Tetchou, normally an early riser, doesn't wake until his alarm (programmed to get progressively louder) makes the nightstand shake.
He's awake but not rested so it takes him a moment to realise that instead of the usual 9:00 AM, the clock reads 9:30. When it does click, he blinks until it reads 9:31. Then he gets up, rolling his shoulders until they pop. The quiet house swallows the sound as it's made, leaving him once again in silence.
Ever efficient, he dresses and eats quickly, not truly tasting the food.
He tries to think 'Do I ever taste the food? What was it that I even ate just now? Cereal, yes, but of what kind-' then catches himself. When he stops thinking of breakfast Kenji's words come back to him. Frustrated, he huffs, trying to lose himself in the walk, the mindlessness of it, the way he normally does, but he can't seem to. Not today, anyway.
Not when there are all of a sudden so many things. The crunch of gravel, the hush-hush of newly grown spring leaves, and the chirps of the birds that have dared return from the south early. Tetchou would swear that these things had not been here before, even in the last week which he knew on the calendar to be the start of spring. Yet, he knew that they indeed had been here.
'So why am I just hearing them now? Is there something wrong with me?' White, white white, think only of white. A newly fallen snowbank. Pure, clean, beautiful, perfection.
He wades through his sea of white to the Fire station, stepping through the threshold at 10:05.
"You're late, Suehiro." A voice sharp, and clear admonished him in lieu of greeting. Its owner leans apathetically against the wall, eating a pear.
"I didn't sleep well." he knows by now to keep his response brief. Seeking sympathy from Jouno Saigiku will get him nowhere. Nobody else has much sympathy for him either. Well, maybe the Captain, but he's nowhere in sight. Probably in his office doing whatever it is he does up there.
"You sick or something? Well, don't come near the Captain or me, we don't want your germs." The voice of the youngest firefighter, Okura Teru, has an unpleasant quality when bounced off the concrete walls of the station. Even if it wasn't so distinct, Tetchou would know him by his reference to himself and the Captain as one.
(A/N: Yeah, I genderbent Teruko, lol)
Despite his words, the petite pinkette comes toward him, hand outstretched. "At least put on a mask, Jeez! No respect for your superiors!"
"He's not sick, Teru, quit your yapping. I can feel it in my bones." Jouno sticks his fingers in his ears, scrunching his face in discomfort.
Teru starts to reply, but before he can speak, Jouno's switchblade is at his throat. The two stare at each other, Teru's stubborn versus Jouno's evil. Jouno wins. Teru glares one last time, then drops his gaze.
He skips off to the table, pretending he cares less than he does, probably to mentally work the crossword just in case the Captain asks for help. Indeed, he starts scanning the page, smiling smugly as he does. He basks in his spot as the Captain's favourite, even though from what Tetchou has seen, the Captain favours Jouno, but it's far easier for everyone involved to let Teru live his illusion rather than incite his wrath by suggesting otherwise.
Teru knows, of course, he does. Jealousy is the reason why he dislikes Jouno so much.
"Thanks," Tetchou says, looking away from Teru, and back to Jouno.
"It wasn't for you, and you should put on the mask anyway. Your breathing annoys me."
"No. No point if I'm not sick." Tetchou flicks the mask back at Jouno.
He doesn't flinch, but leans slightly more left and allows the mask to fall into the garbage bin next to him.
Jouno.
Jouno Saigiku is one of the most interesting people Tetchou has ever met. Tetchou has three centimetres on him, but he looks much taller. Tetchou thinks it's his personality, the air with which he carries himself. And it helps that he's slimmer too.
His hair is white as the snow Tetchou always fills his mind with and no matter how much soot and ash covers all of the firemen, his hair is always clean shining white. It used to be creepy, but now in a sea of orange and black, it's refreshing, one might even say beautiful. The ends are soaked in red, like blood or flames creeping up, continuously reaching but never quite touching their target. His hair comes to his cheek, leaving his shoulders on display. He really does have a nice body. Many times Tetchou will just stare at him when he isn't paying attention. He'll stare and wonder how Jouno is so muscular despite never seeing him work out.
