Chapter 7:
Joon woke to the faint hum of machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic. The white ceiling above him was unfamiliar, and for a moment, panic flickered in his chest.
But then he turned his head and saw Hyunwoo sitting beside him, his arm in a sling and a weary smile on his face.
"You're awake," Hyunwoo said softly.
Joon blinked. "What happened?"
"You passed out after pulling me out of that building," Hyunwoo said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Smoke inhalation. The doctors said you'll be fine after some rest."
Joon exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. "And you? Are you okay?"
Hyunwoo nodded. "Thanks to you."
The door opened, and Captain Seo stepped in, her expression unreadable. She walked to the side of the bed, her hands on her hips.
"You've got guts, Joon," she said, her voice gruff. "But don't scare us like that again."
Joon managed a weak smile. "I'll try my best."
Her gaze softened. "You did good. Get some rest. We'll see you back at the firehouse soon."
The next few days in the hospital passed in a haze of visitors and recovery. The crew stopped by in shifts, bringing snacks and stories to keep him entertained. Even Jihoon managed to be serious for five minutes, telling Joon that the team wasn't the same without him.
As Joon sat by the window, watching the city bustle below, he thought about how much these people had come to mean to him. They weren't just his coworkers—they were his family.
But beneath the warmth of their friendship, the voice from the rooftop lingered in his mind.
This life is not the last.
Joon clenched his fists. He didn't want to leave. Not now, not when he'd finally found something worth holding onto.
"What do you want from me?" he whispered, but the silence offered no answers.
True to her word, Seo had Joon back on shift as soon as the doctors cleared him. The crew welcomed him with a mix of teasing and genuine relief, and Joon found himself falling back into the rhythm of their days.
But something had shifted. Joon was more aware of the moments that passed—the way the sun painted the firehouse in warm hues at dusk, the sound of Mina's laughter echoing in the garage, the quiet wisdom in Hyunwoo's eyes.
He didn't know how long he had in this life, but he was determined to make every second count.
One evening, after a quiet shift, the crew decided to visit a local street festival. The vibrant lights, the scent of sizzling food, and the lively music filled the air with an infectious energy.
Joon walked among the crowd, soaking in the atmosphere. Mina dragged Jihoon to a game booth, while Kang and Seo wandered off to sample food from a vendor.
Hyunwoo fell into step beside Joon, a stick of grilled meat in his hand.
"You seem different lately," Hyunwoo said.
Joon raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"Like you're trying to memorize everything," Hyunwoo said, his tone light but his eyes searching.
Joon hesitated, then shrugged. "Maybe I just want to appreciate what I have."
Hyunwoo nodded, his gaze turning to the lanterns hanging above. "It's a good way to live."
As the night wore on, Joon found himself surrounded by laughter and warmth. The festival felt like a moment suspended in time, a snapshot of happiness he wished he could hold onto forever.
But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that his time in this life was running out.
The next call came just before dawn. A fire had broken out in an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city.
When they arrived, the flames were already consuming the structure, casting eerie shadows against the dark sky.
"This one's bad," Seo said grimly. "Stay sharp."
Joon moved with the crew, his senses heightened. Inside, the heat was suffocating, the smoke thick and blinding. They worked methodically, clearing the building room by room.
Joon heard a faint sound—a child's cry—cutting through the chaos. He turned toward the noise, his heart pounding.
"Seo! I hear someone!" he called, but the roar of the fire swallowed his words.
Without waiting, Joon followed the sound, weaving through the burning debris. He found a young boy curled in the corner of a room, tears streaming down his soot-covered face.
"It's okay," Joon said, crouching beside him. "I'm going to get you out."
He lifted the boy into his arms, shielding him from the heat as he made his way back. The flames seemed to close in, the air growing thinner with each step.
Just as he reached the exit, a beam above him gave way. Joon barely had time to react, twisting his body to shield the boy as the debris came crashing down.
Pain flared through his side, and the world tilted.
Joon lay on the ground, the boy safe in his arms as shouts and footsteps approached. His vision blurred, the edges darkening.
He felt the weight of his injuries, the pull of something deep and inevitable.
As the boy was lifted from his grasp, Joon closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips.
This was enough.
When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed.