Chapter 11: Goodbye

With a sigh of relief, Ryu realised that two of the most dangerous individuals in the village—and possibly the entire world—had left.

His joy was ended by Dr. Yuki's sudden question filled with annoyance, "What are you doing in my private office?"

Ryu, who had momentarily forgotten about her, braced himself for the scolding he knew was inevitable. Gathering his wits, Ryu stood his ground and replied, "I just wanted to read books And by books, I mean actual books with knowledge. not the children's fairy tales Hiroto gave me earlier."

His words, laced with a determination that belied his youthful appearance, seemed to surprise Dr. Yuki, who regarded him with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Dr. Yuki looked at him with surprise and, after a moment of silence, said, "Kid, go play and don't create trouble for the elders."

"This is not the right time for you to pursue knowledge," she said as she got up.

Ryu's eyes flashed with a determination that seemed far beyond his years. He stood straighter, his small frame somehow filling the room with an unexpected presence.

Ryu looked at Dr.Yuki and said, "Knowledge is the answer to most of our problems. If nobody has figured out a solution to a problem, then nobody has tried well enough yet. The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing."

He quoted the famous Einstein from his old world. Dr. Yuki was shocked by his response.

Her eyebrows shot up, her professional mask slipping for a moment to reveal genuine astonishment. She leaned forward, studying Ryu with newfound interest.

Dr. Yuki looked at him and said, "You talk big for a brat.".

Dr. Yuki, with a speck of sadness, said to him, "You heard them, right? You don't have much time left," referring to the failed treatments that offered no hope for his condition.

Acknowledging the limited time he had left, Dr. Yuki reminded Ryu of the failed treatments, to which Ryu responded stoically, "I already knew it."

His acceptance of the grim reality surprised Dr. Yuki, who was accustomed to witnessing despair in such situations.

"How can you be so calm about this?" she asked, her voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Most children your age would be..."

"Scared? Crying?" Ryu finished for her. He shrugged, a gesture that seemed oddly mature on his small frame. "Being afraid won't change anything. I'd rather use the time I have left to learn, to understand."

Dr.Yuki then replied, "Then you already know that all the possible treatments have failed."

Ryu looked at her and said, "Nothing has changed, even on my deathbed. Curiosity, the greatest fuel, never runs dry."

He quoted another famous mathematician from his old world, Dr. Evelyn Walsh.

Dr. Yuki's eyes widened again. With a faint smile tugging at her lips, she remarked, "You are quite the philosopher."

Dr. Yuki was amazed by such a world for a kid. She then started leaving the room, and while leaving, she said, "Do what you want, kid." 

As Dr. Yuki ventured out of her office, she carried with her a newfound admiration for Ryu, a young soul facing the inevitable with bravery and an insatiable appetite for knowledge, even in the darkest of times. And in that moment, amidst the whispers of uncertainty, a bond formed between the wise doctor and the curious young boy, destined to explore the realms of possibility together.

She then left him to his own devices. The first thing she did was ask the caretaker about him. The caretaker apologised to her and said the kid was serious about learning, so he gave him access to her office to read some books. He also told her about his deduction powers. She was already surprised by how the boy was so calm in the face of impending doom, but now she marvelled at the intelligence and deductive power of the boy.

"How long has he been like this?" Dr. Yuki asked, her voice low.

The caretaker answered, "I don't know, really. At first, we thought it was just shock from his illness, but... there's something different about him. Something special."

Dr. Yuki nodded slowly, her mind racing with possibilities. "Keep a close eye on him," she said finally. "And let me know if you notice anything else unusual."

The next day, the Root Ninjas arrived promptly to collect the carefully chosen children for their rigorous training. The excited children, who were overjoyed to finally feel like they belonged somewhere, had no idea that they were in for a terrible fate under the harsh rules of Root Division.

The air was thick with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Children hugged each other goodbye, some laughing, others fighting back tears. The Root Ninjas stood impassively, their masked faces betraying no emotion as they waited to escort their new recruits.

Dr. Yuki couldn't shake off the heavy burden of sorrow within her, knowing all too well the gruelling challenges and demanding trials looming ahead for these unsuspecting children as they ventured into the unforgiving realm of ninja training at the hands of the Root.

She watched from the window of her office, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Every fibre of her being screamed to intervene, to protect these innocent souls from the harsh reality that awaited them. But she knew, with a sinking heart, that such action would only bring more suffering.

The reputation of Root Division preceded itself. The training in Root Division was known to be the hardest and most gruelling among all the ninja clans. The members were pushed to their physical and mental limits to prepare them for any mission that may come their way. The end product of such disciplined training was a cadre of unyielding, emotionless warriors committed to the cause, willing to make any sacrifice in service of their nation's security.

Ryu could hear one of the kids who wasn't selected saying, "I wish I was also selected. I also wanted to be a ninja."

Ryu thought, "This kid didn't know that he had dodged a bullet. This kid won't survive even a day in the root. He should enjoy the civilian life ahead. It's also hard, but he gets to keep his life and free will." 

There was one kid who was happy to join the Root but sad to leave the orphanage. Mikasa was selected by the root division.

Mikasa moved near Ryu with a brave smile, masking her fears, and said, "Don't worry. I will become strong for the both of us. Strong enough to ultimately lead the life I desire.".

Her voice wavered slightly, hiding the fear she was trying so hard to hide. Ryu felt his heart clench, recognising the bravery in her words.

Weak don't get to choose how they live or die—Ryu's previous words were still lingering in her mind.

Ryu looked at her. He was shocked and sad that she was inducted into the root division. Even though he didn't spend much time with her, he knew she was a good kid. Now the root will take her emotions away from her, making her an emotional tool, a killer who only follows orders if she doesn't die during the orientation or the Root Division's graduation. 

Ryu couldn't save her, even if he wanted to. He was powerless at the moment. Unable to alter her fate, Ryu could only offer his silent prayers for Mikasa's well-being, hoping that she would endure the dehumanising process that awaited her in the Root Division.

Before the Root Ninja whisked her away, Mikasa turned back. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran into Ryu's embrace, her sobs muffled against his worn shirt.

Ryu held her tightly, feeling her small body shake with suppressed sobs. He couldn't hold back now. He said while crying, "The next time we meet, I will be strong too."

She smiled and said, "Idiot, you already are."

Her words, tinged with both sadness and affection, hung in the air between them. For a moment, they were just two children, clinging to each other in the face of an uncertain future.

"Goodbye, Ryu," Mikasa said before leaving.

Ryu stood silent, a silent witness to the harsh realities of their world. In that fleeting moment of parting, amidst tears and whispered wishes, a silent vow was made—a promise to become stronger and wiser.

As Mikasa was led away, Ryu watched her go, his heart heavy with the weight of his promise. He knew the odds were against him, but in that moment, he made another silent vow—to fight, to survive, to find a way to keep his word.

Dr. Yuki, a silent observer of the unfolding emotions, masked her own sorrow behind a stoic facade. She was listening silently and watched the kids be taken by Root Division.

She turned back and told the caretaker to watch over the kids. With a heavy heart, Dr. Yuki retreated to her office. She didn't want the kids to see her cry. 

Once alone, she allowed her composure to crumble. Tears streamed down her face as she slumped into her chair, the weight of her helplessness crushing down on her. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you all."