His eyelashes are white too, yet somehow they don't disappear against his pale skin, instead showing perfectly his expressions (usually ones of annoyance).
'If he was a woman I'd even overlook the sadism. . . . If he was a woman, if he was a woman, if he was a woman . . .'
"Oh, quit your staring. I can feel it. I haven't changed since you saw me yesterday."
Tetchou doesn't bother to ask how. Jouno's keen senses are a mystery no one has been able to solve.
"Sorry." The apology from Tetchou is genuine, Jouno knows this, but he waves him away anyway.
"Just shut up. I need peace" He doesn't dislike Tetchou, he's just not a very tolerant person in general.
-
It's been two hours since the start of the shift and still, there've been no calls or cases to investigate. Tetchou doesn't mind, and he does. He wants to be up and moving. He wants to be doing something.
He finds Jouno in the kitchen doing nothing. He stops and watches him for a bit. It's at times like these when he thinks that Jouno might be as restless as he is, that there might actually be some crack in his seemingly unshakable calm. And then it's gone.
Jouno turns, raising a pale eyebrow.
"Need something, Suehiro?"
" . . . No, I just . . . I'm just bored."
"Well then listen to the radio or something."
The thought hadn't even occurred to him, embarrassed for a reason he doesn't quite understand, he looks away. "I don't feel like it."
"Well, I guess it's just okay to bother me then, hmm?"
A question burns on the tips of Tetchou's tongue. But it feels wrong to ask, and he's not sure he wants to hear the answer, worried it will change too much of his mundane life.
'What a ridiculous thing to think.'
So he asks something else that he can't seem to get out of his mind.
"Do you think we're important to aliens?" He says suddenly, the volume startling even him. Jouno cringes, covering his ears.
It's too late to take it back now so Tetchou continues, trying to keep his voice down. "What about the sun and the moon? Do they matter? Or are they just like any other star?"
The words spill across the silence, rising like bread until they fill the entirety of the small kitchen. Jouno looks at him as if he just said everyone should start reading books again. Maybe . . .
"Yuuji, what on earth are you talking about?"
"I-I . . . I don't know, I just . . ."
"Stop stuttering. What's wrong with you today? Never mind, we'll be here forever if you answer that."
"I'm fine!" Tetchou says. It comes out as a shout. "I'm fine," he says again, softer, like a whisper, a plea. Maybe for himself more than anyone.
Jouno looks, in the way only a blind man can, at him, but says nothing.
"I have a feeling we're going to be dispatched soon."
Tetchou nods. Jouno can sense a job minutes before it happens, he's never been wrong.
-
Five minutes later the bell rings, the nasally sound ripping through the building like the fire its inhabitants create. Someone has been caught with forbidden knowledge.
"Ugh." Despite his prediction, Jouno still scorns the sound of the bell. "I wish these nuts would really stop it. Just get it in their thick heads that we're going to catch them every time. They remind me of you actually, Yuujirou."
The remark is casual but Tetchou freezes mid-step.
"What?" He's ready to deny it. He's ready to lie.
"What?" Jouno looks at him like he's stupid. He feels stupid.
"What do you mean by that?"
Jouno rolls his eyes (Somehow they stay closed when he does this, but Tetchou can see the minute movement anyway), "Because you're dense. Now hurry up. I want to burn something."
The firemen move with practised speed and agility even with all their gear. It's a routine—a habit. Down the pole, to the truck, out of the station, drive, burn, back in the truck, back to the station, repeat.
-
The Captain drives, with Teru in the front passenger seat. In the farthest row back, Tetchou sits across from Jouno. The seat next to Jouno is full of spare fire helmets. There's only one seat empty. That seat belongs to Tachihara Michizou.
'I do miss that guy. He should have enough to leave soon. He must be going crazy around all those . . .' He doesn't know exactly what to call them, and his brain won't form the words he's heard so often.
