In Your Memories…

“… wake up… Bread, wake up…”

Bread gasped awake. His eyes fluttered open. In front of him was a figure who was all too familiar.

“Good. You’re fine… Thank god.”

“Dad?” It was him. In the flesh. “You’re… alive.” His eyes watered. But why? All his memories of Dad were a jumbled mess. So many promises broken, so many experiences where he was trying to escape… But why did he feel so relieved to see him? “You’re still alive…”

“Of course. Are you alright?”

He nodded. But then his eyes drew towards Azan. He was sprawled out, chest still heaving up and down. He was still alive. There was a fleeting moment of hesitation. Then his blood started to boil—

“He’s fine.” Dad’s words cut through his mind. “Don’t worry about him. He’s been through enough already.”

“He tried to kill you!”

“He’s fine,” he repeated. “He tried to kill you. Not me.”

“But he was laughing when you—you died…”

“I’m fine,” he reassured him. “See?” He pounded at his chest. He grimaced with every hit. “No pain.”

“But you’re bleeding…” Bread didn’t believe a single word. Common sense told him Dad was in critical condition. He was dying. He wasn’t fine.

“Just a flesh wound.” He tried his best to smile. Then his eyes rested on Bread’s dimly lit core. “Why did you come back here?”

“What?” Bread peered down at his own injury. He didn’t feel much pain there. Not like the aching of his muscles. “It’s okay. I’m fine too.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“What are you? Stupid? That doesn’t mean you’re fine.” He pulled his pinky finger off. It popped out into a long, black cable. “Here.” Dad motioned for him to get closer.

“What is that?”

“It’ll send you back to Simular. You’ll die if you stay out here.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be there,” he quickly responded.

“No you won’t…” Bread’s eyes fell to his bleeding chest. “You—you promised to cook with me!” His eyes started to water again. He had already lost Coach. He didn’t want to lose Dad too.

“I thought you would’ve forgotten by now.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Bread. I keep my promises. I’ll be there to cook. You and me, right?”

“You’re lying…”

“You’ve really grown, haven’t you?” Dad strained a smile again. He ruffled his hair; the blood got all over. “You’ve matured. Then you should know better. I’m not your dad. Far from it.”

What was he saying? “No, you’re my dad. You said you were.”

“I’ve done things a parent should’ve never done.”

“I don’t care. You promised.”

“Bread, listen to me.” He leaned back against the wall, groaning with every movement. “The world’s large. And you have a lifetime of things waiting for you out there.”

“I don’t want to be out there… I’m not even real…”

“Really?” He shook his head. “After all that… Listen, it doesn’t matter if you’re real or not. Just live.”

“But it’s common sense—”

“Shut up with the common sense. Throw that away. Remember what I told you before? You have to think outside the box. You—” He paused. Then he took a deep breath. “If you still don’t mind me being your dad after all I’ve done, then I promise—I’ll always think of you as my son.”

“I—” Bread stopped himself. Common sense—No, his instincts told him to stop. It was just like Coach all over again. A final farewell speech. He didn’t want to hear it. Any of it.

“It’s alright. I don’t want to force you.” He patiently waited, hanging onto Bread’s silence. “If you don’t want me to—”

“I…” But he couldn’t help it. “I don’t mind…”

A smile sprouted from his face. “Thank you, Bread. For letting me have that title.” He paused as if he were taking it all in. Then he asked, “Do you know what makes a human, human? What defines being real?”

“You—you said it was because of curiosity…”

“I did, didn’t I? But I changed my mind.” He reached out towards the ceiling. As if he were holding something delicately within his grasp. “It’s not just your origin of birth that determines that. I believe what makes a human, human… is if you have a soul.”

“A soul?” The spiritual aspect of being human. His records told him so. Obviously, he didn’t have one. How could he if he wasn’t born human in the first place?

“But did you know that you can attain a soul?”

Attain? A soul? “How?” Could he really just get a soul? Even if he never had one? Could he really become real just like that? No, that wasn’t true. Dad was lying. “That’s impossible…”

“Nothing’s impossible, Bread. I know how you can get one too.”

“You’re lying.” Dad was making things up. A soul wasn’t even a real thing. It was just a made-up, imaginary concept.

“I’m not. Want me to prove it?” Dad spread out his arms. “Can I have a hug?”

A hug? What did that have to do with… But he leaned in anyway. He wrapped his arms around and squeezed.

“Oof. You’re a lot heavier than I thought.” He softly tapped Bread’s back in rhythm to his heartbeat. Bread could feel it through his chest. “A soul is easy to get,” he started. “All you need to do is believe… Just believe that you have one.”

Bread looked up. “That’s it?”

“Simple, right? Because if you believe you have a soul, you’re probably already human enough.” Dad chuckled. His somber eyes gazed back. “You don’t need to worry about being real, Bread. I’ll always be there to guide you through it. Look back into your memories and remember what I just told you now.”

“What…?” Into my memories? He tightened his grip. Tears started trickling down. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

“I will. I promise.”

For a moment, Bread stared out the broken window into that vibrant, ocean sky outside. The occasional birds dotted the cotton candy clouds like poppy seeds. And the warmth of the dandelion sun… It tickled his arms and neck.

He didn’t want it to end. He just wanted to stay here. Like this. Without a care in the world. If only he could actually stop time…

A final thought rested in his mind. A question that had been rolling around in his head for so long…

“Will you… reset me?”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“Because you said so.”

“No.” He sighed. “Of course not.”

And he asked one last time—“Will you come back?”

Dad didn’t answer. Bread felt something sliding into his neck. He already knew what it was. It was the cable that would send him back to Simular—his birthplace.

This was it. Whatever happened, he’d leave it up to fate. And he’d march on. But watching time tick away with every passing second hurt more than anything… It hurt so much because he knew deep down…

“I’ll always be with you, Bread. I promise.” He smiled. It was as bright as the dandelion sun. “Until you forget…”

Dad was still lying.