sleep.

    The light tugging sensation was oddly ticklish. Yet, at one point, the pressure sharpened into a sudden sting that made Seecha flinch.

    “Slow down, there’s no rush. No one’s going to take it from you.”

    Of course, Little Shark didn’t understand. His small ears twitched rhythmically as he continued suckling. Gradually, his eyes grew heavy, and he started to drift off, soothed by his father’s soft humming.

    The reflection of the light behind revealed the shadow of a slender figure dancing along the walls.

    The shiny, deer-like eyes stared at the sky outside the window. The room was peaceful as a breeze drifted through the window, rustling Seecha’s light-colored hair in contrast to his son’s jet-black locks.

    As he pondered, he began to feel a quiet confusion.

    Seecha tilted his head in a proper angle. In that moment, a fleeting image of someone else’s face overlaying his baby’s…


[1] Shark in Thai name is called Chalarm.