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While they were pondering, they arrived at the incinerator. Ryan tossed the bag carelessly onto the pile of waste.
Across the incinerator, another fire was rising, seemingly burning the corpses of enemy soldiers. Smoke rose into the darkening sky.
Annette, who had been staring at the smoke, opened her mouth.
“I don’t know what to say, but... I... have people I want to ask for forgiveness from.”
“Forgiveness? To whom?”
"I don't know. I don't even know who they are, or how many they are... That's why I came here. I think it's atoning... It's all I can do. I have nothing left to give."
Annette smiled bitterly and lowered her head.
“I guess staying on the front lines is, well, maybe it makes me feel a little less guilty.”
It was the first time she had expressed her feelings. Even she herself realized the real reason only after saying it out loud.
Maybe she needed someone to tell this to.
“Is this an atonement for your father?”
“...That’s not necessarily true.”
"Then, Annette, you've had enough. Everyone here thinks you're truly amazing."
“There’s no need to comfort me.”
“It’s not comforting, it’s real.”
Ryan grumbled, but Annette let it go in one ear and out the other. Suddenly, he stopped walking back to the barracks. Annette, stunned, also stopped.
“When the shelling was raining down here.”
He looked down at Annette with an even more serious expression and began to speak.
"When we were all face down on the ground... You ran to another broken barrack and brought me first aid kits and bandages. You bandaged James, who had been shot, and you kept telling him he'd be okay."
“...That person eventually died.”
“Many people lived thanks to the items you brought.”
Annette's face remained unchanged, with a puzzled expression on her face. Ryan's lips lifted into a smile. His once grim expression softened slightly.
"I'm someone who's only ever done what I'm told, so I'm ignorant of the world. I've only heard vaguely about you. So, I don't know exactly what you're like outside the battlefield."
“...”
"At least Annette here is a really nice person. It's not an exaggeration to say everyone thinks you're amazing."
Her eyes warmed slightly. Annette pursed her lips slightly. Her throat was tight, making it difficult to speak.
“So, you don’t need to push yourself too hard.”
It was really, really the first time in a long time... She heard those words.
“...Thank you. For saying that.”
She barely managed a whisper. The sun had completely sunk below the horizon. The ground was plunged into darkness.
Nurses gathered in a tent, making nursing supplies like splints and triangular drapes. They chatted to pass the time.
Annette sat in the far corner, her hands moving silently, like oil floating on the sea, unmixed.
“Haley’s fiancé got a return ticket, right?”
“Yes. I have to go back soon, too.”
“So are you getting married as soon as you get back?”
"Maybe..."
"That's what the nurses do," Haley answered shyly. She burst out laughing, saying it was a good time.
"You should definitely get a proper proposal before getting married. I got married in a hurry, and I always regret it."
“Still, the ring is so pretty. I bet your husband put a lot of thought into choosing it.”
“Well... that’s what they said.”
She answered with a feigned indifference, but couldn't hide her proud expression.
Annette, who had been quietly listening to their story, suddenly looked at her left ring finger. The area where the ring had been worn for so long was particularly smooth and pale.
During their conversation, a nurse entered the tent. She distributed additional crafting materials to each person.
“Here, take this.”
“Oh my, no matter how much I try, there’s no end to it.”
"There's still a mountain of work left over there. We have to get it done while I have some time. What can we do?"
The nurse turned her head, still clutching a bundle of supplies, and replied. The moment she reached Annette's seat, several items fell from her arms.
Annette quickly raised her hand to grab them. At the same time, she felt her left arm being caught somewhere, and heard the sound of cloth ripping.
Annette's arms suddenly froze in midair. The items she hadn't caught fell onto the table and the floor.
Annette awkwardly raised her arm and examined the torn area. The sleeve on her left arm was ripped from end to end, tattered and frayed. It seemed to have caught on a protruding part of the table's wood where it had split.
It was a very brief moment, but the air around her became ethereal. She turned her head in confusion, but belatedly realized the scar on her wrist.
Annette quickly lowered her arm. But the nurses' faces were already stiff. Only a few, unable to see her wrist, looked at her curiously.
In the awkward silence, someone spoke awkwardly.
“Your clothes... they’re torn. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Yeah. Was there a sharp part...?”
“What should I do? Should I sew it up for you?”
“Yeah, you're really good at sewing.”
They spoke as if nothing had happened. But Annette found it difficult to respond naturally.
“No, it’s okay.”
The nurses trailed off with a "Oh, yes..." at her abrupt reply. Annette picked up the fallen items and placed them on the table, then bowed her head and continued her work.
But the air remained tense. After a moment of observing each other, they deliberately brought up a different topic.
“Oh, have you heard that the President of Balihen has dissolved all the other political parties?”
