-“You have no name?”
-“They called me M during my time with the Journey, but I wonder if that can truly be considered a name.”
-“So, what kind of organization is this ‘Journey’?”
-“I do not know.”
-“Then, what were you doing before you joined the Journey?”
-“I have no memories from before the Journey.”
-“What did you do during your time with the Journey?”
-“I spent my days carrying out the missions entrusted to me by the Journey.”
-“And what were those missions?”
-“There were various types, but they were typically assassination-focused.”
-“Then why did you betray the Journey?”
-“Simply put, I no longer wished to remain with the Journey.”
-“I see. This interrogation concludes here. You’ve done well.”
At the grand manor of the Leonhart family, Lucius and the Knight Commander Makel conducted a brief interrogation after hearing news of M’s awakening.
Noir had initially opposed their interrogation, insisting M needed more rest.
However, the questioning ultimately proceeded smoothly under the condition that Noir would also be present as an observer.
“So, Makel, what are your thoughts?”
Lucius inquired of Makel, who stood beside him, as he closed the door to the room where M had been resting after the interrogation.
“The information we’ve gathered is far too scant. All we truly learned was the organization’s name.”
“The location of their headquarters is sealed by a magical oath, preventing any mention of it, so there’s no further way for us to extract information, unless, of course, the girl is lying.”
“Oh, so you believe the girl might be lying?”
“Ha, certainly not.”
Throughout his tenure as Knight Commander, Makel had accumulated a wealth of experience, which included the interrogation of prisoners.
Naturally, he possessed the ability to discern the eyes of those speaking truthfully from those who lied, and the girl’s gaze clearly conveyed sincerity.
“This is unforgivable.”
“The girl, you mean?”
“Are you going to keep doing this?”
Makel glared at Lucius, who merely shrugged his shoulders as if utterly bewildered by the question.
Before the girl had even awakened, Makel had requested her confinement and interrogation.
Lucius, however, had been teasing Makel about his actions, clearly enjoying his reactions.
“Hmph, I’m obviously referring to that organization called the Journey, aren’t I?”
Lucius had a granddaughter named Noir, and Makel had only just managed to have a child after five long years of marriage.
Both men, knowing the preciousness and innocence of children more than anyone, could not help but feel an immeasurable rage at the Journey’s atrocities.
A name is a word that affirms a being’s value and significance, leaving behind proof of its existence in the world.
It is natural for humans, and even animals, to assign names to one another using their own unique words.
Yet, these wretches from the Journey had not even given a common name to a child, raising a twelve-year-old girl virtually as an assassination tool.
How much suffering must she have endured to acquire such power at that tender age, and how many lives must she have extinguished with those innocent hands?
Adults are meant to protect children and guide them toward proper growth.
They must never exploit a child or raise them as a mere instrument of murder.
Makel could not even begin to imagine the immense suffering that young girl must have endured within the Journey.
‘Damn it, what was I even thinking of doing to such a child?’
He had intended to confine a child who had only just managed to escape the clutches of the organization.
While he had planned to conduct the interrogation far more gently than with a typical prisoner, given her age, that did not erase the fact that Makel had intended to imprison the girl.
“Makel, unclench your fists.”
“Ah…”
Makel’s fists, clenched in self-directed fury, had dug into his palms, carving wounds from which blood flowed, staining the floor.
Unaware that he had gripped his fists so tightly as to draw blood, Makel finally regained his composure upon hearing Lucius’s words.
“Your Grace, what do you intend to do with the girl?”
“Even for a child in such dire circumstances, given that she was formerly a member of the Journey, we must still keep her under surveillance.
“Furthermore, if it becomes known that she betrayed the organization and is still alive, she might face retaliation.
“While I will certainly ask for her opinion, she will nonetheless need to live within the sight of the Leonhart family.”
To place surveillance on a child who had finally gained her freedom, under the guise of protection.
Lucius’s heart ached at this realization, yet he could conceive of no other appropriate course of action.
****
The Leonhart manor’s library, befitting a distinguished ducal household, housed an immense collection of books of vast quantities and diverse genres.
“Hmm… not this one either…”
Noir diligently examined every book she could get her hands on, regardless of genre or title, from biographies of great figures and dictionaries to even fairy tales.
When her efforts still yielded no desired results, Noir summoned the servants outside and commanded them to bring every book circulating in Phleas.
–“You never thought of giving yourself a name? There was no particular reason to.”
–“Th-then, would it be alright if I gave you a name!? I… I owe you a debt of gratitude, and if you don’t plan to make one yourself, then I can create one for you, right?”
–“Hmm… Yes, that would be fine.”
Noir’s frantic search through the books stemmed from the conversation she had shared with the girl after the interrogation.
Though it had been a spur-of-the-moment offer, Noir felt a profound obligation to bestow the best possible name upon the girl who had placed her trust in her.
However, crafting a name that would define a person’s future proved far more challenging than Noir had ever anticipated.
Whenever she found a name she liked, she would agonize over whether it truly suited the girl, and this cycle of searching for another name had repeated dozens of times already.
