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“How are you doing these days, Heiner?”
The doctor, who had entered through a white curtain, sat down next to Heiner and asked. He answered bluntly.
“It’s the same as usual.”
“Really? It looks a little different to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s just strange.”
The doctor chuckled and pulled the needle out of Heiner's arm. Heiner twisted his arm a few times, feeling familiar, and then stood up.
It was a drug treatment to suppress emotions. He was not sure if it really worked, but it was a mandatory course for all trainees.
Heiner stared at the empty syringe for a moment, then nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
“Heiner.”
"Yes."
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
"Yes?"
The doctor didn't answer Heiner's question immediately, but paused. He slowly opened his mouth, gazing at a distant location, not at Heiner.
"I've worked here for twelve years. In all that time, I've never seen a single... trainee who ended up happy. The very act of hoping for something is poison to you all."
Heiner looked at the doctor, his bewilderment hidden. He was one of the few adults who treated trainees with dignity, but he wasn't the kind of person to suddenly say something like that.
“It means take it easy.”
The doctor, with his back to the white curtain, smiled faintly. Heiner didn't answer, just lowered his eyes. Nothing could be said hastily here.
The doctor was found hanged the next day.
The doctor's body was carried off the island. Born of lower-class nobility, he never married, retaining his surname, and returned to his family.
If the doctor had been discovered by the instructors first, they would have been replaced without even knowing he was dead. Fortunately or unfortunately, however, it was a fourth-year trainee who discovered the doctor's body.
And then one day, the trainee disappeared. No one brought up the topic of his absence. Nothing had changed.
"The very act of wishing for something is poison to you," Heiner sometimes recalled the doctor's words.
The seasons changed twice. Winter, with its cold snap, marked the beginning of the semi-annual solitary confinement training.
In reality, it was a bit of a stretch to call it training. It was simply three days of solitary confinement.
In solitary confinement, there's no light, no one to talk to, and nothing to read. After a certain period of time in a space where new information is cut off, the human mind begins to weaken.
Brainwashing training at this point allowed trainees to absorb the information like a sponge. They would perceive it as information they had "come up with" on their own, rather than information "incoming" from outside sources.
Therefore, all trainees were somewhat brainwashed. This is why there was little questioning or resistance to the anti-human rights regime on the island.
Heiner was no different. Even as he gazed upon the Margrave's magnificent mansion, he never considered the gap unreasonable or unfair.
It was after seeing that child that Heiner first felt miserable about his own situation.
You live so pure, noble, and beautiful, but why am I like this? I didn't want to be born this way. Me, me too.
I wish I had been born into a decent family.
So I want to try talking to you casually. I'm sure you'll smile kindly and accept it. We could even have a longer conversation...
The end of his thoughts always led to the harsh reality.
She was the only daughter of Margrave Dietrich, a powerful ruler of the fertile southern territories, while he was an orphan, one of the countless chess pieces who died in training camp.
The more he thought about her, the more low and unhappy he became.
Nevertheless, in that solitary cell, Heiner thought of the child constantly.
There was nothing else to think about. That was all. In that lonely, cold room, he thought about her again and again. He ruminated over and over again on a piano piece whose title he didn't even know.
His sense of reality gradually dulled. Something was being created, destroyed, and reassembled again.
In the boy's mind, curled up in the corner of his cell, the little girl from Rosenberg knew him.
The noble girl greeted him with a smile. She even asked how he was doing and if his injuries were okay.
It was funny. Heiner didn't even recognize the kid's voice.
The girl was wearing a white one-piece dress that reached her knees. She held her hands behind her back, tilted her head slightly, and stared intently up at him. Her small lips moved.
'What do you like most these days?'
Heiner answered blankly, dumbfounded.
'The piano...'
'Piano? Can you play the piano?'
'No, I like piano music.'
'Really? I'm learning piano! What's your favorite song?'
'Anything.'
'Anything?'
'Anything.'
'Shall I play you something?'
The doctor, who had entered through a white curtain, sat down next to Heiner and asked. He answered bluntly.
“It’s the same as usual.”
“Really? It looks a little different to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s just strange.”
The doctor chuckled and pulled the needle out of Heiner's arm. Heiner twisted his arm a few times, feeling familiar, and then stood up.
It was a drug treatment to suppress emotions. He was not sure if it really worked, but it was a mandatory course for all trainees.
Heiner stared at the empty syringe for a moment, then nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
“Heiner.”
"Yes."
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
"Yes?"
The doctor didn't answer Heiner's question immediately, but paused. He slowly opened his mouth, gazing at a distant location, not at Heiner.
"I've worked here for twelve years. In all that time, I've never seen a single... trainee who ended up happy. The very act of hoping for something is poison to you all."
Heiner looked at the doctor, his bewilderment hidden. He was one of the few adults who treated trainees with dignity, but he wasn't the kind of person to suddenly say something like that.
“It means take it easy.”
The doctor, with his back to the white curtain, smiled faintly. Heiner didn't answer, just lowered his eyes. Nothing could be said hastily here.
The doctor was found hanged the next day.
***
The doctor's body was carried off the island. Born of lower-class nobility, he never married, retaining his surname, and returned to his family.
If the doctor had been discovered by the instructors first, they would have been replaced without even knowing he was dead. Fortunately or unfortunately, however, it was a fourth-year trainee who discovered the doctor's body.
And then one day, the trainee disappeared. No one brought up the topic of his absence. Nothing had changed.
"The very act of wishing for something is poison to you," Heiner sometimes recalled the doctor's words.
