BIA Ch. 150

Since That Day

The mafia war that erupted on Friday evening at a large church known as a hub for Irish immigrants plunged all of Eloy into terror. With three major mafia organizations involved and casualties numbering over two hundred, the incident was commonly reported by the news as likely becoming an unprecedented gangland killing in American criminal history.

In this mafia war involving the three large organizations—Kalisz, Martino, and Barone—the Kalisz family undoubtedly suffered the most damage. Due to the unilateral attack by Martino and Barone, about a hundred of the two hundred people attending the Friday service were killed, and around forty were injured. Nearly half of the organization’s members were wiped out.

The Martino family sent twenty members into the fray, and all twenty died. Barone sent thirty members; twenty-three died, and seven were injured. Strictly by mortality rate, these two fared worse than Kalisz, but as the initial attackers, they garnered no sympathy. Instead, people only questioned what possessed them to attack.

As expected, the Martino side, having received Kestrel’s body, contacted Morgan through a WD associate before dawn. He expressed his desire to know as much detail as possible about the last request this body had received. Morgan informed him that Kestrel had signed a long-term contract with Chester early that year and had been carrying out missions right up until the end.

The next morning, Martino family Capo Tessio appeared at the police station with a refreshed look. He first confirmed to the reporters waiting outside the police line that the twenty dead were indeed his men. He also stated, ‘For the past few months, Chester Kalisz and his subordinates have been killing our members without reason. It seems some who held grudges over this acted out of revenge for their comrades, leading to this escalation. However, this was entirely their personal doing; there were absolutely no orders or responses at the organizational level. In my opinion, while Chester Kalisz is not entirely blameless for bringing this tragedy upon himself, I feel responsible for the innocent victims and express my deepest regrets. My apologies to the victims and the citizens of Eloy.’ With these words, he mercilessly tore into the already deceased Chester and his men, while simultaneously providing a basis for self-defense for Bran and his subordinates who were suddenly attacked, before entering the interrogation room.

On the other hand, the Barone side flatly denied everything. They insisted they had simply gone to the service, got caught in the crossfire, and responded accordingly. However, quite a few citizens had seen them heading towards the church in the back of a pickup truck armed with machine guns. Fingerprints of the Barone subordinates who had initially held the machine guns were clearly found on the weapons confiscated by Bran’s men.

In any case, putting Martino aside, thanks to the unexpected cooperation from the Barone side, Bran and his men’s claim of self-defense seemed to gain even more traction. Indeed, what else could they do when madmen arrived with machine guns and started firing indiscriminately, other than return fire in defense?

Furthermore, Bran possessed an unrestricted license for firearm possession and carry. This meant he had absolutely nothing to worry about regarding illegal firearm possession and use.

“So, he’ll probably be released late this afternoon. He’ll be called in again around the day after tomorrow, and investigations will continue intermittently, but for now, it seems we can breathe a sigh of relief.”

When Mickey, who visited Bran’s house with Isaiah on Monday afternoon, reported politely, Vanessa clicked her tongue, saying, “He killed so many people, and it’s still self-defense? This world really is only good for mafia bastards,” yet she went out to buy flowers for the living room and study. Though she didn’t say it, it seemed she felt bad about not being able to welcome Bran back herself, so she wanted to create a welcoming atmosphere with pretty flowers—that was Mickey’s opinion.

Indeed, Vanessa was very pleased to hear that Isaiah would remain at the house even after Mickey left.

“Still, it’s good to have someone home when you come back from the clink.”

“…He wasn’t exactly in the clink, just being questioned.”

“It’s all the same. Leaving home is tough either way.”

Vanessa seemed to have deliberately chosen only brightly colored flowers. She arranged them in two vases, placing one in the living room and the other in the second-floor study.

Perhaps because the day was unusually warm, leaving the window open for a moment attracted a bee, drawn by the scent of the flowers. Vanessa clicked her tongue again, blaming it all on global warming.

