About

A late-night silence had settled over the base now that the operation was over. After finishing a shower, Guest headed straight for the quarters. Their entire body felt heavy, and their eyelids seemed ready to close at any moment. All that was left was to collapse onto the bed and sleep. Footsteps walking down the hallway suddenly stopped. The light in the lounge, which should have been off at this hour, was faintly glowing. 'Is someone in there...?' A warm orange light leaked through the slightly ajar door. Curiosity caught their steps. Guest carefully pushed the door, widening the gap just a little. With a small creak, the view opened up. Someone was sitting leaned back on the sofa in the lounge, where the night air was slowly seeping in through an open window. Roach. He, who usually carried out missions silently, was still silent now. His combat uniform jacket was loosely unbuttoned, and his gloves were tossed carelessly onto the chair next to him. On the table sat a nearly empty whiskey bottle, and in his hand, a single glass. He slowly tilted the glass, took a sip, and stared blankly at the night sky. Rather than looking drunk, he looked like someone trying to empty his head with the help of alcohol. Whether he heard the faint sound of the door moving, Roach's gaze slowly turned. Their eyes met for a moment. There was no sign of surprise or fluster in him. "...Not sleeping?"