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Heiner stared at the business card for a moment, then surprisingly showed no reaction. He simply put the business card in his pants pocket instead of his bag.
An uncomfortable silence flowed. Annette, who had been fiddling with her teacup, hesitantly spoke.
“... Ansgar, you know.”
Heiner's hands, which were repacking his belongings back into his bag, paused for a moment. He closed the bag with a natural movement, as if nothing had happened, and raised his head.
“If I follow that kid.”
Annette lowered her eyes and continued speaking quietly.
"Would that be a better option for me? I'm not saying I'll follow him. I'm just wondering what you think."
“I don’t know what answer you want from me.”
“Are there any restoration forces in France?”
Heiner's eyes narrowed slightly at the direct question.
“Heiner, you know, right?”
"Did Ansgar Stetter say something like that? That there are royalist forces in France, so let's join them?"
“No, I just thought of it myself. Ansgar just asked me to go with him.”
“If you think so, why are you asking me?”
"I'm letting you know. I have nothing to hide from you, and I won't be following Ansgar secretly."
The content asserted her innocence, but her voice was not particularly desperate. Heiner's face, listening to these words, showed no particular emotion.
“...The next best. That could be possible.”
He blurted out something dryly as he was thinking about something.
"In the past, Ansgar Stetter had a crush on you, and you're currently single. And if, as you believe, there are royalist forces in France, they'll treat you well. But I can't guarantee it. Your reputation in Padania is the worst, so he might think you're of little use."
Heiner paused for a moment and smiled coldly.
"You say there's no place to be happy, but at least you've found a place that will accept you. It's a useless family, after all."
"As I said, I won't follow Ansgar. My guess might be wrong. However..."
Annette continued in a cautious tone.
“Just in case you didn’t know... I just wanted to let you know about the possibility of a restoration force within France. Of course, you might already know—”
“You won’t gain anything by telling me that.”
His gray eyes, like those of a pusher, slowly slid down, then up again. The tips of his hair, facing away from the light, appeared pale yellow.
Annette smiled bitterly.
“Wasn’t it about trying to make the world a better place?”
Was the world now a better place than before? Annette couldn't sense it. The new world was too harsh for her.
But people said the world was a much better place, and it would get better.
If that's the case, then that's true. She's not wise, she's a foolish woman. She's never judged herself, and even if she were to judge now, it would be wrong.
Her words to Annelie Engels were also sincere. Annette respected the cause of those who sought to change the world, even if that cause was infinitely cruel to her.
Even if you can't empathize.
Feelings like revenge and resentment had long since vanished. They were just old scars, like the ashes of a burnt-out fire.
In the silence, Heiner's breathing was heard. It was as even and regular as his nature.
“...I never asked for that kind of sympathy from you.”
After a moment of silence, Heiner placed his hand on the blanket. He then leaned closer to her. Annette's shoulders shrugged slightly as his stern face drew closer.
A low voice descended.
“Don’t think about anything, Annette. Just go with the flow.”
“...”
“You’re good at it.”
Clearly, she was the one being mocked, but for some reason, Heiner's eyes looked hurt. He quickly erased the expression, his face cool again, and he spoke.
"I know better than you that Ansgar Stetter wanted you. If you hadn't married me, he would have been your husband. I don't believe you."
“I never loved him.”
“Are the marriages of nobles ever based on love alone?”
Heiner was right. They were a unique case, having fallen in love and eventually married. In fact, even that was a lie.
The tea had already cooled. Annette muttered softly.
“I mean it, whether you believe it or not.”
If following Ansgar was the lesser option, she already knew the best option.
Their gazes met, their meaning unclear. Annette took another sip of tea and placed the cup on the side table.
“I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”
Heiner stared down at her face, as if trying to confirm her words. When Annette turned her head, he leaned forward.
Annette turned over and lay down. As Heiner turned off the gas lamp, darkness fell over the room in an instant.
There was a rustling sound behind her, as someone lay down. Annette closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. Their untouched bodies slowly cooled like tea.
Heiner rose from his bed at dawn. Light filtered in through the curtains, which hadn't been completely closed, bathing the bed in a pale glow.
He silently threw off the blanket and looked at the woman lying down away from him. Annette, who seemed unable to fall asleep late into the night, was already in a trance.
Her face, curled up tightly, was buried in the blanket. The white blanket rose and fell in small, rhythmic movements.
Heiner leaned in close without realizing it. Her white cheeks were visible between her hair and the blanket.
He absentmindedly reached out and stopped. Then he withdrew his hand and washed his face dry.
'It's uncomfortable. I should have just gotten a separate room... '
It had been a long time since he shared a bed with Annette. He originally planned to get a different room, but he felt strangely uneasy.
Even Heiner himself didn't know exactly what was bothering him.
Heiner tried to banish the image of the woman submerged in seawater from his mind. He rose silently from the bed and walked toward the coat rack.
Heiner, who was pulling a cigar from his coat pocket, suddenly noticed a bulge in the pocket of Annette's cardigan hanging next to him.
He took out the contents of her pocket. Something glimmered in the darkness. He thought it was a jewel, but upon closer inspection, he saw it was just useless fragments.
