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Heiner looked at it, then raised her head again. The performance had already ended, and she was turning the page.
Unlike her, in the warm and cozy room, he stood in the cold rain. A chill ran through his body, accompanied by a harsh sense of reality.
Ha. A soft laugh escaped him. What on earth was he thinking?
At best, that child's suffering might be something like having a hard time practicing the piano, falling and scraping her knee, or fighting with a friend.
No one would dare administer strange drugs to that child, or use violence against her, or confine her to solitary confinement.
What he was experiencing was far beyond anything she could have imagined. Perhaps she didn't even know there was such a thing as a training camp.
It was a well-known fact that the Marquis adored his only daughter. He must have raised her by giving her only the best things.
There's no need for a precious young lady to know about trainees being trained underwater.
Who on earth would feel empathy for someone on such a topic?
It was clear that he had been out of his mind since he'd just been released from solitary confinement. Hearing that kind of music in the midst of all this, however, had left him feeling disoriented.
'Still...'
He clenched his fists tightly.
‘If you knew of my existence...’
In Heiner's mind, she was something religious. What exactly it was, he couldn't quite put into words.
But if it were him, he thought she'd feel sorry for him. He thought she'd empathize. He thought she'd be angry.
Because she always looked holy and pure in front of the piano.
Like the Saint Marianne depicted on the mural in the banquet hall of the Rosenberg mansion...
Suddenly, her hand touched the keyboard. A low note emanated through the closed window. The next song began.
The raindrops grew heavier. Heiner stood motionless for a long time in the steady drizzle.
Songs whose titles he didn't even know seemed like devils stealing souls. Or like Christ, saving abandoned souls.
If someone asks about religion, this kid will come to mind.
Like any other person praying earnestly to an unreachable god.
Even though he is thrown back into the cold reality when the performance is over...
Time passed like flowing water.
Heiner, who had never missed a single dinner with the Marquis, graduated from training camp with unprecedented success and immediately enlisted in the Special Operations Unit.
After completing two missions at home, he was assigned to a mission abroad: assassinate a high-ranking member of the newly established revolutionary party in Demadonia and extract secrets.
The task force had set a minimum of one and a half years, a maximum of two, for this task. It meant he wouldn't be able to return to Padania for the time being.
Heiner looked at her one last time before leaving. His legs, now long and thick, strode across the garden. Over the past four years, he had become a full-blown young man.
Her practice schedule remained unchanged. She was always there, and he always found her.
It was a clear day without a single cloud.
Heiner held a bouquet of statice and hydrangeas in his arms. It was the first bouquet he had ever purchased from a flower shop on the street within the estate.
It was something he couldn't even dream of as a trainee. While there were still limitations, compared to when he was trapped on the island, he was able to move relatively freely.
A long gust of wind blew from behind Heiner. His long, black hair, reaching down to the nape of his neck, blew.
He looked up and saw the end of the wind blowing. The window of the white building was half-open.
Heiner approached the building, keeping his presence low. Through the open window, a familiar, dazzling figure appeared.
She tilted her head slightly as she marked something on the sheet music. Her nose was slightly wrinkled, as if she was thinking about something.
Heiner stood by the window, taking in the sight. The curved silhouettes of the sun-drenched figures sparkled.
Over the past four years, the girl had grown. Her body had changed slightly, but her delicate features and baby bump remained, so at first glance she looked like a child.
She pressed and released the keys repeatedly, seemingly judging the notes by adding slightly different chords.
Soft blond hair flowed along the angled neck and shoulders. Heiner stared at the scene, half-longing, half-bitter.
“His lifelong wish was to join the spy agency.”
Heiner had fulfilled someone's lifelong wish. And now, he was ready to enlist in the military, the dream of every trainee.
To do so, he had to risk his life and prove his skills and loyalty. It was the only way for someone from the bottom to rise to the top.
If I could rise up like that, if I could become a slightly better person, if I could become even a little bit like her─.
Heiner quietly licked his lips. At the same time, a key was pressed, producing a piano sound.
Can I talk to you?
Can I stop just looking at it from afar?
Could you let me know that there is a person called me, that there are people like me...?
Heiner's gray eyes trembled faintly. He closed them and opened them again. When they reopened, his expressions were almost completely erased.
