This is an unofficial translation of the short story ディートフリート・ブーゲンビリアIf (Diethard Bougainvillea's If) found in the compendium Violet Evergarden's Last Letter (ヴァイオレット・エヴァーガーデン
～ラスト・レター～) (the compendium brings together the eight short stories given
out as booklets for the movies together with the one that was included
in the DVD/Blu-ray of Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll). I am sharing my translation so that fans who do not understand Japanese can read it.
Note:
The rights to the original work belong to the author Akatsuki Kana and
Kyoto Animation. While this unofficial translation is being shared under
fair use, I will remove it if it comes to my knowledge that this
translation is being misused or if there is any infringement of the
copyright owners' rights.
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Diethard Bougainvillea's If
by Akatsuki Kana ディートフリート・ブーゲンビリアIf
暁 佳奈--------------------------------------------
A beast found hope at the end of loneliness.
A hope that is so strong, never seen before, but at the same time, fragile.
Diethard Bougainvillea, the beast’s hope, was such a person.
Cursing at the unknown, acting proud. With a soul like a drawn sword.
A person with many aspects that can be loved, but destroys them all with his clumsiness.
The beast found such a man.
Two awkward souls, coming together even though they cannot get along well together.
The beast was only good in fighting, and sent many of the man’s enemies to the bottom of the sea.
The man provided the beast with a living and protection.
An agreement formed between them without having to form one.
As they lived like this, something called feelings started to grow within the cold-hearted man.
A dangerous thing that makes one weak.
Such emotions are unnecessary. Better to get rid of them. Better to get away from the beast.
So thought the man, but not the beast. To split or not to split?
Man and beast clashed over this one point, but eventually, the man gave in.
He could not leave the beast when it begged not to be left alone.
Without getting rid of the beast when it was time to do so, the man had an idea: he would turn the beast into a human being.
What makes a being human?
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Diethard Bougainvillea’s “If”
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The ship was burning.
In the dark sea, sparks were flying. The cries of navy men, who protect the sea, were drowned out by the waves. Screams and sounds of explosions—unfitting for the beautiful night—vanished into the sea. Unlike fighting on land, bodies are rarely seen during battles at sea.
“Standby to fire!”
Because the sea sweeps away everything. Fear, sadness, even the people there, or time itself—these are trivial matters to the endless ocean. The sea erases them all. Bringing them to the bottom of the sea. Such is the sea: deep, cold, swallowing everything.
“Stand your ground! Return fire! Return fire!”
The intensifying continental war has forced soldiers to fight not only on land but also at sea.
“Standby for roll! Grab something!”
“Get moving if you don’t want to die!”
“Fire!”
The warship of military power Leidenschaftlich was coming under more intense fire than the enemy.
“Incoming!”
Anyway, in the end, Leidenschaftlich won this sea battle even though it was a tough fight, and the burning warship managed to make its way back to Leiden. But that is not the point here.
“Brace for enemy fire!”
This story is about a man who could not call out the name of a girl during a dire crisis.
Amid the confusing sea battle, navy Captain Diethard Bougainvillea was desperately searching for the girl soldier under his possession. He could see the enemy on the verge of attack. He thought, “She is so light, she will be blow off the deck by the attack!”
As expected, he saw her floating through the air above the burning ship.
“!”
An unvoiced cry came out of him. And what else can be expected? The name he wanted to cry out did not exist. Diethard had always called her “you”. He kept thinking, “I should give her a name someday. How about now? No, maybe next time.” Until today.
“You, my... my what? My... tool? Beast? You, my...”
His thoughts did not form properly into words, and fear of losing her continued to grow. As she was being thrown off into the sea, she looked one last time at Diethard’s emerald eyes. Both were not good at conversation. At that instance, Diethard felt as if the girl was telling him, “It is fine if you want to let me go.”
And so, Diethard ran. “Fool,” he wanted to shout.
“Grab tight!”
As she was about to fall off, Diethard reached out his hand, and the girl grabbed it in reflex. They were about to fall off together when Diethard’s subordinate grabbed him by the waist. The girl soldier, who usually slays countless enemies like a demon, was unexpectedly slim and light. Diethard hugged her, and for several seconds, was frozen by fear.
