Volu 1 Extra 1: Will
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Last Will and Testant
Dear Mr. Wilhelm Schultz,
Hello, Wil.
Am I really dead?
If you are reading this and I am not dead, there has been a terrible mistake. Please fold up this letter, place it back in the envelope, and send it back to or bury it in your suitcase.
Oh, but you might be confused if I just end things here, so please read on a little more. (Until the end of the first page.)
This letter is the last will and testant of Allison Whittington. .
Recently, there were a series of aeroplane-related accidents at a certain Confederation Air Force base. Fifteen pilots lost their lives in the span of three days, and it was suggested that asures be taken to lessen the grief of the bereaved.
So the Air Force command center has issued an order to every pilot to write a last will and testant, whether they are in combat or not. They say that the command center will keep the letters and send them to the bereaved when the pilot’s death has been confird.
So people had wills written even before the accidents, but this ti, it is mandatory. Orders are orders. I am no exception, even though I am not part of a combat unit.
Most pilots say that they are writing to their family, friends, and as many people as they can. But I do not have a single person to call ‘family’ in the normal sense of the word. Even Grandmother Mut is no longer with us. So my will is for you and you alone, Wilhelm Schultz.
Let confirm once again.
Am I really dead? Not stranded or missing in action, but truly dead, corpse and all?
If not, as I wrote earlier, this letter ends here.
* * *
This is the second page.
So I am dead after all.
This feels very strange. Right now I am alive to write this will(obviously, I could not write it if I were dead), but by the ti you read this, I will no longer be in this world. This feels very strange.
Incidentally, how did I die?
Was it an aeroplane accident after all? Or did war break out without warning? I pray with all my heart that I did not go out like a fool by slipping on a banana peel and hitting my head.
Although I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore, now that I am gone.
Let continue.
Wil. I loved you.
Not as family or a friend who was with you for years. I, the woman nad Allison Whittington, loved you, the man nad Wilhelm Schultz. For a very long ti. I do not know when I first fell in love with you. But I have loved you for a very long ti.
When we turned twelve, you entered secondary school to study, and I entered Roxche’s Air Force Academy to fulfill my dreams of flying. So we could no longer be together like before.
Maybe that was why my feelings only grew stronger. I love you so much, Wil.
I want to be with you forever. I want to see things with you, visit places with you, sleep with you, wake up with you(I’m sorry, but please wake up), spend ti with you, grow up with you, and grow old with you.
I suppose I should write in the past tense, now.
I wanted to be with you. I wanted to see things with you, visit places with you, sleep with you, wake up with you(I’m sorry, but I wanted you to wake up), spend ti with you, grow up with you, and grow old with you.
Sothing just occurred to . ‘Was I able to confess my feelings to Wil, who reads this letter, while I was still alive?’
If I told you that I loved you, told you many tis how much I loved you, and you thought I was an annoyance—and if you began to treat differently because of that…
That thought scares more than death.
But if you told that you loved too, I would be so happy. —Would have been.
As I write, I am trying to picture you reading this letter.
When this letter reaches you, what kind of person will you be? The Wil I know now? The Wil I’d wanted to know for a very long ti? Or…
I do not know for certain, but I am sure that, no matter who you are now, I am very very upset that I can no longer be by your side.
I have decided. Next ti we et, I will tell you that I love you. That I love you very much. With confidence. I might be too scared to say it, but I will confess my feelings. I have written them down here—there is no reason I cannot say it in person. I am the pilot who landed an aeroplane alone on her first try.
I do not know when it will be, but I pray with all my heart that I have already confessed my feelings to you, Wil, by the ti you read this letter.
I think I will be visiting the area soon for a transport mission. I hatched a plan to find out when your sumr break starts and arrive at your school with my comrades, making a landing on the grounds. Without warning. I am planning an adventure that will change our relationship forever in that short period of ti. Tell , did it work?
Wil. Wilhelm Schultz.
I have so much to convey to you. So much gratitude. I am embarrassed to say it in person(although I suppose that is impossible by now anyway) so I will write them all now.
Thank you for staying with , even though I called you rude things like ‘underling’ from the mont we t.
Now that I think about it, a part of was afraid of losing my father and leaving my familiar ho to live in an orphanage. Even though I had made up my mind to be strong.
I decided to be strong. I decided not to cry. That was how I went up in front of the others, but I was actually very scared. I was so happy that you were my underling—no, trustworthy subordinate. —Actually, no. I am sorry. I apologize. Wil, you are infinitely more precious to than any ‘trustworthy subordinate’ could ever hope to be.
