She said she loved him, and she meant every word—even in every single moment she would remind him. It was a love without rhyme or reason, without secrets, without limit, without whims.
The three words didn't always come out of her lips like gales and tsunamis and thunder; sometimes, they were spoken with the ease and calm of a breeze—and regardless of how they were spoken, they were always followed by a giggle, a coda to the declaration continuously resounding even after she left.
It was as pure as it was terrifying, like the wildest storms.
So were her actions.
She might look out of place among her comrades, but she's still a KANSEN. She was no less a force of nature than the rest of them.
But everything she did, she devoted to him.
Yet she didn't push for an answer, a confirmation of reciprocation. It wasn't like she assumed he would or already did, either. But fragile she was not; waiting for that one answer that wasn't a smile or a nod didn't seem to agonize her—if she was even waiting at all.
But it did pain him.
Her words and deeds always had a certain weight to them, and in time, they began to bear down on him, bringing dread and urgency.
"Stop this, Blücher."
That voice was unmistakably Hipper's. He stepped back, waiting.
"C'mon, Hipper! There's nothing wrong with admitting you're in love!"
"You are going to hurt yourself one of these days, idiot! This is too much!"
"Geez, don't be so stiff, Hipper!"
"And you don't be so absurd yourself! You're chasing someone who clearly doesn't—"
"Hipper, you meanie! Don't say that!"
"He doesn't feel the same, Blücher!"
"Maybe! But that doesn't matter! As long as he's not lonely, it's okay!"
"Blücher!"
By the sound of Hipper's voice and the spirited footfalls, Blücher must've stormed away.
"...Idiot."
Never had the ever-proud Hipper sounded so resigned and defeated.
"If she got hurt by this...I swear..."
She didn't see him, he was sure. But for a time, he thought she did, and he could feel it. The threat, the warning.
And he knew to whom it was for.
Harsh and distant as she might be, and despite the fact they didn't always have the best relationship, Hipper will always be her sisters' keeper.
She will make good on that threat.
He couldn't afford to stay longer.
Still a coward.
The irony of his indecisiveness was not lost on him.
In his position, he had to lead, to command, to decide—often on matters that tread the boundaries of life and death.
Was this problem too trivial to be given the same urgency and due attention?
Wouldn't that thinking be too cruel?
No, he could feel it. The walls were closing in.
For both of them.
The more he delayed, the more likely their chains would soon strangle, crush, and bleed them out.
The sooner she would become a martyr for that love.
She was looking at him from across the room, smiling like always. Nothing that came before or since had been any different.
"Can I come closer?"
"Yes."
And brighter she smiled as she walked through that open door, hands behind her back.
"I want to give you these! Your favorites, since you seemed really tired and down and all these past days. You've been working hard for us all, so here's something from me to you!"
He didn't need to guess what was in the box, judging from the scent. And it was indeed his favorite, something that he thought he no longer had the luxury of having.
But for her to know...
Perhaps he told her in passing before.
Or maybe someone else did.
Whatever the case, she made an effort to remember, to find out.
Her smile ebbed just a bit as he continued to stare into the lid.
"Commander, you've been looking really, really sad lately. I hope this will cheer you up, too."
The care. The love. The concern.
Still here.
"I wish you would share your troubles with me, Commander. But I understand if you don't want to..."
Still here.
"But I'm here for you, always!"
Still here.
Things shouldn't go on like this.
They can't.
All give and no take.
It wasn't right.
"Blücher."
"Yes, Commander?"
"...Thank you for everything you've done for me. But it's time I give back something, at least. Is there...something...I can do for you?"
"Oh? Wow, I'm glad you asked, but that's not necessary, Commander! You're busy enough as it is. And besides, seeing you smile is enough."
No, it isn't.
"Please."
He wasn't quite sure what to feel over his own offer. There was relief, for now he could at least give back something for certain.
But there was also fear.
Fear that she would ask for a lie, a farce.
Mercifully, she was oblivious, and her request was simple, without all the second-guessing.
"Then...can we go to town together? When you're free? I still want to know more about you, Commander, so I could love you more!"
The request was as mundane as the weather, yet the implications were profound.
And he wasn't about to be non-committal now.
"I'll make time for you. Does tonight work?"
"Yeah! Tonight, then! Thank you, Commander!"
"Meet me at six at the gates, Blücher."
"Yes! I'll be there! I love you, Commander!"
Like a light shining in the dark she beamed.
