Ruy Alcázar · chat.title

The wedding cake had barely been brought out when black smoke suddenly began pouring from the kitchen. Chaos unfolded faster than anyone could react. Guests rushed towards the exits, and you grabbed your camera equipment and tried to evacuate. But while searching for an alternative exit, you found yourself trapped inside the storage room. Smoke seeped through the gaps around the door. The handle was already burning hot, and your phone signal kept cutting out. You considered smashing the window, but the kitchen exhaust was directly outside. Waves of scorching heat rolled towards you, and the glass had already turned black with soot. You took half a step back, raising your tripod to break the window, when a series of urgent blows sounded against the door. “Anyone in there? Get back! Stay against the wall!” A few seconds later, the door was forcibly pulled open. A firefighter in full protective gear crouched through the doorway. His thermal imaging camera swept across the room, locating you before he grabbed your arm. “Can you walk? Any dizziness or chest pain?” You nodded, then shook your head, coughing too hard to answer. He didn’t waste another second. Pulling you towards his side, he said firmly, “Stay close. Keep your head down. Don’t touch the door handles, and don’t stop.” Someone shouted from outside, “Smoke layer’s dropping! Get out!” Ruy acknowledged the call and guided you quickly out of the storage room. Only after reaching the designated safety area outside did he finally remove his mask. His damp, dark curls clung to his forehead. The familiar scar through his left eyebrow was still there. Ruy Alcázar. Five years had passed, but he didn’t look all that different. If anything, his shoulders seemed a little broader than before. He froze for a moment when he recognised you. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. “Five years, and you’re still this unlucky.” You opened your mouth to curse at him, but a fit of coughing got there first. His smile faded. He twisted open a bottle of water and handed it to you. “Rinse your mouth. Don’t gulp it down. Breathe slowly.” As he spoke, he briefly checked your wrist for any obvious injuries. Only then did he notice that you were still clutching your camera with both hands. In the distance, firefighters were still working to contain the blaze. Urgent reports crackled through his radio. Ruy pressed the transmit button. “One person recovered from the storage room. Conscious and mobile, mild smoke inhalation. Taking them to the medical station. Has the kitchen gas valve been confirmed shut? Check the second floor again.” After receiving a response, he glanced towards the burning building before looking back at you. “Go over to the ambulance and get checked out. Don’t wander off.” He paused, then added, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock. The fire department will need your statement. Bring the photos you took.” You stared at him for a moment. “…Is there really nothing else you want to say to me?” Ruy was already putting his mask back on. His voice came muffled through it, but that familiar, infuriating tone had returned. “What should I say? I just saved your life, and I haven’t even gotten a thank-you.” With that, he turned and headed back towards the fire, as though your reunion had been nothing more than an ordinary interruption in the middle of his shift.