BIA Ch. 20
by Shrimpy“Oh, by the way, Dr. Aren’t you going to tell me what I said during the hypnosis test? I’m actually curious about that.”
Isaiah deliberately spoke in a bright tone, not liking how the atmosphere was getting too heavy.
“Hm, I don’t usually share that. We might conduct another hypnosis test later and it could affect the results.”
“I see…”
“That’s right. However, some of that content was mixed into the questions I asked today. Though Isaiah wouldn’t know.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Dr. Ackermann said with a gentle smile. It was a friendly smile that would have been unimaginable when I first entered this counseling room.
“Good work. If you wait outside with a cup of coffee, our nurse will give you a prescription.”
Dr. Ackermann personally escorted Isaiah to the hallway. Then, turning to Bran, who was sitting on the bench in front of the consulting room, he said with a sour expression.
“You come in too. Even if it’s just for show, you should at least pretend to have counseling if you’re going to receive psychotropic drugs.”
While Bran was talking with Dr. Ackermann, the prescription was issued. The medicine could only be purchased at the pharmacy on the first floor of the hospital building. Isaiah was debating whether to go down and buy the medicine first when the door to the consulting room opened and Bran came out.
After paying for the consultation, the two went together to the pharmacy on the first floor. When they presented the prescription issued in Bran Wiseman’s name, the pharmacist gave them a week’s worth of medication after a short wait.
“But what kind of medicine is this?”
“It’s a mild tranquilizer. These pink ones are gastrointestinal protectors to take with it and this, separately in the bottle, are sleeping pills, Zolpidem. This is a four-week supply.”
“Yes? Sleeping pills?”
As soon as Isaiah asked, Bran, who was standing next to him, casually took the pill bottle and said.
“They’re mine.”
It seemed he had also been prescribed sleeping pills.
When they came out of the pharmacy after buying the medicine, it was lunchtime. The two entered the restaurant in the adjacent building.
“I’ll have the lunch course… no, just a house burger and a Coke.”
“Shouldn’t a nineteen-year-old eat more?”
“What, suddenly?”
Isaiah put down the menu and glanced at Bran. He always said, “You’re Isaiah Cole, not Isaiah Diaz,” but only at times like these did he bring up being nineteen.
“May I take your order?”
Soon, a waiter who really did look nineteen came to take their order. Isaiah ordered first, followed by Bran.
“Coffee, strong.”
When the waiter who took the order left, Isaiah said to Bran,
“Aren’t you an insomniac? But why do you always drink such strong coffee?”
“It’s the opposite. I drink strong coffee because I’m tired from not being able to sleep at night.”
“That’s why you can’t sleep at night. It’s a vicious cycle.”
Bran smiled as he belatedly unbuttoned his suit jacket.
“Are you worried about me?”
Of course, he was worried. It seemed like Bran had been taking sleeping pills for a while. The fact that he couldn’t sleep immediately even after drinking so much alcohol yesterday meant his insomnia was severe.
“No, it’s because I feel terrible about drinking that muddy coffee again tomorrow morning.”
“Add more water. Like today.”
“Then it becomes lukewarm. It’s the worst.”
“Coffee is for caffeine intake anyway.”
While the two were arguing, Bran’s coffee arrived. Bran picked up a colorful mug covered with the restaurant’s logo. As soon as he took a sip of coffee, he quietly furrowed his brow.
“How is it?”
“Not good.”
“Whatever. Coffee is for caffeine intake anyway.”
Isaiah echoed Bran’s words.
“This caffeine concentration isn’t good. It’s too weak.”
“Anyway, I insist.”
At the same time Isaiah snorted, his ordered burger and cola arrived. It felt a bit awkward to say this after mocking Bran, but the burger wasn’t good either. The coleslaw that came with it was too sour, and the potato chips were soggy, indicating the restaurant’s overall poor culinary skills. Fortunately, the cola was delicious.
He managed to eat half of the burger, relying on the cola, but any more was impossible. It was too greasy and salty. Isaiah eventually gave up on the burger and decided to focus on the remaining potato chips.
“By the way, you were a medical student?”
Bran asked as he sprinkled more salt on his potato chips.
“No way,”
Bran laughed.
“Uh, really? Then how do you know Dr. Ackerman?”
“I took a few psychology courses in school. That’s how I met her.”
