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[ Your Excellency, your wife was shot and rushed to a hospital in the city. She is currently receiving treatment. ]
The papers rustled in his hands. A moment of silence passed. Heiner put the papers down and asked briefly.
“...What is the status?”
[They say she's unconscious, but not in critical condition. Me, and... ]
“I’ll go right away. I’ll listen to it myself.”
Heiner didn't ask any further questions about the circumstances of the incident, but simply stated it. The subordinates who had been reporting to him looked at him with bewildered expressions.
“Where is the hospital?”
[This is Lutheran Hospital in Launceston.]
Heiner hung up the phone and pressed the pager.
“Have the car waiting below.”
He rose from his seat and put on his coat. His subordinates glanced at each other at the sight of their superior's utterly subdued face.
“I’ll hear the report later.”
"Yep!"
The commander-in-chief gave a brief salute, and his subordinates raised their hands in a determined manner. Heiner strode out of the office without even looking.
With every step he took, he felt his footing unsteady. He clenched his fists, his hands trembling faintly. Everything he heard felt like a terrible noise.
Heiner ran down the stairs without even waiting for the elevator. As soon as he got into his parked car, he opened his mouth.
“Lutheran Hospital. As soon as possible.”
All the way to the hospital, Heiner couldn't hide his nervousness. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a cigar, and lit it. He didn't light it.
Heiner tilted his head back, still smoking a cigar. His fingertips tapped his thighs. Annette wasn't in critical condition. But she was unconscious.
Obvious questions like who, when, where, and why did not arise at this moment.
He just... couldn't think straight. The reports he heard over the phone kept circling around in his head.
Heiner wiped his tired eyes. He absentmindedly touched the back of his neck, feeling a chill, but found nothing.
The car soon arrived in front of the hospital. He tossed his unsmoked cigar into the ashtray and stood up. He quickly entered the hospital and stood at the desk.
“Annette Valdemar. She has a gunshot wound.”
“...Ah, yes! Yes, yes. To, A-4... Mr. Walter! I’ll show you this person.”
A staff member hurried out from inside and personally guided him to the patient's room. Heiner followed, his mouth firmly shut.
As soon as Heiner entered the private room, the doctor followed. He must have rushed in after receiving an urgent report, for beads of sweat formed on the doctor's forehead.
“Yannis, huck, it’s Schultz, it’s an honor to meet you, Your Excellency.”
Heiner didn't even glance at the doctor, but examined Annette, who lay pale. His eyes groped her obsessively. He didn't even realize his own face was disheveled.
“How is her condition?”
"She was transported quickly, and the gunshot wound was not serious, so she was treated safely. Her injuries will soon be healed..."
The doctor hesitated, trailing off. But Heiner, so focused on Annette, didn't notice.
“Your Excellency, I don’t know if you knew, but your wife...”
“...”
“Your wife was pregnant.”
“...”
“It was still early, but unfortunately, she had a miscarriage due to this incident… The injury is expected to recover quickly, but there may be aftereffects of the miscarriage...”
"...What?"
Heiner, who asked the question belatedly, turned his head creaking.
“What did you just say?”
“Ah, well, the lady has had a miscarriage...”
“She was pregnant?”
“Yes, yes. It seems to have been around 11 weeks... When she was brought in, she was bleeding, and that’s why she lost consciousness.”
Heiner remained frozen in place, saying nothing. The doctor added hesitantly.
“I’m sorry to say this, Your Excellency, but in my opinion... it seems that your wife will have difficulty conceiving in the future due to this incident.”
“...”
“Since your wife was already in poor health, I think it would have been difficult for her to have another child even if she had given birth this way.”
Heiner listened, barely able to breathe. The words coming out of the doctor's mouth felt like a nightmare.
Pregnancy... Pregnancy?
Legacy?
The two words clashed in a jumble. Heiner turned his head again, his face awestruck. His gray eyes, looking down at Annette, wavered.
In the past, she desperately wanted to have children. Even when doctors told her she had a constitution that made it difficult for her to have children, she refused to give up.
During the first year of their marriage, they often spent the night together, and even after the revolution, Annette continued to ask for sleepovers.
Perhaps there was hope for pregnancy, a vain delusion that having a child would bring things back to normal.
But despite Annette's efforts, she has not been able to conceive even once in the past four years.
Naturally, the question of her child never surfaced again. Heiner also vaguely suspected she might be infertile.
But Annette was pregnant.