The seasons changed twice. Winter, with its cold snap, marked the beginning of the semi-annual solitary confinement training.
In reality, it was a bit of a stretch to call it training. It was simply three days of solitary confinement.
In solitary confinement, there's no light, no one to talk to, and nothing to read. After a certain period of time in a space where new information is cut off, the human mind begins to weaken.
Brainwashing training at this point allowed trainees to absorb the information like a sponge. They would perceive it as information they had "come up with" on their own, rather than information "incoming" from outside sources.
Therefore, all trainees were somewhat brainwashed. This is why there was little questioning or resistance to the anti-human rights regime on the island.
Heiner was no different. Even as he gazed upon the Margrave's magnificent mansion, he never considered the gap unreasonable or unfair.
It was after seeing that child that Heiner first felt miserable about his own situation.
You live so pure, noble, and beautiful, but why am I like this? I didn't want to be born this way. Me, me too.
I wish I had been born into a decent family.
So I want to try talking to you casually. I'm sure you'll smile kindly and accept it. We could even have a longer conversation...
The end of his thoughts always led to the harsh reality.
She was the only daughter of Margrave Dietrich, a powerful ruler of the fertile southern territories, while he was an orphan, one of the countless chess pieces who died in training camp.
The more he thought about her, the more low and unhappy he became.
Nevertheless, in that solitary cell, Heiner thought of the child constantly.
There was nothing else to think about. That was all. In that lonely, cold room, he thought about her again and again. He ruminated over and over again on a piano piece whose title he didn't even know.
His sense of reality gradually dulled. Something was being created, destroyed, and reassembled again.
In the boy's mind, curled up in the corner of his cell, the little girl from Rosenberg knew him.
The noble girl greeted him with a smile. She even asked how he was doing and if his injuries were okay.
It was funny. Heiner didn't even recognize the kid's voice.
The girl was wearing a white one-piece dress that reached her knees. She held her hands behind her back, tilted her head slightly, and stared intently up at him. Her small lips moved.
'What do you like most these days?'
Heiner answered blankly, dumbfounded.
'The piano...'
'Piano? Can you play the piano?'
'No, I like piano music.'
'Really? I'm learning piano! What's your favorite song?'
'Anything.'
'Anything?'
'Anything.'
'Shall I play you something?'
'...good.'
A girl hopped up to the piano and sat down in a chair. Heiner followed her. With each step, the surrounding scenery shifted and changed. White curtains swayed in the breeze. He knew this place.
It was the practice room he could see through the curtains of the window.
'I'm sure you'll like this song too.'
The girl, speaking with a bright smile, turned her head to the piano. Her pale hands slowly fell across the keys.
A calm, beautiful melody blossomed from her fingertips. It was the song that had flowed from that broken music box long ago.
The scent of roses from the garden drifted in through the open window.
There, Heiner wasn't hiding in the grass. He was standing next to the child. He was very close.
Up close—he could see her shining blond hair, her soft cheeks, her fingers gliding over the keys.
There he was, her only audience.
As if that kid were his only pianist.
Heiner woke up from his dream.
***
"People have different uses, but God didn't create useless people. But orphans like you and your classmates, criminals, and beggars, don't contribute anything and instead just destroy society. Don't you think that's absurd?"
...
"For these people, resocialization is absolutely necessary, and this training center is here to do just that. To transform useless beings like you into people of value."
...
"Then, the question remains: 'what exactly' is the purpose? Let's move on. There's a common misconception among pacifists: 'Peace is the absence of war.'"
...
"That's wrong. War is peace itself. Having the power to defend your homeland, making it untouchable through war, and achieving a long and stable peace. That's true peace."
...
"So, ultimately, you become very useful people for the peace of your homeland. Your country exists to help you achieve that. You have a duty to be grateful and obey it."
The instructor spoke of the words of the subversive elements who were grateful and disobedient.
Those who, unable to withstand torture and interrogation while engaged in espionage, disclose confidential information. Those who distribute subversive documents to the public. Those who organize illegal organizations. Those who instigate or participate in strikes.
Heiner spent a long time listening to how foolish, vicious, and unscrupulous they were. During that time, he took several oaths and signed several pledges.
The oil lamp flickered a couple of times. The instructor's face was half-shadowed, only the corners of his mouth visible. Heiner sat on the hard metal chair, fiddling with his hands.
Dang─.
Dang─.
Dang─.
Outside, a spire clock struck the hour. Individuals could not check the time here. Information could only be obtained from outside sources.
The oil lamp flickered again. The instructor smiled and spoke to him.
“It’s 2 o’clock. You’ve worked hard.”
***
It was drizzling that day.
Wet grass crunched beneath his feet. Heiner pushed through the lush foliage and walked toward the white building.
Today, the practice room windows were closed, so he had to get really close and put his ear up to hear the performance. He got so close that it seemed a bit reckless.
A single layer of glass played and flowed into his ears.
It was a somewhat lonely melody, perfect for rainy weather.
Heiner leaned against the window frame and gazed blankly inside. The child had her eyes closed. Her profile as she played the song looked incredibly small and lonely.
Even though he knew it was just an illusion caused by the music, he couldn't take his eyes off that profile.
Heiner felt an absurd sense of kinship. An absurd, truly absurd sense of kinship. He couldn't tell if it was the music that had captivated him or if it was she who had captivated him.
Cold raindrops fell from the sky, and an unending melody rang in his ears.
Heiner paused for a moment as he tried to remove his hand from the windowsill. Beneath his rolled-up sleeve, a needle mark remained on his forearm.
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