“Hello!”
Anne hurriedly moved the finished soup to a small pot to keep it warm. She and her friends, Bruno and Leo, rushed to Hilde Grandma’s house and knocked on the thick oak door.
“Hilde Grandma, it’s Anne! Is anyone there? Please open the door!”
“Anne. It seems to be open.”
Bruno, with a quiet voice, pointed out the obvious to Anne, who was starting to panic at the thought of no one answering the door. A house that was usually locked being open meant they had an unexpected guest.
When the three finally reached the cozy yet neatly arranged bedroom after navigating through the narrow hallway, they discovered who had arrived before them.
“Doctor Heino…”
Sitting beside the lying Hilde was the town’s novice doctor. Heino, with his drooping eyes giving him a benevolent appearance, was a young man often underestimated by both patients and fellow doctors due to his youth and kind nature.
Seeing him in a rare high-quality shirt today likely meant he had planned a date on his day off, only to have Hilde Grandma’s case thrust upon him by another doctor. Caring for an elderly woman in the slums meant a high chance of medical fees being unpaid, which seemed to concern Heino greatly, as his face looked weary.
With tousled hair and a sluggish movement, he finally noticed the visitors. His eyes widened in surprise.
“You came…!”
Relief washed over his face, heavily marked by dark circles. He stood up unsteadily, stretched his arms wrapped in a worn-out shirt, and embraced the three tightly.
“Thank goodness…! Hilde Grandma has no relatives and barely interacts with neighbors. No one came to visit, and I couldn’t leave her alone. I feared it was the end…”
“No way…”
Anne and her friends tensed up, troubled not just by the lack of visitors but also by Heino’s ominous word, “the end.” In the town of Weitz, the end meant death. When someone died, a priest was summoned to apply “final anointing oil” to the lips, ensuring the soul smoothly departed the body. Without this, the soul would remain trapped, leading to darkness.
Heino’s urgency stemmed from the fear that he wouldn’t make it back in time for the ritual, indicating how close Hilde was to death.
“Sorry, but I have to go to the church! Can you look after her for a bit? Talk to her a lot!”
With that, Heino swiftly left the room. Anne, Bruno, and Leo stood in shock, then timidly turned their gaze to the lying Hilde.
“No way… Grandma Hilde…”
Anne’s voice trembled as she whispered. Hilde, now a bedridden patient, lay there with a gentle expression, eyes closed peacefully. Though bandages wrapped painfully around her head, she appeared merely asleep. Anne had thought she was just in a deep sleep, lacking the energy to wake up, believing a trigger could rouse her. But now, realizing death was imminent, the truth hit hard.
“No, this can’t be…”
Her hands, gripping the pot’s handle, began to tremble. Just as tears were about to spill, Leo raised his voice.
“Don’t give up, Anne!”
“But, Brother Leo…”
“Don’t ‘but’ me. Look, her face isn’t pale, and she’s breathing. Her skin is warm. She’s still alive!”
Leo lifted Hilde’s frail arm, demonstrating.
“Even if she’s unconscious, if we call out desperately, she’ll wake up. Right?”
“No, Leo—”
Bruno, frowning, started to speak, but Leo quickly silenced him with a glance. Leo didn’t like giving false hope, but he knew that without it, Anne would break down and leave, only to torment herself later with what-ifs. Even if accused of being irresponsible, he wanted Anne to try everything possible.
Seeing Bruno’s unreadable expression, Leo brightly smiled at Anne.
“First, let’s showcase that soup you worked hard on.”
“…Okay.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Anne nodded slightly, suppressing her emotions. She placed the small pot on a shelf beside the bed, carefully removing the lid. The steam wafted up gently as she transferred the soup into a small dish, then scooped some with a spoon, slowly bringing it to Hilde’s mouth.
“Grandma Hilde, it’s soup.”
However, just before the spoon touched Hilde’s lips, Leo grabbed Anne’s arm.
“Wait a sec, Anne. Why are you giving her that big chunk of carrot?”
“Well, Grandma Hilde likes carrots.”
