The Fire: The School
The Insei building that most of the potential young Go players went to was five stories tall, and had seven floors. As a building itself, it had a perimeter of a hundred and twelve meters, and sixteen flights of stairs. The rooftop couldn't exactly provide a perfect view of Tokyo, though - it was impeded by skyscrapers in all directions. This, however, did not stop the view of the people on the streets, in which the roof offered. For the most part, the roof had seen its share of weepers (who had lost their matches), hysterically cheery kids (who obviously won their matches), and basically bored people who had no where else to eat lunch or hang out. No one, though, was stupid enough to climb the fence surrounding the roof - who would want to fall? Therefore, there had been no deaths recorded on the Insei building's death records just yet. That record, however, was in question as of now.
The teachers of the Insei building showed up early in the morning, about six, to set up class and mind the earlier kids whose parents had to go to work early. It was a little later, about seven thirty or so, when the rest of the students started to come in, and soon the cubbies for shoes were all but filled up. But it was not until later, about eight o' clock on a clouded over Saturday in January, that someone discovered the roof was on fire.
When the alarm went off, there was chaos. Apparently people were either crushed by the mob that tried to get through the sliding doors, hiding under tables and behind the refrigerator in the kitchen, or screaming and panicking. Never mind the fire drills that they had practiced only two months ago - it was chaos today, the students milling around the school as if attracted like bees to a particularly succulent flower. Outside, watchers gathered, observing the reddish-orange glare from the top of the building that sent the metal link fences down to the street five stories below. No one thought of calling the fire department until twenty minutes later, and by then the firemen had already spotted the fire in the distance. However, Tokyo was a large city, and though at the very least the truck would take another ten minutes to get there, it had to get parking on one of the busiest streets of all Tokyo. The policemen basically scratched their heads trying to figure out a detour for the angry people trying to get to work on time while inside, people burned. Ambulances were speedier; they arrived only five minutes after the call arrived, but that was due to the fact that the hospital was only a block away and they could run there with a cart and stretchers.
The Insei students who had made it outside were being hushed and comforted by the loving mothers who happened to be in the crowd as well as the medics that arrived, bringing with them hot drinks and warm blankets. The wind wasn't particularly cold that day - but it had been drizzling since the day before, and the rain was cold. Soon, they had a canopy set up on the building closest to the Insei building, but far enough from the fire-wrecked building so that if it were to fall, the canopy wouldn't be crushed. There, the victims of the fire that the firemen managed to pull from the second and third floors were tended to, as well as the first floor students. Someone went back in the first floor before the ceiling collapsed in the classroom and brought a dozen Go boards and caskets of black and white stones, so many students calmed down with a nerve-frazzled game with a friend. Three of the students, however, were not playing - they stood, watching the building burn right across the street, and they smelled the smoke and it stung their senses.
A limo pulled up near to the school. Some gave it a curious glance, especially at its passenger, a seemingly old man who carried dignity on his shoulders like a cloak, and whose hands were calloused and sensitive from rubbing Go stones for so long. He was dressed completely unlike the rest of the onlookers; he was garbed in old-fashioned Japanese dress, and he wore sandals instead of sneakers. Upon arriving, he hurried over to the survivor stand under the canopy, and questioned a nurse anxiously if his son had been saved. The man was the Meijin Touya. Touya Akira had not come out of the building.
One of the boys, bangs dyed a sandy blonde, overheard the conversation and quietly draped his blanket over his friend, who was watching a game. The other friend gave this boy a look, and stood at the look on the younger one's face. "Hikaru, what are you thinking now?", he questioned softly over the melee of shouting at the building.
Hikaru waved a gesture at the building, his voice meek but his eyes determined. "Touya Akira is still in there."
"And?", the third boy asked, brushing away his long bangs. "What about him?"
"He could get killed."
"Yes", Waya said, "so what?"
"He's my sworn rival."
"And?", Isumi asked, his voice clearly impatient for the finale.
Hikaru did not answer, but went over to the nearest fire hydrant, and held his head and shoulders underneath the spilt water where the pipes to the fire truck refused to connect. In a minute, he was completely soaked, but where he was going, that would not help him. He reached out and took Waya's water bottle, and filled that underneath the pipe as well. The two others stared at their now drenched friend.
