──It was raining.
Outside the entryway, the world was swallowed by the darkness of night, with only the raindrops caught in the streetlights trailing diagonally like threads of white.
My younger self stood in the hallway, staring at my father's back as he put on his shoes.
Was I still in elementary school back then? In the dream, both the clothes he wore and the color of the umbrella in the entryway were terribly hazy. Yet the damp air drifting in through the open door and the sirens wailing relentlessly in the distance felt far sharper than reality.
"Where are you going?"
A child's voice reached his back.
Having finished slipping into his shoes, my father looked over his shoulder with his hand still resting on the front door.
I couldn't see his face.
Whether it was because of the backlighting or because it had simply faded from memory, no matter how hard I strained my eyes, his features remained obscured in dark shadow.
"I'm just going to go check on something."
"Check on what?"
"It seems like someone's in trouble."
My father's voice was gentle, carrying the easy cadence of someone stepping out to the neighborhood convenience store.
Even so, my younger self clutched the hem of his shirt.
"Don't go."
"I'll be right back."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
My father reached for my head.
His large palm brushed against my hair. The moment I tried to hold on to that sensation, the world wavered violently.
The rainy night behind him dissolved into thick, black smoke.
The wail of sirens surged closer, and flashing red lights washed over the entryway walls again and again.
"Dad."
I tried to call out to stop him, but no voice came.
Turning his back to me, my father stepped into the rain and smoke.
I have to go after him.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, my feet remained glued to the floor, refusing to budge.
I reached out desperately toward his receding figure.
"Wait."
By the time I finally found my voice, he had already vanished past the threshold.
Through the narrowing gap of the closing door, a sliver of red light cut through.
"Dad!"
◇◇◇
When I opened my eyes, a white ceiling filled my vision.
At the edge of my blurry sight, a square fixture cast a diffused glow.
There was no entryway, no rain, and no sign of my father's back.
What met my nose wasn't the damp night air, but the sterile scent of antiseptic.
The moment I tried to inhale, a sharp pain tore through the back of my throat.
"...Ngh."
A breathless gasp escaped me.
A heavy pressure weighed on my chest, and whenever I attempted a deep breath, a cough threatened to surge up. A clear tube ran to my mouth, delivering cool air beneath my nose.
A hospital.
It took a few moments for the reality to sink in.
As I tried to push myself up, a searing pain shot through my right shoulder.
Wincing reflexively, I froze.
Thick bandages were wrapped from my right shoulder down to my upper arm. The limb was securely immobilized, and even the slightest twitch sent a deep, feverish ache radiating outward.
What happened?
The instant I asked myself that, black smoke seemed to overlap with the white ceiling.
The burning corridor.
Mikage's trembling frame against my back.
The collapsing ceiling.
The scorching heat.
And the beam of white light piercing through the smoke.
"Mikage..."
A raspy whisper slipped from my throat.
It sounded so feeble I could hardly believe it was my own, barely registering as a voice.
Turning my head to the left, I saw my mother sitting on a chair beside the bed.
She was asleep, slumped over the mattress with her arms folded under her. Her hair, usually tied neatly in the back, was slightly frayed, with a few loose strands brushing against her cheek.
Just as I wondered why she was sleeping there, yesterday's memories rushed back all at once.
The shopping mall.
The fire.
Mikage, left behind.
Running back into the building despite the firefighters holding me back.
Did I... make it?
Before that realization could even settle, another question gripped my chest.
What happened to Mikage?
I remembered her being carried out by the firefighters. But after that, my memory went completely blank.
When I tried calling out to Mom again, a dry cough caught in my throat.
At the sound, her shoulders jerked.
"Naoki?"
Snapping her head up, Mom realized my eyes were open and immediately stood, her chair scraping against the floor.
"Naoki, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"
Her voice trembled.
I tried to answer, but the pain in my throat kept me from forming the words. Instead, I gave a small nod, and her face crumpled with emotion.
"Thank goodness..."
She wrapped both of her hands around my left.
Her grip was tight, her fingers quivering faintly against my skin.
"Truly, thank goodness..."
Repeating the words over and over, Mom lowered her head. A tear slipped from her cheek, landing softly against the back of my hand.
Seeing her cry sent a heavy pang through my chest.
"I'm... sorry..."
I managed to force the words out, but my voice broke off, hoarse and strained.
Lifting her head, Mom shook it immediately.
"Don't speak. Your throat is injured, so you shouldn't force yourself to talk right now."
Even so, she refused to let go of my hand.
Reaching for the nurse call button by the bed, she informed the staff that I had regained consciousness.