“Right… but she’s sleeping now, right?”
You can’t feed solid food to an unconscious person! She’ll choke! Leo refrained from shouting, seeing Anne’s serious face. Instead, he suggested, “Maybe try letting her smell it first or talk about the soup near her ear?”
“But Grandma Hilde likes to eat her favorite food first.”
Leo’s attempt at a gentle warning was brushed off as Anne, still serious, tried to pry open Hilde’s mouth with the spoon.
“Hey, Grandma Hilde, it’s a carrot!”
“Stop it, Anne!”
“Or maybe she’d like the soup first.”
“No, don’t pour the soup into her mouth!”
Seeing Anne about to tilt the soup dish towards Hilde’s mouth, Leo took it away.
“What are you doing, Brother Leo?”
“Look, Anne…”
It was frightening how Anne’s intentions were purely kind. Leo initially thought of just letting Hilde smell the soup or wetting her lips with a spoon. He hadn’t expected Anne to try feeding her the solid chunks directly. Despite being responsible, Anne didn’t fully grasp the severity of unconsciousness or approaching death.
“Why can’t I feed her?” Anne asked, puzzled. Leo sighed, struggling to find the words.
“Anne.”
Bruno, who had remained silent, finally spoke. He knelt slightly to meet Anne’s eyes and spoke slowly.
“Stimulating touch to wake someone has its logic. Like splashing water on someone who’s fainted. But listen, humans sometimes respond better to other senses.”
“Other senses?”
Anne’s eyes widened, and Bruno nodded calmly.
“Yes. Hearing. When someone faints, they lose their balance, then sight, and touch, but they can still hear. Sounds and voices are the last to go.”
“What about smell?”
“I don’t know. But enemies didn’t seem to notice smells when they fainted.”
“What are you two talking about?” Leo grumbled, half-jokingly.
Even if Leo tried to ignore their grim conversation, his natural kindness made him pick up on their every word.
“And Bruno, your stories always have unnecessary bloodshed!”
“Do they?”
Ignoring Leo’s protests, Bruno continued, explaining how the last sense to go is hearing.
***
“What the…!”
After delivering a sharp, final retort, Bruno turned to Anne with a sigh.
“Anne, you can ignore what he says. Just focus on—”
“I got it, Brother Bruno! I’ll try to approach Grandma Hilde through sound!”
“Seriously?”
Leo was dumbfounded as he witnessed his younger sister move in a reasonable direction under Bruno’s guidance.
“Well, I guess if it works, it’s fine… Whatever,” Leo muttered to himself, while Anne moved her face close to Hilde’s ear and began to speak seriously.
“Wow, what a delicious-looking soup! I’ll scoop it with a spoon and… Oh, can you see this gently rising white steam? The soup is clear, but it feels like the essence of vegetables and chicken is tightly condensed. I’ll take a sip… Huff, huff… Mmm! The sweetness of the melted vegetables spreads throughout my mouth!”
“Why are you talking like a gourmet reporter?!”
Unable to resist, Leo interjected, and Anne replied earnestly, “Because I thought it would be easier to convey the deliciousness and get a reaction if it felt more real.”
“Ah… Well, that’s true, but, Anne…”
Leo couldn’t retort seriously, knowing she was earnest despite the apparent absurdity. While he stared into the distance, Bruno placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder.
“Anne, you’re mistaken. Nowadays, the trend is not to shout loudly but to whisper softly.”
“Really?”
Bruno nodded gravely, then knelt by the bed and whispered into Hilde’s ear.
“This soup is perfect… This is how it should be. When you drink soup, you should be undisturbed, free, and… saved.”
“Your report is too lonely!”
Unable to hold back, Leo interrupted sharply, and Bruno frowned in annoyance.
“Humph. You criticize without trying yourself.”
“Yeah, Leo, you always say those who do nothing but complain are the worst,” Anne chimed in, catching Leo off guard.
“What?”
Stunned by the unexpected rebuke from his sister, Leo was speechless.
