Paradox

As the days passed and turned into weeks, then months, time seemed to flow like a quiet river around Kazoo and Cha Eunwoo. The world outside moved forward, indifferent to the small, intimate moments unfolding between father and son. Kazoo grew, slowly, from the fragile, tiny infant he once was into a more curious and energetic one-year-old. His tiny hands, which had once been clumsy, were now reaching for things with purpose. His gaze, which had once been wide with innocent wonder, was now sharper, always seeking and questioning, reflecting the budding mind of the teenager trapped inside.

The bond between them only deepened as time passed. Cha Eunwoo, who had once carried Kazoo with the weight of grief and loss in his heart, now carried him with a new sense of purpose. The baby, who had been nothing but a helpless little bundle, had become his world—the symbol of a new life, a second chance, and a love that was both unconditional and eternal. Each day, Eunwoo found joy in the simplest things—Kazoo's giggles, his babbling sounds, the way his eyes lit up when he saw Eunwoo walk into the room. He had learned, through Kazoo, that love wasn't just something that healed pain; it was something that filled the empty spaces left behind by loss.

Kazoo's first year was a quiet symphony of moments. There were the late nights when Eunwoo stayed up rocking him to sleep, the early mornings when they would share a breakfast of soft porridge, and the long afternoons when they would simply sit together, basking in the sunlight that filtered through the windows. There was a sense of peace now, a comfort that neither of them had thought possible a year ago.

And then, on a bright and sunny morning, it was Kazoo's first birthday. A day that felt almost surreal to Eunwoo, who had watched Kazoo grow from a fragile infant to a lively one-year-old. The house was filled with balloons and soft decorations. There was a cake—brightly colored, decorated with little baby animals—and a soft smile on Cha Eunwoo’s face as he gazed down at Kazoo, who sat in his high chair, looking at the cake in front of him with wide, curious eyes.

Eunwoo leaned down, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness as he spoke, "Happy Birthday, Kazoo. You’ve made this year unforgettable."

Kazoo, still a bit confused about what was happening, reached out with his little hands, his eyes focused on the cake. Eunwoo helped him get a small piece, gently guiding the tiny, chubby fingers toward the sweet treat. Kazoo hesitated for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he took his first bite. The sugary taste was new, unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. And as the cake touched his tongue, something shifted. There was a deep, unspoken sense of relief—like a weight had been lifted from his tiny shoulders. For the first time, in that simple, quiet act of tasting his birthday cake, Kazoo felt a sense of peace.

Eunwoo watched as Kazoo chewed the cake, his little face breaking into a grin, crumbs all over his mouth. In that moment, Cha Eunwoo knew that Kazoo was no longer the tiny, fragile infant who had arrived with nothing but a sense of loss. He was growing, learning, and—more importantly—finding joy.

"Good?" Eunwoo asked softly, his voice filled with affection.

Kazoo, still chewing, looked up at his father, his eyes sparkling with an emotion that was too pure to name, yet somehow seemed to say, Yes, it’s good. It’s more than good. I’m here with you. We’re here together.

Eunwoo smiled, the weight of the past, the grief, and the loss melting away in the warmth of Kazoo’s gaze. He had his son. He had his family. And as time continued to pass, one moment after another, he knew there would be more birthdays, more cakes, more moments of joy and love shared between them.

Kazoo’s tiny mouth, still full of cake, broke into a toothless smile, and Eunwoo couldn’t help but laugh, his heart swelling with the simple, pure joy that only a father could understand.

Time had blown around them, yes, but what mattered most was the love they had found, the life they were building, one small, perfect moment at a time.

Kazoo’s first birthday had passed, marking a full year since he had entered this world in a new form. The small, fragile baby who once struggled to even hold his head up had grown into a curious toddler, filled with boundless energy and an insatiable desire to understand the world around him. His father, Cha Eunwoo, had been his constant presence—his anchor, his guide, and the person who showered him with love in ways Kazoo never thought he would experience again.

Now, with his tiny hands gripping the edge of the table, Kazoo stared at his father with wide, determined eyes. He had spent the past months observing, listening, and absorbing every word Cha Eunwoo spoke. He had memorized the rhythm of his voice, the way his lips moved, and the expressions he used. His teenage soul, trapped in this small body, felt an urgency to break through the limitations of infancy. And now, as he babbled nonsense sounds that slowly started to form meaning, he realized—he could influence his speech.

Cha Eunwoo, sitting on the floor with Kazoo nestled in his lap, smiled as he gently brushed his son’s soft hair. “Kazoo, do you want to play?” he asked, his voice light and affectionate.

Kazoo blinked up at him, his little lips parting as he attempted to mimic the words. “Pway,” he echoed, the syllable clumsy yet recognizable.

Cha Eunwoo’s eyes widened in amazement. “You—” A laugh escaped him, warm and full of delight. “You’re trying to speak?”

Kazoo nodded eagerly. He wanted to say more, to tell his father everything running through his thoughts, but his tongue and lips still struggled to form the proper shapes. Instead, he reached out, placing his small hands on Cha Eunwoo’s face, staring at him with silent determination.

Cha Eunwoo understood. His heart swelled with pride as he held Kazoo close, whispering, “You’re so smart, my boy.”

Kazoo, encouraged by his father’s reaction, continued to experiment. Every day, he imitated sounds, practiced syllables, and delighted in every new word he managed to articulate. From “Papa” to “cake” to “moon,” each word felt like a victory.

And with every small success, he felt a strange, comforting certainty; this was his life now. A life where he was nurtured, protected, and, most importantly, loved.

As Kazoo grew older, his father’s schedule became increasingly packed with modeling gigs, photoshoots, and brand endorsements. Cha Eunwoo’s popularity had skyrocketed, and while he never wanted to neglect his son, the demands of his career often pulled him away.

At first, Kazoo didn’t mind. He was used to seeing his father come and go, always returning with gifts, warm hugs, and stories of the places he had visited. But as weeks passed, he began to notice the pattern; Eunwoo’s departures became longer, his return visits shorter.

Instead of spending afternoons with his father, Kazoo now found himself in the care of his grandmother. She was kind, gentle, and endlessly patient, always ready with a warm embrace and comforting words. She would sing him lullabies, teach him words in a soft, melodic tone, and prepare his favorite meals. Under her care, Kazoo was never lonely, but deep down, he missed the way his father used to be around more often.

One evening, as Kazoo sat on the floor playing with his toys, he heard the faint sound of the front door opening. His small heart leaped with excitement. “Papa?” he called out, his voice hopeful.

Cha Eunwoo stepped inside, exhaustion evident in his features, but his smile was as radiant as ever. “Kazoo,”

he greeted, kneeling down and opening his arms. The toddler wasted no time rushing into his embrace.

“I miss Papa,”

Kazoo mumbled against his shoulder, his words slightly muffled but clear enough to make Eunwoo’s heart ache.

Cha Eunwoo held him tighter, guilt creeping into his expression.

“I miss you too, buddy. I promise I’ll make more time, okay?”

Kazoo wasn’t sure if that promise would last, but for now, he held onto his father’s warmth, savoring the moment before he had to let go again.

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