'Too cruel,' he thinks, 'That's too cruel for people I've never met.'
He closes his eyes, imagining that he can be there with the boy. Tachihara is almost as young as Teru, only six months older. Was he ready for a mission so big? Is he okay?
'Yes, he's fine. He'll be back soon.'
When Tetchou opens his eyes Jouno is looking right at him. "I can tell you're thinking something, something more than you should." that look says. Jouno himself says nothing though.
-
At the truck's destination a man, not much younger than Tetchou himself, is busy at work. Placing the final touches on a fireworks show that would make even the brightest pyrotechnicians jealous. It's an intricate trap of more than 1000 matches and palm-sized explosives, each and every one laid by hand.
He trunks to his accomplice, the owner of the soon-to-be burnt home, with a tear-streaked face.
"Seishi . . . does it have to be like this."
"Oh, calm now Mushi, you know it does. Mrs. Sasaki won't stay silent forever."
"Maybe, maybe she will . . ."
"She won't. I gave her everything but my last yen coin to delay her long enough so we could do this. So I could have the death I want." The older man brushes the dust from his hands off on his yukata and cups his helper's face, "Do you want to see me spend the rest of my days in some white padded room?"
"N-no, but there has to be another-"
"There is not. We must do this, Mushitarou-kun. I was found out weeks ago, no one holds onto such a secret for so long. They simply can't resist telling it."
"I can save them, at least some of them. If you do this they'll all die with you, at leats, if they locked you up there's a chance you'd get out. This . . . there's no coming back from this."
"Mushi, my boy, look at me."
Mushitarou looks.
"I am 30, by the time everyone realises how bad society has messed up, I'll be long gone. There is no possible way for you to save any of these tomes without sacrificing yourself as well and I will not, WILL NOT, have that. Yes, they will die with me, but it is far better to die at the hands of someone who loves you than to be a faceless meaningless victim. We will all die together, the books and I, and that is exactly how I want it, how I've always envisioned it."
Mushitarou nods.
"You know what to do, Mushi. Go and call them now, be a good boy."
"Goodbye, Kindaichi-san. I'll always remember you."
"Oh, don't get sentimental on me, we haven't the time for that, go!" Yokomizo waves him away with a smile.
Mushitarou tries his best for a smile as he walks out the door, leaving it open wide behind him. He heads to the phone book across the road and dials #3473-2876-451
(A/N: RIP Any poor soul who has this mobile number, pls don't call it. It's supposed to say FIRE-BURN-451. I spelt it using the positions of letters on the number keys on the dial pad.)
The fire station answers immediately, the clear voice of a young boy saying "This is Station 13. Thank you for your call, what address would you like to report?"
Mushitarou swallows. "Yokomizo Seishi owns 100 Sun Street. A Western-style townhome. The place is absolutely full of books, you can see them from the windows."
The fireman giggles "Ooh. We'll be there soon. You can stay and watch if you like, but please maintain a distance of at least 7 metres away while we work. See you."
Musihtarou hangs up.
"You won't," he tells the empty phone booth, smirking. "Soon you're all going to go up in those flames you love so much."
Walking quickly enough to not be seen, but not so fast as to draw attention he hides behind the fence of the neighbouring house.
-
The truck stops with a violent jerk. The Captain is known for his quick, skilled driving, gentleness isn't a priority and usually doesn't matter since fire trucks get road priority anyway.
The home is a Western-style townhome painted in shades of dark red and black, like dying embers.
Teru laughs at the open door, and he and the Captain charge in without a second thought but Tetchou pauses. He looks at Jouno, who's also stopped beside him. They exchange agreement with their eyes. Something is off here.
"A trap?" Tetchou's gaze asks
"No, they'd surely know better, and whatever it is we'll be ready."
"Yeah," Tetchou says aloud and they walk in.
The place is filled with books, in stacks of all heights, some leaning precariously from heights rapper than the Captain, others steady and sure up to the ceiling.
