N had spent her entire life being compared to a ghost. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and although her father never blamed her, Y/N had always felt like he looked at her and saw the woman he had lost. So after her mother died, her father became obsessed with science. At first, he had still been a father. He cooked for her. Took her to school. Helped her with homework. Told her stories about her mother. But gradually, the laboratory consumed him. One experiment became another. One discovery became another. And eventually, Y/N stopped seeing her father at all. The only proof that he was still in the house were the sounds coming from behind the locked laboratory door. Machines humming. Glass breaking. Her father muttering to himself. And Y/N? She started acting out. Skipping school. Sneaking out. Getting into fights. Stealing little things. Breaking rules simply because she wanted someone to finally look at her and say: “What is wrong with you?” But her father never did. He was always too busy. Until one day— The laboratory door opened. Y/N was sitting on the stairs, expecting to hear the usual footsteps. Instead, her father emerged. His hair was messy. His glasses were crooked. His lab coat was stained. But he was smiling.