The fear of losing this “tool” shook him.
He needed to stand up. The battle was still on. In order not to lose this girl, not to lose himself, Diethard needed to take command as the commander. But his body did not move immediately.
“Captain...”
They looked at each other again. This time, her eyes said, “Don’t leave me.”
For someone who had just easily chosen death a while ago, Diethard felt like killing her for her selfishness. Instead, he hugged her tight. Their heartbeats blended together. This became a turning point for them.
Even so, it took a long while before Diethard acted on that turning point.
And during that time, the continental war took a sudden turn and came to an end.
Although the unusual issue of the girl soldier’s existence became an unsettled matter after the war, Diethard continued to keep her under employment as his own tool. He told those around him that he did not have time to even make a choice about this amid the busy and enormous work of postwar issues. But actually, it was because the option of letting her go never even came into his mind. The two of them were always together no matter where they go or what they do, such that it became taken as a matter of fact.
Living away from the battlefield, the girl had more time, which she used to learn to speak and write, educate herself, and study military science. Eventually, she became a capable secretary.
“Captain, about the house you were talking about, it has already been sold. There are a few other candidates, but the view of the evening sun, which you want, is poor and not suitable. Given the abundant budget, maybe it is better to build a new house from scratch.”
“You... who gave you such an idea?”
She, who could no longer be called a girl soldier, still did not have a name.
Right now, the two of them were talking while seated on a bed in the barracks of the Ministry of the Navy. It was morning, and Diethard had just gotten up and the girl was carefully combing his hair.
“Master Gilbert has offered to provide land in the possession of the Bougainvillea family. President Hodgins has also offered to introduce skilled craftsmen in Leiden.”
“You want me to seize my brother’s assets?”
The girl’s white and smooth fingers deftly braided his hair and finished off with a ribbon. Once the hair was done, everything else was easy. The girl quickly helped Diethard get ready.
“Master Gilbert said that you have given up all your inheritance, so he would like you to at least have this little bit.”
“Your Gilbert?”
“No Captain, your Master Gilbert.”
“And what did you reply?”
“I told him that you would probably be angry.”
“...”
“But Master Gilbert insisted, so I am conveying this.”
Diethard stared at the girl. They have been together for a while now, and like she said, it was a mistake to tell him about such an idea. She should know. But still, she told him. With his eyes, Diethard asked her why.
“I am annoyed as you expected. What are you going to do about it?”
“I have already secured the wine that is being delivered to the liquor store in town today. I will be going later to get it. It is the one that you wanted to drink but couldn’t find during the war.”
“...”
“It seems that it has started to be sold again. Also, I know who is the artist of the painting that you saw the other day. He has already passed away, but his works are being kept in the possession of his family. I have made arrangements for them to be viewed during your next off day.”
Diethard put on his coat, then turned to look at the girl. With a tone that was more sulking than annoyed, he said, “You, don’t go off on your own and put things into my schedule for my day off. What if I say I don’t want to go?”
“But Captain, you were angry during the war about works of art being lost. I thought you would want to obtain works from artists that you like. The artist’s family doesn’t seem to be living well. Instead of having those works sold off cheaply, you said before that it would be better for someone with an eye for beauty to have them...”
The girl’s mouth got covered. Diethard had stuff his braided hair into her mouth. No one remembered when it started, but it was a sign for her to stop talking. A playful gesture between the two of them.
“...”
The girl blinked her eyes, bluer than the sea, and stared at Diethard.
“Yes, shut up.”
“...”
“I don’t need the Bougainvillea’s land. You are going to see Gilbert again, right? Tell him never to bring this up again. For the wine, I want to buy it whenever it is available. See if you can negotiate for a regular shipment under the name of Diethard Bougainvillea. As for the next day off...”
“...”
“Where does the family live?”
“...”
“Oi! Say something!”
Without words, the girl pointed at the braided hair in her mouth. Diethard clicked his tongue before taking away his hair.
“Lontano. It is within the country so it can be a day trip. As for transport...”
“I will take the new car. Don’t forget to ask the owner of Canaria Tailor if the jacket and trousers I ordered are ready. If so, I will go tomorrow for final adjustments. I will wear them on the next day off. Of course, you will be escorting me. Don’t go off planning anything with Gilbert.”