'What is all this garbage?'
He was wondering what she was working so hard to collect, and it was all this.
For some reason, he felt uneasy. Heiner threw them in the trash can and went out onto the balcony. The open air made breathing much easier.
Heiner couldn't stay in a dark, confined space for long. His condition had improved, so it wasn't completely impossible, but he still felt mentally drained.
It was because of the memories from the torture chamber.
The only person who knew this was his psychiatrist. Everyone else who might have known was long dead.
The chilly night breeze blew through his hair. Heiner stared out at the dark sea, his cigar unlit. He could hear the sound of waves crashing in the distance.
He wasn't a heavy smoker. He'd been a quitter for quite some time, but when his mind was racing, a cigar would dull his thoughts a little. Even without lighting it.
'Is it psychological?'
Heiner observed many instances of this kind of psychological pattern: people complaining of pain in a leg that had been amputated long ago, or people tricked into taking placebo pills during wartime shortages, only to believe they were effective.
He rolled his eyes and looked down at the cigar he was smoking. A whitish-brown stick caught his eye.
He quit smoking six years ago, around the time he started dating Annette. Although she never showed any aversion to the smoke or the smell, he voluntarily quit smoking.
There was no need to look good anymore, so there was no need to quit smoking. But Heiner still couldn't start a cigar. Because...
As the accident reached that point, Heiner faintly frowned. He clicked his tongue slightly and leaned his arm over the railing.
“You must have found me really funny.”
If that were the case, he wouldn't feel so dirty.
No matter how much you drag it down and trample it down, is it your problem or mine that it still looks so damn noble?
Heiner smiled bitterly. He'd been pondering this for a long time, but still couldn't come to a conclusion.
Annette Valdemar.
You touch my lowest and most vulnerable parts.
Make me infinitely miserable.
At least this is your problem and your fault.
Heiner pulled the cigar out of his mouth and straightened his upper body. He turned and entered the guest room. He put the cigar back in his coat pocket and looked into the trash can for a moment.
The things Annette had picked up had lost their sparkle and were now hidden in the darkness.
“My heart is of no use anyway.”
Your mind is not useless.
Heiner quietly licked his lips.
He hopes she feels the despair of not being reciprocated. He hopes she suffers from the reality she can't reach. He hopes she feels miserable because her heart still holds on despite all that.
Just like he did someday.
So at least Heiner needed her heart.
Heiner raised his head with a sullen expression. After checking that Annette was still asleep, he quietly entered the bathroom.
He turned on the tap, and cold water poured out. He stood still for a moment, his fingertips in the running water.
He felt the trash she had picked up on the beach rattling inside his body.
An uncomfortable silence flowed. Annette, who had been fiddling with her teacup, hesitantly spoke.
“... Ansgar, you know.”
Heiner's hands, which were repacking his belongings back into his bag, paused for a moment. He closed the bag with a natural movement, as if nothing had happened, and raised his head.
“If I follow that kid.”
Annette lowered her eyes and continued speaking quietly.
"Would that be a better option for me? I'm not saying I'll follow him. I'm just wondering what you think."
“I don’t know what answer you want from me.”
“Are there any restoration forces in France?”
Heiner's eyes narrowed slightly at the direct question.
“Heiner, you know, right?”
"Did Ansgar Stetter say something like that? That there are royalist forces in France, so let's join them?"
“No, I just thought of it myself. Ansgar just asked me to go with him.”
“If you think so, why are you asking me?”
"I'm letting you know. I have nothing to hide from you, and I won't be following Ansgar secretly."
The content asserted her innocence, but her voice was not particularly desperate. Heiner's face, listening to these words, showed no particular emotion.
“...The next best. That could be possible.”
He blurted out something dryly as he was thinking about something.
"In the past, Ansgar Stetter had a crush on you, and you're currently single. And if, as you believe, there are royalist forces in France, they'll treat you well. But I can't guarantee it. Your reputation in Padania is the worst, so he might think you're of little use."
Heiner paused for a moment and smiled coldly.
"You say there's no place to be happy, but at least you've found a place that will accept you. It's a useless family, after all."
"As I said, I won't follow Ansgar. My guess might be wrong. However..."
Annette continued in a cautious tone.
“Just in case you didn’t know... I just wanted to let you know about the possibility of a restoration force within France. Of course, you might already know—”
“You won’t gain anything by telling me that.”
His gray eyes, like those of a pusher, slowly slid down, then up again. The tips of his hair, facing away from the light, appeared pale yellow.
Annette smiled bitterly.
“Wasn’t it about trying to make the world a better place?”
Was the world now a better place than before? Annette couldn't sense it. The new world was too harsh for her.
But people said the world was a much better place, and it would get better.
If that's the case, then that's true. She's not wise, she's a foolish woman. She's never judged herself, and even if she were to judge now, it would be wrong.
Her words to Annelie Engels were also sincere. Annette respected the cause of those who sought to change the world, even if that cause was infinitely cruel to her.
Even if you can't empathize.
Feelings like revenge and resentment had long since vanished. They were just old scars, like the ashes of a burnt-out fire.
