Chapter 6:
Joon's bond with the crew continued to grow. Days passed in a rhythm of laughter, training, and moments of quiet reflection. Each rescue, every call, tied him closer to this life, making the firehouse feel like a second home.
But even in the best moments, he couldn't ignore the weight of uncertainty. He kept his questions buried deep, unsure if the answers would bring him peace or make everything unravel.
One quiet afternoon, Joon sat in the kitchen polishing a helmet, lost in thought. Hyunwoo was at the stove, humming a tune as he stirred a pot of soup. The aroma filled the air, comforting in its simplicity.
"You've gotten good at this," Hyunwoo said, nodding toward the helmet.
Joon chuckled. "I guess so. It's all about repetition, right?"
Hyunwoo set the ladle down and turned to face him. "That's one way to look at it. But it's also about taking pride in what you do, no matter how small."
The words struck a chord. Joon realized how much he'd been savoring even the simplest moments in this life. It wasn't just about firefighting—it was about the connections, the shared meals, and the little routines that made up their days.
"Did you always want to be a firefighter?" Joon asked.
Hyunwoo leaned against the counter, his gaze thoughtful. "Not really. I kind of stumbled into it. But once I started, I realized it wasn't about the job itself—it was about being there for people when they needed it most."
Joon nodded, the words settling deep in his heart.
The next call wasn't for a blaze or a rescue—it was for a community outreach event. The firehouse was hosting a safety workshop for local kids, teaching them about fire prevention and what to do in an emergency.
Joon found himself standing in front of a group of wide-eyed children, holding a fire extinguisher.
"Okay, who can tell me what to do if you see smoke in your house?" he asked.
A little girl raised her hand timidly. "Get low and crawl?"
"That's right!" Joon said, smiling. "Smoke rises, so staying low helps you breathe better and see where you're going."
As the kids practiced using a small extinguisher on a controlled flame, Joon couldn't help but feel a deep sense of fulfillment. It wasn't the adrenaline of a rescue or the camaraderie of the crew—it was the knowledge that they were planting seeds of safety and courage in young hearts.
When the event ended, the children waved goodbye, their faces lit with excitement. Joon watched them go, his heart lighter than it had been in days.
That evening, Joon sat on the rooftop of the firehouse, staring out at the city lights. The air was cool, and the sounds of Seoul buzzed faintly in the distance.
He thought about the little girl's timid smile, the way the crew had laughed together over lunch, and Hyunwoo's quiet wisdom.
"Is this enough?" he murmured to himself.
The answer was elusive, but he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: contentment.
As he stood to head back inside, a faint voice whispered in his mind. It was the same voice he'd heard when he first woke in the hospital as a doctor.
This life is not the last.
Joon froze, his heart racing.
"Who are you?" he said aloud, but only the wind answered.
He gritted his teeth, a mixture of anger and fear bubbling to the surface. "Why are you doing this to me?"
There was no response, only the weight of the silence pressing down on him.
The alarm sounded just after midnight. Joon was on his feet instantly, adrenaline surging. The crew moved with practiced precision, the fire truck rumbling to life as they raced toward the scene.
It was an apartment fire, flames licking at the night sky as residents gathered outside.
"Everyone ready?" Captain Seo asked, her voice calm but firm.
Joon nodded, his gear already in place.
Inside the building, the heat was oppressive. Joon followed Mina into the smoke-filled corridors, their movements synchronized. They found a woman clutching a baby, her face streaked with soot.
"It's okay," Joon said, reaching out to her. "We're here to help."
Mina took the baby while Joon helped the woman to her feet. Together, they guided her toward the exit.
As they emerged into the cool night air, relief washed over Joon. But just as he turned to head back in, a loud crash echoed behind him.
"Hyunwoo's still inside!" Mina shouted, her voice tight with panic.
Joon didn't hesitate. He sprinted back into the building, the heat slamming into him like a wall.
"Hyunwoo!" he called, his voice muffled by the smoke.
A faint cough answered, and Joon followed the sound. He found Hyunwoo slumped against a wall, his breathing labored.
"Come on," Joon said, gripping his arm. "I've got you."
Hyunwoo's weight was heavy, but Joon pushed forward, every step a battle against the heat and smoke.
Finally, they burst out into the open air, collapsing onto the pavement. The crew rushed to their side, pulling Hyunwoo to safety.
Joon lay on the ground, his chest heaving. His vision blurred, and a strange calm settled over him.
For a moment, he thought he might be slipping away again.
But this time, he didn't feel fear—only a quiet resolve.