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On a sunny spring afternoon, Heiner climbed the hill toward Sunset Cliffs. A row of houses with colorful roofs stood between the cliff and a road.
Among them, Heiner recognized the familiar house with its sky-blue roof. He took the key she had given him from his bosom and unlocked the front door.
His shoulders were tense as he opened the door. He'd come here as soon as March arrived, as promised to Annette, but he couldn't quite tell what she'd say.
Should I just quit everything?
Should I just live as a complete stranger?
Or, should I just say that it's okay?
He intended to follow whatever Annette said. If she wanted to break up, he would. If she didn't want to see him for the rest of her life, he would never appear before her again.
William, the fairytale's villain, ultimately found a happy ending despite having to give up the flower. But reality wasn't a fairytale.
He will not have a happy ending.
The white gate opened with a clang. The sound felt like a final sentence, and Heiner took a deep breath. A belated wind followed him like a lingering regret.
Still, I wish you would tell me it was okay. That everything was okay...
Everything will be okay...
He stepped inside the fence and closed the gate. His black boots stepped along the small path between the green lawns.
After walking only a few steps, Heiner suddenly stopped. He raised his head and stared into space.
From somewhere, a faint but familiar melody was being carried by the wind.
Heiner listened intently. Convinced that what he had heard was correct, he opened his mouth and let out a small gasp. His pupils fluttered in disbelief.
That was the song.
It was the melody of that music box.
Heiner, as if possessed, took another step forward. He could barely follow the piano melody, which was coming from the backyard.
It was a performance with a slightly slow tempo and a strangely broken note, like a child playing. Heiner realized a beat too late that this was due to her injured left hand.
Suddenly, he remembered their childhood days as if they were old dreams.
A building so pure white that you dare not even touch it. Melodies drifting through curtains fluttering in the breeze. The soft crunch of grass beneath your feet.
An open window and a large piano. Small hands moving across the keys. A white dress and blond braids. A pretty, lovely girl, like a sugar doll...
Moments that he has suffered from for a very long time, like an illness.
Every night, he drew and redrawn faces he had never seen up close. He imagined and re-imagined voices he never heard.
He even had a petty wish that her blue eyes would pass over him just once.
He even had an excessive desire to have a long talk with that kid.
As he headed toward the backyard, the piano music gradually became clearer. He quietly approached the window. He could see the curtains fluttering inside the open window.
A woman in a white dress sat before a large piano. Sitting by the sunlit window, she was dazzling, as if bathed in light. Her appearance was even more noble than that of a saint, the most sacred of human beings.
Heiner stared at the profile, half-absentminded. It was as if he were cutting a beautiful dream cleanly, like a fantasy, and seeing the image reflected in its cross-section.
So... it was beautiful.
So scary.
It was like going back to his childhood. He felt like he was seeing something he shouldn't be seeing. He took a step back without realizing it.
Rustle.
A branch crunched beneath his feet. Heiner took a sharp, silent breath. At the same time, the piano's sound suddenly stopped.
Sunlight streamed down through the window. The once bright field of vision faded into a hazy afterimage.
The woman turned her head. He instinctively tried to hide, then paused. Inside the room, the piano bench creaked back. He heard shoes approaching the window.
Heiner didn't run away, but stood there, staring blankly into the square window.
'Ah...'
A small girl walked toward him through the hazy, swaying scenery. The sunlight shone brightly on the surface of her golden hair.
Their distance grew closer. With each step, the child grew. From child to girl, from girl to young adult, and from young adult to fully grown woman.
Suddenly, his hazy vision cleared. A man and a woman stood facing each other through an open window. Her blue eyes, a stone's throw away, stared intently at him.
“Heiner.”
In the light, she smiled dazzlingly and called his name.
At that moment, Heiner felt the distant memories that had been shadowing his life begin to recede.
For a brief moment, he forgot all words, all thoughts, all memories. Only the woman before his eyes remained vivid, like a still life.
The woman asked.
“Why aren’t you coming in through the door and staying there?”
“...The performer...”
The man who had once been a boy opened his mouth hesitantly.
“Because I like you playing it.”
And he blurted out the words he wanted to say for a long time. The words he wanted to say for a very long time.
Annette stroked his cheek, seemingly embarrassed. Her expression was one of disbelief. She spoke as if making an excuse.
"Well, my playing is really messed up... It's one of the etudes I played most often when I was young. When you're really learning your technique, you usually start practicing with etudes. I played them until I was sick of it."
“Isn’t the genre of the song you debuted with this time also an etude?”
“Yes, so I’m playing the songs I played when I was younger again.”
He knew most of the songs she'd played when she was younger. Even if he didn't know the titles, he was confident he could recall them all if he heard them.
Heiner confessed impulsively.
“It was when you... were playing that song.”
"Yes?"
“That was the first time I saw you.”
