“You’re finally number two!” The screen lit up with voices. “They call you the fastest growing boxer of the century! How do you feel?”

Bread watched them interview his favorite boxer. The way she sat there so lax and unbound, it made him all the more happy that there was somebody out there living a life that he’d always wanted to live.

“Feels great.” Valkyrie leaned against the back of the sofa, hands still in her pockets. It almost felt like she was a completely different person from the Valkyrie he’d seen in the ring. “Feels like forever since I’ve felt this good.” She smiled, but Bread thought he could see a slight tinge of sadness in her eyes. Nobody else seemed to notice though.

“Well,” the interviewer continued, “that’s well deserved, isn’t it?” He paged through an electronic tablet. “Ah, a question for you—what motivated you to come this far?”

“What motivated me…” There it was again. That smile. But it was gone as fast as it had formed. “Did you know I like dandelions? I look up to them, you know.”

“You look up to… weeds?” The interviewer awkwardly laughed. “Why that’s very unconventional!”

“I mean, yeah. Sure, they’re just weeds. And you can find them anywhere… But I still think they’re pretty cool.”

“Really? And why is that, may I ask?”

“Hmm…” She looked around, rubbing her hands against her thighs as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “See, it’s like this.” Her hands flew, gesturing erratically around her. “They’re small and weak, but somehow, they manage to grow out of everything! Like cement, asphalt. I even saw one spring up from the side of my gym! I think that’s something I can kind of respect. When they’re growing so strong in any kind of environment, it just makes me feel… small. Like my problems don’t mean shit compared to theirs.”

“Well, that was quite enlightening.” The interviewer nodded, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. “I enjoy the way you think.”

It didn’t sound like he meant it.

“Yeah…” Valkyrie kept going. “If you ever get that second chance, you just gotta go for it.” She looked downcast. Her smile, fleeting but faint, faltered beneath her eyes. “Boxing, to me, is like a dandelion. It’s a reminder of my past; it’s my resolve to keep going. So I won’t give up. Not until I show my lil’ bro the world—”

“Ah!” The interviewer nodded quickly. He seemed to have caught onto a new, more interesting topic. “I heard Beady was his name. Are you also fighting so hard because he’s watching?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, eyes darting around nervously. “I guess, uh, you can put it that way.”

The interviewer heartily laughed. “I’m sure he’s cheering you on proudly!”

She smirked. “I hope so.”

A new emotion washed over Bread. He could hear his heart pounding from his chest, his breath was calmer than ever.

Inspiration.

Or maybe it was admiration. Whatever it was, he could almost dream of getting out of here. He wouldn’t give up either. He could be free like her. He could—

A slight rustling entered his ears. Someone was there.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Goosebumps dotted his skin, rippling across his arms like a disease. He could feel the beating in his heart heightening even further—louder, faster and faster… He turned around—a figure. Tall, black suit, familiar…

He caught his breath.

“Go on,” the man spoke. He was sitting on the table, still as a lake. “I won’t interrupt. Keep watching.”

Bread glanced back at the screen, but the interview was over. There was nothing more to watch. “I-I’m sorry. I won’t—”

“Take your time.”

“I-I, uh, what?” Unfinished thoughts spilled out of his mouth. He’d never expected such words to come out from the man. “Take… my time?”

“Take your time,” the man repeated. “Tell me why you like boxing. There must be a reason for it.” His intense gaze locked onto him.

“I…” Bread nervously squirmed in place. His voice faltered; his mind blanked. All those records in his head, and yet, he couldn’t produce a single, coherent thought.

“Am I a bother?”

Bother?

“I am, aren’t I?” The man turned himself around. “Take your time. I’m much more patient than you think.”

Bread finally managed to squeak out, “W-why are you doing this?” The man felt different from before—like he’d just changed personalities.

“I may have judged prematurely,” the man called out. “I just want to know so that I can better understand you. What is it about that bloody, disgusting—”

“It’s not disgusting!” he blurted out. “I-it’s not… I’m sorry.”

“No. Keep going.” The man glanced down at the boy’s trembling hands. Bread quickly covered them up. The man continued, “Stay calm. I want to hear your thoughts. I want to know why.”

“I-it’s…” Words started pouring out. He couldn’t stop. “Beautiful.” Bread could imagine the scenery unfolding in his mind. “The way she moves in the ring, the way she jumps… It reminds me of-of… a bird.”

“A bird? What kind? Chicken?”

He shook his head. “No, it just feels…” He couldn’t quite understand how it felt. Something about feeling lighter around the chest. “Easier to breathe.”

“Easier to breathe?”

“L-like…” He started to imagine himself breaking through the window, jumping into the air. “I’m flying…” Soaring, gliding through the canvas of blue. “Like I’m in the air, like I’m…” He could feel the cool breeze ruffling his feathers. There was nothing holding him back anymore. Nothing was in his way. “Free…”

The man’s eyes widened by just a sliver of hair. “You do have emotion.” And then he smiled what felt like a real smile for the first time—so soft and sad, so similar to somebody Bread had just seen… But the expression quickly disappeared. “Well said,” the man replied, colder this time. “I think I understand what the problem is.”

Bread watched as the man walked past him, stopping just in front of the window. The tips of numerous massive skyscrapers peaked through the cotton clouds like a stack of needles.

“You wish for freedom,” he said. “Understandable.” He then started mumbling something under his breath. “A copy…” Then he turned back around. His eyes were still intense but tolerable. He really did feel different. “I can promise you your freedom.”

“Really?” It was yet another thing Bread hadn’t expected. Was he finally going to be free?

“But only after I—” The man paused as if he were considering what to say next. Instead, he stopped mid-sentence and continued on as if nothing had happened. “Until then, I wish for you to listen. Do as you’ve done today and think. Say whatever it is that’s on your mind, and when the time comes, I’ll give you what you wish for.”

“W-will you really let me go?”

“I will.”

The moment Bread had heard those final words, he felt his throat tighten. Free… He could finally fly—get away from this place. A hero! That’s who the man was—a savior just like Valkyrie. He was finally going to be free. And for the first time, hope swelled up beneath all his fears. It was the first time…

He was allowed to dream.