Before starting this chapter, I must first thank Karina for faithfully reviewing this fic, regardless of chapter quality, filler arcs, and a surplus of paragraph breaks. You are a credit to readers in general, and reviewers in particular.
Secondly, as Hn does not appear to have been around the past two weeks, I have no alternative but to assume that they have been the tragic victim of a car crash, or possibly has been taking prisoner during an uber-secret Quebec-based spy operation. One can never know. I offer my condolences to friends and family, and their enthusiastic and friendly reviews will be sorely missed.
Thirdly, before wondering about logic, I urge you to remember the following: adrenaline, sleep-deprived delirium, and the odd, odd structure of the juvenile mind.
I apologize for the wait.
Daisya woke up to the smell of smoke hanging in the air, and the sensation of burning heat.
The sharp intake of breath scraped through his throat like sandpaper, the smoke already clouding his eyes and making them sting. Fire. It wasn't here yet, but it would be soon.
He tried to get up, tangling himself with his blankets before he fell to the floor, coughing. The wooden floor was hot. Through blurred eyes, he picked out the red glow behind the door, eating away at it.
They had a few minutes. The door wasn't an option, so he'd have to jump out the window. It was about fifteen feet, or so. If they were both awake, and preferably with something softer than packed dirt beneath them, they could make it. He'd jumped out windows before, though those ones had been a lot closer to the ground. The old man and Marie didn't seem to be here, so they wouldn't be any help. Exorcists traveled in secret, and the innkeeper would have gotten them if he'd been around, or conscious.
So they were on their own.
Daisya pulled the collar of his shirt over his mouth, and took a deep breath. They had to get out of there.
In a flash of movement, grabbed the bed frame to pull himself up, and recoiled. It was metal, and hot enough to leave a burn. He quickly stuck his fingers in his mouth, and stayed low to the ground, making his way to Kanda's bed. Despite the heat and the smoke, he didn't seem to have woken up. Weird. And, Daisya saw as he approached, he was tossing about as if fighting something in his sleep.
"Kanda, wake up! Kanda!"
Daisya stood up, eyes narrowed in the smoke, and shook Kanda by the shoulders. If he didn't wake up soon, he'd be sick from the smoke.
"Kanda!"
The fire started eating through the door as the exorcist's head lolled, and his lips moved imperceptibly.
"Alma…"
Daisya winced as he heard the crackling. Not much time left, but he still had some. The old man and Marie might have more important stuff in their bags than just a few spare clothes. He'd best grab them.
He dragged Kanda out of the bed and across the floor, laying him down underneath the window. If he tossed Kanda out unconscious, the best he'd come off with was some bruising or a broken leg. At worst, he'd be dead. Necks were pretty easy to break, he'd been told.
He ran back into the room, shielding his face with his hands. The fire was past the door now, so this was not a smart idea, but he couldn't wake Kanda up, and he couldn't jump with him without breaking something. Doing this, the worst he'd come off with was burns. And besides, he was used to the heat and the smoke. Bodrum without brush fires was like a day there without sunshine. Never happened.
He grabbed the old man's bag, then the rest of theirs for good measure. They weren't so heavy, now that he thought about it. Actually, minus the heat and the smoke, he felt alive.
A flame licked closer to his feet, and he skidded backwards. That was close. Now the flames were halfway up the two beds closest to the door, and moving quickly. He half crawled, half ran back to the window. The smoke was getting thicker by the moment.
What Daisya didn't know or notice was that the attic, full of dry straw and dust, was already ablaze, and working its way through the ceiling.
The door was coals, and flames curled off the floor and the ceiling. Daisya dragged the last backpack beneath the window, keeping low to the ground. Kanda still hadn't woken up, which wasn't good. He'd have to jump with him, but the bags would break the fall. If they were lucky, they'd get away with a twisted ankle or two.
Daisya stood up, pushed open the shutters, and flung the lamp behind him. Waiting a few moments longer would kill time. Kanda and Marie would probably say it would kill him too, but it gave just a few more moments for Kanda to wake up. People were staying away from the burning inn, so there was a chance the backpacks would still be there when they had to jump.
One, two, three, four. The flames snaked across the room. The heat was unbearable, but even so he took his shirt off, balling it up and tossing it out the window. Better a small burn on your skin than your clothing on fire. That's what they said.
It was hot as hell, and dry as a desert.
Just like home.
"Kanda!"
One last shout and a kick, and a pair of dark eyes blinked open.
"Daisya…"
The word was a gasp, and Kanda's eyes looked red and raw.
"What are you...what the hell is going on?!"
The tail of the sentence flicked up in panic as Kanda took in the scene. He tried to stagger to his feet.
But Daisya had already slung Kanda's arm over his shoulder, and stood up. He could barely see back into the room for smoke and flames. Coals had started to fall from the ceiling, marking the floor.
"Inn's on fire. You've got to jump."
Daisya pushed Kanda up to the window, which was just low enough for him to climb up on to the sill.
Kanda looked down on to the street, and Daisya saw a ghost moving somewhere behind his eyes.
Alma…
He tried to keep his voice calm, but the fire was close. Kanda had been shielded by his distance and now by the air outside, but he already suspected he was pretty burnt up. He'd regret this, later.
"Kanda, you've got to jump!"
Kanda seed oddly frozen.
Something heavy and wooden fell a few feet behind him, but Daisya didn't bother to look. His heart was already hammering in his ears. He'd wasted too much time.
"Kanda!"
Daisya heard something closer to him crack, and finally gave into the urge to look.
The fire was a few feet from him, almost at the fallen lamp, and embers were practically raining from the ceiling. The heavy wooden crossbeam above the window was weakening by the moment. He could feel the hairs crisping on the back of his neck.
Something jumped up and down in his memory, sticking out its tongue in a desperate attempt to attract his attention.
There was something liquid around his feet.
The lamp. The glass spilling kerosene.
"I…can't…"
He was barely aware of Kanda's murmur, but the world suddenly aligned in his mind.
...
Kanda felt frozen. Hideously frozen.
He remembered a cliff from…that time. Just before he met Marie.
He had to jump.
He had to jump.
Alma…
He couldn't hear the fire crackling behind him, eating at the wood.
Alma…
He was vaguely aware of Daiysa's yelling.
Alma…
Alma…
"I can't…"
Kanda felt a hand in the small of his back.
...
Daisya gave a small laugh, and pushed.
Kanda fell out of the window as the crossbeam fell, and the flames found the lamp. There was the sound of falling embers and flying glass and wordless agony.
Two voices screamed.
"DAISYA!"