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[ Dear Katrine,
I hope this letter reaches you safely.
As the front lines were pushed back and we were evacuating, I received your letter quite late. I apologize for worrying you.
Katrine might have seen the newspaper. Things went wrong during the operation, and I suffered a minor injury. Don't worry. It wasn't a serious injury, and I'm currently receiving treatment at Portsman Hospital and doing well.
I can't tell you how heartbreaking it was to hear that bombers had landed in Sinsier. I tried calling Grott's residence, but the line didn't seem to be connecting.
Are you okay? Are you safe?
(...syncopation...)
I've had some issues with that person lately—I'm sure it's the person you're thinking of. My feelings are really complicated, so I reread the postscript to your last letter. It was very helpful.
Actually, I know in my head that it's right to break things off with him here and now. Both of us should go our separate ways, with nothing left to hold onto.
But finally, I want to have a proper talk with that person.
It wasn't until I was in the church, held captive, and facing death, that I realized I had never done that before... That was the regret I had.
Katrine, I don't believe that everything can be miraculously resolved through deep conversation.
But I think by learning something I didn't know, I have the opportunity to make slightly better choices, just like you and I did in the reception room of the official residence under the winter sun.
If I miss that opportunity again... I think I'll regret it for the rest of my life.
Katrine, you said, I'm too eager to be allowed to feel what I want, so you'll give me permission to feel what I want.
I'm thinking of following you. You'll support me, right?
(...syncopation...)
I'll be discharged from the military as soon as I'm recovered. I'll stop by Sinsier on my way back. I'm really looking forward to seeing you, the kind Bruner, and the lovely Olivia.
When I get back, I want to have a deep conversation with you that I haven't been able to have before.
Until then, please stay healthy and well.
With love,
Annette Rosenberg ]
As her body began to recover, Annette no longer needed a caregiver on call 24/7. She decided to call a caregiver only when needed during the day.
Around that time, Annette heard Heiner's answer from the caregiver. She said he hadn't responded to her request.
There was no response.
She struggled with this answer, unsure if it meant rejection or simply a genuine lack of response.
Annette asked the caregiver again, but the answer was the same. Finally, she gave up on trying to communicate.
But that didn't mean she gave up on meeting him.
There was still some time left until her discharge, and she had nothing else to do. Annette decided to wait for him in the lobby on the first floor of the hospital.
Even so, she wouldn't be cooped up in the hospital room all day. Since she was admitted, she knew she be discharged someday, and if she stayed here, she would probably see him someday. It was a somewhat complacent thought.
With that thought in mind, Annette spent most of the day sitting in a chair in the lobby.
She knew it was all stupid. There was no guarantee she would see him even if she spent all day here.
But that was all she could do.
Also, sitting in an open, crowded lobby brought her more peace of mind and body than being in a cramped private hospital room.
When she was in the hospital room with the door closed, she would suffer from a strange fear, as if the ceiling were about to collapse, even though she knew it couldn't happen.
Of course, she didn't tell the caretaker this. She just left her there, thinking she was waiting for the Commander-in-Chief. That way, he'd hear about it.
Time passed slowly.
[Cherento broke his declaration of neutrality and declared his intention to participate in the war. His declaration, in accordance with the current neutrality laws, was based on the spirit of the state religion...]
Annette knitted while listening to the radio in the lobby. A woman in the next room had given it to her, saying it was a nice way to pass the time.
Since it's been so long since she made it, she started again with the relatively easy scarf. She gotten the hang of it, and she is already more than halfway through.
“Oh my, who is this?”
Annette raised her head at the sound from above. A wrinkled face smiled before her. Annette opened her mouth happily.
“Grandma.”
She is an old woman who treated injuries at church.
With her help, the old woman escaped the church safely and was currently receiving treatment at Portsman Hospital. It was the first time she had seen Annette since she had visited her in her hospital room the previous time.
“Can I sit next to you for a moment?”
"Of course. It's been a while. How have you been? Are you feeling well?"
"I'm almost better now. I'll be discharged soon. Are you feeling better? Your complexion isn't looking too good."
“I’m fine. I guess it’s because I didn’t sleep well.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“It’s just that my dreams were a little rough...”
"That's understandable. It'd be strange if you were fine after going through that."
The old woman clicked her tongue slightly. Annette smiled silently.
“More than that, why are you here like this?”
“Oh, I’m just... waiting for someone.”
“Wait? When is he coming?”
“I don’t know. In fact, I don’t even know if he’ll come or not.”
"Is it so?"
The old woman didn't ask any more questions. She simply remained silent, as if pondering something, and offered quiet advice.
"If you're going to wait, wait a long time. That way, you won't have any regrets later."
The old woman's voice sounded somewhat lonely. Annette listened intently.
"When I was young, my husband worked in a coal mine overseas. One day, I received news that the mine had collapsed and he had died. At first, I couldn't believe it, and I waited for him to return. But eventually, I remarried. I couldn't support my children on my own."
"Ah..."
