Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 22 - Richard and Christoph

A bed of needles is still a bed of needles.

Jeong Taeui fundamentally believed in the adage, “It’s better to get the beating over with first.” If something bad was clearly coming, he thought it better to get through it quickly and move on. He didn’t like to stew in anxiety, waiting for that moment. Of course, if it was something he could appropriately gloss over or defuse, he’d try his best to avoid the blow, but if it was an already decided fact, he’d rather get it over with quickly. And he had done so for most of his life.

That’s why, even now, his reason was telling him, “Rather than fretting and waiting, go to that bastard first and see what happens, whether it turns into gruel or rice.” A person only dies once, not twice, and waiting anxiously for the future isn’t exactly recommended. Furthermore, the hope that Ilay would just let go of a weakness he had seized, no matter how optimistically one thought, was simply impossible to entertain.

So, he had planned to sneak into the East Wing tonight and—unilaterally—settle things with Ilay.

—It’s not just his face that makes women flock to him. …That guy’s thing, it’s really big. They say it’s amazing.

Johan’s voice clung to his ears.

“He’s kidding me… If there’s a woman who would flock to that guy even after seeing that thing, I’ll eat my own hand.” Jeong Taeui grumbled, grinding his teeth.

Even he, who had done all sorts of things, both proper and improper, with that guy for years, was only just now starting to feel alive again. It was the result of blood-and-tears effort and perseverance. But if he were given the choice to go back to the beginning, Jeong Taeui would undoubtedly shout:

“Small is good!”

There would be a difference in degree, but having to endure that kind of thing, it would clearly be much more comfortable, both physically and mentally, to have something disappointingly small.

“…Even if I pretend not to know now, his thing isn’t going to shrink when it’s finally time to face the music later. Whether I get punished now or later, it’s all the same. Surely he won’t actually kill me, just like he said, ‘I’ll kill you if you step out.’…Ah, come to think of it, I didn’t call Kyle…”

Jeong Taeui cradled his head, mumbling to himself. Anyone watching might easily think he had a slight problem, but Jeong Taeui, lost in thought, didn’t care.

He was currently sitting on a bench in front of the West Wing. After barely picking at his dinner, he had gotten into bed, pulled the covers over his head, and agonized, until suddenly the “get the beating over with” mindset won out, and he impulsively burst out of his room.

However, once he came out to the West Wing and felt the cool night air, clearing his head a bit, the cursed story Johan had told him vividly came back to mind. He wavered between going back to his room or, since he was already out, just going to the East Wing. In his indecision, he sat on this halfway point, the bench, and tried to calmly think it over again. But no matter how he thought, he couldn’t reach a conclusion that felt like the right answer.

Night had fully fallen, and the surroundings were quiet and dark. Although the outdoor lights were some distance from the bench and couldn’t illuminate this area, the main building, East Wing, and West Wing, with most of their windows lit, meant it wasn’t completely pitch black. It was dim, but still light enough to recognize people. Occasionally, people were seen strolling far off in the well-maintained courtyard or forest path, perhaps enjoying a night walk.

Should he go to the East Wing? Go to Ilay, ready to be half-dead—if, by some chance, he really tried to kill him, he planned to turn tail and run without looking back, though he wasn’t sure if that would be possible. Or should he just pretend not to know until it happened, since one never knows what tomorrow brings? The logic of a reduced sentence for turning oneself in wouldn’t apply to that man anyway.

“High-voltage current flows through this house’s fence from midnight to 5 AM.”

Suddenly, information that had no apparent relation to the situation interrupted Jeong Taeui’s contemplation. Jeong Taeui, who had been sitting hunched on the bench, pulling at his hair, looked up at the figure who had approached without a sound. He knew who it was even before lifting his head, thanks to that low, cool voice.

“Christoph.”

“You could climb the fence outside those hours, but you’d have to be careful as the guards patrol frequently. It might be less guarded if you’re climbing from the inside out. But, how do you plan to get over a five-meter fence?”

Christoph, reciting words in a detached tone like reading from a textbook, sat next to Jeong Taeui, maintaining a distance where their arms wouldn’t accidentally touch unless intentional.

“Fence?”

When Jeong Taeui asked blankly, Christoph, in turn, glanced at him as if he found it strange.

“Weren’t you agonizing over climbing the fence to escape? I thought you were worrying about fleeing from Rick.”

It seemed Christoph had concluded that Jeong Taeui had come to Berlin to avoid Ilay, only to unluckily run into him here. Jeong Taeui sighed and shook his head at the half-right, half-wrong assumption.

“I was wondering whether it would be better to get the beating over with early in this case.”

Christoph tilted his head and looked at Jeong Taeui.

“I don’t know what circumstances are involved, but if it ends with just a beating, then getting it over with early might be okay. But if it’s a matter of life and death, isn’t it better to avoid it first?”

Indeed, he seemed to have made a fairly plausible guess this time. Christoph, who had worked with Ilay before, would know well that even a minor mistake or fault could turn into a life-or-death situation when associated with him.