“Roger sir, I have memorized it all.”
When she replied like this, it really meant she had memorized everything that Diethard said. Only with her, Diethard does not argue over what was said or not. She will just repeat his words like a parrot and further annoy him. She is so capable it makes one uneasy.
He had somehow noticed it for a while. This beast that he had picked up was really clever. At first, she could not say a word or recognize letters, but not wanting to be forsaken by Diethard, she had worked hard and grown into a necessity for him.
“Tell me more later about the members of the surviving family. You have no taste when it comes to getting a gift so I will do it.”
There were few areas in which Diethard could better this girl. In terms of fighting skills, the girl was in her prime, while Diethard was getting weaker with the years. Depending on what they compete in, he may even be completely defeated.
“Yes, I did not acquire any knowledge in that field.”
The girl was never thinking about winning against Diethard and just nodded her head.
“That’s because you have no sense of art.”
“You are right, Captain.”
She was a necessity, but had not been given a name so far. According to Diethard’s guess, she would soon be turning fourteen.
Leaving the barracks, Diethard left the girl in charge of mundane tasks as he headed off to the Ministry of the Navy for work. In his office, he took out a notebook from his desk. The corners of the notebook were creased from being flipped countless times. Worn and old, it looked like something he had been carrying around during the war.
From the silence in the hallway, Diethard knew that no one would be coming into the office soon. He opened the notebook. Written on many, many pages starting from the first were potential names. From those for women to gender neutral ones.
It was not intentional that he kept calling her “you”. He had given it much thought and could not decide on what to call her. He did not know which name would make her happy.
Diethard is a twisted sort of perfectionist.
Some of the names were circled, and he even wrote reasons why he thought those names were good. There are probably few fathers awaiting a newborn child who go into such detail.
Somehow, he felt that none of those names fitted her. Through such repeated rejections, he reached the current state. He could not tell her until he arrived at a conclusion.
He was such a man. Disappearing without a trace after leaving home, by the time he became a respectable naval officer, the chasm with his family had become unbreachable, and his father had passed away.
A troublesome perfectionist. That is the man known as Diethard Bougainvillea.
“Maybe I should just let her choose?”
Diethard was a decisive person when it came to work.
“No, that won’t do after I have put in so much thought. I have to finish this.”
He is an indecisive person whenever it comes to matters dealing with emotions.
“That is the least I can do.”
He even had difficulty trying to love his brother, the person he cared for the most in the world. It is not about being shy; he is warped. Although his upbringing had a lot to do with the person he had become, not giving a name to the girl he had taken in after all these years was probably due to the darkness in him. And the girl... she did not question why she was being called “you” nor did it inconvenience her.
That was another problem in itself.
As the notorious name “Undine of Leidenschaftlich” who sunk enemy ships had spread amongst those affiliated with the military, the girl came to be called Undine. Or rather, people thought that was her name. Even his brother Gilbert and his friend Claudia, who kept telling him that he needed to give her a name, would call her “Undine” or “little Undine” when they met.
Although she was registered within the military as a weapon without a name, with time, she came to be called “Diethard’s pistol.”
When dealing with people outside the military, she would not even give her name. For example, when dealing with the wine store or the surviving family of the artist, she would refer to herself as “Diethard Bougainvillea’s secretary.” It was a false title that he had taught her to use when turning away those he did not want to meet. She has since grown adept at using this title.
Listening to her bell-like voice, by the time the other party thought, “By the way, what was her name?”, the conversation would have ended. The next time, it would again be just “that secretary.”
Treated like a necessity by Diethard, the girl had neither friends nor lover. She never thought much about the lack of a name. Regarding her name, the only one who really cared was Diethard.
“!”
On that day, at that time, onboard that burning ship, Diethard could not call out a name. If she had died, what name would he use to mourn her?
“You.”
“Bastard.”
“Damn.”
“Monster.”
Or just the nameless one?
Whatever it is, it is unbecoming for the life that he has carried since the day he decided not to leave her. Soon, he would need to steel himself.
Even if it does not turn out to be a perfect conclusion for Diethard.
