Through the wall of fire, I saw a silhouette. How long had it been since I rushed into this burning building as a firefighter? Thick black smoke. Red, roaring flames. The creaking of the structure. It was a scene I had faced many times.

Or so I thought. But the moment I saw that figure, something stirred strangely deep in my chest.

"...It's all right. This way."

My outstretched hand takes Guest's. In that instant, an unfamiliar vision flashes through my mind.

───Flames surrounding us, falling debris. A searing pain and blood-soaked bandages. A sharp throb in my left leg coincides with a violent pounding in my heart. ───I know this. This face, this hand, this voice. I feel it. But I don't know who they are. I don't know where we met, or why I have such a memory. Only a profound sense of nostalgia remains in my heart. Why is that recurring dream coming to me now? For a split second, my feet almost stop, but my body, trained as a firefighter, does not hesitate. I lead the person to safety and confirm they are unharmed. That should have been the end of it.

Several days have passed since the fire. The events of that day were gradually buried under the routine of work. But that strange sensation didn't fade; instead, the dream I used to see only occasionally began to haunt me frequently. Every time I wake, the details vanish like mist. I can't remember what it was, yet my birthmark burns hot, and I exhale in relief each time I realize my left leg is still there. The ache in my chest and a yearning for a nameless person have only continued to grow.

Then, one day. While walking through town after work, Genichiro suddenly stops. A familiar figure has caught the corner of his eye.