“I doubt he’d actually kill me, but… if he really tries to kill me, literally, I can’t just quietly surrender my life. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I’ll have to run no matter what.”

“…”

Christoph was silent for a moment. He looked up at the night sky as if thinking something, then spoke quietly.

“In that case, if you run no matter what. You’re going to run, anyway. You’ll run like your life depends on it, with all your might. But, you know… Imagine running like that, and then looking back, thinking you’ve finally shaken him off. What do you think you’ll see in front of your eyes then?”

“…Weren’t you trying to comfort me by telling me to climb the fence and escape safely?” Jeong Taeui asked dryly, erasing the escape scenario that had instantly turned into a scene from a horror movie in his mind. But Christoph’s answer was concise.

“I was merely curious about how you planned to get over five meters.”

“… …Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”

It seemed better to change the subject. Wasn’t it just a while ago that he keenly felt that he had no one on his side in the world? Jeong Taeui felt relieved, thinking that since he was out and talking to someone like this, he probably wouldn’t go looking for that bastard tonight anyway. It was decided: no East Wing tonight.

“My head hurts.” Christoph said indifferently. Jeong Taeui raised an eyebrow.

“If I stay quietly in my room, they keep chattering in my head, and it gets noisy. Then I soon get a headache.” He clicked his tongue as if just thinking about it made him anxious.

However, at his words, which sounded more annoyed than anything serious, Jeong Taeui’s face lost its expression. He gazed intently at Christoph’s faint profile, barely visible in the darkness. While doing his errands for a while or being swayed by him, Jeong Taeui had watched him, whether he wanted to or not. He recalled Christoph’s indifferent face as he chewed pills like candy. He would casually pop painkillers into his mouth as if it were a habit, and even as he grumbled that the medicine didn’t work, he would always refill the bottle to ensure he didn’t run out.

“Who’s chattering? In your head?” Jeong Taeui asked quietly. Christoph seemed to frown slightly.

“Well… A lot of voices are mixed together, so I don’t really know. It’s noisy and gives me a headache, so I don’t want to listen.”

“What are they saying?”

This time, there was no answer. He stared blankly into space, as if recalling what they were saying, then at some point, he clicked his tongue, “Tsk.” He pulled out a small portable pill case from his pocket. A hard crunching sound echoed as he chewed the pills like hard candy. The headache seemed particularly severe at night.

“Have you ever tried counseling?” Jeong Taeui also looked up into space, asking casually as if it were nothing. Christoph, spitting behind the bench, complaining that the medicine left a bitter taste in his mouth, replied calmly.

“Yeah, I had a thorough examination, and they said there was nothing wrong, and told me to go to a psychiatrist.”

“How was it?”

“Well. I didn’t like how they just rambled on about useless things, so I just killed them, so there’s nothing much to say.”

He mumbled something that could be a joke or serious, and once again spat, saying the medicine was bitter.

“Since when has it been like that?”

“Next, you’ll probably ask if I usually use hallucinogenic drugs, or if such things happen often.”

“Hmm… If you tell me at what point you killed that doctor, I’ll only ask up to exactly the stage before that and then stop.”

Christoph glanced at Jeong Taeui. But he said no more. Rather than being bothered, he seemed bored with the conversation. Jeong Taeui also fell silent. A bitter aftertaste lingered, even though he hadn’t taken any medicine like Christoph.

But that was it. No further. Jeong Taeui instinctively knew how far he could step, and when it was time to retreat. That boundary was the same as the line he could handle. Inside his boundary, one impossibly large and crazy bastard already occupied most of it, leaving little room. And with that little room, he could only step this far.

He couldn’t kick out that crazy bastard to increase his allowance either. As time flowed and life moved on, his priorities were firmly established there.

…If it weren’t for that, he would have already lain down on the grass, telling them to catch him and eat him, chew him up, whatever…

According to his uncle, Jeong Taeui, who was “generally adaptable to the system but occasionally had a rebellious streak that overturned expectations,” shook his head quietly after such thoughts. No, even so, I would have still abjectly sought to save my life at a critical moment, he thought.

But even if that were the case, even if there came a moment when he completely overturned the situation, his acceptable range for this man was limited to this.

“You, you know… you really do seem to be Ilay’s friend. Sometimes you seem a little off, you’re always quite precarious, and you’re a dangerously unstable person…” Jeong Taeui muttered with a sigh.

A surge of irritation emanated from beside him. Even though it was too dark to see clearly, he was undoubtedly glaring coldly, a flicker of displeasure and sulkiness on that sculpted face. It was obvious without even looking. Perhaps if it had been anyone else, he might have slit their tongue with a knife without a second thought.

It was truly a stark contrast. Richard, positioned in opposition to him, always smiled with a gentle and soft impression. Even when unpleasant things were said, he didn’t act harshly towards others. He was a mature and kind person.

“But, I like you more than Richard. …Saying it, it sounds a bit strange somehow… Yeah, there’s no need to compare, but even so, I still like you, you know.”