"But then, about six months after I remarried, my husband, who I thought was dead, came back to life. It was a miracle, but I couldn't be overjoyed. At the time, I was pregnant with my second husband's child... Well, that's the conclusion."
The years were layered upon the old woman's face like rings, the marks of a hard life.
"I don't think my choice back then was wrong. It was the best I could have done at the time. But I do regret it. Back then, the time I waited for my husband felt incredibly long, but looking back now, it wasn't that long after all..."
The words were cracked like tree roots. The voice of the old woman, well past her prime, was small and feeble, yet strangely clear.
The old woman said with a smile.
"Regret is inevitable, no matter what you choose. That's life, so what can you do? We just try to minimize our regrets."
The hospital lobby late at night was quiet and dark.
Annette, who was sitting alone knitting, realized that she had knitted the wrong stitch and began to untie it.
However, it took a while for Annette to realize she'd tied it wrong, so it took her a while to untie it. Annette took her time, carefully blowing her nose.
The moment she grabbed the knitting needle and untangled the tangled yarn with her right hand—as if by magic, the strength in her left hand ebbed away. It felt like she stepped onto a staircase, only to fall.
The knitting fell onto her knees. Before she could catch it, it slid down the hem of her skirt and onto the floor.
For some reason, her heart sank.
Annette sat there, her left hand hanging limply on her knee, not even bothering to pick up the fallen knitwear.
She lowered her gaze and looked at her left hand, which was limp. She tried to move jer fingers, but they wouldn't move as she wanted.
A dark silence crept over her limbs. Annette lowered her eyes and breathed softly. She simply wondered what the point of all this was.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from deep within the lobby hallway. Annette didn't even bother to check on the person, just kept her gaze down.
The steady footsteps soon became audible, drawing near. Annette belatedly raised her head, realizing the sound was somehow familiar.
A large, thick hand suddenly came into view.
The hand picked up the knitting that had fallen to the floor and offered it to her. Annette stared blankly at the knitting before her, then slowly raised her head.
His characteristically sharp and sinister face gazed down at her. His deep-set gray eyes held no light. There was a hint of anger in them.
Annette, who had been staring blankly at him, hesitantly took the knitting needle.
Heiner silently extended a hand, seemingly suggesting she take it and stand up. Annette hesitated, looking slightly flustered, then cautiously took his hand and stood up.
He walked straight down the hallway. Annette, unable to think of a word, let him lead her by the hand. She glanced at the hand she was holding.
His calloused, firm hand held hers with minimal force, as if he were handling a small, fragile creature. There was a strange feeling about that.
I hope this letter reaches you safely.
As the front lines were pushed back and we were evacuating, I received your letter quite late. I apologize for worrying you.
Katrine might have seen the newspaper. Things went wrong during the operation, and I suffered a minor injury. Don't worry. It wasn't a serious injury, and I'm currently receiving treatment at Portsman Hospital and doing well.
I can't tell you how heartbreaking it was to hear that bombers had landed in Sinsier. I tried calling Grott's residence, but the line didn't seem to be connecting.
Are you okay? Are you safe?
(...syncopation...)
I've had some issues with that person lately—I'm sure it's the person you're thinking of. My feelings are really complicated, so I reread the postscript to your last letter. It was very helpful.
Actually, I know in my head that it's right to break things off with him here and now. Both of us should go our separate ways, with nothing left to hold onto.
But finally, I want to have a proper talk with that person.
It wasn't until I was in the church, held captive, and facing death, that I realized I had never done that before... That was the regret I had.
Katrine, I don't believe that everything can be miraculously resolved through deep conversation.
But I think by learning something I didn't know, I have the opportunity to make slightly better choices, just like you and I did in the reception room of the official residence under the winter sun.
If I miss that opportunity again... I think I'll regret it for the rest of my life.
Katrine, you said, I'm too eager to be allowed to feel what I want, so you'll give me permission to feel what I want.
I'm thinking of following you. You'll support me, right?
(...syncopation...)
I'll be discharged from the military as soon as I'm recovered. I'll stop by Sinsier on my way back. I'm really looking forward to seeing you, the kind Bruner, and the lovely Olivia.
When I get back, I want to have a deep conversation with you that I haven't been able to have before.
Until then, please stay healthy and well.
With love,
Annette Rosenberg ]
***
As her body began to recover, Annette no longer needed a caregiver on call 24/7. She decided to call a caregiver only when needed during the day.
Around that time, Annette heard Heiner's answer from the caregiver. She said he hadn't responded to her request.
There was no response.
She struggled with this answer, unsure if it meant rejection or simply a genuine lack of response.
Annette asked the caregiver again, but the answer was the same. Finally, she gave up on trying to communicate.
But that didn't mean she gave up on meeting him.
There was still some time left until her discharge, and she had nothing else to do. Annette decided to wait for him in the lobby on the first floor of the hospital.
Even so, she wouldn't be cooped up in the hospital room all day. Since she was admitted, she knew she be discharged someday, and if she stayed here, she would probably see him someday. It was a somewhat complacent thought.
