I Rejected the Firefighter Who Died for Me, Now I Chase Him novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Mask on His Face
Seo-won dies in a stairwell in smoke, wakes on the morning of the confession, and says yes to the firefighter who is alive again, who does not believe him.
The mask came down over Seo-won's face in the dark, and it smelled of rubber and burnt hair.
"Don't look," a voice said against his ear. "Just breathe."
Seo-won knew the voice.
A gloved hand held the mask in place, and the hand was shaking.
He breathed, and clean air hit his lungs.
"Good," Tae-min said. "That's it. You're so good at this, Architect."
Smoke rolled down the stairwell like black water.
It was twenty-seven floors from his office to the street, and Seo-won had drawn every one of them.
He had not drawn them for this.
Tae-min hauled him up onto his back and started down.
Behind them, glass cracked on the landing, one long bright sound.
"Tae-min," Seo-won tried to say, but the mask ate the word.
"Don't talk. Count the floors for me."
"Twenty-six."
"Twenty-five," Tae-min said, and his breath came out as a rasp.
They passed fifteen, and twelve, and nine.
Tae-min's boots slid on the wet steps and caught again.
His arm was locked around Seo-won's legs.
At the fourth floor he stopped.
"Hey," he said, so softly that Seo-won almost missed it. "I'm just going to rest a second."
He sat down on the landing with Seo-won still on his back.
Seo-won slid off and turned around, and tore at the strap of his own mask to push it onto Tae-min.
Tae-min's hand closed over his and pushed it back.
"Keep it on."
"Tae-min-ssi, you take it, you have to..."
"Don't look," Tae-min whispered. "Just breathe."
His head went down against Seo-won's shoulder.
His weight went still.
Seo-won woke with his own hand clamped over his mouth.
The ceiling was white, and there was sun on it.
It was his bedroom in Mangwon, with the rooftop door banging softly in the wind.
There was no smoke, and his lungs worked, and his phone said October 11th, early morning.
He sat up so fast the room tilted.
The fire had been on December 12th.
That was sixty-two days away, and he remembered the hour.
He did not think.
He grabbed the phone and called a number he had never once dialed on his own.
It rang four times.
"Ko Tae-min, Mapo Rescue." The voice was rough with sleep and warm all the way through. "Seo-won-ssi? Is something wrong?"
Seo-won could not speak.
He sat on the edge of his bed and listened to a man breathe.
"Seo-won-ssi? Are you hurt? Did you call by mistake?"
"No." His voice cracked. "I wanted to hear you."
Silence.
Then a startled laugh. "Okay. That's weird. Are you crying?"
"No."
"You sound like you're crying."
"I'm not." He wiped his face with the heel of his hand. "Go back to work."
"I'm off at nine. Ga-ram's birthday is tonight, you know. You're coming?"
Last time, he had gone, and he had ruined everything.
"I'm coming," Seo-won said.
The pork restaurant in Mangwon was loud and hot and smelled of garlic.
Ga-ram had taken the long table by the window and ordered for ten.
Seo-won took the seat beside the empty one and did not touch his soju.
Across from him, two coworkers from Daon argued about a client.
He barely heard them.
He was watching the door.
Tae-min came in late in a gray jacket, his hair still wet, and the whole room seemed to get warmer.
He was alive.
He was twenty-nine and broad in the shoulders.
There was a burn scar on the back of his left hand that Seo-won had never once asked about.
"Sorry, sorry," Tae-min said, and dropped into the empty seat beside him. "Traffic in Hapjeong."
His knee bumped Seo-won's under the table.
Seo-won did not move his leg away.
Tae-min noticed, and his eyes flicked down and up again.
The grill hissed.
Ga-ram told a story about his landlord, and everyone laughed, and Tae-min laughed loudest.
Then, halfway through the third round of pork, Tae-min set down his chopsticks.
His ears had gone red.
He stood up.
"Everyone, sorry. Give me one minute."
Seo-won's heart stopped.
He knew these words.
He had heard them once before, and he had answered them with the coldest thing he had ever said to a living person.
"Ha Seo-won," Tae-min said.
The table went quiet.
"I've liked you for four years. I know you think I'm too loud and I smell like smoke and I'm not your type."
His hand was shaking on the back of the chair.
"I'm not asking you to love me. I'm asking you to go out with me. Just once, just us. That's all."
Last time, Seo-won had looked at him over his glass and said, "Sit down. You're embarrassing yourself."
Last time, the whole table had laughed, and Tae-min had laughed too, so no one could see.
Seo-won put down his chopsticks.
He stood up.
He had never in his life done a thing he could not draw first.
"Yes," he said.
Ga-ram's soju glass hit the table.
"I'll go out with you," Seo-won said. His voice shook, and he let it. "Yes. Tomorrow, or tonight. Anytime you want."
Tae-min stared at him.
For one second his whole face was open, bright and scared and young.
Then he laughed, a kind, careful laugh, and it was the worst sound Seo-won had ever heard.
"Don't joke," he said. "Not about this. You've never been nice to me once."
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