What makes people stray from their paths, I wonder?
What happens for lives to be completely "turned upside down"?
Is it common sense to say that any trivial, foolish, or meaningless event might have a chance to alter the course of someone's life?
If so, then what could a truly impactful moment even cause?
Like a butterfly effect, even the smallest action can bring about a major difference in your life.
It's terrifying how sudden events can simply change the way you see the world. And when you least expect it — when you're at your most vulnerable — the impact will hit much harder than you ever anticipated. Sometimes, such impacts can trigger traumatic events and leave scars that will never heal.
At the end of the day, everyone's life on this planet is like a ticking time bomb; we just don't know the exact time it will go off.
I say this because I fear my own bomb is about to explode, ever since the disaster that occurred not so long ago.
Lost in my thoughts, a cloud of uncertainty and insecurity surrounds me.
March 9th, 2024.
Today, I have an important commitment: to visit an old friend.
I sit in a blue armchair in the hospital's reception area, watching the nearly empty hallway.The air smells faintly of disinfectant and old coffee. A few meters away, the receptionist, dressed in white, stands up with a restrained smile.
"Please wait just a moment until the patient is ready for visitors," her gentle voice hides the rush to get everything organized.
"Yes… I'll wait, thank you," I reply, trying to shake off the apprehension that keeps clinging to me.
I search for comfort in the view outside the window: buildings and houses in pale tones, and the vast ocean reflecting the cold sun of late winter. I hold good memories of this place — mainly because of who I'm about to see — but I can't avoid the memory of the fire that consumed my old school.
It happened on March 2nd, 2024 — exactly one week ago.
Well… not exactly. It was dark at the time, around 8 p.m.
I found myself before a spectacle of scarlet-red flames, dancing like a chaotic field of roses.The heat poured into the streets, erasing any chance of snow, and all I could do was watch, powerless, hoping it would end, relying on others to contain the fire's fury. The smell of smoke still seems to cling to my nostrils, like a physical memory.
The school was a part of me: its hallways, my routine, my classmates. Watching that fire was like seeing fragments of my own identity reduced to ashes.
Not just me, of course. Many others were severely affected, both physically and psychologically.
It was clear that others around me were suffering the same…
Even so, despite all the bad feelings tied to that place, I didn't mind.
Maybe I'm only here now because he's the exception. Anyone else… I would have ignored.
"Ayato Unten,"
Lost in the day's memories, a sound calling my name slightly surprises me — the calm and sweet voice of the nurse catches my attention.
"He's now ready to receive visitors. Come, I'll guide you to his room."
"Ah… thank you very much," I say, even though I already know the way from visiting so often.
With each step we take through these morbid corridors, a steady pain in my chest grows stronger.
The strong smell of medicine and the sound of people coughing only make me more uncomfortable with the situation.
Even so, I keep coming here every day, as if it were an unwanted routine.
This time, however, is different. The news I received was exactly what I had been hoping for.
"Y-you don't need to be like that, Unten. I know that in the end everything will work out, and he'll recover well — we just need to wait," says the nurse, noticing my slightly downcast expression, and seemingly pitying me. "After all, we're doing everything possible with this treatment."
I sigh, nodding slightly, though only now do I really start to believe her words.With each step, the rhythmic sound of our shoes echoes against the cold tiled walls.We pass half-open doors, where the beeping of heart monitors and muffled voices of doctors can be heard.
"Oh, by the way, here we are," the nurse tells me where the room is once more, in her usual upbeat tone.
She enters the room first, quickly checking if everything is in order for the visit.
"Mr. Nagumo, I'm here to visit you again," she calls his attention.
"......."
The awkward silence makes me wonder if Mr. Nagumo is really doing well.
The room is white, like the rest of the hospital.
There's a small television on the wall, a table with a vase of white flowers, and a heater that's almost always on.
The closer I walk into the room, the more a strange mix of joy and pity floods my body, as if it were my first time coming here.Beside the small table lies the bed where Mr. Nagumo rests. His medium-length beard and white hair reinforce his age — around 65.
"Hi… Mr. Nagumo, how are you? Are you recovering well?" I speak in a restrained voice.
But Mr. Nagumo's eyes widen as soon as he sees me.
"Ayato Unten came to see you as well," the nurse adds.
Apparently, the hospital didn't tell him I was coming today.
"Ah, hey Ayato. I'm glad you came to visit," he sighs with relief, trying to sit up to greet me, though he's clearly not in shape for such movement yet. "My back's a bit sore, but I think I'm well enough… haha."
Mr. Nagumo is alive, his breathing stable — but most importantly, he woke up.
My face is probably showing a faint smile of satisfaction, rare as that is for me.However, his eyes betray something else. There's a deep tension in them — almost panic.
Could it be from the disaster, like some kind of trauma?
No… maybe I'm exaggerating.
"You were in a coma for several days. I imagine it must have been difficult to regain consciousness," I say, standing by his side with my hands in my hoodie pockets."Haha… the doctors said the same thing… but what really matters is that everyone who was there is safe."
The others were saved thanks to his bravery and determination.
But he always cares more about others than himself, which is why he suffered the consequences.
He was too reckless.
That said, it's a foolish, foolish trait to have, but also an incredible one. Hence I respect him deeply.
"So… are you satisfied with risking yourself for others' sake?"
"I always have been, and I always will be," he affirms with the utmost certainty, looking at me with confidence.
I still can't understand it… why try to save others?
I've always seen that as using a double-edged sword — and Mr. Nagumo being hospitalized is proof of that.
"Ayato… I know you resent what happened, but the real joy in helping others is knowing that everyone who loves them will be just as grateful," he says, as if reading my mind. "It's genuinely beautiful, seeing all the people you've reached out to smiling back at you with gratitude."
"....."
His words are beautiful, but I won't easily change my opinion.
Then his expression grows more serious than before, as if he remembered something troubling.
"And that's why, knowing there are still people to be saved… my work isn't finished yet…"
I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means by that.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Mr. Nagumo?"
In the end, I figured it would be simpler and more efficient to ask him directly.
"Haha… you've always been an extremely perceptive boy."
Not only did I guess from his face, but also from the fact that he didn't respond to the nurse when we first entered.
It seemed like he was expecting someone else in particular — me, in this case — and was a bit disappointed before realizing it was me.
He then turns his head to the nurse, trying to appear calm and composed.
"Now, young lady, would you excuse us? I'd like to speak with him alone."
"No problem. Excuse me."
She quickly says her goodbye and closes the door behind her to give us privacy.
"Boy, I'm afraid you should lock the door," Mr. Nagumo says, as serious as can be.
I get up and do as asked, locking the door and pulling the curtains shut.
The air grows heavy. The hum of the heater now sounds like a distant buzz, as if the entire room had disconnected from the world.
I might have an idea of what he's about to say, but I decide to stay silent to understand the full context.Mr. Nagumo sighs, then speaks to me while looking down.
"…It's about the fire. There's something behind it," his words resonate in the silence.
That was to be expected — everything about it was strange…
My first thought was that Mr. Nagumo might have valuable information I could use.And my second thought was that finding some order in the chaos — an explanation for such an extraordinary disaster — would be exciting, something to soften the blow of my loss.
My heart races, but I remain calm, ready to absorb every word.
"I'm listening," I say, prepared for whatever comes next.
Mr. Nagumo coughs a few times before speaking.
"Ayato… before I say anything, I ask that you… be careful when digging deeper."
Even though he knows I act cautiously, Mr. Nagumo still wants to ensure my safety.
I nod, accepting his conditions, and signaling him to continue.
"Perhaps, that entire fire was set on purpose. A deliberate arson."