“Normally, they should all be in their hives by now. But it’s so warm these days due to the abnormal weather. It gets up to 17 degrees Celsius during the day, so the bees don’t even realize winter’s almost here and keep searching for food. That’s why so many bees are dying from overwork lately.”

Go home quickly before it gets cold. Vanessa left all the study windows wide open and went downstairs.

Isaiah waited in the study, planning to close the windows once the bee left, but it showed no sign of leaving. Instead, another bee came in later, and the two buzzed around the flowers. Among the flowers was one that resembled a camellia but had a particularly strong fragrance, which seemed to be attracting the bees.

While waiting for the bees to leave, Isaiah looked around Bran’s study. He thought about reading a book to pass the time, but the bookshelves held no titles that piqued his interest. Returning to the desk, Isaiah belatedly noticed a book lying on it. Its primary-colored cover was worn from handling—Slaughterhouse-Five.

Isaiah perched on the edge of the desk and picked up the book. He intended to flip through it lightly from the beginning, but as soon as he turned the pages, it fell open to a middle page with a distinct crease. It was where he had folded it long ago.

「All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever. When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in bad condition in that particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is ‘So it goes.’」

“What are you doing? Here?”

A voice suddenly interrupted as he was mulling over each word.

“Ah.”

Isaiah quickly looked up. Bran was standing at the study door.

“The bees…”

Isaiah mumbled absently, looking at the vase, then shut his mouth. He looked back at Bran and said.

“I was waiting for you.”

“Hmm.”

Bran smiled and walked into the study. But the smile was slightly ambiguous. A look that seemed pleased yet not quite. Happy to be waited for, but also slightly uncertain if this was alright.

“What’s with that reaction?”

Isaiah asked, his voice tinged with confusion, as Bran took off his jacket.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Why?”

“Because I believed you’d be in another city by now?”

“What…?”

Isaiah exclaimed, putting down the book he was holding.

“What other city? Virginia?”

Seeing Isaiah’s bewildered expression, Bran nodded as if finally understanding.

“I see. There was a fundamental misunderstanding.”

He hung his removed jacket on a hanger. The dress shirt underneath was spotless, without a single bloodstain. It seemed he had diligently changed clothes even while being questioned.

“I naturally assumed you would report Cedric for bribery. That’s why I gave you that list.”

Bran said, approaching the desk.

Ah. Isaiah thought he finally understood what Bran was trying to say. So, Bran had probably wanted him to use the list as evidence to report Cedric himself. More accurately, perhaps he had intended to induce him to do so. And then apply for the witness protection program, stay under police or FBI protection until the trial ended, and after the trial, get a completely new identity and start a new life elsewhere.

True, Bran probably hadn’t predicted Kestrel would be there too. In that situation, the only way to use that notebook to evade Martino’s eyes was indeed to report Cedric directly and apply for witness protection.

“No, that’s too extreme.”

Isaiah said, still flustered.

“Really? Isn’t killing him more extreme?”

Bran tilted his head as he sat down in the desk chair.

“No, not Cedric. Us, I mean.”

Isaiah quickly corrected himself.

“I heard using the witness protection program means completely cutting ties with everything from before. You can never see friends or even family again.”

“Well, yes.”

Bran’s nonchalant reply shocked Isaiah slightly.

“Doesn’t that mean I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore either?”

“But you’d be definitively alive.”

“How is that… any different from being dead?”

At Isaiah’s words, Bran leaned back in his chair and chuckled.

“I don’t think someone who actually tried to die should be saying that.”

“…..”

Isaiah fell silent. Leaning back a bit further, Bran said.

“Anyway, I believe I would have found a way to meet you, no matter what. Even if that wasn’t possible, isn’t it better to preserve your life that way?”

“Not at all.”

Isaiah stated firmly.

“Honestly, since it’s over now, I can say this, but this is a hundred times better than that.”

“What is ‘this’?”