Annette's eyes widened at his words. She looked up at Heiner in surprise, then smiled slightly.
“...I see.”
She asked, muttering as if talking to herself.
“Heiner, do you know the title of this song?”
“...I don’t know.”
Heiner hadn't deliberately looked up the title of this song. The days of admiring Rosenberg's girl were memories he wished to erase.
"This etude is part of a suite called "Africaine des Amor," which consists of several short pieces arranged in a classical style. It's quite old music."
After all, the music box was broken, the girl who was as pure as a saint was gone, and the melody that had twisted his life was nothing but hate.
So, he didn't look up the title of this song.
“My beloved oppressor.”
And after a long journey, he found the answer.
“That’s the title of this song.”
A thin voice put a period to his worn-out question. Heiner gazed blankly at her lips, then muttered.
“... My beloved oppressor.”
It was a title that seemed almost inevitable. Perhaps his fate was sealed the moment he happened to hear the piece in Rosenberg's rose garden.
Annette took a step back from the window and opened her mouth.
"Heiner, I called you because I wanted to play my etude for you. I'm not very flexible with my left hand, so it'll probably be a mess... but still."
Two steps.
"If you can't hear from afar—I just need to be close to you. Even if, by any chance, you can't hear at all...so you can see my hands pressing the keys. Close enough."
Three steps.
“This is my answer.”
Annette slowly sat back down on the piano bench. Her long, slender fingers pressed against the keys. She smiled at him briefly, then began to move her hands.
The performance began.
The music continued at a slightly slower tempo. A gentle, soft melody drifted between them. Heiner listened, one hand on the windowsill.
There he was, her only audience.
As if she were his only pianist.
A beautiful melody gently enveloped him. It was a moment that seemed to last forever. Heiner's lips trembled faintly, as if he were smiling or crying. The depths of his heart rippled uncontrollably.
Annette.
When this life crumbles, you will be the only relic left. You were my entire life. And you will be my only life.
Annette.
You are there, and I am here. There are still a few steps between us, but we can see each other and hear each other. And so, you become a relic to me once again.
Annette, the punishment of my life.
My beautiful shackles.
I love you with all my heart, with all my life...
My beloved oppressor.
Annette, who had been playing, suddenly turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met. Heiner tried to suppress the emotions that were surging.
And he smiled brightly at her.
A wind blew from the distant horizon. White waves crashed against the cliffs, carrying their melody back to the sea. The newly formed waves shone in the sunlight.
The performance continued like that for a long time.
Among them, Heiner recognized the familiar house with its sky-blue roof. He took the key she had given him from his bosom and unlocked the front door.
His shoulders were tense as he opened the door. He'd come here as soon as March arrived, as promised to Annette, but he couldn't quite tell what she'd say.
Should I just quit everything?
Should I just live as a complete stranger?
Or, should I just say that it's okay?
He intended to follow whatever Annette said. If she wanted to break up, he would. If she didn't want to see him for the rest of her life, he would never appear before her again.
William, the fairytale's villain, ultimately found a happy ending despite having to give up the flower. But reality wasn't a fairytale.
He will not have a happy ending.
The white gate opened with a clang. The sound felt like a final sentence, and Heiner took a deep breath. A belated wind followed him like a lingering regret.
Still, I wish you would tell me it was okay. That everything was okay...
Everything will be okay...
He stepped inside the fence and closed the gate. His black boots stepped along the small path between the green lawns.
After walking only a few steps, Heiner suddenly stopped. He raised his head and stared into space.
From somewhere, a faint but familiar melody was being carried by the wind.
Heiner listened intently. Convinced that what he had heard was correct, he opened his mouth and let out a small gasp. His pupils fluttered in disbelief.
That was the song.
It was the melody of that music box.
Heiner, as if possessed, took another step forward. He could barely follow the piano melody, which was coming from the backyard.
It was a performance with a slightly slow tempo and a strangely broken note, like a child playing. Heiner realized a beat too late that this was due to her injured left hand.
Suddenly, he remembered their childhood days as if they were old dreams.
A building so pure white that you dare not even touch it. Melodies drifting through curtains fluttering in the breeze. The soft crunch of grass beneath your feet.
An open window and a large piano. Small hands moving across the keys. A white dress and blond braids. A pretty, lovely girl, like a sugar doll...
Moments that he has suffered from for a very long time, like an illness.
Every night, he drew and redrawn faces he had never seen up close. He imagined and re-imagined voices he never heard.
He even had a petty wish that her blue eyes would pass over him just once.
He even had an excessive desire to have a long talk with that kid.
As he headed toward the backyard, the piano music gradually became clearer. He quietly approached the window. He could see the curtains fluttering inside the open window.
A woman in a white dress sat before a large piano. Sitting by the sunlit window, she was dazzling, as if bathed in light. Her appearance was even more noble than that of a saint, the most sacred of human beings.
