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Her whole body felt numb, as if it were buried in a boulder. She tried to turn her head, but she felt trapped and unable to move.
Annette, trying to roll over, let out a faint groan. A dull, dull pain, rather than a sharp one, was pressing down on her entire body.
A white ceiling finally came into view. Annette simply rolled her eyes, examining her surroundings. Only after a while did her thoughts begin to slowly shift.
'It's a hospital.'
Her last memory was of being in the rubble of a collapsed building.
She would wake up in it, then fall into a deep sleep, repeatedly losing consciousness. It was unclear whether she was asleep or passed out.
Actually, she thinks she came to her senses a few times here, but her memories of those times were as vague as fog.
'Is the structure... done?'
She thought it would be impossible. The area where the church was located was already occupied by enemy forces, making it difficult to expect a rescue team.
But she was rescued. She survived.
There was no other way to describe it than as a miracle.
She was truly grateful to have survived. She was grateful to have kept her promise to him. She was grateful to have been given another chance.
A chance to ask him again what I couldn't ask him...
Just then, the door opened. A woman entered the hospital room carrying a tray. It was an unfamiliar face. Upon seeing Annette awake, the woman's eyes widened, and she immediately pressed the pager.
“Are you awake? Are you okay?”
Annette tried to answer, but realized her voice wasn't coming out well, so she just nodded.
“The doctor will be here soon. Would you like some water?”
When Annette nodded again, the woman poured water into her mouth.
Soon after, a doctor and a nurse entered the room. The doctor asked her various questions and checked her condition.
Only then did Annette realize that she had been unconscious and exhausted for four days.
The doctor said he administered nutritional supplements and other treatments during her periods of consciousness. But those moments were vague, like a hazy dream.
Suddenly, the hospital room door opened again. Annette's gaze turned to the doorway. A large man, almost filling the entire entrance, stood there, panting.
It was Heiner.
Their eyes met in midair. He was dressed in a relatively light white shirt, but his face was completely disheveled.
“Then is there anything particularly uncomfortable?”
“...I don’t think... Is there any?”
The voice was so cracked that it was horrible even for her to hear.
She tried to clear her throat, but she didn't have the strength left. Annette closed her eyes and opened them again. He was still standing in the same spot, like a statue.
Without approaching her or speaking to her, he just stood there.
Their gazes continued to meet. Annette ignored the doctor's words, staring at him again and again. For some reason, her heart ached.
“...and... In the case of your left hand, it will get better with rehabilitation treatment, but you won’t be able to use it like before.”
"... Yes?"
Annette, who hadn't been able to hear the doctor's words because she was too busy watching Heiner, asked again. The doctor spoke again in a cautious tone.
“Your left hand had been buried in the rubble for a long time...”
The next words sounded distant. Annette stared blankly at the doctor's face, then slowly lowered her gaze. Her left hand, still in a splint, was wrapped tightly in bandages.
“...With diligent rehabilitation, you may be able to recover to some degree. However, because treatment was delayed so much, it will be difficult to fully return to normal.”
Afterwards, the doctor gave her some instructions. Annette remained silent, staring at her left hand with wavering eyes.
Actually, she kind of expected it.
From the moment she realized her left hand was trapped in the rubble, she knew something was wrong. As time passed, her hopes faded.
She had definitely expected it, but even though she had expected it, the doctor's diagnosis felt completely different when she listened to it with her mind clear.
Her breathing became increasingly labored. Even with all her might, she couldn't calm down. She gritted her teeth.
The doctor offered a few brief words of comfort and left. Only after the nurse who had checked the IV drip left the room were the two of them left alone.
Silence fell in the room.
Annette slowly raised her head. Their eyes met again. Heiner was still standing by the door. Just silently.
She had a lot to ask him, but it all just evaporated from her mind.
Annette's breathing was still rapid. After a long moment of just moving her lips, she finally managed to utter a single word.
"Sorry."
It was not her usual thin and clear voice, but a completely broken and muffled voice.
She didn't know exactly what she was sorry about.
By going against his will and joining the rescue mission, by putting myself in danger, by worrying you, by listening to your past stories, and by finding out all this too late...
She had so much to say, but she couldn't find the words. The whole situation was overwhelming.
“...What do you have to be sorry about to me?”
Heiner replied with a faint smile.
“It’s okay because you’re alive.”
That smile looked broken and distorted somewhere.
Annette expected Heiner to say something more. He'd been just as angry when he'd served as a nurse on the front lines.
But contrary to expectations, he said nothing more.
With that dry statement, Heiner closed his mouth. His gaze, which had been tracing her face, finally dissolved. He slowly turned away.
Annette tried to call Heiner, but he had already turned away. His massive back gave him the appearance of a defeated soldier.
Click, the door closed.
Annette stared at the closed door for a long time.
Annette slowly recovered in the hospital. With the central front now completely in Padania's hands, the Potsman Emergency Hospital was relatively safe and relaxed.