With a twirl, she left, almost bouncing, like she had springs on her feet, and the humming that echoed down the corridor stuck with him like a spell.
And for once, he found himself smiling.
I still want to know more about you, Commander.
He leaned back, thinking of the words that refused to be forgotten.
So I could love you more.
Everything felt a little clearer, less daunting.
He could begin to understand, tonight.
Perhaps if he takes that first step to know her better, too, the rest will fall into place.
That the answer will begin to speak for itself.
He could only hope it wouldn't be too late.
She was punctual, and somehow, that was more reassuring than it should've been.
Her radiant smile, a sharp contrast to her pastel dress, was more welcoming than it should've been.
And he realized he wasn't as scared as he should've been.
"Wah! Commander! You look amazing! Like a prince!"
But that was more embarrassing than it should've been.
Still, that was just like her.
"Thank you, Blücher. You look lovely, too."
The ease with which the words were spoken, how they slipped out so casually, should've been surprising.
But it wasn't.
"Aw! Commander, thank you! Hipper and Eugen helped me get ready, hehe! You...really think I'm pretty?"
"Yes, you are."
He couldn't say it the way she would've, but it didn't seem to matter to her; then he realized another thing.
He answered. And he meant everything he said.
It was a start.
"Gosh, Commander, I'm so, so. so happy!"
He could tell she was holding back. She would probably jump about or dance or sing, or all of them and more, if she wasn't being thoughtful of his presence. The restraint, rare and unneeded, will not go unappreciated.
"Shall we go, then?"
The hand he extended was another step forward, and when she took it, a surge of warmth and courage rushed through him.
Her hand was small but not delicate. Her hold was as sure as an anchor, and perhaps, just like one, it would hold him steady.
"Mm! Let's!"
The town had recovered well, or at least the promenade was. Whatever the case, people were eager to start moving forward again, and the lights once more shone with life.
Yet she was the brightest, still.
At some point she had stopped holding his hand, instead looping her arm around his, her gaze meandering between the storefronts and the harbor and him.
Neither had the night planned, instead letting their whims take them wherever. A simple dinner there, watching a performance here. A cup of coffee here, an ice cream there.
There were talks interspersed through it all before a dash for another view, another something to do.
She was a bubbly chatterbox, and he was content with listening, only answering when she asked something. Tonight's more about her, anyway.
He took in everything she said, all her stories, her tastes, her likes and dislikes. He learned that she preferred heaps of sugar to her coffee, much to Hipper's disgust, and that she had taken up baking, too. Learned that she, surprisingly, loved classical music and how she wished she could play an instrument. Learned that she liked the cold but hated being wet. Learned how she could laugh over failures big and small and how she cherished everyone she met along the way. All that, and more, stories of a lifetime told in a single evening.
She asked, too, and he answered, each answer reminding him of himself. Things that he had forgotten in the midst of the conflict and things he had taken for granted.
It was a wonderful feeling, to be able to remember them all.
She made it easy. Too easy. A nudge of her finger tore the walls down. She was no less a listener than she was a talker, perhaps even better.
But still, she didn't ask that one question, the one he was determined to find an answer for.
Before the night ends.
Before their lives end.
"Ooh, look, Commander! There's a dance at the hall!"
She didn't need to speak any more than that, and she didn't either. He understood, and she knew he did.
"Shall we, then?"
"Oh! Yes! I always wanted to!"
She didn't need to say the last part either.
The pink dusting her cheeks and the shy, expectant gaze, the errant beat of his heart, and the warmth coursing through his veins—he wouldn't forget them in a long while.
Who was leading who, really? He couldn't tell. She made sure he wouldn't care either, as long as they moved, turned, and swayed as one, the crowd growing blurry the more they did.
He had danced before, but they were formalities and obligations, and he had forgotten the faces of his partners. Their names, their purpose of being there.
But Blücher will not be forgotten.
"Heehee! This is the best, Commander! You're the best! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
She could probably sport that smile forever.
At least, it would never leave his mind.
"No, thank you, Blücher. For tonight. For everything you've done."
"Aww! It's nothing, Commander! I love you, after all!"
Another turn, and then another, and another. It felt like forever.
"No, it's not nothing."
Her breath hitched—or maybe he was imagining it—when he held tighter. Then her eyes weren't on him anymore.
"But why is that, Blücher? Why do you love me so much?"
The silence went on, but they didn't pause, and he wasn't about to push.
"Because...you are you, Commander."