Bran straightened up, as if ready to hear about this supposedly hundred-times-better, brilliant scheme. Seeing that, Isaiah felt he had misspoken, but he couldn’t just gloss over it now. Isaiah recounted the story from The Bell, trying his best to convey the urgency of the moment. As expected, Bran listened with a ‘not bad, I guess’ expression at first, but as Isaiah reached the part about his call with Morgan, his face gradually crumpled, and finally, he snorted before even hearing the whole story.

“A complete bugs in amber.”

He said, tapping the copy of Slaughterhouse-Five on the desk with his fingertip.

“No escape, no matter how much you struggle.”

“Yeah, I knew you’d say that.”

Isaiah sighed and picked up the book Bran had pushed aside. The page that always opened first, the one he had folded in the past, coincidentally contained the very words Bran had just spoken. Bugs in amber. Isaiah scanned the sentence once more with his eyes and said.

“But that’s what you say when you can’t change anything.”

“True.”

“I thought I changed quite a lot.”

Isaiah said, his gaze still fixed on the book.

“I killed Cedric, and I survived. And I didn’t hand over Lombard.”

“And returned right back to the cage.”

With that single phrase, Bran brought everything back to square one.

“Bran.”

Isaiah looked at Bran, smiling as if he couldn’t be helped. Bran was also looking at Isaiah. Leaning sideways, elbow resting on one armrest of the chair, he quietly looked up at Isaiah. His deep-set eyes clearly conveyed his disappointment.

“It’s meaningless if you go back there.”

Saying so with a serious expression, not smiling as usual, made his heart tighten even more. It felt like he couldn’t drag this out any longer. Isaiah spoke urgently.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going back.”

Bran raised an eyebrow as if asking, How? Isaiah set the book down on his lap and let out a soft sigh.

“My father passed away.”

“Really? When?”

“On Friday. Morgan, ever so kindly, only told me after I said I’d return to WD.”

“What a truly kind bastard.”

Bran laughed incredulously.

“I felt sorry about what happened to Kestrel. So, partly as a tribute, I intended to fill the vacancy I caused, but the moment I heard that news, I realized there was no need.”

“The contract?”

“Exactly, that’s my point.”

Isaiah tapped the desk audibly.

“My father is gone, and I haven’t even signed a new contract yet. Who’s to say Morgan will live that long?”

Right? Isaiah tapped the desk again.

“Besides, Morgan has many enemies and has committed enormous sins.”

“Hmm.”

“Nobody knows what might happen before I sign a new contract. Right?”

As if finally grasping what Isaiah was getting at, Bran slowly nodded.

“True. It is about time he died.”

Bran wore a thoughtful expression for a moment, then looked up at Isaiah and said.

“A heart attack could happen as soon as tonight, couldn’t it?”

“…No, that’s too extreme.”

If he dies now, everyone will definitely think it was me! Isaiah exclaimed in panic.

“Anyway, I’ll handle this myself. It’s my problem.”

“Well, as you wish.”

Bran said reluctantly. It seemed he wasn’t pleased with the situation. More precisely, he probably disliked that Isaiah had verbally agreed, even provisionally, to return to WD with Morgan. In Isaiah’s view, it was just a verbal promise, and everything else had been resolved well, but that one point seemed to continuously bother Bran.

And in truth, the cage Bran referred to wasn’t limited to WD. The very situation where he carried a gun, slept with a gun under his pillow—that itself was the cage.

Perhaps that’s why Bran wanted to use the witness protection program this time, to give him a new life. A completely new, safe life unconnected to guns.

Actually, he could have lied if he wanted to. He could have omitted the details of the call with Morgan, simply glossing over it by saying the FBI negotiated with him and resolved things smoothly. But he didn’t want to. He hated the thought of Bran feeling betrayed if he found out later. The anger then would surely be incomparably greater than now.

So, he didn’t want to hide anything. He didn’t want to offer empty reassurances either. He could, but it would be a lie. Hadn’t they already suffered painful consequences from doing so once before?

Looking at the ledger Bran gave him at Bell, he had made a vow. If only he could turn back time, he would tell Bran everything. Even if they couldn’t put their heads together and consult, he would at least tell him everything he was thinking and give him time to prepare.

“Bran.”

