Chapter 2:
Takeoff
ROPE: A USEFUL TOOL in the business of saving lives. As such, all firefighters were required to participate in rope drills. Some drills involved climbing a rope to high places, and some, like the one Wasabi was currently doing, involved maneuvering over a rope bridge in order to cross rivers or gaps between buildings.
“Come on, come on, come on!”
These sixty-foot ropes extended from the main training building to the auxiliary training building. On the way out, the firefighters were instructed to climb sailor-style, and on their return trip, monkey-style. These names were rather apt; the former involved using both hands to pull one’s body along the rope, like a sailor, and the latter involved hanging upside-down, like a monkey.
Another firefighter had started climbing at the same time as Wasabi, but he had already completed his round trip. Wasabi, however, had run into some trouble on his way back. They had performed this drill several times already, and he was starting to lose strength in his hands. Sailor-style wasn’t too hard as long as you knew the trick to it, but monkey-style required a lot of upper-body strength and therefore was massively draining.
Unsurprisingly, Wasabi’s hand slipped, and he plummeted headfirst toward the ground—or he would have, if not for the lifeline tied around his waist.
“What’s the matter with you?!”
“Keep trying!”
As he hung upside down, his squad mates shouted words of encouragement. Sorry, guys, but this is agony!
“You can do it!”
“One more push!”
Damn it. Using his stomach muscles, Wasabi hauled himself upright and started to climb his lifeline up to the main rope.
“That’s it! Don’t be a quitter!”
Sweat streamed from his brow in a torrent, but he didn’t have the energy to wipe it away. It took everything he had just to get back to the horizontal rope and grab it with both hands.
“Now your legs! Hook ’em on there!”
Wasabi got one leg on—but when he went to hook the other, he fell again. Every time he slipped, it crushed his spirits a little more, making it even harder to recover.
“You still got this! Don’t give up!”
“Take a deep breath and try again!”
“Use your muscles! Grab on tight!”
He could tell their hearts were in the right place. Biting back the urge to vomit, Wasabi made another attempt…but he’d lost his grip strength entirely. His physical and mental energy were both exhausted. All he could do was dangle there and wait to be rescued.
Defeated, he let out a sigh.
Later, as Wasabi was throwing himself a silent pity party in the changing room, Minato walked in. “Nice work out there!”
“Very funny… I think maybe I’m not cut out for this job,” Wasabi replied weakly without looking at him.
“Mistakes are no big deal. All you have to do is try harder next time.”
Minato always made it sound so easy. Probably because he was the most talented firefighter on the force. Minato had also been the guy who climbed out to rescue Wasabi while he was dangling.
“It’s not that simple, man,” Wasabi muttered, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to cry. “I feel like I chose the wrong career.”
“You know Koba-san, the driver engineer? Have you seen his mapwork?”
Koba was a veteran engineer who had recently transferred in from another town. His job: to drive the fire truck in a safe, speedy, and precise fashion, plus control all the truck mechanisms. And during the most recent fire outbreak, yes, Wasabi had seen the man’s mapwork. Koba had only been at their station a few days, and yet he already knew which roads were blocked off, as well as the locations of all the hydrants, storage tanks, shortcuts, and water lines. Each day Koba added something new to his maps, all so the team would have this information when they needed it most.
“It’s not easy to get to his level. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication. You’re a brawny guy—I’m sure you’ll be better than me in no time.” Having changed into his street clothes, Minato offered Wasabi a pat on the back. Then he headed for the exit. “See ya!”
“Senpai!” Wasabi called reflexively, and Minato turned back. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
There was a skip in Minato’s step. A glint in his eyes. Had something special happened?
“I’m gonna catch some waves.” Grinning, Minato held up one hand with his thumb and pinky extended in a shaka and waved.
Hinako’s college was located right on the water—so close that she could hear the ocean waves from the classroom. Given the sheer size of the campus, one could almost mistake it for a beach resort.
Mmmm, the weather’s so nice today… Maybe I’ll skip my afternoon classes and go surfing instead…
Hinako had only just enrolled, but already she was tempted to slack off.
Japan was an island nation surrounded by water on all sides, and yet for some reason only a select few colleges offered oceanography courses. Of course, “oceanography” covered a wide variety of fields: marine biology, nautical science, fisheries science, marine geology, marine engineering, ocean conservation, et cetera, et cetera. (For this reason, it was considered an “integrated interdisciplinary science” in Europe and North America.)
Because it was such a complicated field of study, all of Hinako’s classmates had very specific ambitions for their future: working at an aquarium, being an oceanographer, stuff like that. Those who enrolled without putting much thought into it—like Hinako herself, who simply “loved the ocean”—were now paying the price. Who knew it would involve so many boring science classes? Especially chemistry. Ugh, what a nightmare.
If only Hinako had a boyfriend, she could spend her college days blissfully in love. But tragically, she had zero experience with boys… Well, except for that one time.
It had been her second year of high school, and over summer break, Hinako had spent her days surfing and working part-time at a seaside clubhouse. There, she met a college student—she couldn’t remember what he looked like, but she remembered his gorgeous, expensive, top-of-the-line surfboard.
Oops, maybe that had been what she actually fell in love with. She had just been so naive back then…
(Never mind that this was only two years ago.)
But as it turned out, the surfboard—er, the college guy—hadn’t actually known how to surf at all. He’d been what you might call a total poser. But Hinako hadn’t looked down on him for it, though. After all, he could always learn. If anything, she just thought his lack of know-how was a terrible waste of a several-hundred-thousand-yen board…
And she miiiight have said that to his face too…
Regardless, when he found out she was a pro-level surfer, he got oddly upset and started hanging out with some other (non-surfer) girl who worked at the clubhouse next door instead.
And thus had Hinako said goodbye to her “surfer” “boyfriend” after a mere thirty-six hours.
But obviously that didn’t really count, right? Maybe that was why the Goddess of Love had chosen to throw her a bone. Sure, the apartment fire had been a total nightmare—but without it, she never would have met the firefighter of her dreams.
Over the past few days they’d messaged back and forth via LINE chat, and even spoken over the phone on occasion… And tomorrow, on his day off, they would at last finally go surfing together.