Many people came to visit Annette in the hospital. Fellow nurses from the front lines who had been transferred to Portsman Hospital, soldiers she knew, prisoners she had saved...
"Reporters came to interview me. Don't worry, I answered based on what I saw and felt. Annette was a wonderful war nurse."
She thought it was a fleeting relationship.
"Do you remember me? I saw you on the Western Front... Why do you look so sick? Get well soon."
She thought they were people she would never see again.
“Thank you so much for saving me. You must have been scared too... I wonder what would have happened if it weren’t for you...”
But everything came back to her like a bundle of letters that had piled up and become thicker.
The first child Annette saved from the burning church also came to see her. Since being rescued, the child has been staying at a shelter near the hospital.
The child, seeing Annette, shied away, as if he were shy. But when she smiled and extended her hand, he quickly let his guard down and approached her.
Because of an injury to her left hand, Annette could only hold her child with one hand. The child still couldn't speak.
Annette asked the child, holding out a notepad and pen that were on the nightstand.
“Come to think of it, I still don’t know your name. Could you write it here? Oh, and you can’t write?”
The child nodded vigorously, his face somehow filled with pride, and he picked up the pen. Crooked, clumsy handwriting emerged from his small hands.
Annette smiled after reading it.
“...What a pretty name.”
Joseph
It was the name of the precious life she had saved.
Katrine's letter arrived late at the Portsmouth Hospital. The urgent wartime situation had significantly delayed delivery.
The date on the letter was before the bombing of Sinsier. Annette tried calling the Grotts, but couldn't get through.
‘...Should I go and see them in person after I’m discharged from the military?’
Annette was planning to be discharged soon. She'd wanted to quit, but it was hard to do her job properly with those hands anyway.
This hand.
Annette looked at her left hand with sunken eyes.
No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, to not think about it, I couldn't. Even though I'd known for a long time that I'd never be able to play the piano again...
When it actually became a reality, bearing the name of 'lifetime', Annette began to feel despair whenever she was alone.
It was a regret that remained and could not die in the end.
About what was once most precious to her.
As the bruises on her face and body began to fade, Annette removed the bandage on her left hand. The numbness in her hand was infinitely unfamiliar and painful.
Time continued to pass.
During all this time, Annette never saw Heiner once.
Heiner never came to see her or contacted her. The last time Annette saw him was the day she first regained consciousness in the hospital room.
Annette wanted to meet him and talk. There was so much to ask and hear. But it was wartime, and she knew he would be very busy, so she just waited.
Time continued to pass.
Around that time, news of the shooting of the Commander-in-Chief in Huntingham was belatedly reported in the newspapers.
Annette, trying to roll over, let out a faint groan. A dull, dull pain, rather than a sharp one, was pressing down on her entire body.
A white ceiling finally came into view. Annette simply rolled her eyes, examining her surroundings. Only after a while did her thoughts begin to slowly shift.
'It's a hospital.'
Her last memory was of being in the rubble of a collapsed building.
She would wake up in it, then fall into a deep sleep, repeatedly losing consciousness. It was unclear whether she was asleep or passed out.
Actually, she thinks she came to her senses a few times here, but her memories of those times were as vague as fog.
'Is the structure... done?'
She thought it would be impossible. The area where the church was located was already occupied by enemy forces, making it difficult to expect a rescue team.
But she was rescued. She survived.
There was no other way to describe it than as a miracle.
She was truly grateful to have survived. She was grateful to have kept her promise to him. She was grateful to have been given another chance.
A chance to ask him again what I couldn't ask him...
Just then, the door opened. A woman entered the hospital room carrying a tray. It was an unfamiliar face. Upon seeing Annette awake, the woman's eyes widened, and she immediately pressed the pager.
“Are you awake? Are you okay?”
Annette tried to answer, but realized her voice wasn't coming out well, so she just nodded.
“The doctor will be here soon. Would you like some water?”
When Annette nodded again, the woman poured water into her mouth.
Soon after, a doctor and a nurse entered the room. The doctor asked her various questions and checked her condition.
Only then did Annette realize that she had been unconscious and exhausted for four days.
The doctor said he administered nutritional supplements and other treatments during her periods of consciousness. But those moments were vague, like a hazy dream.
Suddenly, the hospital room door opened again. Annette's gaze turned to the doorway. A large man, almost filling the entire entrance, stood there, panting.
It was Heiner.
Their eyes met in midair. He was dressed in a relatively light white shirt, but his face was completely disheveled.
“Then is there anything particularly uncomfortable?”
“...I don’t think... Is there any?”
The voice was so cracked that it was horrible even for her to hear.
She tried to clear her throat, but she didn't have the strength left. Annette closed her eyes and opened them again. He was still standing in the same spot, like a statue.
Without approaching her or speaking to her, he just stood there.
Their gazes continued to meet. Annette ignored the doctor's words, staring at him again and again. For some reason, her heart ached.
“...and... In the case of your left hand, it will get better with rehabilitation treatment, but you won’t be able to use it like before.”
"... Yes?"