“Young lady, would you like me to help?”
Three hours had passed since Noir entered the library.
When she still hadn’t emerged after such a long time, Makel entered the library to check on her.
Having already heard why Noir was holed up in the library, he had come to offer advice to Noir as someone who had recently gone through the experience of naming a child himself.
“No, it’s alright. I want to do this by myself.”
However, driven by the desire to name the girl solely through her own efforts, Noir declined Makel’s offer.
While it wouldn’t have been an issue for Noir to enlist help in choosing the girl’s name, she yearned for the girl to bear a name chosen by her alone.
‘Only I must decide it.’
‘I, who met the girl first among everyone in this manor, and who fought alongside her, must be the one to choose her name.’
‘This thought had taken root the moment I first learned she had no name.’
Noir herself didn’t understand why she felt this way, but the thought that she would be terribly sad if the girl used a name chosen by someone else weighed heavily on her.
It was for this very reason that Noir, who had initially considered naming the girl after characters from novels, eventually abandoned the idea.
Even if she were to write down the girl’s name as ‘Shiwoo,’ like the protagonists in novels, wouldn’t ‘Shiwoo’ still be a name created by the novelists themselves?
‘Absolutely, definitively, no one else’s contribution must be part of the girl’s name.’
‘It must be a name chosen by me alone.’
This sentiment of Noir’s was a form of obsession and possessiveness, though she herself was not yet aware of it.
Dawn broke.
“Hehe, hehehe… I found it…”
Having spent the entire night in the library, Noir had finally discovered a name fitting for the girl.
****
–“You never thought of giving yourself a name? There was no particular reason to.”
A name.
A word given to distinguish something.
And a word that bestows identity upon a person.
Seeing Noir ask that question, I realized a crucial fact.
‘Oh, right. Unnamed (TL Note: ‘Moomyeong,’ meaning ‘unnamed’ or ‘anonymous’) wasn’t actually a name, was it?’
After all, even without a proper name, I possessed a firm identity and conviction as a maid, and I had designations like Unnamed or M by which others referred to me, which made me forget that crucial detail.
Wow, how could I have forgotten that?
It was truly embarrassing to realize how accustomed I had become to calling myself Unnamed and being called M by others.
Thus, I couldn’t help but ponder Noir’s question about my name.
How should I introduce myself?
Could M or Unnamed truly be considered my name?
Ultimately, I revealed that I had no name, explaining that I was referred to as Unnamed or M.
If I had known this would happen, I would have given myself a cool name like Chunja, Sunja, Bongsoon, or Malsuk (TL Note: Traditional, somewhat old-fashioned Korean female names, often associated with a rustic or humble image).
Hmm, should I pick one now?
However, I doubted Noir would believe any name I made up now was my true name.
Back when I worked at a maid cafe in my previous life, I had intended to name myself Sookhee (TL Note: A traditional Korean female name, often considered old-fashioned).
However, upon hearing it, the manager and the other maids collectively opposed the name, forcing me to adopt ‘Maria’ as my maid name instead.
That incident made me realize that my aesthetic sense regarding names was ever-so-slightly different from that of the average person.
Yet, that was merely a problem arising from my aesthetic diverging from the norm; I didn’t believe there was anything inherently problematic with the names I created.
‘Right, Bokja?’
For example, in the original work, the character who was Unnamed (TL Note: ‘Moomyeong,’ referring to the protagonist M) was simply called ‘Shadow,’ which was just the English translation of ‘shadow.’
That was such a tacky and disastrous naming sense that I bestowed a new name, Bokja, upon our own nameless companion.
Considering how much Bokja clearly loves that name, it’s evident there’s nothing wrong with my naming sense at all.
‘Whimper…’
Huh? Why is Bokja suddenly whimpering?
Did it eat something bad?
As I quietly watched Bokja, it merely shook its head as if nothing was wrong.
That’s a relief.
If it had been displeased with the name I gave it, I would have made it swallow cucumbers, which it despises, all day long.
–“Th-then, would it be alright if I gave you a name!? I… I owe you a debt of gratitude, and if you don’t plan to make one yourself, then I can create one for you, right?”
‘She wants to give me a name?’
‘Suddenly?’
Noir’s abrupt offer made me pause in contemplation.
Was it truly right to entrust my name to Noir, rather than choosing it myself?
Even though I hadn’t chosen a name for myself until now, a name was not something so trivial that it could be carelessly handed over to another.
“Hmm…”
However, there was no reason to be particular about a name now, and when one looks at oneself, an objective perspective is often more valuable than one’s own.
Somehow, I felt a certainty that Noir would choose a name that suited me even better than I could myself.
“Yes, that would be fine.”
Upon hearing my answer, Noir’s expression brightened considerably, and with a declaration that she was going to the library, she hastily rushed out of the room.
‘Is naming someone else’s name really that enjoyable?’
Now that I thought about it, I recalled feeling quite pleased when I named Bokja as well.
‘Groan…’
****
Dawn broke.
“Um, are you awake…?”
Noir’s voice drifted from beyond the door.
