BIA Ch. 81

“Do you think I only know that there’s a bullet in here?”

Bran whispered, pulling Isaiah into his arms. Before Isaiah could ask what he meant, Bran gripped Isaiah’s right hand even tighter.

“I also know that you absolutely can’t shoot this gun.”

In that instant, Isaiah felt his heart drop. He forgot to retort with nonsense, and just stared blankly at Bran. It was because he was reminded of how, just a few hours ago, he had hesitated for a long time before putting down the magnum bullet. Could I, who even carefully chooses bullets because I hate making a big hole in his corpse, really pull the trigger on him? He couldn’t help but have that fundamental question.

But how did Bran know that…?

“Ugh!”

A sharp pain shot through his wrist. His wrist was bent back by a ruthless force, and his fingers spread apart against his will.

“Take the force out if you don’t want it broken.”

Bran whispered lowly, bending his wrist even harder. It wasn’t because of his words, but because of the pain, that his hand naturally lost its strength. As soon as the pistol fell to the ground, Bran kicked it away as if he had been waiting for it. The pistol disappeared instantly into the bushes by the side of the road.

“See? Am I right?”

The man who had been ruthlessly twisting his wrist just a moment ago was gone, and Bran looked down at Isaiah in his arms with a satisfied expression.

This crazy bastard.

Isaiah was instantly furious. He swallowed the curses he was about to spew, and instead, hit Bran’s chest hard with his elbow. Bran made a sound that was hard to tell if it was a laugh or a groan, and stepped back.

Barely escaping Bran’s arms, Isaiah quickly started searching the bushes for the gun. But it was no use. It was dark all around, and the bushes were too thick.

“Give up.”

Bran said nonchalantly from behind.

“You won’t find it.”

“Shut up.”

Isaiah snapped back irritably. The hand that was rummaging through the bushes became just as rough. Isaiah knew it too. In this situation, trying to find the gun was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop the meaningless act because he was trying to suppress his anger.

He was angrier at himself for being momentarily flustered and taking his words, ‘You absolutely can’t shoot this gun,’ in a different way, than at Bran for kicking away the gun. How could he be so careless because of such words? It seemed that Bran had said those words purely with that intention from the start, without any intention of deceiving him, which made him feel even more resentful and humiliated.

“Looking at how desperately you’re searching, it seems you didn’t bring many bullets.”

Bran said from behind, sounding amused.

“Well, no owner gives a bird that might fly away enough food to fill its belly.”

“I know you’re smart, so shut up.”

Bran clicked his tongue as he watched Isaiah desperately rummaging through the unseen bushes.

“Stop it.”

“Mind your own business.”

Bran laughed as if he was dumbfounded at Isaiah’s reply.

“You really don’t listen. You’re completely different from someone.”

Isaiah had a feeling he knew who Bran was talking about. It was himself. Himself during the time he had lost his memories.

“Sorry to break it to you, but that guy’s already had his funeral. If you miss a dead person that much, go die with him.”

Isaiah blurted out whatever came to his mind. Only after he said it did he realize that he was childishly jealous of himself, but he couldn’t help it. This was for a good twenty years. For twenty years, he had lived, never forgetting him for a single day, regarding him as his only salvation. But now, he had to hear these words because of a guy who had been acting like he owned the place for just five days. He knew in his head that that guy was also him, but he couldn’t accept it in his heart. Especially when he thought about everything that had happened between Bran and himself while he had no memories, he felt more than just disturbed; his heart was burning up.

“Stop it.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t stop no matter what, he finally came closer and grabbed Isaiah’s wrist.

“Your hands are going to get all messed up.”

He pulled the wrist he was holding, forcibly raising Isaiah’s body.

“Let’s look for it tomorrow. You’ll be able to see it when it’s bright.”

Isaiah almost softened again for a moment at the way he seemed to be worried about him. But he’d be a fool to fall for it again this time.

“You start the fire, then you put it out. You’re so busy.”

“In these situations, don’t people usually say they’d beat you up and kiss you?”

“Don’t say something so disgusting.”

Isaiah shook off Bran’s hand. Or, he tried to. But Bran didn’t let go.

