20
This is the battlefield. It was a time when the slow-moving guerrilla fighting dragged on.
A few days before the year ended, everyone seemed excited. Rumors were spreading that the war might end once the new year came. Snowflakes fluttered in the sky.
Benjamin, who stood beside him, took a photo from his chest pocket and showed it to him. It was a picture of Benjamin's wife Elizabeth and their daughter together.
"Marisa is already four years old, Chester. Isn't she really pretty?"
"Yeah. She's really cute."
It was a photo Benjamin had shown him many times already. He treasured it so carefully that, apart from the slightest wear at the corner, the photo was spotless.
At that moment something flew from the quiet side. It was a shell.
Chester watched the shell fly to the rear, then, hit by a tremendous pressure and blast of dust, he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face. That shell was only the start, instead of snow, shells began to fall from the sky.
It was strange. People who had been alive a moment ago lost their breath in an instant and died before his eyes.
"Benjamin!"
Benjamin was bleeding, a fragment of a shell must have lodged in his flank.
Chester hoisted Benjamin over his shoulder. When Benjamin coughed, a clump of blood burst out. Blood streamed relentlessly from the wound where the fragment had embedded his side.
The scene changed soon after.
As usual, he pulled the trigger on the enemy, and Chester vividly watched the opponent expire. Such a young face… so fresh…
"Come to your senses!"
"Chester! Chester Coleman!"
Someone unbuttoned his coat and called his name.
What had happened to Benjamin after that… the young soldier on the enemy side…
"Stay with us! Can you hear me?"
That voice squeezed his cold hands and felt his legs, stiff as boards.
"Breathe! Mr. Coleman!"
A little girl came into his blurred vision. A child on the battlefield… Could there really be a child here? In his fading mind he faintly heard the determined voice of the girl.
Chester gripped the girl's arm tightly.
"Chester! Can you see me? Don't pass out. We'll take you straight to the hospital, okay?"
Hospital? He was tired of hospitals…
"You still have to go! Just hang on a bit."
Take me home, let me go home. I want to…
"You fell and hit your head and are bleeding. You need stitches!"
Fell? Bleeding?
With that thought, Chester lost consciousness.
***
Chester opened his eyes wide. An aid station? No, it didn't feel like that. It was too white and clean. And quiet.
His throat felt raw and burning.
Someone who had been quietly watching him sprang up and spoke. It was his young caregiver, Nellie McKay.
"Mr. Coleman! Are you awake?"
"Gah… ugh…"
"Ah. Please, drink some water first."
After taking a sip, Chester slowly came back to his senses. He blinked blankly and looked around.
"Miss McKay…"
"Yes, Mr. Coleman! You're at Central Hospital. I'll go call the doctor!"
"Wait…"
Chester caught the edge of Nellie's sleeve just as she turned to leave.
"Yes?"
"Just… stay a little while."
Nellie looked down at his hand gripping her sleeve tightly, then quietly sat back down in her chair.
"All right. I'll stay. Anyway, I'm so glad you're awake, Mr. Coleman."
Her face clearly showed deep worry, she had been truly concerned for him.
It had been so long since he'd seen that kind of expression directed toward him, someone honestly worrying about him.
"How long… was I out?"
"Two hours. They stitched up your forehead while you were unconscious. Mrs. James will be here soon."
Chester tried to frown, but the stitches on his forehead tugged painfully, and he stopped.
"I must've worried everyone for nothing."
"Of course we had to call Mrs. James. You fainted, Mr. Coleman…"
"No, not that. I meant you, Miss McKay. You must've been startled. I'm sorry I made you worry. I must have had another panic episode…"
"……"
"I'm sorry."
The words barely made it out of his throat, but once spoken, they came tumbling out.
Every time this happened, Chester loathed himself, hated that he couldn't endure it, hated his weakness.
If it was going to be like this, he thought, he might as well have died on the battlefield.
Why had he survived so stubbornly, only to live hating himself this way?
It felt like falling endlessly into a pit.
Every time, the panic, the collapse, waking up in a hospital, going through countless tests, only to find no cause before being sent home again, the whole process had become tedious, hollow, and disgusting.
"I'm truly sorry. Even now…"
He couldn't even look up.
If he already found himself revolting, how much worse must he seem to this young caregiver?
Chester didn't realize his voice was trembling, that tears were pressing at the edge of his words.
"If you wish to quit now, Miss McKay, I'll make sure you won't suffer any loss."
A sigh escaped above his bowed head.
Of course she was disappointed, she'd realized what kind of miserable man he truly was.
"Mr. Coleman."
Nellie's voice came, steady and firm.
"Look at me."
Chester slowly lifted his head to meet her eyes.
Nellie took both of his hands, scraped and speckled with dried blood, and clasped them tightly.
The young caregiver's hands were warm.
Her warmth seeped into his cold ones.
"Where do you think you're going to go when this neighborhood pays the best weekly wage? Stop trying to fire me! Why are you always so extreme about everything?"
"……"
"I'm not quitting until I open my café overlooking the Newdane Harbor. Got it? You're stuck with me now, Mr. Coleman. No matter how many times you kick me out, I'll just come crawling back like a zombie!"
"Like a zombie…"
Chester mumbled blankly.
"Yes! Don't tell me you don't know what a zombie is. Fine, I'll make sure you find out this time, because I'm going to suck you dry to the bone!"
At her exaggerated threat to "suck him dry to the bone," Chester couldn't help but let out a strange, broken laugh.
He didn't even have the strength to lift a finger, but somehow, the sound escaped him anyway.
And as he watched Nellie huff and puff in mock outrage, everything in front of him suddenly felt absurdly funny.
"You think this is funny, Mr. Coleman? Really? And that's how you laugh? No, you have to laugh properly! Ha, ha, ha! Come on, follow me. Ha, ha, ha!"
"Ha, ha, ha!"
Chester obediently echoed her laughter, like a well-trained soldier following a drill instructor's lead.
Just then, Mrs. James entered the hospital room.
"Ches. Are you all right, dear?"
She looked at him worriedly.
From her expression, it was clear she was wondering if he'd lost his mind after hitting his head, since it had been ages since he'd laughed out loud like that, not once since the war ended.
Chester, still smiling faintly, replied.
"I'm fine, Aunt."
"I heard you hit your head?"
"Yes, he just woke up a little while ago, Mrs. James."
"Oh, Miss McKay. Thank you so much. I'll make sure you're properly compensated for this."
Mrs. James extended her elegant hand toward the young woman.
Nellie took it with a polite smile.
"Thank you. Please, go ahead and talk with Mr. Coleman. I'll let the doctor know he's awake."
After waiting some time outside the hospital room, Nellie saw Mrs. James come out.
"Miss McKay."
"Yes, Mrs. James. You're leaving already?"
"I can't be away from my duties for long. Please continue to look after Ches for me. And… thank you, for taking care of him."
"It's my pleasure, really."
After all, it was the best-paying job in town.
At that rate, anyone would have said yes, Nellie thought casually.
"Ches's face looks healthier today, and he even has more expression than before. It must be thanks to your attentive care, Miss McKay."
"You're too kind."
"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to tell me. And for this week, I'll include a bonus with your pay, so please keep that in mind. I'll be going now."
Mrs. James gave a graceful nod and walked down the corridor.
Nellie bowed slightly, then muttered to herself.
"I wonder how big the bonus will be…"
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