IPTYFM

CHAPTER LXXV-76

⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭
IPTYFM
⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭

‘But dreams can be like that, can’t they? There’s nothing impossible in dreams.’

However, there was something impossible in that dream. How could I explain that it was only when Johann and I locked eyes that my body, which had refused to listen to me until then, moved on its own?

My body still wasn’t listening to me. I had no intention of moving, but it moved as if following a script.

‘So… it was as if I was retracing a set memory.’

That again led me to believe that this was not a dream but a memory, that Dana really existed.

It’s driving me crazy. No, it feels like I am crazy. Maybe I’m hallucinating all this.

‘But what if it’s not a hallucination?’

I suddenly realized I shouldn’t be confusing myself alone. Someone who knows the answers is right beside me. Yes, rather than becoming a madwoman who confuses dreams with reality, I should ask and end this torment forever.

‘Johann, does Dana really exist? What exactly is your relationship with her…?’

“I haven’t been able to forget Dana.”

But if asking that means starting an eternal agony…

I’d rather believe I’m crazy.

* * *

Spring has returned, with hyacinths bursting into bloom. Yet, the spring of my heart is still far off.

The end of the war is still nowhere in sight. The government has yet to reclaim the capital and remains hidden in the bunker in Eisenthal. Meanwhile, the hearts of the locals here are as devastated as the trampled homeland.

The belief from last fall that things would improve by this autumn was betrayed by the introduction of rationing. Still, after a harsh winter, we harbored hope again that life would improve with the coming spring, but empty warehouses don’t magically refill with the start of spring.

Perhaps we have stepped into the coldest spring of our lives.

Spring has become a scarier season than winter because of the war’s prospects. In the fierce cold of winter, at least, both sides are somewhat restrained, preventing major movements on the frontlines.

Ironically, winter was the safest time for us. Even if we died of hunger or cold in the rear, at least we wouldn’t die a horrific death at the hands of the enemy.

But as winter drew to a close, worry spread like a plague among those who had heard news from soldiers in the bunker or families at the front.

“It seems a command has been issued to start the operation to reclaim the capital.”

Women whispered in the cargo area of a truck headed to the bunker. The engine noise was loud enough that it wouldn’t reach the driving compartment filled with soldiers, but they instinctively lowered their voices and glanced nervously in that direction.

“It would be great if they could reclaim the capital quickly and we could leave this place.”

Such thoughts weren’t pleasing to hear for those who might overhear.

“Before the devils from Falkland find this place first.”

The military operations delayed by winter were about to begin. In other words, the enemies, too, were about to initiate operations to discover the hiding place of our government and high command.