"No", Isumi whispered. "You can't be thinking of that, Hikaru." When the boy did not say anything, but started to walk towards the burning building, the oldest boy grabbed his shoulder and enunciated his words, "You CANNOT GO IN THERE, Hikaru."
"Fourth floor, seventh room to the right, am I correct?", he asked Isumi cheerfully. The oldest boy didn't say anything, but his eyes betrayed his answer. "Then I'm going after him", the youngest said confidently, as if he were stating he was going to win a match.
"Why?", Isumi asked, still trying to reason out an explanation.
"Because he'd do the same for me, I know", Hikaru said matter-of- factly.
"You can't!", Waya blurted out. "You'll get killed."
The youngest smiled affably. "Then at least Touya won't die alone, hmm?" And he took off towards the back entrance of the building at a run while his friends trailed behind, waving their arms and yelling his name. But soon, Hikaru was gone from sight - inside the building, into the floor where smoke billowed out to cover all of Tokyo in a dark, gray gauze for the rest of the week. And it seemed to the two boys on the pavement that all of Tokyo was burning with their friend who was inside, inside where he wouldn't come back out.
* * *
At first, Hikaru found it easy going. The smoke was deadly, yes, especially because the gas tank for the heater had broken in the basement and the third floor was slippery with gasoline that miraculously hadn't caught fire yet. But he still had one more floor to go, and that was to the fourth. As he went up higher, the smoke clouded his way, and soon he had to crawl near the floor like he'd been taught, and breathe the oxygen that misted near the floor like white cream on top of a Napoleon. He had to feel the walls to find the seventh room, and finally, when he got there, the roof above him burst into flames. He had to duck inside of the room to escape some of the debris that now clouded the doorway. That way was certainly blocked.
Inside, the windows hadn't shattered from the hot air pressure just yet. Touya Akira was there, just as he'd predicted, lying on the ground apparently knocked out by the fumes already. His head swam for a moment, but he gained balance on the groaning structure and took out the bottle of water he'd gotten from the fire hydrant. Of course, it hadn't be purified or anything - but dirty water was better than no water in a fire, and so he poured a little on Touya's lips. The ni dan drank greedily, and Hikaru had to stop from giving him too much. Then, he quickly wrapped his rival in a coat nearby, soaked the coat and the occupant with the rest of the water from the bottle, and then looked out of the window. No, it was too high from the fourth floor - he'd have to drag Touya to a lower level to drop him, or else they might miss and Touya would die anyway, broken on the pavement.
Placing Touya down, he went over to the door and opened it a crack. Immediately flame leapt up at him. Quickly he shut the door and looked around. There were two sliding doors, each to one side of the room. Finding the next room over wasn't consumed by fire just yet, he half- carried, half-dragged his rival into the next room, then the next room over, until he was in the first room near the stairs. Then, he opened the door to find it miraculously clear of flames, and closed the coat over Touya's mouth as he descended down the stairs.
The third floor, predictably, was already on fire. The gasoline that had spilt had finally caught, and now the entire floor was awash with flames. Hikaru gingerly sidestepped some of the flames, carefully throwing Touya to one side of the low-licking flames before jumping over himself. Then he carried his burden down to the second floor, and into one of the rooms. However, the window faced the south side of the building, where there were no spectators, as the courtyard in the back was clouded with smoke. He worked to drag Touya into the room across the hallway, and there, from the window, he gave a holler and a shout. Heads turned up at the one particular window, especially when a scattering of black-and-white stones came flying out of it.
"Hey!", Hikaru called. "Catch!" Below, people hastily held a spare canopy taut, and Hikaru sent Touya down to Earth. After making sure that they had moved Touya to the side, the younger boy now made as if to climb out and be caught himself, but a sudden jolt sent a shudder through the entire building, exploding the window next to him. Hikaru fell backwards, back into the room, and in one instant the door blew open from the force of the fire, and flames began to eat up the room.
Below, Waya and Isumi had seen the entire exchange. "He fell backward", Waya said horridly. "Where is he?"