After about ten days, the day finally came when he could take a break. Diethard and the girl woke up early and drove to the place called Lontano within Leidenschaftlich.
Lontano is a city of the arts, with galleries, museums, theaters used for plays and orchestra performances, and markets for used books. It is a place that is enjoyable to those who love these pastimes. At the center of the city is the old castle, with houses built surrounding it. The house of the artist, where Diethard was headed, was located in the outskirts of the city. It was a single building that could house two, at most three, occupants.
A house with no ties to the city of arts. That was the impression upon entering.
“Our family used to serve the castle at the center of the city. Now, the castle no longer has a lord. The city has become weird since the castle became a tourist attraction,” said the artist’s mother as she welcomed them into the house. Diethard wanted to rebuke this woman, who described the vibrant city today as weird, but held his tongue. Lontano only started to develop in modern times. Thus, to a family that has been around for generations, the Lontano of today probably felt like heresy.
The woman led them to the basement, where they finally got to see the artist’s works. The basement, which was more like a storeroom, was dimly lit and musty. It seemed the woman could not stand looking at the works of the dead artist and had put them all away. Before he realized it, Diethard had let out, “If possible, I want to take them all away.” He could not allow the paintings, which so impressed him, to be lost inside this basement room. It felt like he was helping a dying man.
For a start, he started to choose the works he wanted to save first, and passed them to the girl he had brought along to carry them. As he was doing so, the woman said in a weak voice, “Captain Bougainvillea...”
In a gentle voice, Diethard replied, “Madam, there is no need to address me by rank.”
Although not young, the woman was not old too. Addressed as “madam” by the sexy man that Diethard was, she covered her face somewhat shyly.
“Mr. Bougainvillea, I am not sure what is so good about my son’s works.”
Diethard said the same words he would have spoke if the artist had been around. “Not only the technique and use of colors, but the unique individuality is great.”
“Are they really that good?”
“They are amazing.”
The woman still looked unconvinced. At the end of the day, the value of art depends on the preferences and tastes of each individual. It is not the fault of people who do not understand them. She might have understood if Diethard explained further, but he was not in the mood. What he wanted was time spent looking at the things he like, not talking to people with a different thinking.
“An acquaintance of mine in Leiden has a place for holding private exhibitions. I will introduce him to you, and you can try talking to him. I will take those works which I want, but I shall loan them back when you hold an exhibition. If things go well...” He was going to say that her son’s works will be passed down through time when he saw that she was frowning.
“Is there a problem?”
He thought she would be happy, but seeing her reaction, he could no longer ignore her rejection. The woman was going to say something, but kept quiet as she could not find the proper words. As Diethard waited patiently for her to speak, she eventually said, “After all this time... isn’t it a bit late?”
Her mumbled words echoed with a hollowness in the basement room. Diethard took it all in, thinking that she was just emotional from going through the belongings of a deceased loved one.
“No, it isn’t too late. There is no wrong time to do the right thing.”
This made Diethard remember the “right thing” that he has yet to do, but he pushed it aside and continued, “The right thing to do is to leave the works of your talented son for future generations. It is still not too late.”
“But... I had never been interested in what he was doing.”
Those words, spoken by her who was the mother, were shocking.
“Is it even right for me to do so now? To pass down the works of my son?”
It seemed her son did not turn out the way she wanted.
The woman wanted an extroverted and hardworking son, but what she got was an introverted bookworm who loved books and paintings. To the mother, this child felt somewhat lacking. At first, she thought he would eventually become the person she hoped for when he became an adult. So she did what she could for him, but the more she did so, the more introverted he became. A gap grew between them. She did not understand what he was thinking. He loved to express, but did not express himself to his parents.
Somewhere along the way, the woman gave up on her son. This is not the child I had hoped for. It is that simple. Fortunately, she had other children, so she pinned her hopes on them instead. Her feelings probably reached her son, even though she never said them out loud.
To her, this son was a failure. Whenever he went out, it would be a while before he returned home. She did not know what work he was doing. When he told her proudly that he managed to sell a painting that he painted in between his work, she was not interested at all and just gave a curt reply.
And now, she remembered. The final conversations with her son, when he looked like he wanted to be praised. It was then that the war intensified, and the town he was staying in was bombed.
