WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 382: Separation

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Anne saw Gyeoul laugh like that for the first time. A clear, refreshing laugh, like the sound of a tuned percussion instrument. That pure joy directed at Anne made her chest tighten. At the same time, it gave her a small shock. Everyone had a distinct air about them, and with Gyeoul, that quality was especially pronounced. No matter what emotion he showed, it always carried a calmness like a still scene, so the vividness of the emotion pouring out of him astonished Anne.

The tension that had lasted for so long melted away as if it had never existed.

"I was scared."

Gyeoul, looking utterly exhausted, hugged Anne tightly.

"I was so scared. I thought something might have already happened to you..."

His voice trembled more and more toward the end. The sigh of relief so close to her ear, and Gyeoul's unfamiliar vulnerability, tore through Anne's heart without mercy. Sweet emotion sank into her and paralyzed her thoughts. Reality fell away. If she had been in her right mind, this would have been more than a little embarrassing. The troops who had covered Gyeoul all the way here seemed flustered as they watched the two of them, but Anne had no room to care about their stares. She did not want to care. In that moment, Gyeoul, and only Gyeoul, was the whole world.

"I was-"

She was about to say that she had been so worried, but Gyeoul collapsed into her arms.

"Wait, Gyeoul?"

Anne dropped to her knees as if being pulled down and caught his weight. Only then did she realize something was wrong. The hand wrapped around him was damp and lukewarm. Under the faint emergency lights, the color had been hard to make out, but as the late afternoon light slanted in through the open doorway, it became clear.

It was blood, wet in the sunlight.

A chill ran down Anne's spine. She pulled Gyeoul back and frantically looked him over.

"G-Gyeoul? Are you hurt? Huh? Are you hurt? Answer me!"

"Ah..."

Gyeoul swayed and gave her a dazed smile.

"Don't worry. I am hurt, but not enough to die."

"How, how am I supposed to not worry! Blood, ah, you're bleeding so much!"

"I know my own body. Accurately. I just pushed myself a little on the way here. I am tired, but my life is not in danger. If I rest just a little, I should be able to move again."

The way his breathing kept breaking only frightened Anne more.

"Someone! Someone help!"

Even in his pain, Gyeoul tried to reassure her with a troubled look.

"Calm down. I said I am all right..."

But it was not convincing. To Anne, it sounded like the lie of someone on the verge of death, meant to comfort the one left behind.

In the end, Gyeoul was right, but until he was evacuated to the hospital, she behaved like someone out of her mind.

Seven hours later, at dawn.

Anne sat beside the hospital bed, looking down at Gyeoul's face after he had only just fallen asleep. She should have been resting for tomorrow too, but to her, this moment was the truest rest she could have. Everything about Gyeoul being alive made her happy. When she looked at him and savored the fact that they were in the same space, everything else vanished beyond the far edge of awareness. It was wondrous. A person really could like another person this much. The past, when she had been certain she could never love him more than she already did, now seemed laughable. There was no limit to a loving heart.

'I should not be like this.'

Anne bit her lip and scolded herself. Many people had died. Among them was Agent Serrano, her subordinate and colleague. She ought to be grieving those losses. But she could not. No matter how hard she pulled on the reins of reason, this happiness would not listen. Even when she called sadness back again and again, it did not last long.

A little later, Anne found herself listening to the sound of Gyeoul's breathing and sighed.

"I really am beyond saving..."

Murmuring, she gently stroked Gyeoul's hair. It was ecstasy brushing against her fingertips. Her whole mind was being drawn into Gyeoul. She could not resist. With one low sigh, Anne surrendered to her own heart again.

Knock, knock.

The knock brought Anne back to herself. The person who quietly opened the door and came in was FBI Director Ernest Dean. Even in this situation, he looked as neat as always, and when he saw Anne awake, he frowned.

"Good God. Gibson, don't tell me you were sitting there all night."

"All night?"

Flustered, Anne looked at the window. Morning sunlight shone unexpectedly through the gaps in the blinds.

"When did it get so..."

Her hand went unconsciously to the back of her neck. Her muscles were stiff. She had been watching only Gyeoul, forgetting the passing of time and even the ache gradually building in her neck. Yet her mind was clear, which made it even more bewildering.

"Huh."

Director Dean looked dumbfounded.

