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The newspaper's edge crumpled in her hands. Annette read the article over and over again with trembling eyes.
The sniper was Private Frances, who was hiding in the Huntingham Recapture Zone, and was killed on the spot. General Headquarters is currently investigating further motives.
“...Fortunately, there is no major danger to his life, but he suffered a serious injury to his abdomen and is currently recovering in the hospital...”
The command center seemed to have tried to hide this as much as possible, but it eventually came to light through civilian witnesses who were present at the scene.
The article simply reported the facts: location, date, general circumstances... There was no mention of the commander-in-chief being shot during a rescue operation.
But Annette was able to deduce all the circumstances from there.
There was only one situation in which Heiner would have been so vulnerable, on that date, in that place, and exposed to a sniper.
'He... came directly to rescue...?'
Annette's expression changed into a stunned one. Only then did she understand why Heiner was here at Potsman Hospital.
He was wounded during a rescue operation and brought here with them.
Annette tossed the newspaper aside and got out of bed. She had to see him. She had to talk to him.
She knew it was a step back from her promise to never see him again. But now wasn't the time to be arguing about that.
She was walking briskly, but stopped for a moment when she looked at the mirror hanging on the wall.
The woman in the winter looked extremely haggard and tired. It was not only her injury, but also the result of recent nightmares that had kept her from sleeping properly.
Moreover, the raw wounds on her face, which hadn't fully healed, stood out. From every angle, she looked a complete mess.
Annette unconsciously overlapped her past self with her present self.
Her once honey-lustrous hair, her once sparkling, pure eyes, and her once beautiful, pale skin were nowhere to be found. Her hair and skin, completely uncared for, were frizzy and dull, and her eyes were dark, as if shadows were cast around them.
The person she was now was just a shabby, tired, old woman.
She stared intently at the mirror, then tidied her disheveled hair. She stroked her pale lips, then lowered her hand when she realized she had no makeup on.
Annette forced herself to look away from the mirror and left the hospital room.
The hospital corridors were teeming with patients and their guardians. Annette walked aimlessly, wherever her feet took her. Finally, at the end of the corridor, she paused in a daze.
Even though she finally came out, she had no idea where to go. She didn't even know who to ask about his whereabouts.
“Oh my, why are you here?”
Annette's caregiver spotted her wandering down the hallway and approached her. Annette turned her head, her face half-dazed.
"Ah..."
“Do you need anything?”
“No, it’s not me... Could I possibly meet His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief?”
"Yes?"
The nurse asked, looking puzzled. Annette repeated.
“I would like to meet His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief.”
“Ah... I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Isn’t that the person who hired you?”
“I was just hired, literally. That was fine...”
“...I see. I understand.”
Annette backed away cleanly. It seemed like there was nothing to gain by asking further.
The nurse, who seemed to be observing her for a moment, said, "Let's go into the hospital room," and led her in. As if nothing had happened, the nurse asked kindly about her condition and how she was feeling today.
Annette returned to the hospital room, continuing the conversation as usual. And as soon as she sat down on the bed, she brought up the subject again.
"Then, would it be possible for me to convey this message to someone else? I'd like to meet him."
“Someone else?”
“Yes. Who is my current guardian?”
“Ah... It’s another officer.”
“Then please pass it on to him.”
Then the caregiver made a troubled face and replied that she would try.
Annette thought she would reveal the commander-in-chief's whereabouts. No, even if she didn't know the exact whereabouts, she was sure all this would reach his ears.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to find her right after she woke up.
Heiner was definitely at this hospital. If it was a busy time during the war, they could talk in detail later. But at the very least, she had to see him face-to-face and tell him properly again.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
“Please tell me so...”
Heiner, working on his sickbed, stopped writing, oblivious to the ink dripping from his pen. The ink dripped black across the paper. Tick, tick. The ticking of the clock was particularly loud.
Dark, sunken gray eyes closed between his eyelids, then opened again. Heiner, who had been silent for a moment, finally spoke.
“...How is her recovery?”
"There are no particular problems, but the doctor said she's progressing a bit slowly. She's also quite weak, and I think she may be experiencing some psychological issues."
“If it’s a mental problem.”
“She has frequent nightmares. It seems like she can’t sleep deeply.”
“Is that so...?”
Perhaps it was only natural.
She was nearly burned alive along with the building, and then spent days in the rubble. There was no way she could have survived that.
Moreover, her performance, which she had regained after five years, was to be her last. Annette had lost forever what had once been her whole life.
Heiner asked in a slightly hushed voice.
“About the left hand, was there anything special?”
“She didn’t say anything special. She just said... that it was okay.”
“... Is she okay?”
“Actually, I kind of expected it when her left hand got caught in the rubble. She wasn’t planning on playing the piano again anyway... so it was okay.”
Heiner looked at the nurse in disbelief.
“That’s what she said.”
It was a lie.
It was clear it was a lie. Heiner was sure of it.
She was a woman who dreamed of becoming a pianist. Despite giving up that dream, he knew she still loved the piano.
'But, so what?'
