SOULMATES

III

"The condition of patient Hazelle Lee poses no imminent danger. However, she may experience slight shortness of breath and headaches. The doctor suggests that a leisurely stroll in the fresh air or a mild pain reliever should suffice in this case," conveyed the nurse, reciting the physician's notes. "Miss Hazelle, do you feel a profound connection with your soulmate?"
Hazelle turned her gaze towards the nurse, momentarily lost in contemplation. The question caught her off guard, yet it struck at the heart of the matter. How should she respond? After all, she had only recently crossed paths with him, her savior, someone who unmistakably shared a connection with her as she did with him. And they had not even exchanged names yet. Could she divulge this information now, when she herself was uncertain? Was it the right course of action? A seemingly simple question, yet one that proved agonizingly difficult to answer. Law observed her, patiently waiting for her reply. He believed the answer was obvious, but somehow, it eluded her. Hazelle knew that by confessing, she risked shattering his heart. Thus, until she acknowledged the bond with the fireman, she chose to remain silent.
"No, I do not," Hazelle finally replied, and the nurse nodded in understanding.
"Very well, that is not a concern. However, if you experience any symptoms, a connection with your soul mate may offer solace," the nurse acknowledged.
"Thank you. Let's go, Law," Hazelle said, rising from the bed, taking hold of his arm.
As they exited the room, Law noticed Hazelle's urgency to leave the hospital, her discomfort, and her yearning to return home and find respite. His heart ached for her, yet she seemed oblivious, always distant. Law understood the reason all too well: Hazelle's peculiar nature rendered her devoid of empathy. It was why he insisted on remaining close to her, fearing that her fragile health might expose her to peril.
"Haze, are you certain you wish to leave the clinic now?" Law inquired gently, hoping to elicit a response devoid of any rudeness. The conversation they had paused on the rooftop echoed in his mind, and he knew he had to tread cautiously, avoiding intrusiveness.
"Yes, Law. There is nothing amiss with me. I bear no visible injuries," Hazelle replied, slowing her pace.
"That is reassuring. Listen, I wanted to discuss the incident with you, you know, since I was present due to work," Law began.
"Please, go ahead."
Law took her hand, leading her to the nearest café, just a few steps away. Hazelle followed calmly, not wanting to add to his worry. Even though she felt nothing, she had no desire to inflict pain upon him. She often imagined how she would feel if she were in his position, burdened by unrequited love. He was an intelligent young man, albeit stubborn. If only he were a touch more selfish, Hazelle's path would be less arduous. Alas.
"May I take your order?" Law asked as they settled at the table.
"I would appreciate an Americano," Hazelle replied.

Law graciously settles the tab for their libations, his timing impeccable, choosing precisely the moment when Hazelle receives her drink and her gaze becomes ensnared by the window's allure. She is physically present, yet her mind seems to ascend to lofty realms, enveloped in ruminations unknown to Law.
"In proximity to the edifice, a young maiden's lifeless form was discovered, her expiration coinciding with the building's fiery turmoil. Were you entangled in this lamentable affair?" Law's words pierce the air with directness, devoid of obfuscation, acknowledging the undeniable fact that he converses with someone intimately acquainted with him. His reverence for his profession knows no bounds.
"To be candid, it was the young woman I endeavored to rescue. You know I often traverse the city's streets after the toils of the day. Our paths intersected when she teetered upon the precipice of self-inflicted demise. But alas, just as we embarked upon our descent, following my fervent efforts to alter her tragic course, calamity befell us, rendering me trapped amidst the wreckage while she sought solace upon the rooftop's edge. I possess scant knowledge beyond this, for my mind, adrift in a tempestuous sea, failed to find its bearings," Hazelle confides.
Law nods pensively, committing Hazelle's account to paper within his diminutive notepad, trusting her integrity, unaware that her complicity lies not in saving souls but in luring them towards self-annihilation, sculpting a half-criminal existence where others are enticed to surrender their existence.
"Is that the entirety of your involvement?" he inquires, and Hazelle shakes her head.
"I arrived a mere five minutes before the tragedy unfolded. There was scarcely an opportunity to exchange words with the young woman. By the way, what knowledge have you acquired regarding her identity?"
Law momentarily hesitates, weighing his response, before revealing, "Yvonne Noriaki, aged twenty-five, burdened by profound melancholia, beset by several previous attempts to extinguish her own flame. Regrettably, no information exists concerning a soulmate, suggesting she may have navigated the shores of existence unaccompanied."
"Ah, so there lies a potential familial connection?" Hazelle probes.
"That remains to be ascertained. As the body yet rests within the confines of the forensic morgue, endeavors to establish familial ties remain a work in progress," Law divulges.
"I perceive," Hazelle murmurs, her americano now depleted, as Law heaves a weighty sigh, burdened by the toils that assail him.
"And how have you fared? How has the realm of your profession treated you?" Law queries.
"Much as expected. I have been on sabbatical for the past two months, temporarily replaced by another skilled neurologist."
"Ah, a well-deserved respite. Undoubtedly, you have dedicated yourself wholeheartedly. I am grateful, for your presence brings solace," Law remarks, a faint smile gracing his lips as he surveys his half-consumed cappuccino.
"And what of your own affairs, beyond the current case?" Hazelle inquires.
"While the impending court proceedings loom overhead, my days are occupied with menial tasks â€" certifying documents and scrutinizing paperwork. A monotonous chore, indeed. Nevertheless, I cherish this serendipitous encounter with you today, Haze."