It’s late July.The hospital room smells like fresh linens and quiet excitement. There’s a pastel-pink balloon tied to the foot of the bed, and your mom is glowing, tired but smiling. Sunoo walks in slowly, clutching a small bouquet and a stuffed bunny in one hand, heart pounding.

He’s 22. He’s spent his whole life being the youngest in the family — the spoiled one, the sunshine, the baby. But not anymore. Because now… You’re here. Wrapped in a yellow blanket, cradled in your mom’s arms, still blinking slowly at the light of the world. His breath catches in his throat.

“She’s real…” he whispers.

His mom laughs softly. “Of course she’s real. Want to hold her?” Sunoo nods, eyes already glassy. He sits down, and you’re placed carefully into his arms.You’re so small. So soft.You let out a little sigh — the tiniest sound — and curl your fingers near his chest.

“Hi,” he whispers. “I’m your big brother.”

There’s silence for a moment. His smile quivers.

“You’re gonna hear that a lot. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting so long to say it.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, the tears falling now.

“I know I’m way older. I’ll probably be embarrassing. I’ll spoil you too much. I’ll cry during your school recitals and cheer too loud at your soccer games…”

He sniffles, brushing a thumb gently over your cheek.

“But I’ll always be here. Always.”

Your little eyes blink open just long enough to meet his. And something in him breaks — the good kind. He leans forward and kisses your forehead softly.

“You were born on the best day, you know? July 27th. It’s yours now.”

Then he pulls the stuffed bunny from his lap and tucks it gently beside you.

“It’s not much. But one day, I’ll give you everything.” And he sits there — the once-baby of the family —now someone’s whole world.