"I knew it already, but you really do care for Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul."

"I am sorry."

Anne turned red all the way down to her neck. Half of it was embarrassment, and half was guilt. Since that showed plainly on her face, Director Dean shook his head.

"No need to apologize. You have been through plenty yourself."

Gyeoul did not wake. The conversation was quiet, but to Anne, who knew how sensitive he usually was, even this was surprising. That made her pity him all the more.

"Anyway, can we talk for a moment?"

At the director's request, Anne rose from her seat. She was also curious why the director, who should normally have been at headquarters, the White House, or the operation site, had come to the hospital.

After entering the lounge, the director asked, "According to Callahan, Supervisor Gibson shut herself away for five hours. I take it you do not know what happened during that time?"

"Yes. I have no excuse."

"I told you, you do not need to apologize. Your nominal duty is guarding Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul, after all. Though I do wonder whether you were prepared to respond to an attack."

"..."

"Damn it. There I go saying something pointless again. I really need to fix this bad habit."

After grumbling, the director turned on the TV. Since most channels had scheduled emergency programs after the coup was suppressed, what appeared on the screen was naturally the news. The problem was the content. The FBI Director clasped his hands behind his back.

"Perfect timing."

"-At 12:40 a.m. today, Section 3 of the 25th Amendment went into effect. Accordingly, Vice President Sanders will serve as acting president until President MacMillan regains consciousness."

Anne's eyes widened.

"What does that mean? Wasn't the White House untouched by any attack?"

"It was."

"Then why did the President-"

"Overwork."

Anne was left speechless by Director Dean's answer. The rest of the explanation followed.

"He collapsed during the after-action meeting. The announcement was postponed until daybreak. It was better to settle the situation completely first before informing the public. There was also concern that the confusion we had barely managed to calm would worsen in the dark, and that quite a few people would react like you, Gibson."

In other words, it would invite suspicion. The President collapsing from overwork was plausible, but the timing of his collapse was too convenient.

After a silence, Anne asked, "Is he in critical condition?"

"Well. They said it is not bad, but they cannot make any firm promises either."

"..."

"His Excellency really has terrible luck. What kind of trouble is this at the end of his term? No, should I say his bad luck is incredible instead? Morgellons, nukes, and now even a coup... Haha!"

The Bureau Director burst into laughter, sounding more incredulous than amused.

"The reason I came here is that the President is scheduled to be moved to this hospital as well. Since we are rotating only personnel we can trust one hundred percent, it has become difficult to guard multiple locations. Why else would I be inspecting the site myself?"

"I see."

"You need to keep your wits about you too. Your mission remains the same, but now that this place has become Eagle's Nest, the level of danger is not what it was before. Cooperate with the Secret Service however you can."

Eagle was the President's call sign during protective operations.

"Understood."

Anne lifted her chin and answered at attention. The director patted her shoulder.

"I am counting on you."

"Do you have any other business, sir?"

"Not really. I came partly to get a little rest and partly to see your face before I leave. There are not many agents as good as you. I knew you were here, but nobody could find you anywhere, so I got curious. Whether you were alive or dead."

He spoke with a serious face from beginning to end, but Anne knew what kind of person the director was. It was a sincere little tease. Anne lowered her head to hide her embarrassment. The director shrugged.

"On the other hand, I also wanted to check how Lieutenant Colonel Han was doing."

"The military doctor says he is fine. That he has no fatal injuries."

"At least that is fortunate. The citizens are very worried. They think we might lose two heroes at once, the President and Lieutenant Colonel Han. Mood is such an important thing. It can be nothing, and it can be everything."

"..."

A brief silence settled. During it, the TV reported the progress of the rebellion. Naturally, Gyeoul's story came up too. The director began again.

"He really was incredible."

"What do you mean?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul. Hmm, the full name is still hard to pronounce."

For someone who said it was hard, his pronunciation was accurate. That was usually taken as an expression of goodwill toward Gyeoul, or respect.

"I read several reports. You should know some of it too, Gibson."

That was true. Before Gyeoul fell asleep, Anne had checked quite a lot of information. She also knew Gyeoul's movements from the previous day. Most of all, she had heard the story from him himself. Of course, hearing that story had made Anne's heart ache even more. How hard he had pushed himself to save her.

"He was practically a war machine."

"..."

