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At the tail end of winter, the still-chilly air swept through the fallen leaves on the streets. The Santa Molino Market was quieter than usual.
A man in a black coat was walking down a deserted street. With his fedora pulled down low, he entered a small flower shop in the corner of the market.
“Welcome.”
The owner, who had been trimming the branches, rose from his seat to greet his long-awaited guest. He flinched when he saw who he was. He was a man of such imposing size that he was almost intimidating.
Because the shop was small, the man had to crouch slightly. As he looked around, his body hunched over, the owner asked him kindly.
“Are you looking for something?”
“...I would like to order a bouquet.”
“Of course. Is there a particular flower you would like?”
“Blue hydrangeas and starches.”
“Oh, but Stachys is a flower that blooms in the summer... I have it as a dried flower, and it’s also very pretty. Would you like to see it?”
The man nodded. The owner brought a bundle of stachys wrapped in paper from inside the shop. The bluish-purple petals were vibrant despite being completely dehydrated.
"Usually, other flowers change color or become dull when dried, but Stachys retains its color. It remains beautiful even after a long time."
The owner's calm explanation continued. The man looked at Starchis intently, as if observing him.
“That’s why Starchis also has the flower language of unchanging love.”
The man's gaze never left the flowers. The owner, guessing he was planning to give them to his lover, smiled broadly.
“Then shall I give you this?”
Heiner climbed the hillside, holding a bouquet of flowers. Beyond the low stone wall surrounding the road, the vast ocean stretched out before him.
The petals swayed in the cold sea breeze. He covered the bouquet he held in his arms with the hem of his coat, fearing the leaves might fall.
Annette recently completed her first song. While it hasn't been officially released yet, she plans to submit it to a composition competition for new composers.
That's why he bought a bouquet of flowers.
He wanted to congratulate her on her new path before the presentation day.
Waves crashed in the distance. Heiner imagined Annette walking down this hill, with the horizon visible beyond, with her characteristically neat yet light stride.
Golden hair flutters in the sea breeze, long eyelashes shine in the sunlight, and blue eyes filled with the sea close between eyelids and then reveal themselves again.
The fluttering hems of her skirt wrapped around her legs as she walked up the street, revealing her white ankles and ankle bones, and the low heels of her shoes clacked against the ground in regular, multi-angled patterns...
The whole series of scenes unfolded like a masterpiece in his head.
Suddenly, a strong wind blew.
As she was climbing the hill, she looked back.
Her blond hair wafted through the air. Annette stared at him, panting. Heiner stared up at the woman, who stood far above his level.
Swaaa ...
Soon, a house with a sky-blue roof came into view in the distance. His pace quickened a little.
The house was directly connected to the gate, unobstructed by the road. Heiner approached the gate, wondering if a high fence might be necessary.
His heart pounded like a calf was sprinting inside his chest. His body was straining, and he had to fight to keep from crushing the bouquet of flowers he held.
Heiner stood straight in front of the door. After a pointless check of his attire, he took off his fedora. A trembling breath escaped his lips.
The moment he was about to knock on the door with his hat in his hand.
“─.”
Suddenly, from somewhere, faint voices and laughter could be heard.
Heiner's hand froze. It was clearly a man's and a woman's voice. But he couldn't tell whether the sound came from the right or the left.
He paused for a moment, then cautiously stepped away. Heiner barely managed to follow the distant sound and walked toward the backyard of the house.
The voices grew closer. He approached, keeping his presence low. Dry grass crunched beneath his shoes.
The backyard scene that finally emerged contained two figures: a man and a woman. The woman sitting on a white chair was the first thing Heiner's hazy eyes caught.
The woman, wearing a thick, light brown cardigan draped over her shoulders, had her legs hugged. Her head was tilted to the side.
Heiner's gaze followed the woman's head to the side.
At the end of it all was a man. He was repairing the garden fence, carrying tools, and talking nonstop to the woman. Heiner knew him.
Ryan Fromm.
He was a sergeant from the 62nd Division of the Army who had met Annette in the church building in the rear.
“Ahahaha─.”