Heiner, his usual cold expression back, looked at the bouquet in his hand. He slowly placed it on the windowsill. His hands were remarkably cautious, a contrast to his cold face.
Her fingers fell back onto the keys. The chords, which had been reworked countless times, rang out in harmony.
The blue petals swayed to the melody of waves.
Time passed like flowing water.
Heiner continued to travel abroad, completing three short-term and two long-term missions. In the process, he rose to become a member of the Margrave's inner circle.
Of course, due to the nature of the special operations unit, this wasn't official. Heiner always worked in the shadows. Only those involved knew of his exploits.
Every time he returned to his homeland, Heiner was invited to the Margrave's mansion. He received congratulations and words of encouragement for his success, and they shared dinners together.
And he always went to look for that kid.
That kid.
She had grown so much that she could no longer be called that. The chubby cheeks and childlike cuteness he remembered were gone, and she had taken on the appearance of a full-fledged lady.
Her once-delicate features exuded a refined and elegant air. Her once-small body, too, displayed mature curves.
The noble lady of Rosenberg entered society a few years ago and was courted by countless men, women, and children alike.
She also became a true pianist, winning prizes in several international competitions and giving solo recitals.
To match her growth, the practice room was moved inside the mansion. Heiner only learned of this on the day he returned from his second short-term assignment.
Because of that, he hadn't seen her once in the past eight months.
“Hey, did you see that?”
His colleague Jackson whistled and nudged Heiner.
"The Marquis's daughter. She just passed by. Right over there."
Heiner nodded absentmindedly, uncharacteristically. He, too, saw it. A woman, leading three maids, walking with a straight neck like a swan.
Jackson said in admiration.
"Even after just a quick glance, it's just as rumored. Can't you tell that we're a completely different breed from the start?"
Even though he knew it well, Jackson's words struck him with a new intensity. Heiner responded in a mumbling tone.
"...I know."
It was the first time he'd seen her outside the practice room. Heiner stared down the hallway she'd passed for a long time.
Now, if it weren't for this stroke of luck, he wouldn't even be able to see her. And even that luck would only last a fleeting moment.
Suddenly, a feeling of emptiness washed over him like a tidal wave.
'What the hell am I doing?'
In fact, it was a thought that constantly crossed his mind while he was carrying out the operation. What on earth are they doing? What on earth are they doing this for?
During his missions, he was wounded countless times, faced several near-death experiences, and lost many comrades. As these experiences continued, Heiner felt something inside him being eroded.
And yet, the only reason he held on was because of Annette Rosenberg, that one woman.
Because of that one woman.
Because he wants to stand next to that woman.
'Is that really possible?'
She was the most beautiful and noble lady in Padania. No matter how hard he struggled, he would never reach her feet.
As Jackson said, they were "different from birth." Something that couldn't be changed through effort. He began to doubt whether these actions were truly meaningful.
“Oh, oh, oh? Look at this kid? Can’t take his eyes off her.”
Jackson's sly voice brought Heiner back to his senses. He cursed inwardly at his own carelessness, then answered absentmindedly.
“I just checked the face of the Young Lady Marquis.”
"You're talking nonsense. Miss Rosenberg is truly beautiful. Even the world-famous Heiner couldn't take his eyes off her, huh?"
Jackson chuckled and continued to tease him. Heiner remained silent, as if it wasn't worth responding.
“Hey, give it a try.”
Jackson spoke to him, wiggling his eyebrows. Heiner frowned.
“Stop talking nonsense.”
"That handsome brat pretends not to know. Miss Rosenberg is a huge romantic. And that's because of her looks. That's why she not only dates men of high status. Despite her looks, she's stubborn, and even the Marquis can't interfere with her romantic affairs, haha. Of course, she'll definitely marry a man of similar status."
“...Even if it’s a casual date, they’re probably at least middle class.”
"Hey, hey. If we just enlist officially, we'll be middle-class. If only we'd just hide the fact that we came from a training camp... haha."
Even as he dismissed it as nonsense, Heiner's eyes remained fixed on the end of the hallway. Petty thoughts swirled through his mind, wondering what kind of people she'd met.
The pale pink dress, already gone, lingered before his eyes. Heiner bit his lower lip, then released it. A soft curse escaped his lips.
“Fuck.”