Isumi shook his head. "He might be knocked out, especially if he had been standing on something tall to hold Touya over the window. In that case, the fire probably already entered the room, especially from the smoke that's coming from that window, and -"
Waya clapped his hands to his ears as if he didn't want to hear anymore. "Stop, Isumi, stop. I don't want to hear how my friend is going to get torched alive. I'd rather hear something more encouraging, you know."
There came a murmur to the right, and the two looked up to see that Touya Akira had awakened, dazedly, and was currently asking where he was. His father pushed through the crowd, and kneeling beside his son he enveloped the younger pro into his arms. Akira clung to his father doggedly, but he did not stop asking what happened.
"Hikaru saved you", Waya answered, his eyes unreadable. "He said that he didn't want you to die alone, Touya." The ni dan looked up incredulously at this, not quite finding words to express his astonishment. "He said you'd do the same for him, if you'd have been in the same position. Is that true? Or will he die for nothing?"
* * *
Above, Hikaru coughed in the room, spitting out ash. Of course, no one could hear him - the only people that were near were either charred or down a story. With great effort, he lifted himself off the floor and lifted his sleeve to his mouth. The water that he had sprayed himself with at the fire hydrant was almost completely dry - soon, he would become dry tinder. The door was blocked, of course - he went through one of the sliding doors, checking each other main doors as he went along. Finally finding one that had nothing blocking it, he knocked it open sharply and entered the hallway. He coughed again, sharply, almost enough to draw blood, and started down the stairs. Behind him, something crashed, sending plaster raining from the ceiling. The building gave an old, anguished groan, and Hikaru knew he didn't have much time.
But he was tired, so tired. . .
Wearily he made his way down the stairs, his feet catching on the ends. Somehow Go stones had been scattered all over the stairs, and he slipped on a few of them. The metal railing was so hot to the touch that he had to back a foot away from it. Even the walls were warm; he gave them a pat as he sank on the bottom step of the stairs to the first floor. He could see the doorway from there, but it was blocked by something fiery. Around him, the entire world seemed to shake and meld with the fire; and his mind was so clouded, he couldn't think clearly. But his instincts remained, and when he dragged his eyelids up again, someone was standing in the front door, calling to him, calling for him to go and walk outside. Slowly, he began to move, his every step seemingly to weigh ten elephants, he made his way halfway across the room, towards the cubby holes for shoes that were still full, for no one had thought to get their shoes as they ran outside, and then his eyelids dropped down and he couldn't pull them back up again, and he didn't feel the impact as he hit the floor.
Waya screamed as Hikaru fell. Regardless of warnings, he rushed in and picked his friend off of the floor. He was almost at the door when Isumi came, and helping Waya carry Hikaru, all three managed to get outside, where the rain had turned to a fierce sheet of iciness. Immediately they were beset upon by medics, who rushed them over to the hospital, an umbrella over their heads as the stretchers moved. Behind them, the building gave an almighty crash and the dust of plaster and smoke billowed out like foggy hands, ready to snatch lives.
Waya reached over, over the rim of the stretcher and felt Hikaru's neck. It was sweaty, heated skin, but the boy didn't care - what he did care about was a pulse, any feeling below his fingers, something that would signify his friend was still alive. "Is he alive?", he asked the medic that was pushing him, half in delirium. "Is he alive?", he continued to ask until the anesthetic needle was pushed into his arm and he fell asleep.
And the day was silent except for the people who splashed through puddles, for the kids in the arcade, or the library, or the mall - some people saw the smoke, but they dismissed it as nothing. But there were no children in the Insei school that day - no MORE Insei students in the building anymore.
Author's notes:
Not up to my usual standards, I hope you've noticed. But, it's a start - it's been a while since I wrote anything productive, so I hope you like it anyway. By the way, this is AU - if you've noticed, the building where Hikaru plays Insei matches only has one floor. And, if you're asking me, "Would Hikaru actually do that?", the answer is I don't know. But, my impression is that Hikaru has a big enough heart to save someone out of a fire, especially if it was someone he knew. * shrugs * You decide.
I'll continue if you want me to. Just tell me that, will you? I think I'll continue it anyway, though.
