Chapter 2: Departure

"For any questions you may have, read the letter and you'll have a better understanding of what's happened. It'll also give you directions on what to do next proceeding this point. Dr Eli," called the Chief Surgeon. His voice was rather smooth and measured like pouring honey as he delivered this devastating news to Ayaan. Not a single strand of hair escaped from the perfectly combed grey-black bunch that covered his scalp. His hazel eyes remained utterly still like frosted glass. Ayaan was frozen in space, her mouth slightly open yet she remained oblivious to this fact out of shock. His tone never wavered from the first word to the last as if he was discussing some mundane subject.

Ayaan sat there, stared down upon by the two as she held the envelope. She could hear her own breathing, shallow and even. It was as if her body was operating on autopilot while her mind struggled to process these words that the Chief Surgeon had uttered. Words that kept echoing: 'You' and 'discontinued'. Simple and common words that should have never been in such an order, not in reference to her.

"Ehem," Eli cleared his throat sharply trying to snatch her attention from the dream killer she held in her hands. A slight pause followed and everyone in the room turned to him. In his hand was a piece of paper, Ayaan's test results. As if she had not had enough already, he wanted to completely crush her already feeble soul.

"Here are your test results, for the field work you had yesterday," he said handing her the sheet of paper. His steel-grey eyes refused to shake even at the sight of Ayaan's nearly crumpled face. His posture remained rigid, spine as straight as a ruler. His voice was flat, no sympathy detected in his clipped tone. His usually emotionless stare however, was different. Ayaan could not quite put a pin on it but it was as if he was breaking out of character. His lips curved in what would have been a smile on everyone else. Ayaan could see it, he was pleased with the events that had just occurred, that was a smug look on him. The two had spent enough time together for her to note a sudden shift in his demeanor and facial expression despite the fact that leading to this moment he had never shown any emotion whatsoever.

Ayaan took the papers from him and slowly rolled her eyes down to see it as she retracted her arm: Tacticality: 1/5', 'Agility: 4/5', 'Weapon mastery: 2/5', 'Composure: 2/5', 'Combat skill: 2/5', 'Situational awareness: 1/5', 'Alacrity: 1/5', 'Adaptability: 2.5/5', 'Prudence: 0/5', 'Enginuity: 2/5', 'Total: 17.5/50', '35%'. Hilariously enough, she had prior thought things were bad not realizing it could all get much worse. Somehow, the results made her feel a rather sudden burning sensation in her heart. It was as if the universe was conducting a shaming ritual and chose her as its sacrifice.

"That's all, now if you would please excuse us," said the Chief Surgeon. She stared at her results for a moment zoning in and out of reality. His voice, a low, steady hum made it so formal that she could tell they did not care. It was nothing personal, just business. She was holding herself back, she wanted to kneel down and beg them to reconsider her but the casual nature of his voice, it's almost friendly and soft yet icy tone silenced her.

Slowly, she got up and walked out of the office. Her back was slightly hunched and her eyes wide open locked onto the ground. Each tick of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to amplify the deafening silence. She felt a strange detachment wash over her.

"She was waste of time and resources," said Eli drawled as his gaze swept over the room with a practiced disdain. His voice had a silken thread of condescension.

"Hmm, is that so? No matter, its better this way. The old ways were much crueler, can't imagine them going through that," his words flowed with a bitter taste of remorse. He sat back; it seemed Ayaan's departure was a lightness that settled over him. A fragile peace, a fragile freedom.

"Old ways? Dr Willem, we only recently evolved from the 'old ways' when YOU got into power. I am surprised you've been able to keep this up this long. Of course the board isn't necessarily pleased from what I've gathered. Regardless, what you're doing is saving lives, thank you," said Eli, his voice almost hoarse with suppressed emotion. The Chief Surgeon looked at him, truly looked at him and saw both the worry and relief subtly etched on his face. A wave of gratitude washed over Eli but he had to stay true to his stoic nature.

"Its fine, their reasoning is full of paranoia and inconsistency, besides, charity begins at home. What better place to start than here at the institution," said the Chief Surgeon.

"Right, anyway, if you'd excuse," said Eli as he got up and left. For a brief moment as he exited the room, he seemed to have had immense weight lifted off his shoulders but this feeling was short lived. Hiding in one of the hallway corners was Ayaan who had been impatiently waiting for him. She moved with the grace of a panther, her target seeming oblivious to her presence. From behind him, she stretched her hand out to tap him but he turned stopping her in her tracks.

"What are you doing?" he asked her as annoyance crept into his voice and self at an almost alarming rate. His face was a mask of icy calm, yet his eyes were glacial pools of fury. Every muscle in his body was taut, coiled like a striking snake, ready to unleash a torrent of violence.

"You got me expelled!" she spat, her voice with raw fury. The crisp papers suddenly felt heavy in her trembling hands.

"I got you expelled? How predictable, of course an ingrate like you would blame anyone other than herself for your inadequacies. You never seize to disappoint me, it's the one thing you've been good at all these past months. I didn't get you discontinued GIRL; you did that to yourself. All this happened because you failed, because you're not good enough, you never were, so leave this place and let those who are actually deserving hone ACTUAL talents," he growled in a patronizing tone. His eyes locked on her and each utterance making her feel smaller than the last. She was recoiling back, all that rage turning into anguish and fear, almost like the realization of what he said, its truth, was compressing her.

The words hang in the air, heavy and barbed. Ayaan stared back at him, locked into his eyes, he was not flinching, he meant every single word. A sob threatened to escape, a guttural sound stuck in her throat. She bit the inner surface of her lip, the taste of blood, a bitter reminder of the emotional turmoil raging within her. Her hands began clenching into fists, crushing the papers she held, a silent testament to the effort it took to maintain her composure.

