.png)
Setting aside the context, Annette was, at least in this case, the victim. Annette had the right to forgive him.
But Heiner still looked puzzled. He spoke as if he was indignant.
“Are you going to become a saint?”
Annette gave a soft laugh at that.
“I can’t do that, you know that.”
It was a ridiculous thing to say. If you were to choose the woman most unsuitable for becoming a saint in Padania, it would undoubtedly be herself.
"Katrine didn't ask me for a pardon. I just made my own decision. And..."
Annette stopped talking at the sudden gaze. Their eyes met, a hint of a smile still on her face.
The air grew still. Heiner continued to stare at her without averting his eyes. After a moment of silence, he muttered with a subdued expression.
“...I think it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like that.”
In an instant, the smile vanished from Annette's face. She raised her hand, half-consciously, to cover her mouth. Their eyes met again.
Annette slowly lowered her hand. A quiet voice flowed out.
"I'm sorry."
“....”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Annette tried to smile at him again, but for some reason it didn't work.
“It’s just everything...”
“...”
“I’m sorry, Heiner. Even the things I don’t know.”
Annette spoke with utmost honesty, yet remained completely unmoved by her own feelings or the words she spoke.
She spoke matter-of-factly, as if she were simply stating the facts. She seemed to have exhausted even the slightest emotion.
It was Heiner who was the one who was agitated. His jaw clenched. Heiner gritted his molars, then chuckled.
“Do you even know what you have to apologize for?”
Annette didn't answer because she didn't know exactly what to say.
Heiner knew he hated her, but he didn't know whether it was simply because she was the Marquis' daughter or because he had some other personal grudge.
Looking at Annette, who couldn't answer, Heiner smiled half mockingly and half bitterly.
“Just don’t apologize to me for the rest of your life.”
His voice was slightly broken.
“Because it’s better that way.”
Annette's lips twitched slightly. Her words were difficult to come out, as if she'd swallowed something wrong. After several attempts, she managed to whisper.
“...I will do that.”
Annette pondered as she soaked in the bathtub. The reason he didn't want a divorce was that he was still obsessed with revenge.
When people devote their lives to a single goal, they often lose their way. They mistakenly believe that the goal is "what they truly want."
Those people usually only realize after they've come a long way that this isn't what they truly wanted.
Annette believed Heiner was in that state. He still couldn't escape his past. As long as she was around, Heiner would make himself miserable for the rest of his life.
Steam rose from the bathtub. Annette put her hand in the water. A warmth, a little too much, seeped into her fingertips.
No, it didn't really matter if that wasn't the case.
It didn't matter if it was what he truly wanted: to continue living a deformed life, entangled in misery together.
She was exhausted and broken. Heiner's wish had already been granted, only for a shorter period.
Annette poured rosewater into the hot water. She had poured so much that the rose scent was almost overwhelming, but she didn't care.
Annette entered the bathtub, still clothed. As her body sank, the water level rose. Her tense muscles gently relaxed, and her vision became blurry.
She tilted her head back and slowly closed her eyes. Dark, old afterimages swirled in her mind.
“Don’t think about anything, Annette. Just go with the flow.”
How could that be?
“You’re good at it.”
How can I not think about anything?
Even if she tries to turn her back on all the noise, she can't. Even if she closes her eyes, covers her ears, and tries to convince herself of her innocence, she can't.
She thinks about the weight of life. She thinks about the presence or absence of sin. She thinks about the past, the future, responsibility, and the price.
After much thought and reflection, the conclusion she reached was clear.
If you were born wrong and raised wrongly, if continuing to live is hurting someone, isn't it right to throw it away?
Annette grabbed the knife she'd left beside the bathtub. The short blade shone dimly in the steam. It was the knife Heiner had given her for self-defense when she met Katrine.
She had thought about dying countless times. She had considered the following scenarios: falling from a great height, plunging headfirst into water, taking pills, shooting herself in the head with a pistol, or slitting her wrists.
In the first case, there were no buildings nearby tall enough to cause a fatal fall. A little further on, there was a bell tower, but access was blocked by a railing.
The second time, she felt like she couldn't stand it anymore and was about to give up, and the third time, she had already had the medicine she had saved taken away.
And fourth, it was difficult to implement because firearms were restricted in civilian life. Even suddenly obtaining a gun would seem suspicious.
So the last one she chose was the one she chose.
Annette didn't know exactly where or how deep she had to cut to die. She'd never heard of anything like it in her life.
So she just decided to stick it in as deep as she could.
Of course, she was scared. She was terrified. Because of the previous shooting, Annette knew how painful it was to see blood.
But she didn't hesitate.
The pungent scent of roses assaulted her nostrils. Her head ached, but she felt refreshed. She tightened her grip on the knife.
Her breathing calmed. It felt like a period had been put on the long agony, conflict, and pain. Annette smiled lightly.
Congratulations, Heiner.
Your revenge was successful.
