Ch.94Chapter 14. Accident (9)

The Kashafire is a yokai that steals the corpses of evil people.

I’m not sure how this yokai is described in the original folklore. I was interested in light novels, not Japanese folklore studies.

But in this light novel, it was a “cat.”

A cat that looked as if its entire body had been burned.

Since I was Korean in my previous life, when I hear “Kashafire,” I first think of a fire cart as a weapon. Perhaps that’s what it looked like in the original source?

Not in the sense of shooting rockets, but something like a cart on fire. You know, like something you’d see in a depiction of hell.

Considering it steals the corpses of evil people, there must be a connection.

So even as I headed toward the fire scene, I kept thinking:

It’s not something we can prevent in advance. The incident happened first, and evil people were sacrificed in the process.

I may not have the right to judge them, but do I need to sympathize with those who died after getting caught up in an accident?

…

Like back then, I don’t need to step up. I’m not a firefighter anymore.

“Are you worried?” Yuka asked. My expression must have been too transparent.

“…No.”

“You don’t need to worry too much.”

I tried to deny it, but of course Yuka didn’t fully believe me. Well, I wouldn’t either. When someone who just had a worried expression says “I’m fine,” it’s not convincing at all.

“I’m here, and so is Koko.”

As Yuka said this, a long object wrapped in cloth hung from her shoulder.

It was Yuka’s sword, “Muname.”

Since last summer, Yuka always packed that sword with her belongings. As if she wouldn’t borrow my blood anymore.

She even brought it when we went to a study camp for Koko’s education.

…We can’t go on overseas trips, huh? Or could we somehow get it through customs as an art piece? There might be some government agreements about this.

“…Yeah.”

Yuka’s words had an effect.

I briefly thought about something else, and I definitely felt more reassured than when I was alone.

Yuka is much better at fighting than I am. Honestly, my fighting skills are just swinging a sword in the air without knowing anything. I’ve gained some experience, but there’s still a big difference between me and Yuka, who received systematic training.

I wonder if Kosuzu, who was active in Ota Ward, suddenly moved to Minato Ward. What does that have to do with us walking home from school?

Or maybe the Kashafire just happened to appear here by coincidence.

There’s no need to think about it right now.

I just need to resolve the situation. If we can eliminate the Kashafire, at least we won’t have to worry about what happens after tomorrow.

“Alright.”

I nodded to Yuka. She showed a faint smile on her lips and quickened her pace.

“…Uh.”

Koko suddenly made a sound as if she was a bit anxious.

…There was an acrid smell. Definitely the smell of something burning.

I could hear people murmuring, with screams mixed in.

And above all, the sound of burning.

The sound of something cracking.

…This wasn’t just the sound of a single house burning.

When Yuka and I started running, Koko followed a beat later.

Looking back, I could see fear-like emotions on Koko’s face.

…Fire.

I don’t know about this novel, but in all sorts of folklore and creative works, fire is a weakness for “those who regenerate.”

Perhaps Koko shares that common trait.

“…”

Maybe I should have sent Koko home.

No, in this situation, rather—

“…Ah.”

I heard Yuka’s voice and looked ahead again.

I felt the heat on my face.

Unlike the summer sun, this was a terribly dry and harmful heat.

When a building catches fire, it can damage buildings across the street wide enough for two cars to pass. Fire is much hotter than people think, and it has enough heat to burn things even outside the visible red part.

“This is…”

The fire was at some mansion.

About 10 stories high? It wasn’t a full-scale high-rise apartment with 20 or 30 floors, but it was quite wide. Being in the middle of Minato Ward, the interior was probably quite luxurious and spacious.

From the third floor up, the mansion was burning fiercely. Judging by the shape of the fire, the flames had already consumed the third to fifth floors.

I frowned and looked around.

No fire trucks had arrived yet, despite the situation?

Fire spreads faster than you might think, but also not as fast as you might imagine. Of course, it depends on the material. Unless the exterior was made of flammable material, the fire wouldn’t spread this much in just a few minutes before the fire trucks arrived.

“…Is this the Kashafire?”

Yuka asked with a slightly stunned expression.

I know, right.

The Kashafire is a yokai that steals the corpses of sinners.

Would a fire caused by such a yokai spread this large? Even if it’s a malicious being, it wouldn’t unnecessarily expand the accident. There’s no reason to.

Suddenly, something came to mind.

‘Family of three dead.’

Right. The fraudster couple who died last time had a child. I don’t know how harmonious their family was, or if the child was abused by the parents.

But one thing is certain: the child died too.

And then, belatedly, I realized a fact I had overlooked.

The Kashafire targets sinners, but it doesn’t care about other beings at all.

