At first, her father was overjoyed. He built her a clinic of her own, a proud monument to his long-held dream. He imagined her curing nobles, earning prestige, restoring their lost honor.

  But days passed. Then weeks.

  And not one patient from the First Zone sought her help.

  Her father waited, his patience dwindling with each silent day. He watched, his once-bright hopes turning into seething resentment, as his daughter, his daughter, lowered herself to treating Third Zoners—the very people he despised.

  It enraged him.

  He forbade her from stepping into the Third Zone. Prevented her from treating the very people who needed her the most.

  And so, she sat.

  Day after day, trapped within the clinic’s empty walls, her only solace was writing letters to Ishaan.

  She poured her thoughts, her loneliness, her silent cries into each letter, sealing them with desperate hope. But she never knew if the pigeons found him.

  She never got a reply.

  Yet, she never stopped writing.

  Then, one day, her father came with a new plan.

  He had finally realized the truth—higher officials only trusted Ranked Doctors, those who held official recognition within the Sun Kingdom’s elite medical circle. No noble, no minister, no commander would come to a newbie like her.

  So now, he demanded that she take the Ranked Doctor Examination.

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  She couldn’t.

  It wasn’t just a theoretical test—it required hands-on experience, mastery over complex medical procedures, and above all, flawless execution under pressure.

  There were only twelve Ranked Doctors in the entire Solar Kingdom.

  To earn a title, she had to outshine the kingdom’s finest physicians.

  But her father wouldn’t listen.

  "Living in embarrassment is worse than death," he said.

  Those words settled over her like a haunted spell, looping endlessly in her mind, growing heavier each time they echoed.

  She had fought so long, so hard.

  But this battle… this one, she wasn’t sure she could win.

  She knew.

  As a doctor, as someone who had dedicated her life to understanding the fragility of existence, she knew exactly what was happening to her.

  This wasn't exhaustion.

  This wasn't just stress.

  This was an illness of the mind, one more dangerous than any fatal wound. But knowing didn't meant she could stop it. The thoughts crept in, subtle at first. Then louder. Then relentless.

  She visited her teacher, the one person she trusted. She told him everything the feeling being trapped in a life that wasn't hers to live.

  He listened. He understood.

  And he gave her two things: advice and medicine.

  "Talk to your father," he said as if it were that simple. As if words alone could undo years of fear and pressure.

  Still she tried. She took the medicine. For two days she forced herself to believe it would help.

  Then she stopped.

  Because in the end, what was the point?

  One night, in the still silence of her empty clinic she made a decision that no one could ever undo.

  As the warmth of life spilled away, she finally found something she had been searching for.

  Peace.

  ----

  Awakening

  A single tear slipped down her cheek.

  She wasn’t sure why.

  Was it for the girl—the true owner of this body—who had suffered so much?

  Was it from the pounding pain in her head?

  Or was it from the throbbing sting in her wrist?

  It seemed to be the last.

  Someone was squeezing her wounded hand.

  A sharp jolt of pain pulled her further into consciousness. Her eyelids, heavy and reluctant, parted to reveal a youth beside her bed.

  Handsome yet disheveled, his face was streaked with tears. He clutched her injured hand with trembling fingers, gripping it too tightly, unaware of the pain he was causing.

  "I shouldn’t have left... I shouldn’t have left..." he muttered, over and over, his voice choked with regret.

  Her throat was dry, her voice barely above a whisper, but she forced out two words—

  "Let go."

  "Pain."

  The youth jolted as if struck, his grief momentarily overtaken by shock and relief. Seeing her awake, he scrambled to call for the doctor, his voice urgent. But before leaving her side, he turned back, scolding her, blaming her, blaming himself for everything.

  She watched him, this boy who had left, who had returned, who now wept at her side.

  A strange, unfamiliar warmth spread in her chest.

  Lifting a weak hand, she beckoned him closer. He hesitated, then leaned in.

  And with a raspy breath, she asked the most important question—

  "Where is my sister-in-law?"

  Silence.

  His face darkened instantly, embarrassment creeping into his features.

  Success.

  Satisfied, she let her eyes drift shut again, a faint smile playing on her lips.

  And this time, she slept in peace.

  What is your thoughts on Ishaan's action?