[D2, MN, Closed] Go-yoh!

[Cearnach]

It had been a long day at the pork store. Haruo turned over in his sleep, pulling the blanket up over his head. His wife huffed, slapped him on the shoulder. "Give it back! It's cold, Har-kun!" He burrowed further into the tatami, rooting deep for that hidden shred of comfort that sleep was meant to bring to Ebisu's own...

*Klop-klop-klop-klop-klop!*

"Go-yoh! Go-yoh!"

Fire. Damn.

Haruo rolled out of bed, scrabbled to his knees, cast about for his shoes. "Damn it, Mari, did you move them again?"

"Well if you wouldn't leave them in the doorway!" Now Mariko was up, fetching the special shoes, his headband already in hand.

They got him dressed in silence, faces pinched tight, fingers slipping on the cords of his overshirt, as each fought to touch the other once more, to give reassurances that carried no comfort, that drowned in uncertainty.

[Cearnach]

When Haruo hit the street, other guys were staggering out of their own houses. He recognized Rikichi, Honzo, Old Man Nobu. Good guys. They'd fought the fires together for twenty years. Twenty years keeping Ikoma's Eye safe, and no one asks you where you came from before, what you might be running from. You're the fireman. You're the rock the neighborhood rests on. More solid than honor. More durable than shame.

As he ran toward the orange glow, his rattle clapping, the fireman's call issuing from deep within him (Go-yoh! Go-yoh!), he was joined by more. Water-fetchers, pole-guys, men with axes. They all ran, legs pumping, air bursting from parted lips. Heaving the cry (Go-yoh!) into a night scarred by the false sun--the fire already stretching out its tongue to consume all the work men do under Amaterasu's watchful eyes.

[Cearnach]

It never took long to fight a fire, but it was hard work to push a family's life in on itself. Watching the flames gorge put him in mind of the pigs behind the pork store. But the truly exhausting thing was comforting the bereaved. There was no comfort to be had. The neighborhood would feed them for a while. Thankfully, they did not work out of the house, so they could still find some money. Maybe they could rebuild.

But life is long and hard.

He sighed, squared his shoulders and trudged down the street, hugging the side to block the wind off the river. Most of the young guys had gone to drink with the boss, but he had to open early tomorrow. It was going to be hard enough getting back to sleep after all this excitement.

The hammer swung out of the alley and caught him flat in the face. He didn't even hit the street--the arms caught him, pulled him into the alley. It was half a breath before the work was done. Four more and he was rolled in the rug and slung over their shoulders.

And at home, Haruo's side of the bed grew colder, forced Mari to draw the blanket closer, to burrow deeper into the tatami, looking for that shred of comfort that sleep was meant to bring to Ebisu's own.