'11 weeks...?'
At that point, it was either their last or their last time sleeping together. Annette hadn't visited their bedroom once before or after the divorce was brought up.
At all times, at that time.
It was as if someone had played a bad prank on him—bad luck. There was no other way to describe it than bad luck.
Heiner traced the chain of events one by one with a sharp mind.
Why did Annette get pregnant? Why did it have to be that time? Why did this happen? Why did she have a miscarriage? Why was she unwell? Why did she never get pregnant again...
His thoughts crumpled like paper. They were incoherent and irrational. Heiner touched his lips with a trembling hand.
“...First of all... Okay.”
'Residual rissue...'
It was a dry, utterly lifeless word. Heiner found it deeply irritating, though he couldn't quite figure out why.
“However, if the bleeding does not stop or the condition is still bad, surgery to scrape out the waste inside may be necessary.”
Heiner tried to listen carefully to every word the doctor said, but he wasn't sure if he was doing it right. Hearing the possible aftereffects of a miscarriage, he struggled to open his mouth.
“Yes, Your Excellency. Is there anything else you would like to know or need?”
“...My wife has always had insomnia, but it seems to have gotten worse recently. Could this be related to the pregnancy?”
"It varies from mother to mother, but you may experience various symptoms during early pregnancy. If you've previously suffered from insomnia, it may worsen."
Annette couldn't remember exactly when her insomnia began to worsen. She had been trying not to consciously consider it.
Heiner clenched his fist, then unclenched it and asked in a low voice.
“Is it okay to continue taking her existing medication?”
“If it’s a medicine she's been taking without any problems, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
"Could you please check for me? If there's a better medicine, please prescribe that."
"Yes, Your Excellency. If you need anything else, please let me know."
“Yes, thank you.”
Even as he responded calmly, Heiner's gaze was still fixed on Annette.
“Yes, then...”
The doctor glanced at the Commander-in-Chief's large back before leaving the room. Feeling a sense of inadequacy, he closed the door with a firm grip.
Bam.
“Phew.”
The doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead and adjusted his gown. The rumored young commander-in-chief had a more menacing air than he'd expected. He was surprisingly handsome, yet possessed a powerful presence.
Her wife was said to be one of the most beautiful women in Launceston, but the photo didn't seem to capture her beauty. The stories that followed were grim, though.
Leaving aside the newspaper stories and the inside story, if you just look at their appearance, they were a perfectly matched couple. Even the way he looked at his wife...
The doctor tilted his head, remembering the commander-in-chief's expression.
Didn't you say that those two were on bad terms?
“Heiner.”
Annette licked her lips as she stood in his bedroom, holding a lamp. The lamp's pale light illuminated Heiner's angular face.
“Are you busy today...? If not...”
The tip of her voice trembled slightly. He must have understood what Annette meant. Despite the countless visits and requests she'd made over the past three years, she hadn't grown accustomed to this strange sense of shame.
Heiner looked down at her silently. Annette bit her lower lip, pulling it slightly. Those ash-like eyes made her feel suffocated.
If you don't like me, just say so.
If you don't like it, just reject it.
Don't kiss me, don't hug me, just throw me away.
The words that were on the tip of her tongue were swallowed again.
Annette bowed her head and carefully grasped the hem of his shirt. She hoped he wouldn't say no. She hoped he wouldn't reject her. She hoped he wouldn't chase her away.
She wanted to reach him. Even though she knew in her head that their relationship was already broken, when he hugged her, everything felt okay.
Even though she knows that misery will remain like dregs after a relationship ends.
Heiner's gray eyes moved from bottom to top, then back again. His gaze fell on the cleavage revealed through the loosely folded gown.
Annette's hand, clutching the hem of her dress, trembled slightly. Heiner took one last look at her hand and quietly led her into the room.
The door closed silently. Annette was pushed into the room, her form slowly swallowed by darkness. Boom. The door closed.
Inside, a single, low-intensity incandescent light was on. Heiner strode over and turned it off. In an instant, the room darkened.
He sat down at the edge of the bed. Annette stepped in front of him and untied her robe. The smooth fabric slid down her shoulders.
Their bodies were close together. A large, warm hand wrapped around her bare waist. In the pitch-black darkness, she could clearly feel his body heat.
Heiner lifted her gently and laid her on the bed. There was a sound of him undressing. The clothes fell to the floor, brushing against her bare skin. Annette squeezed her eyes shut.
There was no conversation. That was all.
