A massive black burden. That was the thought that struck me as I stared at the piano sitting squarely in the middle of the narrow workshop.
It had been great to make. It had been great to play. But now that I actually had to take it home….
'How the hell am I supposed to move this thing?'
The iron frame, the soundboard, and that thick solid-wood case on top of it all. This thing was so heavy it would make four grown men grunt and struggle just to budge it.
The problem was that I—Aiman—had neither that kind of strength nor the manpower to make it happen.
A forklift? A moving company? This fantasy world had nothing of the sort. Something this heavy would probably require a mage or an aura user to transport….
"Haa…."
When I let out a soul-crushing sigh, Haruna—who had been wiping her hands on an oily rag beside me—raised one eyebrow.
"Aiman. Don't tell me."
Her gaze was a perfect 7:3 mix of contempt and disbelief.
"You're actually worrying about how to move this thing?"
"Uh… yeah, pretty much."
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.
"So what you're saying is—"
Haruna snorted in utter disbelief.
"You came to me with blueprints drawn so meticulously and beautifully, asked me to build it, and didn't even think about how you were going to take it away?"
"…I can't argue with that. Yeah, that's exactly what happened."
It was true. I'd completely forgotten about delivery. Back in my previous life, you just paid the money and professional movers would carry it straight into whatever room you wanted.
"What an idiot…."
Haruna clicked her tongue in pity. Being called stupid by a dwarf—truly the shame of humanity.
"Hmm… Well, artists aren't supposed to worry about trivial details like that anyway. And it's not like I have the strength for heavy lifting. Why don't you just move it yourself?"
Haruna looked up at me with an expression of pure incredulity. Her contempt-filled eyes scanned me from head to toe.
A brief silence passed. Then she gave a short, resigned nod.
"Fine."
"Huh?"
"Now that I think about it, if you tried to move it and scratched it even a little, my heart would break. Step aside."
Haruna threw off her gloves and walked up to the piano. She placed her small hands against its underside.
"Even though I lack creativity and can't make weapons—"
Wooong—.
The air in the workshop vibrated faintly.
"—I can at least use basic household magic."
Float.
Just like that, the impossibly heavy piano rose into the air. As light as a feather. Mocking the very law of gravity.
'…?'
For a moment I was genuinely confused. Did Haruna have that kind of ability? Wait—no, more importantly, did other dwarves have abilities like that?
"Let's go. Lead the way."
Haruna jerked her chin toward the door. I stood there gaping for a second before hurriedly nodding.
Truly a fantasy world. Technicians really are the best.
We walked through the night streets. Me in front, the piano floating leisurely behind, and Haruna following along as if she were walking a pet.
Drunk passersby rubbed their eyes, convinced they were hallucinating. Quite the spectacle.
"Here it is."
A shabby two-story house on the outskirts of the capital. The rented room I'd managed to afford after fifteen years of saving every copper.
Haruna skillfully guided the piano through the second-floor window. It settled down with not even a thud—perfectly gentle landing.
Once the piano claimed its spot inside the room, the already cramped space felt completely packed.
"So this is… where you live?"
Haruna gave the place a quick once-over. I felt a twinge of embarrassment. The shabby furniture, the peeling wallpaper… it wasn't much to look at.
'….'
But the embarrassment vanished the instant I realized her gaze was fixed solely on the piano's placement, the room's humidity, temperature—purely practical environmental factors.
"Good. I'll remember this place."
"Why would you remember it? Planning to come back?"
Haruna opened her eyes wide as if the answer were obvious.
"Because my baby is here, obviously."
“….”
"If you neglect maintenance and the sound gets muddy or the wood warps, I'll storm right in. So be prepared. Anyway, I'm off."
Haruna gave a casual wave and slipped out the window as naturally as if it were her own house.
I watched her retreating figure and shook my head.
"She's definitely… one weird dwarf."
'My baby,' she says. Anyone overhearing would think she was its mother. Looks like I'll have to add wooden maternal love to the list alongside wooden obsession.
After Haruna left, only the piano and I remained in the room.
It was quiet, but not lonely. Moonlight spilled over the glossy black surface, making it glow softly.
"Haa…."
Just looking at it filled my stomach. The urge to lift the lid and play something light right this second was overwhelming.
But it was the middle of the night. In a cheap rented room with zero soundproofing, playing the piano now would probably get me evicted on the spot.
Instead, there was something I had to do. Memories. I needed to capture the fading masterpieces from my previous life before fifteen years washed them away completely.
I rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a dusty bundle of parchment and a quill. Opening the ink bottle released a sharp, biting smell that stung my nose.
"Shall we begin?"
Scratch, scratch.
In the silence, only the sound of the quill scraping across parchment echoed. I drew staff lines, then filled them with notes.
Transcribing melodies from my head onto paper was harder work than I'd expected. There were parts I didn't remember perfectly.
What was that middle bridge again? How did the harmony resolve here?
[Chopin – Nocturne No. 2 (Op. 9 No. 2)]
The first one that came to mind was, of course, Chopin. Nighttime emotion. It made me think of Ria from earlier today.
