You're on a path in the woods.

“I spent all of high school working my ass off to be good at math and science. And now I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’m being overdramatic or if it’s just a phase, but getting out of bed feels harder. Going to lectures or the laboratory doesn’t excite me like it used to. I feel like I’m just disconnected and rushed to do things.

“Maybe it’s a me problem, because most people seem fine despite the stress and difficulty. It’s practice and repetition, there are systems and theories, but…it just sucks, Sachi.”

He sighs. “I thought you were just tired, but there was more to it, huh?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Was today the last straw? I remember you left early today for a practical exam.”

You look up at him. “Yeah. Fucked up big time. Proctor told me I failed.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I made a stupid mistake. There was a specific protocol and I fucking forgot it during her station because I panicked.”

“That must have been frustrating…”

“And the worst part? That specific proctor that graded me happened to be one of the senior professors who knew my parents personally.”

Sachirou nods in recognition. You’ve told him about her before, and how unnerving it has been to be in her presence. Just a month ago, she went off on you for asking a simple question, as if you were the dumbest person in the room.

“She told me that she expected more from me. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t know what I was doing when I both of my parents are actual med techs. Even worse, my parents were some of the best in their year. Then here they are with a fucking kid who is barely passing!”

The floodgates open, and you don’t care how horrendously whiny you sound.

“And she told me that at the first station, so it just dominoed from there because I got all shaky and started questioning myself during the other stations and then- I don’t know! I just tried to calculate my grade and I’m here trying to accept that I’ve fucked it up, and I don’t know if I can save it.”

You cough for a moment, overwhelmed by how much you’re saying. The physical sensation is horrid—it’s like your thoughts, voice, mouth, and breathing aren’t working together.

It’s exactly how you feel. A disorienting, conflicted, confused, heavy mess.

“I don’t know, Sachirou. I feel like I’m going nowhere. I’m not happy and not just because of what happened today, but in general. I was good at solving and memorizing but I feel like nothing’s working. I don’t know how to tell mom and dad, they were so happy that I wanted to follow in their footsteps. I don’t wanna tell them I failed. I don’t wanna tell them I hate this.” 

For a few moments, there’s silence; all you can hear are your unsuccessful attempts to steady your breath. 

Still, you wait. You know Sachirou needs to a moment to think about everything you’ve told him—and a part of you also recognizes how your feelings touch on the very thing you’ve helped him through before.

Eventually, he speaks up, stroking your back gently and pulling you closer to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve said that your dream was to help people.”

“Yeah.”

“Being a medical technologist is one of the many ways to help people. But, what exactly interests you, or makes you happy?”

Sachirou’s question makes you pause. What makes me happy?

“I-I don’t know,” you respond, sniffling. “I didn’t think about that just yet.”

“Hmm. Say, even if you were having a bad week, what were the moments you looked forward to? Or, anything that fulfilled you.”

“Mm…I liked the opportunities to talk to patients when we had to do supervised extractions. Slow days were good. I hated when we were rushed and could barely get anything past a ‘hello’ and ‘I’m sorry if this hurts’.”

He nods. “You value deep conversations with people. That’s true.”

“I suppose. I mean, every person I meet has a whole life.”

“That’s right. And believing in that is your strength.”

“What?”

“You’re always so eager to unravel the layers of a person. Your final judgments are never based on first impressions or the things you’ve heard about them. You like getting to know people as they are, and you always find some way to do  something special in their lives.”

You turn to look at him. “I…really?”

“You did that with me when you insisted on calling me Sachirou. You helped me realize that I was more than just a Hirugami who was expected to play volleyball.”

Oh.

“You were always there for me whenever I struggled with the sport. You got me through times I felt like I could no longer tough it out. You had my back when I told my family I wanted to quit. You supported my decision to pursue what I wanted to do with my life. I will never forget those acts of kindness. You changed my life for the better, so I think you deserve to give yourself more credit.”

“Sachirou…” 

With a whisper of his name, he gives you a quick kiss to your forehead.  

“You’re more than what people expect you to be.” He mutters into your hair. “What do you want to be?”

