TMBE 03

CHAPTER 03

Although she had once said things like, “Why would I do laundry?”, Chloe Libertà ended up having her identity exposed to the enemy within just a few days. In this base, she was mainly responsible for miscellaneous tasks.

Chloe believed that work should be done by professionals. Every field had its experts, and the best results came only when they were given the right environment to focus on their craft. All she did was her best to ensure that medical staff and retired soldiers could concentrate on their duties.

Alvin, meanwhile, remained consistently relaxed and contemplative inside the base. Yet he did not seem close to anyone there. That was expected among Edelrin soldiers—but it also appeared to be the case with the Pitzmark soldiers.

His only daily routine seemed to be staring out the window, lost in thought. In those moments, Chloe—who was hanging laundry outside—often found her eyes meeting his. She would glance away as if she had not noticed him at all.

But after this happened several times, Chloe finally grew irritated enough to speak.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Why are you staring like that? If you have something to say, just say it.”

Alvin gave a small laugh.

“Didn’t you say you don’t do laundry?”

“……”

“I think I’ve seen you do it three times already.”

The count was disturbingly accurate. Laundry was not something to be embarrassed about, but Chloe still felt slightly flustered.

It was a well-known fact that many artists were eccentric. Chloe did not have a particularly wide social circle, but she had heard such rumors.

For instance, there were people so obsessively clean they practically needed to go to a hospital—and others so filthy they might as well have become one with garbage.

Chloe fell somewhere in between, though when she worked, she shifted about one or two… maybe four centimeters closer to the latter. It simply meant her sense of hygiene was not pathologically perfect. The reason she was so meticulous at the base was because she knew infection could be fatal to patients.

“Then what am I supposed to do? Less than half the people here still have both arms and legs intact.”

“……”

“Fortunately, I haven’t lost my humanity to that extent yet.”

But an even more embarrassing situation was unfolding before her now.

Chloe held onto the pole supporting the laundry line and stared at Alvin. He, in turn, was looking back at her. The fact that she had failed to account for his bed’s position was entirely her mistake.

After swaying several times, Chloe finally sent a silent distress signal.

“What are you doing?”

“What.”

“You know what.”

“So what.”

“Are you really just going to keep watching? This is about to fall over.”

The pole, weighed down with several sheets, was swaying dangerously. But Alvin did not come immediately and instead responded with another question.

“Why should I?”

“Have you never heard that whoever you make eye contact with is supposed to help?”

Sighing, he finally climbed over the window frame. The bandage on his right hand had already been removed, but his side wound still seemed painful; he paused briefly and frowned.

Walking slowly over, Alvin looked down at Chloe.

“So now you’re making a patient do all sorts of things. Don’t you think the treatment is a bit harsh?”

“…You’re almost healed anyway.”

Chloe muttered, slightly guilty at the sight of him holding his side, and he shrugged.

“So this is actually a labor camp? Are we prisoners or something?”

“……”

Chloe didn’t think his words sounded entirely like a joke. Not because of him—but because she couldn’t fully deny it. She simply stared at him while holding the pole. Her sky-colored eyes were clear, calm, and faintly cold.

“This is Edelrin territory. And it’s wartime.”

“……”

“Of course, we’re still treating Pitzmark soldiers who would otherwise die without immediate care.”

Perhaps this is humane. It might even be goodwill.

“But that doesn’t mean… everyone is treated exactly the same.”

That would be a lie.

I don’t want reality to become endlessly cruel, but I also can’t agree with naive idealism.

This place is strange.

Alvin simply listened to her without interruption.

The front line, as always, burned under a blazing sun. Shelling had stripped life even from plants. Yet inside the base, a few trees still remained. Perhaps unrelated, a weak breeze passed through, brushing both their hair.

Alvin’s eyes briefly looked as if he might smile—but instead, he pointed.

“Then go ask your side for help.”

“……”

“They’re right over there.”

Chloe turned to look. Retired soldiers were patrolling the fence, walking back and forth as guards.

After a brief pause, she seemed to think it over. Then she turned back to Alvin, who was still watching her.