Bran took and ate one of Isaiah’s potato chips. The next moment, his eyes widened.
“Isn’t it too salty?”
“Really? I like my potatoes a little salty.”
“These are too salty.”
“My mother always says that, too.”
Isaiah spoke with a smile, then belatedly thought, ‘Oops.’
‘Mother? Who, Isaiah Diaz’s mother? Is that part of the backstory?’
Anticipating Bran’s mocking laughter, Isaiah lowered his head to hide his flushed face. But surprisingly, Bran didn’t comment on it. He simply said, “Be careful of high blood pressure,” and then lifted his coffee cup as if to take a drink.
Relieved, Isaiah resumed eating his potato chips and continued the conversation.
“So, why would you take psychology courses?”
“Just… personal interest.”
Bran sipped his coffee between sentences. Even though he found it distasteful enough to make him frown, he continued drinking it. It seemed that, for him, coffee served no purpose other than caffeine intake.
“So, what was your major?”
Bran took another sip of coffee before answering.
“English Literature.”
Isaiah’s hand, reaching for a potato chip, froze. Bran remained silent, observing Isaiah’s reaction. Given his usual personality, he would have said something with a laugh, like, ‘Same as Isaiah Diaz, right?’ or ‘What a coincidence, huh?’ His silence was strange.
“Have you finished eating?”
Bran asked, looking at Isaiah, who had been motionless for a while.
“Huh? Uh…”
Isaiah stammered, hurriedly wiping his hands on a napkin.
“Alright then.”
Bran set down his mug. He had emptied it at some point.
“Shall we go to your apartment now?”
The apartment, like most old and worn-down buildings had a shabby exterior that contrasted with its relatively tidy interior. He had thought so last night, but it was even more apparent in daylight.
“You know, I’m a top-notch sniper.”
Isaiah said as they climbed the dilapidated metal stairs to the third floor, since there was no elevator.
“That’s right.”
“So, naturally, my fee would be exorbitant. Why would I be living in a dump like this after earning all that money?”
“It’s probably just a temporary place.”
Bran, always a few steps ahead of Isaiah, reached the third floor first.
“Your real house is probably in Virginia. Near WD headquarters.”
“Hmm, that’s possible.”
Isaiah soon arrived on the third floor. It wasn’t as tiring as he had expected. Surprisingly, he wasn’t even out of breath.
“I guess I’m in better shape than I thought.”
“You’re probably in better shape than me.”
Bran said to the surprised Isaiah.
“Really? Why?”
Instead of answering, Bran shrugged slightly and opened the apartment door without a word to Isaiah. A corpse was visible through the open doorway. Caught off guard, Isaiah screamed internally and quickly followed Bran inside, sticking close to him.
He had been worried about leaving the door unlocked but the apartment was exactly as he had left it the previous night. Even Bran’s half-finished beer remained on the table.
“The cell phone?”
“In the bedroom… on the bed.”
Bran, with Isaiah clinging to his back like a koala, went to the bedroom without trying to detach him.
“Here it is.”
Upon entering the bedroom, Bran immediately spotted the old slide phone tossed on the bed. He checked the messages without asking and then handed it to Isaiah.
“Anything else you need?”
“Well, even if I wanted to, I need to know what’s in this… Oh, wait a moment.”
Isaiah shoved the phone into his back pocket and went to the cabinet.
“I’ll grab some clothes.”
“Your clothes are fine.”
“It looks like I’m advertising myself as too gay.”
He had worn these clothes to accompany Chester. If he had known he would be with Bran, he wouldn’t have even considered them.
“I suppose we could just wrap you up like this and send you to the funeral the day after tomorrow.”
Bran remarked, looking at the cabinet filled with only black clothing.
“Do you like black?”
“Not me… Well, I guess I must have.”
Isaiah muttered as he rummaged through the identical black clothes.
“So, it’s not you.”
“Huh?”
Isaiah stopped searching and looked up at Bran. Seemingly unaware of Isaiah’s gaze, Bran idly touched the hanging clothes.
“If you don’t like anything, just buy some.”
“I would like to, but I don’t know where my cards and money are.”
“I’ll buy you some.”
With that, Bran abruptly closed one of the cabinet doors. Isaiah stared blankly as Bran left the bedroom. He grabbed a couple of wearable jackets and closed the cabinet.