âNow, do you understand? The reason why I said I didnât like soldiers.â
ââŠâ
âIsnât it really too much? Thinking back on it, I should have shot them all.â
There was moisture on the duvet. Ianâs hand touched her cheek. Only then did Rosen realize that she was crying.
She was grabbing Ian Kerner by the shirt and hitting him in the chest, in place of that unknown captain who sentenced her to certain death.
Why was that d*mn soldierâs eyes the same color as Ian Kernerâs? If they werenât, she wouldnât have felt betrayed by the innocent Ian, who wasnât even there.
âBad guys. D*mn them b*stards.â
ââŠâ
âIâm sure they were all killed during the raid, right? Good. I escaped from prison and survived. Go to hell, they should all go to hell!â
It was strange.
Tears that didnât come when she was talking about being beaten by Hindley suddenly started falling. Crying in front of a soldier, complaining that she didnât like them. She didnât want to do such a stupid thing.
It seemed that her tears were stimulated by anger and resentment rather than sadness.
âSorry. I will apologize instead. Even though itâs too late⊠â
âWhy are you apologizing?â
âBecause I am a soldier.â
He could have stopped her, but Ian let her hit him. It was so sad that tears began to flow again.
âYou are so strong. Only my fist hurts.â
âIt looks like it hurts.â
âI canât lie.â
ââŠDonât cry, Rosen.â
ââŠâ
âI⊠Iâm sorry I wasnât there then. Please donât cry.â
He kept on wiping the tears from her eyes, and Rosen just stared at him, realizing it was no use. She remembered the first time she met him. He said the same thing to her.
How could âdonât cryâ sound so different?
He seemed to realize that these were her real tears. Surprisingly, he was a person who was weakened by sincerity.
âWould things have been different if you were there?â
ââŠIf they were my lieutenants, I would have shot them myself.â
âYou didnât just say you would have killed them, did you?â
âI did.â
âWould you have been okay?â
âYes. Because Iâm a higher rank.â
âYou shouldnât abuse your rank like that. Sir Kerner, do you know how harsh you are on your own men? Like Henry. Itâs good that you didnât lose to Talas.â
âThey used their power to take advantage of citizens who were supposed to be protected by them, and ended up killing them. They deserve to be shot.â
Ianâs tone was so serious that Rosen had to laugh, even with tears in her eyes.
âI hate guns. Itâs too convenient. I donât like letting people die that easily.â
âThen how do you like it?â
Rosen burst out laughing again. It just didnât make sense. Maybe it was because of the gas lamp that was filling the bedroom with hazy light, but somehow all of this felt like it was a dream.
Rosen was burdening him with things that were gone, she couldnât relive, and werenât even his fault. But Ian Kerner was taking it all. After the war was over, they met as a prisoner and a jailer. Now she was holding his hand and lying side by side.
âYou have to die in pain. Thatâs fair. Like a knife. Have you ever stabbed a person with a knife?â
ââŠNo.â
Rosen suddenly realized that Ian Kerner was a pilot. Knights with swords lost their usefulness and were trapped in fairy tales, but the sword was still an important weapon in close combat.
Even after ten years of war, he had never stabbed a person. When she remembered that he was in the Air Force and only flew fighters, she suddenly felt uneasy. She frowned as he smiled strangely.
âBut the Air Force receives that level of training.â
It was an uncharacteristically childish answer. Rosen giggled and wiped her tear-soaked face on the hem of his uniform. He didnât stop her. It occurred to her that it had been a while since he had let her have her own way to this extent.
âYou donât like killing people. Would you have done that for me?â
âI already have a lot of blood on my hands. A few more men wouldnât make a difference. Especially if they deserved to die.â
ââŠItâs okay. I have blood on me, too. At least thatâs what people say. Then itâs no different, is it? If I could go back, I wouldâve killed them all.â
There was a moment of silence. He opened his mouth quietly, trying to determine if what she said was true.
âI didnât lie, did I?â
Rosen laughed triumphantly. He stared at her with a stiff expression.
âActually, whenever I lost strength while escaping from prison, I thought about that moment. To be honest, prisoners are cooler than abused wives, and escapees are cooler than prisoners. As a result, I became very famous.â
ââŠâ
âDid I talk too much? Iâm proud of being an escaped prisoner. I shouldnât have said that to you. But you told me not to lie. I guess this is what I really mean.â
He hugged her so tightly that she couldnât talk any more. The sleeping powder envelope rustled under her dress.
âYou know, this is just a question, but would you have killed Hindley Haworth as well? If you were a soldier patrolling Leoarton.â
Was there anything more empty than a âwhat ifâ question?
But she asked anyway. Meaninglessness could sometimes be comforting.
âIf I could turn back the clock.â
âIf you were by my side back then.â
âIf I made a different choiceâŠâ
He stared at her and was silent for a while.
She giggled and added.
âJust lie. You know the answer I want to hear.â
âKillâŠâ
ââŠâ
âI wouldâve stabbed him with a knife, as you said.â
Rosen stopped laughing.
She was just joking, but his voice was too deep when he responded. He sounded a lot more sincere than when he said he would have shot those men if he was their lieutenant.
An answer that was too heavy for a light question.
No, looking back⊠In fact, she may have been the only one who was joking from the beginning.
Maybe, from the beginningâŠ
There was a deep silence where even the sound of breathing could be heard. She got up from the bed as the gas light flickered out. The moment the room was enveloped in darkness, an answer came back once more.
ââŠI would have really killed him.â
âOh my gosh. Then you would have gone to jail instead of me.â
At that moment, she was overcome with a strange feeling. Her heartbeat grew louder, almost unbearable. She slowly turned away from him.
âRosen. Go to sleep. Itâs late.â
âAre you going to chain me up again when I fall asleep?â
âDonât think about that. Iâll be watching you until dawn.â
Difficult problems were solved like that in an instant.
It was funny, but true.
Answers always come at an unexpected moment. Not when she was going over written formulas and holding her head, but when she was staring blankly at a candleâs flames. The scattered pieces were put together, and she came to realize what the answer was.
Gravity lost its balance.
Victory leaned towards her.
Because he-
âOh, letâs not think about it. Donât even say it out loud. Letâs not express it in words.â
The moment a vague sense became a concrete language and resonated within her, she would not be able to handle it.
There was no need to ask. It was a momentary delusion created by the environment of a prison ship, compassion, atonement, a desperate search for relief, or merely an expression of desire or conquest.
But it didnât matter.
It didnât matter at all.
The important thing was that she had lost her cool.
Ian Kerner started to believe her. He drank the poisoned chalice she gave him. She didnât want to know if that was his choice or if it was forced.
âHow is he looking at me now?â
She suddenly remembered the sleeping powder envelope in her dress. That was the only thing that meant anything to her at this moment.
âOkay.â
âI will not be shaken.â
âHeâs started to believe in me, but I can never trust him.â