When I lived in the Capital District, other children used to tease because of my unusual hair and eye color(although I made sure to pay them back with flying kicks). But when we first t, you said this to , Wil.
“Allison. Your hair is so pretty because it sparkles in the sunlight.”
“Allison. Your eyes are so pretty because they look like they’re reflecting the sky.”
I was too shocked to give you a proper reply then, Wil, but in truth I was very, truly happy. I will rember those words to my dying day. (Will have rembered.) Thank you.
You were always so kind, Wil. You always joined in on my sches, got in trouble with if we got caught, and were punished together as well.
I still treasure the four years we spent at the Future House, having all sorts of adventures(getting into trouble?) together. Thank you.
When Grandmother Mut passed away, I was despondent that I could not make it in ti to say goodbye to her. But you sat silently by my side and let cry into your shoulder. I was very sad, but thanks to you I did not end up sobbing in front of many people. That would have been unsightly.
It had been a long ti since we t, then, but I was so happy to see that you had not changed a bit. Thank you.
It is nightti now.
There are no flights tomorrow. So I am sitting alone in the ss to write this will. Whenever I write to you, the other mbers from my unit rush over and make a fuss, asking to show them. But no one is rushing to now. The friend(female) who dropped by to get hot water for her thermos also just left with a wave.
It is a very quiet night.
Do you rember how you once asked , ‘Why do you sound so formal in your letters, Allison?’? I am writing formally to you now all alone, still not rembering the answer. I wish I had your mory, Wil. I hope I rember before I die.
How did I die…?
Although I am alive right now.
I suppose there is no use wondering about it now.
Wil, I have one final request.
After I die—in other words, after you read this letter—
For one year, until this season returns, think of sotis as you live.
When you see sothing beautiful or when you are moved by sothing, please—if only for a second—rember how I wished I could be with you for those monts. Please turn to look for .
And once a year has passed… please move forward. Enjoy your life.
Find a wonderful person to treasure and love with all your heart.
And live happily ever after with the person you love.
If, like Grandmother once said, death is just a deep, deep sleep, please forgive for going to sleep first by myself.
I do not need to wake up.
You do not need to wake up.
Thank you. Goodbye, Wil.
Allison Whittington
P.S. I have just cut off a piece of myself and am enclosing it in this letter. Whenever the urge strikes you, please look at it as you hold it up against the blue sky.
May your feelings be the sa as mine. May they be eternal. Forever and always.
Allison
* * *
“What… is this…?” Whispered a brown-haired girl, her hands trembling as she finished the letter before her. She was in her mid-teens, and was standing at the door to a bedroom finished with brick and wood.
The room was filled with morning light. And sprawled out on the bed surrounded by simple furniture was a woman in blue pajamas. Her long blond hair concealed her head, which jutted off the mattress. There was a thin, wrinkled blanket over her, and she was completely still. Almost like an abandoned corpse.
“…So what was it, Lillia? A report…? …What does it say?” The corpse asked sleepily.
“Huh? …Er.”
The girl nad Lillia held back her trembling and folded the letter back along the clear creases. Then she pushed it into an envelope on the cabinet, so old that the ink on it had smudged into a blur.
“…”
But the letter would not fit. There must have been sothing at the bottom of the envelope. In the end, the letter stuck out several centiters from the opening.
Lillia placed that enveloped into a newer, larger envelope. The words on it were clear. Ms. Allison Schultz—the occupant of the bed—and her address and apartnt number. There was also a large red box stamped on the side: ‘Returned due to overdue storage: Air Force Command Center’.
“Well… it’s from the military, so I thought maybe I shouldn’t look after all. I an, what if it’s a military secret? I opened it, but I didn’t read it.” Lillia lied cautiously. The owner of the bed remained lying on her stomach, still half-asleep.
“…Okay?”
“I’ll just put it in the cabinet here. It wasn’t an express delivery, so I don’t think it’s an ergency. Read it when you feel like it.”
“Okay. I’m gonna sleep so more. Leave so food…”
“All right. Sweet dreams.”
Lillia placed the envelope into the cabinet and stepped into the hall, quietly shutting the door.
Left alone in the room, Allison lay on her bed and murmured in her sleep.
“Grandma… Wil… let’s play… We got an aweso new aeroplane… let’s fly together…”
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