A noisy train carriage.
A younger, more naive Commander broke free from the cheers of the send-off crowd, carrying his luggage as he boarded the train.
Reaching his seat, he found it occupied by a man, his face filled with enthusiasm, who was engrossed in conversation with a spirited woman in a slightly worn but tidy military uniform across from him.
Thud.
The Commander placed his luggage on the rack and impatiently tapped the man’s shoulder, gesturing for him to vacate the seat.
Roman: Ah, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to take your seat. I’m Roman.
Roman: Judging by your look… you’re heading to school registration too, right?
Commander: …
The Commander ignored him, nodding curtly before sitting down.
Roman scratched his head awkwardly and turned back to the woman.
Roman: Sorry, where were we?
???: …You were saying they’re also our compatriots, just lost in the dark forest.
Roman: Oh, right! That’s such an interesting perspective. The popular view these days is to outright deny the humanity of our enemies.
Roman: They’re not even seen as humans, let alone as kin.
???: That’s an inevitable phase in war—dehumanizing the enemy, demonizing them completely.
???: It makes killing them easier, with less guilt.
???: But killing is killing. That fact never changes.
Roman: You’re absolutely right!
Bang.
The Commander frowned, placing his cup on the table with a heavy thud.
???: It seems our new friend doesn’t like my perspective.
Commander: …
The Commander still ignored her, gazing out the window instead.
Honk—
The train let out a few sharp whistles, signaling its departure.
Roman: The train’s leaving. I’ll head back to my seat for now.
Roman: Helen, I’ll come back to continue our discussion later.
Helene: Alright.
Roman returned to his seat, leaving the cramped car in peace. Now, the Commander could clearly hear the noisy voices of those bidding farewell outside the train—
A crying woman: Ivan! My dear Ivan! You must come back alive. I’ll wait for you!
A grieving old man: My child… remember to write to us often!
A wailing child: Papa! Papa! Get off the train! Come down!
Commander: …
The Commander turned away, irritated, and accidentally met the smiling gaze of the woman across from him.
Helene: Hello, how should I address you?
Commander: …
Helene: It seems like no one came to see you off either.
Commander: …
Helene: This might be a bit forward, but… are you mute? If you use sign language, I can understand it a little.
The woman started gesturing as she spoke, but the Commander abruptly stood up, grabbed his cup, and walked toward the water station.
After filling the cup with water, the Commander lingered by the window, gazing absently at the scenery flashing by at high speed.
Elderly Woman: Hello, could you help me open this cup?
An elderly woman tugged at the Commander’s sleeve.
Elderly Woman: I think it’s stuck because the water inside cooled down, and now I can’t unscrew it.
Commander: Let me help you.
The Commander easily opened the lid.
Commander: Do you want to fill it with hot water?
Elderly Woman: Yes.
The Commander rinsed the cup, refilled it with hot water, and screwed the lid back on, deliberately leaving it slightly loose.
Elderly Woman: Thank you so much…
Commander: You’re welcome.
Elderly Woman: Judging by your uniform, are you heading to a military academy?
Commander: Yes… I’m enrolling at Suvorov Military Academy this year.
Elderly Woman: Seeing you reminds me of my son, Robin…
Commander: Robin… Did he attend a military academy too?
Elderly Woman: Robin is no longer with us. He died on the battlefield, three months ago…
Commander: I’m sorry…
Elderly Woman: It’s not your fault... Ah, he was so young, just like you. To me, he was still just a child…
Commander: ……
The elderly woman began rummaging through the cloth bag she carried. After a moment, she pulled out a packet of dry rations and thrust it toward the Commander.
Commander: No, no, that’s not necessary! I just helped you open your cup—it’s nothing, really.
Elderly Woman: Please, take it. I insist…
The woman dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.
Elderly Woman: When Robin left home, I was angry about his decision to enlist. I was so stubborn that I refused to go to the station to see him off. I never imagined… that would be our last goodbye. If only I had gone and properly bid him farewell...
The Commander hesitated but finally accepted the heavy packet of rations.
Commander: Alright… thank you.
Elderly Woman: But promise me, you must return home alive. Your family will always be waiting for you...
The Commander’s heart sank. He wanted to tell the woman there was no one waiting for him, but in the end, he forced a small smile and nodded.
Commander: Please take care of yourself.
Elderly Woman: I’m heading to my sister’s place. She’s ill and needs someone to look after her. I’ve sold everything of value at home—hopefully, it’ll be enough to help.
Commander: I wish you a safe journey.
The Commander watched as the elderly woman slowly made her way back to her seat, then returned to her own with her water cup in hand.
The train traversed the spring plains, rushing toward the horizon.
Amid the monotonous clatter of the train's wheels…
The Commander of 2050 gradually closed his eyes, succumbing to the haze of sleep.
And in the year 2050, though the NSU remained rife with war and suffering, there was still hope—a hope that lingered like the lilies along the roadside, thriving unrestrained in the embrace of spring.