The Search That Shouldn’t Matter.
791 Words
Lucian did not believe in coincidences.
Everything had a cause.
Everything had a reason.
And yet—
For the past few days, something as small as a name had begun to interfere with his thoughts.
It was… inconvenient.
He stood in his office, the city stretching endlessly beyond the glass. Usually, the view grounded him. Reminded him of control.
Today, it did nothing.
“…Isolde Faylen.”
Again.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Why?
Of all things, why would a memory—fragile, insignificant, years old—refuse to fade?
He had seen worse. Done worse. Survived worse.
And yet…
A girl with trembling hands and tearful eyes had managed to stay.
Not just stay—
Linger.
Grow.
Become… something he could no longer ignore.
---
“Sir.”
Lucian didn’t turn.
“Yes?”
His assistant hesitated for half a second too long.
“There’s still no confirmed match for the name.”
Of course there wasn’t.
A common outcome. A logical result.
So why did it irritate him?
Lucian’s fingers tapped once against the glass.
“Then you’re not looking properly.”
The assistant stiffened.
“We expanded the search radius. Records, hospitals, universities, employment registries—”
“Not enough.”
The interruption was quiet. Final.
Lucian turned now. Slowly.
The assistant immediately lowered his gaze.
That was the effect Lucian had on people who knew him well.
Not just fear—
Awareness.
The kind that made breathing feel like a risk if done incorrectly.
“You’re assuming she stayed the same,” Lucian said.
A pause.
“She didn’t.”
His tone held certainty.
Not hope.
Not guesswork.
Certainty.
Because people changed. The world forced them to.
So if she was still alive—
She was somewhere.
Different.
Hidden.
Waiting.
---
Lucian moved past him.
“Run it again,” he said.
This time, slower.
More deliberate.
“Focus on…”
He paused.
His brows drew together slightly, as if recalling something distant but important.
“She was… kind.”
The assistant blinked.
“…Sir?”
Lucian ignored the confusion.
“People like that don’t disappear. They place themselves where they’re needed.”
A beat.
“…Hospitals. Volunteer centers. Public service sectors.”
The assistant straightened immediately.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll narrow the search.”
Lucian didn’t respond.
Because his thoughts had already drifted again.
---
“I don’t know!”
A soft voice.
Uncertain. Honest.
Not pretending. Not trying to impress him.
Just… real.
His eyes darkened slightly.
No one spoke to him like that anymore.
No one dared.
People calculated their words around him. Measured tone. Adjusted posture.
But her?
She had been afraid.
And still stayed.
Why?
What kind of person does that?
---
“…Gloomy Face!”
His expression shifted—just barely.
Annoyance.
Or something close to it.
That ridiculous name.
Careless. Unrefined.
Unacceptable.
And yet—
He remembered it clearly.
More clearly than he should.
---
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
The assistant returned. Faster this time.
“Sir.”
Lucian didn’t look at him.
But the tension in the air shifted instantly.
“There’s… something.”
That was enough.
Lucian turned.
The assistant swallowed.
“We found a partial match.”
Silence.
“St. Aurora General Hospital.”
Lucian’s gaze sharpened.
“Name registered: Isolde Faylen.”
A pause.
“Occupation—nurse.”
---
Something in the room changed.
Subtle.
But heavy.
Lucian said nothing.
Did nothing.
And somehow—that made it worse.
The assistant felt it immediately, his posture stiffening without thinking.
Because this—
This mattered.
More than anything they had handled all day.
More than money. More than power.
This was different.
---
Lucian’s thoughts slowed. Focused.
A nurse.
Of course.
Kindness… placed where it could be used.
It made sense.
Too much sense.
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
So she was real.
Not just a memory.
Not just something his mind refused to let go of.
She existed.
Somewhere in that city—
Living. Breathing.
Unaware.
---
“…Prepare the car,” he said.
The assistant blinked.
“Sir, you have—”
“Cancel it.”
Again.
No hesitation.
No explanation.
“Y-Yes, Sir.”
---
Lucian turned back to the glass.
But this time—
He wasn’t looking at the city.
He was seeing something else entirely.
A girl standing too close to the edge.
Trembling.
Stubborn.
“I-I don’t know!”
A pause.
“…You could live f-for me…!”
---
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Annoying.
Ridiculous.
Illogical.
And yet—
He had lived.
---
“…Isolde Faylen,” he murmured.
This time, the name didn’t feel distant.
It felt close.
Too close.
---
Somewhere in the city—
She was within reach.
And Lucian…
Was already on his way.
- Writer