“Even if you cheer me on, it’s still bullshit.”
Unlike her, in the warm and cozy room, he stood in the cold rain. A chill ran through his body, accompanied by a harsh sense of reality.
Ha. A soft laugh escaped him. What on earth was he thinking?
At best, that child's suffering might be something like having a hard time practicing the piano, falling and scraping her knee, or fighting with a friend.
No one would dare administer strange drugs to that child, or use violence against her, or confine her to solitary confinement.
What he was experiencing was far beyond anything she could have imagined. Perhaps she didn't even know there was such a thing as a training camp.
It was a well-known fact that the Marquis adored his only daughter. He must have raised her by giving her only the best things.
There's no need for a precious young lady to know about trainees being trained underwater.
Who on earth would feel empathy for someone on such a topic?
It was clear that he had been out of his mind since he'd just been released from solitary confinement. Hearing that kind of music in the midst of all this, however, had left him feeling disoriented.
'Still...'
He clenched his fists tightly.
‘If you knew of my existence...’
In Heiner's mind, she was something religious. What exactly it was, he couldn't quite put into words.
But if it were him, he thought she'd feel sorry for him. He thought she'd empathize. He thought she'd be angry.
Because she always looked holy and pure in front of the piano.
Like the Saint Marianne depicted on the mural in the banquet hall of the Rosenberg mansion...
Suddenly, her hand touched the keyboard. A low note emanated through the closed window. The next song began.
The raindrops grew heavier. Heiner stood motionless for a long time in the steady drizzle.
Songs whose titles he didn't even know seemed like devils stealing souls. Or like Christ, saving abandoned souls.
If someone asks about religion, this kid will come to mind.
Like any other person praying earnestly to an unreachable god.
Even though he is thrown back into the cold reality when the performance is over...
***
Time passed like flowing water.
Heiner, who had never missed a single dinner with the Marquis, graduated from training camp with unprecedented success and immediately enlisted in the Special Operations Unit.
After completing two missions at home, he was assigned to a mission abroad: assassinate a high-ranking member of the newly established revolutionary party in Demadonia and extract secrets.
The task force had set a minimum of one and a half years, a maximum of two, for this task. It meant he wouldn't be able to return to Padania for the time being.
Heiner looked at her one last time before leaving. His legs, now long and thick, strode across the garden. Over the past four years, he had become a full-blown young man.
Her practice schedule remained unchanged. She was always there, and he always found her.
It was a clear day without a single cloud.
Heiner held a bouquet of statice and hydrangeas in his arms. It was the first bouquet he had ever purchased from a flower shop on the street within the estate.
It was something he couldn't even dream of as a trainee. While there were still limitations, compared to when he was trapped on the island, he was able to move relatively freely.
A long gust of wind blew from behind Heiner. His long, black hair, reaching down to the nape of his neck, blew.
He looked up and saw the end of the wind blowing. The window of the white building was half-open.
Heiner approached the building, keeping his presence low. Through the open window, a familiar, dazzling figure appeared.
She tilted her head slightly as she marked something on the sheet music. Her nose was slightly wrinkled, as if she was thinking about something.
Heiner stood by the window, taking in the sight. The curved silhouettes of the sun-drenched figures sparkled.
Over the past four years, the girl had grown. Her body had changed slightly, but her delicate features and baby bump remained, so at first glance she looked like a child.
She pressed and released the keys repeatedly, seemingly judging the notes by adding slightly different chords.
Soft blond hair flowed along the angled neck and shoulders. Heiner stared at the scene, half-longing, half-bitter.
“His lifelong wish was to join the spy agency.”
Heiner had fulfilled someone's lifelong wish. And now, he was ready to enlist in the military, the dream of every trainee.
To do so, he had to risk his life and prove his skills and loyalty. It was the only way for someone from the bottom to rise to the top.
If I could rise up like that, if I could become a slightly better person, if I could become even a little bit like her─.
Heiner quietly licked his lips. At the same time, a key was pressed, producing a piano sound.
Can I talk to you?
Can I stop just looking at it from afar?
Could you let me know that there is a person called me, that there are people like me...?
Heiner's gray eyes trembled faintly. He closed them and opened them again. When they reopened, his expressions were almost completely erased.