“That’s right. I heard that although he’s quite capable, he’s also incredibly stubborn..."
“It’s not that he’s very capable, he’s just incredibly good at talking.”
Annette lowered her head and quietly concentrated on her work. Unlike before, she couldn't hear the nurses' conversation clearly.
In fact, there was no need to hide it. Her suicide attempt had already been reported in newspapers and magazines.
But she felt a strangely strong sense of rejection and awkwardness.
Even if everyone outside knew who she was, she didn't want to be found out here.
Even if that meant closing her eyes, covering her ears, and doing nothing, she just wanted to be an ordinary person here.
'Is it because this place... feels disconnected from the real world?'
The front line was the place most in touch with the reality of life and death. Paradoxically, it was also the place most unrealistic.
Suddenly, the strength in her left hand gave out. Just before she let go of the cloth, she managed to grab it again. Annette took a slow breath and continued to move her hand.
It was early morning, the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon. Troop changes were in full swing, and the area was bustling with vehicles and people moving about.
Ryan, who had been on standby, also said he would soon be transferred to the rear. He persistently urged Annette to move with him, but she ultimately refused.
Annette, who was moving her supplies, suddenly looked into the empty air. The air was so white and cold that she could almost feel a shard of ice if she reached out.
Even though it was past the height of winter, the weather still didn't warm up. It was truly a brutal winter. This was especially true when you consider the number of frostbite victims during the war.
A chill enveloped her shoulders. Annette hurried along, her upper body slightly hunched. As she was about to enter the treatment room, someone suddenly called out to her.
“Miss Rosenberg!”
Annette's body jerked unnaturally. A chill ran down her spine for a moment.
Annette froze in place, her eyes slightly rolling. "Miss Rosenberg." The title sounded incredibly strange and bizarre.
Here, people were usually addressed by their title or first name. Adding a title after a surname was something only practiced in the outside world.
Moreover, the surname "Rosenberg" was a stigma to her. She had never been called by that name here.
“Miss Rosenberg, is that right?”
Annette slowly turned around. A man wearing round glasses and carrying a notebook and pen approached her with a welcoming expression.
In every way, he was a true reporter.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Rosenberg. My name is Zeke Arnault, editor-in-chief of Free Jeans.”
“...”
"I heard that Miss Rosenberg was serving as a war nurse at the front, so I came to see you and talk. Do you have a moment?"
The man raised his lips and smiled smoothly.
Across the incinerator, another fire was rising, seemingly burning the corpses of enemy soldiers. Smoke rose into the darkening sky.
Annette, who had been staring at the smoke, opened her mouth.
“I don’t know what to say, but... I... have people I want to ask for forgiveness from.”
“Forgiveness? To whom?”
"I don't know. I don't even know who they are, or how many they are... That's why I came here. I think it's atoning... It's all I can do. I have nothing left to give."
Annette smiled bitterly and lowered her head.
“I guess staying on the front lines is, well, maybe it makes me feel a little less guilty.”
It was the first time she had expressed her feelings. Even she herself realized the real reason only after saying it out loud.
Maybe she needed someone to tell this to.
“Is this an atonement for your father?”
“...That’s not necessarily true.”
"Then, Annette, you've had enough. Everyone here thinks you're truly amazing."
“There’s no need to comfort me.”
“It’s not comforting, it’s real.”
Ryan grumbled, but Annette let it go in one ear and out the other. Suddenly, he stopped walking back to the barracks. Annette, stunned, also stopped.
“When the shelling was raining down here.”
He looked down at Annette with an even more serious expression and began to speak.
"When we were all face down on the ground... You ran to another broken barrack and brought me first aid kits and bandages. You bandaged James, who had been shot, and you kept telling him he'd be okay."
“...That person eventually died.”
“Many people lived thanks to the items you brought.”
Annette's face remained unchanged, with a puzzled expression on her face. Ryan's lips lifted into a smile. His once grim expression softened slightly.
"I'm someone who's only ever done what I'm told, so I'm ignorant of the world. I've only heard vaguely about you. So, I don't know exactly what you're like outside the battlefield."
“...”
"At least Annette here is a really nice person. It's not an exaggeration to say everyone thinks you're amazing."
Her eyes warmed slightly. Annette pursed her lips slightly. Her throat was tight, making it difficult to speak.
“So, you don’t need to push yourself too hard.”
It was really, really the first time in a long time... She heard those words.
“...Thank you. For saying that.”
She barely managed a whisper. The sun had completely sunk below the horizon. The ground was plunged into darkness.
***
Nurses gathered in a tent, making nursing supplies like splints and triangular drapes. They chatted to pass the time.
Annette sat in the far corner, her hands moving silently, like oil floating on the sea, unmixed.