As soon as they're all in the main room they hear something that isn't usually heard in houses marked for burning. Never, actually. Footsteps. Soft and purposeful.
'Huh? What kind of nutcase stays inside? Normally they're out in the garden or whatever. They do know what we're here to do, right?'
Tetchou looks to Jouno again but for once Jouno has no answer, appearing just as confused as Tetchou. Tetchou notes that the expression is similar to a child's. Cute.
"Hello, Firemen! Welcome to my last ever lecture. Yes, that is a confession. I've been giving literature lectures in secret for years now, and don't try to find my students, the only record of their names is inside my very brain. Now that you're all here I can say a proper goodbye."
"What the hell?" Teru mutters, "What is this nut case going on about? Lectures?"
"Ignore him Teru, he's spouting nonsense, he needs help. EVERYONE! GET TO BURNING. LET'S FINISH THIS QUICK!"
Despite the Captain's booming command only he and Teru start to move, setting up the hose as normal.
"Are they planning to burn him alive?" Tetchou asks, suddenly unsure.
"No, of course not, he'll leave. Come on, go and convince him. You're good at that, at people I mean." Jouno said, but Tetchou swears that his voice sounds less crisp than normal. Surely Tetchou isn't the only one to notice . . .
It's true, normally he is better at emotions, but he can't make himself move. His feet are frozen in place as he stares at the man standing against the bannister as if it is a podium.
He clears his throat, smiling, "Poverty can be defined in many ways. Lack of money is one definition, true. But to me, the worst, and sadly most common poverty is lack of knowledge. 'Poverty is the mother of crime. If people are poor, they lose all sense of shame, and behave appallingly.' I'm afraid that that's what has happened to our little society. Without books, we've sunken into shallow stupidity filled with nothing but violence and the endless chasing of placebo euphoria." (A/N: Quote from The Honjin Murders)
He pulls a book from the stack next to him. It sways and tilts but doesn't fall. Then he opens it and begins to scan the page. The cover reads Death on Gokumon Island.
"Ah, here it is: 'There was the whole collection of Arthur Conan Doyle, Maurice Leblanc's Lupin series, and every translated work that the publishers Hakubunkan and Heibonsha had ever released. Then there was the Japanese section: it began with nineteenth-century novels by Ruiko Kuroiwa and also featured Edogawa Ranpo, Fuboku Kozakai, Saburo Koga, Udaru Oshita, Takataro Kigi, Juza Unno, Mushitaro Oguri all crammed in together. And then as well as Japanese translations of Western novels, there were the original, untranslated works of Ellery Queen, Dickson Carr, Freeman Wills Crofts and Agatha Christie, etc. etc. etc. It was a magnificent sight: an entire library of detective novels.'" The man suddenly bursts out in laughter.
"Why are you laughing?" Tetchou manages to ask. He finds himself not wanting to interrupt the man.
"Ah, it's just that I realised after I said it that 'an entire library full of detective novels' must be a terrifying thought for you Firemen, and that's funny to me so it made me laugh."
"Anyway, your friends have got everything almost all set up now, so I'd better get to my point, eh? Ah, how lovely this day is. The sun and clouds, so beautiful. I wanted to wait until night, to have my death under the full moon and stars, but I was so afraid of running out of time. . . ."
'Death?' Tetchou wonders. He scans the area, there are no bottles or pills and no rope. 'Is he going to jump down?'
By the time he sees the matches attached to the man's sleeve, it's too late. But the fire doesn't start with him. At first, there's a small crackle. Jouno hears it before he does, then Tetchou hears the roar, as the flame, as if appearing from thin air, from nowhere.
"EVERYONE OUT! THE PLACE IS GOING DOWN! LEAVE THE GUY!"
Tetchou doesn't move. He can't stop staring.
This fire is different. Not strength and power, but beauty and grace. Unlike any fire he's started it doesn't rush the whole room, instead it travels an intricate path snaking along the walls almost as if someone set a fuse. As the house burns the man on the second floor smiles. He looks relieved. Fulfilled. Just as that boy from before had.