Jeong Taeui mumbled, looking up at the utterly black void. When he lifted his gaze a little more, there was the night sky. It was a cloudy night sky with few stars scattered here and there.

When Jeong Taeui finished speaking and fell silent, Christoph suddenly spoke after a brief pause.

“I don’t like you.”

“…”

I like you too, he hadn’t expected such words at all. Nor did he wish for them. In fact, if he had heard them, he might have been startled. But to give that kind of answer, and to blurt it out so readily.

“Indeed, you have something to learn first…”

Perhaps due to his poor environment, there seemed to be landmines of people around him who lacked basic common sense when dealing with others. Although there were differences in degree, if he just counted the people who immediately came to mind, there were many. Even just UNHRDO, where he had once been, was full of people who teetered precariously between normal and abnormal on the line of common sense.

Perhaps opening a common sense academy would do good business. People who needed to learn common sense were scattered everywhere. There were probably countless others in places Jeong Taeui didn’t even know.

But he thought about it and then soon gave up. If such an academy were opened, nine times out of ten, the truly abnormal people who should come would never come, and the normal—and somewhat timid—people who didn’t need to come would surely show up. Generally, abnormal people don’t think they’re abnormal, so there’d be no reward and it would be pointless… Jeong Taeui briefly indulged in idle thoughts, then shook his head. He sighed and repeated curtly,

“Whether you like me or not doesn’t matter. After all, I’m not talking about a feeling where a relationship only forms if we both like each other. What I want to say is—… I don’t even know myself. Anyway, it’s like that.”

Damn it, I should go to a speaking academy.

As he spoke, his tongue got tangled, and Jeong Taeui finally fell silent. He clicked his tongue, thinking it would have been better not to say anything at all.

Silence hung in the air for a while. At the end of that silence, Christoph’s voice, slightly lower, spoke these words:

“But I don’t like you…”

“I know, I know.”

Thinking about perhaps opening a common sense academy for one individual, Jeong Taeui waved his hand. This contact phobia, which made him subtly shift away when his hand moved nearby, even though they were sitting at a suitable distance, was also a worrying thing, along with his lack of common sense.

“I don’t like you.” Christoph said again. This time, in an even lower voice. Jeong Taeui opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

Though it probably wasn’t the case, that low voice sounded a little regretful, and also a little anxious. Blending with his indifferent expression, it suddenly became amusing. So Jeong Taeui laughed.

Hearing Jeong Taeui laugh, Christoph turned his head with a peculiar expression.

“Is it funny?”

“Yeah, it’s funny.”

“…With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

Jeong Taeui grinned, echoing his words.

Christoph sighed, “Hmm.” And once again, he gazed blankly at the empty space beneath the sky. Even though he couldn’t see it well, his expression would likely be as bored and unexceptional as ever.

“Then come to me.”

“Uh, to you… huh?”

Jeong Taeui, still smiling, turned his head and asked again. When he tried to answer, something felt strange. But Christoph didn’t even look at Jeong Taeui, still staring at the sky, and slowly mumbled as if life was boring.

“Your worry, in the end, is wanting to escape from Rick, isn’t it?”

“…Did I ever say that?” Jeong Taeui asked skeptically. His smiling face instantly turned bitter.

The reason for his worry was similar to Christoph’s words, yet different. Rather than wanting to escape, he simply wanted to avoid Ilay’s impending tyranny.

“I told you before. I’ll talk to Rick. That guy doesn’t get obsessed with anything in the first place, and even for things he cherishes quite a bit, he’ll cleanly hand them over if you offer something equivalent in return. I have quite a few things that he might covet, so if you want, well, you can stay by my side. …If he refuses, we can force it through. I haven’t had a proper fight in a while anyway, so I’m a bit stiff. If you want, well… I can do that for you.”

Christoph, who spoke as if granting a special permission, added, “If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

Jeong Taeui looked at him, feeling a bit dazed. He had thought this before, but this seemed like a tremendous favor. An incredible favor, unimaginable given this man’s usual behavior.

No, rather than disliking it… Jeong Taeui stammered, scratching his nape.

There was one crucial detail missing from Christoph’s assumption. But when he tried to correct it, he felt awkward, and the words just lingered in his mouth. Then, suddenly, Jeong Taeui thought of something else.

“Force it through,” he said. It seemed to mean solving things with violence or coercive methods, but did he really have the ability to back up such words?

Jeong Taeui suddenly imagined a confrontation between Ilay and Christoph.

…First of all, Christoph looked significantly weaker in appearance. In another sense, his face had more intensity than anyone else, but that appearance suited flowers, not fists. As for their personalities, well, their directions were different, but neither of them was sane. The key was physical strength and fighting skill…

Jeong Taeui had always been surrounded by men since he was born and raised. Most of his family were men, middle and high school were all-boys schools, then military academy, followed by the military, and after discharge, UNHRDO, and after that, constantly Berlin—the only woman was Rita, who would be seventy in a few years. He had lived his life surrounded by men. Furthermore, since military academy, he had always been in environments where men specializing in fighting and combat gathered.