.Inertia

My eyes widened at the sight of the building.

This... was a true inferno. Flames raged wildly, licking the night sky with a furious red glow. The smoke was so thick it choked anyone nearby. Even from this distance, I could feel the searing heat burning my skin.

The scene was pure chaos. Residents flooded the street, working together to fight the fire. They must have just been woken from sleep, but with the roar of flames and shouts all around, no one could remain asleep.

People ran to and fro—some colliding and slipping in their panic.

In the middle of the turmoil, my eyes caught something—a well, half-hidden behind bushes not far from where I stood.

Without thinking, I grabbed a few empty buckets lying nearby and rushed to the well, my breath uneven.

Stupidly, no one else thought to use it. Everyone was relying on taps—whose weak water pressure was useless against a fire this size.

I began drawing water from the old well. One by one, I filled the buckets to the brim.

Once they were full, I shouted to get the others’ attention, forcing my voice through the roar of fire and the frantic cries around us.

"Sir... Sir! Here, use the water in these buckets!" my voice was nearly swallowed by the blaze and the chorus of panicked screams.

Fortunately, a few people heard me. They turned their heads and quickly rushed toward me.

“Y-You stay here, alright? Just focus on drawing water. We’ll take care of carrying it!” said one middle-aged man, his breath ragged, his shirt soaked in sweat.

"Later, when the buckets have been used, bring them right back here. Let this guy fill them up again!" he continued, now in a louder tone, informing the others.

Sure enough, more and more residents came in turns. They handed me the empty buckets, and I filled them again, one after another.

I worked as fast as I could—hauling, filling, moving nonstop. At one point I staggered, breath ragged, drenched in sweat. My throat was dry, my strength fading.

For a moment, I stared at the flames, vision blurred. It felt hopeless. A blaze this massive—how could it be stopped with nothing but buckets passed hand to hand? Without firefighters, this seemed like a futile struggle.

The lower floors were nearly gone, flames already spreading upward, devouring the sides of the building.

"Sir, has anyone called the fire department?" I asked hurriedly to a man standing in front of me, waiting for his bucket to be filled.

“They have, son. They’re on their way. Should be here in about fifteen minutes,” he said, panting, his face tight with worry.

He took the bucket and turned—only to be stopped by a woman clutching his arm.

“P-Please, sir... my baby’s still inside—upstairs...” she cried, her voice breaking. Her body shook, sobs tearing through her words.

“J-Just a little longer, ma’am… the firefighters will be here soon,” he replied, voice shaky with fear.

“P-Please, sir… if we wait for them, my baby might not make it out alive!” she wept, her cries growing louder, more desperate.

“I-If the fire’s already that big… none of us can go in, ma’am,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper, stammering with fear. “Without proper gear… there’s no way we can get through the flames.”

Then, without another word, the man slowly released the woman's grip, turned, and went back to the line of residents busy putting out the fire on the building's exterior. He left her sobbing in helplessness.

Seeing and hearing that, I shifted my gaze back to the building still being devoured by flames. My eyes followed the path of the blaze, observing where the fire was spreading, quickly calculating the speed of the flames, fanned by the rather strong night wind.

By my rough estimate, fifteen minutes was not a short time. For a fire of this size, that much time was more than enough to engulf the upper floors—and in the worst-case scenario, it could cause the entire building structure to collapse before the firefighters arrived.

I approached the woman—the woman who was now sitting weakly on the ground, her body trembling helplessly. She continued to cry, her mouth ceaselessly pleading for her baby to be saved from the increasingly wild blaze.

"Which floor is the baby on, ma'am?" I asked, my voice nervous and my breath held.

Slowly, she turned towards me. Her hand trembled as she tried to wipe away the tears that continued to stream from her eyes.

"O-On the fourth floor, sir... P-Please... please save my child..." she stammered, then lowered her head, gripping my leg tightly. Half of her body bowed in an almost kneeling position.

And somehow, for the first time that night, my heart and mind felt aligned. As if they were speaking in the same frequency. Something stirred within me—releasing the inertia that had kept me heavy and restrained all this time.

Unlike when I was curled up at the edge of the bridge, swallowed whole by fear…

Without another thought, I immediately set into motion a plan that had just flashed through my mind.

"Excuse me, ma'am... may I borrow your jacket?" I asked, crouching down, looking at the thick cotton jacket she was wearing.

"H-Here, sir..." she replied quickly, immediately taking off the jacket and handing it to me.

Without wasting any time, I submerged the jacket into a bucket of water until it was completely soaked. I poured the remaining water from the bucket all over my body; wetting my hair, face, clothes, until my skin shivered. Amidst the panic, I also took a small sip of the water, to quell the thirst that was becoming increasingly piercing.

I draped the jacket over my shoulders, then immediately put it on without waiting for the water to stop dripping. Without a hint of hesitation, I ran through the partially open building door—charging into the wild flames raging inside.

Some people tried to stop me...

They shouted...

“Hey, don’t go in, sir—!”

“D-Don’t be reckless, it’s d-dangerous—!”

But I pushed through anyway...