A single incandescent light remained in the dimly lit room. Heiner took out a cigar and lit it. The unlit surface of the cigar glowed a dim white.
It was already well past work hours, but he didn't feel like getting up. If he ran into Annette at the residence, he couldn't decide how to act or react.
Anyway, she was a woman who never came out of her room.
A cold breeze blew through the open window. Heiner stared blankly at the letter of apology Annette had left behind. Slowly, the blurry writing came into focus, becoming clearer.
The contents of the apology were exactly as they should have been. Nothing particularly different. However, the handwriting was sloppy, as if it had been written with the left hand.
Heiner, frowning as he read, reached out and opened the bottom drawer. It was filled with a bundle of letters and other small items.
He untied the bundle of letters, took out an envelope, and opened it. A handwriting, stuffed in some time, caught his eye.
It was a stark contrast to the messy handwriting on the eulogy. At first, Heiner simply compared the handwriting, but soon he began reading the letter.
"To Heiner, who says everything is true
Do you think I'd be happy if you just sent me a gift without a single letter after breaking up like that? Shouldn't you have included at least a short note with your gift?
The necklace is pretty. You have a keen eye for jewelry as well as women. However, you need to study women's minds a little more.
You might think I'm a boring woman if I say this, but I read newspapers and magazines very carefully about fortune telling and how to have a healthy relationship...'
Heiner chuckled involuntarily. He'd never once considered her a worthless woman. If he had, he would have executed her long ago during the revolution.
Even though he thought it was such a useless story, his eyes steadily scanned the letters.
"You know, when I'm walking down the street, and I see clothes on display, I think about our next meeting. I think, 'It would be great to wear this on a date.' Have you ever felt that way?
(...syncopation...)
I was having tea with Coco at a cafe the other day, but I was so tired after I argued with you that I couldn't really hear what she was saying. Then, out of the blue, Coco started talking about some types of relationships between men and women. Only then did I start paying attention. I was wondering what type we were..."
Heiner himself was like that. Back in the military, the idiots whose greatest feat was how many women they'd slapped down would often quibble about the relationships between men and women.
Heiner unconsciously listened to them, dismissing them as unpleasant nonsense. And at the same time, he always thought of Annette.
He knew she was completely out of place with such vulgar talk, but he still couldn't stop thinking about her.
“The reason I am telling you such a humiliating story in detail is...
I'm sorry to some extent, Heiner.
And that means I like you that much.
Early summer of AU 714
Your lover, Annette Rosenberg."
But Heiner still looked puzzled. He spoke as if he was indignant.
“Are you going to become a saint?”
Annette gave a soft laugh at that.
“I can’t do that, you know that.”
It was a ridiculous thing to say. If you were to choose the woman most unsuitable for becoming a saint in Padania, it would undoubtedly be herself.
"Katrine didn't ask me for a pardon. I just made my own decision. And..."
Annette stopped talking at the sudden gaze. Their eyes met, a hint of a smile still on her face.
The air grew still. Heiner continued to stare at her without averting his eyes. After a moment of silence, he muttered with a subdued expression.
“...I think it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like that.”
In an instant, the smile vanished from Annette's face. She raised her hand, half-consciously, to cover her mouth. Their eyes met again.
Annette slowly lowered her hand. A quiet voice flowed out.
"I'm sorry."
“....”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Annette tried to smile at him again, but for some reason it didn't work.
“It’s just everything...”
“...”
“I’m sorry, Heiner. Even the things I don’t know.”
Annette spoke with utmost honesty, yet remained completely unmoved by her own feelings or the words she spoke.
She spoke matter-of-factly, as if she were simply stating the facts. She seemed to have exhausted even the slightest emotion.
It was Heiner who was the one who was agitated. His jaw clenched. Heiner gritted his molars, then chuckled.
“Do you even know what you have to apologize for?”
Annette didn't answer because she didn't know exactly what to say.
Heiner knew he hated her, but he didn't know whether it was simply because she was the Marquis' daughter or because he had some other personal grudge.
Looking at Annette, who couldn't answer, Heiner smiled half mockingly and half bitterly.
“Just don’t apologize to me for the rest of your life.”
His voice was slightly broken.
“Because it’s better that way.”
Annette's lips twitched slightly. Her words were difficult to come out, as if she'd swallowed something wrong. After several attempts, she managed to whisper.
“...I will do that.”
***
Annette pondered as she soaked in the bathtub. The reason he didn't want a divorce was that he was still obsessed with revenge.
When people devote their lives to a single goal, they often lose their way. They mistakenly believe that the goal is "what they truly want."
Those people usually only realize after they've come a long way that this isn't what they truly wanted.
Annette believed Heiner was in that state. He still couldn't escape his past. As long as she was around, Heiner would make himself miserable for the rest of his life.
Steam rose from the bathtub. Annette put her hand in the water. A warmth, a little too much, seeped into her fingertips.