"Honestly, at first I almost doubted whether it was true, but with the list of witnesses packed with names of Medal of Honor recipients... There is plenty of other evidence supporting the statements too. Depending on how you look at it, it would not be unreasonable to call him the greatest contributor to suppressing the rebellion. Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul was also the one who captured one of the ringleaders, Clarissa Chadwick."

After saying that much, the director paused, then changed his tone.

"Right. Pass this on to the lieutenant colonel."

"What is it?"

"I would prefer to leave it to his conscience if possible, but tell him we should make the torture at the convention center as close to something that never happened as we can. As long as he denies the accusation, the rest will be handled by our Bureau."

"...Why?"

"Because it is hard to award the Medal of Honor for an achievement with a stain on its honor."

She understood. Sad things were covered by happy things. If it was the first triple Medal of Honor award since the founding of the nation, then combined with Gyeoul's known achievements, it would be enough to divert the citizens' attention, even if only for a moment. As the director had said, mood mattered. That brief mood, which sometimes meant nothing at all, yet in times like this could become everything.

After thinking, Anne said, "He probably will not accept it."

"Try."

Anne stared at him in surprise, and the director spoke again.

"You will be better at persuading him than I am."

"I-"

"Well, if it does not work, it cannot be helped."

His tone might have been light, but an order was an order. Anne started to say something, then stopped and closed her mouth. As if he had nothing more to say, the Bureau Director looked at his wristwatch.

"Tsk. Ten minutes already?"

"Are you leaving?"

"As you know, this is when I become popular. I liked it better before I became director. Back then, the only person who complained about me slacking off was my wife."

As if that could have been true. Anne gave a polite laugh.

After the director left, Anne remained in the lounge a little longer. She wanted to watch the news. There was time left until her shift change anyway. If she only wanted information, it would be better to use her position as an FBI agent, but broadcasts were better for grasping the overall mood of society. In that sense, news channels were often left on in Bureau offices too.

After watching for a while, of all things, an interview with an FBI mobile unit member came on. The agent, who must have received prior permission from superiors, testified about the battle in front of the Mandarin Oriental hotel.

The most striking part was, of course, the portion about Gyeoul.

"There were snipers. Then they were gone."

Anne let out a short laugh and recalled that moment. She had thought it was strange. While they were moving covertly, the southern side, which had been filled with heavy gunfire, had suddenly gone quiet. She remembered sharpening her nerves at the abrupt change. She had not known for sure, but had wondered if the toxin was involved.

To think that had been Gyeoul.

The necrotoxin the traitors had brought into the hotel was found sealed inside containers. Edgar Kramer had played a large role in preventing its use. If he had not resisted, the leaders of ruined nations who had been targeted would have ended up as deranged cannibals.

"Who has the right to live and who does not is not for traitors to decide. That is for American law to decide! I am someone who intends to defend the Constitution of the United States! How could I not fight them!"

It was Kramer's speech.

'His popularity will soar.'

Anne tried to predict what lay ahead. If the traitors' weaponization of the toxin had stemmed from the Greek Islands exposé battle, Kramer could never be completely free from the debate over responsibility. But since the True Patriots were involved in the rebellion, it was entirely possible that they had obtained information about the toxin through another route.

More than that, the positive image Kramer had gained this time was enormous.

The news anchor's voice came through.

"In front of the White House fence, Washington citizens continue to lay flowers in hopes of President MacMillan and Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul's recovery. As one citizen myself, I also pray that God's grace will be with them both."

The screen showed a countless crowd. There were few flowers compared to the number of people because flowers and things like them were hard to find right now. But some people were using Snowflake knots in place of flowers. There was no division of race or political opinion in the affection directed toward Gyeoul. Knowing that sight could never last forever made her feel sad. It was truly a flower that bloomed and fell in a single autumn season...

She flinched.

Anne felt an unfamiliar strangeness in the thought she had just had.

'What was that?'

For a moment, she clung to the feeling that she had missed something important, but a wave of sleep too strong to fight pressed in. Strange. Was it because she had skipped sleep last night? Barely managing to check the time, Anne bit her lip hard enough to hurt.

It would be bad if she fell asleep now.

But she could not hold out long. Her eyelids sank heavily.

As she fell asleep against the chair, she saw beautiful starlight in her dream.

Footnotes:

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