The hallway was quiet as Erich and 402 walked side by side, their footsteps echoing softly off the tiled floor. The dim, fluorescent lights overhead cast a muted glow on the walls, creating long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them. The silence between them was comfortable, almost reflective, as they both processed the interaction they’d just had with the young boy suffering from schizophrenia and identity disorder.

After a moment, Erich broke the silence. “What did you think about the boy?”

402 glanced at Erich, his expression thoughtful. “He looked troubled. And very sad. It’s... it’s a bit saddening, really.”

Erich nodded, his face softening with a hint of sympathy. “He’s doing better than when he first came in. Back then, he barely spoke at all. He wouldn’t let anyone into his room—just sat there in silence, staring at the walls.”

402’s brow furrowed slightly. “Schizophrenia and identity disorder... they’re both often triggered by trauma. Do you know what happened to him?”

Erich’s steps slowed, and he grew quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as he recalled the boy’s tragic past. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with sadness. “The boy lived in a poor family. His parents struggled every day, barely getting by. One day, at school, a rumor started—kids were talking about a tall man with glasses who would come at night and take away their parents. The boy heard the story, and it scared him, though he tried not to think about it too much.”

Erich paused, his eyes darkening as he continued. “One night, while the boy was asleep, his parents, overwhelmed by debt and despair, decided to end their lives. When the boy woke up in the morning, he found them. His mother was in the bathroom, having overdosed on medication. His father... he’d hung himself in the bedroom.”

402 remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to the story.

“The boy couldn’t comprehend what had happened,” Erich went on, his voice growing softer. “In his shock, he couldn’t believe that his parents had left him like that. So he blamed it on the tall man with glasses—the same one from the rumor at school. He convinced himself that the man was real, that he was responsible. That belief became so strong that he developed schizophrenia, seeing the tall man everywhere. The fear of falling asleep took hold of him—he thought that if he slept again, something even worse would happen.”

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The hallway seemed to close in around them as Erich recounted the story, the weight of the boy’s trauma palpable in the air. “He stayed in his room all day after finding them, too afraid to move because he believed the tall man was in the house. It wasn’t until people came looking for him that they found him, paralyzed by fear. The trauma was so overwhelming that it fractured his mind, leading to both schizophrenia and identity disorder. His brain just couldn’t handle the sadness, so it split itself into pieces.”

402 absorbed the story with a solemn expression, his usual calm demeanor taking on a more reflective tone. After a few moments, he finally spoke. “That boy will never be the same as he was before. He won’t ever be as happy.”

Erich came to a stop and turned to face 402, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Maybe not. But I’m going to do everything I can to make him a little bit happy again. Even just a little.”

402 regarded Erich for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re too optimistic, Doctor.”

Erich chuckled lightly, shrugging. “If I want to bring happiness back to other people’s faces, I have to be happy myself first.”

402 stood still for a second, as if processing Erich’s words, before his smile grew a little wider. “You’re right,” he said simply, the casualness of his tone making the moment feel almost like a conversation between old friends.

They continued walking until they reached the next room. Erich opened the door and stepped inside, with 402 following close behind. The room was dimly lit, much like the last one, but this time, the patient was an adult—a man with a goatee beard and long hair that reached his shoulders. He sat in a chair by the window, his back straight, with a table in front of him. His eyes were fixed on the chessboard before him, but there were no pieces on the board—just the empty grid of squares.

“Good evening,” Erich greeted the man, his tone friendly and open. But the patient didn’t respond. His gaze remained locked on the chessboard, his eyes unblinking, as if the empty board held some profound secret.

Erich glanced at 402, who observed the scene with curiosity. “Do you know how to play chess?” Erich asked him.

402 shrugged, a slight smile on his lips. “Doesn’t almost everyone know how to play it?”

Erich chuckled softly, nodding. “True, but this is different. This is mind chess—some call it blind chess. It’s a bit harder than regular chess.”

402 tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “Mind chess? How do you play that?”

Erich leaned in a little closer, his voice taking on a slightly conspiratorial tone. “In mind chess, the board and pieces are all in your head. You imagine them, and then state your moves to your opponent. The hard part is remembering where every piece is at all times.”

Before 402 could respond, the patient finally spoke, cutting through their conversation with a sharp tone. “Are you going to keep bothering me, or are you going to sit and play?”

402 stepped forward, his smile growing into something more confident. “I’ll play against you.”

Erich and 402 sat down in the chairs across from the patient, the empty chessboard between them. The man’s eyes never left the board, not even to acknowledge 402’s presence. He seemed entirely absorbed in the game, as though it were already unfolding in his mind.

“Who goes first?” 402 asked, his voice steady as he prepared for the mental challenge ahead.

The patient finally looked up, his gaze meeting 402’s for the first time. “You go first. After all, the game is new to you.”

402 nodded, his expression one of focus and determination as he readied himself for the game, his mind already picturing the pieces on the board. Erich watched quietly, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he observed the interaction, curious to see how this encounter would unfold.