“I see,” Doad closed his eyes but his eyelids kept shaking, “thank you, sir. I will tell his family about this.” A teardrop went down his cheek like a drop of water when there wasn’t scarcity.

“You want vengeance?” the word came out with no tone but seriousness and sincerity.

“Who won’t!? Damn it!” Doad stood up and launched a punch at the tree behind him. Nor did the park or the tree answer him.

“Do you have a family?” Mooner looked toward Doad. His eyes were opened slightly more than usual. That was definitely not the kind of leisure eyes he had when he used to chill in parks.

“Why?” Doad looked at Mooner in the face the same way he stared at him. His fist was still on the tree. It was less than a feather compared with the tree, but it was there.

“You broke into that building with a stick only for your friends. That action proved not only how reckless you are, but also a unique braveness you have,” the homeless stood up from the park bench, still staring at Doad.

“So?”

“I want your help,” followed by a quick supplement, “I can share my power with others. You won’t need to work to pay your rent, mortgage, bill, or whatever.”

“But why me?” Doad pulled back his fist from the tree. He was not only confused but also felt that small shimmer deep down in himself.

“I can tell you want and wish to.”

“.......” the silence stayed as Mooner kept staring at Doad, and Doad looked away with his hand propped against the tree. He was shocked and confused. He knew he would accept it because he had no reason to refuse. His parents hadn’t contacted him for decades. His job was fucking frustrating. His wallet shrunk to pay utility bills. His own self was tired of living like an unchained slave.

Still, the case was too important to decide immediately. Although, Doad couldn’t think of any downside to it, except dangers that he was more than willing to take. “A plan?” he turned to the man in ragged cloth again. He knew the answer, but he still asked it.

“We will have,” Mooner said with pure hope in his eyes like there was a plan in front of her.

Perhaps, Doad didn’t know the answer.

“Whatever, I’m in,” Doad stepped a step closer to Mooner. He did it out of passion but he couldn’t understand this bumping tinder buried down inside his chest. That night, he dreamed of a young teenager sitting in front of a campfire, staying outside of every tent around him. He grasped his black scarf just to get a bit warmer.

“Uhmmmm! Uhmmmm!” the obstructed scream wasn’t loud enough to reach anyone but the one in front of the fire. The teen’s glinting eyes moved up with a numb curiosity.

The teen went closer to the tent. He numbly listened to the things that happened in the tent. His heart was already paralyzed by those corrupted teachers, and his fingers were frozen in the cold. He had no reason to stop those punches and blocked screams in the tent. Even if he really broke in and stop that abuse, those rich Izabelle wouldn’t start pulling their tentacles when they abused their power.

If he wasn’t going to help, why was he standing in front of the tent like he was hesitating? He asked himself the same question, but he couldn’t answer. Perhaps, he was waiting for those punches to reach his sleeping heart and bit it up to work again. Perhaps, he was waiting for the sobbing to crush the invisible ice on his hands.

As the damn wind blew, a small piece of fire flew into midair and landed on the teen’s nose as he looked back at the campfire. The call of destination was a good enough excuse to free him.

He reached his hands to the zipper and stepped into the tent immediately. He set his sharp eyes on that girl holding her fist and that half-naked boy that was about to lose his underwear if the teen didn’t come. The true man standing there couldn’t tell if he was gazing at the boy on the floor or glaring at the girl on him.

“You fucking…” a punch hit right on the girl’s silver lip ring before she could finish her sentence.

Now, the teen knew what he was looking at. The girl and her future of losing at least three teeth were what he was glaring at. That future was nothing but an occupation in his mind. He couldn’t even move his sight slightly to see whose blood was on his fist. He would like to think it was her and her only.

“Doad. You crossed the line!” Fists and else was the second last thing Doad could remember from the dream. Before he fell to the floor, he stared at that damn girl leaving the tent and heard a sentence that contained two words, “thank you”.

Sat up from the bed, Doad noticed that there was liquid sliding down his cheeks. He wiped those tears off his face as his sight landed on his boss’s angry messages of him asking for a three-month vacation.

Doad threw the phone on his old half-broken bed while looking out the window. It was still nighttime.

When was the last time he wandered in the night without a burden or duty? Allmooner would tell him the plan before they met again. What was stopping Doad from that small walk he just felt for?

He himself was the one. That feeling of being trapped in the door was no ease to throw away, but he wasn’t an ordinary man like his neighbor next door or across the street.

He could make a step. He could reach his feet outside the birdcage when no one else could even think about it. That wasn’t just a joke to get himself killed but to show his courage in front of all the men in power.