She searched for him in the rubble of his house, and waited many days. But he did not return. The war gave birth to many such families. This is not a rare story. The woman had also told herself that this was part of war. Crying, she brought his remaining works back with her as keepsakes. Thinking that they could at least provide some comfort for her heart.
But as she looked at them, she felt like she was being strangled. The paintings kept telling her, “I want to be seen.”
“I have value.”
“I am not worthless.”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
She kept seeing the regretful times she had with her son. It was scary, she said. That was why, even though she brought the paintings home, she had left them in the basement without taking care of them.
As someone who did not have much to do with his own family, this story did not feel especially sad to Diethard.
“If only I had understood him better...”
Every family has its own problems. That was about all that he felt. If it was his father who said this, maybe he would get angry and snubbed him for being too late.
What can he say to a woman tied by her family?
Diethard thought his own mother was even more tied by the Bougainvillea than him. He felt that his mother was treated more like an accessory. The woman in front of him was younger than his mother, but she was a mother too, and he did not want to treat her coldly.
“Even when you are family, it is difficult to understand each other when you live in different ways. Madam, you raised your children during the difficult times of war. That itself is a feat to be proud of.” Diethard could say this because, within his family, he did not have a bad relationship with his mother. Even so, he had not spoken much with her ever since he left home.
“But, these are works with value, right? Talented, right?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, when he was alive... I never praised him. Now... now... I never even understood him. How can I take money from you for his paintings? How can I tell others that my son was amazing? It’s too...”
She stopped there. But Diethard guessed what she wanted to say. “Dishonest?”
The woman was a little surprised by the correct guess. But there was also a side of her that spoke so far wanting to be told that word.
“Yes... dishonest... My son, I have been so...”
She started to choke on her words.
Although hesitant, Diethard whispered in his gentlest voice, “I, too, am estranged with my family.”
“Your family too?”
“Yes, my family, they are all troublesome people.”
“...”
“I had no need for family in my life. So I ran away. It is my life, so I wanted to live as I want. When I was doing so, my father died.”
“...”
Diethard smiled. Just a little.
“The person who understood me the least among the family.”
But someone close would know.
“Even today, I don’t regret leaving them.”
That there was a lonely look on Diethard’s face.
“But even though I left them, broken ties with them, now, I have finally came to think that maybe I should have made some compromises.”
The girl who was with him looked on quietly, as Diethard talked about his inner feelings to another person, something that he rarely did.
“If I could turn back time, I probably would make some compromises. Although probably not patch up. If that doesn’t work, well, it can’t be helped. After all, a family is but a collection of outsiders. A bit of distance is good. Still... you and I, we both feel regret...”
Diethard also had the same difficulty in putting this feeling into words.
Placing his hand on his forehead as if having a headache, he continued, “Even if it feels pathetic, it is better to do than not. If not, you will probably regret not doing so several years from now.”
“...”
“What we can do now is to keep making the choice of whether to regret or not.”
“To keep making the choice...”
“Yes. How many meaningful choices can we make until we meet again with the ones who have died? That’s about all we can do.”
“...”
Maybe those last few words resonated with her. The woman started to weep. The girl, who was carrying many paintings, could not even offer her a handkerchief and could only observe in silence. But it was not irresponsible or unemotional observation.
“You. Go outside.”
She knew that, in such times, her master would act. That was why she waited in silence.
“Roger.”
The girl left the basement as she was told. As she was leaving, she saw Diethard stroking the woman’s back, just like how he would stroke his own mother.
Usually without expression, there was a small change to the girl’s face.
She kept her gaze down as she stepped out of the darkness into the brightness, ahead of the others.
The paintings discovered by Diethard came to be permanently exhibited at an art gallery in Leidenschaftlich, becoming popular and drawing many crowds.
The continental war which brought sadness to everyone. An artist who died during the war. Some more, he was a young writer from Leidenschaftlich. In the postwar recovery period, his story struck a chord in the hearts of many.
The woman had mixed feelings about how this story was told, but still, she accepted it as better than leaving those works unseen. There are few things that those left behind can do for those who have passed away.