Heiner stared at the profile, half-absentminded. It was as if he were cutting a beautiful dream cleanly, like a fantasy, and seeing the image reflected in its cross-section.
So... it was beautiful.
So scary.
It was like going back to his childhood. He felt like he was seeing something he shouldn't be seeing. He took a step back without realizing it.
Rustle.
A branch crunched beneath his feet. Heiner took a sharp, silent breath. At the same time, the piano's sound suddenly stopped.
Sunlight streamed down through the window. The once bright field of vision faded into a hazy afterimage.
The woman turned her head. He instinctively tried to hide, then paused. Inside the room, the piano bench creaked back. He heard shoes approaching the window.
Heiner didn't run away, but stood there, staring blankly into the square window.
'Ah...'
A small girl walked toward him through the hazy, swaying scenery. The sunlight shone brightly on the surface of her golden hair.
Their distance grew closer. With each step, the child grew. From child to girl, from girl to young adult, and from young adult to fully grown woman.
Suddenly, his hazy vision cleared. A man and a woman stood facing each other through an open window. Her blue eyes, a stone's throw away, stared intently at him.
“Heiner.”
In the light, she smiled dazzlingly and called his name.
At that moment, Heiner felt the distant memories that had been shadowing his life begin to recede.
For a brief moment, he forgot all words, all thoughts, all memories. Only the woman before his eyes remained vivid, like a still life.
The woman asked.
“Why aren’t you coming in through the door and staying there?”
“...The performer...”
The man who had once been a boy opened his mouth hesitantly.
“Because I like you playing it.”
And he blurted out the words he wanted to say for a long time. The words he wanted to say for a very long time.
Annette stroked his cheek, seemingly embarrassed. Her expression was one of disbelief. She spoke as if making an excuse.
"Well, my playing is really messed up... It's one of the etudes I played most often when I was young. When you're really learning your technique, you usually start practicing with etudes. I played them until I was sick of it."
“Isn’t the genre of the song you debuted with this time also an etude?”
“Yes, so I’m playing the songs I played when I was younger again.”
He knew most of the songs she'd played when she was younger. Even if he didn't know the titles, he was confident he could recall them all if he heard them.
Heiner confessed impulsively.
“It was when you... were playing that song.”
"Yes?"
“That was the first time I saw you.”
Annette's eyes widened at his words. She looked up at Heiner in surprise, then smiled slightly.
“...I see.”
She asked, muttering as if talking to herself.
“Heiner, do you know the title of this song?”
“...I don’t know.”
Heiner hadn't deliberately looked up the title of this song. The days of admiring Rosenberg's girl were memories he wished to erase.
"This etude is part of a suite called "Africaine des Amor," which consists of several short pieces arranged in a classical style. It's quite old music."
After all, the music box was broken, the girl who was as pure as a saint was gone, and the melody that had twisted his life was nothing but hate.
So, he didn't look up the title of this song.
“My beloved oppressor.”
And after a long journey, he found the answer.
“That’s the title of this song.”
A thin voice put a period to his worn-out question. Heiner gazed blankly at her lips, then muttered.
“... My beloved oppressor.”
It was a title that seemed almost inevitable. Perhaps his fate was sealed the moment he happened to hear the piece in Rosenberg's rose garden.
Annette took a step back from the window and opened her mouth.
"Heiner, I called you because I wanted to play my etude for you. I'm not very flexible with my left hand, so it'll probably be a mess... but still."
Two steps.
"If you can't hear from afar—I just need to be close to you. Even if, by any chance, you can't hear at all...so you can see my hands pressing the keys. Close enough."
Three steps.
“This is my answer.”
Annette slowly sat back down on the piano bench. Her long, slender fingers pressed against the keys. She smiled at him briefly, then began to move her hands.
The performance began.
The music continued at a slightly slower tempo. A gentle, soft melody drifted between them. Heiner listened, one hand on the windowsill.
There he was, her only audience.
As if she were his only pianist.
A beautiful melody gently enveloped him. It was a moment that seemed to last forever. Heiner's lips trembled faintly, as if he were smiling or crying. The depths of his heart rippled uncontrollably.
Annette.
When this life crumbles, you will be the only relic left. You were my entire life. And you will be my only life.
Annette.
You are there, and I am here. There are still a few steps between us, but we can see each other and hear each other. And so, you become a relic to me once again.
Annette, the punishment of my life.
My beautiful shackles.
I love you with all my heart, with all my life...
My beloved oppressor.
Annette, who had been playing, suddenly turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met. Heiner tried to suppress the emotions that were surging.
And he smiled brightly at her.
A wind blew from the distant horizon. White waves crashed against the cliffs, carrying their melody back to the sea. The newly formed waves shone in the sunlight.
The performance continued like that for a long time.
<End>
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