“Haley’s fiancé got a return ticket, right?”
“Yes. I have to go back soon, too.”
“So are you getting married as soon as you get back?”
"Maybe..."
"That's what the nurses do," Haley answered shyly. She burst out laughing, saying it was a good time.
"You should definitely get a proper proposal before getting married. I got married in a hurry, and I always regret it."
“Still, the ring is so pretty. I bet your husband put a lot of thought into choosing it.”
“Well... that’s what they said.”
She answered with a feigned indifference, but couldn't hide her proud expression.
Annette, who had been quietly listening to their story, suddenly looked at her left ring finger. The area where the ring had been worn for so long was particularly smooth and pale.
During their conversation, a nurse entered the tent. She distributed additional crafting materials to each person.
“Here, take this.”
“Oh my, no matter how much I try, there’s no end to it.”
"There's still a mountain of work left over there. We have to get it done while I have some time. What can we do?"
The nurse turned her head, still clutching a bundle of supplies, and replied. The moment she reached Annette's seat, several items fell from her arms.
Annette quickly raised her hand to grab them. At the same time, she felt her left arm being caught somewhere, and heard the sound of cloth ripping.
Annette's arms suddenly froze in midair. The items she hadn't caught fell onto the table and the floor.
Annette awkwardly raised her arm and examined the torn area. The sleeve on her left arm was ripped from end to end, tattered and frayed. It seemed to have caught on a protruding part of the table's wood where it had split.
It was a very brief moment, but the air around her became ethereal. She turned her head in confusion, but belatedly realized the scar on her wrist.
Annette quickly lowered her arm. But the nurses' faces were already stiff. Only a few, unable to see her wrist, looked at her curiously.
In the awkward silence, someone spoke awkwardly.
“Your clothes... they’re torn. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Yeah. Was there a sharp part...?”
“What should I do? Should I sew it up for you?”
“Yeah, you're really good at sewing.”
They spoke as if nothing had happened. But Annette found it difficult to respond naturally.
“No, it’s okay.”
The nurses trailed off with a "Oh, yes..." at her abrupt reply. Annette picked up the fallen items and placed them on the table, then bowed her head and continued her work.
But the air remained tense. After a moment of observing each other, they deliberately brought up a different topic.
“Oh, have you heard that the President of Balihen has dissolved all the other political parties?”
“That’s right. I heard that although he’s quite capable, he’s also incredibly stubborn..."
“It’s not that he’s very capable, he’s just incredibly good at talking.”
Annette lowered her head and quietly concentrated on her work. Unlike before, she couldn't hear the nurses' conversation clearly.
In fact, there was no need to hide it. Her suicide attempt had already been reported in newspapers and magazines.
But she felt a strangely strong sense of rejection and awkwardness.
Even if everyone outside knew who she was, she didn't want to be found out here.
Even if that meant closing her eyes, covering her ears, and doing nothing, she just wanted to be an ordinary person here.
'Is it because this place... feels disconnected from the real world?'
The front line was the place most in touch with the reality of life and death. Paradoxically, it was also the place most unrealistic.
Suddenly, the strength in her left hand gave out. Just before she let go of the cloth, she managed to grab it again. Annette took a slow breath and continued to move her hand.
***
It was early morning, the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon. Troop changes were in full swing, and the area was bustling with vehicles and people moving about.
Ryan, who had been on standby, also said he would soon be transferred to the rear. He persistently urged Annette to move with him, but she ultimately refused.
Annette, who was moving her supplies, suddenly looked into the empty air. The air was so white and cold that she could almost feel a shard of ice if she reached out.
Even though it was past the height of winter, the weather still didn't warm up. It was truly a brutal winter. This was especially true when you consider the number of frostbite victims during the war.
A chill enveloped her shoulders. Annette hurried along, her upper body slightly hunched. As she was about to enter the treatment room, someone suddenly called out to her.
“Miss Rosenberg!”
Annette's body jerked unnaturally. A chill ran down her spine for a moment.
Annette froze in place, her eyes slightly rolling. "Miss Rosenberg." The title sounded incredibly strange and bizarre.
Here, people were usually addressed by their title or first name. Adding a title after a surname was something only practiced in the outside world.
Moreover, the surname "Rosenberg" was a stigma to her. She had never been called by that name here.
“Miss Rosenberg, is that right?”
Annette slowly turned around. A man wearing round glasses and carrying a notebook and pen approached her with a welcoming expression.
In every way, he was a true reporter.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Rosenberg. My name is Zeke Arnault, editor-in-chief of Free Jeans.”
“...”
"I heard that Miss Rosenberg was serving as a war nurse at the front, so I came to see you and talk. Do you have a moment?"
The man raised his lips and smiled smoothly.
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