No, it didn't really matter if that wasn't the case.
It didn't matter if it was what he truly wanted: to continue living a deformed life, entangled in misery together.
She was exhausted and broken. Heiner's wish had already been granted, only for a shorter period.
Annette poured rosewater into the hot water. She had poured so much that the rose scent was almost overwhelming, but she didn't care.
Annette entered the bathtub, still clothed. As her body sank, the water level rose. Her tense muscles gently relaxed, and her vision became blurry.
She tilted her head back and slowly closed her eyes. Dark, old afterimages swirled in her mind.
“Don’t think about anything, Annette. Just go with the flow.”
How could that be?
“You’re good at it.”
How can I not think about anything?
Even if she tries to turn her back on all the noise, she can't. Even if she closes her eyes, covers her ears, and tries to convince herself of her innocence, she can't.
She thinks about the weight of life. She thinks about the presence or absence of sin. She thinks about the past, the future, responsibility, and the price.
After much thought and reflection, the conclusion she reached was clear.
If you were born wrong and raised wrongly, if continuing to live is hurting someone, isn't it right to throw it away?
Annette grabbed the knife she'd left beside the bathtub. The short blade shone dimly in the steam. It was the knife Heiner had given her for self-defense when she met Katrine.
She had thought about dying countless times. She had considered the following scenarios: falling from a great height, plunging headfirst into water, taking pills, shooting herself in the head with a pistol, or slitting her wrists.
In the first case, there were no buildings nearby tall enough to cause a fatal fall. A little further on, there was a bell tower, but access was blocked by a railing.
The second time, she felt like she couldn't stand it anymore and was about to give up, and the third time, she had already had the medicine she had saved taken away.
And fourth, it was difficult to implement because firearms were restricted in civilian life. Even suddenly obtaining a gun would seem suspicious.
So the last one she chose was the one she chose.
Annette didn't know exactly where or how deep she had to cut to die. She'd never heard of anything like it in her life.
So she just decided to stick it in as deep as she could.
Of course, she was scared. She was terrified. Because of the previous shooting, Annette knew how painful it was to see blood.
But she didn't hesitate.
The pungent scent of roses assaulted her nostrils. Her head ached, but she felt refreshed. She tightened her grip on the knife.
Her breathing calmed. It felt like a period had been put on the long agony, conflict, and pain. Annette smiled lightly.
Congratulations, Heiner.
Your revenge was successful.
***
A single incandescent light remained in the dimly lit room. Heiner took out a cigar and lit it. The unlit surface of the cigar glowed a dim white.
It was already well past work hours, but he didn't feel like getting up. If he ran into Annette at the residence, he couldn't decide how to act or react.
Anyway, she was a woman who never came out of her room.
A cold breeze blew through the open window. Heiner stared blankly at the letter of apology Annette had left behind. Slowly, the blurry writing came into focus, becoming clearer.
The contents of the apology were exactly as they should have been. Nothing particularly different. However, the handwriting was sloppy, as if it had been written with the left hand.
Heiner, frowning as he read, reached out and opened the bottom drawer. It was filled with a bundle of letters and other small items.
He untied the bundle of letters, took out an envelope, and opened it. A handwriting, stuffed in some time, caught his eye.
It was a stark contrast to the messy handwriting on the eulogy. At first, Heiner simply compared the handwriting, but soon he began reading the letter.
"To Heiner, who says everything is true
Do you think I'd be happy if you just sent me a gift without a single letter after breaking up like that? Shouldn't you have included at least a short note with your gift?
The necklace is pretty. You have a keen eye for jewelry as well as women. However, you need to study women's minds a little more.
You might think I'm a boring woman if I say this, but I read newspapers and magazines very carefully about fortune telling and how to have a healthy relationship...'
Heiner chuckled involuntarily. He'd never once considered her a worthless woman. If he had, he would have executed her long ago during the revolution.
Even though he thought it was such a useless story, his eyes steadily scanned the letters.
"You know, when I'm walking down the street, and I see clothes on display, I think about our next meeting. I think, 'It would be great to wear this on a date.' Have you ever felt that way?
(...syncopation...)
I was having tea with Coco at a cafe the other day, but I was so tired after I argued with you that I couldn't really hear what she was saying. Then, out of the blue, Coco started talking about some types of relationships between men and women. Only then did I start paying attention. I was wondering what type we were..."
Heiner himself was like that. Back in the military, the idiots whose greatest feat was how many women they'd slapped down would often quibble about the relationships between men and women.
Heiner unconsciously listened to them, dismissing them as unpleasant nonsense. And at the same time, he always thought of Annette.
He knew she was completely out of place with such vulgar talk, but he still couldn't stop thinking about her.
“The reason I am telling you such a humiliating story in detail is...
I'm sorry to some extent, Heiner.
And that means I like you that much.
Early summer of AU 714
Your lover, Annette Rosenberg."
Comments
Post a Comment