"Don't you dare hang up, you fag. I'm calling to say we'll help your boyfriend out."
"My boyfriend? Who're you talking about?"
"Song, you fucking idiot! Jesus, you're such a hopeless fag!"
"I'm not gonna fall for that."
"Just shut up and listen. We got the green light from the Metropolitan Police. Interpol is working with us on this case, too. They said Song is an important witness who needs protection."
Kuji lowered his gun and took the cell phone from Song. "Are you serious? Show me proof."
"I don't have any. You have my word."
"Then it's not happening."
"Fine. In the name of my cock and balls, I give you my solemn vow. If I turn out to be lying, I'll cut them off and give 'em to you."
Kuji laughed himself to tears. "Nango, it looks like you and me both treasure the same thing over anything else, huh?" he said. After a good bout of laughter, he resumed a serious voice. "Tell me what I need to do," he said.
"Just hang in there until I make it. The guys from the precinct are headed over there right now."
Kuji handed the cell phone back to Song. The man looked at him calmly. "Masatake, I can see that he loves you."
"Don't be stupid," Kuji retorted. "Anyway, he told us to sit tight. The police are coming to help us."
Song took Kuji's hand and walked toward the altar. He stood in front of the cross that was mounted there and made his own cross over his forehead. He turned back to face Kuji,
"Let's barricade the entrance," he said. "If we try to leave now, we'll only be sniped. This is our territory. It's probably best to besiege ourselves here."
At first Kuji thought it would be better to make a run for it, but when he looked around the chapel, he felt like Song had a point. There was only one entrance. There was a small side door behind the altar, but that was connected to the residential quarters, which no one would think of coming through unless they knew the floor plan of the church. The windows were placed high up, and were not large enough for people to climb through. If they piled some benches up in front of the door, they would probably serve as obstacles to hold any intruders off for a while.
"I'm sure they won't be able to let loose with shotguns and light machineguns in a residential neighborhood like this. They would probably have to make do with night-vision and silencer-equipped guns. If so, then we have a chance. If we can fend them off for a few minutes - even ten - we'll be able to make it."
Kuji looked up at Song with an air of fearful awe. "Wow, you really sound like someone from the special forces."
"I told you I was." Song wore the same calm look as he looked at Kuji's hands. "By the way, Masatake, do you know how to fire a gun? Has Nango taught you?"
Kuji shook his head. "I was trained as a spy, but not in weapons, of course. The only teaching I got from Nango was, you know, in bed."
Song shook his head in exasperation and held out his hand. "Give me that. I'll hold onto it."
"But you don't want to kill people, right? You were praying just now."
"Of course I don't want to kill if I can help it. But I've been trained. I can aim for a spot that won't be fatal. Back there I had no choice because it was do or die."
Song took the gun from Kuji and released the safety mechanism with familiar ease.
"Masatake, right now your life is the first thing we have to protect. For the sake of Nango, too."
"What's he got to do with it?" Kuji grumbled, but Song's judgment was sound. "All right, okay, what should I do?" he asked.
"Let's pile the benches up here. Then we turn off the lights."
"But then we won't be able to see the guys."
"And it'll be the same for them. Besides, I've been trained to apprehend people in low light conditions."
"Wow, you're amazing," Kuji said, impressed.
"I certainly didn't become a priest to receive those kinds of compliments," Song said, looking truly unsure of how to react.
The switch was turned off, and darkness closed in around them. Dim moonlight filtered in through the high windows, but it was enough to discern things by. The two of them crawled across the floor and hid in the shadows of the pulpit. Not even a minute passed before they heard creeping footsteps.
"Here they come," whispered Song, and they heard the doorknob turn as if on cue. The door crept open and immediately hit the barricade. There was a pause before the door burst open forcefully. The benches toppled over noisily, but that was all part of the plan. The intruders had now scattered obstacles all over the floor for themselves. They no longer had the option of laying down flat and crawling along the floor.
"They're probably wearing infrared goggles, so they'll be able to see us," Song whispered at his ear again. He felt something hard being pressed into his hand.
"It's a knife we use to cut the bread for sacraments. It's small, but it's better than nothing. Keep it with you."
Kuji nodded without a word. If they could see in the dark, it was probably a good idea.
