PFC Chapter 336 336: Lost Child
Chapter 336 336: Lost Child
'Huh, how did I get home yesterday…?'
'No, did I even go home?'
"Sister? Are you okay?"
"Ah, yes. I was a little dazed and didn't hear you. Don't worry. I'll definitely find your parents."
That was right. Lena didn't go home yesterday.
She had been looking for this child's parents after he said he got separated from them and lost his way in the park yesterday.
It was fine since she was a superhuman, but she couldn't keep dragging a child around, so she needed to rest.
"Aren't you tired?"
"No, I'm fine."
He was a good kid, not showing his fatigue even though he must be tired.
She thought he only resembled her brother's looks, but he was just like her brother in this aspect too.
She used to take care of him because of this side of him too.
'…Him?'
The image of someone surfaced in her hazy mind, fragmented and disappearing.
'No.'
But that disappearing sensation was strangely unpleasant, so she forcibly held onto the fragment of memory that was trying to disappear.
'Don't run away.'
'You can't go.'
'You're mine. Don't run away.'
The hazy memory became clearer, and the fragmented image, like a mosaic, gradually regained its original form.
Black hair and red eyes.
The image of a boy with a constantly sullen expression gradually surfaced in her mind.
Evans OO.
A name with a part she couldn't remember came to her mind.
"Si-sister?"
"Yes?"
Ah, the moment she answered, the memory she had been trying so hard to recall scattered again.
But it was okay.
Evans OO.
Since she hadn't completely forgotten, she would remember it again.
It was enough that she recalled one part of his name for now.
She would find this child's parents and slowly recall it.
Lena gently exhaled and looked down at the child standing beside her.
His small hand was still gripping the edge of her sleeve, careful and polite, as if afraid she might disappear if he let go.
"It'll be okay," she said again, softer this time.
The child nodded, though his eyes wandered around the park, unease flickering across his face before he quickly hid it.
They began walking slowly along the paved path, retracing the places he remembered visiting with his parents. Lena scanned the surroundings while keeping her pace deliberately slow, matching his shorter steps.
People passed by occasionally—families, couples, joggers—but none stopped, and none looked familiar to the child.
"…They were right here," he said after a while, pointing toward a bench beneath a large tree. "I was watching the pigeons."
Lena followed his gaze.
The bench was empty now, sunlight filtering through the leaves above it.
"I see," she replied. "Let's look around nearby."
As they moved closer, a faint ache pulsed behind her eyes.
Again.
That strange sensation—as if something important was brushing against her consciousness, just out of reach.
Evans.
The name echoed faintly, like a sound heard underwater.
Her steps slowed for a brief moment.
'Why does that name feel so heavy?'
She pressed a hand against her temple, steadying herself before the discomfort could deepen.
"Sister?" the child asked, tilting his head. "Are you dizzy again?"
"I'm fine," Lena said immediately, lowering her hand. She offered a small smile to reassure him. "Just thinking."
The ache receded, but the unease lingered.
She glanced down at the child once more.
For some reason, the way he stood there—quiet, patient, pretending not to be scared—made her chest tighten.
'I won't lose you,' she thought, though she didn't know who the words were meant for.
"Let's keep looking," Lena said.
And as they walked on, the forgotten name lingered at the edge of her mind, waiting for the moment she was ready to remember the rest of it.
They circled the bench once, then twice.
Nothing.
The pigeons had long since flown off, and the laughter that must have filled this place yesterday was nowhere to be found. Only the rustling leaves and distant chatter remained.
Lena crouched down in front of the child.
"Do you remember anything else?" she asked gently. "Even something small is fine."
He hesitated, fingers tightening around her sleeve again.
"…My mom bought ice cream," he said after a moment. "Vanilla. It melted really fast."
Lena smiled faintly.
"Then there's probably a shop nearby," she said. "Let's try looking for it."
They headed toward the park's main path, where food carts and small stalls lined the walkway. The scent of sugar and fried dough lingered in the air.
As they passed an ice cream stand, the child stopped abruptly.
His grip tightened.
"This—this is it," he said quietly. "We were here."
Lena followed his gaze.
The vendor was different, and the menu board had changed, but the location matched. She felt a subtle pulse run through her body, her senses instinctively sharpening.
She scanned the area.
No frantic parents.
No familiar faces.
Only strangers passing by, absorbed in their own worlds.
"…They were right behind me," the child murmured. "I turned around, and they were gone."
Lena straightened slowly.
That hollow ache returned, sharper this time, stabbing behind her eyes.
Lost.
Separated.
Gone.
Images flickered at the edge of her vision—an outstretched hand, red eyes widened in panic, a voice calling her name.
Her breath hitched.
'Evans…'
The name surfaced again, stronger than before.
Her heart pounded.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, grounding herself.
Not now.
She couldn't afford to lose focus.
She looked down at the child.
"Listen to me," she said firmly, though her voice remained warm. "I promise I won't leave you alone. We'll find them."
The child looked up at her, eyes shining.
"…Really?"
"Really."
He nodded, trusting her without hesitation.
Something inside her twisted painfully.
She straightened and took his hand properly this time, no longer letting him cling to her sleeve as if she might vanish.
"Let's ask the staff," Lena said. "Someone might have seen them."
They approached the ice cream vendor, and Lena briefly explained the situation. The man frowned, shaking his head apologetically.
"I didn't see anything," he said. "But you should try the park office. Lost kids usually get reported there."
Lena thanked him and turned away.
The park office.
That sounded right.
As they walked, the ache in her head dulled into a steady pressure, as if something was aligning, piece by piece.
Evans.
Black hair.
Red eyes.
A boy who hated smiling.
Her pace slowed.
A sudden fear crept into her chest—not for the child beside her, but for the memory clawing its way back to the surface.
'If I remember…'
She didn't finish the thought.
Instead, she tightened her grip on the child's hand.
Whatever she had forgotten, whatever name she had buried—
She would face it after this.
For now, she was here.
And she wasn't letting go.