As Ryan spoke, Annette covered her mouth and laughed out loud. The refreshing sound of her laughter carried through the cold air to his ears.
'Ah.'
Heiner groaned silently.
They looked like... a newlywed couple starting their new home together. It was a sight of boundless peace and happiness. Almost perfect.
Heiner stared frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the scene. He felt like an uninvited intruder. He couldn't move his feet. He couldn't say or do anything.
Actually, maybe,
Maybe, they can just move forward like this.
If he were to give her a bouquet of flowers, show his pain, and tell her that he was broken again, so pitiful and miserable.
She might embrace him again. She might share his pain, as if she couldn't bear to pass by a beggar. Like that night when the moonlight beautifully enveloped them.
But he couldn't do that.
Just as he couldn't grab her wrist as she smiled dazzlingly on the beach at Glenford, he couldn't force her to her feet and drag her to the official residence.
He couldn't do that.
In the face of Annette's longing for death, it was as if he could no longer restrain her. As if he had no choice but to let her go.
He couldn't do that.
Heiner wanted her to smile. He wanted her to stop hurting, just be happy. In fact, it had been that way from the beginning.
That's why...
He couldn't do that.
If he couldn't undo what he'd ruined, he should at least stop ruining it. That was his only remaining duty.
Heiner slowly backed away. The chaotic chatter faded away. The peaceful sight of the two men and women soon disappeared behind the wall. He turned completely away from the sky-blue-roofed house.
One day in the winter that had almost passed, spring seemed to be just around the corner.
Where someone had left, only a bouquet of flowers remained.
“Annette, it’s all done. Would you like to come and check it out?”
“Wow, it’s perfect, it’s perfect.”
Ryan smiled proudly at her admiration. Annette looked at the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and made an apologetic face.
“I can’t help but be so grateful. You even took care of the house, and now you’re giving me this...”
"Thank you. I'm more grateful. Please take good care of my nephew."
Ryan's teenage nephew was to learn a trade at a workshop in Santa Molino's Market for a month, but was staying at Annette's house for a while.
Ryan was sorry and grateful and helped her with all the repairs to her house, including rearranging the furniture.
Annette asked worriedly.
“You’re not too late, are you? You said you had to go in the evening.”
“Haha, it’s okay. I still have some time.”
“Go inside and drink something. It’ll be tough.”
“Oh, then please give me something cold.”
Ryan stood up, holding the toolbox. Annette offered to carry it, but he wouldn't yield, and a small scuffle ensued all the way to the front door.
“Huh?”
They paused, their squabbling in confusion, at the sight of a bouquet of flowers placed before the front door. It was a bouquet of hydrangeas and starch, its blue petals swaying gently.
“It’s a bouquet of flowers?”
Ryan, who was tilting his head, joked.
“Wasn’t it someone who had a crush on Annette and left it behind? Haha, I don’t know who it was, but... Annette?”
Annette, who had been staring blankly at the bouquet, suddenly turned around and ran out onto the road. Ryan didn't even have time to catch her.
Clap. Her low-heeled shoes slid down the gentle slope. Her running picked up speed. The sea breeze from the horizon ruffled her hair.
It was you.
Annette ran frantically down the hill. She was starting to get out of breath. Her skirt wrapped around her legs, hindering her movements. Still, she kept running, kept running.
It was you.
As a child, I've wondered for a long time: Who left this bouquet of flowers by the window? Who listened to my performance like a thief and then disappeared?
This bouquet, which resembles the color of my eyes, was given to me by a gentleman who knows romance.
“I... have been... for a long time...”
“It’s been a really long time...”
“I’ve been thinking about you all along.”
Crash. A wave crashed. The depths of her chest were pushed back and forth with the current, then returned to their original position. She closed her eyes, then opened them.
At the end of the downhill slope, his back was visible.
Shoe heels clacked rhythmically on the road. She thought he'd be alert and would immediately notice the movement, but he simply continued onward.
Annette took a deep breath.
“Heiner!”
And through her gasping breath, she spat out his name. The wind carrying her voice blew down the slope.