She had seemed dazzling yet somehow lonely—this piece would suit her. Dreamy, gentle, yet achingly poignant.
"Next…."
[Mozart – Turkish March]
Nothing better for warming up the fingers. Bright, lively rhythm. The kind of song that lifts your mood when you're feeling down.
[Debussy – Clair de Lune]
The moonlight streaming through the window naturally brought it to mind. That dreamlike atmosphere, like painting with sound—I knew there would be times I'd need it.
And finally.
[Liszt – La Campanella]
My hand paused for a moment as I wrote the title. The ultimate showcase of piano virtuosity.
"I wonder… if I'll even be able to play this one."
Even in my previous life, this piece had given me plenty of trouble to master. Could I really tackle Liszt after a fifteen-year gap?
"If I keep playing, I'll get there. Just practice."
I pressed the pen firmly and drew in the notes. It didn't have to be perfect. Even if the details were rough, it was fine.
I could fix them as I played….
Before I knew it, I'd been scribbling away so intently that the sky outside the window had begun to lighten with the faint blue of dawn. The desk was piled high with parchment densely covered in black notes.
"Huu."
I was exhausted, yet my mind had never felt clearer. I looked down at my ink-stained fingers and smiled with satisfaction.
I'm alive. I'm really alive.
I collapsed forward onto the desk just like that. Even the hard wooden surface felt comforting tonight.
***
"Mmm…."
Harsh sunlight stabbed at my eyelids. I dragged my stiff body upright. The air was thick with the mingled smells of parchment and ink.
"Oh, right. It's the weekend today."
I glanced at the calendar on the wall and sighed. Today was the day she came. My little sister, that is.
Serika. Back in the orphanage days, the little snot-nosed kid who used to toddle after me everywhere. But the current her was completely different.
[Top Entrance to the Imperial Academy]
[Youngest 4th Circle Mage]
[Candidate for Next Tower Lord]
Every title attached to her name was dazzling and brilliant. A commoner-born genius who had crushed the arrogance of nobles with nothing but overwhelming magical talent.
I was happy to see Serika soaring so high, but I also felt uneasy. In the path of her shining future… someone like me….
Wouldn't the nobles at the academy try to use me as a weakness to attack her?
'I don't want to become a hindrance to Serika….'
That's why I'd deliberately avoided contacting her and tried to keep my distance. I just wanted to live quietly and take care of myself.
But Serika was different. The more I pushed her away, the more stubbornly she clung to me—like a rubber band snapping back harder. Acting as if she didn't care at all.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Regular, precise knocks. She'd arrived. I took a deep breath. No matter how much inferiority I felt, a little sister was still a little sister.
I hadn't seen her in a while. I should smile. I have to smile.
Creak.
The moment the door opened, my vision was completely blocked by something.
"Oppa!!"
An impact like a cannonball. Something soft and warm wrapped around my neck and burrowed straight into my chest.
I staggered backward a few steps from the force. It was Serika. The instant the door opened, she'd leaped and latched onto me.
"Guhk… ah. Wait just a sec…."
I choked and tried to pry her off. But she wouldn't budge.
How was a mage this strong? Had she cast some kind of enhancement magic before coming?
Her arms were clamped around my neck like steel bands.
"Haa…."
Serika buried her face in my chest and took a deep, long inhale. She looked like a drug-sniffing dog catching a scent.
"Oppa's smell… It's like I'm finally alive again. I'm recharging at last…."
“….”
Dangerous. The symptoms are getting worse.
"Haa… Serika. It's nice to see you after so long too, but."
I managed to grab her shoulders and peel her away—just barely, maybe a centimeter.
"Shouldn't we… maybe stop doing this? You're all grown up now, and you're the top student at the academy."
Serika lifted her head. Her silver bob swayed. Her large emerald eyes looked up at me.
Innocent, guileless eyes. She tilted her head and said,
"What are you talking about, Oppa?"
"…."
"When you see your little sister after a long time, hugging her deeply for at least five minutes is just common sense in the empire, isn't it?"
That was something Serika had kept telling me back at the orphanage. At first I doubted it, but after hearing it over and over, it started to sound plausible.
"Sure, that's true, but no matter how you look at it, Serika—you and I are both adults now…."
Suddenly Serika's eyes drooped slightly. Her expression looked like she might burst into tears any second.
"We've always done this since the orphanage days. This is what makes me feel the most comfortable…."
Her hands clutched my clothes tightly.
"Don't tell me… you hate me now?"
Every time I saw those teary eyes, an inexplicable wave of guilt hit me. I couldn't win against this.
"Haa… Fine, fine. Just come inside first. What are you doing leaving the door open?"
I finally surrendered. In an instant, color returned to Serika's face.
She burrowed back into my arms with a bright grin. I awkwardly carried her while still holding her and managed to shut the door. That was when—
"Huh?"
Serika, still wrapped around me, fixed her gaze on one spot. The enormous presence that completely filled the narrow room.
The black piano.
"What… is that?"
Her emerald eyes narrowed toward the piano. Curiosity—and a faint trace of wariness—filled her gaze.