Your mind scans through hundreds of memories in your senior year. Nights of studying for the entrance exams, pamphlets from various colleges, discussions with your family…then it hits you.

Filling out application forms took a long time because you had to come up with a list of ranked courses. Medical technology as your first choice was a no-brainer. It was the path you were “sure” you wanted. However, the second choice was the hardest one to decide on. That was your fallback if things didn’t turn out how you expected. 

Your parents didn’t care as much for what you put there, reasoning that you could always shift into medical technology if your grades were good enough. Still, you were careful about your decision because you didn’t want to be assigned to a random program. 

So, you read through the college website, narrowing it all down. Fourth choice filled, third choice filled, second choice…

“Psychology,” you blurt out. “That was my plan B.”

Sachirou chuckles, and you can feel the deep vibrations through his chest. “I definitely think that suits you.”

You remember reading through the program curriculum. Psychology was something you’ve had some interest in, but you never had the chance to delve into it, too focused on your main dream.

“Thanks. I remember thinking that it was the course I would have taken in my second life.”

“Well, what’s stopping you now?”

You huff in amusement. That was the exact question you asked him when he opened up about wanting to be a veterinarian.

“Hey. You’re sneaky, Sachirou.”

“Thanks. I learned from the best” He snickers, bumping your shoulder. “But seriously, don’t tie yourself to something that’ll make you unhappy for the rest of your life. Your parents cannot force this dream on you.”

The corners of your mouth lift. “Yeah, yeah.”

“The semester’s almost over. Finish whatever you have to and talk to your program adviser about everything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you for telling me how you felt.” Sachirou gives you a brief peck on the cheek. “And if it happens again, I’ll listen. You and I both know how heavy the weight of expectations are.”

Additional Notes:

I wrote the conversation/dialogue during a very hard time of my uni life. The referenced professor is real, including the incidents I talked about. Thankfully, for this subject where I failed my return demonstration, I pulled it together for my finals and other written exams, and passed with a better grade than I had anticipated.

Initially, I had written this fic to be based on my experiences as a speech-language pathology student; but ultimately, I did not want to quit, even if the option was there. I still wanted to graduate and become an SLP despite the immense struggle. That is why I shifted the career/course for reader to medical technology. Continuing with an SLP student!reader felt contrary to my positive realizations about my future in speech-language pathology.

Fun fact, there was a time I thought to myself that I should have just chosen medical technology instead of SLP because I thought I might've been able to play to my strengths more (especially as an introvert). But after pondering the what-ifs of medtech, I realized it was not for me. And, this fic is NOT medtech bashing! It's more about the reality of what aspects of a job match with what a person wants.

Another fun fact, psychology was actually my first choice in another university. I still think it's an interesting field and I do have some background in it because of child development, but in this life, I'm grateful that I get to do speech therapy with kids now! :D

By the way, I know this fic is very ranty, so perhaps there wasn't much Hirugami characterization coming through as you might've anticipated. Still, I chose him because he is the perfect listener for someone going through a degree/job crisis.

Hirugami knows what it's like to have to choose between his dreams and the dreams others have for him. It was though his friendships with Hoshiumi (and childhood best friend reader, in this fic) that he realized he had a choice, and an option to quit. He reminds reader of this, because sometimes, people don't follow their advice (or realize that the same can apply to them).

Anyway, this fic was a way for me to process my feelings (about quitting vs. persevering). While I didn't end up quitting, it still felt nice to explore the "what if I did?" and remind myself that I always have an option to dictate what I want to do with my life. That's why it's heavy on the dialogue because what I really wanted was a conversation to myself.

This fic been in the drafts for such a long time, but thank you D99 event for prompting me to revisit and continue this one. A part of me wasn't sure about how I felt about it, but the point is to write to your heart's content, right?

A special thank you to @seumyo, my beloved, for giving me the insights on what it's like to be a medtech student (sometimes, experience beats a google search lol!). Thank you for hearing my idea out and really understanding what I was going for. I hope you're doing well! <3

Corresponding TEA99 Order: mixed wild berries tea in a red cup, and a smoked salmon sandwich!