Andrea Weiling
The Insei building that most of the potential young Go players went to was five stories tall, and had seven floors. As a building itself, it had a perimeter of a hundred and twelve meters, and sixteen flights of stairs. The rooftop couldn't exactly provide a perfect view of Tokyo, though - it was impeded by skyscrapers in all directions. This, however, did not stop the view of the people on the streets, in which the roof offered. For the most part, the roof had seen its share of weepers (who had lost their matches), hysterically cheery kids (who obviously won their matches), and basically bored people who had no where else to eat lunch or hang out. No one, though, was stupid enough to climb the fence surrounding the roof - who would want to fall? Therefore, there had been no deaths recorded on the Insei building's death records just yet. That record, however, was in question as of now.
The teachers of the Insei building showed up early in the morning, about six, to set up class and mind the earlier kids whose parents had to go to work early. It was a little later, about seven thirty or so, when the rest of the students started to come in, and soon the cubbies for shoes were all but filled up. But it was not until later, about eight o' clock on a clouded over Saturday in January, that someone discovered the roof was on fire.
When the alarm went off, there was chaos. Apparently people were either crushed by the mob that tried to get through the sliding doors, hiding under tables and behind the refrigerator in the kitchen, or screaming and panicking. Never mind the fire drills that they had practiced only two months ago - it was chaos today, the students milling around the school as if attracted like bees to a particularly succulent flower. Outside, watchers gathered, observing the reddish-orange glare from the top of the building that sent the metal link fences down to the street five stories below. No one thought of calling the fire department until twenty minutes later, and by then the firemen had already spotted the fire in the distance. However, Tokyo was a large city, and though at the very least the truck would take another ten minutes to get there, it had to get parking on one of the busiest streets of all Tokyo. The policemen basically scratched their heads trying to figure out a detour for the angry people trying to get to work on time while inside, people burned. Ambulances were speedier; they arrived only five minutes after the call arrived, but that was due to the fact that the hospital was only a block away and they could run there with a cart and stretchers.
The Insei students who had made it outside were being hushed and comforted by the loving mothers who happened to be in the crowd as well as the medics that arrived, bringing with them hot drinks and warm blankets. The wind wasn't particularly cold that day - but it had been drizzling since the day before, and the rain was cold. Soon, they had a canopy set up on the building closest to the Insei building, but far enough from the fire-wrecked building so that if it were to fall, the canopy wouldn't be crushed. There, the victims of the fire that the firemen managed to pull from the second and third floors were tended to, as well as the first floor students. Someone went back in the first floor before the ceiling collapsed in the classroom and brought a dozen Go boards and caskets of black and white stones, so many students calmed down with a nerve-frazzled game with a friend. Three of the students, however, were not playing - they stood, watching the building burn right across the street, and they smelled the smoke and it stung their senses.
A limo pulled up near to the school. Some gave it a curious glance, especially at its passenger, a seemingly old man who carried dignity on his shoulders like a cloak, and whose hands were calloused and sensitive from rubbing Go stones for so long. He was dressed completely unlike the rest of the onlookers; he was garbed in old-fashioned Japanese dress, and he wore sandals instead of sneakers. Upon arriving, he hurried over to the survivor stand under the canopy, and questioned a nurse anxiously if his son had been saved. The man was the Meijin Touya. Touya Akira had not come out of the building.
One of the boys, bangs dyed a sandy blonde, overheard the conversation and quietly draped his blanket over his friend, who was watching a game. The other friend gave this boy a look, and stood at the look on the younger one's face. "Hikaru, what are you thinking now?", he questioned softly over the melee of shouting at the building.
Hikaru waved a gesture at the building, his voice meek but his eyes determined. "Touya Akira is still in there."
"And?", the third boy asked, brushing away his long bangs. "What about him?"
"He could get killed."
"Yes", Waya said, "so what?"
"He's my sworn rival."
"And?", Isumi asked, his voice clearly impatient for the finale.
Hikaru did not answer, but went over to the nearest fire hydrant, and held his head and shoulders underneath the spilt water where the pipes to the fire truck refused to connect. In a minute, he was completely soaked, but where he was going, that would not help him. He reached out and took Waya's water bottle, and filled that underneath the pipe as well. The two others stared at their now drenched friend.