“What’s so disgusting?”

He asked with a smile, then pulled Isaiah’s other shoulder with his other hand. He held him in his arms even more tightly than before, and kissed him before Isaiah had a chance to resist. He didn’t use his tongue, but sucked on his lips hard, very hard.

“This?”

Bran said, finally pulling his lips away.

“Cut it out.”

Isaiah cursed and pushed Bran’s chest away. His lips felt numb as he spat out the little bit of saliva that had gathered. And they were hot. His hands, neck, and cheeks were all cold, but only his lips were hot, as if that part of his body was the only thing that existed.

“I guess you don’t remember, but we did a lot more disgusting things than this.”

As expected. Isaiah thought resignedly. He had suspected it, but still, his heart ached the moment he confirmed it. He didn’t know if it was from joy or sadness.

“That wasn’t us.”

Leave me out of it. Isaiah rubbed his lips with the back of his hand.

“I didn’t do it.”

Yes, he hadn’t done it. It was something he didn’t remember.

“That wasn’t me.”

“So you’re upset?”

Bran smiled.

“That a nineteen-year-old stole your first kiss?”

“Who the hell is….”

Just as he was about to ask who was upset, his lips were covered again. A tongue entered his mouth that had opened to speak. The hot flesh rampaged through his mouth, swallowing all sounds, including language. The dizzying sensation that took his breath away was so familiar that Isaiah was confused even in the midst of it. Was it my imagination that it felt like there had been a similar situation before? Or was it that my nerve cells were confused, mixing it with the kiss from a little while ago?

“Hah, uhm…….”

No, it wasn’t. A little while ago, Bran had only sucked on his lips. He hadn’t been so rough in his mouth. But this was definitely a sensation that was in his memory. He was being kissed so relentlessly, without even a chance to breathe, that he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Bran’s neck. And just as he was hesitating whether to entwine his tongue or not, Bran pulled his lips away. Just like now.

“If it were me, I’d go somewhere else.”

Bran said lowly, running his thumb over Isaiah’s lips that had swollen in the meantime.

“Where to?”

Isaiah asked, trying hard not to gasp for breath.

“Anywhere, out of the cage.”

Bran pressed his thumb firmly on his lips. Isaiah let out a small, deflating laugh.

“And die?”

“Why does your conclusion always end up like that?”

“That’s how you killed Robin.”

Isaiah stared at Bran with wide eyes.

“Under the pretext of taking it out of the cage.”

“Robin is Robin.”

I’m talking about you right now. The hand that was touching his lips became even more intimate. Isaiah shook his head as if trying to shake it off.

“It’s the same. How long do you think a bird that has lived in a cage its whole life would survive if it was suddenly chased out?”

“Did it live? In the cage?”

Bran tilted his head. When Isaiah looked at him with eyes that asked what he meant, Bran said it again with the same tone.

“Was that living?”

“……”

“If that was the case, then it’s true that I meddled too much.”

With the sound of sand slowly slipping through his fingers, something that had been supporting him slipped away.

Isaiah pushed Bran away without a word. Bran also quietly stepped back at the weak touch.

“Don’t say it like that.”

Bran. Isaiah called out the name of the man who had been his god for the past twenty years.

“How am I saying it?”

Bran’s voice was too cold. No, it was the wind that was cold. Until a little while ago, he had thought that he had gotten somewhat used to this cold, but just because he had been in Bran’s arms for a moment, it felt like the cold night air was piercing his skin and seeping into his bones again. Trying his best not to shiver, Isaiah said,

“But still, you, you……”

But that was it. No more words came out. He had wanted to say, ‘But still, you are my salvation, please don’t deny my twenty years that I’ve endured thanks to you,’ but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. That was just his situation, and to Bran, he was just a killer hired by Chester, nothing more, nothing less. The fact that they had once been in the same facility was just an excuse for this man to appease him and make him give up on the mission.

Seeing that Isaiah couldn’t finish his sentence, Bran spoke first.

“Give up on the pistol. Look for it again when it’s bright.”

With those words, he left. Listening to his footsteps fading away, Isaiah remained alone in the dark garden. For a very long time, alone.