Two

Follow the baby blue line, they said. It can’t be missed, they said.

Either they all lied to him or Donghae has a horrible sense of direction. Or maybe it’s a bit of both; he’s not entirely sure. To be completely honest, he doesn’t even know what ‘baby blue’ looks like.

It’s on a gloomy Thursday afternoon that Donghae finds himself wandering around the buildings of the Seoul National University Hospital. He’s trying actively to find the maternity ward, where his sister-in-law has been admitted the day before, until she gives birth to his niece. Which might possibly be tonight—or even in a few hours. He hopes to see her and his older brother before that happens.

It doesn’t appear very likely anymore though.

As he contemplates whether the line he’s staring at is ‘baby blue’ or ‘navy blue’—not that he really understands the difference—Donghae lets out a frustrated sigh and glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost four o’clock, which means that he’s been in there for nearly half an hour already. This is probably the moment upon which he should admit to himself that he’s lost, he thinks mournfully. The mere confession is painful to make. For God’s sake, he huffs and throws a petulant look around the hospital’s white hallways.

“Where the hell is the maternity ward?!” Donghae finally demands aloud.

No-one seems to hear him.

*

Today, much like any other, is a busy day at the hospital. Hyukjae has to stifle a small yawn as he walks over to the reception of the maternity ward, ready to meet another patient. A rather impressive number of them are sitting in the waiting area, some nervous and some excited, which prompts him to try and be more alert. Babies, he tells himself with an enthusiastic grin. Come on, Hyukjae—for the babies.

“Hello, Hyorin-ssi,” he greets the secretary at the counter and smiles slightly when she only gives him a curt nod, focused on her own task. He glances behind him, sees a pregnant woman struggling to reach for a magazine over her swollen belly and chuckles softly at the adorable sight. “Who’s next in line, then?”

The younger woman grabs a green paper that has been put on top of a high pile of other similar documents, and then hands it to him. It reads Mrs. Han; 27 years old, third week of pregnancy, among a few other details that are either not as important or more technical. He’s looking over her vague medical history and is busy listing the questions he’ll have to ask her, when he hears it for the first time.

Where the hell is the maternity ward?!

Hyukjae startles and stops, confused. Mrs. Han forgotten for a moment, he frowns and looks around the entrance of the ward. Hyorin glances up at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly while he stays in place for apparently no good reason.

It’s… right here? he finds himself answering in response to the strange thought. I’m… right in it? I’ve been here since seven o’clock this morning.

An odd sensation of déjà-vu nags at the back of his mind, but he’s too bemused and alarmed to recognize it for what it is right away. He blinks instead, now only hearing silence, or something that sounds close to it anyway. Then, as he thinks it’s over, his brain seems to speak up over the rest of his busy inner ramblings once again.

Oh, bro, nice! It’s right here! it exclaims cheerfully.

This time, Hyukjae nearly yelps in shock.

“Of course it’s here!” he exclaims out loud, and the secretary makes such a face at him that he’s pretty sure she thinks he’s gone crazy. Something tells him he knows what is happening, he does, but he still finds himself denying it against all rationality. “I literally just told you that!”

“Sir,” Hyorin says flatly after a while. “I believe you should ask for a day off.”

He ignores her and turns around when his stomach seems to be pulling him in this direction. A gasp escapes his mouth. Oh, my ing God, he panics as the doors of the ward open. A fraction of second goes by, before he tenses all over suddenly.