Days passed, and Keifer's visits to Kaisan's school became regular.
Every time he came, Kaisan's small heart raced—not from fear, but from excitement.
"Hey there, champ," Keifer said one morning, crouching to Kaisan's level. "How's my favorite little guy today?"
"I'm… I'm great, Doctor Uncle!" Kaisan beamed, eyes sparkling.
Keifer ruffled his hair gently. "That's my boy. Keep being awesome, alright?"
Whenever Keifer talked to him like this—asking about school, joking, giving little advice—Kaisan felt lighter than ever.
He laughed more, skipped through the hallways, and even shared tiny secrets he hadn't told anyone before.
At lunch, Kaisan ran up to him, grinning.
"Doctor Uncle! Look what I drew!" he said proudly, holding up a picture of him and his mom.
Keifer leaned in, smiling warmly. "Wow… that's amazing, baby. You're super talented."
Kaisan's chest swelled with pride. Praise like this was new, but it felt right.
Even in class, when Keifer called his name gently, Kaisan's small shoulders relaxed, a bright smile spreading across his face.
On the way home, he hummed, skipping lightly, joking with classmates, something he hadn't dared to do before.
At home, Jay noticed the change immediately.
"Kaisan… you seem happier these days," she said, brushing his hair back.
Kaisan's eyes sparkled. "Mom… Doctor Uncle talks to me… like you do. And… he listens!"
Jay hugged him tightly, heart full. "I'm so glad, baby. That's wonderful."
Every time Kaisan called him "Doctor Uncle," Keifer's heart softened.
He knew the boy felt safe. Seen. Protected.
And for Kaisan, this was more than comfort—it was the first taste of a father's love.
He treasured it completely.
One morning, Kaisan waited at the school gate, small fingers clutching his bag straps.
The usual chatter of kids didn't reach him. His eyes scanned every corner, hoping to see Keifer walk in.
Minutes passed. No Keifer.
Kaisan's small face fell, lips trembling.
"Where's Doctor Uncle?" he whispered to himself.
In class, he sat quietly, barely listening to the teacher.
His little hands fidgeted with his notebook, drawing absent lines and shapes instead of writing.
During recess, his friends called him over, but he shook his head.
"Not today," he murmured, eyes downcast.
By lunch, Kaisan hadn't eaten a bite. His small chest rose and fell slowly, heavy with disappointment.
Other kids whispered, noticing his unusual quietness, but he didn't care.
The day dragged. Every moment without Keifer felt longer, heavier.
Kaisan's usual spark was gone. His laughter, his excitement, even his curiosity—gone.
When the final bell rang, he packed his bag slowly, moving like someone carrying an invisible weight.
"I hope Doctor Uncle is okay," he whispered softly, hugging his bag tightly.
And though Jay wasn't there to see it yet, she would notice soon:
For the first time, her little boy had realized just how much Keifer's presence mattered to him.