“Let’s just call it basic human decency.”

“Good idea.”

Alvin gave a small nod and took the pole from her. Without much effort, he drove it firmly into the ground.

He kicked dirt around its base and slowly walked back toward his bed, while Chloe remained standing there for a while.

Chloe Libertà had a good memory and tended to revisit things she had once noticed. However, she was not particularly interested in other people.

She thought for long periods of time, but she did not always explain those thoughts to others.

Sometimes she was sensitive and meticulous; at other times, she acted as though nothing mattered at all. She would even brush off situations with light, meaningless jokes.

Some people found her amusing. Others saw shadows in her. Some thought she was exhausted and hollow; others said she was passionate.

Why do such strange, distorted people exist in the world?

In truth, it was nothing more than occupational habit. Just like Julia, who sang on stage and preferred to speak little in daily life, keeping her voice as small as possible.

Chloe’s friend cut away everything she deemed unnecessary in order to pour herself fully into a single performance.

If she could direct that same intensity and observation toward ten thousand people, the world she wrote might have been far richer. Perhaps she would have had more people around her too. Instead of monotonous keys, she might have played full harmonies.

But Chloe knew she did not possess such innate talent.

The world sometimes became too loud when she tried to listen to everyone. She was too small to hold all voices in her mind. So when she lacked energy, she simply cut away parts of her emotional perception.

Perhaps this was a shield that prevented the playwright Chloe from overstepping into the domain of Chloe the human being.

There were so many extraordinary people in the world that someone had already reduced this complicated process into something simple: “selection and focus.” The adult world became increasingly monotonous in that way.

And yet, Chloe realized recently that she had become somewhat curious about Alvin. Was it because their first encounter had been too intense? She did not know. But she felt a strange impression from the quiet man.

After replaying the events of the day in her mind for a while, she shook her head and opened a drawer.

What she took out was a letter received that morning. The sender was Julia, her friend with a voice like a nightingale. The handwriting at the beginning was almost cute.

Chloe. It’s me. You’re doing well, right? I believe you are.

Nothing special is happening here.

People are still anxious because the war is dragging on and we can’t see the front line situation, but it’s relatively peaceful.

……

Oh, right. I wrote because I have something to tell you.

Benjamin started dating someone recently? That girl who kept following him around, you know?

I didn’t think it would work out, but it seems they actually got together.

Chloe muttered gloomily,

“What is this. The scent of a tragic ending from the very beginning.”

Benjamin had always been popular. A refined poet who only wrote love poetry had a certain appeal to women. And he also came from a wealthy family.

But Benjamin is actually quite cold and distant, right?

It seems that girl got upset about something and broke up with him in a fit of anger.

She probably didn’t understand his personality well enough.

Do you think he’s the type to even blink at that? He just said “okay” and ended it.

Reading again, it turned out to be an unexpected happy ending. After her own breakup, Chloe had been preparing to lead the “single faction.” For the first time in a while, she could focus on the text.

But I’m not sure what will happen because that girl is still clinging to him.

Andrea and I are watching it with great interest.

“Wow. So it’s an open ending. Julia, you’d get criticized for this kind of ending in theater.”

Shaking her head, Chloe continued reading.

Chloe, listen. I really don’t want to say this, but…

Unless it’s unavoidable, please reply to Andrea.

He was really upset that you didn’t answer his last letter.

I don’t want to see a man cry just because he didn’t get a reply.

Chloe frowned and let out an awkward laugh.

“Is he going through menopause or something? Crying over that? No news is good news.”

And Chloe. Honestly, I think you’re going too far too.

We have a playwright as a friend, and yet why are you so stingy with words?

You must reply this time. I’ll be waiting.

— Julia, who sings best among your friends.

It was obvious that Julia sang best among Chloe’s friends because she was the only opera singer in their group of three. Chloe gave a small laugh but did not put the letter down for a while.

She wasn’t trying to conserve words like Julia said.

“Julia, I’ve heard that the longer you think, the shorter your sentences become.”

But silently smiling, she tore two sheets of paper and opened the ink bottle.