Annette, who hadn't been able to hear the doctor's words because she was too busy watching Heiner, asked again. The doctor spoke again in a cautious tone.
“Your left hand had been buried in the rubble for a long time...”
The next words sounded distant. Annette stared blankly at the doctor's face, then slowly lowered her gaze. Her left hand, still in a splint, was wrapped tightly in bandages.
“...With diligent rehabilitation, you may be able to recover to some degree. However, because treatment was delayed so much, it will be difficult to fully return to normal.”
Afterwards, the doctor gave her some instructions. Annette remained silent, staring at her left hand with wavering eyes.
Actually, she kind of expected it.
From the moment she realized her left hand was trapped in the rubble, she knew something was wrong. As time passed, her hopes faded.
She had definitely expected it, but even though she had expected it, the doctor's diagnosis felt completely different when she listened to it with her mind clear.
Her breathing became increasingly labored. Even with all her might, she couldn't calm down. She gritted her teeth.
The doctor offered a few brief words of comfort and left. Only after the nurse who had checked the IV drip left the room were the two of them left alone.
Silence fell in the room.
Annette slowly raised her head. Their eyes met again. Heiner was still standing by the door. Just silently.
She had a lot to ask him, but it all just evaporated from her mind.
Annette's breathing was still rapid. After a long moment of just moving her lips, she finally managed to utter a single word.
"Sorry."
It was not her usual thin and clear voice, but a completely broken and muffled voice.
She didn't know exactly what she was sorry about.
By going against his will and joining the rescue mission, by putting myself in danger, by worrying you, by listening to your past stories, and by finding out all this too late...
She had so much to say, but she couldn't find the words. The whole situation was overwhelming.
“...What do you have to be sorry about to me?”
Heiner replied with a faint smile.
“It’s okay because you’re alive.”
That smile looked broken and distorted somewhere.
Annette expected Heiner to say something more. He'd been just as angry when he'd served as a nurse on the front lines.
But contrary to expectations, he said nothing more.
With that dry statement, Heiner closed his mouth. His gaze, which had been tracing her face, finally dissolved. He slowly turned away.
Annette tried to call Heiner, but he had already turned away. His massive back gave him the appearance of a defeated soldier.
Click, the door closed.
Annette stared at the closed door for a long time.
***
Annette slowly recovered in the hospital. With the central front now completely in Padania's hands, the Potsman Emergency Hospital was relatively safe and relaxed.
Many people came to visit Annette in the hospital. Fellow nurses from the front lines who had been transferred to Portsman Hospital, soldiers she knew, prisoners she had saved...
"Reporters came to interview me. Don't worry, I answered based on what I saw and felt. Annette was a wonderful war nurse."
She thought it was a fleeting relationship.
"Do you remember me? I saw you on the Western Front... Why do you look so sick? Get well soon."
She thought they were people she would never see again.
“Thank you so much for saving me. You must have been scared too... I wonder what would have happened if it weren’t for you...”
But everything came back to her like a bundle of letters that had piled up and become thicker.
The first child Annette saved from the burning church also came to see her. Since being rescued, the child has been staying at a shelter near the hospital.
The child, seeing Annette, shied away, as if he were shy. But when she smiled and extended her hand, he quickly let his guard down and approached her.
Because of an injury to her left hand, Annette could only hold her child with one hand. The child still couldn't speak.
Annette asked the child, holding out a notepad and pen that were on the nightstand.
“Come to think of it, I still don’t know your name. Could you write it here? Oh, and you can’t write?”
The child nodded vigorously, his face somehow filled with pride, and he picked up the pen. Crooked, clumsy handwriting emerged from his small hands.
Annette smiled after reading it.
“...What a pretty name.”
Joseph
It was the name of the precious life she had saved.
***
Katrine's letter arrived late at the Portsmouth Hospital. The urgent wartime situation had significantly delayed delivery.
The date on the letter was before the bombing of Sinsier. Annette tried calling the Grotts, but couldn't get through.
‘...Should I go and see them in person after I’m discharged from the military?’
Annette was planning to be discharged soon. She'd wanted to quit, but it was hard to do her job properly with those hands anyway.
This hand.
Annette looked at her left hand with sunken eyes.
No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, to not think about it, I couldn't. Even though I'd known for a long time that I'd never be able to play the piano again...
When it actually became a reality, bearing the name of 'lifetime', Annette began to feel despair whenever she was alone.
It was a regret that remained and could not die in the end.
About what was once most precious to her.
As the bruises on her face and body began to fade, Annette removed the bandage on her left hand. The numbness in her hand was infinitely unfamiliar and painful.
Time continued to pass.
During all this time, Annette never saw Heiner once.
Heiner never came to see her or contacted her. The last time Annette saw him was the day she first regained consciousness in the hospital room.
Annette wanted to meet him and talk. There was so much to ask and hear. But it was wartime, and she knew he would be very busy, so she just waited.
Time continued to pass.
Around that time, news of the shooting of the Commander-in-Chief in Huntingham was belatedly reported in the newspapers.
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