Just as a lion chasing a gazelle doesn’t care about the insects crushed under its feet, the Kashafire simply vanishes after targeting its prey, without thinking about cleaning up the situation.

That’s what must have happened after the entire family died.

Sasaki and Shii got involved in the incident in the original work for the same reason.

And now this.

I looked around urgently again. I also tried to listen. Fire truck sirens are loud enough to be heard from far away, even through closed car windows. If they had departed, we should have heard them from a distance by now.

Why?

I took out my phone to make a call, but—

“No, there’s a fire here! I reported it just now…!”

I heard an urgent voice nearby.

Turning my head, I saw a girl about my age shouting into her phone.

“What do you mean you can’t connect? That’s…”

They can’t connect?

When you call an emergency number, the call first goes to a central center that receives all reports in that area. Then, when the caller explains where and how the situation occurred, they contact the nearest center.

Since fire stations can’t come from far away, they build multiple centers like police boxes and stand by to dispatch immediately from the closest location.

Usually, even for reports of a little smoke or a burning smell, two large red fire trucks and an ambulance are dispatched, and police patrols in the area immediately turn their cars toward the reporter’s location.

There were police here.

But the crucial fire trucks hadn’t arrived.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?”

When I spoke to the girl, she turned to me with a start.

She was a girl with a slightly sun-tanned face. She looked familiar.

But I thought this wasn’t the time to think about that.

There were traces of tears in her eyes. Her face had some soot on it, and there were red, swollen areas on her hands. Had she been burned?

“Ah, inside, my younger sibling…”

“…”

That wasn’t what I had asked, but I understand why she answered that way.

If you have family trapped inside, you’d be worried.

I looked up at the mansion again.

Black smoke was billowing out. If there were people inside, they would have lost consciousness from smoke inhalation before being burned by the fire. Given how long the fire had been burning, there might be no hope.

But.

I looked back at the girl.

No, I looked at the people gathered around.

Everyone’s faces were full of worry. Some had marks on their clothes from rushing out during the fire.

“…”

“Wait.”

As I was lost in thought, Yuka grabbed my shoulder.

“You’re not thinking of going in, are you? The fire department will be here soon. We can’t handle a fire like that.”

She’s right.

You can’t cut fire with a sword. Cutting burning objects doesn’t extinguish the fire either.

Fire isn’t like a yokai’s nest. It’s a merciless entity that devours everything around it just by burning fiercely.

But.

“…”

After thinking for a moment,

“Alright.”

I answered that way for now.

Yuka stared at me. As if I might disappear at any moment.

Yuka gripped my arm more firmly and said,

“And that person.”

At Yuka’s words, I turned toward the girl who had been crying earlier.

“…Don’t you remember? She’s the one who tried to do bad things to you.”

“…Ah.”

Now I remember.

The situation back then was intense, but the memory of the kids who tried to take me to the bathroom to assault me was pushed far back in my mind.

It was never a priority to begin with. Human punches are nothing compared to a yokai’s claws or fangs.

Besides, the violence from ordinary students probably couldn’t kill me completely.

I know she’s cruel enough to drive a classmate to suicide. But even so—

“Lives don’t have degrees of importance.”

Yuka probably didn’t mean it that way.

Rather than saying “it’s okay if the sibling of such a person dies,” she’s probably saying there’s no need to risk my life for someone who was hostile to me.

I don’t think she would be grateful even if I went in. Even without prior hostility, many people criticize firefighters.

Yet it’s a necessary profession.

Injuries have degrees of severity. Sometimes you need to categorize people based on that.

But in the rescue process, the lives being saved have no degrees of importance. Regardless of gender, age, or the person’s past.

If someone alive is within reach, you just bring them out.

If rescuers start judging lives by their own standards, the only ones who would step up would be the victims’ families.

We can’t let such people jump into the flames.

“Many people will die if we’re even a minute late.”

I hate fire.

I don’t have a single good memory associated with it.

“In this situation, if no fire trucks are coming, something has gone seriously wrong.”

How has it gone wrong? I have no way of knowing. Whether Kosuzu is involved or not.

“That doesn’t mean you need to go.”

Yuka said.

Yes, that’s the kind of character she is.

Righteous but also realistic.

In [Tokyo Slayers], Sasaki was the character with that kind of foolish diligence.

“…”

I thought for a moment.

Looking around, not a single person was trying to enter. That’s a wise choice. Going in would only add one more corpse.

You need proper protective gear to fight flames.

“Kotone?”

Seeing our atmosphere, Koko intervened. Her eyes looking at me were pitiful.

Once again, I wavered a bit.

I…

“Sorry, Yuka. Koko.”

It’s not a question of whether to do it or not.

It’s just a situation where someone who can do something should do it.

“Wait!?”

Yuka shouted at me, and people around turned to look.

