The classroom clock ticked far louder than it ever had before.
Lawrence sat by the window, his leg bouncing uncontrollably under the desk. The teacher's voice faded in and out like static. Today wasn't a day for studying, or formulas, or whatever lesson was being drilled into them. Today was special.
Because today… he was becoming an older brother.
His phone had buzzed during lunch with the message he'd been waiting for:
> Dad: "She's in labor. Your mom is going to deliver today."
From that moment on, nothing else existed. Not the classmates chatting behind him. Not the pile of assignments stacked on his desk. Not even the final bell that had yet to ring.
Lawrence clenched his fists, trying to calm his racing heart.
(A sibling… I'm finally going to have a little sister or brother. I wonder… will they look like me? Or more like Mom?)
His imagination painted vivid images of holding a tiny baby, their fragile hand wrapping around his finger. He smiled unconsciously, earning a strange look from the boy sitting in front of him.
"Lawrence, you okay? You look like you're about to explode," whispered a friend.
"Can you blame me? I'm about to become a big brother today."
The boy's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's awesome, man! Congrats!"
"Thanks." Lawrence rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just… I can't sit still right now."
As if on cue, the classroom door slid open, and the vice-principal stepped in. He called the teacher out for a brief word. The murmurs of the students filled the silence.
Lawrence stared at the door. His chest tightened. His dad's voice echoed in his head from this morning:
> "Don't rush, Lawrence. Finish your classes first. Your mom and I will wait for you at the hospital. Everything will be fine."
He had nodded then, trying to act mature. But now? Sitting here, knowing that at this very moment his mother was in labor?
It was unbearable.
(I can't just sit here. What if something happens? What if Mom needs me?)
His knee hit the desk as he stood up abruptly.
"Lawrence?" the teacher blinked, returning just as he reached the door.
"Sorry, sensei. Family emergency. I'll… I'll make up the lesson later!"
Before anyone could stop him, he bolted out into the hallway, the startled gasps of classmates fading behind him.
---
The afternoon sun was blinding as he rushed down the school steps. His lungs burned, but adrenaline drowned out everything else. He cut through streets he'd walked a thousand times, yet today each corner seemed sharper, each light too slow to change.
The city was alive with honking cars, chatter, and the occasional ringing of bicycle bells. But to Lawrence, it was just noise. White noise between him and the hospital.
(Hang on, Mom. Dad. I'll be there. I want to be the first one to see them… my little sibling.)
The traffic light ahead blinked from green to red. A crowd gathered at the crosswalk, waiting. Lawrence skidded to a stop, panting heavily.
That's when he noticed him.
A boy, maybe seven or eight years old, standing alone at the edge of the road. His dark shade glasses reflected the harsh sunlight. He wasn't moving, even though the crowd pressed forward and back with impatience. A small phone was clutched in his hand, pressed to his ear.
At first, Lawrence thought nothing of it—until he realized.
The boy wasn't looking at the lights. He wasn't reacting at all.
"…He's blind."
The realization hit him hard. And in the next instant—
"HEY! WATCH OUT!" a woman screamed.
A monstrous honk tore through the air.
From the corner of his eye, Lawrence saw it: a massive truck barreling down the street, the driver desperately slamming the horn, but far too late to brake.
The boy stood there, oblivious.
Time fractured into sharp pieces. The world slowed.
(He'll die.)
Lawrence didn't think. His body moved before his mind could.
His legs pushed off the pavement with everything he had. His arms reached out, scooping the small body into his chest. The boy let out a startled gasp, his phone clattering to the ground—
And then the impact came.
---
Pain like fire exploded through Lawrence's body. His vision blurred as the world spun violently. The cries of the crowd became distant echoes.
(Did… I save him?)
The boy's terrified voice echoed faintly in his ears, but then vanished.
Lawrence's body felt heavy. Too heavy. His breath came out shallow, wet, tasting of iron. Darkness tugged at the edges of his sight.
(Why… why does it feel so cold?)
And then—
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard it.
Not his father's voice. Not his own name being called.
But the faint, delicate sound of a baby crying.
No… not crying.
It shifted. Warped.
And became a smile.
The image of a newborn, his little sister, swaddled in blankets—her lips curving upward, as if smiling directly at him.
His heart clenched.
(So warm… so small… I wish… I wish I could hold her…)
A single tear rolled down his cheek. His body convulsed once, and then grew still.
That smile was the last thing he saw.
---
And in the darkness that followed, Lawrence thought he heard a voice. A gentle one, far away, yet close.
"Welcome… Zack."