One would have thought that Diethard’s dealings with the woman would have ended soon after, but instead, they continued. Every time they met to discuss details about exhibitions, the woman would ask questions about art, which she had been trying to learn. He would set aside time to answer them. That was about the extent of their interactions. But still, it was rare for someone like Diethard who cared little for relationships with people. Maybe, just maybe, Diethard wanted such a relationship with his own mother.
The harsh and strict man has grown gentler with age. If one is to ask who helped, the girl without a name probably helped the most.
“You. Do you have time tomorrow?”
One day, Diethard asked the girl about her day off.
“Captain, the moment you asked, anything I had planned would have disappeared into the sea.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.”
Actually, that was a fitting reply, as she gave Diethard priority above anything else.
The next day, Diethard and the girl visited a plot of land in Leiden. Walking along a path full of greenery, they came to a house. Diethard smiled with pride.
“Nice house, right?”
Not a family man, he had started looking for a place to settle after the war. This search came to an end soon after he found those paintings. Frequently visiting art galleries to help with exhibitions, an art dealer he came to know introduced him to an investor with an unused villa, even though it needed to be fully renovated.
It fitted Diethard’s needs perfectly. Although it was old, it can still be lived in with a bit of work. As the villa of an investor, its appearance looked great. It was also well located. Not too far from the capital, surrounded by nature. A lovely home to return to from the battlefield. In the garden, which was big enough to grow some vegetables and plant some flowers, was a wooden swing. The villa probably belonged to someone with children.
Diethard ordered the girl to sit on the swing. She followed his order, thinking he wanted to check the integrity of the swing. Then, Diethard sat down too. The scenery in front of them was serene, too peaceful for two persons from the military used to killing and death. Still, it was something necessary.
“The house,” said Diethard, who kept gazing at the scenery in front of them without looking at the girl. “You and me, and I don’t plan to invite anyone else over except for Gil. Still, the place is big enough to house a number of people. Go choose the room you want later. Let me know if you have any preferences for the decorations and furniture. I will make the arrangements.”
“I am fine with anything.”
“I thought so too. I have already made the arrangements.”
“...”
“Maybe I should have asked what color you like. Well, if you don’t like it, use your own pay to make your own changes.”
“Will you and I be returning to this place from now on?”
“Yes. This is our final abode.”
The girl blinked in surprise.
“Our?”
Diethard replied evasively, “It will eventually be under your name.”
There was a change in the girl each time he spoke.
“No matter how you look at it, I will probably die first.”
The girl swallowed her breath.
“I was thinking about what to leave behind for you.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to say, “Please don’t say such things.”
“Continue to live here after I die.”
The girl tugged at Diethard’s sleeve and said, “No.”
The girl would probably have enjoyed looking around the house if Diethard had not said those words. Although no one knows what she is thinking, she does offer a bit of expression.
Now, she was shaking her head like a small child.
“I won’t let you die, Captain,” she said, bitterly.
No one knows when. It was well in the future. But the girl was worried. She never voiced a word of fear, no matter what kind of mission she was given. But today, given a final abode by her master, she was shaken with worry.
It is a valuable property worth a lot of money. A fitting reward after enduring years of unrest. She should be happy, but she was not. Property. Money. In her eyes, these things are not worth much. They cannot appease her loneliness. They cannot affirm her existence. They cannot give her orders. And so, instead of all these things, she preferred him. She was such a beast. Somehow, imperfect as a human being, and more like a machine. And a monster who did not know love.
“I will eliminate all your enemies.”
She did not know that Diethard was trying to give her love.
The beast’s master smiled. “I am talking about old age.” He reached out his hand and without much thought, patted the girl on her head. As if comforting a frightened animal. He had never thought about this before. Patting a monster.
“I will fight old age too. I will protect your health. No matter how many years, I will keep you alive.”
“It is frightening when you talk like this, because it may well come true.”
“I will make it come true.”
“Rubbish. Think about the human lifespan. There is not much you can do even if you try your best.” Diethard’s eyes looked happy even while he was teasing her.
“When I think about you being at my deathbed, it does sound a bit interesting. I look forward to that day.”
“It is not interesting at all.” Her voice was shaking.
He had made her sad. Diethard knew this, but he continued, “It’s a delight to me.” The girl was breaking apart at his words. “You have always gotten the better of me.” It was rare for her to be shaken.