The papers rustled in his hands. A moment of silence passed. Heiner put the papers down and asked briefly.
“...What is the status?”
[They say she's unconscious, but not in critical condition. Me, and... ]
“I’ll go right away. I’ll listen to it myself.”
Heiner didn't ask any further questions about the circumstances of the incident, but simply stated it. The subordinates who had been reporting to him looked at him with bewildered expressions.
“Where is the hospital?”
[This is Lutheran Hospital in Launceston.]
Heiner hung up the phone and pressed the pager.
“Have the car waiting below.”
He rose from his seat and put on his coat. His subordinates glanced at each other at the sight of their superior's utterly subdued face.
“I’ll hear the report later.”
"Yep!"
The commander-in-chief gave a brief salute, and his subordinates raised their hands in a determined manner. Heiner strode out of the office without even looking.
With every step he took, he felt his footing unsteady. He clenched his fists, his hands trembling faintly. Everything he heard felt like a terrible noise.
Heiner ran down the stairs without even waiting for the elevator. As soon as he got into his parked car, he opened his mouth.
“Lutheran Hospital. As soon as possible.”
All the way to the hospital, Heiner couldn't hide his nervousness. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a cigar, and lit it. He didn't light it.
Heiner tilted his head back, still smoking a cigar. His fingertips tapped his thighs. Annette wasn't in critical condition. But she was unconscious.
Obvious questions like who, when, where, and why did not arise at this moment.
He just... couldn't think straight. The reports he heard over the phone kept circling around in his head.
Heiner wiped his tired eyes. He absentmindedly touched the back of his neck, feeling a chill, but found nothing.
The car soon arrived in front of the hospital. He tossed his unsmoked cigar into the ashtray and stood up. He quickly entered the hospital and stood at the desk.
“Annette Valdemar. She has a gunshot wound.”
“...Ah, yes! Yes, yes. To, A-4... Mr. Walter! I’ll show you this person.”
A staff member hurried out from inside and personally guided him to the patient's room. Heiner followed, his mouth firmly shut.
As soon as Heiner entered the private room, the doctor followed. He must have rushed in after receiving an urgent report, for beads of sweat formed on the doctor's forehead.
“Yannis, huck, it’s Schultz, it’s an honor to meet you, Your Excellency.”
Heiner didn't even glance at the doctor, but examined Annette, who lay pale. His eyes groped her obsessively. He didn't even realize his own face was disheveled.
“How is her condition?”
"She was transported quickly, and the gunshot wound was not serious, so she was treated safely. Her injuries will soon be healed..."
The doctor hesitated, trailing off. But Heiner, so focused on Annette, didn't notice.
“Your Excellency, I don’t know if you knew, but your wife...”
“...”
“Your wife was pregnant.”
“...”
“It was still early, but unfortunately, she had a miscarriage due to this incident… The injury is expected to recover quickly, but there may be aftereffects of the miscarriage...”
"...What?"
Heiner, who asked the question belatedly, turned his head creaking.
“What did you just say?”
“Ah, well, the lady has had a miscarriage...”
“She was pregnant?”
“Yes, yes. It seems to have been around 11 weeks... When she was brought in, she was bleeding, and that’s why she lost consciousness.”
Heiner remained frozen in place, saying nothing. The doctor added hesitantly.
“I’m sorry to say this, Your Excellency, but in my opinion... it seems that your wife will have difficulty conceiving in the future due to this incident.”
“...”
“Since your wife was already in poor health, I think it would have been difficult for her to have another child even if she had given birth this way.”
Heiner listened, barely able to breathe. The words coming out of the doctor's mouth felt like a nightmare.
Pregnancy... Pregnancy?
Legacy?
The two words clashed in a jumble. Heiner turned his head again, his face awestruck. His gray eyes, looking down at Annette, wavered.
In the past, she desperately wanted to have children. Even when doctors told her she had a constitution that made it difficult for her to have children, she refused to give up.
During the first year of their marriage, they often spent the night together, and even after the revolution, Annette continued to ask for sleepovers.
Perhaps there was hope for pregnancy, a vain delusion that having a child would bring things back to normal.
But despite Annette's efforts, she has not been able to conceive even once in the past four years.
Naturally, the question of her child never surfaced again. Heiner also vaguely suspected she might be infertile.
But Annette was pregnant.
'11 weeks...?'
At that point, it was either their last or their last time sleeping together. Annette hadn't visited their bedroom once before or after the divorce was brought up.