The answer wasn't one given to satisfy or avoid the question. The same weight of honesty was still there, a heartfelt answer to a heartfelt question.
The song was coming to an end. Maybe they will move on to another, or maybe that will be the end. Regardless, the truth will come to the surface, sooner or later.
"Even if...I'm not the man you think I am?"
But really, what was the difference? Her love wasn't born of reason. It was, in a way, a madness only she could make sense of—and she most likely wouldn't want to.
"Commander, I don't know everything about you, but I can tell you're a good, kind person. Would you treat us like humans otherwise? Would you do your best to keep us safe otherwise? Would you let me stay like this and not drive me away otherwise?"
Never did her voice crack or break, her smile profound and clear.
And he still didn't let go, even if he couldn't meet her eyes.
"That could be anyone. There are plenty of other commanders. Good ones, even."
"Yes, but you're the one I met. The one I love. Nothing's gonna change that. I'll keep being there for you and keep you from getting sad and lonely because you're worth it. And if one day you'll say the same, I'll be the happiest girl on earth! But if not, it's okay! As long as I can see you smile, it's okay!"
The overbearing innocence. The purity of devotion. The strength of conviction.
All of it was hers, for his sake.
He felt something wet.
"Even if I couldn't—"
The question caught in his throat, and he couldn't push it out, couldn't bring himself to finish. He tried again, but he couldn't even start.
And again.
And again.
Every attempt hurt.
The thought of not being able to love back hurt.
The thought of letting go hurt.
But why now, after all this time?
Why only now?
Or perhaps he had known all along.
The epiphany wasn't an explosion, a grand revelation.
It was gentle, and it was slow, but he could feel it.
It was no longer a question of "if."
Maybe it was never that, to begin with.
The music didn't restart, and the crowd was dispersing. Yet she wasn't going anywhere, patient like a saint.
"Commander? Is something wrong?"
Nothing was wrong. He felt the exact opposite.
"Nothing. Just...how, Blücher? How would you like to be...loved?"
Surer than he thought he would be, it came out. The question that should've come before.
The question of "how."
"Ehh...?! Co-Commander?!"
"Tell me, Blücher. How could I make it right to you."
She breathed, and breathed, and looked up.
"Ca-can we hug?"
He was the first to draw her in, and their warmth soon mingled.
"Commander...Commander!"
The tears were a little harder to ignore.
"...Then...then..sa-say...you love me. Just say it, don't think about it, Commander. Even if it's just once."
Don't think.
It was always a matter of the heart anyway.
And the heart always knew better than the mind.
"I love you, Blücher."
He could feel her tremble in their embrace, her fingers clutching his sleeves. Her legs, and his, eventually shook, and the only reason they were still standing was because they had each other for support. At least, he wanted to believe so.
"If...it's okay...one more time?"
"I love you, Blücher. My dear Blücher."
Again, and again, to make up for the lost times, the missed chances.
"I love you."
The trembling grew stronger.
"So-sorry. I...I'm just so happy, Commander; oh, we will be together, always! And...and..."
She pulled back, and he let go without regret.
"And...I love you, too."
It wasn't the first time, but it felt like it was.
At least, he never felt so fulfilled hearing it before.
Never so alive.
Now he could understand a little better—the why, the what, the how, the everything.
It was alright, knowing only a little. It was enough for another step.
Not a tentative, calculative step.
A stride.
And she will be there.
"Um, so...do you want to head back, Commander? It's late, isn't it?"
He didn't need to check his watch to find out.
"Yeah. Let's go."
Just like before, she had her arm around his as they walked out, to the amusement of the onlookers. The feeling wasn't quite the same now, though. There was a certain relief, a greater sense of familiarity.
"I almost forgot," she said out of the blue. "There's one more answer to your question, Commander."
"Hm...?"
"Sorry, but..."
"Wha—"
She tugged a bit, and before he could recover, she planted a light peck on his cheek.
"You could return the favor anytime, hehe."
"That so?"
He decided that "anytime" could also mean "now."
"Awawawawa!"
"There, I returned the favor."
"Uuu, Commander, that tickles. But I like it!"
"You like it? I'll give you another. Next time."
"Aww...but okay! Take your time, Commander!"
He appreciated that understanding. He still had a long way to go to find out how to make things work.
But it was getting easier. A beacon, sometimes ahead, sometimes by his side, and at times, right behind, will show the way.
Maybe they could even do more than just walk the road.
Maybe they could even fly—together to the end of their days.
