BIA Ch. 103

Day Fourteen

With a shrrrk sound, the darkness deepened further.

“Hey, isn’t this enough?”

Chester shouted from the window.

“Yeah.”

Isaiah answered without opening his eyes, still lying on the sofa.

“Look before you speak, you bastard.”

“I know without looking. It’s fine.”

What difference did it make whether the curtains he wouldn’t even use were hung properly or not? From the start, those curtains had only one purpose: to stop Chester from ever mentioning the sound of curtains again.

“Hmm, good. Proper blackout.”

Even while looking at the curtain he’d hung and clapping, when Isaiah ultimately didn’t give him any attention, Chester eventually grumbled and sat down next to him.

“Why are you sprawled out from the middle of the day again? What did you do at night? Huh? Did you go suck some guy’s dick, you homo bastard?”

“Stop with the bullshit.”

Isaiah was genuinely annoyed. He’d rather have done that, then he wouldn’t feel so wronged. He’d spent the whole night alone in an office with no sign of anyone, let alone a man. It couldn’t be helped. Until evening, Chester was watching with his eyes wide open. Late at night, when the guy was completely asleep, he left his smartphone at the Taten Building and moved only his body to Bell Financial. He put the bag containing the ledger in the cabinet and immediately installed the benchrest on the window frame. Then, he disassembled the M24 completely and reassembled each part from the beginning. Actually, it was something he’d inspected and oiled half a year ago, so there was no need to disassemble it again, but it just ended up that way. He needed something to shake off his random thoughts, and there was nothing better than a gun for that. When he touched a gun, his random thoughts would disappear on their own, and time would pass quickly. Gun enthusiasts apparently took at least a week just to look at one gun, but he wasn’t that obsessed. Half a day was enough.

Around the time he was mounting the 55x scope on the assembled M24, dawn broke. He put it on the benchrest and returned to the Taten Building. Tonight, he had to go and adjust the scope’s magnification and get a feel for the distance to the church beforehand.

“Really? It must be about time you got restless.”

Chester, who had somehow snuggled up next to him, said as he slyly wrapped his arm around Isaiah’s waist. Only then did Isaiah realize why Chester had come here alone without Mani.

“How about it, I think now’s a good chance to continue what we left off in Virginia.”

Chester whispered, blowing hot breath into his ear. Listening to just his voice with his eyes closed, he sounded quite dignified. Of course, that was because Chester was lowering his voice as much as he could.

It wasn’t like he was particularly interested. But when he thought of the man who hadn’t contacted him at all yesterday, he felt like he might do it, even if he had to force himself. He was sick of himself for being hung up on someone who wasn’t even his lover, and more than anything–.

‘Then there’s no choice. You’ll just have to be careful with your body from now on. So you don’t accidentally give your god your disease.’

That was what the man had said so casually. He was curious how he’d react if he found out that he’d slept with another guy, even Chester, just three days later.

“Huh? How about it…”

Chester’s hand slipped inside his t-shirt. Just like his doll-like pretty face, his fingers were slender and his fingertips were incredibly soft. Yeah, just looking at this guy’s hands, you wouldn’t find it strange if he was a woman. Feeling the touch that was so careful it was almost ticklish, Isaiah chuckled. His hands were bigger than his own, but the shape of his fingers, without any protruding knuckles, was so beautiful.

Bran was different. Unlike his beautiful face, his fingers were thick at the joints, and his palms were rough. Especially the part where the pistol grip touched, calluses were firmly embedded, and just gently stroking his skin felt like being scratched. When he roughly grabbed his non-existent chest with those hands, he couldn’t help but scream.

“Isaiah.”

The touch became more intense. Chester’s lips, which had been nibbling his earlobe until just now, were now tracing his cheek. Having come this far, it was only polite to turn his head. Then their lips would immediately overlap, and after that, it would be a piece of cake.

But.

“…Chester.”

“Yeah?”

“You smell like marijuana.”

Chester covered his mouth with his hand and quickly leaned back. In that gap, Isaiah turned to lie on his side and said.

“Stop smoking so much. Unless you want to die right after becoming boss.”

“What… would I die from just marijuana?”

Chester grumbled and protested even in that situation.

“It’s not like it’ll end with just marijuana.”

Isaiah simply folded one arm and lay down, using it as a pillow. Seeing that perfect posture of rejection, Chester finally realized he’d been rejected and cursed as he got up.

“Why do you hate drugs so much?”

“Because I might get addicted.”

When he said that’s why he didn’t drink either, Chester scoffed, “What are you talking about.”

“You’re already a sex addict.”

“Sex doesn’t kill you.”

“Drugs don’t necessarily kill you…”

“They do.”

Isaiah said, closing his eyes.

“Even if you’re lucky enough to still be breathing, your brain’s dead. Then it’s as good as dead, right?”

“What, you little shit?”

Chester flared up again and shouted.

“Are you saying my brain’s dead?”

“No, my brain.”

“Huh…?”

“My brain’s dead.”

Isaiah said, lying on his side, pulling both legs up closer to his chest.

“So get your act together before you end up like me.”