At all times, at that time.
It was as if someone had played a bad prank on him—bad luck. There was no other way to describe it than bad luck.
Heiner traced the chain of events one by one with a sharp mind.
Why did Annette get pregnant? Why did it have to be that time? Why did this happen? Why did she have a miscarriage? Why was she unwell? Why did she never get pregnant again...
His thoughts crumpled like paper. They were incoherent and irrational. Heiner touched his lips with a trembling hand.
“...First of all... Okay.”
“Yes, Your Excellency. The lady will wake up shortly. The residual tissue in the uterus will be expelled naturally.”
It was a dry, utterly lifeless word. Heiner found it deeply irritating, though he couldn't quite figure out why.
“However, if the bleeding does not stop or the condition is still bad, surgery to scrape out the waste inside may be necessary.”
Heiner tried to listen carefully to every word the doctor said, but he wasn't sure if he was doing it right. Hearing the possible aftereffects of a miscarriage, he struggled to open his mouth.
"Please ensure that the fact of the miscarriage does not leak out to the outside world."
“...My wife has always had insomnia, but it seems to have gotten worse recently. Could this be related to the pregnancy?”
"It varies from mother to mother, but you may experience various symptoms during early pregnancy. If you've previously suffered from insomnia, it may worsen."
Annette couldn't remember exactly when her insomnia began to worsen. She had been trying not to consciously consider it.
Heiner clenched his fist, then unclenched it and asked in a low voice.
“Is it okay to continue taking her existing medication?”
“If it’s a medicine she's been taking without any problems, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
"Could you please check for me? If there's a better medicine, please prescribe that."
"Yes, Your Excellency. If you need anything else, please let me know."
“Yes, thank you.”
Even as he responded calmly, Heiner's gaze was still fixed on Annette.
“Yes, then...”
The doctor glanced at the Commander-in-Chief's large back before leaving the room. Feeling a sense of inadequacy, he closed the door with a firm grip.
Bam.
“Phew.”
The doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead and adjusted his gown. The rumored young commander-in-chief had a more menacing air than he'd expected. He was surprisingly handsome, yet possessed a powerful presence.
Her wife was said to be one of the most beautiful women in Launceston, but the photo didn't seem to capture her beauty. The stories that followed were grim, though.
Leaving aside the newspaper stories and the inside story, if you just look at their appearance, they were a perfectly matched couple. Even the way he looked at his wife...
The doctor tilted his head, remembering the commander-in-chief's expression.
Didn't you say that those two were on bad terms?
***
“Heiner.”
Annette licked her lips as she stood in his bedroom, holding a lamp. The lamp's pale light illuminated Heiner's angular face.
“Are you busy today...? If not...”
The tip of her voice trembled slightly. He must have understood what Annette meant. Despite the countless visits and requests she'd made over the past three years, she hadn't grown accustomed to this strange sense of shame.
Heiner looked down at her silently. Annette bit her lower lip, pulling it slightly. Those ash-like eyes made her feel suffocated.
If you don't like me, just say so.
If you don't like it, just reject it.
Don't kiss me, don't hug me, just throw me away.
The words that were on the tip of her tongue were swallowed again.
Annette bowed her head and carefully grasped the hem of his shirt. She hoped he wouldn't say no. She hoped he wouldn't reject her. She hoped he wouldn't chase her away.
She wanted to reach him. Even though she knew in her head that their relationship was already broken, when he hugged her, everything felt okay.
Even though she knows that misery will remain like dregs after a relationship ends.
Heiner's gray eyes moved from bottom to top, then back again. His gaze fell on the cleavage revealed through the loosely folded gown.
Annette's hand, clutching the hem of her dress, trembled slightly. Heiner took one last look at her hand and quietly led her into the room.
The door closed silently. Annette was pushed into the room, her form slowly swallowed by darkness. Boom. The door closed.
Inside, a single, low-intensity incandescent light was on. Heiner strode over and turned it off. In an instant, the room darkened.
He sat down at the edge of the bed. Annette stepped in front of him and untied her robe. The smooth fabric slid down her shoulders.
Their bodies were close together. A large, warm hand wrapped around her bare waist. In the pitch-black darkness, she could clearly feel his body heat.
Heiner lifted her gently and laid her on the bed. There was a sound of him undressing. The clothes fell to the floor, brushing against her bare skin. Annette squeezed her eyes shut.
There was no conversation. That was all.
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