Even if that was a lie, there was nothing he could do now. A feeling of helplessness weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“Also, I’m sorry to be so presumptuous, but... there’s one more thing that concerns me: Miss Rosenberg doesn’t seem to be very motivated to undergo rehabilitation treatment.”
“Are you saying she doesn’t want to get treatment?”
"No, it's not that she's particularly against it. It just seems to me like she's a little unenthusiastic... Actually, this is just my guess, and I apologize if I've brought it up out of the blue."
“...No. I would appreciate it if you could report everything.”
As Heiner spoke, scenes from the past flashed through his mind. It was after Annette's first suicide attempt.
Even then, she was a person who was completely ignorant of everything. She didn't like anything, just seemed like everything was "okay."
Heiner, who was looking back at them again, felt a burning sensation in his throat.
“Your Excellency, what should we do about what Miss Rosenberg asked?”
The nurse's words brought Heiner out of his reverie. His thoughts were slightly delayed. What she asked him was...
She said she wanted to meet him.
Heiner took a slow breath and exhaled. If he let his composure go even a little, his already organized and tangled thoughts would likely become disorganized again.
The steady, rhythmic ticking of the clock filled the room. Finally, a calm answer flowed from his lips.
“...Please tell her I didn’t respond.”
Quiet footsteps stopped in the hallway. The man leaning against the sliding door turned his head slightly.
His gaze turned to the small window in the door. A woman was sitting quietly in the middle of the rehabilitation room.
She was staring at her left hand, still, with the rehabilitation equipment next to her leg.
Her pale face bore no expression. Only her downcast eyes occasionally blinked slowly.
Heiner stood motionless, as if trapped in a tiny space, watching the scene unfold. Amid the silence, a quiet sigh escaped.
The shattered and broken remains of the ruins rattled within his chest. They continued to move, making sharp, raw sounds.
His hanging hand twitched slightly.
He wanted to open this door right now, call her name, and see her up close with his own eyes.
He wanted to tell her that he was the one who made her like that, that he was sorry for everything, and that he was grateful that she lived despite that.
But Heiner didn't do that.
He chose not to do that.
He knew why Annette wanted to see him. She probably knew about his wound. Being a sharp woman, she probably had some inkling of the situation.
But Heiner hoped that she would just stay like this and slowly forget everything that had happened back then.
Just let it go far away like this...
Annette's discharge application has already been processed. She will be returning to the mainland, far from the front lines, and they will never meet again.
Just as she had hoped.
His hands, which had been trembling intermittently, clenched into fists. He forced himself to look away from the window and quietly turned around.
It was right to end it now.
A sinful heart, a foolish longing.
The sniper was Private Frances, who was hiding in the Huntingham Recapture Zone, and was killed on the spot. General Headquarters is currently investigating further motives.
“...Fortunately, there is no major danger to his life, but he suffered a serious injury to his abdomen and is currently recovering in the hospital...”
The command center seemed to have tried to hide this as much as possible, but it eventually came to light through civilian witnesses who were present at the scene.
The article simply reported the facts: location, date, general circumstances... There was no mention of the commander-in-chief being shot during a rescue operation.
But Annette was able to deduce all the circumstances from there.
There was only one situation in which Heiner would have been so vulnerable, on that date, in that place, and exposed to a sniper.
'He... came directly to rescue...?'
Annette's expression changed into a stunned one. Only then did she understand why Heiner was here at Potsman Hospital.
He was wounded during a rescue operation and brought here with them.
Annette tossed the newspaper aside and got out of bed. She had to see him. She had to talk to him.
She knew it was a step back from her promise to never see him again. But now wasn't the time to be arguing about that.
She was walking briskly, but stopped for a moment when she looked at the mirror hanging on the wall.
The woman in the winter looked extremely haggard and tired. It was not only her injury, but also the result of recent nightmares that had kept her from sleeping properly.
Moreover, the raw wounds on her face, which hadn't fully healed, stood out. From every angle, she looked a complete mess.
Annette unconsciously overlapped her past self with her present self.
Her once honey-lustrous hair, her once sparkling, pure eyes, and her once beautiful, pale skin were nowhere to be found. Her hair and skin, completely uncared for, were frizzy and dull, and her eyes were dark, as if shadows were cast around them.
The person she was now was just a shabby, tired, old woman.
She stared intently at the mirror, then tidied her disheveled hair. She stroked her pale lips, then lowered her hand when she realized she had no makeup on.
Annette forced herself to look away from the mirror and left the hospital room.
The hospital corridors were teeming with patients and their guardians. Annette walked aimlessly, wherever her feet took her. Finally, at the end of the corridor, she paused in a daze.
Even though she finally came out, she had no idea where to go. She didn't even know who to ask about his whereabouts.
“Oh my, why are you here?”
Annette's caregiver spotted her wandering down the hallway and approached her. Annette turned her head, her face half-dazed.
"Ah..."
“Do you need anything?”
“No, it’s not me... Could I possibly meet His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief?”
"Yes?"
The nurse asked, looking puzzled. Annette repeated.
“I would like to meet His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief.”
“Ah... I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Isn’t that the person who hired you?”