With that thought in mind, Annette spent most of the day sitting in a chair in the lobby.
She knew it was all stupid. There was no guarantee she would see him even if she spent all day here.
But that was all she could do.
Also, sitting in an open, crowded lobby brought her more peace of mind and body than being in a cramped private hospital room.
When she was in the hospital room with the door closed, she would suffer from a strange fear, as if the ceiling were about to collapse, even though she knew it couldn't happen.
Of course, she didn't tell the caretaker this. She just left her there, thinking she was waiting for the Commander-in-Chief. That way, he'd hear about it.
Time passed slowly.
[Cherento broke his declaration of neutrality and declared his intention to participate in the war. His declaration, in accordance with the current neutrality laws, was based on the spirit of the state religion...]
Annette knitted while listening to the radio in the lobby. A woman in the next room had given it to her, saying it was a nice way to pass the time.
Since it's been so long since she made it, she started again with the relatively easy scarf. She gotten the hang of it, and she is already more than halfway through.
“Oh my, who is this?”
Annette raised her head at the sound from above. A wrinkled face smiled before her. Annette opened her mouth happily.
“Grandma.”
She is an old woman who treated injuries at church.
With her help, the old woman escaped the church safely and was currently receiving treatment at Portsman Hospital. It was the first time she had seen Annette since she had visited her in her hospital room the previous time.
“Can I sit next to you for a moment?”
"Of course. It's been a while. How have you been? Are you feeling well?"
"I'm almost better now. I'll be discharged soon. Are you feeling better? Your complexion isn't looking too good."
“I’m fine. I guess it’s because I didn’t sleep well.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“It’s just that my dreams were a little rough...”
"That's understandable. It'd be strange if you were fine after going through that."
The old woman clicked her tongue slightly. Annette smiled silently.
“More than that, why are you here like this?”
“Oh, I’m just... waiting for someone.”
“Wait? When is he coming?”
“I don’t know. In fact, I don’t even know if he’ll come or not.”
"Is it so?"
The old woman didn't ask any more questions. She simply remained silent, as if pondering something, and offered quiet advice.
"If you're going to wait, wait a long time. That way, you won't have any regrets later."
The old woman's voice sounded somewhat lonely. Annette listened intently.
"When I was young, my husband worked in a coal mine overseas. One day, I received news that the mine had collapsed and he had died. At first, I couldn't believe it, and I waited for him to return. But eventually, I remarried. I couldn't support my children on my own."
"Ah..."
"But then, about six months after I remarried, my husband, who I thought was dead, came back to life. It was a miracle, but I couldn't be overjoyed. At the time, I was pregnant with my second husband's child... Well, that's the conclusion."
The years were layered upon the old woman's face like rings, the marks of a hard life.
"I don't think my choice back then was wrong. It was the best I could have done at the time. But I do regret it. Back then, the time I waited for my husband felt incredibly long, but looking back now, it wasn't that long after all..."
The words were cracked like tree roots. The voice of the old woman, well past her prime, was small and feeble, yet strangely clear.
The old woman said with a smile.
"Regret is inevitable, no matter what you choose. That's life, so what can you do? We just try to minimize our regrets."
***
The hospital lobby late at night was quiet and dark.
Annette, who was sitting alone knitting, realized that she had knitted the wrong stitch and began to untie it.
However, it took a while for Annette to realize she'd tied it wrong, so it took her a while to untie it. Annette took her time, carefully blowing her nose.
The moment she grabbed the knitting needle and untangled the tangled yarn with her right hand—as if by magic, the strength in her left hand ebbed away. It felt like she stepped onto a staircase, only to fall.
The knitting fell onto her knees. Before she could catch it, it slid down the hem of her skirt and onto the floor.
For some reason, her heart sank.
Annette sat there, her left hand hanging limply on her knee, not even bothering to pick up the fallen knitwear.
She lowered her gaze and looked at her left hand, which was limp. She tried to move jer fingers, but they wouldn't move as she wanted.
A dark silence crept over her limbs. Annette lowered her eyes and breathed softly. She simply wondered what the point of all this was.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from deep within the lobby hallway. Annette didn't even bother to check on the person, just kept her gaze down.
The steady footsteps soon became audible, drawing near. Annette belatedly raised her head, realizing the sound was somehow familiar.
A large, thick hand suddenly came into view.
The hand picked up the knitting that had fallen to the floor and offered it to her. Annette stared blankly at the knitting before her, then slowly raised her head.
His characteristically sharp and sinister face gazed down at her. His deep-set gray eyes held no light. There was a hint of anger in them.
Annette, who had been staring blankly at him, hesitantly took the knitting needle.
Heiner silently extended a hand, seemingly suggesting she take it and stand up. Annette hesitated, looking slightly flustered, then cautiously took his hand and stood up.
He walked straight down the hallway. Annette, unable to think of a word, let him lead her by the hand. She glanced at the hand she was holding.
His calloused, firm hand held hers with minimal force, as if he were handling a small, fragile creature. There was a strange feeling about that.
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