After that brief exchange, silence settled over the room once more.
The sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains was bright; it was clearly past early morning. Outside, the cicadas buzzed, carrying the thick heat of summer straight into the sealed room.
The fire had broken out in the evening.
How long had I been out?
Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I saw it was just past eleven in the morning. The date showed Sunday—the day after the fire.
Only a single night had passed.
Yet the time spent inside the burning mall felt as distant as something from days ago.
"The girl... brought in with me..."
Enduring the raw ache in my throat, I slowly pieced the words together.
Mom's expression clouded over.
"A girl?"
"Yeah... Mikage."
"Is she a friend of yours?"
Her question caught me off guard, leaving me at a loss.
We weren't close enough to be called friends.
We just went to the same school, and until yesterday, we had never spoken a word to each other. We only knew of each other's names and faces, and on her end, she probably hadn't even recognized me.
"A student... from school."
"Not a friend?"
I gave a faint shake of my head.
Mom's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly pressed her lips together, swallowing whatever she had been about to say.
"If it's that girl, I was told she's safe."
The tight knot in my chest loosened slightly.
"Really?"
"Yes. She was taken to a different hospital, but they said her life isn't in danger. She hurt her leg and inhaled some smoke, but she's already conscious."
The tension left my body, and I sank my head back into the pillow.
She was safe.
At the very least, I had kept my promise to get her out.
"Thank goodness..."
The breath slipped out along with the words.
Mom watched me, but an emotion entirely separate from relief shadowed her face.
"Naoki."
She called my name softly.
"Why did you do something so reckless?"
There was no anger in her voice.
Instead, it was laced with a deep, fragile terror that felt on the verge of breaking.
"The firefighters tried to stop you, didn't they? They told you it was dangerous, but you still ran back inside..."
I didn't know how much she had heard.
The firefighters, the police, or perhaps a bystander who had seen it all must have told her.
"Because... I knew Mikage was still in there."
"Even so, that doesn't mean you should have gone in."
Her grip on my fingers tightened.
"There were firefighters on the scene. People trained to rescue others were getting ready. So why did you, a high school boy, have to go in all by yourself?"
I couldn't say a word in response.
She was entirely right.
What I did was by no means commendable. One wrong move, and far from saving anyone, I could have become an extra burden for the firefighters and dragged Mikage down with me.
I had simply gotten lucky.
Lucky that I could enter through the service door, lucky that I found the trail of things she dropped, and lucky that we reached the firefighters even after the ceiling collapsed.
If even a single one of those factors had gone wrong, I wouldn't be lying here right now.
"I'm sorry."
I couldn't find anything else to say.
Still holding my hand, Mom looked down.
"When I got the call, I couldn't make sense of what they were saying."
The emotions she had been holding back slowly surfaced in her voice.
"They told me you were rushed from the fire and hadn't woken up... The entire way to the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking about it. What if you never opened your eyes again?"
"Mom..."
"I couldn't even tell Koharu what was happening right away. She kept calling your phone over and over because you hadn't come home from the store. She was running through the crowd of evacuees, screaming your name."
I glanced at my phone on the bedside table.
The screen was dark, but it was undoubtedly flooded with missed calls and messages.
"I thought... another person precious to me wasn't going to come home."
Her voice cracked.
Those words hit me deep in my chest.
In my mind's eye, the back I had seen in my dream reappeared.
The rainy night.
The open door.
My father, who promised he would be right back, disappearing into the dark.
I instinctively squeezed my left hand.
Mom hadn't said his name.
Even so, I knew exactly what she was remembering.
"I'm sorry."
When I apologized again, she wiped her eyes and let out a long, trembling breath.
"I'm not asking for an apology."
She turned her gaze back to me.
"I understand that you couldn't just turn your back on someone in trouble. And I'm genuinely relieved that the girl you saved is okay."
She paused, wrapping both of her hands around mine again.
"But that doesn't mean it would have been okay if you didn't come back."
Her voice was quiet.
That was precisely why her words cut so deep.
"Don't ever think it doesn't matter what happens to you just to save someone else. Never forget that if you were gone, there are people who would be left behind in tears, Naoki."
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, the door clicked open.
A nurse stepped in, followed by a doctor in a white coat.
After a brief checkup and routine questions, a penlight was shone into my eyes. Reviewing my oxygen levels and listening to my chest, the doctor glanced down at his chart and began to explain my condition.
Inhaling so much smoke had caused inflammation in my throat and airways.
While my breathing was currently stable, they needed to monitor my condition closely.
