[Novel] Orange Embers

I

The wind died down.
The bonfire's light suddenly sank into an orange glow. Every time the flames flickered, the faces of the three men emerged and then vanished.

A winter mountain night.
The men said nothing. The sound of the firewood crackling served as their conversation.

“...The fire is getting weak.”
Keita, the youngest, said. There was a hint of fear in his voice.

“Add more wood.”
Soichi, the eldest, said curtly. The sound of him snapping a branch in his hand tore through the night air.

Beside him, the man with fingers as delicate as a woman's—Tatsuo—stared at the orange flames and muttered,
“Fire is like us, isn't it?”

Soichi looked up. Keita looked back, puzzled.

“At first, someone lights it, and it burns brightly. But... eventually, no one adds any more wood.”

The fire reflected in Tatsuo's eyes looked like fading hope.

II

The three of them once worked at the same factory.
In a place filled with the smell of iron and the smoke of sweat, there was no distinction between morning and night. Soichi was the foreman. Tatsuo was a man who was dexterous and worked in silence. Keita was the newcomer who made nothing but mistakes.

One winter day, there was a fire at the factory.
No one said clearly what the cause was. But everyone knew.
It was Soichi's decision not to fix that old wiring.
And the night before, Tatsuo had reported it.
Keita had simply watched.

Since that night, the three had walked separate paths.
But now, for the first time in ten years, they were gathered around a bonfire in front of a mountain cabin.

III

The orange light illuminated their faces as if burning them.
After a long silence, Keita said abruptly.

“After that fire... I quit, and I've been afraid of looking at fire ever since.”

Tatsuo gave a small laugh.
“I was the opposite. I've been looking at myself in the flames the whole time.”

Soichi said nothing.
A spark grazed his cheek.

Eventually, Soichi opened his mouth.
“...That day, I believed in my own judgment. But I didn't realize it was a mistake until the flames rose.”

The bonfire flared up and popped.
The orange light highlighted the wrinkles on Soichi's hands.
“Orange is the color that lingers longest in a fire.”

Tatsuo looks up.
"If red is anger and blue is the end... then orange must be forgiveness."

Soichi gave a small nod.

IV

Before dawn, the bonfire had turned mostly to ash.
Mixed with the scent of the wind, a rooster crowed in the distance.

Keita puts the last piece of firewood into the fire.
The orange light enveloped the three men's faces once again.

"...I wonder if we can gather again."
Keita's voice trembled, as if in prayer.

Tatsuo smiled.
"As long as there is fire."

Soichi stood up, took off his gloves, and held his hands over the fire.
It looked as if the soot from the old factory still remained deep within the wrinkles of his palms.

A wind blew.
The orange glow flared brighter, and then, quietly vanished.

The residual heat of the embers warmed their hearts.

V (Conclusion)

What remained were ashes and the lingering trace of orange.
Treading upon them, the three men began to walk down their separate paths.

—Even after burning out, the light remains.

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