In the silence, Heiner's breathing was heard. It was as even and regular as his nature.
“...I never asked for that kind of sympathy from you.”
After a moment of silence, Heiner placed his hand on the blanket. He then leaned closer to her. Annette's shoulders shrugged slightly as his stern face drew closer.
A low voice descended.
“Don’t think about anything, Annette. Just go with the flow.”
“...”
“You’re good at it.”
Clearly, she was the one being mocked, but for some reason, Heiner's eyes looked hurt. He quickly erased the expression, his face cool again, and he spoke.
"I know better than you that Ansgar Stetter wanted you. If you hadn't married me, he would have been your husband. I don't believe you."
“I never loved him.”
“Are the marriages of nobles ever based on love alone?”
Heiner was right. They were a unique case, having fallen in love and eventually married. In fact, even that was a lie.
The tea had already cooled. Annette muttered softly.
“I mean it, whether you believe it or not.”
If following Ansgar was the lesser option, she already knew the best option.
Their gazes met, their meaning unclear. Annette took another sip of tea and placed the cup on the side table.
“I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”
Heiner stared down at her face, as if trying to confirm her words. When Annette turned her head, he leaned forward.
Annette turned over and lay down. As Heiner turned off the gas lamp, darkness fell over the room in an instant.
There was a rustling sound behind her, as someone lay down. Annette closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. Their untouched bodies slowly cooled like tea.
***
Heiner rose from his bed at dawn. Light filtered in through the curtains, which hadn't been completely closed, bathing the bed in a pale glow.
He silently threw off the blanket and looked at the woman lying down away from him. Annette, who seemed unable to fall asleep late into the night, was already in a trance.
Her face, curled up tightly, was buried in the blanket. The white blanket rose and fell in small, rhythmic movements.
Heiner leaned in close without realizing it. Her white cheeks were visible between her hair and the blanket.
He absentmindedly reached out and stopped. Then he withdrew his hand and washed his face dry.
'It's uncomfortable. I should have just gotten a separate room... '
It had been a long time since he shared a bed with Annette. He originally planned to get a different room, but he felt strangely uneasy.
Even Heiner himself didn't know exactly what was bothering him.
Heiner tried to banish the image of the woman submerged in seawater from his mind. He rose silently from the bed and walked toward the coat rack.
Heiner, who was pulling a cigar from his coat pocket, suddenly noticed a bulge in the pocket of Annette's cardigan hanging next to him.
He took out the contents of her pocket. Something glimmered in the darkness. He thought it was a jewel, but upon closer inspection, he saw it was just useless fragments.
'What is all this garbage?'
He was wondering what she was working so hard to collect, and it was all this.
For some reason, he felt uneasy. Heiner threw them in the trash can and went out onto the balcony. The open air made breathing much easier.
Heiner couldn't stay in a dark, confined space for long. His condition had improved, so it wasn't completely impossible, but he still felt mentally drained.
It was because of the memories from the torture chamber.
The only person who knew this was his psychiatrist. Everyone else who might have known was long dead.
The chilly night breeze blew through his hair. Heiner stared out at the dark sea, his cigar unlit. He could hear the sound of waves crashing in the distance.
He wasn't a heavy smoker. He'd been a quitter for quite some time, but when his mind was racing, a cigar would dull his thoughts a little. Even without lighting it.
'Is it psychological?'
Heiner observed many instances of this kind of psychological pattern: people complaining of pain in a leg that had been amputated long ago, or people tricked into taking placebo pills during wartime shortages, only to believe they were effective.
He rolled his eyes and looked down at the cigar he was smoking. A whitish-brown stick caught his eye.
He quit smoking six years ago, around the time he started dating Annette. Although she never showed any aversion to the smoke or the smell, he voluntarily quit smoking.
There was no need to look good anymore, so there was no need to quit smoking. But Heiner still couldn't start a cigar. Because...
As the accident reached that point, Heiner faintly frowned. He clicked his tongue slightly and leaned his arm over the railing.
“You must have found me really funny.”
If that were the case, he wouldn't feel so dirty.
No matter how much you drag it down and trample it down, is it your problem or mine that it still looks so damn noble?
Heiner smiled bitterly. He'd been pondering this for a long time, but still couldn't come to a conclusion.
Annette Valdemar.
You touch my lowest and most vulnerable parts.
Make me infinitely miserable.
At least this is your problem and your fault.
Heiner pulled the cigar out of his mouth and straightened his upper body. He turned and entered the guest room. He put the cigar back in his coat pocket and looked into the trash can for a moment.
The things Annette had picked up had lost their sparkle and were now hidden in the darkness.
“My heart is of no use anyway.”
Your mind is not useless.
Heiner quietly licked his lips.
He hopes she feels the despair of not being reciprocated. He hopes she suffers from the reality she can't reach. He hopes she feels miserable because her heart still holds on despite all that.
Just like he did someday.
So at least Heiner needed her heart.
Heiner raised his head with a sullen expression. After checking that Annette was still asleep, he quietly entered the bathroom.
He turned on the tap, and cold water poured out. He stood still for a moment, his fingertips in the running water.
He felt the trash she had picked up on the beach rattling inside his body.
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