I had sustained burns from my right shoulder to my upper arm, which would require ongoing treatment and dressing changes.
"Fortunately, your life is not in danger. However, you need absolute rest for the next few days. Until the swelling in your throat goes down, please avoid speaking as much as possible."
"How long... will he need to stay?" Mom asked.
"It depends on his recovery, but we are looking at about a week. Depending on how the burns heal, it could be slightly longer."
A week.
I tallied the days in my head.
There were only about eight days left of summer vacation.
"The new semester..."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, drawing the doctor's attention.
"Attending from the very first day will likely be difficult. Even after you are discharged, you shouldn't put any strain on your right arm for a while. Explain the situation to your school, and take your time returning when you feel up to it."
Yesterday, when the fire happened, was the Saturday right before the final week of summer break.
Mikage and her group had likely been wearing their uniforms because they were heading back from a career guidance seminar held for select students. Since I wasn't part of that group, I hadn't gone to school and had just been out running an errand for Mom.
Once the new semester started, we would be walking the halls of the same building again.
Would Mikage be out of the hospital by then?
I had no idea how severe her leg injury was. Even if her life wasn't in danger, the terror of being trapped in that blaze wouldn't fade easily.
When the doctor and nurse left the room, Mom stood up, saying she was going to call Koharu.
"I'll let her know you're awake. She's been waiting this whole time."
"Okay."
"I'll be right back. If you need anything, make sure you press the nurse call button, all right?"
After making sure I understood, she stepped out into the hallway.
The door clicked shut, leaving me in silence.
Outside the window, trees caught in the summer sun swayed gently in the breeze. White clouds drifted across a clear blue sky, looking nothing like the dark, smoke-choked air from yesterday.
I reached out with my left hand toward the phone on the bedside table.
Picking up the device connected to its charging cable, I woke the screen. A flood of notifications from Koharu and my friends filled the display, their sheer volume making me pause.
First, though, I opened the news.
Bringing up the search page, several articles covering the shopping mall fire immediately popped up. The cause of the fire was still under investigation. While multiple people had been transported to hospitals, there were no reported fatalities.
Reading that single line, I finally let out the breath I had been holding.
No one had died.
Mikage was alive.
That alone should have been more than enough.
I locked the screen and set the phone back down.
Closing my eyes, the dark corridor instantly flashed across my mind.
The slender arms clinging to my back.
The trembling voice against my ear.
I'm scared, but... I'll believe in you...
Mikage didn't know my name.
With all the smoke, she probably hadn't even seen my face clearly.
Even though I had promised to tell her once we made it out, in the end, I never got the chance to introduce myself.
If... we make it outside... do you want to go... together...?
The crepe place that had just opened near the station.
Now that she had regained consciousness, did she still remember a promise made in the middle of a burning building?
Mikage herself had said she might forget.
Not knowing my face, nor my voice.
An unrealistic promise shared with someone whose name she didn't even know.
Once she left the hospital and returned to daily life, it would probably fade like a dream.
Even so, I still remembered.
"Don't forget... your promise."
Right before the firefighters pulled us apart, that was what Mikage had said.
I didn't know if my reply had reached her.
My memory of my final words was hazy, too.
All I knew was that I had tried to tell her not to worry.
Feeling the dull throb deep in my right shoulder, I stared up at the ceiling.
Why did I go back?
Even when Mom asked, I couldn't give her a clear answer.
Because I found out Mikage was inside.
That wasn't a lie.
Yet I knew that wasn't the whole truth, either.
In the dream, my father had said someone was in trouble.
He promised to be right back, and then vanished into the rain.
I hadn't been able to chase after him.
Unable to stop him, unable to follow, I had simply stood there, staring at the closed door.
It wasn't as though I remembered everything from that day.
If anything, the harder I tried to recall it, the thicker the white haze became, obscuring the most important parts.
Even so, the moment I learned Mikage was trapped, the impulse that pushed my legs back toward the building was tied to my father's back.
I couldn't shake that feeling.
I didn't think what I did was right.
Nor could I say I would make the same choice if put in that situation again.
It was just that, in that moment, going home while leaving Mikage behind hadn't felt like an option at all.
The sunlight from the window cast a faint reflection across the white ceiling.
The words I had repeated over and over in the fire now echoed in my own chest.
"'Don't worry,' huh..."
Whispering in a raspy voice sent a faint sting through my throat.
Even so, the corners of my mouth lifted slightly.
"I haven't forgotten."
In the empty hospital room, I spoke to the person with whom I had yet to fulfill that promise.
The faint words melted into the hum of cicadas drifting in from outside, fading quietly into the still air.