“I was just hired, literally. That was fine...”
“...I see. I understand.”
Annette backed away cleanly. It seemed like there was nothing to gain by asking further.
The nurse, who seemed to be observing her for a moment, said, "Let's go into the hospital room," and led her in. As if nothing had happened, the nurse asked kindly about her condition and how she was feeling today.
Annette returned to the hospital room, continuing the conversation as usual. And as soon as she sat down on the bed, she brought up the subject again.
"Then, would it be possible for me to convey this message to someone else? I'd like to meet him."
“Someone else?”
“Yes. Who is my current guardian?”
“Ah... It’s another officer.”
“Then please pass it on to him.”
Then the caregiver made a troubled face and replied that she would try.
Annette thought she would reveal the commander-in-chief's whereabouts. No, even if she didn't know the exact whereabouts, she was sure all this would reach his ears.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to find her right after she woke up.
Heiner was definitely at this hospital. If it was a busy time during the war, they could talk in detail later. But at the very least, she had to see him face-to-face and tell him properly again.
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
***
“Please tell me so...”
Heiner, working on his sickbed, stopped writing, oblivious to the ink dripping from his pen. The ink dripped black across the paper. Tick, tick. The ticking of the clock was particularly loud.
Dark, sunken gray eyes closed between his eyelids, then opened again. Heiner, who had been silent for a moment, finally spoke.
“...How is her recovery?”
"There are no particular problems, but the doctor said she's progressing a bit slowly. She's also quite weak, and I think she may be experiencing some psychological issues."
“If it’s a mental problem.”
“She has frequent nightmares. It seems like she can’t sleep deeply.”
“Is that so...?”
Perhaps it was only natural.
She was nearly burned alive along with the building, and then spent days in the rubble. There was no way she could have survived that.
Moreover, her performance, which she had regained after five years, was to be her last. Annette had lost forever what had once been her whole life.
Heiner asked in a slightly hushed voice.
“About the left hand, was there anything special?”
“She didn’t say anything special. She just said... that it was okay.”
“... Is she okay?”
“Actually, I kind of expected it when her left hand got caught in the rubble. She wasn’t planning on playing the piano again anyway... so it was okay.”
Heiner looked at the nurse in disbelief.
“That’s what she said.”
It was a lie.
It was clear it was a lie. Heiner was sure of it.
She was a woman who dreamed of becoming a pianist. Despite giving up that dream, he knew she still loved the piano.
'But, so what?'
Even if that was a lie, there was nothing he could do now. A feeling of helplessness weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“Also, I’m sorry to be so presumptuous, but... there’s one more thing that concerns me: Miss Rosenberg doesn’t seem to be very motivated to undergo rehabilitation treatment.”
“Are you saying she doesn’t want to get treatment?”
"No, it's not that she's particularly against it. It just seems to me like she's a little unenthusiastic... Actually, this is just my guess, and I apologize if I've brought it up out of the blue."
“...No. I would appreciate it if you could report everything.”
As Heiner spoke, scenes from the past flashed through his mind. It was after Annette's first suicide attempt.
Even then, she was a person who was completely ignorant of everything. She didn't like anything, just seemed like everything was "okay."
Heiner, who was looking back at them again, felt a burning sensation in his throat.
“Your Excellency, what should we do about what Miss Rosenberg asked?”
The nurse's words brought Heiner out of his reverie. His thoughts were slightly delayed. What she asked him was...
She said she wanted to meet him.
Heiner took a slow breath and exhaled. If he let his composure go even a little, his already organized and tangled thoughts would likely become disorganized again.
The steady, rhythmic ticking of the clock filled the room. Finally, a calm answer flowed from his lips.
“...Please tell her I didn’t respond.”
***
Quiet footsteps stopped in the hallway. The man leaning against the sliding door turned his head slightly.
His gaze turned to the small window in the door. A woman was sitting quietly in the middle of the rehabilitation room.
She was staring at her left hand, still, with the rehabilitation equipment next to her leg.
Her pale face bore no expression. Only her downcast eyes occasionally blinked slowly.
Heiner stood motionless, as if trapped in a tiny space, watching the scene unfold. Amid the silence, a quiet sigh escaped.
The shattered and broken remains of the ruins rattled within his chest. They continued to move, making sharp, raw sounds.
His hanging hand twitched slightly.
He wanted to open this door right now, call her name, and see her up close with his own eyes.
He wanted to tell her that he was the one who made her like that, that he was sorry for everything, and that he was grateful that she lived despite that.
But Heiner didn't do that.
He chose not to do that.
He knew why Annette wanted to see him. She probably knew about his wound. Being a sharp woman, she probably had some inkling of the situation.
But Heiner hoped that she would just stay like this and slowly forget everything that had happened back then.
Just let it go far away like this...
Annette's discharge application has already been processed. She will be returning to the mainland, far from the front lines, and they will never meet again.
Just as she had hoped.
His hands, which had been trembling intermittently, clenched into fists. He forced himself to look away from the window and quietly turned around.
It was right to end it now.
A sinful heart, a foolish longing.
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