For a moment, she was breathless and disoriented. She turned away and fled, her footsteps echoing the hallway. That floor, the top most floor was rather quiet. It hardly had human traffic as only the highest-ranking officials resided there. Each step was a desperate attempt at outrunning the sorrow and shame that threatened to consume her.

Upon her departure, the silence that followed his hash words hung in the heavy air. As watched her retreat, a flicker of something akin to regret, a foreign yet familiar sensation in the usually impenetrable armor of his emotions stirred within him. It felt a bit too much even for him, his words had come out sharper than intended. This stoic facade, his lifelong shield against vulnerability had almost been breached.

A short moment later, the doorknob to Ayaan's dorm room turned with a rather vigorous click, she stepped into the room, her shoulders slumped and her gaze fixed on her bed. Blood still dripping in her mouth, the salt a reminder of the sadness welling up inside her. Each step she took felt like a thousand pounds weighing on her. The familiar surroundings of her room, this room she'd lived in for years suddenly felt alien. She felt herself the imposter. Upon reaching her bed, her knees buckled beneath her and she sunk into the mattress.

The dam broke. Tears ran down her face, hot and stinging as she buried herself into her mattress deeper. The muffled sobs shook her body ever so slightly. Each tear was a fresh wound, a painful reminder of the fact that she was a failure.

After a few hours of sobbing, she was finally ready to read the letter. Slowly, she opened the envelope. There was a sort of force, a reflexive resistance triggered by her brain almost holding her back as she pulled out the letter, it was as if her brain was trying to protect her from more hurt.

The letter trembled in her Ayaan's hands, the institution letterhead blurring as tears dripped onto the page. Her tear ducts were no where near done. Her chest hitching with each breath, making the words dance before her eyes.

"Due to your academic performance, the institution's administration is hereby forced to terminate your studies and practice within this school. There has been a consequent decline in your field work performance which is a vital part of your overall qualification.

You are required to collect all your belongings within the institution and permanently withdraw from its premise.

However, if you have a plausible reason as to why the school should reconsider and revoke your termination, write a letter to the Chief Surgeon explaining your case.

Board of Surgeons."

The sentences almost disappeared into watery smears. Dreams and goals since her childhood, crushed and snuffed out like a burning splinter on a windy day. The words kept fracturing into meaningless shapes. Her throat felt raw, burning with the effort of containing sounds that came out anyway, ugly and broken.

The sleeve of her fabric was at that point soaked from wiping her tears, she carefully placed the letter back into the envelope and turned to her closet. She had already decided right then and there to leave. That place, was no home away from home. In fact, every second she spent there felt taunting to her.

At her own comfortable pace she got off her bed and picked up her bag, slowly packing all her personal belongings. There was not much for her to gather as they weren't allowed luxuries such as stylish clothing in school. All she had were seven pairs of civilian attire, the rest were scrubs for her classes and books which was school property.

A short while later she was all packed up and ready, she walked out into their hallway, by then it was afternoon. Most students were however in class so she wouldn't necessarily have to walk the walk of shame.

A short moment later she was in front of the administration block staring at it. She could remember her first day there, she was only ten years old and full of life, excited for the adventure ahead. Invested eight years of her life into the cause just to be booted like a background character. All those dreams of becoming a plague doctor, a hero of the people, savior of mankind, it was all gone. That was it, everything she had worked for leading to that moment, was all for nothing. She was that dispensable, that unimportant that all it took was a simple letter to cast her aside like a rusted blade. A breeze blasted her pretty light-skinned face penetrating the thin layer of warmth she had developed from all the crying. It blew the strands of hair by the sides of her face forcing her to blink a bit.

A piece of paper suddenly pasted itself on the back of her head, cemented on there by the wind. She pulled it off and started reading it.

'Field work

Resident's name: Kira Ito

Tacticality: 4/5', 'Agility: 4/5', 'Weapon mastery: 4/5', 'Composure: 4/5', 'Combat skill: 4/5', 'Situational awareness: 4/5', 'Alacrity: 4/5', 'Adaptability: 4/5', 'Prudence: 4/5', 'Enginuity: 4/5', 'Total: 40/50', '80%'.

Almost immediately she was done, a hand quickly snatched it from her. She turned to this person to find two , a clearly feminine resident in her resident field suit and what could only be her instructing surgeon. The two were famous and she recognized both. Kira, the resident, was one of the best performers of the school and her instructing surgeon, Hano Yamaoka, well known not just for his strictness but also his efficiency as a plague doctor. He had successfully performed hundreds of surgeries, completed just as many missions, slain nightmare-like creatures and was rivalled by very few, including Eli Jones.

Hano's plague mask took the form of a shoebill stork, a rather large beak but averagely relative to his six feet, two inches self. On his back was a great sword: thick with a dark mid surface, stainless and sharp double edge . Most men would hardly move it yet he weilded it like a butter knife, a testament to his strength.

Kira on the other hand wielded a katana and a wakizashi over lapping it. She was well known around the school for her precision, each cut even in the operating room was done to such perfection, many wondered if she was part machine. It was however expected, with an instructor such as Hano, there was no room for error, otherwise she would have most definitely suffered the same fate as Ayaan.

"Change your outfit and get to class," ordered Hano. Kira wasted no time and dashed off while Hano walked away, the two completely ignoring Ayaan like she was just a tree that had caught her results by its branches.

In any case, why wouldn't they, she was a nobody, no longer even having ties to the institution. She looked at it one last time before walking away through it's giant metallic gate.