"No", Isumi whispered. "You can't be thinking of that, Hikaru." When the boy did not say anything, but started to walk towards the burning building, the oldest boy grabbed his shoulder and enunciated his words, "You CANNOT GO IN THERE, Hikaru."
"Fourth floor, seventh room to the right, am I correct?", he asked Isumi cheerfully. The oldest boy didn't say anything, but his eyes betrayed his answer. "Then I'm going after him", the youngest said confidently, as if he were stating he was going to win a match.
"Why?", Isumi asked, still trying to reason out an explanation.
"Because he'd do the same for me, I know", Hikaru said matter-of- factly.
"You can't!", Waya blurted out. "You'll get killed."
The youngest smiled affably. "Then at least Touya won't die alone, hmm?" And he took off towards the back entrance of the building at a run while his friends trailed behind, waving their arms and yelling his name. But soon, Hikaru was gone from sight - inside the building, into the floor where smoke billowed out to cover all of Tokyo in a dark, gray gauze for the rest of the week. And it seemed to the two boys on the pavement that all of Tokyo was burning with their friend who was inside, inside where he wouldn't come back out.
* * *
At first, Hikaru found it easy going. The smoke was deadly, yes, especially because the gas tank for the heater had broken in the basement and the third floor was slippery with gasoline that miraculously hadn't caught fire yet. But he still had one more floor to go, and that was to the fourth. As he went up higher, the smoke clouded his way, and soon he had to crawl near the floor like he'd been taught, and breathe the oxygen that misted near the floor like white cream on top of a Napoleon. He had to feel the walls to find the seventh room, and finally, when he got there, the roof above him burst into flames. He had to duck inside of the room to escape some of the debris that now clouded the doorway. That way was certainly blocked.
Inside, the windows hadn't shattered from the hot air pressure just yet. Touya Akira was there, just as he'd predicted, lying on the ground apparently knocked out by the fumes already. His head swam for a moment, but he gained balance on the groaning structure and took out the bottle of water he'd gotten from the fire hydrant. Of course, it hadn't be purified or anything - but dirty water was better than no water in a fire, and so he poured a little on Touya's lips. The ni dan drank greedily, and Hikaru had to stop from giving him too much. Then, he quickly wrapped his rival in a coat nearby, soaked the coat and the occupant with the rest of the water from the bottle, and then looked out of the window. No, it was too high from the fourth floor - he'd have to drag Touya to a lower level to drop him, or else they might miss and Touya would die anyway, broken on the pavement.
Placing Touya down, he went over to the door and opened it a crack. Immediately flame leapt up at him. Quickly he shut the door and looked around. There were two sliding doors, each to one side of the room. Finding the next room over wasn't consumed by fire just yet, he half- carried, half-dragged his rival into the next room, then the next room over, until he was in the first room near the stairs. Then, he opened the door to find it miraculously clear of flames, and closed the coat over Touya's mouth as he descended down the stairs.
The third floor, predictably, was already on fire. The gasoline that had spilt had finally caught, and now the entire floor was awash with flames. Hikaru gingerly sidestepped some of the flames, carefully throwing Touya to one side of the low-licking flames before jumping over himself. Then he carried his burden down to the second floor, and into one of the rooms. However, the window faced the south side of the building, where there were no spectators, as the courtyard in the back was clouded with smoke. He worked to drag Touya into the room across the hallway, and there, from the window, he gave a holler and a shout. Heads turned up at the one particular window, especially when a scattering of black-and-white stones came flying out of it.
"Hey!", Hikaru called. "Catch!" Below, people hastily held a spare canopy taut, and Hikaru sent Touya down to Earth. After making sure that they had moved Touya to the side, the younger boy now made as if to climb out and be caught himself, but a sudden jolt sent a shudder through the entire building, exploding the window next to him. Hikaru fell backwards, back into the room, and in one instant the door blew open from the force of the fire, and flames began to eat up the room.
Below, Waya and Isumi had seen the entire exchange. "He fell backward", Waya said horridly. "Where is he?"