Buzzzzz–

The vibration made Isaiah suddenly open his eyes. He must have dozed off for a moment. He almost fell off the sofa as he got down, opened his fishing bag, and took out his smartphone. But there was nothing on the screen. Just in case, he opened the message app, but it was the same. ｢What is this note?｣ The message he’d sent yesterday was the last one. There was no reply from Bran. No call either.

Sighing, he picked up the smartphone Chester had given him. It wasn’t there either. Then the last one was the feature phone he’d received from WD. Sure enough, when he went to the bedroom, the feature phone he’d thrown on the bed was flashing.

｢Jacana’s condition is not good. I hope you’ll visit the hospital tomorrow.｣

Here we go again. Isaiah clicked his tongue and threw the phone onto the bed.

Since he was awake, he took a shower and got ready to go to The Bell Financial. Right before he left, he checked the smartphone Bran had given him one more time. Still nothing.

He felt deflated, but also thought it was natural. It was already eleven at night. Probably, Bran was finishing dinner at Cedric’s house right now and having some boring card game with everyone while drinking. And then he’d go up to the bedroom on the second floor.

He didn’t know why he stubbornly put the smartphone in his back pocket, even though he knew all this. No, actually, he knew. It was lingering attachment.

As soon as he arrived at The Bell Financial’s office, he grabbed the M24 he’d placed on the benchrest and adjusted the scope’s magnification first. As befitting its name, Nightforce was a scope that was strong in the dark, but that didn’t mean it was only for nighttime. Plus, the resolution decreased when the magnification was increased, which was common to all optical instruments.

Fortunately, he was able to find the magnification where the doorknob on the back door of the church was completely clear in the crosshairs in just two hours.

Now all that was left was to watch. Endlessly until dawn. He’d constantly move the position of the muzzle and wait for the blurry image to become clear again, then move it again, and wait again, and move it again.

That’s why the most important virtue of a sniper was patience. To stay in place without wavering. To do that, you had to be devoid of imagination. That way, you wouldn’t have fear, and you wouldn’t act ahead of time with unnecessary predictions.

Ironically, what instilled in Isaiah the greatest quality as a sniper was drugs. Due to the aftereffects of drugs, part of his brain was damaged, putting a brake on his thinking ability. Like many drug addicts, if he didn’t pay special attention, he’d remain in a daze forever.

Fortunately, Isaiah’s level was not severe, and he was able to control himself. But when he was waiting, when he was just staring at the sights endlessly, he didn’t feel the need to think. Isaiah thought this job was his calling. He could forget the will to live and the fear of death, and just wait for the target to enter the circle, for the image in the crosshairs to become clear.

Then, when the job was over, all those things would come rushing in at once. The guilt about killing someone, the relief about surviving, the thoughts about Bran.

They came crashing in all at once, like an explosion. He felt like he had to resolve it immediately, but he didn’t know where to start. So the way he found to resolve it all at once was sex. He’d feel himself being choked and his insides being crushed, and in that pain, he could feel that he was alive. It was even more perfect if he imagined the other person was Bran.

But right now… he didn’t know. How was it possible that he was thinking only about Bran so much? It was the same yesterday. So instead of watching, he just disassembled and reassembled the gun again, wasting time. He’d even come today determined not to do that, not to think about anything else, but somehow, his head was filled with Bran again.

He felt like he was going crazy. Was it possible that the brain function that had been dead was coming back to life? No, that couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense.

Isaiah shook his head violently. To concentrate, he raised the muzzle, and in that state, he put his eye to the eyepiece again. The cloudy night sky looked just like a foggy, dark night sea. Seeing the artificial satellite shining alone in it, a story suddenly came to mind.

There was a lighthouse keeper. He had kept the lighthouse alone for twenty years. Then he rescued a person who had been washed ashore by the waves, and they lived together for a few months. Finally, that person recovered and left on a rescue ship, and the lighthouse keeper committed suicide in less than a month.

In the past, he couldn’t understand the lighthouse keeper. But now he thought he knew. If you didn’t know, you didn’t know, but once you knew, you couldn’t live with it. That’s what loneliness was like.

Buzzzzzzz–

He felt a vibration in his back pocket. Isaiah thought he must be completely out of his mind. But he wasn’t surprised. After all, hallucinations were like lifelong friends to him. And right now, even these hallucinations were welcome. The lighthouse keeper would probably have felt the same. If he had had even a hallucination by his side, he would never have committed suicide.

“Hello.”

Isaiah answered the phone.

｢Where are you? You’re not at Taten.｣

The auditory hallucination was even clearer than the visual hallucination. It really sounded like Bran was talking.

“Bell Financial.”

｢You’re diligent.｣

Not only the voice but even the way of speaking was the same. Of course. Because it was a hallucination he’d created. It was speaking the way he wanted, the way he liked.

｢But why does your voice sound like that?｣

What’s wrong with my voice? He wanted to say that, but the words wouldn’t come out. He thought he had mumbled something, but he didn’t know what he was saying. Strange sounds kept coming out of his mouth. It was only a moment later, after hearing the sound of the keypad being pressed and the door opening, that he realized it was sobbing, that he was crying.