Heiner, his usual cold expression back, looked at the bouquet in his hand. He slowly placed it on the windowsill. His hands were remarkably cautious, a contrast to his cold face.
Her fingers fell back onto the keys. The chords, which had been reworked countless times, rang out in harmony.
The blue petals swayed to the melody of waves.
***
Time passed like flowing water.
Heiner continued to travel abroad, completing three short-term and two long-term missions. In the process, he rose to become a member of the Margrave's inner circle.
Of course, due to the nature of the special operations unit, this wasn't official. Heiner always worked in the shadows. Only those involved knew of his exploits.
Every time he returned to his homeland, Heiner was invited to the Margrave's mansion. He received congratulations and words of encouragement for his success, and they shared dinners together.
And he always went to look for that kid.
That kid.
She had grown so much that she could no longer be called that. The chubby cheeks and childlike cuteness he remembered were gone, and she had taken on the appearance of a full-fledged lady.
Her once-delicate features exuded a refined and elegant air. Her once-small body, too, displayed mature curves.
The noble lady of Rosenberg entered society a few years ago and was courted by countless men, women, and children alike.
She also became a true pianist, winning prizes in several international competitions and giving solo recitals.
To match her growth, the practice room was moved inside the mansion. Heiner only learned of this on the day he returned from his second short-term assignment.
Because of that, he hadn't seen her once in the past eight months.
“Hey, did you see that?”
His colleague Jackson whistled and nudged Heiner.
"The Marquis's daughter. She just passed by. Right over there."
Heiner nodded absentmindedly, uncharacteristically. He, too, saw it. A woman, leading three maids, walking with a straight neck like a swan.
Jackson said in admiration.
"Even after just a quick glance, it's just as rumored. Can't you tell that we're a completely different breed from the start?"
Even though he knew it well, Jackson's words struck him with a new intensity. Heiner responded in a mumbling tone.
"...I know."
It was the first time he'd seen her outside the practice room. Heiner stared down the hallway she'd passed for a long time.
Now, if it weren't for this stroke of luck, he wouldn't even be able to see her. And even that luck would only last a fleeting moment.
Suddenly, a feeling of emptiness washed over him like a tidal wave.
'What the hell am I doing?'
In fact, it was a thought that constantly crossed his mind while he was carrying out the operation. What on earth are they doing? What on earth are they doing this for?
During his missions, he was wounded countless times, faced several near-death experiences, and lost many comrades. As these experiences continued, Heiner felt something inside him being eroded.
And yet, the only reason he held on was because of Annette Rosenberg, that one woman.
Because of that one woman.
Because he wants to stand next to that woman.
'Is that really possible?'
She was the most beautiful and noble lady in Padania. No matter how hard he struggled, he would never reach her feet.
As Jackson said, they were "different from birth." Something that couldn't be changed through effort. He began to doubt whether these actions were truly meaningful.
“Oh, oh, oh? Look at this kid? Can’t take his eyes off her.”
Jackson's sly voice brought Heiner back to his senses. He cursed inwardly at his own carelessness, then answered absentmindedly.
“I just checked the face of the Young Lady Marquis.”
"You're talking nonsense. Miss Rosenberg is truly beautiful. Even the world-famous Heiner couldn't take his eyes off her, huh?"
Jackson chuckled and continued to tease him. Heiner remained silent, as if it wasn't worth responding.
“Hey, give it a try.”
Jackson spoke to him, wiggling his eyebrows. Heiner frowned.
“Stop talking nonsense.”
"That handsome brat pretends not to know. Miss Rosenberg is a huge romantic. And that's because of her looks. That's why she not only dates men of high status. Despite her looks, she's stubborn, and even the Marquis can't interfere with her romantic affairs, haha. Of course, she'll definitely marry a man of similar status."
“...Even if it’s a casual date, they’re probably at least middle class.”
"Hey, hey. If we just enlist officially, we'll be middle-class. If only we'd just hide the fact that we came from a training camp... haha."
Even as he dismissed it as nonsense, Heiner's eyes remained fixed on the end of the hallway. Petty thoughts swirled through his mind, wondering what kind of people she'd met.
The pale pink dress, already gone, lingered before his eyes. Heiner bit his lower lip, then released it. A soft curse escaped his lips.
“Fuck.”
“Even if you cheer me on, it’s still bullshit.”
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