They heard something creak.
"One of them is trying to climb over the bench."
Kuji sensed Song moving. The next moment, he heard a muted bang as fire spewed from the barrel of a gun. A cry of surprise rose as the bench groaned loudly.
"I shot him in the right shoulder. Given him the message that he's out of the game."
"You shot at him already?"
"It's our way of expressing our intent. I had no choice," the man answered. "I gave him a warning. This is my way of telling them I'm not looking for bloodshed. I gave him time to turn back."
"And are they going to?"
"I hope so."
The wounded enemy seemed to be making his way out through the door. The benches scraped noisily. But soon afterwards, there was a loud screech of something being dragged. The enemy was clearing the obstacles on the floor.
"It looks like my warning backfired. Now they know that I won't shoot indiscriminately."
"What do you mean?"
"He's clearing an opening so that the rest of them can breach it and fan out on each side. But we'll be able to buy ourselves some time while they clear the barricade."
He was right, Kuji thought as he strained his ears. The neighborhood was quiet and not a sound could be heard.
"Who knew the day would come when I'd be waiting to hear police sirens," he said. Although Nango had promised he was coming, Kuji wondered if he really would.
"We only have a while to wait until dawn. Let's hang in there," Song said encouragingly. Kuji nodded again. The scraping ceased. It looked like the enemy had finished taking the obstacles outside. There was a rustling sound.
"Keep your head low," Song said. Kuji got down on the floor. The pulpit was elevated from the floor, and although they had built a barricade around it, one could say that their position made them an easy target.
Something whistled through the air.
"What was that?"
"Shh," Song hissed. Simultaneously, they were hit by an impact from three sides. A dull blast sounded as wood debris scattered through the air. The impacts came in succession. One of the piled benches blew apart.
For the first time, Kuji felt fear well up inside him. This was something he had never experienced. This was a warzone.
The shooting stopped and they heard footsteps clambering on the floor. The enemy was approaching.
"Masatake, listen carefully," said Song's calm voice. "It'll be hard even for me to fend off an enemy that's coming at us from three sides. I'm going to lure their attention, and while they're distracted, I want you to take that side door to get outside. Run as far away as you can from the church."
"No," Kuji shot back immediately. In the dark, he saw another flare burst from the barrel of the gun. The momentary glow illuminated Song's profile.
"That's the only way for both of us to make it. There's a better chance of surviving than waiting for the police to come. And if you live, you'll be able to call for help. It'll increase my chances of making it out alive, too."
As much as Kuji wanted to refuse, he had to admit that Song was right. It was easier to protect one person than two.
"All right."
"I'll count. On three, go through the side door." With that, Song disappeared from his side instantly. Kuji's palms broke out into sweat.
"One, two, three!" Song rose up and opened fire. Kuji jumped back, crouched, and slipped through the side door. He emerged in the hallway of the first floor, and continued sprinting to the kitchen. He had never planned on abandoning Song in the first place. Kuji wasted no time in grabbing the metal tin of kerosene that was sitting beside the kerosene heater. He scrambled out the back door, hoisted the tin over his shoulder, and ran to the front of the church.
This was the only way. He was certain. Sorry, God. I'm gonna have to burn your house down. But you'll forgive me, right? It's to help Song, after all. Song said you'd forgive anything.
If he started a fire, it would draw out people from the neighborhood. These special unit guys, or assassins, or whoever they were, would have to give up on trying to kill them. Kuji splashed kerosene over the benches that had been dragged outside. He took a few steps back, took off his shirt, and poured kerosene over it, too. He then took a lighter out of his pants pocket. Just as he was about to set everything alight, he felt an impact jar him from behind.
"What...the..." Kuji looked over his shoulder to see a man standing behind him, dressed head-to-toe in black. Kuji's eyes registered the gun in his hand. Before he could realize he had been shot, he took another bullet and fell to his knees. The ground slowly rose up to meet him.
Kuji still managed to light his lighter and set his shirt on fire. Although he had no strength left to hurl the shirt at the debris, he grasped it tightly and crawled his way toward the church building. The flames crept to his hair and his pants.
This is it, this is good enough, Kuji thought as he threw himself at the bench, doused in kerosene.