For some, it might be an inconveniently early hour to receive a visitor.
However, as one destined to be a maid, and having perfectly maintained the discipline of waking at 5 AM daily, I possessed ample readiness to greet a surprise guest at 6 AM.
“Yes, please come in.”
The door opened, and Noir, looking utterly exhausted, entered the room.
Had she stayed up all night?
Deep dark circles marred both her eyes, and her usually sleek black hair was now disheveled.
“You know, uh…”
After entering the room, Noir stammered, glancing uneasily at me.
The words she had formulated in her mind seemed unable to pass her throat, leaving her unable to find her footing.
However, as one destined to be a maid, I could not rush a guest who had entered my room.
As I waited silently, Noir, with a look of determination, finally opened her heavy lips.
“I’ve decided on your name!”
“My name?”
While I had somewhat expected it given yesterday’s events, Noir’s words still surprised me.
She had actually stayed up all night thinking of a name for me?
After all, Noir and I were still practically strangers, having only met recently.
‘I had assumed she would just casually throw out a common name often seen in books, like ‘Shiwoo’.’
Honestly, even though the name Shiwoo appeared too frequently, its neutral gender and pleasant sound meant I didn’t think it would be too bad.
Still, it would have been inferior to my envisioned Chunsoon (TL Note: A traditional, somewhat old-fashioned Korean female name, similar to Chunja or Sunja).
“Phew, I really did think about it all night, but if you don’t like it, you can certainly refuse.
“I’ll work hard to find another name for you.
“This is simply me wanting your opinion; I’m not trying to force a name on you, so if you truly dislike this name…”
“I trust you. I am certain you have found the name that suits me best.”
I spoke with sincerity.
Though I now considered the Noir before me and the Noir from the original work to be different individuals, I still knew from the original how kind and diligent a person Noir was.
There was no way a name she had spent an entire night agonizing over could be bad.
Moreover, Noir’s kindness, dedicating so much thought to just my name, filled me with joy.
“Ah…”
Upon hearing my words, Noir’s eyes began to waver.
Her face steadily flushed crimson, and she dipped her head low as if to conceal her reddened cheeks.
“Yes! It’s definitely the name that suits you best!”
However, quickly regaining her composure, she lifted her bowed head once more, fixing her gaze upon mine with unwavering eyes.
“Blanc.”
“Blanc…?”
“It means ‘white.’ White is a color upon which any other color can be painted, and any story can be written, right?
“That’s why I thought it was the most fitting name for you, who is about to embark on a new life.
“Besides, your hair color is a beautiful silver.”
‘Blanc.’
‘Translated into Korean, would it be similar to ‘Heendung-i’ (TL Note: A common nickname for a white pet, meaning ‘Whitey’ or ‘Snowy’)?’
‘Whitey, because my hair is white…’
‘It was quite an intuitive name.’
“Is it… not good…?”
As I remained silent, quietly contemplating the name Blanc, Noir, looking anxious again, let her voice trail off and lowered her head.
“No, it is an exceptionally splendid name. Thank you very much.”
“Really!?”
Though I was reluctant to admit it, honestly, the name Whitey (TL Note: ‘Heendung-i,’ meaning ‘Whitey’ or ‘Snowy’) seemed better than Chunsoon.
The name Whitey also suited Unnamed (TL Note: ‘Moomyeong,’ referring to the now-named Blanc) quite well, and above all, the deeper meaning of Whitey that Noir explained resonated deeply within me.
‘The story of a maid, to be newly written upon a pristine white canvas.’
‘Ah, surely that story would be even more sacred and magnificent than scriptures recounting the creation of God and the lives of saints.’
‘Hehe… truly… truly wonderful…♥’
‘Moreover, pure white also signifies purity, innocence, and integrity.’
‘Since each of these words perfectly suited a maid, I found myself content with the name Whitey (TL Note: ‘Heendung-i,’ meaning ‘Whitey’ or ‘Snowy’).’
****
“Yes! Then, I look forward to working with you, Blanc!”
“Yes, I look forward to working with you, Noir.”
Noir felt a swell of pride seeing Blanc’s satisfaction with the name she had agonized over all night.
Blanc.
She believed it was the name that suited the girl most perfectly.
She was so certain that if Blanc were to reject it, she would never be able to find a better name.
What name could possibly be more fitting for a girl who, despite being entangled in a vile criminal organization, had retained her nobility, goodness, and pure innocence?
From this moment on, Blanc would inscribe countless pictures and stories upon that name.
However, Noir had one more reason for the name, a reason she had not revealed to Blanc.
Noir’s mother had named her daughter Noir, meaning ‘black,’ with the intention that she would become a sanctuary for many people, like the night.
And Blanc carried the meaning of ‘white.’
Black and white. Yin and Yang.
Though opposing, they created a harmony more beautiful than anything else.
White existed alongside black, and black existed alongside white.
“Hehe, hehehe…”
Despite all the various reasons she had given, Noir’s true intention was ultimately to create a matching set of names with the girl.
And this fact was a secret Noir would carry alone for the rest of her life.
