I Became a Lost Child
The event was in full swing, spread across a hall about the size of a decent gymnasium. Booths of every kind filled the space, among them a tasting pavilion where visitors could eat grapes at their freshest, and the fruit had been turned into all sorts of things—ice cream, drinks, wine, and more.
Of everything on offer, the grape drinks were what caught my eye. My throat was parched, and grape juice sounded perfect. As if under a spell, I drifted toward the booth handing it out. Paper cups of the stuff sat on display, practically begging to be tasted.
"H—Hana! Where are you going?"
Haru caught my hand as I wandered, entranced, toward the juice. I came back to myself. Drifting off in a trance like that... this grape juice was no ordinary thing. I turned to her.
"I want grape juice, Haru! I'm thirsty."
"Yeah? Then we go together. Look how many people there are—what are you going to do if you get lost?"
She wasn't wrong. The experience hall was packed. Whether it was Chairman Sehee's connections or a social media campaign that had simply done its job, people had poured in from every corner of the country. I, of course, had no idea that merely showing up here earned you a free box of grapes.
The advertising strategy Chairman Sehee had laid out was working like a charm. Koreans had always been helpless before the word free. Put up a sign promising a complimentary Americano and the line would stretch without end—that was simply how it went. Watching people waste that much time for a buck-fifty coffee, I couldn't help thinking something about it was off.
Then again, waiting in line looked entirely different depending on whether you were the one standing in it or the one watching from outside. For the people in line, it was often as much about making a memory as getting the drink. Waiting was one of those parallel lines where neither side could quite understand the other.
At any rate, weaving through the crowd, we made it to the booth giving out grape juice, Haru stuck close at my heels. She really did seem convinced I was going to get lost. I wasn't some little kid—how could getting lost even make sense? I was absolutely, positively not going to lose my way.
I drank one of the paper cups. True to my grapes, the flavor was outstanding. Inferior grape juice left a thick, cloying film on the tongue, but this had none of that. It was so clean and bright that even people who hated grape juice might come around after a single sip. That was how good it was.
Haru took a drink and let out a gasp of admiration.
"Wow, as expected... the grapes you made are the best, Hana!"
"Right, Haru? I am pretty amazing."
Of course, all I had really done was hand over a tooth. Growing the grapes was Chairman Sehee's work. Even so, without me these grapes never would have come into the world, so I had no choice but to conclude that I was amazing. If I hadn't been here, neither would they.
And so, taking Haru's hand, I moved on. There were so many grape-made foods that tasting them one by one was a pleasure all its own.
"Haru! Haru! Let's go over there!"
I didn't even look back. I caught hold of a hand and announced that we were going somewhere else—but Haru's voice never answered from behind me. What I heard instead belonged to a stranger.
"Little one. Mind letting go of my hand?"
I turned and found a beautiful woman smiling at me as she spoke. I flinched and let go at once. She laughed and vanished into the crowd, and a cold sweat broke over me. Haru was gone.
"Haru, honestly. Always so scatterbrained."
Fortunately I had my phone, so it hardly mattered. I dug through my pockets, searching for it, but my hand came up empty. Then I remembered—I had left the phone back at the building.
"Ah..."
Inside this building, swarming with people, I had become a lost child.
"Waaah!!!"
I pushed through the crowd, searching for Haru, but she was nowhere to be seen. I fought desperately to hold the tears back. Lost like a little kid... If I was supposed to have any claim to being an adult, this was an instant disqualification. Still, I had no choice but to drag my unwilling feet forward. I needed to find Haru over the announcement system, didn't I?
Then again, I wasn't even sure a place like this had lost-child announcements the way a department store did. This wasn't a department store. Who knew whether they even had that kind of setup? I began inching along. Standing still left me with a strange, anxious feeling.
That was when I spotted the Chairman up on the stage, earnestly explaining something. Color rushed back into my face. All I had to do was go to her and have her call Haru. But I hesitated, and the right moment never quite arrived. Interrupting Chairman Sehee while she was in the middle of something important felt a little wrong.
So I waited for her presentation to end.
Kim Sehee was in the middle of explaining the grapes when she caught sight of a green-haired child in the crowd. The color was so distinctive that she could pick the girl out at a glance, even from far away. Hana was watching her with an anxious face, and Kim Sehee wanted to stop the presentation on the spot and run to her.
Even so, there wasn't much left, and she couldn't simply cut it short and leave. She finished the last of her remarks, then stepped down from the stage.
"Chairman!!!"
Hana came running from across the hall. Kim Sehee's bodyguards moved on instinct to intercept the child charging toward her, but they knew Hana, and the moment they recognized her they stopped. They might not have fully understood how Kim Sehee felt about the girl, but she treated Hana like her own child, so the guards, with a little discretion, simply let her through.
Kim Sehee caught the running girl in her arms and felt, yet again, how much heavier she was getting. Was this how uncles felt, watching their nieces and nephews grow? It didn't matter. It was proof that Hana was growing, and children became adults someday. Kim Sehee had no reason to stand in the way of that.
All she had to do was enjoy the time while Hana was still a child. Someday, when Hana grew up, this would remain only as a memory—which was all the more reason to hold her now.
"But Hana, why are you by yourself?"
She was certain the girl had come with a staff member, yet looking around, there wasn't even a shadow of one. As if she had been waiting for exactly those words, Hana answered with perfect confidence.
"I came with Haru, but I think Haru got lost!"
"Is that so...?"
Realizing it was Hana who had gotten lost, Kim Sehee called the staff. She had long since saved the numbers of everyone assigned to the girl, so all she had to do was find the contact.
The line barely had time to ring before the other side picked up. As if she had been waiting by the phone, a frantic voice spilled through.
"Chairman, by any chance, do you have Hana with you?"
"Yes. We're over by the auditorium. I'll keep Hana with me, so take your time."
"Oh, thank you so much, Chairman! I'll be right there!"
"Want to play with me until Haru gets here, Hana?"
"Yes!"
Hana made no move to climb down from her arms, so Kim Sehee headed for a booth the girl was likely to love. The stars of today's event were the wine and the grapes themselves. Wine, of course, was alcohol Hana wasn't allowed to have, and Kim Sehee had no intention of giving her any. If, by some chance, Hana drank it and got drunk, she would have no face left to claim she was looking after the child.
What adult would give alcohol to a small child? Hana was only in the third grade. So Kim Sehee went to where the grapes were heaped on display, meaning to feed her the Starlight grapes that had only just been harvested. The moment they reached the piles of fruit, Hana's eyes went wide and she began examining them. Faced with so many grapes, she was clearly thrilled.
"This one! This one!"
Hana pointed, choosing her grapes. Kim Sehee picked up the ones she wanted, carefully peeled the skins, and popped them into her mouth. The grapes were quite large, though not so large they couldn't be eaten in a single bite.
Hana tucked one into her mouth, munched on it a few times, and soon broke into a bright smile.
"It's really delicious, Chairman!"
They were delicious enough to earn praise from the very person who had created them.