The hallway was bustling with people coming and going, every bit as lively as a shopping mall or shopping street.
Most areas of the hospital were filled with people wearing worried expressions. Only in the maternity ward, where all the newborns gathered, could you see so many smiling faces.
Among all those smiles, one face stood out in particular, marked by pity and regret.
The man had the typical features of a Westerner, with deep-set eyes and a high nose bridge. His face was somewhat long, and he had a tuft of beard on his chin. When our eyes met, a blue glimmer shone in his eyes. But I thought I saw a hint of crimson in them.
My heart beat a little faster. Instinct told me he was the person I was looking for.
But why was I looking for someone?
I couldn't figure it out.
Still puzzled, I heard someone call my name. I turned around and answered, then looked back—but the strange foreigner was gone.
He should have been an especially conspicuous foreigner, but when I saw him just now, my first impression had been the expression on his face.
I was called into the hospital room.
It was packed with people. The newborns were held in their mothers' arms. The women all looked different, but their faces wore the same loving, joyful expressions. Nearly everyone in the hallway had looked the same way.
I stared at the baby.
The woman holding him gestured for me to take him.
I fumbled awkwardly, not knowing what to do. As if I were holding a fragile treasure, I cradled the baby with great care.
He was so light. It wasn't what I'd imagined.
For some reason, I'd always thought a child like this would be heavy.
I should have