The waves hit again.
The gentleman in the black coat looked back.
A man in a black coat was walking down a deserted street. With his fedora pulled down low, he entered a small flower shop in the corner of the market.
“Welcome.”
The owner, who had been trimming the branches, rose from his seat to greet his long-awaited guest. He flinched when he saw who he was. He was a man of such imposing size that he was almost intimidating.
Because the shop was small, the man had to crouch slightly. As he looked around, his body hunched over, the owner asked him kindly.
“Are you looking for something?”
“...I would like to order a bouquet.”
“Of course. Is there a particular flower you would like?”
“Blue hydrangeas and starches.”
“Oh, but Stachys is a flower that blooms in the summer... I have it as a dried flower, and it’s also very pretty. Would you like to see it?”
The man nodded. The owner brought a bundle of stachys wrapped in paper from inside the shop. The bluish-purple petals were vibrant despite being completely dehydrated.
"Usually, other flowers change color or become dull when dried, but Stachys retains its color. It remains beautiful even after a long time."
The owner's calm explanation continued. The man looked at Starchis intently, as if observing him.
“That’s why Starchis also has the flower language of unchanging love.”
The man's gaze never left the flowers. The owner, guessing he was planning to give them to his lover, smiled broadly.
“Then shall I give you this?”
***
Heiner climbed the hillside, holding a bouquet of flowers. Beyond the low stone wall surrounding the road, the vast ocean stretched out before him.
The petals swayed in the cold sea breeze. He covered the bouquet he held in his arms with the hem of his coat, fearing the leaves might fall.
Annette recently completed her first song. While it hasn't been officially released yet, she plans to submit it to a composition competition for new composers.
That's why he bought a bouquet of flowers.
He wanted to congratulate her on her new path before the presentation day.
Waves crashed in the distance. Heiner imagined Annette walking down this hill, with the horizon visible beyond, with her characteristically neat yet light stride.
Golden hair flutters in the sea breeze, long eyelashes shine in the sunlight, and blue eyes filled with the sea close between eyelids and then reveal themselves again.
The fluttering hems of her skirt wrapped around her legs as she walked up the street, revealing her white ankles and ankle bones, and the low heels of her shoes clacked against the ground in regular, multi-angled patterns...
The whole series of scenes unfolded like a masterpiece in his head.
Suddenly, a strong wind blew.
As she was climbing the hill, she looked back.
Her blond hair wafted through the air. Annette stared at him, panting. Heiner stared up at the woman, who stood far above his level.
Swaaa ...
Soon, a house with a sky-blue roof came into view in the distance. His pace quickened a little.
The house was directly connected to the gate, unobstructed by the road. Heiner approached the gate, wondering if a high fence might be necessary.
His heart pounded like a calf was sprinting inside his chest. His body was straining, and he had to fight to keep from crushing the bouquet of flowers he held.
Heiner stood straight in front of the door. After a pointless check of his attire, he took off his fedora. A trembling breath escaped his lips.
The moment he was about to knock on the door with his hat in his hand.
“─.”
Suddenly, from somewhere, faint voices and laughter could be heard.
Heiner's hand froze. It was clearly a man's and a woman's voice. But he couldn't tell whether the sound came from the right or the left.
He paused for a moment, then cautiously stepped away. Heiner barely managed to follow the distant sound and walked toward the backyard of the house.
The voices grew closer. He approached, keeping his presence low. Dry grass crunched beneath his shoes.
The backyard scene that finally emerged contained two figures: a man and a woman. The woman sitting on a white chair was the first thing Heiner's hazy eyes caught.
The woman, wearing a thick, light brown cardigan draped over her shoulders, had her legs hugged. Her head was tilted to the side.
Heiner's gaze followed the woman's head to the side.
At the end of it all was a man. He was repairing the garden fence, carrying tools, and talking nonstop to the woman. Heiner knew him.
Ryan Fromm.
He was a sergeant from the 62nd Division of the Army who had met Annette in the church building in the rear.
“Ahahaha─.”