“You said Grandma Hilde is a gourmet, right? Maybe she’s not waking up because she hasn’t fully sensed how delicious the soup is. If we can’t feed her, we need to convey the deliciousness through her hearing!”
“Uh…”
“I’m not giving up. I’ll convey the full deliciousness of this soup!”
“……”
Typically, one would say heartwarming things to someone unconscious, like, “Here’s your favorite soup,” or “I worked hard to make this tasty for you.” But instead, Anne was passionately focused on describing the soup’s deliciousness. Leo was at a loss for words.
(What’s with this situation?)
However, seeing Anne’s serious expression, Leo decided to join in.
“Your food report lacks onomatopoeia.”
With a sigh, Leo decided to play along.
“Wow! This tender chicken skin! The moment you bite into it, the umami bursts out. It’s like a grand parade of flavors!”
“Ju… juwaa…”
“Yes… The fine texture of barley, bursting with the flavor of rosemary. This taste, this taste…”
“Plop, plop… fwoosh…”
How long had they been doing this? Anne perfected her dramatic phrases, Bruno his poignant whispers, and Leo became adept at human percussion. Yet, Hilde still did not open her eyes. She even seemed to be in more pain, with her eyebrows slightly furrowed.
“Maybe Grandma Hilde… won’t wake up…”
Anne’s soft whisper cut through the air. Her face lifted, then she shook her head vigorously.
“No, it’s just that our food report isn’t good enough yet, right?”
She forced a smile, but Leo was at a loss for words. He didn’t mind being blamed or criticized, but he couldn’t bear seeing her hurt.
“Uh, yeah… But Anne—”
“Wow! This barley’s texture! Popping here and there, it’s like rebellious barley!”
“Anne.”
“The umami of the chicken, the rosemary’s aroma, and the saltiness soaking into the tongue are amazing! It’s light yet heavy with flavor…”
Her words trailed off.
“S-Salty…”
Tears welled up in her big, innocent eyes and rolled down her cheeks, soaking into her forced smile. The sight pained Leo deeply.
“Anne…”
“Why… Why won’t she wake up…?”
“Anne.”
“Why do all the people who are kind to me always disappear…?”
Anne covered her face with both hands. She had been abandoned by her mother at four years old, considered an obstacle to remarriage. Despite her intelligence and charm, she quickly found a foster parent in an elderly, reputable church pastor. Even without a mother figure, Anne was happy, basking in the abundant affection. But within a month, the pastor died of a sudden illness, leaving Anne back at the orphanage. This happened five years ago, something only long-term residents like Leo knew.
“……”
Leo closed his mouth, patted his sister’s head, and gently embraced her. When Anne lost her foster parent, she used to wake up crying and apologize into the void, begging forgiveness for not being able to save him or nurse him.
Unable to bear seeing her so hurt, Leo hugged her tightly, cursing his helplessness.
“…Grandma Hilde…”
Eventually, with her face buried in Leo’s chest, Anne spoke through her tears.
“She always says mean things.”
“Yeah.”
“Even when she’s happy, she looks angry.”
“Yeah.”
Her tears soaked into his shirt.
“But her gray eyes turn a bit blue. That’s how I know she’s really happy.”
“I see.”
“When she first tasted Leo’s soup, her eyes sparkled and turned blue, even though she said it was awful…”
But Anne sobbed.
“But with her eyes closed, I… can’t tell!”
Gripping his shirt tightly, she cried out. Her sobs echoed in the room.
Leo patted her back repeatedly, looking helplessly at his childhood friend. But Bruno, instead of looking sad or confused, was gazing calmly at Hilde.
“Bruno…?”
“Grandma Hilde. It’s time to wake up.”
“Uh…?”
Leo’s and Anne’s jaws dropped in shock.
“Anne’s crying has reached phase two. Phase three will be problematic. The headmaster told me not to make girls cry. I understand you’re happy to be fussed over, but it’s time to wake up.”
“What…?”
Before Leo and Anne’s stunned eyes, something unbelievable happened.
“…Noisy… aren’t you…”
Hilde slowly opened her wrinkled eyelids, revealing her eyes.