He can't leave him.
'I can't leave him. That's murder!'
"We can't leave him!"
"We have to! Come on!" Jouno pulls him towards the door, but Tetchou is larger and doesn't budge.
"I hate regret. So I've done whatever I've wanted to do. Up until now, it's been a satisfying life. But now... I've been given a time limit. Before then, I have to complete the ultimate mystery. Goodbye Mushi . . . I've loved you all this time . . ."
As he says these words the trail of fire reaches him, then jumps from the bannister to his arm, which he'd rested upon. A perfect plan. The flames consume him and then begin to take the rest of the house.
A single book flaa down, pages fluttering softy as it cascades toward its violent end. If he can't save its owner then can't he at least spare this?
"Yuujirou! Yuujirou! . . . Tetchou, what the hell are you doing? We can't save him, he's DEAD! We need to RUN!"
The use of his given name jars him out of the trance. He allows Jouno to pull him out of the burning house just as the beams begin to crumble. Teru and the Captain are in the truck and they shout for Tetchou and Jouno to follow. They both ignore it, the shouts fading into the rolling flames. Jouno stays with Tetchou in the garden and together stand and watch the fire eat away the house. They watch as it falls to pieces.
The heat of the midday sun and fire make it nearly unbearably but even so, they stay.
'Why do I feel so sad? Is it sadness I'm feeling, I don't even know.'
What comes out is, "Why is it so beautiful?"
Jouno leans almost imperceptibly closer and whispers the quietest Tetchou's ever heard him, "Because this fire was natural."
Mere metres away, Musihitarou Oguri falls down sobbing.
'It's my fault. I set the match, and I lit the fuse. I killed Seishi. I love him and I killed him. . . . I'm a murderer. Is this what it feels like? How do the others stand it?'
When the house is nothing but a pile of soot and ash, Jouno walks Tetchou back to the truck. The Captain glares and Teru gives a suspicious look. Despite their apparent nonchalance nobody talks on the way back to the station
The rest of the shift is silent and uneventful. When Tetchou can't stand it anymore he heaves in the sink but he missed lunch due to the call so there's nothing to come up. It leaves his throat drier than before. From the restroom, he can what Jouno and the Captain arguing.
"He's always been attached to you, so get a handle on him."
"I don't like the way you said that. We are co-workers that is all."
"So? Fix him, get him out of his silly rut. He's a great fireman, we need him."
"Captain, he just witnessed a man's death in front of him knowing he could do nothing about it. Give him a day off."
"The rest of us are fine. He's strong. He can manage."
"Sir, with respect. No. He is strong, yes, that's why you like him, yes. But his world is black and white. Yuujirou's entire world is justice, he wants to save people by punishing them so they don't commit offences again, to better our society. He wants to save them from the insanity that is books, he wants to rehabilitate them in facilities, not kill them. He doesn't feel guilty for the death of a bibliophile, he feels guilty for his failure. He's in his head, he'll be no use to anyone tomorrow. Give him a day . . . sir."
A pause. Then a throat clearing in slight embarrassment "Very well, a half shift off will have to do."
Jouno's footsteps.
'He . . . he knows me so well. When did we get to know each other so well, we're only co-workers (and that's all we'll ever be) we're not close. I only consider him my friend because he's the only one I really talk to, the only one I can talk to. I thought we barely knew each other. If that's so, why did he defend me?'
He spends the rest of the remaining time on the shift in a daze, hardly hearing as the Captain formally announces that he has a partial day off tomorrow. He nods, and thanks him robotically, promising he'll be in by 16:00 tomorrow.
His walk home is spent listlessly placing one foot in front of the other. He notes that the sounds he heard earlier are gone again and that he misses them.
'Where did they go? Or was it me that was blind all this time?'
That's the only coherent thought his brain forms before he undresses and falls into bed.
Perfect crimes leave everyone unhappy.