As Ryan spoke, Annette covered her mouth and laughed out loud. The refreshing sound of her laughter carried through the cold air to his ears.
'Ah.'
Heiner groaned silently.
They looked like... a newlywed couple starting their new home together. It was a sight of boundless peace and happiness. Almost perfect.
Heiner stared frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the scene. He felt like an uninvited intruder. He couldn't move his feet. He couldn't say or do anything.
Actually, maybe,
Maybe, they can just move forward like this.
If he were to give her a bouquet of flowers, show his pain, and tell her that he was broken again, so pitiful and miserable.
She might embrace him again. She might share his pain, as if she couldn't bear to pass by a beggar. Like that night when the moonlight beautifully enveloped them.
But he couldn't do that.
Just as he couldn't grab her wrist as she smiled dazzlingly on the beach at Glenford, he couldn't force her to her feet and drag her to the official residence.
He couldn't do that.
In the face of Annette's longing for death, it was as if he could no longer restrain her. As if he had no choice but to let her go.
He couldn't do that.
Heiner wanted her to smile. He wanted her to stop hurting, just be happy. In fact, it had been that way from the beginning.
That's why...
He couldn't do that.
If he couldn't undo what he'd ruined, he should at least stop ruining it. That was his only remaining duty.
Heiner slowly backed away. The chaotic chatter faded away. The peaceful sight of the two men and women soon disappeared behind the wall. He turned completely away from the sky-blue-roofed house.
One day in the winter that had almost passed, spring seemed to be just around the corner.
Where someone had left, only a bouquet of flowers remained.
***
“Annette, it’s all done. Would you like to come and check it out?”
“Wow, it’s perfect, it’s perfect.”
Ryan smiled proudly at her admiration. Annette looked at the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and made an apologetic face.
“I can’t help but be so grateful. You even took care of the house, and now you’re giving me this...”
"Thank you. I'm more grateful. Please take good care of my nephew."
Ryan's teenage nephew was to learn a trade at a workshop in Santa Molino's Market for a month, but was staying at Annette's house for a while.
Ryan was sorry and grateful and helped her with all the repairs to her house, including rearranging the furniture.
Annette asked worriedly.
“You’re not too late, are you? You said you had to go in the evening.”
“Haha, it’s okay. I still have some time.”
“Go inside and drink something. It’ll be tough.”
“Oh, then please give me something cold.”
Ryan stood up, holding the toolbox. Annette offered to carry it, but he wouldn't yield, and a small scuffle ensued all the way to the front door.
“Huh?”
They paused, their squabbling in confusion, at the sight of a bouquet of flowers placed before the front door. It was a bouquet of hydrangeas and starch, its blue petals swaying gently.
“It’s a bouquet of flowers?”
Ryan, who was tilting his head, joked.
“Wasn’t it someone who had a crush on Annette and left it behind? Haha, I don’t know who it was, but... Annette?”
Annette, who had been staring blankly at the bouquet, suddenly turned around and ran out onto the road. Ryan didn't even have time to catch her.
Clap. Her low-heeled shoes slid down the gentle slope. Her running picked up speed. The sea breeze from the horizon ruffled her hair.
It was you.
Annette ran frantically down the hill. She was starting to get out of breath. Her skirt wrapped around her legs, hindering her movements. Still, she kept running, kept running.
It was you.
As a child, I've wondered for a long time: Who left this bouquet of flowers by the window? Who listened to my performance like a thief and then disappeared?
This bouquet, which resembles the color of my eyes, was given to me by a gentleman who knows romance.
“I... have been... for a long time...”
“It’s been a really long time...”
“I’ve been thinking about you all along.”
Crash. A wave crashed. The depths of her chest were pushed back and forth with the current, then returned to their original position. She closed her eyes, then opened them.
At the end of the downhill slope, his back was visible.
Shoe heels clacked rhythmically on the road. She thought he'd be alert and would immediately notice the movement, but he simply continued onward.
Annette took a deep breath.
“Heiner!”
And through her gasping breath, she spat out his name. The wind carrying her voice blew down the slope.
The waves hit again.
The gentleman in the black coat looked back.
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