The moment the final stitch was placed and the surgical lights dimmed slightly, the silence inside the operating room was replaced by something overwhelming. Word had already spread across AUMC College, and what started as quiet observation had turned into a full crowd gathering. Students filled the upper observation deck, staff stood shoulder to shoulder behind the glass, and multiple phones were raised, streaming everything live to those who couldn't be there.
They had seen everything.
From the first incision to the final closure.
And now, as the reality settled in, reactions erupted almost all at once.
Shock turned into loud whispers, disbelief into admiration, and admiration into something far more intense. Among the students watching, especially the girls gathered in the observation area, a quiet wave of awe spread like fire. It wasn't just the surgery—it was the way Akshat carried himself, the calm under pressure, the precision, the control. In their eyes, it wasn't just skill. It was perfection.
"Who even is he…?" someone whispered.
"He didn't hesitate even once…"
"He looked like a professional…"
The voices overlapped, admiration building into something almost unreal, as if they had just witnessed someone far beyond their level. But while the entire room buzzed with excitement and praise—
Akshat said nothing.
He didn't look at anyone.
He didn't acknowledge the noise, the attention, or the success.
Instead, he slowly removed his gloves, his movements no longer carrying that sharp precision from before. The tension that had held him together throughout the surgery had finally started to slip.
He pulled the gloves off and let them fall to the floor carelessly, the soft snap of latex against tile echoing faintly beneath the growing noise around him.
Without a word—
He turned.
And walked out.
At first, no one noticed. The celebration, the relief, the disbelief—it all consumed the room. Thomas was already talking loudly about how he "technically assisted in saving a life," Ryuki leaned back against the wall, exhaling deeply as the weight left her shoulders, and Alexander simply stood there, his eyes lingering on the now-stable patient with quiet understanding.
But Aavya noticed.
She always did.
Something about the way Akshat walked felt… off.
Too heavy.
Too quiet.
Her smile faded slightly as she watched him leave, her instincts telling her that something wasn't right. Without saying anything to the others, she slipped away quietly, following him down the corridor.
The shower room was silent.
The sound of running water echoed faintly, filling the empty space with a steady rhythm. Steam began to rise slowly, blurring the mirrors, softening the harsh edges of the sterile environment.
Aavya stepped inside carefully.
And then she saw him.
Akshat stood near the sink, his back slightly hunched, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. His surgical apron was still on, but it didn't stay that way for long. In a sudden motion, he grabbed it and tore it off, the fabric ripping under the force, falling uselessly to the ground.
The sound echoed louder than it should have.
Aavya froze for a second, surprised by the intensity of it.
Then she stepped forward slowly.
"You just saved a person…" she said softly, her voice carrying both concern and confusion. "But… are you okay?"
The question lingered.
For a moment—
There was no response.
Then—
Something broke.
Akshat's shoulders trembled slightly, a subtle movement that quickly grew into something uncontrollable. His grip on the sink tightened, his head lowering as if the weight he had been holding finally crushed down all at once.
And then—
Tears fell.
Not quietly.
Not controlled.
They came suddenly, heavily, like something that had been held back for far too long. His breathing became uneven, his composure completely shattered as the image everyone had of him—the calm, perfect, unshakable Akshat—collapsed in that moment.
"I could have killed him…" he said, his voice breaking as the words forced their way out. "I could have killed another person because of my own flaws…"
The pain in his voice wasn't subtle.
It was raw.
Aggressive.
Like he was blaming himself for something that hadn't even happened.
Aavya stood there, stunned, unable to immediately process what she was hearing. The same person who had just performed an impossible surgery was now standing in front of her, completely broken.
"I'm not… what everyone thinks I am," Akshat continued, his voice shaking. "I'm not some perfect person…"
He let out a bitter, almost hollow laugh, his eyes filled with frustration and self-loathing.
"I'm just a loser who knows how to flip the situation at the right moment," he said. "That's it."
His breathing grew heavier.
"I don't know any proper martial arts… I don't have technique… anyone skilled can take me down easily," he added, his voice filled with harsh honesty. "I've just been surviving because of physical strength and instincts…"
He clenched his fists tightly.
"And even today…"
His voice dropped lower.
"I froze."
The word hung heavily in the air.
"I got completely blank during the closure," he admitted. "If it wasn't for that old bastard Kurana Alexanderia…"
He shut his eyes tightly.
"…he would have died."
Silence filled the room.
Not empty silence—
But heavy.
The kind that carried everything he had just said.
Aavya didn't speak immediately.
Instead, she stepped closer.
Slowly.
Gently.
And then—
She wrapped her arms around him from behind.
The sudden warmth caught him off guard.
Her hold wasn't tight.
It wasn't forceful.
It was soft.
Steady.
Real.
"Relax…" she said quietly, her voice calm but filled with something deeper now. "You don't have to carry everything alone…"
Akshat didn't move.
Didn't resist.
Didn't respond.
For the first time since the surgery—
He stopped holding himself together.
Aavya rested her head lightly against his back, her presence grounding him in a way words couldn't.
"Let's just… take a bath together," she added softly.
It wasn't a solution.
It wasn't advice.
It was just—
A moment.
A pause in everything.
And in that moment, for the first time in a long while—
Akshat allowed himself to feel human.
Steam slowly filled the shower room, curling through the air and blurring the harsh edges of reality. The sound of running water softened everything, turning the sterile space into something almost… quiet.
Akshat stood under the stream, letting the water fall over him, washing away the blood, the sweat, the weight of the surgery—but not the thoughts. Those stayed. His shoulders were still tense, his breathing uneven, as if his body hadn't realized yet that it was over.
Aavya stood a few steps away at first, She didn't rush in.
Didn't interrupt.
She just watched him for a moment, her expression softer than ever, as if she was seeing a side of him no one else was allowed to see.
Then slowly, she removes her sterile gown and stepped closer.
Without saying anything, she reached out and turned the water slightly warmer, adjusting it with careful hands. The small action felt… strangely personal, like she was trying to take care of him in the simplest way possible.
"You're still shaking," she said quietly.
Akshat let out a weak breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
"I thought it would stop," he admitted, his voice low. "But it's still there…"
Aavya didn't reply immediately.
Instead, she moved beside him—too close, not overwhelming—just enough that her presence could be felt.
The water splashed lightly between them, the silence stretching but not uncomfortable.
"You didn't fail," she said after a moment. "Even if you felt lost… you didn't run away."
Akshat closed his eyes briefly, letting the words settle.
"That's not enough," he murmured.
"It is," she replied gently. "For today… it is."
Another silence followed.
But this time, it felt warmer.
Aavya hesitated for just a second before reaching out again, her fingers lightly brushing against his wrist. His hand was still tense, fingers slightly curled like he hadn't let go of the surgical instruments yet.
She gently loosened his grip.
"Let it go," she whispered.
Akshat didn't pull away.
Instead, his hand slowly relaxed under hers, the tension easing little by little. The water kept falling, steady and calm, like it was carrying away everything he didn't have the strength to hold anymore.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They just stood there and in that silence, without needing anything more, Akshat leaned just slightly toward her—not fully, not completely—but enough to show that, for once, he wasn't trying to stand alone.
Aavya noticed but she didn't make it obvious, she just stayed.
And somehow, that was enough.
End of ch 55
To be continue...
© 2026 darkstar penguin | Reposting or copying is prohibited.