Between Your Letter and My Reply

Chapter 5

[Translation By Divinity]

Damian unconsciously tapped his desk with the tip of his fountain pen as he chose his next words. A black ink drop fell onto the desk, and he frowned, wiping it away with his uniform.

The ink was cleaner than the dirt and blood he was constantly covered in anyway. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and began to write.

[In war, a cause is just an excuse. Of course, I believe Lebe’s fight for independence from the Empire is just, so I’m fighting on their side. But that’s just an excuse for someone like me. I have no connection to Lebe, and I wasn’t a career soldier. So no one can blame me if I run away from this war. No one has the right.

However, I believe that those who truly have a cause shouldn’t die here. That’s why I fight in their place. That’s all there is to it.]

Damian had more to say on the matter but stopped there.

It didn’t matter how Lintray interpreted his words. As long as she didn’t see him as a pathetic fool who enlisted because he had nothing better to do, that was enough.

Damian continued writing on a new sheet of paper.

[It’s best if you don’t concern yourself with such matters, Lady. Don’t even think about fighting. War isn’t good for your mental health. I don’t know why you started this pen pal exchange in the first place, but maybe we should stop exchanging these letters…]

Damian stopped writing and tore the page from the letter.

He took out a new sheet and started writing again.

[The causes of war are complex, but up close, it’s just two sides fighting each other. It’s not noble at all. Please don’t think too deeply about this war or fighting, Lady. I hope you remain safe and peaceful in your comfortable place.

August 29th, 1878. Second Lieutenant McCord, wondering if you slept well after receiving my last letter.]

[To Second Lieutenant McCord, who thinks of himself as an idiot.

First of all, I’d like to answer your question, but I won’t. Feel the guilt of possibly causing a lady to lose sleep because of you.

Your advice about Glenn was quite a novel approach. I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about my friendships, even calling yourself an idiot. But don’t worry, Lieutenant; I’m being careful not to cause any gossip with Glenn. I really am. You know how fast rumors spread in this small village. I have to be careful.

As you warned, we’ve never been alone. I always bring a servant with me. But I do agree that men in that age group can be idiots. Glenn… he’s a fun friend, but let’s just say the fun doesn’t come from wholesome activities.]

Damian read on, a victorious smile creeping onto his face for some reason.

[Actually, because I’ve only been hanging out with Glenn, I’ve been missing having female friends lately. You know, there are things you can’t talk about with friends of the opposite sex, right? Glenn is a good friend, but he can’t fill that void. And since my family only consists of my father, it’s a bit awkward when I need an adult woman to talk to. You know what I mean, right? I’m sure you understand, Lieutenant.]

‘Uh…’

Damian’s thoughts momentarily froze. He understood what Lintray meant intellectually, but he couldn’t empathize on an emotional level because he had no friends.

[But maybe because we’re not talking face-to-face, Lieutenant… I find it easier to tell you things I can’t even tell Glenn, even though you’re not a female friend. It’s comforting, and it helps me a lot.

Anyway, guess what? Timo had five puppies today! Timo is my dog, a one-year-old hunting dog. He’s only a hunting dog by breed; he’s never actually been hunting. The puppies are so adorable, even though they haven’t opened their eyes yet! They’ll become even cuter as they grow, right?

Speaking of which, do you prefer dogs or cats, Lieutenant? You’ve probably guessed by now, but I’m a dog person.

Make sure to tell me in your reply, okay?

September 6th, 1878. Lintray, who suddenly has many younger siblings.]

The letter ended there, with no comment on Damian’s explanation of why he fights. But he was relieved. He wasn’t confident he could discuss that topic at length and maintain his composure.

[To Lady Lintray, who understands my nosy worries.

I’m glad you find me as comfortable as a same-sex friend. However, I don’t even have male friends, let alone female ones, so I’m worried about how much I can relate to your words. Please don’t ask why I don’t have friends. I just realized one day that I didn’t. Also, I grew up in an orphanage, so I understand the roles of family members intellectually, but not much beyond that. Please forgive me if we can’t connect on that level.

I also prefer dogs to cats. At least with dogs, I feel like there’s some communication, but I can never tell what cats are thinking. And since we raise military dogs in the barracks, I’m more familiar with them.

Do you have a camera, by any chance? If so, I recommend taking pictures of the puppies every day. Animals’ cute phases pass by quickly. Capturing plenty of photos while they’re at their cutest will be a great memory.

It’s already cold enough in Lebe to need thick outerwear, and I’m worried because the situation on the front lines is getting worse. It’s one thing for a soldier to die from a bullet, but freezing to death would be a real shame. Last year, we had a tough winter due to insufficient supplies. I hope things are better this year.

Please be careful not to catch a cold this autumn.

September 12th, 1878. From the already chilly barracks, Second Lieutenant McCord.]

***

A few days later, Damian returned to the barracks after a battle and frantically searched for an envelope and stationery like a madman.

He looked terrible. His hair was matted with blood and mud, his clothes were torn, and the pungent smell of gunpowder clung to him.

[To Lady Lintray.

Did you only spray perfume on the first letter and not the others?

Please spray perfume on your next letter.

Second Lieutenant McCord.]

It was a very short letter, unlike his previous ones. Damian’s handwriting was messy and crooked, and the ink was smudged in places.

But Damian didn’t bother fixing it. He sent the letter via international express delivery and collapsed onto his bed.

He clutched his chest, sobbing and thrashing.

That day, Damian was the only soldier who returned to the barracks.

***

[To Second Lieutenant McCord, who seems different than usual.

I was quite surprised to receive a separate letter instead of a reply.

Is something wrong? Are you hurt? The express-delivered letter was messy, and the content was different from usual, which worries me. Is that a bloodstain on the corner? To be honest, I’m always worried because you’re on the battlefield. Please take care of yourself and tell me immediately if anything happens.

As for the perfume, I simply forgot. I was also skeptical about how much of the scent would remain during the week-long delivery. But if you liked it, I’ll spray it on the letter paper from now on. I’m sending this one today.

September 21st, 1878. Lintray, who is always worried about you.]

Thanks to Lintray sending her reply via international express delivery, just as Damian had, her letter arrived only five days after he sent his.

Since both letters were exchanged in a hurry, Damian also received the reply to his previous letter on the same day, leaving him with two letters.

With weary eyes, Damian opened the unusually thick express-delivered letter. A neatly folded handkerchief fell out of the envelope.

The handkerchief carried the same scent as the first letter he received.

Damian carefully unfolded it with trembling hands. Although much of the fragrance had faded during delivery, leaving only a lingering scent, it was enough.

The peony scent, which Damian had only thought of as a comforting fragrance because he didn’t know its specific name, embraced him.

It momentarily allowed him to forget the acrid smell of gunpowder that permeated the battlefield. It seemed to ease his tense and sharp emotions.

Damian held the handkerchief to his nose and took several deep breaths.