Isumi shook his head. "He might be knocked out, especially if he had been standing on something tall to hold Touya over the window. In that case, the fire probably already entered the room, especially from the smoke that's coming from that window, and -"
Waya clapped his hands to his ears as if he didn't want to hear anymore. "Stop, Isumi, stop. I don't want to hear how my friend is going to get torched alive. I'd rather hear something more encouraging, you know."
There came a murmur to the right, and the two looked up to see that Touya Akira had awakened, dazedly, and was currently asking where he was. His father pushed through the crowd, and kneeling beside his son he enveloped the younger pro into his arms. Akira clung to his father doggedly, but he did not stop asking what happened.
"Hikaru saved you", Waya answered, his eyes unreadable. "He said that he didn't want you to die alone, Touya." The ni dan looked up incredulously at this, not quite finding words to express his astonishment. "He said you'd do the same for him, if you'd have been in the same position. Is that true? Or will he die for nothing?"
* * *
Above, Hikaru coughed in the room, spitting out ash. Of course, no one could hear him - the only people that were near were either charred or down a story. With great effort, he lifted himself off the floor and lifted his sleeve to his mouth. The water that he had sprayed himself with at the fire hydrant was almost completely dry - soon, he would become dry tinder. The door was blocked, of course - he went through one of the sliding doors, checking each other main doors as he went along. Finally finding one that had nothing blocking it, he knocked it open sharply and entered the hallway. He coughed again, sharply, almost enough to draw blood, and started down the stairs. Behind him, something crashed, sending plaster raining from the ceiling. The building gave an old, anguished groan, and Hikaru knew he didn't have much time.
But he was tired, so tired. . .
Wearily he made his way down the stairs, his feet catching on the ends. Somehow Go stones had been scattered all over the stairs, and he slipped on a few of them. The metal railing was so hot to the touch that he had to back a foot away from it. Even the walls were warm; he gave them a pat as he sank on the bottom step of the stairs to the first floor. He could see the doorway from there, but it was blocked by something fiery. Around him, the entire world seemed to shake and meld with the fire; and his mind was so clouded, he couldn't think clearly. But his instincts remained, and when he dragged his eyelids up again, someone was standing in the front door, calling to him, calling for him to go and walk outside. Slowly, he began to move, his every step seemingly to weigh ten elephants, he made his way halfway across the room, towards the cubby holes for shoes that were still full, for no one had thought to get their shoes as they ran outside, and then his eyelids dropped down and he couldn't pull them back up again, and he didn't feel the impact as he hit the floor.
Waya screamed as Hikaru fell. Regardless of warnings, he rushed in and picked his friend off of the floor. He was almost at the door when Isumi came, and helping Waya carry Hikaru, all three managed to get outside, where the rain had turned to a fierce sheet of iciness. Immediately they were beset upon by medics, who rushed them over to the hospital, an umbrella over their heads as the stretchers moved. Behind them, the building gave an almighty crash and the dust of plaster and smoke billowed out like foggy hands, ready to snatch lives.
Waya reached over, over the rim of the stretcher and felt Hikaru's neck. It was sweaty, heated skin, but the boy didn't care - what he did care about was a pulse, any feeling below his fingers, something that would signify his friend was still alive. "Is he alive?", he asked the medic that was pushing him, half in delirium. "Is he alive?", he continued to ask until the anesthetic needle was pushed into his arm and he fell asleep.
And the day was silent except for the people who splashed through puddles, for the kids in the arcade, or the library, or the mall - some people saw the smoke, but they dismissed it as nothing. But there were no children in the Insei school that day - no MORE Insei students in the building anymore.
Author's notes:
Not up to my usual standards, I hope you've noticed. But, it's a start - it's been a while since I wrote anything productive, so I hope you like it anyway. By the way, this is AU - if you've noticed, the building where Hikaru plays Insei matches only has one floor. And, if you're asking me, "Would Hikaru actually do that?", the answer is I don't know. But, my impression is that Hikaru has a big enough heart to save someone out of a fire, especially if it was someone he knew. * shrugs * You decide.
I'll continue if you want me to. Just tell me that, will you? I think I'll continue it anyway, though.
Andrea Weiling