Isaiah called Bran softly. Bran raised his eyebrows in lieu of an answer. It meant, Go on. Isaiah hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“This is just… me telling you in advance.”

“What on earth are you trying to say?”

Bran belatedly smiled, his brow furrowed. Looking at that face, it felt impossible to speak. Isaiah turned his head away. Fiddling with the cover of the book on his lap, he said.

“While talking to Morgan, I had a feeling that even if I didn’t go back to WD, I wouldn’t be able to quit this line of work eventually. Like you said, even if I found another job, I felt like I would end up holding a gun again.”

Bran made no reply. Isaiah continued without waiting.

“Maybe it’s not true. No one knows what the future holds for people, but I just had that thought. That maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life shooting guns. What that means is… you’ll worry about me no matter what. You’ll keep worrying, anxious that you can’t protect me.”

His head bowed lower as he spoke. His voice grew quieter. Isaiah fiddled with the book cover pointlessly for a long while before finally raising his head again. He looked straight at Bran and said.

“But, still, this is better for me. Rather than changing my name and job through witness protection and never seeing you again for the rest of my life, I choose to meet you with this name, this job.”

Instead, I’ll do my best not to give you cause for worry. Isaiah quickly added.

“It’s just that I might do that work again, not that I definitely will. First, I’ll look for other work, whether part-time or whatever. And even if I do this work again, I won’t take on overly dangerous missions. If I join an organization, I’ll go somewhere better than WD, and I promise I’ll consult with you before I go. Oh, and I’ll build more muscle than I have now.”

Bran watched Isaiah, chin resting on the back of his hand. A faint, barely perceptible smile seemed to linger on his lips. In that state, he spoke quietly.

“Alright.”

“What, that’s too short.”

“What’s too short?”

“Compared to my resolve, your answer is too half-hearted.”

Isaiah was genuinely angry.

“Say more. Praise me for making a good choice. Tell me I was right, that this is better than the witness protection program.”

As Isaiah insisted, even tapping the desk with the spine of the book, Bran burst out laughing as if he couldn’t help it.

“You did well. Very well.”

“You mean it?”

“I mean it.”

Bran nodded emphatically.

“I was planning to kill Cedric anyway, but getting it done quickly is better in many ways. Thanks to you, things became easier. Thank you.”

“Hmm, that’s a bit ambiguous for praise, but.”

Isaiah gestured for him to continue.

“I’d advise against part-time work. It’s not like we’re short on money, so why not just relax for a while? If you really want to work, do as you please. Just don’t go to a workplace with too many men.”

“Now you’re not even saying I did well. Keep going.”

“Exercise is good, but don’t get too obsessed with muscles. Your current balance is the best.”

“…When exactly are you going to praise me?”

Isaiah looked at him with an expression that said, ‘Aren’t you being too much?’ Seeing Isaiah like that, Bran smiled deeply. Smiling so deeply that wrinkles formed around his eyes, he spoke in a gentle voice Isaiah had never heard before.

“Everything you’ve said so far are good thoughts and well-made choices, but the best thing you did was not using the witness protection program.”

“..…”

“Truthfully, I also think sticking together dangerously is a hundred times better than separating safely.”

Even though it sounded like he was just saying it, practically forced praise obtained by grabbing him by the collar and shaking him, strangely, hearing those words made his eyes well up slightly. Perhaps it was because Bran’s tone was so affectionate and gentle. Even knowing this man’s specialty, unlike his own, was lying, he felt happy.

“I said what you wanted, so why are you acting like that?”

Thinking Isaiah was still not satisfied, Bran chuckled and stood up from his seat.

“Anyway, I never thought you’d actually hit him from that distance.”

“Hit… what?”

Isaiah blinked for a moment, then belatedly realized Bran was talking about Cedric and made a ‘what the…’ face of disbelief.

“You said before that of course I could hit it. Saying it wouldn’t make sense if the infamous Lanius couldn’t even do this, and whatnot.”

“You can say anything to seduce someone.”

“Ha.”

Faced with Bran’s confident demeanor, Isaiah was rendered speechless.

“No, why did you think I couldn’t do it? It’s not like I’ve never shot 1400 yards before.”

“1480 was a first, though.”

“That’s true, but.”

Bran came around the corner of the desk to Isaiah’s side and perched on the desk beside him as well.

“And hitting him square in the head with just one shot, especially with all those police surrounding him.”

“Was it that hard to believe even after seeing it with your own eyes?”

He said it as a joke, but Bran nodded seriously, “It really was.”

“Who there would have guessed it came flying all the way from Bell?”

Bran seemed genuinely impressed, so Isaiah couldn’t bring himself to mention that his hand had been trembling before he shot. Feeling awkward for no reason, he opened and closed the right hand that had pulled the trigger. As he repeated this, Bran’s hand gently covered his.

“Anyway, thanks to that, you’re alive now. Should I thank the god who gave you such talent?”

Bran’s hand was very large and warm. Perhaps it felt even more so because the study was a bit chilly. Isaiah turned his hand to grasp Bran’s back and said.

“Um, actually, I’d never thought about it like that before, but this time, for the first time, I was thankful.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Isaiah squeezed their clasped hands tightly.

“Because I saved you.”

“I see.”

Bran smiled.

“Then it’s right for me to be thankful too.”

The sunset streamed through the wide-open windows. As if absorbing the sun’s red light, Bran’s golden eyes sparkled brighter, more beautifully than usual. The gentle breeze made his long eyelashes flutter, casting flickering shadows around his eyes. Each time, it seemed as though two insects trapped within the amber-colored gems of his eyes stirred slightly.

It was so fascinating, so pretty, so beautiful, that Isaiah didn’t close his eyes even while they kissed. He just wanted to keep looking.

“By the way, why were the windows left open?”

Bran asked, pulling away after a long kiss. As if waking from a dream, Isaiah snapped back to reality and said.

“Ah, because of the bees.”

“Bees? In this season?”

“Well, what was it… because of global warming, bees mistake the season and keep gathering nectar. That’s why so many bees are dying from overwork lately.”

Isaiah relayed exactly what Vanessa had told him.

“The bees are having a hard time too.”

While Bran went to close the windows, Isaiah examined the flowers in the vase one by one, wondering if a bee might have gotten trapped inside. Fortunately, no bees were visible anywhere. It seemed they had managed to return home before it got colder.

Bran returned, having closed the windows. Isaiah thought he would sit in the chair, but instead, he sat on the desk again, just like before, next to Isaiah. And just like before, he naturally took Isaiah’s hand.

That simple action made his heart flutter strangely. Isaiah held Bran’s hand tightly back and said.

“But those spots in your eyes appeared naturally, right? Pigmentation.”

“Yes.”

“It’s amazing that there are exactly two.”

Bran suddenly burst out laughing. Seeing his amused expression, as if finding something cute, it seemed he knew what Isaiah was trying to say. Feeling embarrassed, Isaiah playfully hit Bran’s shoulder, pressing for an answer.

“Huh? It’s amazing that there are two, not one, not three. Isn’t it?”

“Is it amazing, or do you like it?”

Bran finally asked point-blank. He was truly a man who never let things slide. But even this annoying part of him was endearing. This time, Isaiah initiated the kiss himself and said.

“At first, it was amazing, and now, I like it.”

The kiss, a light touch like a petal falling, was sweeter than any honey, any syrup.

“Maybe they like it too, the ones in your eyes…?”

Isaiah murmured, his voice already sounding entranced as he looked at the two insects sleeping deeply within his lover’s pupils.

“Because there are two?”

Bran whispered, his voice deliberately low. Whether it was an illusion or not, each time he slowly closed and opened his eyes, the distance between the insects in his pupils seemed to shrink. As if they were drawing closer to each other.

“Yeah, because there are two, not one, not three.”

Because they would be together forever in this time that would never change, never warn, never explain, forever stopped.

Together, just the two of them, in this sweet, sticky eternity.

— Bugs in Amber, Fin.