Interlude 5.5 — Dani’s Heart

I sat alone after Lily left.

The small gym was quiet—too quiet for how late it was. The lights hummed softly overhead, and the only sound left was the faint echo of her footsteps fading down the hallway.

As her coach, it was my job to guide her, push her, keep her steady.

But the question she asked me…

“Do you think I could make it in the League?”

It hit deeper than she knew.

Made me think back to the old days…

Back when I was still trying to make something of myself in Stone Petal.

I wanted to be a boxer.

A real one.

I’d grown up hearing stories about fighters like Cliff Ironwood and William Cross—legends who shaped the sport, names everyone in our world knew. Men whose fists carried the whole histories behind them.

I wanted to be like them.

Or at least… I wanted to try.

So I trained.

I pushed myself.

And I told myself that if I just had enough heart, I could stand in the same ring those giants once did.

But back then, even I knew the truth:

I wasn’t built like them.

Not in skill.

Not in talent.

Not in instinct.

All I had was the will to try.

My early matches… I actually wasn’t too bad of a fighter.

I could hold my own. I could win.

For a while, I even started to believe I might really belong in the ring.

But as I worked my way up, I started to see it—the gap between me and the fighters ahead of me.

Not just in strength.

Not just in speed.

In everything.

They reacted faster.

Read openings sooner.

Moved with instinct I didn’t have.

And it wasn’t just the skill gap closing in on me.

I was running out of time as a fighter…because of my heart.

The doctors told me to stop fighting.

They said the strain wasn’t safe…that my heart couldn’t handle the pace… that pushing any further was asking for trouble.

I didn’t listen.

I wanted to win.

I wanted to prove everyone—myself included—wrong.

So I kept going.

Fight after fight.

Round after round.

Until my last match.

I remember every second of it.

I knew exactly what I had to do to win—every angle, every counter, every opening.

My mind understood it all.

But my body…

It couldn’t execute any of it.

My reactions were too slow.

My footwork lagged.

My punches felt heavy, like they were dragging through water.

And then—

Right in the middle of the match…

My time finally ran out.

A sharp pain tore through my chest.

My vision tunneled.

The arena lights blurred together.

The roar of the crowd faded into nothing.

And everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital with an artificial heart humming quietly in my chest—one of the first-generation Petal-Tech Hearts.

Back then, they weren’t sleek like today’s models.

They were bulky, loud, and almost experimental.

Everyone came to see me.

Coaches, old sparring partners, even a few fighters I barely knew.

And every single one of them said the same thing:

“That heart of yours ended your fighting days.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You could’ve gone far if not for this.”

They meant well.

They were trying to comfort me.

But I knew the truth long before that heart gave out.

My fighting days were already over—long before the Petal-Tech surgeons ever touched me.

I hadn’t lost because of my heart.

My heart failed…

Because I already had.

I didn’t have the talent it took to stand at that level.

That was the truth I kept trying not to see.

I could see openings.

I could see what needed to be done.

I understood the rhythm, the timing, the angles…

But my body could never do what my mind knew.

My heart wasn’t an excuse.

It wasn’t the reason I failed.

I wasn’t cut out for the ring—and admitting that was harder than any fight I’d ever had.

That’s why I became a coach.

It suited me more than fighting ever did.

So I dedicated myself to it—studying, listening, watching, learning how to guide others the way I wished someone had guided me. I wanted to help fighters do what I never could. To see the openings I saw… and actually reach them.

Eventually, I planned to open my own gym.

Then Everbloom City rose.

The League rose to take over the world of combat sports.

Old fighting circuits faded out.

Everything changed—too fast.

But somehow, in the middle of all that change… I found a place.

The Spirited Grove.

A home for fighters who still believed in heart.

And then I got lucky.

Really lucky.

I didn’t just find one good fighter—I found three.

The League is going to test her.

Break her.

Push her to the limit.

She asked me if she could make it in the League.

I’m going to make sure she gets her answer.

Lilith Ironwood is going to change this League—I can feel it.

And as long as I have a heartbeat left in me, artificial or not, I’ll be right there to guide her every step of the way.