“I want to make you cry when I die.”
Being able to do so was proof that he was important to her.
Diethard was truly a sophisticated, twisted, but deeply emotional man.
The hand patting her head moved to her eyes, which were starting to overflow with tears. He wiped them away with his fingers, but they kept flowing. Tears were being produced faster than he could wipe them away.
“If you don’t want to be bettered by me, at least smile when you are at my deathbed.”
Diethard kept wiping away her tears, but after a while, seeing that they were not stopping, he took out a notebook from his bag. He opened it on their laps to show the girl this worn notebook.
“What... is this?”
“Potential names for you.”
“For me?”
“You probably forgot because you are so stupid, but you don’t have a name.”
“How about Undine?”
“That’s just something to praise you for your wartime achievements.”
Diethard flipped through the pages. Every page was filled with rows of well thought-out names. As she looked at them, the girl stopped crying. For once, she was excited, and even started to flip the pages herself. On the last page was a name with a big circle.
It was the name of a flower.
“Captain...”
She looked up at him. Diethard pointed to the untended flower bed.
“That’s the one, right? Your flower.”
“My flower...”
“We will also plant bougainvillea. That’s my flower. After much thought, I settled on this. When I visited this place, I envisaged you among those flowers. So I thought, this should do. It sounds nice too when put together with my surname. Not bad, right?”
Diethard’s handsome face came up close to her face. Almost touching, whispering teasingly, he said.
“Linaria Bougainvillea.”
The beautiful sounding name melted into the girl. Linaria. A beautiful flower. And when combined with the flower of the respectable Bougainvillea family, it sounded like a bouquet. A link, unimaginable before this, was born between them. And expressed by this name.
“Lina... ria...”
“You are saying it wrong. Try again.”
“Linaria. Linaria Bougainvillea is my name.”
Tears started to flow from her eyes again.
Seeing those tears, Diethard beamed in delight.
“You gave me a house and a name. I don’t know what I can offer in return.”
“Don’t get it wrong. You have been drawn into a lifetime employment without your prior agreement.”
“Roger.”
“I won’t allow you to quit.”
“Roger.”
“This is admonishment so that you don’t forget I am your master. Do you understand? I am not being kind.”
“I am happy with this admonishment.”
“You are such a troublesome girl.”
“I take after my master.”
“You really know how to be sarcastic.”
“It is because of you. I am a beast. I change according to my master.”
“I have a strong influence. That’s what you are saying, right?”
“Extremely strong influence.” And so, please live long and continue to be my master, the beast cried.
“I will do what I can...”
Diethard looked at the girl, who was stroking the name written in the notebook. He wondered, how many years more will he get to look at her? He needed to find people whom he can trust her with after he is gone. It is too suffocating if he does not allow a friend or two soon.
Maybe he should get her to leave the military. But what can she do?
Thoughts came and went.
No, not now, not yet, he thought.
He could not consolidate his thoughts. For now, he just wanted to console the crying beast. He wanted to enjoy the moment of being wanted. Diethard Bougainvillea’s way of expressing love is truly clumsy.
“Linaria, now, even if you die alone, we will be together in the grave.”
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This is a love story of what could have been.
--------------------------------------------
This is a list of Violet Evergarden short stories
that have been written by author Akatsuki Kana, with links to fan
translations (when available). I hope you enjoyed these two short
stories as much as I did.
My overall thoughts on Violet Evergarden The Movie.
Events:
Translations of short stories:
Gilbert Bougainvillea and the Fleeting Dream (unofficial translation of "ギルベルト・ブーゲンビリアと儚い夢")
Violet Evergarden short stories: "Logbook entry" and "Diary entry" (unofficial translation)
The Starry Night and the Lonely Two (unofficial translation of 星降りの夜とさみしいふたり)
Diethard Bougainvillea's If (unofficial translation of ディートフリート・ブーゲンビリアIf) The Tailor and the Auto-Memories Doll (unofficial translation of 仕立て屋と自動手記人形)
Tellsis (Nunkish) translation:
Last line of Violet's final letter to GilbertInsights on the movie:
Audio commentary notes:
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