Yuka dropped the bag she was holding in her other hand and quickly tried to grab my hand, but I was a bit faster.

By the time Yuka grabbed my left arm, my teeth were already biting firmly into my wrist.

I pulled my head back.

It wasn’t much, but flesh was torn away. And a stream of blood flowed.

After a burning pain, red eyes staring at me from my wrist.

*

“Hmm.”

When I stated my request, Nirlas fell into thought for a moment.

“This is the longest request you’ve made to me. You haven’t forgotten that all those preparations will be made with your blood, have you?”

“Of course.”

I answered lightly.

“Then I’m even more curious.”

Nirlas approached me with great interest. Well, I couldn’t see him, but that’s how I felt.

“I don’t understand why you would go that far. Is there a reason to risk your life? You don’t seem to want to be a hero.”

“…”

I thought for a moment.

That’s right.

Honestly, it doesn’t make logical sense.

Of course, there are many people in the world, including those who run like mad through smoke-filled corridors, banging on doors to evacuate residents. Some die trying to save others without thinking about their own lives.

I… am not such a person.

Why did I become a firefighter?

…Probably just because it looked cool.

My first toy as a child was a red fire truck. I thought it was really cool. That’s probably all there was to it.

“There’s a younger sibling inside.”

When I said that, Nirlas made a pleased snorting sound.

“You have a younger sibling by your side too.”

Koko.

“What will you do if you die?”

“If I thought I was going to die, I wouldn’t be trying to go in.”

“I’m curious about your reasoning.”

“There’s the prophecy. That I’ll die at the hands of the being I trust most. Until then, I’ll definitely stay alive.”

I’ve thought about it before.

What if I get severely injured and become brain dead or a vegetable? Imagining Yuka beside me, finally unable to bear it and helping me die peacefully.

But no matter how I think about it, that’s going too far. Kudan’s prophecy isn’t about individuals. I don’t think something big would happen to the world if I quietly received euthanasia.

Above all, I’ve already experienced slipping in the bathroom and having my neck turn in a strange direction.

A state of living without being able to die is meaningless to me. Either dead or alive. Probably one of the two.

Fire is scary, though. As I thought about Koko, my regenerative ability might be useless against fire.

That’s why I’m making this request.

“An interesting speculation.”

Though speaking somewhat mockingly, Nirlas didn’t deny my words.

“But there’s still a problem. Getting you out of there, creating protective gear against fire, maintaining it for a long time. What are you going to give me in return for all that? I’m curious what you have right now that’s worth that much.”

He’s asking me to offer something precious.

I’ve thought about that.

“…I’ll tell you my story.”

Nirlas didn’t say anything for a moment. He’s probably weighing which option is more beneficial.

Hearing about my past from my own mouth. Or saving it for later and revealing it slowly.

“Very well.”

Nirlas chose the former.

*

My story, huh.

The part Nirlas would like is probably the part that became my trauma.

The reason I lived like a shut-in for a long time afterward. The incident where my entire family died.

There’s a sequel that follows directly.

Lives don’t have degrees of importance.

But injuries do have degrees of severity.

There’s something called triage. It’s classifying how serious a patient’s condition is.

People who are in critical condition and need immediate treatment. Patients who don’t need immediate treatment but require attention. People who are fine as they are.

And people who will die no matter what, or those who are already dead.

My younger sibling and my parents were already dead. The car was burning, and water was being poured to extinguish it, but our car wasn’t the only one on fire.

I heard screams. There were survivors in other cars.

My clearly dead family members couldn’t be helped right away. First, the living people.

For example, the truck driver who was the main cause of completely crushing our family’s car.

I forcibly opened the door that was twisted and wouldn’t open properly, and pulled out the injured person.

He didn’t answer properly to any questions. Even when asked where and how he was hurt, he just kept his mouth shut.

Of course, he wouldn’t know that the person in front of him was a family member of the people he had killed.

I wanted to tell him that to his face.

…But what could I do?

His leg was broken. Watching the paramedic set his leg, I ran toward other cars.

The more I ran, the further I got from my family trapped in the car.

With a crowbar, I broke car windows, opened doors, and pulled out unconscious people.

When I finished the job, my jaw hurt. When I opened my mouth, there was a slightly sweet smell.

Sitting down in the middle of the road with my head bowed, my colleagues left me alone for a long time without saying anything.

“…”

I felt heat on my face.

When I opened my eyes, I was already inside the building.

There was still more smoke than fire visible.

Touching my mouth, I felt something smooth like plastic covering it.

An oxygen respirator.

…Who would think blood could create such a thing? No, it probably can’t be created in the first place. Not without the power of an outer god.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

But what could I do?

I took a step forward.

And shouted.

“Is anyone there!? Is there anyone inside!?”